Book 4: My Hands Are Tied (Axl Rose FanFic)

Ch. 4: Hot Fuzz

"Axl has the kind of presence and star power that threatens authority figures." -Slash

I'm dead.

I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead.

But nothing hurt. No blood was cascading out of me. There was no bright light guiding me up to Heaven, nor was there some deep, menacing laughter as I nosedived into the flaming pits of Hell. In fact, I still felt very much alive. The cool night air still enveloped me in a light breeze, wafting the stink of the dumpster over me every so often and causing my neck tie to lightly tickle my chest with each passing breeze. I also realized I was still clenching the cigarette in my mouth, as the pungent taste of tobacco and a myriad of chemicals stung at my tongue, informing me that I'd been clamping down way too hard for a while now.

I'd snapped my eyes shut at the sound of the gunshot. Now that I knew I wasn't dying, I cautiously opened them one at a time to see the man was splayed out on the ground, with his hat fallen off his head and resting on the cracked pavement beside him. A much larger, much better-looking blond man dressed in a police uniform was kneeling on top of his back, pressing him into the ground a little more aggressively than was necessary, and working on wrestling him into a pair of handcuffs. The pistol the man had been aiming at me had apparently been thrown a few feet away during the scuffle, and was now cautiously being picked up by the woman. Without missing a beat, she put the safety on and emptied the mag as if she had done this kind of thing hundreds of times before.

"Actually, I'm the back-up," the policeman informed the scraggly man as he dragged him back onto his feet using the strength of a single, well-sculpted arm. "And we're going to get well-acquainted here real soon."

"You wait right here," the policeman snapped at both me and the woman before dragging the criminal off towards the street. I assumed his cop car was somewhere over there, though he must've been careful not to use his sirens or his lights when he pulled up if that was the case.

In his absence, the woman turned back to me, her icy blue eyes flashing furiously.

"You idiot! I told you to leave," she hissed. "You could've been killed!"

I frowned. She may be the woman of my dreams, but that sure was a shitty way to thank someone who had just saved her life. "Says you. You weren't doing too hot yourself there."

"It doesn't matter," she snapped back. "What happens to me doesn't matter. But you..."

Her eyes softened a bit, her sharp features dulling from steely daggers to butter knives. It was similar to the look she'd given me before, back when we both had thought the assailant was going to shoot me. I liked getting to see this side of her, as I suspected not many people got a chance to. She came off as the type to not show herself except when pushed to extremes. Lucky for me, my life was guided by extremes.

"I'm here to protect and serve," she finally said, reaching into her pocket and producing a gold and silver badge that read in big, block letters: "HOLLYWOOD LOS ANGELES POLICE" followed by a number.

I grimaced a bit at it. This is going to be a massive boner killer.

"I don't want you dying on my behalf. Stay out of the way next time." Her words were harsh, but her tone betrayed them. Damn, she really meant it. As much as I hated the pigs and recoiled from her a bit after this newfound revelation, I had to admit that she at least seemed to be taking her position pretty seriously. She at least actually seemed to care.

"Hopefully there won't be a next time," I said just because I wasn't really sure what else to say. She obviously wasn't going to thank me for saving her ass, so I wasn't going to press the matter further. I'd rather leave things at that than allow my displeasure to start taking control of my mouth, saying things I didn't mean and scaring her away before I even had a chance to get closer to her. I was very proud of my self-restraint today; Izzy would be impressed.