Based off of the 1997 movie "Excess Baggage".

I do NOT own Excess Baggage or Twilight...


You would NOT believe what a girl's got to do, just to get a little attention.

Really you wouldn't.

See I just wanted what every girl wants from their father. To be loved no matter what. Some one to protect you if you every need help. Someone who picks me up when I fall down. You know, someone to guide me through life. But for some reason my father just didn't get that fact.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I wasn't sure if he'd pay, or even show up. But it wasn't about the money. It was never about the money.

I had this fantasy about my plan working out.

'My father getting me out of the car pushing the reporters and police out of the way. "Thank god, your alright my darling." He would say.

"Mr. Cullen how much did you pay to get your daughter back?" One of the reporters would ask holding the mic and camera in front of our face.

"It doesn't matter. The important thing is that my daughter is safe. And I would pay anything to get her back." Daddy would then smile at me.

It really was the perfect plan even if it didn't work.

I idly tapped my perfectly manicured nails on my BMW and I stared out of the parking structure. I saw a distant bridge and an approaching river barge.

The barge was drawing closer to the bridge. Closer. And closer still. I took a drag of my cigarette, put it out, then I called the number I knew by heart.

I watched with my binoculars as my father Edward Cullen, stands in the phone booth just across from the bridge. He was waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for my call. He was caressing his briefcase like it contained a million dollars, which it does.

Nearby idle joggers in the park are more than obviously undercover cops. I was more than a little surprised that my father involved the cops in this. With all of his questionable business deals it was unexpected. I guess he was just using them to retrieve the money.

I held the voice changing device in my hand ready to make the call.

The phone rings and Daddy answers it.

"I'm here."

"Edward Cullen?" I ask, using the voice filter so he wouldn't recognize my voice.


"Did you bring the money?"


"Good, now listen carefully."

"I wish to speak to my daughter."

"I'm not interested in what you wish, Mr. Cullen. Just follow the questions and stick to the plan. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very" He answered

I watch the barge move towards the bridge and I readjust the fader. It was a real bitch having to adjust and readjust constantly.

"Do you see the barge approaching the bridge?" I asked still using the fader.

I could see him turning his head to look for the barge. Finally he nods.

"Yes, I see it."

"Walk to the bridge, throw the briefcase onto the barge, and come back to the phone booth for further directions."

"How do I know you'll release her?"

"You don't." I finished simply.

Detective Mike Newton, is the kind of guy who does his job well, but everything seems to be shot to hell anyway. This gives him a grim take on life, but he always keeps trying. He watches fellow cop Crowley, fiddle with telephone tracing equipment. Newton's less than garrulous partner, Yorkie, listens in on an extra set of headphones.

"Fucking untraceable cell phone." Crowley mutters.

"What did you expect?" Newton asks

Newton stares out the black van's polarized window at Edward, who's walking steadily out along the bridge.

"It's probably her cell phone." Newton says glancing at Crowley. Newton then looks over at Yorkie and asks "Where is he going?" referring to Mr. Cullen.

"To throw the money over the side." Yorkie answers


"That's what they just told him to do." Yorkie finishes

Newton glaring at Yorkie, grabs for his walkie-talkie.

"Were you going to tell me before or after he tossed it?" Newton asks Yorkie, who just shrugs.

"He's throwing the money onto the barge. I want full surveillance. I mean it, don't loose that barge." Newton said in to the walkie-talkie.


I got the phone balanced precariously on one shoulder while trying to open the trunk of my silver BMW. I got out some heavy duty duct tape. I stared out of the parking structure at the distant bridge.

Daddy's stick figure tiny in the distance, heaves the briefcase over the side of the bridge. The briefcase lands on the barge under the bridge. He then starts back to the phone booth at a steady pace.

"Nice throw, Dad." I noted

The joggers (undercover cops), looking like ants scrounging for food, struggle to keep pace with the barge. I laughed softly while taping my ankles together.

The phone crackles to life.

"You've got the money. Now where's my daughter?" Daddy asked

Ankles taped, I hopped to the trunk to look for the cuffs. I held the fader carefully in my hands and spoke.

"You'll find her in the trunk of her car, which is in fifth level parking at"... I looked at the wrinkled piece of paper in my jeans pocket. "29 East Ninety-Fourth Street."

I hung up, and threw the fader out the parking structure's window. And working fast now because time is running out I duct tape my mouth and hair together. Trying not to gag, I put on the handcuffs, the final touch. They were just plain handcuffs like the cops use, not the fuzzy pink one's I have at home. I crawl in to the trunk of my car and slammed the trunk lid, so it's closed.

Everything was going according to plan. There was just one thing I couldn't have anticipated.


There it was, the BMW M6 Coupe. You could tell it was just a couple months old, but very beautiful, a prize indeed. It was just sitting innocently in it's parking lot. It was absolutely silent, except for the sound of my approaching footsteps.

I was just a well dressed businessman picking up my car and heading home from a long days work. That's what you'd think. That's what I'd want you to think. But what you'd see from me next would disprove that theory.

I walk to the BMW and causally glance both ways. I take out my slim jim lock pick and unlock the car. The alarm system goes off so I hurry up and hot wire the car thus starting the motor. And I drive off.

Newton comes out of the van at a dead run, talking into the walkie-talkie. The undercover cars are peeling out, their sirens wailing as they go.

"Odds are someone's still monitoring us from here..." Newton mutters to himself. He glances at the distant parking structure.

"They can still see us from here, turn off the god damn sirens!" He shouts into the walkie-talkie.

On the barge a man steps out of the wheelhouse, noticing the briefcase on the aft deck. He walks over to it and picks it up, he shakes it. Then opens it and finds a million bucks, in cash.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP, AND DROP THE BREIFCASE." A man says with a blow horn from in the chopper.

The man who works on the barge drops the briefcase and puts up his hands. The money falls out of the briefcase when it drops.

The Chopper then fly's directly over the barge. The money goes flying all over the place, but mostly it's in the Bay. While the scared barge man still has his hands up.

"Ugh, Newton?" The pilot radios in

"What now?" he asks angry that no can ever do anything right.

"We've lost the money" The helicopter pilot says to Newton.

"Dammit. Well how did we lose it?"

"The chopper took it." he replied

"SHIT!" "We lost the fucking money!" he exclaims looking at Yorkie.

"Look that's the BMW."

"The car's on the move. The BMW's leaving." Crowley states

"Are you kidding me? We lost the money. We lost the money and the hostage and the perp's. I don't believe this. Could this day get any fucking worse?" Newton mutters the last part mostly to himself.


I took a right and then a left. And next thing I know I hear sirens. I look in the rear view mirror and I see cops behind me, chasing me. I don't know how on earth they knew I stole the car. But I knew I wasn't about to give up this car. I lead the cops under a highway, and I see more cops. What the hell is going on here?

I swerve around the beams that held up the highway. The cops trying to follow and mimic me end up crashing. They crash into the beams and other cop cars.

I finally am able to get away from the cops. Which is good because I need to get back to the warehouse. Sam will have my head if I don't.

I go to the storage warehouse, which is our cover. In there is where we keep all of the cars I steal. "Push Storage" that's what it's called. Named after Sam and I's home in La Push. The door opens like a garage door, I drive in.

I put the car on a lift. And go up into my office with the black leather backpack purse that was in the backseat of the car. I could hear the chopper up above me, and I immediately felt relief when it passed. I dumped out the contents of the backpack. It was important to do that because there could be money or other valuable things in there.

I found a locket in there that said "plus que ma propre vie" I didn't even know what that meant. But then I saw a license.

Renesmee Carlie Cullen age 18, and that was as far as I could read because I was staring at her picture. She was stunning, she had creamy pale skin with chocolate brown eyes. And reddish brown long curly hair. This girl was a dream, it almost made me feel bad for stealing her car. That minor feeling died after I looked at that sweet silver BMW. It was also stunning. A beautiful car for a beautiful girl, shame I couldn't have both. But I gave that up. Romancing girls, I guess I'm just not relationship material.

I was getting ready to leave. When I heard 'thump', 'thump', 'thump' the noise was coming from the trunk. I looked at the car and it was moving because of the force of the thumps. What the hell was in there? Whatever it is, it's alive.

I knew I had to check it out. I didn't know what was in there. It could be a wild animal or something so because I'm a pussy, I grabbed a crowbar. Slowly and cautiously opened the trunk.

"Mphguh" she screamed. I tripped and slammed the trunk door closed. The car kept moving and thumping, and I could hear her trying to make noise through the duct tape.

I hesitantly reached for the trunk again. I looked at her, it was the same girl from the license photo. Except she was bound with duct tape and hand cuffs.

"Hi" she tried to say but it really came out like "mpghih". I slammed the trunk.

Holy shit, I have a girl in the trunk of the car that I stole...

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