(ADDITIONAL AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you are not familiar with this nonsense, I am begging you not to continue. These ramblings are NOT warm and fuzzy BnT adventures in love, life and the pursuit of each other. I do not write L-Word fan fiction in the true sense of what fan fiction really is . . . But I love to read it because there are so many excellent authors out there who tell wonderful L-Word character tales. So please do not torture yourself by attempting to read this piece never-ending Beach-NUT drama. You will not like it, you will not like me, you will not be able to follow the storyline, and you will wonder why you didn’t heed the warnings. Stop now and go check out the well-written, imaginative stories by other more-talented writers . . .they will not disappoint you I guarantee it.)

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Silently, she put her hands on my head and gently pushed me down. No words were necessary as I knew exactly what she wanted me to do, and I was more than happy to do it. I was sure she could hear my heart pounding, and I knew she could feel my excitement when she touched my hot skin. This was definitely a new experience for me . . . so deliberate and demanding were her actions and in full view of so many ( A GAWDDAMN FUCKIN AUDIENCE., MOTHER FUCK ME) . . so public. . . so open . . . so totally humiliating and embarrassing for me. But she didn’t care. She was just giving me what I deserved; just doing her job.

“Girl, watch your head,” the officer quietly instructed as she pushed me into the patrol car. She reminded me a little of Kit Porter, striking features and a velvet voice which she no doubt exploited to her advantage as a karaoke singer on the weekends at her favorite police pub, or so I imagined.

She was a big woman with a caring touch and I bent my head and gladly entered the vehicle to escape the view of the mob which had yet to disperse. Many of the appalled onlookers were still aiding the old man whose wooden leg I had dislodged after a brief altercation.