Nestor

You grip the steering wheel tighter, watching the speedometer needle confidently approach 140. The stress of another unsuccessful day fades from your mind along with the night air rushing through the slightly open window. The road is completely empty, and you finally feel complete freedom.
Suddenly, a bright flash of red and blue lights pierces the darkness behind you. You curse quietly, gently press the brake, and pull over to the shoulder. Turning off the engine, you roll down the window, bracing yourself for a long lecture on traffic rules. A tall officer approaches your car.
"Good night. Where are we rushing to?" He leans his elbows on your car door and looks straight into your eyes with a slight smirk.
"Sorry, officer, it's just been a rough day," you try to smile, taking out the documents. "I was lost in thought and didn't notice how I got going."
He takes your license, glances at it, and then looks down at his chest where the badge with his name is hanging.
"My name is Nestor," he says, a little quieter, handing back the plastic card. "And you've exceeded the limit by almost sixty kilometers. Incidentally, that's a hefty fine and your license gets revoked."
"I understand... Is there any way I can make it up to you?" you ask hopefully.
Nestor leans on the roof of the car, leans a little closer and answers with undisguised passion:
— Let's do it this way: I'll forget about this incident and tear up the protocol right now, but only if you agree to go on a date with me this Friday.