365 Days (The Two Of Us)


Franklin clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. (Damn, how we in this mess man?) he thought to himself. He glowered at the gangly cop, who had taken a disturbing pleasure in throwing the burly black man into the back of his police car. Handcuffed and ireful, and sat next to him was one of his partners in crime; Michael De Santa. The cops had ensured both Franklin and Michael had taken a few cursory "trips" on the way to the car, even though they had surrendered at the sight of the choppers they knew they could not out-run.

The cops had shot out the tires of their getaway car, and sent it careening down the mountain, where they had tried to evade the army of cops on their tails. It had all come to a halt as their car skidded to an abrupt halt in the middle of the highway. They shared a look of dismay, and complete disgust, more at the fact their third counterpart Trevor Phillips had escaped in another car.

That crazy mother fucker. Franklin mused to himself, and he knew Michael was sharing this thought.

The sirens blared as the cop car fleet began to zip down the highway en route to the Los Santos county lock-up. It was on this car ride, that again, they'd suffered some unfortunate "bumps" if only from the cop's maniacal driving.

"Damn this the homie that jammed us onto the highway? Shit, be lucky if we even make it to the big-house alive," Frankin murmured to Michael, who laughed ironically. The cop screeched to a halt and turned to wither both men with a look of derision.

"Keep it down back there," he rattled his nightstick through the headrests.

"Hey, watch it asshole," Michael growled, the cop simply smirked, raising Michael's ire further still. He thrashed about in the back of the car, and let out a frustrated scream, when he remembered he couldn't move his hands or feet. Franklin kicked him swiftly with his manacled feet and Michael turned to him;

"Hey!" was all he uttered towards his friend, and counterpart.

"Chill it dawg, it's bad enough, don't be makin' it worse!" Franklin tutted as he spoke. Michael made one last fight to release his hands and then slumped against the window in defeat, still muttering angrily to himself. Franklin shook his head and sighed;

"This is fucking bullshit. And T's out there right now, with our share of the green," he grizzled. Michael groaned in exasperation;

"Don't fucking remind me. That fucking asshole. He's gonna leave us to rot in a tin can whilst he lives it up at the Vanilla Unicorn," he spat each word with added poison; it was not the first time Trevor had hung Michael out to dry. Of course, Michael had done his fair share of misconduct to Trevor over the years.

"Of course, after all of the shit I put T through, I can't even blame the guy," Michael chewed the inside of his cheek to avoid losing his temper again.

"Yeah, that's you homie, I ain't deservin' of his anger, why I gotta go down with you?" Franklin exclaimed, bitter at everything that had transpired thus far.

"Forgive me," Michael snapped, not the least bit sincere.

"A'ight dawg, it's cool, it's cool. T will come and spring us, right?" he looked at Michael for hope and relief from his misgivings.

"I wouldn't put it past him. Crazy motherfucker. Who knows what goes on in that guy's head?" Michael smirked grimly.

"Thank God for small miracles," Franklin chuckled, glad to have the pleasure of being stuck here with Michael, and not psychotic, deranged Trevor.

The doors either side of Michael and Franklin were wrenched open and they both felt the grappling hands of police officers on the back of their necks and shoulders as they were dragged roughly from the back seat.

"Ease up pig," Franklin snarled and bucked against the hands that grappled him. The cop jeered at him and dragged him into the station. Franklin could hear Michael's angry outburst behind him, causing him to feel even more angry than he thought he'd initially been.

"Book these two. Clinton and De Santa. I called it in before. They're two of the three idiots who held up the Maze Bank," he glared at them and spoke with disgust. The receptionist frowned;

"Where's the other one?" she raised a shaped eyebrow;

"He got away," he spoke with clenched teeth.