This story is Uncommon Criminals in the POV of W. W. Hale. I love this guy. I may be bias because he has a boat and abs but I still love him.

AN: This is my first Fanfiction ever. So, please review. Flames are accepted but be nice about it please. If enough people review and want me to continue I'll keep writing this story. I hope you enjoy.

This is dedicated to Amy, without whom I would never have discovered the joys of Fanfiction.

Random thing to do for today: Look up Finger Monkeys on Google Images. Your mind will be blown.

Disclaimer: I'm not Ally Carter and therefore do not own Heist Society, Uncommon Criminals or W. W. Hale *sob*. I do however own Hale's thoughts.

From his New York apartment the young man watched the snow fall to the crowded streets below. A frown was etched onto his face, a result of the phone conversation he had just had. As he looked down at the miniature world below him he picked up the phone once more. This time it was Marcus on the other end.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm going to need a ride this afternoon."

"Of course, sir. Where to?"

"JFK Airport. Goodbye Marcus."

"Yes, s-"

W. W. Hale wasn't usually as rude as he had just been to Marcus. Hanging up abruptly was something he normally saved for family members but something was leaving him on edge. Not something as such, but someone. She just had to not tell him where she was going every time. He could help. What if something had gone wrong? She was out there alone. In a KGB house of all places? Kat was going to be the death of him. It wasn't that Hale doubted Kat. In fact it was the opposite. He knew she was well able to do it alone, but it still worried him no end when she went off without at least one other person to be there to help in case something went wrong. It hurt that she didn't even tell him what she was doing. They were a team. Or so he had thought. Hale still couldn't wait to see her though. It had been too long.

As he walked down his hallway toward his bedroom he spared a glance at the painting on the wall. A light blue Monet hung on the wall, contrasting against the pastel yellow walls. It was his favourite, and one of the best fakes to have been made. It reminded him of Kat, like most things did these days. Hale pushed all thoughts from his mind as he flopped down onto his bed. Sleep took over almost immediately, but still not quite fast enough for thoughts of a certain thief to stay away.

AN: That's the end of chapter one. I'm sorry it's short but I'm trying to write the chapters in Hale's POV in sync with those chapters actually in the book and since not much happened in chapter one of Uncommon Criminals, there isn't much going on in here either. In theory that means there will be 42 chapters in total if I continue with this. Wow. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and please do review. Sorry if Hale's OOC. I'm new to this.

Isabella