You grin as a convertible speeds past, flicking on your siren immediately. You’d gotten enough of a glance of the woman in the front seat to hope things would go a particular way. She stops almost immediately, and you smirk as you approach her. “I’m sorry, officer. Is there a problem?” She tries, pushing out her chest. “You were going five miles over.” You tap your pen, raising your eyebrows. “Any particular reason?” “I’m late for work.” She licks her lips and grins. “But, officer, I’d appreciate not having to pay a ticket... I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement.”