Jade Impression

Part Three

Reading List: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: AU where Bucky is part of the white collar crime division of the Brooklyn police and you're a well known thief that he's had in his sights for years but has never caught. What happens when you get in too deep and have to turn to the one person who's been longing to lock you away for as long as he's been after you?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,107-ish Warning:  Angst, violence and language.

A/N: I decided to try a little something new with this chapter and toss in Bucky’s POV. Not sure if I’ll continue to that do that the chapters to come. Let me know what you think! Next chapter things will really start to heat up!

Previous tonight when you made an exodus from your loft you had been too worried about the fact that pissed off Irishmen were trying to break down your door then why they were there in the first place. You had done nothing to get on the wrong side of the Irish so why had they given you such a rude awakening? Going to one of the few places you trusted you sat in a booth at a local diner with the hood pulled up over your head to cover your hair and obscure your features. You knew it was unlikely they would look for you here but you weren’t that far from the loft so there was that small chance they would increase their search radius.

While in the diner having a cup of far too strong coffee was when you saw it. The news was showing a scene from a local card game, the door of the building was broken and there were bodies covered with black police tarps. It was the same card game Dimitri had wanted you to rob but you hadn’t been anywhere near that building, you had turned down the job. “We’ve gotten word that this is the work of a local thief known as The Phoenix. A calling card was left on the scene which is the same as what has been found at many other robberies but this is the first time there is a body count. We’re told the BPD will be releasing a sketch of the woman in question later today. If you have any information please call our toll free number listed at the bottom of the screen.” Your blood ran cold and time seemed to slow down as your brain fought to process the information which had just been placed before you.

Killing people was never part of your MO and you always did your best to avoid unnecessary risks on a job. Every life mattered and no one should loss theirs over something someone wanted more than they did. On occasion you had to knock people out but never had you killed anyone, you might be a thief but you weren’t a murder, everyone knew that. Everyone other than the Irish and the BPD anyway. Pulling your cell phone from your pocket you hit redial on the number Dimitri had called you from the other day but your world came crashing down at the tone which came back to you, the automated voice informing you that your call could not be completed as dialed, please hang up, check the number and try again. If you were anyone else you would worry about someone tracking your phone but you were smarter than that and had a friend write a program to keep anyone from being able to track you.

The feeling of being numb quickly wore off as anger took over, you had refused to do a job and Dimitri had framed you for it anyway. He had to have known you would say no because the card game was a day earlier than he originally said and he had your calling card. Why would the Russian’s do something that could start a mob war? And then you realized the answer, if the blame fell on you there would be no war because the Irish would think you had acted alone. Though you always had a benefactor and everyone you worked with knew that, there were very few jobs you ever did for yourself and the one in question was not one of them.

“Can I get you anything else sweetie?” The grandma like waitress asked you as she stopped by your table. A small smile pulled at your lips for the first time tonight, you were grateful for her kindness and she seemed to radiate warmth.

“A slice of apple pie please and then I’ll get out of your hair.” The older woman patted you on the arm as if she knew that was something you needed right now and you were so appreciative for the small amount of human contact. As she walked away to get your pie you looked up the number for the BPD precinct knowing if it was a case involving you Detective Barnes was either at the scene or at the station and you hadn’t seen him in the short news clip so it was likely he was at the station. The Chief of Police was probably grilling him on how he allowed this to happen since he was the Detective assigned to your case.

As you wait for your pie you can’t help but drum your fingers against the vinyl covered table top, you weren’t impatient by any means you were just very nervous and wound up. The feeling of safety that the dinner possessed seemed to be slipping farther and farther away by the minute. There were very limited people you could turn to since most that ran in your circle wouldn’t hesitate to hand you over to the Irish no matter what you had done for them in the past, not that you could really blame them. Loyalty had it’s limits in this line of work.

The plate of pie was placed on your table and your waitress gave you another warm smile before she moved to check on another table. After a night like tonight you really needed a slice of pie and that sort of friendly smile because you weren’t sure when the next time you were going to see such a smile would be. Digging into the sugary concoction there was an explosion of flavor which came with your first bite. Not knowing when you next meal would be, you probably should have opted for something with more protein and sustenance but you needed comfort food right now.

It wasn’t long before the pie was completely devoured and you were staring at one contact in your phone. A contact you shouldn’t even have and yet you did. After Detective Barnes had so rudely began grilling people in your life, you had become snooping into his and gained his personal cell number thanks to a techy friend. Pressing the little phone button and initiating the call would change everything, were you ready for the fall out it could cause? What if didn’t believe you? Those were chances you were going to have to take because you had no other options and very few friends and alliances now. Licking the last bit of apple pie filling from the fork you finally bit the bullet and pressed the called button.

For a moment you don’t think he’s going to answer, it’s the early hours of the morning, he’s likely at work and it’s an unknown number but all you have left is hope.

Bucky’s POV

The precinct had been a mad house since the call came in. Patrol officers had been the first on the scene and the description they gave was one of vivid and gory detail before homicide had arrived. What he hadn’t expected was the calling card that was left at the scene. It didn’t make any scene but the moment that evidence had been logged and the chief was back at the station he and Steve were both called into the office the door being slammed closed and the blinds being pulled closed. “How did this happen? The two of you have been on this case for close to a year, no leads, no capture and now she’s not only stolen but killed many in the Irish mob! How the hell did you allow this to happen?”

The chief’s face was blood red a vein in his forehead pulsing under the skin as he glared at James and Steve from across the desk. The business like card with a single lipstick print was flung  across the desk in an evidence baggy, the wrinkles of the print making it look like the card was kissed by fire itself. It didn’t make any sense to him that The Phoenix would steal let alone kill someone of any mob, it wasn’t her MO and yet this was her calling card. Lifting the bag for a closer inspection something seemed a bit off with it, the lip marks were almost too perfect. “You told me that you were making head wave on this case! This is not what I call head wave!” Despite the chief’s words his eyes were glued to the evidence bag and the card within.

“You’ve seen her Barnes and  you’re going to meet with a sketch artist. I’ve allowed the two of you to make enough of a mess of this. Rogers, Barnes, you’re off the case since it seems the two of you had no idea what you were dealing with. It’s been handed off to homicide along with all your case files.” James’ eyes snapped up at those words, this couldn’t be happening? He was just getting a break in the case on The Phoenix and now it was being taken from him? Anger burned within him.

Steve put his hand on James’ arm trying to get him to calm down, “This has been my case from the start! I was the first person to even tie her robbers together before she started using a calling card! She might be brazen in what she takes but this isn’t her style, she avoids hurting people at all…”

“That’s enough Barnes!” The rage in his chief’s voice told him he had crossed a line, “One more word Barnes, just one and instead of being off the case, you’ll be suspended! You will not follow any leads, you will not look at any of the files or ask questions of those on the case, you’ll give a description for a sketch and that is it. Stay out of the way, both of you or I’ll have your badges. Dismissed.” His voice was final as both James and Steve left the office Steve looking defeated and James looked infuriated.

“Bucky I know you well enough to know you don’t want to drop this but you need to. This isn’t our case anymore, white collar crime is ours, homicide is a whole other department.” That gave James no reassurance as he moved to his desk and fell into the chair his metal fist slamming against the desk causing those around to look towards him.

It took him a few rings before he realized his cell phone was ringing. His brow furrowed not recognizing the number but he answered anyway, “James Barnes.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end until a feminine voice began to speak. The edge of sensuality still clung to it but there was fear as well, “I know what I’m being accused of and I didn’t do it. I don’t kill people, nothing is that important to me.” Her voice was low as if she were whispering as she spoke. There was such sincerity in her voice which he hadn’t expected.

Glacier like hues roamed over those nearby hoping no one suspected the phone call he had just entered into. Why would anyone suspect such a thing though? The idea of a criminal calling an officer for anything other than a taunt was unheard of. “Something is that important to someone doll and it’s important enough to drag you into it. I’ve been chasing you for a long time and in that time I’ve never seen a job you pulled where you hurt anyone and I’ve never known you to steal from the mob.” His voice was low keeping his conversation lowkey. “That doesn’t mean that people don’t change though and maybe this time it was important enough to kill over.”

Silence once more filled the line, he wanted to trust her but her life and how she lived was built on lies and misdirection. “Meet me tonight and I’ll explain everything I can. I know that you have no reason to trust me but you’re the only person who’s figured out jobs even I had forgotten that I’ve pulled. You know me better than you can imagine and I know despite your words, you don’t believe I did this. I’ll see you at Sin-Sation at nine o’clock. If I see any cops including your partner I’m gone. The people who are framing me, they have a far reach and even if they didn’t we both know the Irish have cops on their payroll and would love to get to me as soon as possible.” There was some sort of sound in the background that he couldn’t make out before the line went dead. Now he had a choice, he could trust a criminal or he could turn her in. Police custody wouldn’t save her from the Irish and regardless of if she did it or not they thought they did and they would find a way to kill her to send a message.

Tag List: @archerassassin @winter-in-wakanda @voltronmullet

One Shot

Summary: Based on an idea which hit me while I have the urge to make cookies but my stupid eating healthy way of living for the month won’t allow me to. While at T’Challa’s base in Wakanda you can’t help but take over the kitchen to make some cookies. Your day was hell while you trained with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers and baking is how you deal with things.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Warning: None, fluffy as all get out.

Every muscle in your body was strained and sore and all you wanted was to take a hot shower and just relax for the night. Of course you were too wound up after the last two hours of training first with Sam and then with Steve. The two might be fun loving and full of smiles but they were both intense to train with and you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle it much longer. You were told it would be easier with time but the three of you had this training routine in past for at least a week and you were still sore and regretting agreeing to this whole situation.

Unlike many of those at the Wakanda base you weren’t some form of security, an ex-Avenger ex-military or anything else of the sort. You were studying different forms of technology and practical uses of Vibranium, the Wakanda government had gotten a hold of one of your essays on the topic and offered you a student Visa of sorts. Now T’Challa and his scientists had you assisting them as they worked on creating a new arm for James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the former Winter Solider. Sam and Steve worried over your safety with working on such a dangerous project even though you were supposedly safe within the confines of the base.

That of course only added to your stress and urge to just let it all go and unwind, in theory that should be easy to do but in action you found it far harder to do. That was why you were currently in the large and lavish kitchen, ‘Superheroes’ by the Script was blaring over the kitchen sound system which was attached to your phone. Your hips swayed to the music and you quietly sang along while mixing another batch of homemade chocolate chip cookie mix. The sweet aroma of the pervious batch baking filled the kitchen and easily wafted down the halls along with the sound of your music echoing your presence in the kitchen.

Your sweat pants rested low on your hips and your worn Wakanda University shirt covered your upper half your bare feet tapping along to the music while you sang unware of the intimidating presence in the doorway. The smell attracting the illusive Bucky Barnes and causing him to still in the door frame as he watched you. Normally the Super Soldier avoided everyone who was currently working on the project of his new arm unless he had to be fitted or test it. These people here weren’t his friends after all, T’Challa only helping because he realized the truth and how dangerous a heart of vengeance was.

You didn’t hear Bucky clearing his throat as he tried to get your attention since the music was too loud for you hear anything sort of yelling. After all it wasn’t like you needed to be on high alert despite what Sam and Steve thought. As a hand fell on your shoulder you released an uncharacteristic scream and grabbed hold of the only weapon you had, the wisk, and hit your supposed attacker eyes squeezed shut in fear. Really you wouldn’t be so paranoid if Sam and Steve hadn’t made you feel like you should be. Your (y/c/e) hues sprang open at the startled sound which came from the unknown assailant, the widened farther as you realized exactly who it was your pale lips opening to from a small ‘o’ as the blood rushed to your face your neck and cheeks flushing as realization set in.

“I’m so sorry Bucky! Sam and Steve just have me so on edge with all this training like they think something is coming. I’m not a fighter I’m just a scientist and….I’m babbling.” Was there anything more embarrassing? Realizing you had yet to drop the wisk which as left a doughy mess across Bucky’s cheek you found yourself beginning to laugh. Maybe it wasn’t wise to laugh at the Winter Solider but he was just Bucky Barnes now or at least he was trying to be. “I’m so sorry, it’s just you have…” You motioned to his face before bursting into laughter once more and taking his hand and leading him towards the sink. You could feel tense up and hesitate as you took his hand but he gave in and followed you to the sink like a silent sentinel. Dropping his hand you reached for the roll of paper towel and dampened them before gently wiping at his face.

“I really wouldn’t have hit you with a wisk if I have known it was you.” Sincerity filled your voice since you knew the hard time Bucky was having adjusting and allowing people in.

Bucky refused to meet your eyes his soulful and sad glacier like hues were trained on the floor as you cleaned the cookie dough off his stubbed covered jaw and cheek. “I did say your name and tried to get your attention but I don’t think you could hear me.” Bucky’s voice was low and not much above a whisper so you only caught a few words, one of which being music. A silent ‘oh’ falls from your lips as it clicks into place. Tossing the paper towel you used you make quick strides over to your phone and turn the volume down so it’s just a dull hum in the background.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you, (y/n) I was just following the sweet scent.” Oh! The cookies! At his words you bound towards the oven and grab the oven mitt to take the cookie sheet from the oven. Opening the heated oven you remove the sheet and place it on the stone countertop to cool. “Cookies?” Bucky asked while eyeing the plate of cooled cookies and the sheet of fresh from the oven ones.

The rose tint to your cheeks seemed to increase, “Yeah. After training I wanted something sweet, my sweet tooth was acting up.” It was a lame excuse but you weren’t ready to admit your nervous habits especially to Bucky Barnes. Though many it would make him feel better about his own insecurities if you shared a few of your own? Dragging your lower lip between your teeth you decided to explain, “Sam and Steve mean well but I think they forget I’ve not a soldier, I’m a scientist. This is the one place I should feel safe and I just attacked you with a wisk! The only reason I even have the wisk is I can’t de-stress and baking the only thing that calms me down and…” Your voice trails off as you see Bucky eyeing the cookies again. “Do you want to share the cookies with me? I can’t eat them all.”

Bucky gave a sad and sheepish smile and in that moment reality hit you. It had probably been over seventy years since Bucky had homemade chocolate chip cookies and even that was iffy since he had grown up in the Great Depression. The much larger man grabbed one of stools which rested under the kitchen island and sat his large frame upon it his elbow or his right arm resting on the countertop as you grabbed two glasses and filled them with milk before setting one in front of him and taking a drink from the other before scrapping the cookies from the sheet and putting three of them on a plate for Bucky before finishing the cookie dough you were working on before he came in and dolloping those onto a sheet as well and sliding them into the oven.

The two of you sat in silence as you both ate the warm and gooey cookies and drinking your milk. “You don’t have to be afraid here or of me. (y/n), you’re right, you aren’t a soldier and I can try to talk Sam and Steve into backing off a little. They’re just worried about what’s going to happen if anyone realizes we’re here, Steve doesn’t want anyone caught in the crossfire. This is all because of me.” There was a miserable tone to Bucky’s voice as he ran his right hand through his hair his prosthetic arm missing since he refused to use it until he knew he was the one in control.

The sorrow in his voice broke your heart and before thinking any better you reached over and wrapped your arms around his waist in a hug your chin resting on his shoulder. “Bucky this is because of someone who was so filled with a misplaced need for revenge that he lashed out. You may have done a lot of bad things in your past but you weren’t in control of yourself and you shouldn’t be blamed or blame yourself for things you didn’t do.” For a man so strong the Super Soldier was still fragile in a lot of ways.

You were surprised that Bucky didn’t move and for a few minutes he didn’t say anything either. The two of you sat quietly your arms around Bucky as he accepted the support. “Thanks but it was because of my actions as the Winter Soldier that we’re here now. Maybe once the team finishes me arm you wouldn’t mind training with me.” Bucky’s voice was unsure as he made the offer, hesitant and afraid of rejection but you couldn’t rejected him, you liked him even if he didn’t like himself.

Wow, I didn’t expect so many to follow or like my writing. Thanks so much this is an amazing boost that was sorely needed today! Stuck between working on the next part of Criminal or doing a cute one shot brought upon by the thoughts of baking cookies and a sheepish Bucky following the aroma.

Just a List of everything I’ll be working on.

Complete:

Cookie Talk:  While at T’Challa’s base in Wakanda you can’t help but take over the kitchen to make some cookies. Your day was hell while you trained with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers and baking is how you deal with things. One Shot

WIP:

Criminal (Series): AU where Bucky is part of the white collar crime division of the Brooklyn police and you’re a well known thief that he’s had in his sights for years but has never caught. What happens when you get in too deep and have to turn to the one person who’s been longing to lock you away for as long as he’s been after you?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

 Coming Soon:

Something Just Like This (series): Bucky x Reader. Set after CACW. You’re a psychologist specializing in reintegrating soldiers back into society. Having promised Captain America to do everything he can to help Bucky Barnes, King T’Challa hires you for when Bucky comes out of cryo. Sure the Soldier lived on his own after being released from Hydra control but that didn’t really count as living. If Bucky wants to be trust he’s required to accept your help.

Going Out Like That (One-shot): Bucky x Reader. Idea spurred by Reba McEntire’s song of the same title. Set pre-CACW, you and Bucky have been dating but he begins to push you away afraid of himself. To prove you don’t need him and you aren’t hurt you go out and have an amazing night or at least that’s the way you make it seem when you spot Bucky at the same bar.

Fake It (series): Bucky x Reader. Based on prompt #25 by mcuprompts. Reader and Bucky have very recently started dating and before they have time to tell anyone, the reader gets roped into a fake relationship with another member of the team making things hella complicated.

Part Two

Reading List: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

(Bucky x Reader) Summary: AU where Bucky is part of the white collar crime division of the Brooklyn police and you're a well known thief that he's had in his sights for years but has never caught. What happens when you get in too deep and have to turn to the one person who's been longing to lock you away for as long as he's been after you?

Word Count: 1736

Warnings: 18+, AU, language, threats, sexual innuendos.

A/N: Not much Bucky in this chapter but he will make an appearance in the next chapter in a very big way. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

It had been a month since the night you left your little taunt for Detective Barnes at the club. You weren’t exactly sure when he found it but within the next few days he was really trying to make trouble for you. The Detective was offering deals to fences, forgers and other thieves trying to get information about you, but of course no one was talking, after all there is honor among thieves whether people believe it or not.

The game of cat and mouse had escalated and you honestly found it to be a bit of a turn on. Who didn’t want a drop dead sexy man with access to handcuffs chasing after them? Besides from the stories you’ve heard Detective Rogers might be the good cop but Detective Barnes was definitely the bad cop. A few threats may have been made with the attempt to get information so of course someone was going to eventually cave, you just hadn’t suspected he had that in him.

Your first name, (y/n), was apparently one of the bits of information to make its way to Detective Barnes from someone under duress. To most normal people it might be terrifying the lengths he was willing to go to gather information on you, however you found it rather flattering. Apparently the man had dubbed it his personal mission to bring you down and you honestly haven’t a clue why. Everything you stole was insured and it wasn't as if the owner couldn’t live without it. Half the time it took longer than necessary for people to even realize they were missing their “prized” possession which they loved to show off to friends to reestablish their ranking in the social order.

You of course were passionate about your job so it only made sense that the person trying to catch and stop you would be passionate about theirs as well. You did have to wonder if Detective got bonuses on recoveries and bringing thieves in, at least then his obsession with you would make sense. Maybe you had stolen something from someone that he was acquainted with, the potential reasonings for his crusade were countless and you didn’t really care very much about the why it was just nice to have the attention of a stunning and brooding man despite the way it occurred.

Sitting in front of vanity in your room you ran a brush through your (y/c/h) the damp strands becoming detangled and cascading over your shoulders. Your cell phone began to ring and you reached over pressing your index finger against the cool glass screen to answer before putting it on speaker. “What can I do for you Dimitri?” Your voice was a smooth as honey as you answered one of your best clients of the Russian mob. For a moment he said nothing and that caused the fine hairs on your arm to stand on end since he wasn’t a quiet man and always knew exactly what he wanted.

The voice which greet you in return was in fact Dimitri’s but he began to speak in a hushed tone that you weren’t used to. “There’s a big card game going done in two days and it’s being held by the Irish, I need you to get into the game and sell the money that’s going to be held in the safe.” Your breath caught in your throat and the hairbrush nearly fell from your hands. You were accredited with far more thefts than you had actually done and never had you stolen anything from any of the mob families, only things for them because it opened up doors to favors in the future. This however was not a job that you could do and Dimitri of all people ought to know that.

“I don’t steal from the mob Dimitri, only for the mob when necessary. I know better than to shit where I eat and the Irish pay good money when they want something returned. I’m not going to risk my reputation over this. It doesn’t sound like you’re offering me protection and you know they will kill me if find out I stole from them.” You lay the hairbrush on the smooth wooden top of the vanity and tried to stop your hands from shaking from the mere idea of going against any of the mob families.

Stealing from the Irish was suicide and saying no to the Russians was an equally dangerous move to make but you had always made it clear you worked for how paid and wouldn’t steal from any of the mobs in the city. There were just some lines which shouldn’t be crossed and some risks you weren’t willing to take. “(y/n), you’re the only one who can get into that game without rising suspicion and we’re willing to offer you protection and get you out of the city once the job is done.” Dimitri was hearing your words but he wasn’t truly listening. “It’s just one job, (y/n) and it would set you up for life. Just think about it and I’ll call you tomorrow, if you don’t take this job you’re going to regret it.” There was a lack of malice in his voice and you could hear voice in the background which seemed to be coming closer. Did he mean you would regret in a mob retaliation way or in a you would regret turning down good money way? You weren’t sure since his voice gave nothing away. “I have to go.” There was a click followed by silence as you stared at your reflection in the mirror the shock evident on your features.

The next day when your phone range when Dimitri called you didn’t answer. You had made it clear the day before that you weren’t interested in the job in question, it wasn’t the type of job you took on and why he thought it was you weren’t sure. Normally when the Russian mob needed something you met with the head of the family but you had made friends with Dimitri and now things were often funneled down through him to save time.

The one single call was all you recieved so he must have gotten the point. Dimitri would find someone else for the job because it wasn’t going to be your body found in Brower Park. Even with the offer of protection from the Russians it was just going to start a mob war and no matter what Dimitri said you knew the Russians wouldn’t start a mob war just to protect you. The moment the job was done your life would be void and any future you may have had would be over.

Since Detective Barnes had been doing such a fluttering job on finding out about you today was all about finding out more about him. The illegally good looking team of Barnes and Rogers apparently had the day off and the two were playing a basketball game with some friends at the courts in Leif Ericson Park. You had the feeling the two men were more than just partners but also friends and their outing today proved it. Of course that was the farthest thought from your mind as you watched Detective James Buchanan Barnes run up and down the court shirtless in a pair of black and red basketball shorts. Even from this distance you were sure sweat was trickling its way down his face, caressing his jaw and sliding down his throat and over his chest before highlighting that deliciously sinful six pack he had.

Before, you had been attracted to the Detective by what little you could see of him but right now there were only a few things left up to the imagination and he could have easily had a career in modeling opposed to police work. Of course you had the feeling most people didn’t want to see a model with scarring along his shoulder and prosthetic metal arm but it just gave the Detective an air of danger. You vaguely remembered skimming a news article about a rookie cop a few years back who had sacrificed his arm for the safety of a little girl. Maybe it was time you find that article again and read the whole story because you were intrigued to say the least the sun glinting off the reflective surface.

Readjusting the designer Ray-Ban’s on the bridge of your noise you glance up at the bright sun which was slowly beginning to descend in the sky marking the end of the day. As much as you truly wanted to continue watching the two gorgeous detectives you knew the longer you stayed here the more of a risk you were running since Detective Barnes now knew what you looked like. There would be time enough in the future to observe him so you decide to throw in the towel for the day and return to your loft and just enjoy an evening in since you didn’t have any jobs planned for the next fews days and no recon to do. A bottle of wine and hot shower later you were curled under the fine Egyptian cotton sheets with a high thread count and teetering on the edge of sleep consciousness barely hanging by a thread. That’s when you heard sound of something heavy slamming against the front door of your loft.

Part One

Reading List: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: AU where Bucky is part of the white collar crime division of the Brooklyn police and you're a well known thief that he's had in his sights for years but has never caught. What happens when you get in too deep and have to turn to the one person who's been longing to lock you away for as long as he's been after you?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 981 Warning: No warnings this chapter.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing of this nature so please be kind. This chapter will probably be the shortest since I’m just getting my feet wet. This idea was brought on by ‘Criminal’ by Fiona Apple. I’m working on the second part but we’ll see how all of this goes.