Well, one or two squad cars are on the way...

The whole time Chris kept crying, the blonde never let him go. People came to talk to them only to be shooed away, but Chris didn't even process what they were saying. His mind was a whirl - why was he even crying? Nothing had really happened, and guys didn't cry, yet he found himself unable to stop. And Chris wasn't really much of a guy anymore, was he? The surfer looked like a girl, he sounded like a girl, and he constantly found himself on his knees sucking cock. That train of thought definitely didn't help, throwing Chris deeper into despair as he clung to the blonde.

After who knew how long, the surfer's tears finally dried up, only sniffles rising from Chris' throat. He felt simultaneously empty, tired and somehow cleansed, as if he'd unloaded a lot of pent-up feelings together with his tears. Head nestled between the blonde's prodigious breasts, Chris just breathed in and out, barely registering how wet they were from his tears.

"How are you feeling?" The blonde whispered after a while, and Chris' mind seemed to open back up, processing his surroundings once again.

Through the bamboo-stick front walls of the bar, blue and red light flashed in rhythmic patterns. Shawn and his flunkies were gone, the amazon was sitting at the counter together with Günther and his wife, nursing a beer and her eye, the latter with an ice pack. Some distance away from Chris and the blonde, a beat cop was hovering around, eyeing the pair as if he was unsure if he could approach.

"T-Terrible," Chris hiccuped, voice hoarse from crying. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep. Preferably forever. "I wanna go ho--*hic*"

Home. Where Steve and his gargantuan, magnificent, delicious cock was waiting. It seemed like a marvelous idea - and a terrible one. Chris couldn't suppress a shiver; but if it was a fear- or lustful one, the surfer couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry, miss, but before we can let you go, we will have to take your statement," the cop interjected before the blonde could answer. Bleary-eyed, the surfer looked over at the approaching police officer, involuntary shrinking away a little from the muscular man.

"Really? Can't you just take the ones of everyone else?" The voluptuous blonde hugged Chris closer, turning a little to shield him from the cop. "Don't you see she's in no state to be questioned?"

"I'm sorry, I have to comply with regulations." He didn't sound all that sorry, a least not to Chris. "Now, miss, I'm Officer Irons. Could you answer a few questions and tell me what happened?"

"I... I don't know," Chris replied shakily. Despite a few escapades in his youth, he'd never had any contact with the police and was now unsure what to do.

"It would really be for the best to do it now, when the memory is fresh," Irons insisted. Said fresh memory made Chris whimper.

"Okay, no." Chris' savior once again came to the rescue, putting herself between the pushy police man and Chris. "She'll have to come in once she feels better. Didn't you get enough from the rest of us to lock those jerks up for a while?!"

Irons pulled a face; it was pretty clear that he'd rather get this over with right now, Chris' feelings be damned. But he quickly wilted under the blonde's stare and finally relented.

"Oh, fine... Miss, do you have ID on you, and a number we can reach you with?"

"I... I, uhm, no?" Panic began to creep up on Chris again - he did have ID, but with his old face and a decidedly masculine name. What would happen if they found that on him?! "I can just, uh... My name is Chris... -tine O'Donnell, and you can contact me here..."

Barely able to think, Chris was almost acting on auto pilot, taking out his phone and holding it out so Irons could jot down the device's number, giving the surfer a weird look afterwards, somewhere between mistrust and annoyance.

"Oh well... thank you, Miss O'Donell," he finally said, putting away his notepad. "Just be aware that you will have your ID on you should you want to press charges. We can't bring him to justice if you're unwilling to talk."

"I just about had enough of your behavior." There was an impressive amount of vitriol in the blonde's voice. "You have everything you need, now leave. Please. Unless you want me to put in a formal complaint."

"Relax, Ma'am, I'm just doing my job!" Both hands raised defensively, Irons finally turned around and left, leaving behind a shaking Chris and a furious blonde.

"The nerve of that guy!" She fumed before turning back to Chris, her face instantly softening. A face that Chris finally recognized now that the situation had calmed down and he could see it from up close - it was one of the girls from the beach, the one that hadn't fucked his throat!