#frestyle

He also noticed her as she was one of the cities most wanted, also his number one enemy. She had been placed on his case four weeks ago, and throughout those four weeks she had slipped through his grasp far too many times.

She pauses, dancing with another man raising his arm up and spinning herself, he chuckles, and they bow, and she raises one side of her dress again.

You sly fox.

Stealing. She was stealing from everyone, the man she had just danced with was now missing his watch, the woman before her her necklace, the woman before that her glasses. He follows after her silently, watching as she dances from person to person, he gets caught up by a girl, who he politely declines and hurries forward. He reaches her just as she’s about to unclasp a necklace and carefully grabs her hand.

“Hello there,” He smiles coolly, and she looks startled for all but a second before she looks coyly up at him.

“Hi,” this close you can see her freckles that dust her face gently. “Luke, this is my current dance partner, you don’t mind—?” She turns to her partner who politely shakes their head and suddenly they’re dancing together.

“What are you doing?” He sputters pulling her closer as she leans back.

“Dancing Luke, what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from robbing these people blind.” He whispers closely to her ear.

“You’re no fun,” she purrs and spins out of reach, he follows easily, and they fall back into step.

“And you’re wanted for arrest.” She rolls her eyes, raising her arm up pulling the side of her dress slightly up.

“And you’re missing your id.” She winks at him before taking off. He hastily pats down his pockets, smiling to himself before taking off after her, she leads them up a flight a stairs, and then up another.

“Where are you going Maria?” She turns her head back only for a moment laughing before hurrying up another flight of stairs. Her laugh was pleasant and it travels through the halls like a melody. He doesn’t falter, doesn’t pause for even a moment and soon they’ve both reached the top floor, and she’s pushed onto the balcony. But before he can grab onto her, she’s climbed the banister and pushed up onto the roof, dropping her flats down onto the balcony.

“You cannot be serious?” Luke barely manages to mutter. She runs her hands through her hair, pushing it off her face. She turns to look down at him, a coy smile on her face.

“Not your cup of tea?” She was mocking his accent, and she was doing it poorly. She reaches out her arms, climbing higher up onto the roof with easy balance and starts running.

“Oh for Christs—” He jumps up on the railing.

“You’re insane!” She laughs back at him, he still had his shoes on, she was doing this barefoot and for a moment he wanders if it was easier that way and if he could slide his shoes off without missing her.

“Just that Irish luck,” he says in a mockingly high Irish accent, her eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns. She had stumbled to the edge of the roof. It was bloody freezing up here the sound of the ocean and wind the only things that can be heard around them. She takes one look down and then looks back at him.

“Don’t you dare.” He echoes, she raises an eyebrow, swings her arms wide, and falls backwards.

For fucks sake.

“You stubborn, stubborn fox.” He smiles to himself before he shrugs off his dress coat in a matter of seconds, crouching down to kick off his shoes before dropping off the roof.

The water is even more freezing than the air. It’s rigid, and makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire, and when he breaks to the surface that feeling transports to his lungs.

“Hello there,” her accent was terrible.

“Hello.” He turns around spotting her, her chin was turned up, arms waving violently. He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t swim can you?” He asks. She splashes him.

“Not in a corset.” She spits out a bit of water, ducking under for a second. The shoreline was close by, her ship parked neatly on it.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Not my brightest hour,” she bites out a laugh her teeth chattering.

“Come’ere.” He reaches out for her; she was struggling and pushes against him.

“I can manage.” But she’s ducked under again and he reaches for her when she resurfaces.

“Come’ere.” He repeats and she reaches for him. They stay there, in the middle of the ocean, bopping up and down, her arms around his neck, his around her waist. “You need to be on my back if we want to make it back to shore.” He says after a while, she laughs into his shoulder.

“So you can arrest me?” He pauses for a moment.

“I’m not going to arrest you.” She looks at him then.

“Why?” She asks. He doesn’t have an answer for her and so instead he looks up at the moon, she follows his eye line. Slowly she loosens her grip swinging around onto his back, they laugh a little, her having almost fallen back into the ocean, and slowly, he swims them both back to the shore.

Sand was everywhere. He was exhausted and they were both on their backs the ocean gently climbing up to them every once in a while. The moon was only half full, beaming down at them softly. She turns on her side, her head leaned on both of her hands.

“Are you serious?” She asks, he turns to her then raising an eyebrow. “About not turning me in?” She was staring at him intently, with wide eyes. He reaches out to move her hair out of her face.

“I think I’d have to catch you first.” He says, and a smile breaks out across her face.