Sunday Drive

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Don't own...anything.

This is the first in a series of vignettes I hope to write of scenes missing from the film and possibly from the life of Sands. I feel like writing some short stories about my favorite character. grin Light reading...Enjoy.

Sands quickly pulled his elbow back into the car as he came to a stop, the dust from the dirt road rising to make a fine layer of red film on the open window jamb as he waited. It would appear pretty suspicious to have three arms, he thought, so he hid his real one at his side, leaving the fake third arm where it was, hanging out the window with a spoon pointing to the sky. Probably should have removed that, he thought to himself. He pushed his dark stringy hair out of his face and tried to look bored. He could see the short stout Mexican police officer approaching in the side mirror of the car.

"Can I help you, officer? "He asked with a shark-like smile, he had hoped would appear friendly.

"Why you going down this road, Gringo?" The officer asked sharply, unapologetic of his ethnic slur.

"Ahhh….I have a friend, lives down this way."

The officer didn't look convinced as he glanced down the side of Sands black and red sports car. He was way, way, way off the beaten path and he knew it. In fact, he was surprised when he saw the police car behind him, but he knew how to fix this.

"I need your license and registration."

The officer started to walk down the side of the car as Sands fumbled around for his documentation. He hoped to hell that there wasn't any blood dripping from the trunk where he'd haphazardly shoved Belini's body a short time earlier. He grabbed the documents out of the glovebox, keeping an eye on the officer in the mirror the entire time. He loosened his gun in it's holster with his hidden left hand, but he didn't want to shoot the officer. That would mean another body to dispose of and a possible investigation. Nobody would miss Belini, but someone would come looking for this cop and he didn't want his favorite dumping ground to be found out. There were too many bodies there, bodies that pointed directly back to him.

The officer made his way around the other side of the car and back to his open window. Sands reached over with his right hand and gave the officer his license, registration and $200 cash. He knew how these Mexican police worked. Money talked. A grin flashed across the Mexican's face, putting wrinkles in it's tanned surface.

"Everything appears to be in order, Senor. Have a nice day."

The license and registration were handed back, less the cash and the officer meandered back to his car slowly. Sands smirked, put his car back into drive, took a puff of his almost spent cigarette, and steered the car back onto the road.