Title: Costly Transgression
Author: Jennifer N
Distribution: Credit Dauphine. Anyone else, please ask first.
Questions, comments, and complaints may be sent to jennifer_n97@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They all belong to the brilliant J.J. Abrams.
Summary: A car chase gone awry leads to disastrous results. Sorry, I'm not good with summaries!
Rating: G
Classification: Belated CD Challenge/Humor
Costly Transgression
The blaring siren came out of nowhere in the darkness of night. Sydney deftly sped down the highway, eager to reach her destination before it was too late. There was a lot riding on this. Looming trees and flickering light posts zoomed past her as she stretched her car's capacity to its limit, ignoring the voice telling her to pull over.
The only problem: the voice wasn't hers, it was Francie's.
"Syd!" she screeched. "Pull over before you get us killed!"
Rolling her eyes, Sydney slowed the car and stopped on the side of the desolate highway.
Sydney let her window down and sighed. "California license plate num . . ." could be heard behind them.
"Great, just great," Francie muttered. "We're never going to get to Amy's party."
"Hey, it's not my fault that you drove us into the middle of nowhere and got lost," Sydney retorted sharply. "We're probably halfway to Memphis by now!"
"Well, why did you have to take a nap during the drive to her place and make me drive? How does working at a bank, of all places, exhaust you that much?"
"My work is very important to me, and besides, that's not the point here. The point is that you got lost on what should have been a thirty minute drive!"
"Ahem. Driver's license, please," the police officer interrupted their argument.
Wordlessly, Sydney placed her license in the outstretched hand. "Look, officer, we're on our way to a friend's birthday party. We got lost, and now we're really late . . . we're probably going to miss the entire party." She gave him her best "innocent" look, the kind that always worked on her missions. It didn't matter if she was in Taipei or Madrid or Paris, it always worked.
"Sign here, please," the officer said curtly as he shoved the clipboard in Sydney's face.
"What?"
"Duh, Syd, you're getting a ticket!" Francie answered triumphantly.
"Ma'am, please sign here. You can either pay the fee during regular business hours or go to court and enter a plea. Do you understand?" he smirked at her.
"Yes, I understand," Sydney spat out. "I also understand that I could really cause some damage and add a broken neck to the broken arm that you already have," she silently thought to herself.
"Have a good night," the officer said in a monotone voice as he returned to his car.
Beside her, Francie laughed.
"What?" Sydney asked for the second time in less than five minutes.
"Poor little Sydney Bristow. The dimples don't work anymore," Francie hooted.
"I don't understand," Sydney sputtered. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, I saw you give him the 'sweet and innocent' look. Sometimes the truth hurts, Syd, but I'll go ahead and break it to you anyway—it doesn't work anymore. You're not an innocent little college girl. For all that cop knows, you're an international spy or something. Hey, what's wrong?" Francie quickly stopped and studied her friend.
"Nothing," Sydney answered. "I guess I've been initiated into a life of crime," she added, holding the traffic ticket between two fingers.
"Your next mission is to sneak the crown jewels out of London," Francie said in a serious voice before letting out a giggle.
"Very funny. Well," Sydney said, looking at the clock, "I think it's safe to say the party's over."
"Will's gonna kill us."
"I know."
The two friends sat in the car for a few minutes before Francie broke the silence.
"I think he'll take it better once he hears about your journey to the dark side. In fact, he's going to be kicking himself that he missed out on the fun."
"Thanks," Sydney growled as the ticket caught her eye. "Wait a minute—HOW MUCH do I have to pay?!?"
"Oh, that's the aspect of the criminal world nobody talks about—it's expensive."
"I wonder if the CIA could take care of one little traffic ticket," Sydney mused to herself as she put the car in drive and sped off into the night.