Vignettes on Driving—Zamiel
IV.
It's such a beautiful day outside, Michiru reflects, savoring the feel of the wind rushing beneath her hair and on her skin. It's like a painting by Michaelangelo, gorgeous ephemeral clouds decorating the sky, Debussy in the car stereo, the smell of spring in the air… She glances over at Haruka in the driver's seat, carefully drinking in and enjoying every nuance, every little bit from the curve of Haruka's jaw and down the long neck, the collar of her shirt, her hands on the steering wheel. Such beautiful hands.
"Haruka." A contented sigh siphons from Michiru's throat. "I love—"
A sudden, violent squeal throws Michiru off-balance as the car lurches forward, Haruka gunning down on the accelerator. "Hang on!" Haruka shouts, laughing triumphantly as they shoot under the traffic lights and clapping the wheel in a self-congratulary gesture. Michiru scowls at her.
"Haruka, a yellow light does not mean speed up!"
"Hey, we've got places we need to be!" Haruka looks into Michiru's frowning face and immediately softens. "Okay, you're right. What were you saying before that?"
Somehow the mood had completely disappeared. "Nothing."
"Oh?" answers Haruka dubiously. An uncomfortable silence pervades the air until Haruka sheepishly clears her throat. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong? Tell me."
There is a pang of apology in Haruka's voice that makes Michiru melt. "Haruka, I—"
"Wait," Haruka interrupts, "we can make it, we can make it—" She's eyeing the yellow light four blocks up ahead and driving her foot deeper into the pedal.
"Haruka!"
"It's not that far away!"
"Haruka!" Michiru shrieks as Haruka whips past the traffic lights, chortling and very pleased with herself.
"Did you see that, Michiru? It didn't even turn red yet!"
"God, Haruka!"
"What? What?"
Michiru sits tight-lipped as Haruka fishes for the right words to say, the silence between them broken by a siren blaring from behind.
"Shit," Haruka growls, pulling the car over. She glances over at Michiru who, oddly enough, is smiling. Michiru had a large collection of smiles, some sweet and some more alarming than others; this one clearly belonged in the latter category, a grim smug "You're going to get what's coming to you" plastered smugly across her mouth. Haruka watches the cop amble over towards them, dimly toying with the idea of throwing one solid "World Shaking" before jetting off.
"License and registration please, sir."
"Good morning, officer." Haruka puts on her most benign smile. My, I didn't realize I was going so fast.
"It says here you are underage. And that you are female. Is this some sort of fake?"
"Oh my." Michiru's voice drifts lazily towards her. "However are you going to get out of this one, Haruka?"
"If you look at that license, you'll find I got it overseas. And for your information," Haruka snaps as next to her, Michiru gives a bemused chuckle, "I am a girl." She watches the cop's face for some startled sign, but he hands back her license without even so much a twitch.
"Do you realize you were going over 90 in a 30 miles per hour zone?" he asks in a stern Daddy Cool kind of way.
"I'm sorry, officer. It won't happen again."
"It better not," he answers darkly, "or else we're going to get that license revoked. Now I see you have a clear driving record and you have not been in any former accidents, and I really shouldn't be doing this, but I'm just going to write you up a ticket and let you keep that license. Don't disappoint me again, you hear?"
"Thank you, officer." Dickweed.
He hands her the ticket, Haruka doing her best not to gawk at the enormous fine penned below. Michiru continues to sit in smug silence as they pull out and get back on the road, Haruka driving with strict discipline until the cop vanishes from sight; swearing, Haruka knuckles down on the accelerator.
"Haruka!" Michiru admonishes. Haruka laughs, a kind of jilting, maniacal laugh that makes Michiru wonder if her partner has gone insane.
"Yellow light," Haruka garbles, pointing up ahead.
