Hello! So, this is my first Baby Daddy fanfic, and I'm really excited to post it! It's weird, posting a serious-ish story for a funny show, but I thought of my OC, Liesel Weiss, a long time ago, and I thought she'd be perfect in this setting to create a bit of drama in the Baby Daddy world (but don't worry, this story'll have some humor too)! And also, Liesel Weiss is pronounced lee-zuhl vize. By the way, before you go on reading this story, I've never been shot before, so I'm not exactly sure how it would feel to be shot! Well, I had a dream before, but that's beside the point! Also, because Liesel is German, and so are some of the characters, they will speak in a German accent! All English words that have a "w" as the first letter will have a "v" in its place. Also, any English word that begins with a "v" will have an "f" in its place! I think that's accurate for a German accent. I'm not sure. Oh, and the word "and" will be "und", which is the German word for "and". Please remember that I'm not an expert in German! I'd like to be, but I'm not! Translations will be at the end of this chapter!

"Verdammt! Don't let the girl get away! How else vill ve get to her father?"


The shooting was unbearably loud in her ears, and she ducked down behind the car, trying to keep from screaming as the glass shattered and fell on her body. Her heart was racing, and she knew that if she didn't do something fast, she was going to die.

She started running with her back bent over so her torso had protection from the guns shooting at her. As she ran, she tried getting the small gun that her father gave to her out of her purse, and before she could make it around the corner, she turned and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew into one man's leg, while another bullet buried itself into her arm. She gasped in pain and started running again, regretting her decision to shoot. Blood was trickling down her arm, but she couldn't stop running until she was in a public place, where she was certain they wouldn't shoot. They couldn't risk getting arrested, or else all their other crimes would be brought to light.

She suddenly heard the distinct sound of tires squealing from at least twenty feet behind her, and she forced herself to move faster down the street. She started to hear yelling and one man tried shooting her, but she managed to get ahead, and the man missed her head by a few inches. She let out a small, scared squeak and she tried crossing her right arm over her chest, positioning the gun discreetly over her left shoulder, and pulled the trigger twice. She heard a shout and then a loud crash. She dared herself to turn around, and she saw that she had shot the driver of the car, but he wasn't dead, thankfully, but was definitely in pain. She grinned, and the small victory gave her enough energy to run faster. For once, she was glad that her father had taught her to shoot a gun.

The car doors opened and slammed as the men piled out of the car to chase her. She kept running, not daring to turn around again. Her arm hurt like hell, and she was starting to get dizzy, but she couldn't stop until she was safe. Besides, this wasn't the first time she was being chased. But no matter how many times it happened before, she knew that there was always a chance that she wouldn't make it out alive. How she longed to escape this; the constant targeting that prevented her from having a normal life. She just wanted to escape. She didn't want people to want her dead just because of who her father was.

"Schneller, schneller, Liesel!" she whispered harshly to herself, gasping for air.

"Stoppen!" a man yelled from at least five feet behind her, and she gasped and ran as fast as she possibly could. She ran so fast that she felt her legs would fall off and she would fall onto the pavement face first.

"Wegkommen!" she screeched, and she turned around. Just as he was about to slam into her, she held the gun in front of her and shot him in the shoulder. "Gute nacht." He fell to his knees before slumping over in unconsciousness.

She left the man on the ground. She would've stayed a bit longer if she hadn't seen more men running down the street, pulling out their guns. She shot at them a few times, just barely avoiding a few shots herself before she started running again.

Berlin was a beautiful sight at night, but she had no time to enjoy the nightlife as she ran down the streets, not caring about who saw her, and not caring about how crazy she must've looked with a gun wound to the arm, her normally straight hair looking like a bird's nest and her glasses falling to the tip of her nose as she dashed down the street and through a small crowd of people as they were leaving a bar.

"Arschloch!" one man exclaimed angrily as she pushed past him. She heard him run after her briefly before he gave up with a livid growl.

"Danke!" she called from the corner before she sighed in relief. She was at a busy street. They wouldn't shoot her there. She looked at the street sign and saw that she was at Hannah-Arendt-Straße. She smiled slightly. She was near the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. It was a beautiful place to sit and relax, as well as pay respects to the fallen Jewish people who died during the Holocaust. Besides, if they decided to chase her, if not shoot her, they couldn't while they were at the memorial. She knew that even they had enough respect to not shoot her there.

She crossed the street, making sure her hair covered her gun wound and slipping the gun quickly into the pocket inside her sweater as she looked around to see if anyone was watching her. She jogged off the street and to Cora-Berliner-Straße. She nodded at the people leaving the memorial as she walked onto the famous site. The simple yet elegant beauty of the memorial never ceased to amaze her. She loved the way she felt safe and hidden among the stelae.

As the stelae got taller, she found herself walking faster into the heart of the memorial. She could feel the hairs on her arm rising, as if someone was watching her. But she was always being watched.

Just then, she was reminded of the bullet currently embedded in the flesh of her arm. She hissed and leaned against the concrete slab to her right. She knew she would have to take it out eventually. She might as well do it now. It couldn't be too hard. All she had to do was pull the bullet out of her arm.

"Kein problem," she muttered unconvincingly to herself. She leaned her head back against the slab for a moment, staring up into the night sky, before she dug her fingers into her skin and pulled the bullet out. She gasped in pain, and she pushed her head against the slab as a fiery sort of pain seared through her arm. "Es geht mir gut. Kein schmerz."

She held the bloody bullet in her palm, relieved it was out. She decided to keep it. It wouldn't be good if someone found a bloody bullet at a memorial. She played with it for a moment before pocketing it.

She let her exhausted body slide down, feeling the cold ground on the back of her legs. It soothed her and calmed her still-racing heart. She let her purse slide down her arm and onto the ground. She put her gun in and took her camera out. She scrolled through the pictures of Berlin with bokeh, smiling. She loved bokeh. She strived to have bokeh in her pictures as much as possible.

She wondered if she could ever take pictures with bokeh in places besides Berlin, or even Germany. As much as she loved Deutschland, she would never be free. She would always be a target because of her father. Tonight was an example of that. She was starting to get used to being shot at, and she shouldn't be used to it.

She longed to go somewhere far away. Somewhere far away where she could be free and she could proudly say her name without anyone knowing who her father was. She could never do that in Germany. Unless it was necessary, she only gave her first name. She wanted to be proud of her name, but it was impossible. Damn her father for that.

Don't get her wrong. She liked her parents. They gave her everything she needed, and they cared about her, but she was trapped in a life with a criminal father and a lovestruck mother. Her mother would never leave her father, no matter how bad he was. It seemed that Liesel was the only sane one in her family, besides her younger brother, Alaric.

There were plenty of places she would love to go and live. She liked the idea of living in the United States most of all. Even though it was probably much different than Germany, let alone Europe, it was probably safer there. Who would want to travel all the way to America just to get information out of an eighteen year old girl? That person would have to be crazy, or desperate. It didn't help if the person was both. But not even they could be that desperate. She barely knew anything about her father's crimes. All she knew was that he was wanted, and therefore, by relation, so was she and her whole family.

She smiled at the thought of New York City. It sounded like a wonderful place to blend into the populace. She wasn't stunningly beautiful or devastatingly ugly, so she wouldn't stand out. Plus, there were many foreigners in New York City. What difference would it make if there was one more German girl?

It would be perfect. She would live in a small apartment, maybe in Queens, or maybe right in the city, though both would be expensive. She shook her head, amused at herself. Right now, she, Alaric and her parents lived in a penthouse. They were rich, though she couldn't help but think to herself: not honestly. Their wealth was earned through dishonest and corrupted methods, and as much as she wanted to tell her father that, there was no way she could survive without his wealth. What would she do? Go out on the streets, defenseless? Not a good plan.

Liesel leaned back even further, if possible, letting her head run wild with fantasies of her could-be life in New York. It would truly be perfect.

"Vielleicht ein tag," she whispered, and she let out a small squeak of discomfort when the wind blew, chilling her wound, reminding her of the dull pain. She really should go home and treat it, but she wanted to stay a bit longer in the peace, quiet and solemnity.

If she lived in New York City, perhaps she could take some of those online courses for college. Or maybe she could just find a job right away. Or start a business. Or she could be a photographer. She was already well on her way, and if people liked her style (with bokeh lights in the background and all), she could make a lot of money.

And maybe, just maybe, along the way, she would find someone and have an American husband. She blushed at the thought. She's never indulged herself much in the thought of romance, but when she did, she got flustered. She used to think it was impossible, especially for someone like her. A German girl with a criminal father, and a girl who was constantly being targeted, though only recently did she start getting shot at. But in America, nobody had to know. In America, she could be Liesel Weiss, the new German girl, not Liesel Weiss, the daughter of Kaspar Weiss.

The wind picked up again, and she was instantly brought to reality, only this time, the warmth of hope, the hope of a new life in America, stayed with her. Even though all she had right now was her camera, Berlin, and herself, perhaps one day, vielleicht ein tag, she would be free, and her life would no longer be under the gun.

So, what'd you think? By the way, if there's anybody out there reading this, if you speak German fluently and are able to PM me, would you like to help me with German phrases if needed? I don't really trust Google Translate, though this time, obviously, I didn't have much of a choice, so I hope nothing was wrong (please correct me if there was something wrong!)! Please think about it, fluent German speakers! And now, time for the translations! Let's just hope Google Translate didn't fail me!

Verdammt= damn it/dammit/damn (I was hoping that in the context of the story, it would be damn it/dammit!)

Schneller= faster

Stoppen= stop

Wegkommen= get away

Gute nacht= good night

Arschloch= asshole

Danke= thank you

Kein problem= no problem

Es geht mir gut= I'm fine

Kein schmerz= no pain

Deutschland= Germany

Vielleicht ein tag= perhaps one day

Oh, and one more thing! I'm having a major brain-fart, so could someone tell me if Ben's twenty or twenty one? Danke!