Thread: Driven to the Edge [Blu and Driven]

The backroads went by like one huge blur as Desmond drove back into town, the feeling of getting licked by the same opponent multiple times looming over his head. Not just licked, really. She proved to him that she was talented. She kicked the man's ass. The city lights reflected off of his cruiser as he finally made it 'back into civilization' as he liked to call it. The occasional glare from oncoming traffic shone in as he drove back to the station, still trying to rationalize what happened. Did he bite off more than he could chew? His mind would dwell on that thought, the beaten 4.6 humming in the background as he questioned his own skill behind the wheel. Was he a professional racing driver? No, but he knew he was good and most of his colleagues would be hard-pressed to disagree. He was never the type to blame the vehicle, but in this instance it had to be the case. If they were wielding similar equipment, there was no way in hell would she have evaded him. Eventually the police cruiser pulled into the station. The adrenaline from the chase had long worn off, but it was still eating at him. Desmond made his way inside. A couple of officers had people in cuffs, whether or not they were from the street racing bust wasn't readily apparent. Even if he'd magically brought in five of the little fish, that wasn't what he cared for. He straightened up on hearing a familiar voice call out to him. Taylor! Come here. It was Greg, offering a welcoming wave over to where he was seated. Desmond's walk was heavy, at 6'2 he wasn't the tallest man, but he was far from small. Not to mention that everyone had an extra weight to their step when they were agitated, How the the hell-- Greg did that subtle hand motion to signal for Desmond to lower his voice. Reluctantly, Desmond continued on at a more appropriate volume, How did you get back here so fast? He grit his teeth, Where the hell were you? Whoa whoa whoa, one at a time, man! You sound like the old ball-and-chain, Greg chuckled. This shit isn't funny. You left me hanging back there. I coulda used that backup. No, -you- left -me-. Greg shifted in his seat, Nobody told you to up and try and play super sleuth. His demeanor suddenly became a lot more serious as he leaned in closer to Desmond, You need to cut this 'Super Cop' shit out, and cut it out soon before it bites you in the ass. Everyone else in here plays by the rules, what else makes you so-- Taylor! My office. Now, the aged voice barked from across the room, cutting Greg's lecture off immediately. Desmond felt that chill down his spine that every kid does when they think they're about to get in trouble. Followed by that walk that seems three times longer than it really is as he made his way into the Sergeant's office. He closed the door behind him and awaited what he knew would be nowhere near just a friendly chat. Taylor, I need you to explain something to me here, the Sergeant's eyes trained on some paperwork at his desk, How is it that you were the first on the scene tonight, yet you're the only one who came up empty handed? I engaged in pursuit, however the perp got away-- The perp got away? You claimed there were over 50 cars out there, and your excuse is that, 'The perp got away'? The sergeant looked up to Desmond, That wouldn't have anything to do with your active refusal to obey protocol, would it? Seeing as this isn't the first time something like this has happened. No, sir-- Get it together, Taylor. You're a good cop, but you're not a one man army. The world doesn't revolve around you, life is not an action movie. You need to start doing your job and doing it right before I have to bench you. Are we clear? Yes, sir. Dismissed. With a silent nod, Desmond left the sergeant's office. Only to see Greg laughing and shaking his head. Desmond's immediate response was to flip him the bird.