Work Text:
P.C. Miller was not having a good day. Her toddler threw a fit, throwing a bowl of oats across the table and causing everyone in the kitchen to have to change their shirts. On top of the extra laundry associated with that, she didn't have time to scrub the sticky substance off the wall and it was now undoubtedly glued to the plaster. She was already running late and it had started raining to boot. A soggy day in the countryside writing tickets to assholes was not what she was longing to do with her life.
Not thirty minutes into her shift, the first one appeared.
The black classic car driving erratically at speeds far too high for this two-lane road was undoubtedly owned by an asshole. For a moment, she considered letting him go. He could drive off, blissfully escaping the consequences the rest of the world has to abide by, loving his asshole life doing asshole things.
She sighed. Then, P.C. Miller heard the song blasting from the open window and turned on her siren. Putting "Bohemian Rhapsody" into her head this early in the day was a bridge too far.
The car screeched to a halt, stopping so abruptly that if there were any passengers, she hoped they were wearing safety belts because otherwise they'd be plastered across the windscreen.
When she rapped on the window, Miller paused, tapping her foot. The music stopped. She heard a strange rippling sound and the window rolled down slowly, creaking with the grinding of what must have been ninety-year-old hinges.
There was no driver.
Miller stared into the sunglasses carefully perched on the snout of a giant black snake sitting in the driver's seat. It nodded to her and said, "Is there a problem, officer?"
She shook her head and said, "No, no problem at all. I'd recommend you decrease the volume though, to decrease the chances of hearing loss. You don't get it back, you know."
"Will do," the snake said.
The window rolled up just as slowly as it had been lowered and the black Bentley pulled back into traffic.
"Death on two legs" started playing, lower but still quite loud, as the snake in sunglasses drove away.
P.C. Miller called in sick for the remainder of the day.