WHO: Max Boehman and Winona Foster. WHAT: Normally two people don't run into each other at 2am when they're not of the devious sort. But it does happen. WHEN: Around 2am on Monday. WHERE: Near Winona's office at Stanford. RATING: G. As dangerous as a padded wifflebat made out of feathers. STATUS: Ongoing.
Contrary to most of his fellow officers, Max actually liked working the graveyard shift at the university. It wasn't just about the overly hyped break up of parties and yanking a drunk student away from trying to piss on one of the landmarks on campus. It was the odd hours, the still of the early morning hours randomly punctuated by activity followed by watching the sun rise that he enjoyed more than anything else.
Tonight, as it always was, was no exception. He had gotten word on his two-way that someone was attempting to enter one of the buildings, possibly a break-in. He didn't hesitate to respond that he was the nearest officer and made his way over there. The intruder would find a man pressed in uniform and completely squared away, his cartoon salmon socks hidden, his smile polite. It was only after seeing said intruder that his smile intensified into pure geniality. A staff member, probably faculty he'd seen more than once on campus. What mattered to him was how incredibly pretty she happened to be. Never failed to turn him on his head.
Changing tactics, he approached the woman. "Awfully late isn't it? Sorry, we were called out about an intruder though I'd wager you're not dangerous. I'm officer Boehman, can I help you?" A genuine smile was added for affect.