The police car was resting quietly by the side of the road at the corner of a lifeless intersection. A map light flickered on for an instant as one of it's two occupants peered into a small white bag. The outside of it was beginning to stain clear as he reached in and rummaged through it's greasy, fried contents. He pulled out a frosted donut with sprinkles and displayed it triumphantly to his partner who just shook her head in disgust and sipped her cooling hot chocolate. She squinted into the darkness, too vain to put on her glasses, and saw something slowly coming up the road to one side.

  It was a bicyclist crossing in front of them. She looked at the late time on the clock and then tapped her partner's shoulder as she pointed out the window. He looked at the cyclist for a few seconds, then back at his donut, then shrugged and held up the bag again. She just rolled her eyes as the cyclist passed ahead.

  He was singing to himself with each push of his legs, keeping rhythm with his tune.

  "There she goes...," he took a deep breath and pedaled again, "there she goes again. Chasing down my lane." He loved that song, and the fact that musical artists kept redoing it didn't hurt either. "And I just can't contain, this feeling that remains."

  He pedaled for a few more blocks and then stopped, looking in both directions. He reached for his water bottle and squeezed about half of a pint into his mouth before swallowing. Sweat had matted his long brown hair against his head under his helmet and it was starting to itch. He stretched out his arms and then scratched a small scar on one of his cheeks while he spoke aloud to nobody in particular.

  "I can't believe how late it is. I must be nuts." He put his water bottle back in it's cage and yawned. "North, that's where I want to go. What I'm looking for, I'll find her up north."

  He closed his eyes and listened, he heard the faint sound of the ocean off in the distance and looked down the crossing street. Setting his feet back on his pedals, he turned and began to make the slow grind uphill. The sidewalk eventually gave way to a gravel walkway, the drainage ditch along it was still muddy with rain from days ago.

  "I should rent a car; maybe a jeep."

  The road began to brighten as car approached him from behind. He stopped pedaling and pulled farther to the side. One couldn't be too careful with the number of drunk drivers on late nights. The car swerved slightly; it was a dark and an older model by the sound of the engine. There were two people in it and it looked as if the driver was more intent on his passenger than his own driving. The lights swerved and covered him for a second, then moved back to the road. Regardless, the bicyclist watched as the vehicle drifted towards the gravel walkway.

  "Oh dear."

  The car hit a pothole and jerked to the right. It only grazed the bicyclist, but it was enough to send him spinning. He hit the ground and skidded for a number of yards before coming to a halt on the edge of the ditch. He tried to lift his arm, but the shift in weight sent him over the side. He landed face down in a rivulet of mud and sent spray in every direction. A few bubbles surfaced in the thick muck. He raised his head, let a few drops of mud fall off of his thin goatee, and passed out with a dull splat.

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  Sara opened her eyes, Shawn was fixing the rearview mirror; apparently it was too low. She looked out the window.

  "Did we hit something?"

  "I don't think so. How are you feeling?"

  "Mmm, it's so nice and warm in here. I'm really comfortable."

  "Excellent, we're almost at you're apartment. You should get yourself ready." Shawn turned the corner and stole another look at his date's legs. They were long and gorgeous. Sara slid one cute foot along the curve of her left calve and settled back into her seat, pulling the tight hem of her black dress slightly lower. He was pleased to watch it slide back up.

  A passing street lamp brought his attention back to the road. He turned another corner and began to look through buildings and addresses. He saw Sara's apartment complex, smiled, and pulled into an open spot.

  As he stepped out of his car, Shawn twirled his key ring around his middle finger. There weren't any people wandering the sidewalks and he took slight comfort in that fact. He pulled a small tube of breath freshener out of his pocket and swallowed a few stinging sprays. He ran a hand through his light brown hair and walked over to the passenger side.

  Sara smiled up at him warmly at the sound of the door opening. He offered her his arm as he had done so many times before. She picked up her heels and stepped out, slowly rose from the car and staggering slightly.

  Shawn sighed a sigh of minor awe; he loved tall women and she was at the upper end of the scale. She wasn't as thin as he usually liked, he normally liked the anorexic and docile look that the scrawnier models tended to sport and Sara looked like she worked out regularly. But she would do for the evening.

  She started forward, holding on to what she could as she walked. Shawn looked down and saw that perky rear of her's bob up and down with each step inside her, oh-so tight, black dress.

  Oh yes, she will do for the evening.

  They walked up the steps to her door and Sara tripped, beginning to fall backward. Shawn brought up both hands and grabbed a shoulder and put the other one on one firm cheek to help steady her. He then helped himself to a light squeeze. She was too startled and inebriated to notice.

  "Thank you Shawn, I guess the ground is a little slippery. I should be more careful." She reached into her purse and rummaged for her keys as she approached the complex front door. He joined her on the building porch and scanned her from head to toe.

  This is it Shawny boy, time to pork her blue.

  He licked his lips as he watched her fish through her bag.

  "Sara, maybe I should help you inside. You don't look well, I'm concerned about you." He nodded politely with a wry smile.

  "Oh, that's so sweet! Sure you can come inside, I could use the help. Here are my ... ooo." As Sara pulled her keys free of her purse, her head began to spin and her surroundings began to blur. She dropped her keys and they clanged to the ground near her bare feet. She grabbed hold of the railing and moaned softly as if trying to shake a headache. Shawn immediately stepped in to comfort her.

  "Careful there, don't worry I got you." His smile broadened as he moved his arms up and wrapped his hands around her chest, for support. "You could have taken another nasty spill there Sara, lucky for you I was ... uh." He had set her back up and took a step backward, unsure of what was happening. Her breathing had become shallow and he was worried that he had fed her too much wine.

  The dress, which was already extremely form-fitting, seemed to be shrinking on Sara's body. While her hose remained the same the hem of her dress was sliding up her thighs, exposing more luscious flesh. One of the sleeves began to groan and he looked up to witness the stitching around her arm begin to pull apart. Her tan skin peeked through the new holes as her bicep began to bulge through the fabric. Her already huge breasts swelled and pushed upwards; there was a loud pop and they fell forward, still straining the material. Shawn saw that the sides of the dress had given way to accommodate her growing body, she apparently was not wearing a bra. The damaged sleeve had completely torn in two pieces and her toned arm flexed periodically as Sara continued to moan in delirium. She spun around.

  The back of her dress stretched out as her hips widened; the stitching began to give way there as well until Sara bent her back to gain a better hold on the rail and the flimsy threads gave way with a loud tear. The white lace underwear and garter that was holding up her hose was flossing her firm posterior as the dress continued to split open upwards along her back. And then she appeared to stop growing, though Shawn could still hear an occasional ripping sound. Sara straightened up and turned back around. Shawn stared in astonishment.

  She had grown a good three inches right before his eyes. She was almost as tall as Drake and he stood speechless, his jaw trembling in anxiety. Sara was smiling at him though nothing had happened. The front of her dress had torn slightly, where the sides had not given, allowing her cleavage to bulge further forth. The incredibly perky mounds jiggled slightly as she staggered in her drunken stupor.

  "I think I had a little too much to drink."

  Shawn just blinked. He knew he still wanted to ride her; but he wasn't entirely sure what had happened, or how to proceed. He was about to suggest that they go inside quickly when she looked down.

  "Oops! I've dropped my keys." Sara bent over to pick them up; as she did she arched her back slightly and the front of her dress sundered under the massive weight. The heavy mounds spilled out and sent black fabric falling to her sides. Shawn's mouth fell open and his body went slack.

  Sara stood back up and felt the back of her head strike something. She thought she heard a loud popping and she brought up her hand to rub her hair. The back of her hand connected with something solid and the sound of metal crashing together rang out. The fuzzy surroundings clarified and she found that Shawn had left. She shrugged, causing her other shoulder to tear through the black fabric, and unlocked the door. She stepped into the hallway, closed the door behind her, and slowly walked to her apartment.

  Behind the steps, bruised and bleeding from his lip, Shawn picked himself out of the garbage can he had fallen into. Coffee grounds and pizza cheese dripped off of his sport jacket. A flat soft drink was spilling into his left shoe and a carton of old eggs had cracked into his hair. He stood up and warm yolks oozed over his face and into his eyes. Shawn felt his jaw, it was tender from where Sara had hit him with her head and he thought she had knocked out a permanent tooth. The backhanded slap sent him over the side railing and flat on his ass. His head spun lightly. He heard the soft sound of shoes clapping towards him.

  Two friends were walking along the sidewalk. Their laughing stopped when they saw him. One of them looked him up and down, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few one dollar bills. He stuck them in Shawn's breast pocket, wiped off some pizza sauce on a clean spot on Shawn's pants, and continued to walk on his merry way.

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