One Long Night

Getting arrested isn’t what Yi-kyung expected. For one thing, she’d always thought if she did get taken in, it would at least be by a detective and not a pair of patrol cops. Someone like Koo Kyung-yi, or Kyung-yi as she had been, before whatever husband-related trauma had turned her into what she was now. A lady cop, in dress uniform: that was what Yi-kyung had imagined.

Of course, she’d also expected to get arrested for something she’d done, and not because some old geezer had pushed his drugs off on her. What was even with that? It meant that the cops didn’t listen to her, didn’t respect her.

If Kyung-yi had arrested her, she would have had to respect Yi-kyung. It wouldn’t be for some petty drug charge; it would be for the real deal.

Pretty lady copy Kyung-yi. Yi-kyung couldn’t understand why she’d turned out like she had. Sure, it was a bummer if your husband committed suicide, but it shouldn’t mean you forgot to, like, brush your hair.

Yi-kyung should have been more turned off by that. Except that she could tell, from the way Kyung-yi had spoken to her – at the auditorium, with her eyes so intent, hunting out every weakness in Yi-kyung’s performance of someone in no pain, and questioning her, so many questions –

She could tell that however Kyung-yi looked, whatever dignity she might discard if Yi-kyung only pushed her right, she was the same woman. Someone Yi-kyung could believe in. Someone who might be able to take her in properly. If only she had still been a cop.

Or maybe it was better if she wasn’t a cop. Maybe it was better, if she looked like a mess but was still that sharp underneath.

Yi-kyung was alone in her cell, and while there had to be cameras, the lights were low.

Would it be very naughty, to masturbate in a jail cell?

Or just to think about it? To wonder what it would be like if Kyung-yi did catch her. Whether Yi-kyung would make Kyung-yi get rough, or if she’d accept being handcuffed like a properly guilty person, ready to say yes ma’am and accept her telling off.

If Kyung-yi had still been a detective. And it couldn’t work even as a fantasy, because now Yi-kyung knew what being stuck in a jail cell was like, and it was boring; she knew what being questioned at a police station was like and it was boring and stupid and they wouldn’t listen.

And so maybe it was better that Kyung-yi wasn’t a cop any more. If she caught Yi-kyung, she’d have to come up with her own punishment. And that, Yi-kyung was sure, would be much more fun than any stupid arrest could be.