Warning: Tomadashi, Police AU, and a dash of illegal stuff.

A/N: Hey guys! So I haven't written a fanfiction in a while and this is my first BH6 story- hope I didn't mess up the characters :D

She lost count a long time ago of how many times she's sped through the streets of San Fransokyo. At the same time, she's lost count how many times the police sirens have blared in her ears behind her in a pursuit.

Gogo Tomago glares up at the office gray ceiling in the jail cell they placed her in. Taste buds devoid of sugar, she wishes she had a piece of gum to chew on. They forced to her spit out her other piece before confiscating the rest of the pack.

There's a first time for everything. Because now she can count, on her fingers, the number of times she's been arrested for speeding.

One.

She's lucky she hadn't been wearing her usual gear though.

She stares through the bars of the cell at the wanted poster of a young woman wearing a black and yellow racing suit and a matching helmet before glancing down at the clothes she is wearing now. There's a good amount of black on her clothing, but no yellow.

Good thing she borrowed Wasabi's helmet before too.

The door opens and in steps a man who is certainly at least ten years younger than the police officer behind the desk. He walks towards his colleague, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat behind his dark hair. Then he stares at her for a moment.

She glares at him. He's the reason she's behind bars right now.

It's all too familiar now, the feeling of the wind hitting her face so hard, even making a bubble with her gum is possible. The tail lights of the cars that she weaves in between have become blurs now and the sound of car horns and chatter and shouting she can no longer discriminate between.

Sooner or later, police sirens join the cacophony. From the corner of her eye, Gogo spies the red sirens and grunts, bending down closer to her yellow bike. Her opponent has been left in the dust a long time ago, but she keeps going. They planned to meet up at the starting line anyways at the end of the race.

It's a dangerous life to lead, as an illegal racer, but right now, she doesn't care. She can't care enough about the possibility of being arrested for her need for speed.

Wasabi shakes his head every time. ("You're gonna get yourself arrested, one of these days.").

She presses her foot on the gas pedal harder and the engine roars louder, as the bike propels forward. She takes the next turn off the street, skidding around the corner with ease. A few more turns later, she's speeding down yet another street. But unlike Main Street, this street is much quieter, less reflective of San Fransokyo's city nightlife.

By then, the police cars have given up the chase. With a snort, Gogo lets out a triumph smirk, while not letting up on her speed. There's a reason she's known for her need for speed. She knows the ins and outs of illegal racing.

She plans to the slow down at the next street. The apartment that she shares with Honey Lemon is nearby. No point in leaving scorch marks on the pavement welcoming her home.

At least that is her plan. Because from a not-so hidden street comes the put-put sound of a moped with a guy driving it and then there's the sight of a white before she slams on the brakes, the tires screeching to a stop. It's too late though as she crashes into the other rider. They both yell in surprise, both their vehicles and the owners crashing into one another.

Gogo is lucky enough to land on top of the moped's owner. When she regains awareness of her surroundings, she sits up so her weight's not on his stomach. She studies him; he looks fine, they both should be since they're both wearing helmets.

He groans and sits up, rubbing his head. "Ow…" He opens his eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

She nods curtly. "I'm fine."

Instead of a relieved statement though, he takes a sharp breath of air, eyes widening. She doesn't understand why, until he hooks a pair of handcuffs around her hands, flashing his badge to her before making a phone call.

The police come in no time.

"Ms. Tomago?" She looks up from her seat in her cell to see him, the police officer, fishing the jail keys from his colleague. Approaching her cell, he continues warmly, acting as if they were simply a pair of acquaintances. He jams one of the keys into the lock.

"You're free to go now. Since this is your first offense," (She snorts, but luckily, he doesn't notice. He must be a newbie- now that she thinks of it, he actually appears to be around her age.) "We'll let you off the hook this time. You've already paid the fine too. Just try not to do it again."

Nodding, Gogo saunters out of the cell and then passes the officer. He stops her again.

"Here." He tosses her pack of gum. "I thought you might want it back."

She takes a piece out and pops it in her mouth. "Thanks." Savoring the sweetness, she blows a bubble, only for it to pop.

"No problem. Nice bike by the way." He adds once she's almost out the door. For a second time, she turns towards him in curiosity. "Electro-mag suspension wheels?"

She raises a brow and blows a bubble. Pop. "Yeah."

The pleasant smile on his face doesn't waver. "Cool." He looks like he wants to say more though, but really, it's been a long night and last thing Gogo wants right now is be stuck in a conversation with the police officer who arrested her. He seems to pick up on that and motions towards the door. "See you around then. Your friend's outside waiting for you."

Turns out he wasn't kidding about seeing her again.

The Lucky Cat Café is crowded just as it always is every morning. Dressed in her street clothes, Gogo pops her gum again, poring over her notes on the table in the far corner of the café, for what must be the thousandth time. Even if her electro-magnetic bike was a success, back in SFIT, there's always room for improvement.

That's when he makes his move. He slides into the seat across from her with a cup of coffee.

"Hey! Long time no see."

She looks up. He's not in his uniform this time- a gray t-shirt, a blazer, a pair of jeans, and then a green apron to top it all off. Nodding in greeting, she stares at her notes again and blows up another bubble.

Pop!

"…Any reason you're here?"

He chuckles. "Technically, I should be asking you that. My aunt owns the café. I help out sometimes."

Ah. Well that explained the apron.

"Tadashi Hamada." He offers, taking a healthy sip of his coffee. "What's your name?"

"You already know." Gogo points out, eyes still on the papers. "Why ask?"

"That wasn't official." Tadashi explains quickly. "I'd prefer ask people themselves for their names than from a sheet of paper. So what's your name, Speedy?"

She furrows her brow. It's not her notes that are confusing her. But then she shrugs, chewing her gum. "…Don't call me that. Makes me sound like a puppy."

"Alright then," He affirms with his hands partially up in surrender. "What do I call you then?"

"Ethel Tomago. Graduate at SFIT. Call me Gogo."

She starts seeing Tadashi a lot more often at the café after that. Although that might be because she gets her friends and herself coffee from there each morning. She comes into the café at exactly seven o'clock in the morning, when it opens up and exactly thirty minutes later, he'll slide into the seat in front of her in his green apron and worn baseball cap.

Sometimes they talk. When they do, it'll be about mundane things, their everyday lives. Never about his job or her nighttime activities though. It's strange really, for her- as a police officer, she'll think he'd try to persuade her to stop speeding through the streets of San Fransokyo for her own safety.

But he doesn't. So she doesn't bring up the subject because she loves the feeling of adrenaline lighting her blood on fire too much to give it up.

Other times, she curtly tells him she's working. And then he nods, grinning all the same without seeming fazed. He sits in front of her anyways with a cup of coffee and donut. Sometimes he brings paperwork out to the table too.

One time, she asks him why he sits with her. Shouldn't he be helping his aunt out like every good nephew does?

Tadashi waves her question aside, giving a casual answer on the table with her notes scattered across the surface. "I help out mainly with the baking and the night shifts. Aunt Cass handles the customers fine anyways."

There may be a hint of guilt in that answer too though.

He's not lying when he says that in to Gogo's rationale. But then another conversation (a very rare one about his job) comes to mind; his shift at the police station starts at eight in the morning, around the time she leaves the café to get to SFIT on time.

He never mentions that he'll be late to his shift and never leaves their table (when did it become their table though?) until she does.

She doesn't think much of it though. If Tadashi's late to his job every morning, that's his fault, not hers.

"Still working on your bike?"

More gum chewing. She nods, tapping her fingers against the table. Something is up with her bike and she can't figure out why. Why won't it go faster?

"You must really like your bike." Tadashi comments, watching her pore over her blueprint designs. As usual, the café is almost empty save for them, a couple of businessmen and women, and his aunt, prepping behind the counter.

"I like speed." Gogo corrects him and he raises both brows in curiosity. She elaborates a little more, just for him. "I like going fast."

"That would explain the electro-mag wheels, wouldn't it?"

"Yep." A pause. "How did you know?"

He leans forward on the table while stretching his legs beneath. She doesn't move when they nudge against her legs. "My brother dabbled in it for a while. That and I used to go SFIT. I was a robotics major there."

She blows up a bubble, only for it to pop moments later. "What's a robotics major doing in police department, then?"

He shrugs, looking out into the street. "I feel more productive there; I'm helping more people this way than at a university studying."

She doesn't quite understand the logic in that and once again, who is she to complain?

Besides, she could never be selfless like that. She's selfish, she supposes- looking for speed rather than helping others.

This time, when she's driving, she's in her usual gear.

Yellow and black suit, light, yet tight-fitting to reduce any resistance. Honey even supplied it with a matching helmet. Her bike, on the other hand, is pitch black, the only traces of color being the thin stripes of yellow on its wheels.

It's another challenge to a race. She gets the request in one of the familiar alleyways by a punk rock gangster who must be more than at least six inches taller than her. He smirks, climbing on his bike and running his hand through a bright green mohawk with way too much hairspray sprayed in. He probably thinks she won't be fast enough.

Unimpressed, she pops her gum before spitting it on the ground by her bike.

And then they're off.

Once again (unsurprisingly) Gogo quickly pulls ahead of her opponent while they weave through the traffic-jammed streets of San Fransokyo. When she takes a glance at her 'rival', who is barely on her tail, she smirks beneath her helmet and imagines him growling, incensed over his fore coming defeat.

Good. Maybe that'll teach him a lesson.

They soon cross the finish line and without stopping to gloat in her victory, Gogo veers off one crowded onto another, leaving her challenger in the dust. The adrenaline runs through her veins as the sound of police sirens fill the background.

She doesn't bother to check behind her though and grips her bike handles harder now so she can accelerate down the avenue faster now. It shouldn't be hard really since speeding without batting an eye is second nature to her, but as she speeds pass one alleyway, an unexpected light shines in the next one.

The sound of an engine comes to her ears and then the sight of a police car comes to view and it looks like this the police's new plan. Corner her from all sides.

Unlike the last time they caught though, she doesn't panic and try to brake. At the speed she's going that'd probably be more dangerous than safe anyways. There's not enough space between her and the car to swivel around, but Gogo still doesn't try to throw herself off the bike. Instead, she switches lanes, from the street to the empty sidewalk, positioning herself in front of a wooden board and a set of trashcans-

And she climbs up them via bike, only to catapult herself over the police car.

As she's flying through the air over the car, she looks down, only for time to freeze for a moment.

It's Tadashi, this time in uniform, sitting in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel. Unlike his senior partner with a scowl, he's gaping at her, eyes wide with awe and curiosity and for some reason she likes that look on his face-

Her cheeks go red. Never before has she been gladder to have that helmet on.

The moment ends though and she lands on the street again, perfectly balanced on her bike still. Taking one last look at Tadashi in the car (though it looks like she's staring at all of her chasers), she speeds down the street into the night.

"Was that a new bike?" He asks her casually the next day at their spot in the café.

She's caught off guard by the question, takes a sharp breath of air and then relaxes, crinkling her nose in nonchalance. She shakes her head. "No. It's one of my older ones. Not fast enough."

He takes another sip of his coffee, his eyes fixed on her. She looks back at him, unsure of what he's thinking, but based on the look in his eye, she'd like to think it's filled with something like curiosity or amusement or maybe even attraction-

"Cool." He says at last lightly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Eventually, around the time she's supposed to leave, she gets the courage to ask him.

"Why?"

He acts as if she weren't asking the obvious. "Why what?"

She scowls, not looking at him and chewing her gum. "You know why. Why haven't you arrested me yet?"

She thinks he must be a really good actor because he pulls back, giving her an incredulous look. "Do you want to be arrested?"

"Of course not." She huffs, now irritated. "I just thought it was your job to keep law and order in the streets."

"But they don't have your face, you know," He interjects, helpfully, brightly. At least to him.

She scoffs. "And the importance of that is?"

"They wouldn't be able to prove it's you under the helmet."

She pops her gum. "You did."

"Ah," He cries out softly, gleefully. "So it was you on the bike."

"Get back to the point, Hamada." She growls, glaring at him.

"Right, right-" He chuckles nervously. "Well, the wheels were electro-mag." He shrugs, drinking some more of his lukewarm coffee. "I figured it would be you."

"Which brings us back to point one." She deadpans. "Why?"

He snorts, much to Gogo's annoyance, before chuckling. "You're not wearing the suit now. I wouldn't be to prove it was you without it. And besides, the police department isn't exactly familiar with electro-magnetic wheels."

He makes a good argument there. Technically, unless someone else had the same idea, Gogo would be the only woman so far to own a set of electro-magnetic wheels, made by yours truly. Still, that logic doesn't stop her from furrowing her brow, glaring the police officer with a Cheshire grin, or crinkling her nose. Finally though, she ends up groaning, clutching on to her temples. She blushes at the same time too.

Unbelievable. He is unbelievable.

Did she say that aloud, because Tadashi chuckled a little more with a set of bright eyes on her.

"Just look at it from another angle."

The third time she bumps into him on the street during her nighttime activities, he's walking, strolling on the sidewalk. Instead of crashing into him or flying over him though, Gogo, this time, slams on the brakes so she comes to a smooth stop next to him on the street.

He tilts his head as she lifts her helmet from her head and blows a bubble.

The bubble pops. "Hey."

He greets at her with a small smile and his hands in his blazer pockets. "Hey. Need something, Gogo?"

The words get stuck in her throat for a moment. She can't back out now- especially not with Honey demanding that she did or else the taller woman would confiscate Gogo's bike keys. A hint of red tints her cheeks.

He's a police officer and yes, she's an illegal racer and technically they really shouldn't get along, but for some reason their relationship or whatever he wants to call it works anyways and part of Gogo would like for that relationship to become something more.

He squints with interest. "Now?"

"Now."

"Where would we be going?"

The sound of police sirens fills the silence between them. Checking behind for any sign of flashing lights, Gogo tosses a spare helmet over to Tadashi. With a smirk (where did this confidence come from again?) she motions towards her bike, which is electro-magnetic, of course.

"Don't know. But we can find out."

.

.

.

Fin.