a/n: for Mik, but mostly for me.

Yoobin checks her watch and yawns. It's not even ten, but when the only thing that's keeping her awake is the fifth episode of this conspiracy podcast that she's listened to this night, she is finding herself nodding off. To make matters worse, she's stuck stationed on a country road, one with almost no traffic. It's the most boring assignment she could have gotten and it's clear it's punishment for skipping out of the precinct dinner early the week before.
Just as her eyes begin to flutter close to the podcast's narrator talking about frogs, she's awakened by the sound of a car and, whoa, a car way over the speed limit.
Yoobin's eyes snap open and she's wide awake again as she pulls onto the street and turns on her lights and siren.
It only takes a few seconds for the car, a little Toyota coup, to pull over and Yoobin pulls up behind it. She collects her badge, cuffs, and taser from the compartment on her door and her notebook from the passenger's seat. She doesn't bother pausing the podcast. Speeding tickets were quick and routine. She'd be back before the narrator finished his point.
Yoobin opens her door and steps out onto the gravel shoulder. It's a little chilly out, and she thinks for a second about pulling her jacket out of the back, but it's a quick enough citation that it wouldn't matter.
As she approaches the car, jotting down the license plate and time, the driver rolls the window down and Yoobin is greeted with a young woman sporting a sheepish grin. Yoobin ignores the part of her brain that calls the woman cute.
The woman's grin slides off in a moment when she gives Yoobin a glance up and down, and it's replaced by something a little more wicked. Yoobin narrows her eyes before beginning her spiel.
"Good evening," Yoobin starts. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"Hey, officer," the emphasis on ‘officer' pulled straight from some cheap intro, and Yoobin sighs, scratching the cute from her assessment, "it's a nice night, isn't it?"
Yoobin asks again, more firmly, "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
The driver puts on the worst fake innocent face Yoobin has ever seen in all her three years as a cop. "No, officer, but can you tell me?"
Yoobin sighs, "You violated the speed limit, which is clearly marked on the right side of the road ev-"
"Officer Lee," the driver's eyes are on her name badge, "Lee Yoobin. That's a y name."
Yoobin raises her eyebrows. Is this woman sober? But if she had an opening, "That's my name, can I have yours? I'm going to need your ID and registration."
"Am I a bad girl?" The driver leans forward, making a ridiculous pouty face and no move to retrieve either of the things Yoobin asked for.
"Well," Yoobin pushes her glasses up her nose, doing her best to ignore the heavy gaze the driver is examining her with, and definitely ignoring the way the driver bites her lip when her eyes land on Yoobin's hands. "You were in violation of at least one law just now, and I'm going to need your license and registration. And if I could ask you to please step out of your car, I'd like to test your sobriety and awareness."
"Anything for you, officer." The driver nearly moans the word and Yoobin feels a flush start to rise up her neck. Is this woman serious? Yoobin is beginning to crave the podcast narrator's droning voice.
The driver rolls up her window and Yoobin steps back to make room for her to open her door. When she does, Yoobin's eyebrows, already raised a little, tick up some more, and she can't help but ask, "A y clown?"
The driver glances down at her outfit, a tight nylon tube dress with big blue pom-poms running down the front and a teensy tutu tacked onto the bottom, made even more ridiculous by the strips of fabric ending in bells that jingle as the driver steps out of her car, wobbling for a second on ludicrously high heeled sandals made worse by the garish pink thigh highs the woman wore. Even a body like this woman's could not make this outfit look good. Jesus. "Oh! Yeah, I'm Harley Quinn for a costume party, but I guess that means we have to be enemies," she pauses, waiting for a response, which Yoobin, still trying to process the awful fashion faux-pas, is not equipped to give her, "You know, because cops and villains. Duh!"
"Yeah. Of course." Yoobin shakes herself from her confusion (but she's pretty sure that Harley Quinn does not look like that) and focuses back on her job. "License and registration, please."
"Of course, officer." The driver turns back to her car, bells jingling, and bends cleanly at the waist to reach into her glove compartment, the three inches of tulle tilting with her waist and giving Yoobin an excessive view of her and the pair of pink she is wearing. Good lord. Yoobin turns her head in courtesy, the expanse of pale skin above the driver's thigh highs burned into her vision. She flushes and bites her lip, bringing her notebook up to review procedure. It was not the time to be thinking anything like that. She quickly jots down the date and speed as well as the more rote information. Anything to distract her from the driver's long legs that, good lord, she had spread in order to increase the driver's stability. 
Yoobin hears muffled cursing from the car and approaches cautiously, directly behind the driver to prevent her from taking off on foot. "Do you need some assistance?"
The driver pauses, turns her head to look at Yoobin, and smirks. "So you like your girls face down, up, do you, officer?" It's then that Yoobin realizes how close she's gotten, and how, in just a few inches, she would be pressed almost directly against the driver's bent-over frame. She clears and flushes, taking a step back.
Yoobin positions herself just to the driver's right, careful of her proximity to the driver now. "Please refrain from making statements like that and find your documents." 
"You can tell me to shut up," The driver looks back at Yoobin again and winks, "I like my women rough." She takes a step back and straightens up, arching her back dramatically in the process in a way that Yoobin thinks is supposed to be y, but misses by a mile, made all the worse by the sounds of those ridiculous bells. 
She turns to Yoobin hands her registration papers over before fumbling her wallet and dropping it between them.
"Oops," she doesn't look apologetic at all and she drops to her knees in front of Yoobin, not breaking eye contact. The bells hit against the ground with an awkward clinging. "Let me get this for you."
Yoobin prides herself on her professionalism. She's maintained her composure with 6-foot-tall brutes screaming at her. But this woman, ridiculous and shameless, on her knees, looking up at Yoobin through her lashes with the most overwrought y expression Yoobin has ever seen is the closest she's ever been to cracking. Yoobin entertains the idea of pushing the process along more forcefully, but she has a feeling that any show of assertion will backfire with this woman.
The woman stands, handing the wallet over to Yoobin. Yoobin hands it back and says, "I only need your license. Nothing else."
The driver takes her wallet back flipping it open and pulling her license out. "I love it when you're demanding," she says, almost poetically confirming Yoobin's assertion.
She hands it over and Yoobin glances down at it. She steps towards the line marking the side of the road and gestures to it. "Ms. Kim Yoohyeon, would you please walk along this line for me. Feel free to take your shoes off."
"I love the way my name sounds on your tongue, officer." She winks and bites her lip before sitting down and unstrapping her heels. When she has them both off, she calls out to Yoobin, "Do you want anything else off while I'm at it, officer?" She pulls at her dress' neckline to expose more cleavage and her lips, winking and smirking after.
Yoobin lets slip a "Jesus." after Yoohyeon's display, immediately snapping back into the image of a model cop when she sees Yoohyeon's eyes light up at her reaction. "The line, Ms. Kim." She points to the line again and Yoohyeon approaches her, swaying her hips and biting her lip, bells sounding with every step. Yoobin backs up as Yoohyeon gets closer, continuing to point to the line. Yoohyeon, thankfully, does what she's told and follows the line, heel to toe, for twenty steps away from Yoobin before turning around and walking much more confidently back towards Yoobin, swaying her hips and brushing her hair off her shoulders in some kind of attempt at a y model walk. 
Yoobin nods and points back at her car. "Wait there for me while I finish this paperwork and get the breathalyzer." Yoohyeon smiles and winks. "Whatever you want, officer."
Yoobin doesn't let her eyes leave Yoohyeon as she sits down sideways in the driver's seat just to make sure she doesn't drive off, of course. Yoobin takes a seat in her own car and begins filling out the form with the information on Kim Yoohyeon's documents. With a little space between her and Yoohyeon, and the droning voice of her podcast's narrator to relax her, Yoobin takes a breath and lets herself process. Kim Yoohyeon is no doubt very cute, but with her behavior towards Yoobin, Yoobin can't help but wonder about her mental thereness or social awareness. But there's something amusing about her. Yoobin can admit that. The blatant ual advances had shaken up her otherwise boring shift, but Jesus, this woman doesn't know the meaning of time and place.
As she finishes the form, her mind, the big traitor, reminds her of the view she had gotten when Yoohyeon had gone looking for her license and registration. She flushes and fumbles the breathalyzer she grabs from the center console. She clutches it securely and steps out of her car once again. She tucks Yoohyeon's documents and her notepad under her arm as she approaches the car and Yoohyeon stands when she hears her footsteps.
"Listen, I-" 
Yoohyeon begins, interrupted by Yoobin's professional, "I'm going to need you to blow this."
They both pause after that and flush, aware of the double entendre that had slipped out of Yoobin's mouth.
Yoohyeon flaps once before starting again. "Listen, I'm sorry. I have no idea why I hit on you like that." She pauses for a second and Yoobin opens to try to speed the process along, but Yoohyeon continues, "I mean, I know why I did it. I'm on my way to a party, you know, looking to, uh, get laid." Yoohyeon blushes but barrels on, "So I was pretty and then a hot cop comes knocking at my window and it's like I was possessed. So I'm really sorry." Yoohyeon is visibly red and looked…genuinely sorry.
Yoobin relaxes her stance to make herself less intimidating. "It's alright. If anything, you were some nice entertainment for what's been a very boring night. I'm very relieved that that's not your norm. Your flirting techniques are, well," Yoobin chuckles, "they're pretty bad, but at least they're funny too."
Yoohyeon perks up at Yoobin's last line and a gentler version of her smirk slides onto her face. "I…I have one more line that the part of me is dying to say, and then I'm done I swear." 
Yoobin sighs, more in good humor than anything else and nods, "Shoot."
Yoohyeon rolls her shoulders back, bites her lip, and looks up at Yoobin through her lashes, "That little meter isn't the only thing of yours I could blow tonight."
Yoobin barks out a laugh at that, "That's terrible." She holds the breathalyzer up towards Yoohyeon, "and now I feel weird about saying ‘Now blow.'"
Yoohyeon laughs and her eyes crinkle at the corners. Yoobin has to push back a smile. "Don't worry. I'll behave, officer." She winks and leans forward, blowing into the meter. When it beeps, Yoobin takes it back.
"Looks like you're good." Yoobin pockets the meter. "To be honest, I really thought you were drunk with the way you were acting."
Yoohyeon grins sheepishly. "Honestly, I kind of wish I was. At least then I'd have an excuse for my behavior other than my raging libido."
"You're fine. Seriously, don't worry about it." Yoobin pulls out a pen and opens her notepad. "I have a few more things to write down before I can send you on your way."
Yoohyeon sits down with a jingle and looks around awkwardly as she waits for Yoobin to finish up, and startles a little when Yoobin tears the sheets off at the perforation and hands them to her. She looks up, confused when she realizes that Yoobin gave her both copies. "Don't you need one of these?"
Yoobin smiles and shakes her head. "I think you've learned your lesson. It might help you to read that over though." Yoobin gives Yoohyeon a little wave before turning and making her way back to her car. "Have a nice night, Kim Yoohyeon."
"Yeah…" Yoohyeon nods absently, still looking at the papers. "Good night."
Yoobin pulls away and makes a U-turn to get back to her hiding spot behind a bale of hay. When she arrives, she leans her chair back and turns up her podcast, ready for the next three hours of her shift.
A couple of minutes pass when her personal phone chimes, she grins, grabbing it from the center console, and unlocks it to read the latest message:
"‘Maybe I can help you with that problem of your's?' Really? And here you made me feel like a fool…:("
Yoobin chuckles and replies: "My shift ends at 1. Do you need a ride back from the party?"
Her phone buzzes not ten seconds later: "A pickup in a marked police vehicle? You know what? Why not, officer? ;)" a second later, she's sent an address.
She replies one more time before putting her phone down and focusing back on the podcast, the man now going on about elevators: "I'll be there."