The young woman walked, her hips swaying, her lips slightly curved. Upon her figure were a slender dress and a nametag that spelt out her name, ‘Rachel’. She could vaguely hear the sound of her heels clicking against the marble flooring. It was a great sound.
She paused for a moment, pretending to observe a piece of modern art. Perhaps it was a Da Vinci, or maybe a Van Gough. It didn’t really matter anyways, because soon enough it would be hers. The thought made her smile.
She tapped her fingers against her slender dress impatiently, and her eyes flickered to the back corner of the room where a guard was chatting with a young man in a tailored suit. They had been talking for a good five minutes now, rambling on and on about senseless boy things most likely. The whole situation made her blood boil, because the guard that the young man was talking to was likely to become be her hostage.

The young man talking to the guard threw his head back in a fake laugh, and Rachel imagined his face being ugly and distorted. You see, the two boys were positioned in a way that she couldn’t see either of their faces, so the featureless figures chatted away with what she imagined was too full of lips and bushy eyebrows. That made her feel a little better.
She let out a breath and was just about to casually walk to another piece of art when the young man that had been previously talking to the guard now had the uniformed man in a headlock with the barrel of a gun pointed towards the man’s head.
And the worst part was that, as the young man stood, snarling in his glory, Rachel could see his face. The dark eyebrows that were all too familiar, the full lips, crooked in a smirk that taunted her dreams. She knew that face, and she knew it all too well.
His name was Daniel Pace, and he and Rachel had enough history to bury in a time capsule for the rest of eternity.
The civilians that were scattered around the room let out a cowardly roar as they sunk down to their knees. Daniel didn’t even have to tell them to surrender, they just did, by instinct. A race that was so easily fed by a hunger for power somehow always slunk to their knees at the sight of a gun. Because guns meant death, and Rachel supposed that they feared that.
She slowly crouched, not wanting to blow her cover. Whatever Daniel was playing at wasn’t in her favor. First, he distracts her targeted hostage, then he takes him as his own, and now he is practically asking for the police to come. Rachel had found that her and the police didn’t mix too well.
Daniel, hand still haltered around the guards neck, cleared his throat to address the crowd. Her hand patted the knife she had slid into her wallet as he began to speak.
“Now, if everyone would please exit the room I will not kill this man…yet.” His calm and cocky voice rang throughout the civilian’s ears. They began to scurry out like mice, hustled together, all except for Rachel.
She slunk behind a pillar and waited for the crowd to subside and exit the room before silently walking towards the large, double doors and tying them off with the rope of her hand bag. Besides, it was the only reason she had traveled with a purse to begin with. And she didn’t know what was about to happen, but the last thing she wanted was bigheaded men with badges to waltz in and pretend like they know how to use a gun.
Daniel, whose hands were still occupied by the struggling guard, gave off a laugh and called out to her. “Hey Rachel, I knew you’d be here.”
She huffed and turned towards him, leaning her side against the white washed walls. “Daniel.” The tone of her voice spoke the words she didn’t say. The memories, the mistakes, and the countless insults they shared between them and their past.
He flashed his smirk and winked at her. “Miss me? God, I haven’t seen you since we partnered up with Russian rouges to take on the scandal at the New York MET...” He trailed off and she rolled her eyes. “We both know that didn’t go over well.”
He half laughed at the bitterness in her voice and shrugged. “What can I say? Not my best heist, or my best hair day for that matter.”
She ignored the comical comment and stepped closer to him. They only had a minute or two before the police showed up, and she wasn’t too keen on going to jail any time soon.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? This was my gig!” She spat her words at him. He made her blood boil, especially with his childish answers.
“Says who? Last time I checked you didn’t own this building.” His comeback had little affect on her and she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him blankly. “Last time I checked, you didn’t own anything.”
Daniel swallowed. “I’ve cleaned up since then. Besides, that was what? 4 years ago? We were kids, teenagers. We didn’t know what we were doing.”
It was true; they had been young when they first met…too young, too naïve, and far too reckless.
Just then there was pounding on the door that Rachel had previously jammed shut. The idiots, meaning the NYPD of course, were trying to break the door down.
Daniel sighed and held his gun under his arm as he used his free hand to reach inside his pant pocket. He retrieved a small lighter and tossed it to Rachel, who caught it with ease. It might have been a while since they last worked together, but this procedure was protocol. The whole situation almost had a homey feel to it, because this was what had made up her day since she had first met Daniel. These situations had made up her childhood.
He looked directly towards the security camera and spoke loudly. “Take one step inside this room and I’ll kill him and then my friend will set this lovely painting on fire. Got that?”
Rachel almost smiled when she heard his threat. And then, for the first time that evening, their hostage of a guard spoke in a squeaky voice. “Listen, you two obviously have some problems, but I know some great couples therapy places who could clear this all right up for ya, huh? Their great, I swear-“ And then his sorry excuse of a voice was cut short by the sound of a gun shot being fired from the pistol in Daniel’s hand. The guard fell limp to the ground and Daniel brushed his hands off, like he was finishing a pesky job.
“Daniel!” Rachel exclaimed, scolding his impulsive behavior. Daniel looked up at her, a playful look leaking its way into his eyes. “I fired a blank. The pansy heard the noise and passed out. Geez, lighten up Rachel, I told you I cleaned up.”
She let out her breath and rubbed her hands together. “Well, now what? The building is in lock down, and our hostage is unconscious. Tell me, what exactly was the purpose of this?”
Daniel looked at her, lips pursed in honesty. “I hadn’t seen you in a while and I thought I might crash your heist. You know, so we could catch up. Besides, I have an extraction team meeting us on the roof in 4 minutes.” He said the last part in a soft whisper, to where only Rachel could hear him. And yes, she did listen, but she was far too caught up on the beginning of his response.
Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him like he was fortifiable insane. “You did this because you missed me?” He voice rose at the end of the question, causing him to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. He then recovered to his criminal status and his lips fell into a line. “I didn’t miss you.”
Rachel smirked at him playfully. “Oh yeah, you totally missed me.”
It was almost an accomplishment, to have any sort of emotional tie in this field of business, and there was even less of a chance of having anyone admit it.
Daniel rolled his eyes and resorted back to threats. “You know, right now the extraction team is prepping for two passengers…should I notify them that there will only be one?” Rachel knew that part of him was kidding, but the other part of him was entirely too serious.
She huffed and met his expressionless face as somewhat sarcastic words rolled of her tongue. “I hate you.”
And then his mask broke and he let out a small smile. “I know.”