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As the night fell upon the busy city of New York, the representatives of the criminal sphere crawled to the streets like vermin, infesting it in the matter of hours. Depending upon the district one could find anything - in Queen's and Bronx there was gang activity, voyeurism, prostitution, Manhattan prevailed in rapists and small scale criminals roaming about the Central Park, and so it went for the rest of the city. Prostitution, of course, was the most prevalent 'crime' of all. Whores filled the streets and dark corners, risking their lives to make some money. The cheaper ones were in the poorer neighbourhoods while the ones that have already paid for their spots oftentimes worked in more 'upscale' places.

On one of these richer streets where the whores wandered inconspicuously, prowling for new clientele or waiting for the established one stood a solitary girl, Dawn Drake. On the streets, they called her Butterfly. She was very young, merely twenty three, and worked all nights only to study all day. While she was one of the people who actually more or less enjoyed doing their job, she knew that it wouldn't last or bring her far. The amount of money she has already saved up would allow her to live well, especially since many of her clients were important businessmen and politicians. They wanted complete anonymity, so they went to her instead of calling a call girl.

The girl usually dressed well yet her job called for display. After all, she was mere merchandise and she had to show it off properly. With a pair of black leather pumps, a school-girl mini-skirt and a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, letting her black lacy bra peer through, she looked almost like a high school student, a very provocative one that said. Most men were more attracted to girls in costumes, and this night was no different. Freed from another client, she stood on the street, watching the cars pass by, offering playful smiles.

Her makeup was smoky, surrounding her large green eyes and her skin was flawless, holding a touch of blush to shape her cheekbones. On her lips was no lipstick for practical reasons, yet she was beautiful nonetheless. If it wasn't for her height of five feet and four inches, she most likely could have been a model. Instead, she did the streets. Her legs were long and slim, breasts an ample C cup edging a D, her skin lightly tanned. A soft sigh escaping her lips as she realized that the night would not be very successful, she approached one of the cars, leaning in slightly, letting the man see her ample cleavage before shifting herself up with a tempting smile. She was playing it risky - after all, he easily could have been a cop, yet otherwise men seemed to be too preoccupied to notice her. Wednesdays were definitely not good for work.

Miles Murphy flicked the ashes of his cigar out of his ’74 black Cadillac DeVille as he waited at a red light. He was an agent for upcoming artists of New York, at least tonight he was. He had the look for it wearing a wrinkled long sleeve striped dress shirt with a bright yellow tie that smelled strongly of smoke. He wore a faded pair of jeans that had a small rip below the knee of the left side. The back of his car was full of empty McDonalds bags and scratched out lottery tickets. His short dark brown hair looked like he had just woke up and his face didn’t look like he had shaved for a couple weeks. Aside from all this he remained still handsome. It was the type of look that the girls wanted to take him home and clean him up but didn’t actually.

His light brown eyes looked tired, this was the only part of the Irish cop that wasn’t an act. He had been undercover for a week now. He was supposed to pick up drugs and girls from the corners. So far he had made about half a dozen arrests, most of them being drug dealers so he decided to try his shot with the girls of the evening. Miles was old school for his young age of only thirty one compared to most police officers. His father, grandfather and great father were all police before him. In fact he entered the force while he’s dad was still apart of it. He figured his dad was always proud of that, at least Miles was.

All the men in his family were poor Irish immigrants and it was the only thing they could really do. Miles was a bastard, his mother left him to his father after a week of Miles being born and he was raised upon his father’s drunken Irish songs and his tales of the police force. To stereotype most of the crime in New York was due to immigrants. Irish, Russians, Italians, Africans, Hispanic, whatever. Immigration had given the city life. From all the minorities there were just as many of them apart of the force. They had to even things out of course. It was an ongoing battle, a constant cat and mouse catch.

You had to do things to eat. Miles could understand that completely however something happened to crime over the years. Drugs, a new breed of criminal were born. In the old days a desperate man would rob someone in an alley to eat for a week. Now you have men attacking women just so they could feed their addiction for an hour then go out and do it over again. Prostitution was morphed into this. Many of them were drug addicts, many of them robbed their clients. Many of them were murdered, many of them spread terrible diseases through the city. It was no longer an underground business but a growing virus plaguing the city.

He cruised up to one of the more expensive areas for high ranking girls. Usually it went from corners of overweight women and transvestites to corners with actually nice looking street walkers to escort agencies. This was the nice looking street walker corner. He was an art agent after all, he was supposed to be able to afford the nicer looking girls but not have enough money for the luxury for them to come to him. He looked around, there was about four or five girls that looked like they could be offering their surfaces. He had an eye on one dressed in school girl clothing, he was praying she wasn’t in High School or the arrest would end up going no where since she would be under eighteen. He pondered it, it was worth it if he could get a young girl off the street before she ruined her life and after all it could just be a costume. He drove up to her location but not exactly in front of her, she needed to approach him first for there to be a crime. He put his car in neutral and waited patiently.

Dawn let out a soft curse as the man in the car turned out to be a manly looking woman. Apparently not quite interested in lesbian sex, either, not that it was something the young girl enjoyed much. On the other hand, it paid quite well when the women were mother-like figures, worried about the fact that the girl was underfed. Watching the empty streets, she let out a sigh, her gaze trailing off to the other women. A couple of them appeared to have completely resigned, counting their cash before walking off to their dealers. In spite of the fact that they were located in a more 'pristine' area, there were always a bunch who worked to pay for their coke. She shook her head, snickering to herself. One of the women could barely stop her nose from bleeding at times.

While she too occasionally indulged in drugs it was only marijuana, at times ecstasy when she was feeling especially tired. However, she didn't take much, only enough to get a high and get over with the clients. Through the day there was no time - between working out, studying over her laptop, no university would keep her if she were to get arrested for prostitution so she played it safe, and simply trying to get some sleep. The past week has been hectic - it was getting hard to keep her appealing although small apartment seeing how much she had been spending and how little she has been working due to studies.

Hearing a car, she instantly stood straight, ready to make any man feel like he was special. The others reacted in the same way, acting like predators ready to pounce on their prey. Of course the moment they saw the car and the man most changed their minds - everyone kept on thinking a miracle would take place and one of the politicians with a frigid wife would pass by. Dawn, meanwhile, didn't have the patience and could use warming up. She could see her breath escape her mouth in a thin white line whenever she exhaled. Walking up to the man slowly, she bended over the window, offering him a smile. ''Hey there,'' she mused, brushing her tongue over her lips. ''Would you like to warm up?'' She questioned softly, her feline gaze trailing over his attractive face, her voice smooth and seductive.

Great! The she took the bait. It had to be his devilish handsome looks or so he’d like to think he thought to himself with a goofy grin. The woman leaned over to talk to him showing an reasonable amount of cleavage something quite common for street walkers. For a prostitute she was quite pretty, it was a same she was throwing her life away. Soon enough she would look worn out and used from all her disgusting clients he could figure. Your average male who went to a prostitute was rather elderly in their later forties or earlier fifties if not that they’d be quite overweight. He didn’t know how they could do it in all honesty. As his mind kept running he realized he was staring at her cleavage without him noticing he’s sure she would notice though.

He considered apologizing somewhat embarrassed but soon shook his head at this thought considering she was probably used to it. “Warm up, yeah it’s a rather chilly outside isn’t it?” He said cooly acting not too excited about the idea. If he looked too anxious she would get suspicious. “With that outfit I’d imagine it’s even colder for you, why don’t you hop in? Heated leather seats.” He told her patted the black leather seat beside the driver’s spot. He hoped she’d hadn’t had much experience with under cover cops. Most girls few for his traps quite easily but a few had been around long enough to know what to look for.

Miles was usually used to drug busts himself, they were quite easy on small scales and the biggest dealers he didn’t usually deal with. Dealing with prostitutes he had only been dealing with a couple months now and still wasn’t too confident about the whole idea. Luckily for Miles it wasn’t nearly as dangerous as dealing with drug dealers, if his cover was blown it wasn’t exactly she’d pull a gun on him. He would just never be able to show his face on this corner again in or out of uniform.

Dawn watched her potential client slip away into his own world, glad that he wasn't locking up his doors or offering her drugs. Her grin widened at his remark regarding the weather. In spite of his laid back attitude she was certain that he fell for it and was hers. A part of her wondered if it was best to ask him if he was a cop. Then again, the night was so slow it wouldn't matter - a night in jail was all she would get, it was always like that the first time. After that things would go downhill if she got caught - with fines and increasing amount of nights at the station. ''Oh, great,'' she mused, pulling the door open.

She took a seat, crossing her long mostly bare legs. She leaned back against the warmth, for a moment feeling like a child. It was a pleasant feeling. She then glanced back at the man, biting on her lower lip. Hopefully he would take her a while, she thought to herself. ''So, handsome,'' she mused, shifting herself slightly to face him, her eyes never leaving his face although it didn't quite matter to her where he was looking. A part of her was used to being a piece of meat. ''What can I do for you tonight?'' She mused, cocking her head to the side, her hand sliding along his knee, her touch light as a butterfly's.

He grinned as she got in his car. She was under the impression he was hers for the night, quite the opposite in reality though. She was quite naive and must have been fairly new to the game not to even ask if he was a cop. There was a hidden mic in one of the McDonalds bags in the back recording everything. He needed her to offer him sex first before he could make an arrest. As tempting as it was to touch her he didn’t. He didn’t want her flapping her lips to a court about that, it would get him fired.

“All buckled up beautiful?” He asked her as he stepped on the gas. He could feel her eyes gazing on him. This could mean two things she could be trying to make him feel special. He hated that, he realized that’s how they made their money but even while it was undercover he was always disappointed with women pretending to be interested in him when they had none what so ever. On that note he heard her handsome comment, with an annoyance in his voice he responded “Hmmm, you really think so huh?”

He cursed to himself, little outbursts like that could cause her to catch on. “I don’t look nearly as good as you look babe.” He said as quickly as possible after his prior comment. “I don’t know hun, what can you do for me? What’s on the menu for tonight?” He asked her trying to hint at what he was after, what he needed on the voice recorder in the back seat. “I’m quite into any possibilities.” He tried to look at her long bare legs as pervertedly as he could which didn’t come too hard after how she looked.

The girl blinked, for a moment growing rather confused. She has had an encounter with someone who had similar outbursts, and it didn't end very well. That was the biggest problem with prostitution, nobody cared enough to actually protect you. You just hoped that you wouldn't get killed and waited until the wounds healed before returning on the streets. Sometimes, there was no time for the wounds to even start healing. ''Yes, I do,'' she replied earnestly, nodding. His following comment seemed more like a cover-up. She wasn't stupid, something was wrong with the guy.

''I can do anything,'' she mused suggestively. ''If you want something really weird, pay double, otherwise it's a hundred per hour,'' she stated, having reduced her usual fares by quite a lot - he looked like an artist, perhaps a beginner or something along the lines. She doubted that he would be able to afford her full price and even though she wouldn't make much it was more than nothing.

''I do hope we're going somewhere warm though, your steering wheel doesn't look very comfortable,'' she teased, her hand on his leg slowly sliding higher along his thigh. Her eyes never left him, trying to probe for emotions or other sudden changes in his mood. The biggest advantage in New York was an incredible amount of traffic in most places - it gave her the time to jump out of the car if worst came to worst.

“I have a small apartment near by, you’ll love it” He told hoping the traffic would start moving soon, it was getting to be an annoyance. He could arrest her in the car but it would be much easier to be at the station or at least parked. He was driving her to the police station, he took a way that was a bit longer in case if she had been to jail before she wouldn’t quite remember this was to be the way. She was getting warmer to what he wanted on tape, it was probably enough but it was never a bad thing to get too much on safe.

“Your outfit gives me some ideas...” He trailed off licking his lips. He could make it in Hollywood but it wasn’t like he was exactly acting. If he were sent on a blind date with this girl he would definitely want her hands all over him. But alas she was a prostitute, the only women he had been seeing lately, due to work of course. She looked rather healthy but who knew what she was on or what illnesses she had gotten. “How about some roleplaying? You play as the naughty cheerleader who has to stay after class for detention which involves me fucking you against the chalk yard, how much would that run me?” He asked her to get on tape. To be completely honest he was actually quite curious.

It was also a good thing to get some info on the girl as well. After a few moments after his first question he turned to her cooly and said, “I like to know a little about my ladies to be on the safe side, you legal babe? How exactly old are you?” If he asked too many questions after each other she could catch on to who he was. He had to make out to be just an overly talkative customer. “I didn’t even catch your name, mine’s Corey.” So far so good, not bad one more he could probably get away with. “You don’t look like you’re from here babe, I love the foreign chicks, where were you originally from?” There that should all be enough for his tape.

Dawn smiled at his comment about giving him ideas. She was fairly easily fooled by his act, yet it wasn't because she wasn't careful enough, his eyes and body language told her that he was open to her, that he wanted her. Not that he was driving off to a police station. ''Oh, sexy,'' she mused quite frankly, studying the male. She could picture it already - she usually did so for the more attractive clients, created a story for them in her head. That they were dating, that it was all nothing but a simple game. It was odd but it helped her get things over with.

''Hm,'' she rested her index against her lips, seemingly thinking. ''Well, that depends how long detention will be,'' she grinned, shrugging. ''A hundred will do, I suppose,'' she nodded, almost eager to get to his apartment. Listening to his further words, however, she frowned. He wanted too much from her, usually clients wanted nothing but anonymity from whores.

''I'm legal, yes,'' she nodded, taken aback by the question. She didn't look like she was underage. It must be the uniform, she told herself. ''As for how old I am, it shouldn't matter,'' she mused, studying him. ''You can call me Butterfly,'' she bit on her lower lip, eyeing him suspiciously. ''Dad's from Germany, Mom from Ukraine, but I've lived here all my life,'' she finished replying, her nails dragging along his thigh again. ''You're not asking that because you're simply curious, are you?'' She wondered, her voice remaining confident and almost husky although it grew softer.

They pulled into an alleyway that had some doorways to average apartments, something that would like look he would live in. They didn’t have time to go to the station it would have to be here and now. Plus his questions pushed her a little too much, of course she wouldn’t tell her age and name. He was a bit surprised he was a native to New York but she didn’t have an accent so he should have probably have guessed. He parked near a trash can, a few homeless people scattered from the alley who awoke from the noise of the engine.

Her gaze was still on him and she looked like she was day dreaming about something just a little bit. Her hand was still crawling up his leg and she got the amount of money she would have sex for. Quickly he pulled out a pair of cuffs he had hidden from under seat and snapped them on her wrists. He read the young girl her rights and chuckle to himself, this was quite easy. Much easier than he had expected when he pulled up to the corner with the women on it. She was naive, a little too naive which made him a bit suspicious himself.

“These cuffs aren’t for foreplay I’m afraid Miss ‘Butterfly’” He grinned at her. He started up the car and locked the doors from his side so she couldn’t decide to jump out. He started his engine and fly down the street as sped for the station. “Let me formerally introduce myself. Miles Murphy NYPD. I’ll get to know your name I’m sure if not now later in an integration room. Not exactly how you pictured this evening huh? Sorry I ruined your prior engagements.” He joked around sure the audience wouldn’t exactly enjoy his comments.

The girl chuckled as he snapped the cuffs on her wrists, waiting for him to finish his rant. She found it amusing, however. It wasn't something that surprised her though, every woman on the streets was ready for such a situation to eventually strike. She managed to stay on the streets for seven years without getting caught, it was surely a record of some kind. ''Pleased to meet you,'' she rested her elbow against the door, her cheek pressed against her hand. Her legs remained crossed as she watched the officer.

''It's all very amusing and whatnot, but I doubt that this would work as a catchphrase,'' she retroted playfully, seemingly not caring to the least about the outcome of the night. Every whore around told her that the first time was nothing more than forty eight hours. After that, you were free to run wild with a warning and perhaps a fee. Real troubles started later, once you have been caught the second time and so forth.

''So could we go to the station, get my fingerprints and everything? Not that I don't enjoy your company,'' she added, winking at him playfully. The cuffs limited her actions significantly, not to mention she figured that there would be a recording device somewhere in the car - otherwise he would have most likely been acting differently. So, she waited to get back to the station to be completely alone with the man before actually trying anything.

He frowned at her light laughter. He hated kids like this, people who didn’t take their lives seriously and didn’t see the impact of their crime on the rest of the city. “I don’t think you realize the seriousness of this. You’re going to jail.” He informed her, his voice raising in anger but remained to control himself. He didn’t mention she’d only go to police station cell for 24 hours and would be fined $1,500.00 dollars. A steep amount of money but still easily bearable, especially a woman like her. She was probably one of the if not the best looking hookers he saw in the past two months or so, he was sure she made plenty of money from plenty of clients.

“You won’t enjoy my company. I thought you said I was handsome, you’re all business huh kiddo?” He said disappointed with her. She was trying to take him as a joke which angered him but he also felt sorry for such a young girl falling for such a terrible life. They approached the station and he parked his car, got out and opened the door for her. He had to of course because she was in handcuffs. “I always try and be the gentlemen, even if it’s for a common whore.” He shook his head and he helped her up.

“Watch your head, don’t you getting any bruises. Wouldn’t help your business I’d imagine.” He said covering the upper edge of the car door with his hand so she wouldn’t hurt herself. He held her with one hand and grabbed the tape recorder with the other as he closed the door. “Looky what I have here?” He showed her the recorder and smiled as he shut it off. As they walked through the front door the only other officer in the station that night nodded at Miles. “Who’s this pretty thang?” He asked Miles. “If I had a room alone with her I don’t think I would be able to control myself.”

“Thanks Tyson, I’m going to have a blast with this one.” He rolled his eyes and led the girl to a private interrogation room. “Alright, it’s just you and me. Name, age, all that jazz please.”

The girl studied him with a smirk that told him that she knew what was going to happen to her. ''I do think you're handsome though,'' she mused with a smile, studying him. As she stepped out of the car, she studied him with disdain. ''Oh, a common whore?'' She laughed, shaking her head. ''Just because you don't have to live like I do doesn't make me any worse,'' she retorted, studying him up and down, her gaze defiant. She moved her shoulder away, leaning down to step out of the car on her own.

She followed him in silence, rolling her eyes. ''I'm not stupid, you know,'' she stated, walking into the station with him. She flashed the other officer a flirty grin, out of mere reflex. ''Maybe you'll get lucky one day,'' she mused, following the man into the interrogation room. She obediently followed, still silent.

Once there, she took a seat, crossing her long legs. ''Dawn Drake, twenty three,'' she replied, resting her cuffed wrists on the table. She leaned over the table slightly, pressing her breasts against the table, her gaze fixated on his one. ''Can you get the cuffs off, or am I too dangerous?'' She wondered with a feline expression, cocking her head to the side.

“I could women of your profession enjoyed restraints?” He teased getting the key and removing the hand cuffs putting them to the side. Most girls weren’t dangerous and even if they did attack he was built pretty muscularly to take care of himself. He search Dawn Drake in the computer and no criminal record had come up. He was pretty certain however that she had been on the streets for a fair bit of time, maybe not for years like some girls but for more than a couple months at any rate.

“Well it looks like you’re all clean, no robberies, no street walking, no drugs. Not even a damn parking violation. How does such a sweet girl turn out so sour?” He asked her getting a cup from under a cupboard. He passed it to her. “You’ll need to take a piss test to make sure you’re clean of all drugs, not here of course.” He crossed his arms across the table staring straight into her eyes. “ You know what’s going to happen?” He paused for a few moments as he wanted to see if she’d respond.

“You’ll be held here for 24 hours as punishment and fine $1,500.00. I’m sure you’ll be able to afford it. This justice system is an embarrassment that I can only give you a slap on the wrist and you probably won’t learn your lesson and I’ll catch you later, eventually they all go to prison for quite some time though, I hope you get your life together before that happens, you’re young and have a lot of time to settle down, start a family, find a nice guy, someone with a respectable career.” He said realizing he was going into a bit of a rant. “But I’m not your father and I’m obviously not going to tell you what to do, I’m just showing you the reality of things, as sad as it might be.”

Dawn smiled sweetly at the male, watching every movement he made. She shrugged slightly. Hopefully her record contained as little of her background as possible. ''No, most women of my profession enjoy being able to live off the streets,'' she replied in a patient, almost condescendant way. ''Oh, I'm sweeter than a candy,'' she giggled, leaning back against the chair. She took the cup, studying it slowly before looking back at him.

''You won't find shit in my system,'' she replied, pulling her shirt up slightly to reveal perfectly clean arms, not a hint of a needle although she realized that there were dozens of other ways. She listened to him, arching her eyebrow. ''So you think it's an actual crime? That it's worth going to jail for?'' She wondered, curious. She had never understood the taboo around her profession. ''Have you ever tried to understand common whores?'' She questioned, pausing before she started a heated debate.

''It's easier said than done though, isn't it, officer?'' She wondered, cocking her head to the side. ''But thank you for opening my eyes. I have obviously been blind all these years,'' she murmured tauntingly. She then stretched out, the playfullness returning to her face. She was used to rants like that one and didn't pay much attention to them. ''So tell me this, if I'm so sour, why were you looking at me the way you were?'' She mused, biting on her lower lip. She stood up, carefully walking around the table. He would surely put her back in place, but it was fun nonetheless. ''You know, I could still be a cheerleader,'' she reached out, her hand sliding along his chest slowly while she leaned in, inches from him.

Miles paused and wasn’t quite sure to put it in an professional way. “I think there’s bigger issues in the city than drugs and strangers having sex. However that being said due to it’s current legal status here it’s caused a few issues to arise such as disease and violence. As much as you girls like to think the police are out to get you, and perhaps some are, most of us are looking out for you.” He paused silently and stared into space as he remembered a very gruesome murder of three hooks in a man’s basement. “As much as I may not encourage your type of lifestyle I don’t want to see you in a couple weeks in at a possible murder scene either.”

She got up and started to touch his chest. She was clean, she was gorgeous. Miles ran various scenarios through his head. Then he also remembered she was also a whore. “Trust me, I’m no better than you. After all I’m just a poor Irish cop, you don’t exactly need a harvard degree for this job.” He shook his head as he moved back from his touch and pointed to the chair across the table. “I believe there’s a no touching rule here, or so I’ve been told at any rate. Please return to your seat.”

He kept his distance from her, he wasn’t exactly too sure what she was trying to pull on him. But whatever it was it was trouble for Miles and he wasn’t interested in getting into trouble tonight. “I’ll do you a favor if you behave, I’ll let you skip the piss test. I believe you’re clean and as for how I was looking at you, I consider myself a modern day Sean Connery. Quite the actor to say the least, I’m afraid I don’t quite have the looks for the big screen however.”

Dawn studied him, brushing her fingers through her hair lazily. ''Fine, your loss,'' she shrugged, standing up to return to her seat, her hips swaying invitingly during the brief walk back to it. She sat down, leaning back against the plastic. She laughed softly at his following answer, however. ''Do you believe what you're saying?'' She wondered, replaying the memories in her mind. She looked around, making sure that there was no camera in the room. ''I have a lot more experience than you might think...probably almost as much as you have in your job,'' she stated, looking around in search of a clock. She didn't want to spend a minute longer than twenty four hours.

''I don't really care about the test, I don't have anything to hide,'' she stated, biting on her thumb absently. ''Will you punish me if I misbehave?'' She wondered, mischief in her eyes. She didn't want much from him - he was attractive, she enjoyed teasing men. Especially ones with power, most likely one of the reasons she liked working where she did. ''So you wouldn't sleep with me?'' She questioned bluntly a minute or so later, curious how he would deal with her being straight forward.

He studied Dawn as much as she was studying him. They shared that in common in both their jobs. Studying body language. Looking around wildly. For a clock, windows, cameras, microphones, something. He had to give it to Dawn, she was one of the more interesting people to talk to that he had brought in. Usually they were disrespectful, completely silent, or plain crazy when he brought them in here. He felt she was pretty safe to be honest with. She hadn’t treated him with respect or disrespect and he didn’t know quite what to make of her yet. Just a young woman having fun with him he guessed.

“Dawn, you disappoint me. Here I thought we were having a delightful conversation and you seem distracted by finding something. I’ll tell you now this room isn’t monitored at all, so don’t worry about incriminated yourself. I’ve always started the paperwork and don’t really want to change it around, unless you’ve killed one of your clients I don’t really care what else you tell me.” He told her honestly, he didn’t actually mind the attention from the attractive young woman. He leaned closer to her on the table elbows on the surface hold his face up. “I can always show you to your hotel room tonight if you’re not enjoying my company.”

Her last question caught him by surprise. “Uhhh...” he paused seeming a little brain dead leaning back on his chair again. Well there was no surveillance in the room so he could technically speak his mind however he didn’t want the young girl under his custody given the wrong impression of him. “Well from your job I can assume you know you’re quite the attractive young lady but due to our situation currently it would be frowned upon. I don’t see how that question has any relevance though.”

Dawn smiled at his words, she almost felt like he was taunting her. She leaned in as well, shaking her head. ''Oh, but I am, you're the one who seems to be disliking my company,'' she mused, bored of sitting around. Of course it would be even worse if she were to be sitting behind bars with the other officer drooling over her. ''I just don't like this no touching rule,'' she winked, crossing her arms on the table to lean down against them, looking up at him from there. She was coming to like the policeman. Under different circumstances she would have gave him a special or even let him have her without any charges.

His surprise regarding her next question rejoiced her somehow. It felt like a brief victory although it didn't last too long. ''Relevance? I thought the interrogation was over,'' she replied, licking her lips. ''Shame, shame, shame. I did mean it though,'' she yawned slightly, the fatigue catching up to her - after the excess of adrenaline all that was left was a desire for a comfortable bed. Clearly not something she would get that night. She studied him, wondering how long he would be staying with her.

Standing up, she walked up to his side of the table again, taking a seat on the edge right in front of him. She brushed the side of her leg against the side of his absently, seemingly relaxed although her eyes took in every movement he made. ''You know, it's unfair, you killed my plans for the night. I was actually going to finally get some sleep,'' she announced, brushing her bangs away. ''And now I don't even have a comfortable bed...There nobody watching, can't you lift the no touching policy for the night?''

“I wouldn’t I’m disliking your company but you’re trying to get me in trouble. Seducing an officer is typically viewed as a negative thing in our society I’m afraid so as tempted as I am to let the no touching rule slide, our entire country is built upon rules and then where would we be?” He said enforcing the rules of the station. He was a cop with a perfect record, although... He tried to ignore her advances starring straight to the chair she was supposed to be sitting in to make sure he didn’t get too tempted after all he was a single man after all.

“As for ruining your night. I can’t possibly apologize enough for keeping you away from the lucky man who ever you’d be service this evening. I’m sure you’ve had worse sleeps than you will tonight, I can only imagine some of the ‘handsome’ fellows you date.” He impersonated the way she called him handsome. “The cell isn’t too bad itself, I’m sure you can make it comfy with that womanly touch you have there.” He pulled out the keys to the cell and started to twirl them yet as a threat. He didn’t have to put her to her cell at the moment, it didn’t really mind the girl’s company at the moment anyways.

The officer by the door and Miles were the only men stationed her tonight, grave yard shift. “If it makes you feel better I have to sleep on a wooden chair tonight, not exactly a five star hilton hotel room, al though I’ve been in one personally. I’m sure you have though.” He winked at him implying she had seen many New York’s hotel rooms. He wondered to himself silently wondering how many men she had actually slept with.

The girl sighed as he spoke, disappointed. Could that man get any more compliant with the rules? She studied him slowly, shrugging. ''Well that's stupid, you're a man, I'm a woman, what's wrong about that? Besides, I'm not asking for anything naughty,'' she teased, hopping off the table. His following remark made her giggle. ''Oh, don't hold a grudge, I don't date these men, and some of them aren't as bad looking as you would think,'' she smiled, noticing the keys. A brief flash of worry passed through her gaze.

The last thing she wanted to do was to go to the cell. While if she was lucky she would be alone in it, there was a possibility of landing in the same room as other angry, drunk and possibly high whores. She shivered at the thought. They would either rip her to shreds or make her join one of the awfull, barely coherent discussions. It was almost as though their IQ dropped by a dozen points whenever they were in a prison cell.

She circled him, her hands hovering in the air, about a millimeter from his shirt. Enough to feel their presence yet not enough for much more. She leaned in, her lips next to his ear. ''I've seen a lot over the past seven years,'' she mused. ''But that's not relevant. What is, on the other hand relevant is the fact that I could make your wooden chair so much more comfortable if you didn't leave me in the cell,'' she murmured, her hot breath breaking against his neck. ''Besides, the no touching rule only applies to interrogation rooms, right?'' She finished suggestively, her hands trailing down to his chest without actually touching him.

Miles eyes followed her around the room as she continued to hover around it and him. She seemed innocent enough that she wasn’t going to book it away the second he turned his head but you could never be too careful. She floated around the room quite graceful and ladylike. She was all woman and she was right. He was all man, what was wrong with that? Nothing really. His position of power made it wrong, so very wrong. He had to admit he did want her and it frustrated him that he couldn’t have her after she seemed to be oh so willing. He didn’t want to risk his career on one night of pleasure though.

After all that’s what these girls did for their career. They used men as much if not more so than men used them. They were the modern day sirens. Using their charm and looks to luring their prey. She was luring him alright, he could almost feel her delicate soft touch and smell her sweet scent, most likely a perfume. He was lured but not quite hooked yet. Although he didn’t mind an idea of a one night stand the idea of being used overruled it. He was sure she only wanted out early or least not having to pay the fine, he didn’t play games and it wasn’t about to start even with this one.

Miles did however notice a little fear in her eyes when he twirled the keys. He could use this fear to make her to behave, the cop outside would most likely use it to give the girl a “body search.” He didn’t really want to use or scare the girl. Dawn seemed like a good kid after all. He tried to reassure her she was going to be okay. “You don’t have to go to your cell right now, I’m off duty on the streets and I’m here for the whole night so I can look after you if you want to stretch your legs for a little while longer, and lucky you no cellmate tonight.” He didn’t necessarily want to make her punishment any less severe but the girl deserved to know the truth at least.

Dawn arched her eyebrows, taking note of the fact that he didn't move when she moved and that he didn't attempt to push her away any longer. She leaned in a little further, her soft breasts pressing up against his back. She wasn't going to try anything, she wasn't stupid. Twenty four hours were not too much to endure, especially considering the fact that he was around for a part of it. On the other hand in the future things would become more complicated and having a cop or two on her side could make things that much easier and less worriesome.

She brushed the tip of her nose against his jawline, her bright gaze searching his one for something that didn't seem to be there. So she simply listened to him, deciding to see what he had to say and go on from there. ''Great,'' she exclaimed contentedly, her arms on his chest sliding around him in a brief embrace, her lips quickly pressing against his cheek right next to the corners of his lips. ''Thank you,'' she released him, walking around to return to her seat on the table, setting her legs on the chair by his sides, her skirt riding up her thighs.

She thought of the things she could do to convince him, one finally coming to mind. Obvious and simple. ''You know, you don't even know if I'm carrying any arms. We whores are sneaky people,'' she mused, her nails tapping against her thigh. ''There just might be a Swiss knife just waiting to be used here,'' she poked her breast, studying him almost defiantly.

He let out a very low and quiet groan of enjoyment as he could feel her breasts squeeze against his dress top and her lips on his cheek. “I think you’re forgetting the no touching rule but I’ll let it slide this time.” He said with an amused grin as she walked but to her seat. He couldn’t help but notice her skirt riding up. “Oh God” Miles mumbled under his breath as he tried to look discretely as possible at the girl’s nice long legs. This simple pick up the whore routine was getting much more complicated.

Things only got worse when she mentioned him not checking her for weapons, she was right. It was supposed to be a part of the routine and in his haste he foolishly missed it. “You don’t want my hands frisking you I’m sure” he said rolling his eyes sarcastically as he approached her seat. She was trouble. He needed some released anyways, perhaps this would help or perhaps it would just make things worse. “Please stand up Dawn if you would.” He asked her, as she stood up he took a deep breathe.

In any other occasion Miles would be ecstatic while man handling all over a woman’s curves. This time he was more nervous. He started at her legs and slowly started to move up her body. Making it to her rear he could feel how nice and round and perfect it was. The things he would love to do to it. Okay Miles, time to move on he told himself to her flat fit stomach, it was only getting worse. Especially the next stop. He finally started to pat and feel around her perky C cup breasts. This was definitely not releasing anything from him.

Dawn bit on the inside of her cheek, trying to hide the satisfied grin. Her expression was almost that of a cat licking its whiskers after having had a bowl of milk. His self control appeared to be slipping by the second, and she noticed that glower in his eyes, the same one he had in the car. ''Hm?'' She grinned as she heard him mumble something, yet didn't push the matter. ''You got to do what you've got to do,'' she retorted, inwardly cursing herself for having wasted so much time when the answer was so much closer.

''As you wish, officer,'' she hopped to her feet, her heels clacking against the ground. She waited for him to approach, a shiver running down her spine as his hands slid along her smooth skin. He seemed to be hesitating still - his will power was impressive. A part of her almost felt bad. The other coulnd't care less, he did ruin her night. ''Oh, officer, why so hesitant?'' She teased, raising her eyes to look at him when he reached her stomach. She enjoyed his touch, his hands felt like they were strong but rather experienced.

When he started to feel her breasts, she let out a light gasp. She took a small step closer to him, her body almost touching his. Her hands meanwhile slid up to his ones. ''Don't be shy,'' once her hands made their way to rest on top of his ones she gave them a light squeeze, applying pressure on them. Her eyes never left his, her head tilted slightly, as though she was on the verge of kissing him.