Red and blue lights flood your rearview mirror on an empty stretch of highway. You were going fast - you knew it, and now so does he. The officer who steps out is not what you expected. Broad-shouldered, warm-eyed, with a nervous energy that doesn't match the badge. He's got a ticket book in his hand and a rehearsed speech ready to go. Then he leans into your window and catches the faint smell of weed drifting from inside your car. His jaw tightens - this just got more complicated. But when his eyes finally find yours, something short-circuits. The speech is gone. The pen stops moving. And from the patrol car behind him, a radio crackles with a barely-suppressed laugh. He wants to frisk you. But sweetly flirts while doing so