edgeofyourseat | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's late at night in LA and Laney is up to no good, as usual.

He hasn't tried hooking again since the latest disaster; first he wants to see if stealing will work any better. So he found himself a nice deserted toy store, picked the lock, and opened the cash register with a crowbar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yep.

"What's in this for you?" he asks as he gets the door open.

She might have made him put it all back (and, regrettably, not in the fun way), but no force on Earth is going to make him sort the damn bills again. He just leaves them in a heap on top of the wrecked cash register.

"What does it matter?"

Shrugging, he turns away.

"It doesn't, I guess."

"Hmp."

She's eying him closely, wondering whether she needs to search him--

When the pager in one of her pouches lets out one, almost silent vibration, and she straightens up abruptly.

He glances back at her, cocking his head.

"Daddy gonna ask why you're out so late?"

"No," she says, distracted.

"Now leave before I do call the police."

"Sure," he says, raising his hands slightly, and backs off without asking any more questions.

Why is he checking up on her? This is a perfectly standard bust -- just because she knows the criminal doesn't make a difference. She's not treating him any differently, not really.

She takes a quick look at the pile of cash on the broken register, then follows Laney towards the back door.

The shadows at the mouth of the alley are very dark.

His tongue flicks at the corner of his mouth as he walks, touching the edge of the wound there.

Okay, so what did he learn from this? Don't commit crimes in LA. The hot girl in the mask is watching. Pretty good to know, and he didn't even have to get shot again or anything. Yeah, tonight is turning uot okay.

"Indulgence," says a cultured, British voice from the mouth of the alley, "leads only to further crime, bent. Have you forgotten?"

A tall man -- masked, like the girl -- materializes out of the shadows in front of Laney, blocking his exit.

Bryce tries not to wince. "No, sir."

His head tilts slowly to one side, regarding the newcomer.

Nope. Not impressed.

Don't worry, Laney, it's mutual.

"The police are on the way," he informs Laney. "I suggest you make this easy and wait for them in the store."

Brightly: "And I suggest you go fuck yourself."

He starts forward again.

"Bad idea," the girl hisses.

He ignores her. One way or another, he is going to have to get around this guy. Might as well make the attempt on his own damn terms.

The man moves forward, smooth and quick, to grab the crowbar away from Laney.

Not bad.

Laney can be quick, too, though. He unhooks the crowbar from his shoulder and brings it around in a short, vicious swing.

The man dodges, grabs the bar, and yanks forward to pull Laney towards him.

Fine.

He twists the crowbar in their combined grip and rams it forward point-first with his whole weight behind it.

At which point the girl tackles him into the wall of the alley.

Which breaks his grip on the crowbar, but takes him past the guy he was fighting. Fair trade, in his opinion. He shoves her away from him and makes a break for it.

She grabs for his shirt, which ought to at least slow him down for a second while the man rights himself and discards the crowbar.

Yeah, it does that.

He pulls away as fast as he can. Still probably not fast enough.

Nope.

The man darts after him and catches him by the wrist, twisting his arm up behind his back.

Which leaves him with one arm free to elbow the man in the stomach.