title: officer, officer, tell me the truth

pairing: sasuke ო sakura, au.

disclaimer: do not own naruto!

summary: Sakura just wants her morning coffee. Instead, she gets pulled over by (The Gorgeous) Officer Uchiha Sasuke. Woe.

how many times can i get in trouble with you?

It all starts at 7:26 A.M. on a Wednesday.

(I haven't even had my morning coffee yet. It's that bad.)

I'm only a mile away from school, waiting on what must be the Longest Red Light That Ever Was.

Seriously.

I've actually been sitting for five minutes, and because I have nothing better to do, my mind starts doing that thing, where, like, it makes me sort sort of ponder about my whole Life Situation and the meaning of it all, and because it's just way too early and I'm not mentally capable of dealing with anything that actually matters without my daily dose of White Mocha, I revert back into my role of Shallow Teenage Girl, and check myself out in the mirror.

I catch my reflection: rosy, unshampooed hair raked back into a bun. Choice outfit of an oversized t-shirt and sweats. No makeup.

Ohmigod, nevermind. Mission Teenage Girl is aborted in an instant, on the basis that I look disgusting.

(Because, of course, my alarm clock hadn't gone off, because, being the genius that I am, I set it for 6:00 P.M. instead of A.M. because I obviously don't suck at enough things, so my subconscious has decided to add telling time to the list. And, so in the five minutes I had to get ready, I hopped into my current, woeful ensemble.

I'm seriously hoping Ino has some spare clothes.)

Speaking of Ino, she chooses that exact moment to send me a text.

I sort of jump, a bit, because, freaky, much? Like, she must have ESP or something.

The red light has obviously decided that it's here to stay, so I glance down at my phone.

Ino: meet me at starbucks asap. THIS IS NOT A DRILL

I roll my eyes and respond.

Sakura: what is it? school's starting in like 5 min

A second later:

Ino: ….but I neeeeeeeeeed you. cute barista is making eyes at me & the other one looks lonely

Sakura: no time for boys, ino, you know that

Ino: you mean no time for boys since sasuke graduated...ooopsy that slipped

Wow, Ino. Way to go and add to the pile of Things Sakura Hates About Her Life.

I'm about to send a colorfully-worded reply when I hear a loud beep and then another and then the ugly, enormous car behind me is trying to channel its inner D-bag and just beeps and beeps and my Inner Road Rager sort of... y'know... emerges.

It's a problem. I know. But I can't help it, really; my two best friends are Yamanaka Ino and Uzumaki Naruto.

'Level-headed' is practically synonymous with impossible.

I honk my horn, and, with expert precision, if I do say so myself, I cut the jerk off, speeding off into the distance like the goddess I am. Ha.

"Taste that?!" I shrill, neck craning out the side of my precious, cherry-bright convertible. "That is the flavor of failure, you—" My brain blanks, and I finish, lamely, "you stupid head!"

Okay. So my insults need work. Sue me.

I'm not witty/even fully conscious until after 12 P.M.

Anyway.

I'm home free, reveling in my Utter Fabulousness, when I realize, holy mother of prada, I've been spacing out, and ohmigod, ohmigod, I am veering off into the breakdown lane and are those police lights flashing in the ugly jeep I just told off—

Oh, balls.

I pull over. Not like I really needed to, or anything, considering I was already illegally cruising through the wrong lane, but that's just a minor technicality.

I sit, shaking in my (I look down, and groan) tattered, hot-pink tennis shoes from seventh grade.

Wonderful.

I glance at the clock. 7:32. School started two minutes ago.

How lovely. Well, it was nice knowing you, perfect attendance record. You can hang out in oblivion, right with my dignity.

Okay.

I'm telling you, in a past life, I was a cannibal, or something along those lines, because some sacred deity or whatever actually relishes in torturing me on a daily basis.

Because the jeep door opens and—

I stop breathing.

"No way," I hiss. Because, is this real life? Is this a joke?

"No, no, no, and did I mention no? Freaking. Way."

I contemplate suicide as freaking Uchiha Sasuke steps out of the police-jeep.

(Brief Interlude From Regular Programming:

He does look quite attractive in uniform, however. Mm. I give myself a moment to lick my lips and ogle at his Utter Deliciousness, and then he is standing at the side of my car, and my eyes are definitely still glassy or something, because he gives me his Signature Uchiha Glare ©

It's pretty hot.

Not gonna lie.)

My brain turns back on a second later.

Damn Uchiha.

I should have known better.

(Seriously, I've only loved/stalked this boy (man) since I was seven.)

I knew his dad was the chief of the Uchiha Police Station.

I knew that Sasuke would become an officer when he graduated, last year.

And yet, as fate would have it, I am currently grinning sheepishly at the flawlessness that is his face, as I fumble for words.

"Um." He has yet to say anything. Some things never change. "Ah, hi there, Sasuke. Fancy seeing you...here?"

He does not look amused.

I kind of just... stare at a point far, far beyond his head, to prevent further enchantment or whatever.

"So...Sasuke..." I squint up at the clouds. "How are you?"

Then...

Ohmigod.

Sasuke makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle (ew, no, a laugh. A reserved-ish half-laugh). And my eyes sort of snap right back to him, and his lips are all smirky and he says, in his deep, gorgeous voice:

"Sasuke?" Sweet lord, those eyes. "What happened to 'stupid head'?"

Holy.

Crap.

My voice does this high-pitched (wholly unattractive) squeaky thing, and I squeal:

"Pleasedon'tarrestme!" My brain-to-mouth filter has just shot itself in the face. "I mean, we've known each other since kindergarten, and like, we almost kissed once, during spin-the-bottle when I was in sixth grade and I totally helped you with your algebra homework that one time and—"

"Sakura."

"—you totally owe it to me because you've known that I've—"

"Sakura."

"—been in love with you since I was like, twelve, and even though I told you last year, you never said anything and we haven't talked since you graduated and ohmigod I did not just say that out loud."

And then, silence.

I'm officially an idiot.

Like—I don't mean, oh, okay, like, sometimes I mess up at life. I can be dumb, but I am generally a competent, aware, and intelligent human being.

No. Not even. I wish.

I, Haruno Sakura, at eighteen years old, have reached Uzumaki Naruto levels of fail (no offense, love the boy like a brother, but, um, have you met him?).

There is no hope for me.

None at all.

I think I might just die of embarrassment, so I write up a mental will:

All my clothes go to Ino, even though she says they're all nun-like.

(Puh-lease, I've seen her eyeing my gorgeous leather boots for years.)

Naruto can have my candy stash from Halloween.

Hinata can have my stuffed animals.

Ino can have my laptop, too I guess.

Neji can have my hair-care products, I can tell he'd appreciate it—

I'm about to select the person who will get my iPod and my curtains (shut up, they're cute) when Sasuke speaks.

"Get out of the car."'

I balk.

"Are you going to shoot me?"

"Sakura," he says impatiently, and I push the door open in an instant—

And knock it straight into Sasuke.

"I'M SO SORRY."

He doesn't, like, soar into oncoming traffic or anything, but I can tell I knocked the wind out of him.

And, because, when Sasuke is concerned, I lose the ability to think, I place my hand on his shoulder and promptly freak the heck out.

"Are you alive? Are you okay?" And then, "OHMIGOD, I JUST ASSAULTED AN OFFICER. Sasuke, please, please, don't arrest me, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, you know I'd never...wait! I'll—you can have my baby!" His eyes bug, and I clarify, "My car, I mean, like, of course I don't have a kid—I've never even kissed—mmph!"

Well, that certainly changes things.

My first kiss happens on the side of the road, at some unfortunate time in the morning, on a Wednesday; I haven't washed my hair in two days, and I'm wearing sweatpants, and have embarrassed myself more times in ten minutes than I have in my entire lifetime.

Drivers in passing cars wolf-whistle and honk.

I don't mind.

It's perfect.

When Sasuke pulls back, he says, softly, "You ignored me." I blink, bottle-green eyes hazy with post-kissing feelings, when he adds, "After you told me. I never had a chance to tell you..." He looks away, and I almost scream, because Uchiha Sasuke is blushing! "This."

Aww. Verbally Constipated Sasuke! It makes me feel nostalgic. Like I'm twelve again.

But obviously, our little, ahem, side-road rendezvous, has rendered me incapable of thought, so I blurt: "Does this mean I'm not arrested?"

Sasuke gives me this very long, very amused look.

"No," he says, and he definitely pauses for dramatic effect— that jerk! Because before I begin to cheer, he tacks on, "But I'm still giving you a ticket."

"WHAT?"

I glare at Sasuke's sexy, sexy back as he goes back to his hideous police-jeep and begins to write something on the slip of paper that I assume is my ticket.

What. A. Jerk.

"I thought you loved me," I whine, but I accept the paper, anyway.

I'm leaning against the side of my car, as I have been for, like, the strangest half hour of my life.

He doesn't say anything —but the red in his cheeks says tons, haha!— and he looks like he's struggling within himself before he leans over presses his lips to mine, again, in a short, sweet peck.

I swoon.

We part, go our separate ways—like Romeo & Juliet—

"Get to school, Sakura," he says, completely killing the mood.

(I remember the Calculus test that I likely missed during first period, and sigh, groping for the handle to the front-door of my car.)

"See ya, Sasu-cakes!" I blow a kiss as he moves backwards, giving me space to get inside.

Such a gentleman.

(He also looks very reluctant. Muahaha. I am so charming. And wily. Yes.)

Sasuke glares at the nickname, but it seems half-hearted. He nods, though, in like, acknowledgment.

He stands on the side of the road, staring after me as I drive away, before getting into his own car.

He so loves me.

I'm pulling into the school parking lot, when something on my ticket catches my eye.

Or, well, the lack of something.

It's blank.

I pick it up, confused, and turn it over.

I'll pick you up at eight tonight.

Wear something nice.

P.S. I'm sorry this took so long.

P.P.S. Loved you since second grade.

"OHMIGOD!"

I can't help it.

I squeal. I flail. I happy-dance. I totally plan our wedding.

Today is officially The Best Day Ever.

And it's not even noon, yet.

I totally (don't) doodle Uchiha Sakura all over my notes, for the rest of the day.

Totally.

fin.

author's notes:

1. had SO much fun writing this one! please leave your thoughts in a review? (:

2. aha, sasuke is ooc! ummm, well he has his family, so, let's blame it on that?

3. ahhh, i edited it a bit to make that less prominent, but, alas. i hope you still enjoyed it though!

4. cop school takes 6 months (thank youuu 21 jump street!) lawl.

~Nora