|IMan: Forbidden Competition
Author: kittykatsy2001 PM
Rate M, just in case, probably T. Based on the tv show, Forbidden Competition introduces a new original character solely owned by me. Will Darien learn to behave himsel... or will he default ot old ways to impress his competitor?Rated: Fiction M - English - Sci-Fi/Crime - Chapters: 3 - Words: 9,004 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 07-13-10 - id: 6138418
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Everything was going according to the plan. They had by-passed the front door security system and entered the lobby without tripping a single sensor. Coming up to the vault room, a spray was released, revealing several red beams of light, sensors. About two feet through them, was a push button code box on the wall. Maneuvering an arm through, not triggering a solitary beam, the mechanism was reached. Select numbers were punched in; within seconds the beams were deactivated. There was a small sigh of relief from all. They proceed to the actual door of the vault; it is searched up, down, and checked quite thoroughly. The end of a stethoscope was now pressed next to the safe's dial; slowly the dial turns from left to right, at each turn certain clicks are listened for. The dial stops, and the stethoscope is put away in a black case. A hand grips the lever and pushes down while pulling out, hard. The vault opens while creaking. They all rush inside with their cheap black leather bags, filling them with stacks of large bills and gold bars. Leaving next to nothing, the greedy guilty persons go for their get-a-way. What they hadn't expected was being set up, as they closed in, to the front door, a swat team barges in. right away half of the criminalized thieves were caught and under control. Three more were playing difficult, with assault rifles in their hands and firing, the swat team could not press on for a full capture. Two officers were hit and down. Swat shields were raised in attempt to at least stand their ground, a decision was made to send in their secret weapon. On the other side of the lobby the assault continued while an unseen fourth person was sent to scout for a second escape route. All of a sudden the three wanna-be assailants were soon thrown into chaos. Somehow a minority of their extra ammo went off in one of the cases. The man holding the ammo case was hurt severely; the other two looked over to him, then, for some reason, buttheads with one another and pass out. The swat team uses this to their advantage. Once the fourth man, the scout returns in time to witness the last bit of the scene from behind a corner. Just then, the swat team took over and out of no where, silver flakes about six feet in the air, fall to the ground to disappear. To the remaining felon's surprise, a man had appeared in place of the flakes. In the felon's surprise, a breath of shock was let out, giving away their held position, though only to the materialized man's notice. Quickly, yet again, the assailant fled but with the man on their trail; being chased through hallways and other rooms the chase ends at the second exit, quickly though it they run out onto the roof-top of the building. Now the two were face to face.
"Whoa... whoa... Just, calm down now." The man about six-foot two, tries to cautiously calm the other.
Looking around frantically, the assailant gets the bearings they need and walks to the edge of the roof, judging the distance and prepares themselves. "If I wasn't calm, would I be able to do this?" Backs up a bit, to give some running space.
"Don't play like a stupid chic-" He stops mid-sentence as the, five-foot four blonde makes her jump. Right before the woman landed and was able to turn around; he cricks his neck and physically disappears. "I like a chic that plays hard to get."
Once she'd landed on the next roof top, the woman quickly pivots herself to look back where she'd come from. The guy was nowhere to be seen. She looks around her space as though paranoid, then came the tap on her right shoulder. Rather than turning to see who it was, she drops, sweeping her foot down low. There's an audible 'thud' followed by a moan. Looking where the noise came, she still saw nothing. After a few short moments later the flakes she saw earlier appear just to fade away again, rematerializing the man on the cemented roof top, laying down holding his head. "I'm no ordinary 'chic.'"
"Yeah..." Pauses to look at her. "I see that. For one, you're not only crazy... but have good aim for what you don't see."
"It's a talent." Brags. "What can I say?"
"You can say that you'll turn yourself in." He holds out his hand as though asking for help up.
Rolling her eyes, she starts walking off to a drain pipe to climb down, but stops. "For someone who's awfully mouthy, you don't seem to have anything intelligent to say." Retorts with a cocky grin.
"You know... I used to be just like you." He attempts a different tactic.
"Oh? So you used to be a woman?" asks with an inquisitive look upon her face.
Facial expression now showing his annoyance, as he gets back up to his feet again, slowly. "Funny. Real funny... no!"
"By all means, enlighten me then." Now takes a seat on the ledge, it's far enough that if he tries anything she'd have enough opportunity to still get away.
"I meant that I used to be a thief, like you. I would do the whole thing. Break in, steal money and leave, of course I never used any heavy weaponry unlike you and your friends back there. But yah, same theme, thought I was slick and would never get caught. That's where I was wrong. Instead... I was busted and framed fir a murder I never committed, and had to do time." Through out the speech he took one gradual step forward at a time.
With sarcasm she wipes a non-existent tear from one of her long lashed eyes. "That- that was touching. Really it was." Looks to her wrist, "However, I'm falling behind schedule. You see, I was supposed to be out of, at least, city limits half an hour ago. Don't get me wrong, I loved our sappy little chat. But, now I must go."
"What makes you think I won't follow you?"
"Oh that. Yes, you would think that would be a problem for me. Wouldn't you?"
The spiky blond haired guy shrugs with a nod of victory. "Isn't it?"
Bringing her hand out from behind her back, as it'd looked like she'd been leaning, pulls out a beauty of a gun with a nifty little silencer attached. "Because of this. You see..." She stands up walking towards him with the weapon trained on his head. "I don't care for the heavy stuff either; I prefer the light weight and quiet artillery. Oh and I suggest you stay right where you are, and visible. Get down on the ground again and turn over on that beer belly there with your hands on the back of your head, feet spread apart."
"Beer belly?" He was quite offended now. He may enjoy drinking, but he did work out... occasionally.
"Shut up, you heard me." As the guy does as told, the girl stops at his side, bends down, and frisks him.
"Hey watch it. You mind taking it a little easier? I'd like to enjoy this." He cracks.
"I'm sure you would." Now, reaches into one of this guy's back pockets.
"You must really like me; you haven't shot my head of yet. You know if yah let me up-" Gets cut off again.
"Not on your life buddy!" Pulling out his wallet, she skims through it, there's about sixty dollars in cash and a couple different I.D. cards with the same picture and name printed on all of them. "Well, thanks for the lunch money- uh..." Looks again at an I.D. "Agent Darien Pox. I'll just hold onto this," Flashes the wallet, "for yah. Wouldn't want you to lose it." Hearing voices come their direction, pauses. She now turns to head back to the drain pipe once more. "Now, I'm leaving, so don't go trying any of your weird disappearing acts on me. Cuz' if you were impressed by my leg sweep so much, wait till you see the aim the bullet in this gun has right at your head."
"Yah I know the drill..." Darien, thinking he'd be clever, attempts to get the chic to screw up and give him her name. To his satisfaction, it works. But not exactly the way 'he' thinks. "Well, you already know my name. How about telling me yours so we can set up a proper date the next time we meet?"
Halfway on the pipe, with a snicker "Yah alright. Csiejae. My name's Csiejae." She knew that with as dumb as this guy looked, he'd think her name was a set of initials. Quickly she then shimmies her way down the drain pipe, and leapt to the ground while still eight feet in the air. Casually she blends her way into a nearing crowd and makes her own vanishing act.
"Fox! FOX! Fox where the hell are yah?" Came a familiar voice, for Darien, on top of the original towering structure.
Slowly he climbs back to his feet, arms still raised above his head. "Hobbes!" yells back as his comrade spots him. "There wouldn't happen to be anything still gunned for my head is there?" asks a bit nervously.
"No." Hobbs shakes his head from side to side with a confused look upon his face. "But you don't look so well my friend... how and... why, are you over there? Holsters his own gun now.
Arms falling back to his sides and letting out a heavy sigh of relief, glances behind himself, then back to Hobbes, "Long story man. Tell me how to get down first."
Back at the Agency, Fox and Hobbes were talking over the previous hold up at the National Union Bank.
"Tell me, my friend... when she was uh... friskin' yah, was she... you know... was she 'frisking'..."
"Bobby? No. NO!" Fox shakes his head in disgust, but his hormones were telling him to spice up the story for his friend's sake and his own ego too. "Oh, but I will tell yah it was enough to make even you uncomfortable. I think she enjoyed, yah know, pat 'n' me down!" A giddy smile over comes him.
"Yah! I'm telling' yah my friend, you and I, you... and I, my friend. We have the looks and ora's of the gods!" Boasts Robert Hobbes, whose ego exceeds his brain cells.
"Uh... Yeah." Darien had to stifle a laugh back at the thought of some chic applying the words: Good looks, ora, and Bobby Hobbes in the same sentence. But then he applied them to himself, "Yeah... yeah!" Confidence rings in his voice. "My friend you are 'so' right."
"Eh heh, yah see my friend!" Hobbes leaves a rhetorical question out there.