Guy Gets hit by Cop car
A Crazed Lunatic weilding a knife tries to attack a police car. When another one arrives on scene, the man runs at it and the dashboard camera ...
Fic: More Than Kin and Less Than Kind
Five minutes later, with her father stumbling after the liquor bottle in the living room, Tara quietly padded across the hall. The kitchen gleamed white and empty, the refrigerator humming. Tara swallowed hard and dropped her backpack in the corner. Then she pushed a stool all the way across the floor, scraping the tile, til it hit the wall. She climbed up, pulled the phone off the receiver, and dialed the familiar number. Tara stepped out of her dad's car and slammed the door, dropping the keys in her coat pocket and taking the first few quick steps across the parking lot, boots crunching in the loose gravel. The cold hit her like a knife to the lungs and she powered through it, every breath stinging. She jogged right past the figure slumped on the stairs, but the flash of black leather caught her eye and she slowed, then turned back. Jax was perched on the concrete front steps of St. Thomas with his knees draw up, shoulders hunched, and his chin low. He looked so small, so unlike his usual gangly swaggery self, that Tara paused for a long moment before quietly coming down one step, then two. Her sneakers made next to no noise as she sat down beside him, hip nearly brushing his. Jax held the familiar top rocker in his hands, his thumb running across the TELLER patch just above the one that read PRESIDENT. Dried blood flaked off the leather under his hands. Tara wrapped both her arms around his near one and held on tight. His bicep tensed. She could feel it even through his jacket and the layers underneath. She hesitated for a painfully awkward second, then tilted her head a couple of inches and hid a kiss in the shaggy hair just above his ear. It felt illicit and sneaky and a little weird on the one hand, and utterly right on the other. David and Tara were friends in kindergarten, before Tara's mom started wanting to blow her own brains out. In those days, it had been perfectly acceptable to build block castles with Jackson Teller in Mrs. Abernathy's class, but Tara...