On my drive in to work today I passed by an accident. It didn't look too serious, but it was obviously serious enough to warrant the police. Imagine my surprise, though, when I glanced over and found myself staring at Davidson. Squee, I think, it having been some months (May, actually) since I last saw my boys. It took me a few minutes to locate Jones, but he was there too (leaning into one of the cars while Davidson directed traffic around the mess). They weren't interacting, but they were together, so that made me happy.

It's probably sad that that is the most exciting thing to happen to me all week --exciting enough that I'm actually posting! Truth be told, I've been feeling rather anti-social this week. I'd forgotten how consuming the life of a bookworm was. Having finished the trilogy (and maybe now I can stop reading L/G slash), I decided to move on to Anne of Green Gables (and this is totally mardia's fault for writing AGG fic). Mostly, though, I want to re-read the story before Mole and I head out to PEI (in the spring) because then I can visit Green Gables and be fanish about it (the last time I was on the island I was mostly interested in finding the house I lived in as a small child).

I'm also working on my decoding for Lady Frances Carfax. The story is driving me nuts because it doesn't fit within my chronology. I'm starting to think it's a fake (much like The Mazarin Stone). Then, in my Sherlockian Studies, I'm reading (or attempting to read) Sherlock's Men: Masculinity, Conan Doyle, and Cultural History. It is not nearly as interesting as one might expect. In fact, at best I can read two pages a day before getting frustrated/bored/irate and tossing the book back onto my nightstand.

None of this is conducive to livejournal and socialization. Hell, I can barely string sentences together (as evident by this entry). Mostly I just want to grunt out affirmations while curled up on my couch, surrounded by my books. With a cup of tea, of course, because we're not completely uncivilized.

Dude!  Rick Mercer was in KW for Oktoberfest and no one told me!  Ah.  And.  And.  I was watching the repeat of Tuesday's show, and they showed the parade, and the cops, clearing traffic!  They're my slashy cops!

There's video of it up, but the quality is so degraded and the image so small that you can't see in the car.  Still.  My slashy cops!  And they were on TV!  With Rick Mercer!

Videos -click on Oktoberfest with Chris Murphy.  The slashy cops appear at the 4:56 minute mark.  Also, if there are Sloan fans on my flist, apparently one of the guys was there too.

Seriously, people!  Slashy cops.  With Rick Mercer!  My life?  Complete.

::flails::

Okay, first I need to give you some background.  I live in a town house, which is inside a complex/compound thingy.  I have no idea what you'd call it.  But if you've ever seen a community of town house style condos, then you'll know what I'm talking about.  We don't have driveways, but rather communal parking areas.  These parking areas empty out into 'streets' which lead you in and out of the complex.  One of these 'streets' enters/exits onto Westmount, one of the city's main streets.

So I'd just gotten back from having breakfast with Mole's mom.  We said our goodbyes and I went inside briefly to change and pee before heading back out to go shopping for a birthday present for my father.  I leave my communal parking area, turn onto the complex 'street' and head toward the Westmount entrance/exit.  Sitting there, on the side of the entrance way, was a cop car.

So, naturally, I slowed (both out of curiosity and fear of being ticketed).  There's a cop sitting in the driver's side, staring out over Westmount, and when I glance to my left, I notice a cop standing on the side of the road with a radar gun.  I pull up so that I'm just behind the cruiser, and the cop with the radar gun glances over, and low and behold, it's Davidson1.  So I immediately glance back at the car and, yep.  Jones.

I haven't passed them yet, because I'm driving so slow I mineaswell be sixty.  I pull over to the side of the road, purposely glancing at the house next to me (and no, I have no idea who lives there), hoping that they'll assume I'm waiting for someone.  Davidson watches this before turning back toward Westmount, following a passing car with his radar gun before shaking his head.  At this point, I am literally twenty feet behind their cruiser, maybe thirty feet from Davidson.

And now, of course, I'm feeling like a stalker, because I'm still sitting there, watching, and I figure; shit, I should probably just go.  But.  But.  This is the exact moment that Jones decides to *lean* out his window and *call* Davidson over.  Davidson glances over his shoulder, *smirks* and then crosses over to the driver's side window.  He *leans* down and they start to *chat*, almost like they're both bored out of their mind and are passing the time by flirting socializing.

And, of course, the entire time they're 'socializing', Davidson is grinning (I can't actually make out Jones' features, so I have no idea if he's doing the same).  Jones obviously says something, though, because a second later Davidson laughs, shakes his head and starts heading back over to where he was standing.  He gets like an inch away when Jones *reaches* out the window and *wraps* his *hand* around Davidson's *arm*.  Davidson glances back over, nods at whatever it is that Jones says and then, when Jones lets go, it's with obvious reluctance.

I decide this is probably a good time to leave, so I start off again, casually glancing out my passenger side window as I pass by their cruiser.  Jones' is sitting in the driver's seat, staring out the window, looking directly *at* Davidson, and he's *smiling*.  I bite my lip to keep from squeeing at him, and turn onto Westmount.  As I glance into my rear view mirror, I notice that Davidson now has his radar gun pointed at me.  I can't really tell, but I think he looks amused, like maybe he knows exactly why I stopped.

Eeeeee!

1: you may briefly recall that I named my slashy cops based entirely on random guesses

OMG! OMG! OMG! Some days? My life just rocks.

That's right.

So, remember those slashy cops I talked about here, here and here (and shit did it take me a while to find these), this is the continuation of their story. (eta: they are all tagged now)

So I'm at the bank (trying to sort out wire transfer issues, because sometimes you have to do things in person if you want them done right) and there they were. Well, not at the bank, but at the gas station that is right next to the bank (and, I know, I had no idea cops filled up their cars at regular gas stations either).

This? ( Is the best part )

PS: I think I need a slashy cops icon, anyone feel up to making me one?

ETA: I forgot to mention, Pretty FBI Boys might be down for a bit today. My server is installing some new software and that may lead to interruptions. Just FYI.

Most of the time, I hate that I live in a small city. I hate the lack of things to do. I hate running into people I know *everywhere*. I hate having no choice on pretty much a day to day basis. And I hate having smile constantly. But, sometimes, living in a small city has it's advantages. Today is one of such days.

I first wrote about them here and then later, here, and once again it seems I am telling my story.

( why every girl should own a pair of slashy cops )

Girl outside the Dairy Queen: It has pecan sauce.  It's like crack, if crack were delicious and caramel flavoured.

She was like 12, tops.  It was so weird.

I am like the most productive person in the world today.  I gave blood.  I bought more boxes.  I bought a new shower curtain.  I renewed my prescriptions.  I confirmed my truck rental.  I updated my sites.  AND.  I washed a week's worth of dishes.  Go me.

My friend's list is filled with scary things.  Man, remind me never to live in the States.  That shit's whacked, yo.

I really can't pull off the homeboy thing, can I?

( a small story about pretty boys with guns )

So today two plain clothed RCMP officers show up looking for a fugitive. This, of course, is the highlight of my day because a) cops, b) hot cops and c) slashy cops.

That's right.

They were asking us some questions because they thought their guy might be hiding out in the apartments upstairs (that our company owns and rents out to drug addicts because we rock like that). Anyway. Every so often they'd glance over at each other and share this Look.

Yeah.

The Look.

The one Danny and Martin give each other when they're thinking about tearing each others' suits off and fucking against a wall.

I'm telling you, I melted.

But.

Oh, yes, it gets better.

They're on their way out the door and the one cop is on his cell phone. He covers the mouth piece, leans over and *whispers* in his partner's ear.

And there was shivering.

And slight eye closing.

And you have no idea how hard it was for me not to eeeee! at them.

OMG. So hot.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

That? The one perk my job still has.