Hey everyone! I'm back with the Rom-com as promised! Updates might not be as prompt as with 'A race to freedom' due to the festive season and traveling, but I will try my best to have the fic complete by at least New Year! Enjoy reading and please review – I appreciate critique and compliments equally!

Spencer

How To: Talk your way out of a ticket

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! "Shit!"

I took deep, calming breaths, hoping no profanities would escape my mouth once the officer knocked on the window of my black Jeep Wrangler. I was so busted. That STOP sign really came out of nowhere, and frankly, so did the traffic cop. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think of something, anything, to talk my way out of this. I couldn't afford another ticket. My license was on the brink of being revoked.

"Good afternoon ma'am." He was quite the gentleman, leaning down, flashing a bright white smile after courteously flashing his badge. Really? Was that supposed to make me feel better?

"Uhm…" Think, Carlin, think!

"May I see your license and registration please?"

"Uhm..." I reached over to the glove compartment and nervously pulled out what he was looking for. If he was going to verify the details… Oh, God, I'm in so much trouble.

He took my license and gave it a quick once-over. "Please wait in your vehicle, Miss Carlin, I'll be right back."

He started to step away, and finally, finally, my vocal chords stunned me – well, both of us, really – in its presence. "Please, officer, I honestly did not see that Stop-sign. It never used to be there, I take this road every day." I threw in a pout.

He did stop. And seemed very entertained by my begging. Typical guy. Douchebag. "Oh? Are you sure about that, Miss Carlin? Because from where I'm standing," he turned and squinted in the direction of the glorious sign a couple of feet away, "that sign looks pretty worn down and quite grown into the roots there."

Was he really being sarcastic now? Could he not see the predicament I was in? I stared at the sign anyway, blushing at the absurdity of my statement. That sign looked like it grew up there.

"Okay, so… I didn't see you?" Well, that was a blatant truth.

He had the audacity to laugh! "If you didn't see me, then I presume you skip the sign every day?" His voice was playful.

I couldn't decide which was worse – being caught out in a stupid lie, or this officer trying to flirt with Captain Lesbian. "No, not at all. It's just… " I swear my guardian angel just shoved an imaginary teleprompter right in front of my eyes. It's about time!

"I'm pregnant and I feel fat and ugly and I've got my appointment which I'm late for and my boyfriend's going to dump me as soon as he finds out and my parents are going to kick me out and the world just hates me right now!" None of that was true, but I rested my head against my steering wheel anyway, just to add to the drama. I surprised myself by squeezing out tears. What the hell?

"Let me assure you, you're not fat, ma'am," the officer reassured me gently. Oh, if only you could see the abs hiding underneath this shirt!

"Thank you, but it's not going to change the fact that I am," I continued sobbing. I suddenly wondered why I never took up acting.

There was a moment of silence and I watched him from the corner of my eye as he contemplated what to do. My heart started racing in anticipation. "Look, Miss Carlin, I'm going to let you go with a warning – I'd hate for you to miss your appointment. But you be careful now on the road, for you and your baby. "

I almost laughed. Almost.

I wiped the tears from my blotchy face. "Really?"

He nodded. "But only this once. Next time I'm going to have to write you up."

I could only offer a faint smile in fear of my shit-eating grin showing face. This had been way too easy. "Thank you so much, officer…"

"Jones. Officer Jones. And for what it's worth, Miss Carlin, your boyfriend would be an idiot for dumping you." His bright teeth would put the streetlights to shame. I almost got blinded.

"You're a real gentleman." What? I had to give him something.

"You have a good day now, Miss Carlin."

I watched in my rearview mirror as he strolled back to his squad car, got in, and drove away.

My heart was pounding against my chest – and for more reasons than just having talked my way out of this. Excitement took over the slight shock of what I've just done, and I realized I'd just found my next article.

Yes, I, Spencer Carlin, was a writer for IN-NY, a very popular women's magazine in New York. It was not my dream job, but it was a foot in the door of becoming a travel journalist. Until then, I was the resident How-To writer.

My articles were entertaining, and people loved it. I generally used real-life experiences, but kept it to the humoristic side. My boss went crazy for it. And that was part of the problem… The reason I couldn't write what I wanted was because everybody loved these damn How-To's too much. I just couldn't help it – I was handed these situations on a silver platter!

I nearly jumped as an open magazine landed on my desk, unannounced.

"You keep this up, Carlin, and I'll give you what you want very soon."

I looked up at Paula, who leaned against the edge of my desk, and gave an appreciative smile. At least she was trying. But I knew when she said "keep it up", it meant, keep doing it forever.

"I especially love the first step," she leaned in to read from the magazine, "Casually start picking your nose as the officer approaches. He's apt to let you go with a warning so he won't have to touch anything of yours. It's brilliant, Carlin."

I continued smiling. I just hoped she didn't think I actually did all these things. Eeeeew.

"I'm very curious to know which one you actually used to get out of that ticket. Was it; To cry and say you had a terrible birthday? Or did you fake an accent so he thought you weren't from around here?"

I shook my head, laughing. Paula really seemed to have enjoyed that article.

"Wait, don't tell me! Did you say scissors when he said papers? Did you just drive off, Spencer Carlin?" I couldn't tell whether she was excited or disappointed.

"No, Paula, I'd never do that," I chuckled. I watched her pick up the magazine and scan over the How-To article again. And then it clicked.

Paula looked at me, her expression something between stunned and admiration. "Oh no, you didn't!"

I knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Pregnant? Really? Did he even look at you?"

I laughed with her as I recalled my little incident with the traffic officer over a week ago. "I think the tears scared him away. It was all I could think of, honestly."

Paula chuckled and finally pushed herself away from my desk. As much as I enjoyed talking to her sometimes, it was also unnerving. Paula's sudden mood swings were very well known at the office.

"Well, let me leave you to it then, I'm looking forward to your next article, Carlin. Meeting's in an hour, then you can tell us all about it."

I swallowed hard, watching as she left my cubicle. I haven't even come up with anything new yet.