Tango Golf, Cop with a Difference!  

    ã2004 Tanya J. Allan


This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.  Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone.  Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

Certain places really exist, and many are fictitious. The author claims author’s licence in creating a story that is as realistic as possible, without impinging on the realities of certain places and their inhabitants.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone.  If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.


This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia.  If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.

Unfortunately no politicians, lawyers or parking attendants were injured or killed in the writing of this story, and no one else was either.


If you enjoyed it, then please Email me and tell me.  If you hated it, Email me and lie.

I will always welcome contact.




The legal stuff.

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically.  Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose.  Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.



Sheridan is a young man with a burning desire to look and behave like a girl.  At eleven this is a real problem for him.

He has three burning ambitions, to be a woman, to be a cop like his Dad, and to be a mother.

His parents admit they have no answers, and turn to the medical people for help.

They find that Sheridan is full of surprises.

Will he achieve his ambitions?

Read on………………………….


 “Tango – Golf”

Cop with a difference




Tanya Jane Allan

Prologue.  1996




The red Mazda MX5 shot past me, and the radar showed it was doing 110 mph.  I carefully slid the top onto my coffee cup, and put it back in the rack, and illuminated the roof-bar lights and switched on the sirens.

I eased the cruiser out from behind the trees and onto the highway.  I eased the car up to 150 mph, the v12 engine throbbing vibrantly as I watched the red speck in the distance get larger.

Using the hands free mike, I called in to dispatch and told Bobbi what I was doing and asked if another unit was in the vicinity as back-up.

“That’s a negative Charlie One Five, all other units are committed, sorry Sherri, you’re on your own!” she said.

“Copied, tell me somethin’ new. Pass it through to County, so the Sheriff’s department know I have a pursuit again,” I said, and I heard her chuckle as she acknowledged.

I thought for a moment the Mazda would go for it, but I saw the red brake lights come on, and it reduced speed rapidly. The right, nearside indicator flashed at me, and I was prepared for anything.  I knew that nothing was certain until they were stopped and the keys were out of the ignition.

I pulled in behind as it came to a halt.  I passed the details through to dispatch and asked for all the checks to be done.  It had out of State plates, from California, so I asked for their State records to be checked too.

It was a mild April day, and the top was down on the Mazda. I could see two heads.  Both seemed female on first sight, and I smiled.  I got out of the car, and took the safety strap off my Glock.

I put on my hat, adjusted my Raybans, and walked slowly towards the driver’s side, one hand on the handgrip of my Glock.

I looked down. I noted that the driver was an attractive young woman and her blouse had several buttons undone. Her ample cleavage was there for the world to see. She was wearing a short skirt, which had ridden up to just short of the panties.  Assuming she was wearing any, of course.    I smiled again, as my cleavage would be a little more ample than hers, if it wasn’t tightly buttoned up in my khaki police shirt.

The passenger turned out to be a young man with long hair, he was younger than her, say about twenty, and he looked up and saw me first.  He smiled slightly, shook his head and looked away.  I had some affect on most men!

Being tall, blonde and having an hour glass figure was a bonus in most walks of life, and as a cop, it was no different.

“Good morning ma’am. You may do up them buttons, I am not that way inclined,” I said. On hearing my female voice she looked up sharply and her face fell.  I once stopped a well-known actress and her agent, and the agent wanted to sign me up on the spot.

“Your vehicle went through a radar speed trap doing one-ten miles per hour.  That is an offence in this State.  Driver’s licence and registration, please.”

She was shaking now, and she passed up the relevant paperwork.

“Okay, one minute, as I write the ticket.  Pass me the car keys please, that way I’ll know you won’t go anywhere,” I said, took her keys and returned to my car.

I sat and wrote her the ticket, and all the checks came back negative. I looked at the couple, they were in heated debate about something, and the girl was sure upset I wasn’t a male officer.  I got a real buzz out of doing that.  The girlies all thought they could flash their boobs and legs, and the macho cop would smile and let them off.  They didn’t like a female cop one little bit.

She was my fifth ticket so far today.  It was a real cheat, because the highway was open, long and straight.  The traffic was light, and it was an open invitation to put that right foot to the floor.  However, there was always a chance I would catch a good felon coming through in a stolen car, or with stolen property on board, so I used the radar as an excuse to stop vehicles.

I walked back to the car, and noticed a pack of extra-long cigarette papers lying on the floor at the young man’s feet.

I had the woman sign, and issued her with the ticket and gave her payment instructions.

“Okay, one last thing.  I have reason to believe that there are some illegal drugs in this car, now do you want to hand them over now, or do I have to detain you and take you to the police station for a full strip search?”

Both of them stared at me in some horror, and then the young man went rather pale.

“This is ridiculous!” the woman said. I noticed she seemed extra nervous and edgy.  My hackles rose, something wasn’t quite right.

“Ma’am, do you smoke cigarettes?” I asked.

“No, why?”

“Do you sir?”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess.”

“What brand?”

“Uh, Marlboro.”

“You don’t roll your own?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“Then the cigarette papers by your feet don’t belong to you?”

Both looked down and saw the offending papers.

“Kyle?” said the woman.

I took one step back, and spoke into my radio hand piece. My right hand was still on my gun.

“This is Charlie One Five.  I have two for possession.  Roll me a back up to the Meridian Road, four miles east of the Town line.”

“Wait!” said the woman.

“I’m still here, ma’am.”

She turned to her companion.

“Kyle, you promised!”

“Hey, what’s the big deal?  Its only some blow.”

“Step out of the car, sir,” I said.

“Hey lady, look, this is unnecessary.”

“Sir, I’m not going to ask nicely again. Step out of the car, do it now!”

He got out of the car, and I walked him back to my cruiser.  I patted him down, just to make sure he wasn’t carrying.  I stood talking to him by the front of my car.

“Okay, now you realise just how big a deal this really is, how about you tell me where the stuff is?”

Standing right next to the police car seemed to bring home to him the reality of the situation.

“In the trunk, in my backpack.”

“Okay, come show me.”

I opened the trunk.  He went for the pack, a little too eagerly for my ease.

“Step back, please.  I’ll open it.”

“No, its okay,” he said.

I took a step back, drawing the Glock.

“Stop.  Both hands where I can see them.  Right now!” I said, pointing my handgun at the centre of his back.

He stopped, and I could tell he had his hands on something he shouldn’t.

“You have a choice.  Bring both hands out clean, or make a twitch I don’t like and I will shoot you,” I said.  The woman was still in the car and I could see her hands clearly.

Another cruiser pulled up behind mine.

I saw the guy’s eyes flick over my shoulder, and then he slowly brought out his hands.  They were empty.

“Step back!” I said.

A uniformed deputy walked passed me, and Officer Steve Redman cuffed the guy.

“Thanks Steve.”

“No problem, Sherri.  I heard your call, and was in the neighbourhood.”

I opened the pack and found a handgun and a large bag of herbal cannabis.  There was a small bag of white powder tucked into a trainer.

“Okay, you are under arrest for possession of cannabis, and I guess this could be coke.  Also possession of a concealed weapon, Steve, read him his rights, there’s a honey?”

“Sure, Babes.  Okay you, listen up.  You have the right….”

Steve took the man off to his cruiser.  I walked round to the side of the Mazda. I still had my gun out. The woman stared at it, and looked edgy.

“Step out ma’am,” I said, and she did so.

“Officer, I can explain.  He is the son of a friend, and I am giving him a lift back to college.”

She was shorter than me, about 5’7”, even with the heels.

“Okay, now this had better be good.”

She poured out a tale of woe, and it sounded reasonable, but then it would, and I didn’t buy it.

“Okay. Assume for a minute that I buy your story.  What did Kyle promise you?”

She stared at me, blinking several times.


“Your purse, let me see it, please.”

She passed it over, and I looked through it.  Steve returned, having deposited the unfortunate Kyle in the back of his car.  There was nothing out of the ordinary in her purse, and Steve searched the glove box, and under the seats.

“Well, well, lookie here!” he said, pulling out a snub nosed revolver from under the driver’s seat.

“I have a permit.  It is for protection.”

“In California, maybe, but in Oregon?  I think not,” I said. “Until I know otherwise, you are under arrest for a concealed weapon, and concerned with the possession and possible supply of narcotics.”

 I read her rights, and she was cuffed and placed in my car.  I called up for the tow truck, and Jake arrived twenty minutes later.

Darn.  My coffee was cold!

I followed Steve back to the station in Freetown, just north of Roseburg, and booked both my suspects in. Steve took in the male, and waved as he headed back out to his patch.

I did a little digging and found the car was stolen from L.A. and was on false plates.  The names they had given me were both false, and there was a warrant out for the woman, for jumping bail.

I was filing my report and the Sergeant came over.

“Good work Sherri.  Neat little job.  Even after only a few months, you have a nose for these.”

“Thanks Lou.  I thought I was sloppy.  I got lucky, and I learned a lot.  But it is good to get something from nothing. Had she kept to the speed limit, she would be outside the county by now.”

“That’s my girl.  Your Dad is sure going to be proud of you.”

I smiled. Lou was not only my Sergeant; he was also my uncle, as he was my Dad’s younger brother.

I had always wanted to be a cop, and it was real good to have achieved one of my ambitions.  As a young child I had formed three ambitions, and I had managed two so far.  But it hadn’t been easy, as one of the other ambitions was to be a woman.  Not hard, you say, to be a female cop.

It is very hard when you are born male.  Believe me, it was the hardest thing in the world. 

Then my third ambition was to be a mother.  I thought being a girl was hard.