Part 1

Palms - sweating.

Nervous - wreck.

Eyes - bloodshot from too much alcohol consumption.

Head - light - pounding...wait no, the harsh pounding is his heart. He can hear it in his ears.

But, his head is spinning...or...the road is defying the laws of gravity and lifting into the air right before his very eyes.

He blinks, hunching forward, trying to focus as his palms grip the steering wheel tightly.

Wow, what the heck happened to the road? Why does it look so askew? Is he losing his mind?

He's not sure. He's not sure of anything right now except the intoxication he's feeling accompanied by the initial fear he has over the fact that he just got pulled over.

It's the alcohol. In the awesome words of Jamie Fox, he's going to ‘blame it on the alcohol.'

What in the world made him think that he was capable of driving home in this condition? Apparently, being drunk deducts IQ points like crazy. He's not looking to be another one of those celebrities charged with a DUI.

How could his friends allow him to leave the club like this? They had their ritual boys' night out, hitting on all the fine ‘hunnies' in the club since they were free agents. Well, he isn't exactly single per say...not so much. That's not the point right now. The point is they had fun tonight. He was on top of the world.

Now, he's...he's...god he's dizzy.

How could Trace, his best friend, leave him like this? Oh wait, wait he wasn't this drunk when he left.  He told Trace he was fine. He was practically sobered up when he left the club. But, he wasn't ready for the party to be over yet...

That's right, he has an empty bottle of tequila which he finished while driving home, somewhere in this ride and it's...his brand of tequila. Yes, he's a self-absorbed idiot when he chooses to be.

And the reality of this situation dawns on him. There's...there's evidence. That empty bottle is evidence! Damn, where did he put it?

Shit! He's screwed.

He's going to jail, he just knows it.

And now, as he sits idly in his car on the side of the road on this deserted highway, the familiar sting of regret engulfs him, mixing with his fears.

Sighing, a very inebriated Justin rests back in his car seat, lifting his palms to his face, trying to sober up as he says a silent prayer even if he knows he royally screwed up and he's maybe going to get a shitload of karma for this.

"God..." He swallows harshly, his eyes lifting to the roof of his ride symbolic of prayer.  "I'm so screwed. I'll understand if you totally ignore me. But, could you like, maybe, make one of my friends be sober enough to come bail me out of jail later if I end up there? I promise I'll try for this to be the last time I ever get messed up like this...uh...but if not, I promise I won't drive like this again...yeah. Amen." Justin sighs, shutting his eyes tightly to release the ache he feels in them before he flutters them open again. He's well aware that his eyesight is failing him right now as the alcohol he consumed circulates in his bloodstream.

"Fuck this is bad..." He mumbles, his heavy blues lifting to look through the rearview mirror, noting the colorful flashing police lights coming from the car behind his ride.

He just got pulled over.

He just got pulled over by the cops!

In the middle of nowhere!

Seriously? It's almost like they were waiting for him.

He wasn't going that fast was he? He couldn't have been. With the state he's in, he would have flipped the car over a couple of times if he was.

"Shit..." He spits again, his muscles tensing on impact when he hears a knock on his driver's door, the dark outlining of a figure standing in front of the window.

"Act...normal...act...act sober Justin. Whatever you do, act sober." He mutters to himself, giving himself a small pep talk before he winds down his window. "Yes goodnight officer...what seems to be the problem?" He slurs while mustering up a fake smile and stifling a hiccup, squinting when a bright light flashes in his face.

Oh god, they have a flashlight. Really? The dark is better. The dark will hide his features since he's pretty sure his face is flushed right now as he breaks out into a cold sweat.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?" The officer asks sternly in a thick southern accent, their tone feminine.

Justin immediately straightens his posture, his interest peeking when he realizes that it's a woman officer who pulled him over.

"Uh I was...uh..." He drifts, clueless as to what speed he clocked. "Is there a problem?" He asks again, his heart thundering fiercely. He breathes in sharply, the air not filling his lungs fast enough. Ugh, he feels queasy. If she's going to cuff him, she needs to get it over with before he hurls on her or something.

"If you mean the fact that you were doing 20-25 and the speed limit is 70 on this here highway then what do you think the problem is sir? And, you kept swerving into the other lane. You're lucky this here road is practically deserted at night." The female officer voices with a sharp edge to her tone.

Justin gulps hard, his eyes focusing on a slender waist and slightly curvy hips as he's met with the lower torso of the officer dressed in her fitted blue uniform, since she hasn't bent down fully to face him yet. It sounds like she's flipping through some book or papers or something.

This is all too familiar to him but still vague as well since his clouded mind can't make much sense of anything right now.

Fuck, if his girl finds out...he can't go to jail. She'll have his head on a platter if he ends up in jail.

"Oh really?" Justin asks in a murmur, biting the corner of his lip as he cocks his head to the side. "That's...fascinating." He says softly, his dilated blues traveling over the perfect V shape of the officer's crotch in her fitted pants.

"Sir, are you ok?" The woman asks, snapping Justin out of his sinful thoughts.

Shit, what the hell is his problem? He's maybe going to jail, he hasn't even seen what this cop looks like though her accent is kind of soothing because it reminds him of home and he's more focused on the way her crotch looks in her pants, so perfect, so...god he wants to touch it. Just...just one touch...to feel how soft she is...how his fingers feel against her center, making her hot and bothered and...and wet...so wet. He gulps hard, his throat and lips suddenly dry as he stares at her most private region, his eyes wide and trying to focus.

He lifts his hand, his fingertips gripping the edge of the window as he realizes that if he even attempts to touch this woman he'd be charged with sexual assault so fast his head would spin more than it is at this moment.

When the officer receives no reply from Justin, she leans down over his window with her elbows propped up on the edge as she shines the flashlight inside the car.

Justin gasps and shifts away as he hiccups lightly, his blues coming into contact with a head of full long raven hair, and a pair of perky, full, supple breasts squeezed together in that uniform she's wearing, fully covered, but you can't hide the shape of those things...

He can't see her face clearly, the light blinding his already blurred vision.

"Could you...not shine that thing in my face?" Justin asks feebly and the officer frowns as she takes in the sight of him.

She inhales deeply, crinkling her nose in disgust as she does so.  He and his car reek of alcohol.

Immediately, she knows what she's dealing with.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you for your license and registration please. Also, step out of the vehicle sir."

"What?" Justin's eyes go wide with shock but before he can protest, the officer moves back and roots his door open for him to get out.

"Now sir." She growls firmly and Justin sighs, moving to dig in his glove compartment for his registration before he roots out his license from his wallet in his pocket.

Seconds later, he's out of his ride, tripping over his feet while handing the officer his information as he looks away and ahead at the dark road in front of him. "Look, if you'd let me off with a warning this time, I promise it won't happen again. I just..." Justin drifts, slumping against his ride to support his weight. He knows that if he even attempts to move, he'll maybe fall forward flat on his face. Balance is not his friend right now.

"That's too bad sir, but I'm going to have to write you up with a DUI and take you in since you can't drive under these conditions." The officer speaks up, looking over his license with a smirk. "Justin Timberlake." She stresses his name.

At the mention of his name, Justin snaps his head towards the shorter woman standing at his side with a light frown on his face. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus because all he can really see is the outlining of her features with her cop car lights his only source of illumination since she switched off her flashlight and they're towards the back of his ride.

"I'm sorry am I missing something?" Justin questions, moving to take a step towards her but he trips over his feet since the road looks higher than normal in his blurry vision.

The officer catches him in time, her hands resting firmly on his chest so he won't fall forward, the physical contact warming Justin's insides as goose bumps form on his skin. "You are in so much trouble." She growls lowly and Justin immediately caves.

"Shit, I can't go to jail. Don't take me to jail please. My girl will kill me if..." But he's cut short.

"You bet your ass she'll murder you dead you idiot."

And just like that Justin's breathing cuts off as he stumbles back in shock, the warm southern accent the female officer possessed just minutes ago now gone.

"I don't know what the fuck you were thinking Justin but I swear..." And he tunes her out, his eyes widening as he glares at her though she's still a bit fuzzy.

He knows that voice. He knows that voice all too well. His vision may be impaired but his hearing is perfectly fine.

He knew there was something familiar about this, about her...about why he was drawn to her. But in his drunken haze, shit, he could be hallucinating for all he knows.

He's maybe in some hospital bed knocked unconscious for causing a major accident and this is a dream. Or worse, he's dead and this is hell!

"I...I'm sorry?" He shrugs helplessly, trying to stay focused.

"Goddamn it Justin! Look at you! You drunk bastard. You can't even make heads or tails of anything can you? You can't even make me out.  You can't even make out your own girlfriend!? Ugh! I can't even believe...I'm going to kill Trace for letting you drive like this...and you when I get you sober. I should lock your ass in a jail cell for the night to teach you a lesson. I can't even believe...what possessed you to drive in this condition? Were you trying to get yourself and other people killed? Suicide attempt maybe?"

It's funny how he knows she's talking, can see her hands flailing but he can barely understand much of what she's saying since he's mastered the art of tuning her out when she gets worked up like this. All he's focused on is the fact that maybe he shouldn't have picked a cop for his girlfriend after all.

Sure, he met her under similar situations a few years ago. He was speeding, trying to get to a studio recording session he was late for and she stopped him and wrote him a ticket. Still, maybe he should have reconsidered dating her. Sure, she was gorgeous, still is, but the hard ass cop in her was alive and well even when she was off duty. Not that he doesn't love her, because he does. But getting away with anything even remotely close to breaking some type of law is a big no-no.

"T...Tara?" Justin stutters, finally calling her name, watching in awe. "Baby why are you out in the middle of nowhere?" Justin questions, giving her a lopsided grin.

"Oh, now you know me? And you didn't hear a word I just said did you?"  She asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Slowly, he shakes his head. "No, and you disguised your voice." He counters in a slur and she huffs, taking in his poor posture and swaying form. She's almost certain that he'll drop unto the hard cold street unconscious at any moment.

"Justin, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I was coming home to my amazing girlfriend." He drawls and Tara scoffs at that.

"You know, when one of my buddies from the police department spotted you and Trace leaving the club all hyped up and loud with your little group of friends, he did right to call me to check up on you." Tara explains, causing Justin to scowl.

"You were spying on me? Naughty girl." Justin chuckles while pointing at her, swaying back on his heels.

Shaking her head sadly, Tara gazes at her boyfriend in partial pity and anger. What possessed her to ever give him a chance still eludes her to this day. She knew what she was getting herself into all those years ago with this pop star celebrity but she couldn't help herself. The guy had game and charm that melted even her, one of the toughest female officers in her department.

When they first met and she stopped him for speeding, he almost talked his way out of the ticket. Almost. Of course, the fact that it didn't work must have intrigued him since he figured even if she was a cop, she was still female and therefore should have fallen under his spell immediately. Huh, well, four years later, she's still questioning her sanity with this one.

Justin, right now, is her weakness.  He can be her strength at times, but right now, he's the opposite considering she should take him into the station, but she knows she's not going to. She knows she's going to go against the book because this isn't her just doing her job. This is personal. This is her idiot boyfriend being a dumbass.

"Come on Justin, let's go." Tara whispers, gripping his arm to pull him towards her.

He stumbles forward a bit before slinging his large arm over her shoulders to keep his balance.

"How did you find me?" He asks.

"I tracked your GPS and followed you for a bit to make sure you were ok. When I saw you swerving, I had a feeling you were drunk. Decided to pull you over and fake the accent to see just how gone you were. You didn't even recognize me. Ugh, come on Justin. We're going home." She growls, pulling him towards her squad car.

"Wait, what about my ride?" He says lamely, trying to turn around to look at his car.

"Leave it. I'll call to have it towed when we get home."

"But..."

"Move your ass Justin or I will change my mind and throw you behind bars I swear!" Tara snaps and he shuts up immediately.

"Ok." Is the only reply she's met with as she helps him into the passenger seat of her car before she hops in the driver's side and pulls out of her parking spot and back onto the highway heading for home.