AN: Bad Tempest doesn't update enough! Bad, bad Tempest. I know. I'm sorry. I started off so well with this one too. I'll get it all posted I swear. Might not be in as big a hurry as at first, but it'll all get posted. Whether part two will ever hit the internet or not I dunno but we'll see. Lil' miss Tempest has a lot on her plate right now :) Just so we're all clear…I don't own 'hot cop' and I took some liberties with his character after I borrowed him. Unfortunately his character is all I'm at liberty to take liberties with. :D Anywho, here we go again, ya'll know the drill.

The Funeral of a Good Girl

By – TempestRaces

Chapter Fifty Three – Of Black Pots and Meeting Kettles

With a long suffering sigh, Tempest looked over at the dark girl beside her as she flew toward the mouth of the alley. What on earth had she done to deserve ending up with Mia in her car, after everything else? Was there some karmic process or God of some sort laughing at her right now? Whatever she'd done that she needed to be punished for, what she was getting had to be way more than she deserved.

"Thanks for not leaving me behind," Mia offered, her voice almost shy.

"Yeah, whatever," Tempest growled back.

"I never got a chance to tell you, but I'm sorry for what happened the other day. I didn't mean anything by it. It just sort of happened."

"Yeah, that's super. Great reason. You know as well as I do that you have no interest in Vince. Who is it helping to act like you might change your mind?"

"No one." Mia fluttered a hand in the air in an attempt to organize what she wanted to say. "It's just that he's a different person around you, and it confused me. I shouldn't have let that confusion come across like I might be changing my mind about him. Besides that, he wouldn't be that person for me. You change him, in a good way."

"Remind me of that the next time he's calling me a bitch in front of a crowd of strangers, would you?"

Mia sighed. "I never said you made him smarter."

She said in such an honest, long suffering tone that Tempest couldn't help her laugh. "Fair enough."

"Can I ask you something? Even if it's something I have no right to ask?"

Mia's question startled Tempest. The car had fallen into silence which had remained unbroken for several minutes. Tempest had been concentrating too hard on her driving and avoiding cars, police and pedestrians and it had felt like Mia had run out of things to say. "Sure, I suppose." She dodged another patrol car of L.A.'s finest, listening to her car for the slightest sound that was out of the ordinary. Despite Jesse's assurances, she wasn't totally convinced she hadn't harmed her car with her stunt.

"Why do you keep letting Vince back in after each idiotic thing he does? He just hurts you time and time again, but it seems like you give him chance after chance anyway."

Tempest thought about Mia's question. She really thought about it. "I don't have a good reason. Every time I have myself convinced that I won't be so stupid again, that I really am done with him for good, he does something to change my mind." A grin took over her face, even as she dodged between two cop cars that tried to box her in. "I pulled a knife on him yesterday night."

"What?" Mia questioned in shock.

"Yeah, he had me pinned, ordered me to start to strip and when I bent over to stretch my pants over the top of my boot where the knife was hidden, I came up with it in my hand, pressed it to his jugular and told him where to get bent."

Given that Tempest was still alive, and seemingly in fine health, Mia had to figure that her stunt hadn't backfired. "So how'd that end with you and him still being all over each other?" Mia blushed. "We, um, couldn't help but overhear certain things when we were having dinner."

"He took the knife from me, and once," Tempest looked at Mia with an eyebrow cocked, before quickly turning her gaze back to the road, "we were done, he picked it back up off the floor and put it back into the sheath in my boot. I would have cut him. He had to have known it. I wouldn't have let him bleed out in a club maintenance room, but I would have cut him bad enough to protect myself and he knew it. But he gave me back the knife anyway. It didn't enter his head to keep it, or even to warn me against ever pulling it on him again. I can't promise you that I would have done the same. Fuck, I know I wouldn't have. I would have lectured on what would happen to him if he ever thought to pull a blade on me again."

"And he never once went off on you for it? Not in any way?"

"No. So I gave him another chance last night, and today. But there is no next chance from what he said tonight."

"You sure?"

"Could you look at the man who called you 'his bitch' in front of about ten thousand people the same way?"

"I guess not."

Finally clear of the crush of other racers and cops, Tempest passed a few 'normal' cars to give her a cushion of space from the pack of other decked out cars and turned up and down a few streets to further distance herself from the others. She knew without question that being caught in a pack of other racers was a sure assumption of guilt on behalf of the cops. Given that she had a large quantity of cash in her trunk, she really didn't want to be caught. Even if the money was hidden below the subwoofer and spare tire cover. If a cop found it, it was going to raise questions she did not want to be answering. The only problem with changing direction so many times was she found herself totally lost. "I hate to admit this, but I got no sweet clue where we are."

"Far from home, but its ok. Turn left here."

Tempest did as instructed and followed several more of Mia's directions. She thought they were home free. She figured if they hadn't been caught by now, they weren't going to be. That was when she looked up and saw the flashing lights in her rear view. "Ah fuck. Do I outrun them or pull over?"

Mia glanced in the mirror on her side. "Well, I don't think he has any proof you're doing anything illegal right now, does he?"

"No, but the whole car might very well be illegal down here. I didn't look at it too hard because I really wanted to take it."

"Can you outrun him?"

"Yes, but not if he calls in a bunch of backup. There's no where along this road to lose him. So if I outpace him, he's libel to just call in a bunch of backup and have them block the road off up ahead anyway."

Mia felt panic bubble up. She couldn't get picked up by the cops. Dom would kill her. "What're we going to do?"

"Well, don't panic for fuck's sake. They smell fear and nervousness." Tempest looked over at Mia and saw the sheer terror on the other girl's face. "I'm being facetious. It's going to be fine. At worst, I'll likely get a fine. Might as well pull over and see what he wants." She signalled her lane change and started the process of pulling over. On some instinct she wouldn't look too hard at, as she drifted slowly off the road, she wiggled her lacy black tank top up her body and looped the hem of it around the rucked part between her breasts a few times, securing the tail behind her bra. When she was done, it looked as though she was wearing a lacy bikini top, her stomach on display. For good measure she opened the top two buttons of her low rise, button fly jeans which exposed her black lace underwear.

"What are you doing?" Mia hissed as she watched in the side mirror, waiting for a cop to approach the now shut down vehicle.

"Hoping it's not a chick cop," Tempest answered with a smirk. "I'm stacking the deck." She looked down at her now barely covered breasts and exposed abdomen. "As it were."

"What if he's old and nasty?"

"He's even more likely to like what he sees then, isn't he? Let's hope against female and gay for now."

"If I get taken in, Dom's gonna kill me!"

"Last time I checked, riding in a car wasn't illegal."

Before Mia could answer a cop was knocking on her window, which Tempest lowered, given that Mia couldn't find the control on the unfamiliar door. The cop shined his flashlight into the car, and upon not finding the steering wheel, bent over and looked into the cabin. Tempest waved jauntily from her right hand seat. The cop stood up and walked around the nose of the car. Tempest watched him shaking his head as he skirted the nose.

"License and registration please Miss."

"Was I doing something wrong officer?" The cop's voice was pleasant, carrying a slight accent. From what she could see of his body, he clearly worked out. A lot.

"Do you have a license to operate this vehicle Miss?"

"Yes Officer," she forced a giggle. "I do. But it's a horrible picture of me. I look so much better in person." Another vapid giggle.

"Can I see it anyway?"

If she didn't miss her guess, there was laughter in the cop's voice. His flashlight certainly was pointed straight at the open top of her pants. She pouted even though he couldn't yet see her face. She knew the tone would carry into her voice. "I guess so, if you insist."

"I'm afraid I do."

Tempest handed over her license only, as that was the only thing requested the last two times. The cop took it. She leaned out the window slightly to watch him check it out. At least his light was off her crotch now, she mused with a smirk.

"Registration Miss? Or dare I ask, given that this clearly isn't a car of American origin."

"Coming from someone with a touch of Ireland in his voice, that's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" Tempest asked cheekily. She cursed herself internally a moment later. She'd forgotten her airhead act. The cop laughed out loud before he could catch himself. She handed over her registration with a grin. She was enjoying this battle of wits, or pretending not to have any, with one of California's finest. "You'll find the car isn't of American origins and neither is the owner. But I guess you had some idea about that when you tried to run the plates, no?"

"What sort of car is this miss?" He chose not to answer her question about her license plate, which clearly bore a picture of the Confederation Bridge, not something found on the plate of any American states.

"It's a Nissan, Officer. Doesn't it say so on my registration?" she asked in mock confusion.

"Yes, but a Nissan Skyline isn't a car I'm familiar with, so I just figured the registration was doctored or fake."

"Not at all. It is a 1990 Nissan Skyline, which is insured as a 1990 Nissan 240sx because the Skyline wasn't available in North America and the 240sx is the closest Nissan car that was."

"Is this car legal for operation in the USA, Miss?"

She leaned out the window to look the cop in his eyes. His gorgeous eyes, she noted with a grin. "I dunno officer. You tell me," she smiled in a flirtatious manner. "If you wanna frisk me, I won't put up too much of a fight. But we both know I don't have a lot of extra room in these jeans for hiding things." She watched as her words brought a grin to his lips before he wiped it off with some effort.

"Can you get out of the car Miss, and pop the bonnet please."

"Sure." Tempest did as asked. She got out of her seat before bending over in the cop's direction and fumbling for the hood release. She was willing to bet that the extra slack in the waist of her pants granted by the open buttons made sure the top of her lacy boyshorts peaked out. She walked around to the nose of her car and the cop joined her.

"Open the hood please."

"I don't know how officer." She pouted. "That's what mechanics are for."

"You drive a car like this and don't know how to check the oil?"

"That's what full service is for."

The cop took in her lean body with a look. He hit her hands with his flashlight. "Where'd the dirt come from?"

"I'm a dirty girl. It coulda come from any number of places." She grinned. "Officer?"

"Officer Street."

"Seriously?" she asked before she could help herself. They sent officer Street to break up street races? That was pretty damn funny. She kept her snort of amusement mostly to herself.

"Yeah, why?"

"Not a name we have where I come from," she retorted quickly, thinking on her feet. Making the street racing connection wouldn't be a smooth move right now, and she knew it. "So, Officer Street," she said as she watched him pop her hood, "what are we looking for?"

"NOS."

"NOS?"

"Yeah, street racers use it to boost their horsepower and go insanely fast down our public roads. But you wouldn't know anything about that," he looked at her license, which was still in his hand, "Miss James, would you?"

"No Officer Street, I wouldn't." She pouted, telling herself she wasn't technically lying. She wasn't using NOS, she was using nitrous though. A fine line, she told herself, but a line none the less, push come to shove. "Was I speeding when you stopped me?"

"No. But there was reported racing in this area tonight, and your car fits the profile." He shone his light into the engine compartment.

The sight of her engine filled her with motherly pride. She wanted to fawn over it, cop watching her or no. She wanted to crow about how she'd built it, designed it, raced it, won with it. She wanted to brag it was hers, all hers. That it had beaten the king off his throne straight onto his overdeveloped ass muscles. But instead she looked down in feigned puzzlement. "So how will we know if we've found NOS?" She put her hands on her hips as she looked at her engine with total concentration. She sincerely hoped her pants didn't fall down.

"We should see the injectors." Officer Street, who knew next to nothing about high performance automobiles, as he was far more into high performance guns, looked where he had been taught to look for her nitrous injection nozzles. He couldn't see any sign of them. He moved to the still open driver's side door and checked everywhere he could think to check for the activation buttons or anything that would prove the vehicle was equipped for nitrous. He couldn't find a damn thing. He looked up at the woman still standing in front of her car and caught the playfully smug look she was giving him when she didn't think he was watching.

She was playing the vapid coquette and it intrigued him to find out what was really lurking under the surface of the toned body and all too intelligent green eyes. Her eyes gave her away. They were entirely too expressive by far to allow her to play dumb. She knew there was nitrous installed in her car and she knew why he couldn't find it. But he couldn't prove it, and more over he didn't want to. Because he was going to do something he rarely did. He was going to let her go. With a stipulation or two tacked on, of course.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" All she hoped was that he didn't attempt to honk her horn. With the nitrous system turned on—which it still was—the buttons did not work to control the horn.

Laughter veritably danced in her eyes. It was barely restrained in her voice. So many of his fellow officers would have attempted to break her down, cited her for whatever they could just because she was so smug. But he couldn't find himself to care. She was just so good at it. Surely he was entitled to play god every once in awhile. All the others let people go when the mood moved them, but he never did. They were supposed to be tough on street racing. And in principle he definitely agreed with the zero tolerance policy. But he'd never met a racer quite like Miss James before. He rejoined her at the nose of her car. "No, but I suspect you knew all along I wouldn't." He handed her back her license and registration. "Is that your real name, or are the papers faked?"

"That is my real name," she admitted with another fake bubbly grin and giggle. "So I like had my car painted like a storm. You get it? Tempest. Storm. See?" Her head cocked to the side and the same mirth flickered in her eyes in the most enticing way.

"I see a lot of things, and that is one of them," he grinned back in spite of himself, and fought an urge to tap her softly on her slightly tip tilted nose. "You do know that lighted license plate frames are illegal in the state of California unless they are red, don't you miss?"

"I did not know that, no, Officer Street. Thank you for the tip. I'll turn them off for the rest of my stay."

"Just having them on the vehicle is illegal, Miss James."

"Please, call me Tempest. And I can't imagine I'll be able to find someone to remove them in the few days I'll be here Officer. What should I do?" She tipped her head to the side in question, fighting a grin. They both knew what she was doing, what act she was running. She found that made it even more fun.

"Well, if you'd see your way into having dinner with me tomorrow night, I could see my way into over looking it. And making sure you don't have any trouble for the rest of your visit."

"Well, gimme your number, and if I can fit it in, I'll give you a call."

"If that's the best you can do, that's fine. But in that case, the best I can do is let you go tonight. If you get picked up by someone else, I won't be able to help you."

"Fair enough," Tempest answered. She held out her hand. "Give me your number and I'll be in touch."

He gave her a card with his name and number on it and let her get back into her car. She called out the still open window. "Be safe Officer Street! Have a good night!"

"You too Miss," he checked himself, "Tempest. Have a good evening, Tempest." The unfamiliar name felt awkward on his tongue, but it suited her perfectly, he mused. "Drive careful and safe."

With a laugh, Tempest started the car and pulled away from the curb. She was still laughing like a loon a few minutes later. Mia, once they were safely underway without a trip downtown, or a fine, joined her.

Mia could only muse that having balls as big as a man could be a benefit in a female sometimes. Only because she'd been courageous enough to play the games she had, Tempest had not only gotten away with all her violations, but done it to end up with a date with the hansom officer.