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Muffled shouting bounced back and forth from inside Shark’s office, making you curl up in your chair as you waited outside for your turn on the chopping block.
“Jeez. He’s fighting for his life in there,” you winced.
Yancy sat next to you, his legs outstretched and arms folded. He fiddled with a toothpick between his teeth – an attempt to stop smoking, or so he’d told you – seemingly unbothered by the situation the three of you were in.
“He’ll be fine. He’s clearly the boss’s favourite anyways.”
You huffed a small laugh. As much as you wanted to agree with him, you weren’t so sure Mark could swing this one. You shrunk further into your seat.
“Do we really have to do this one by one? Feels like I’m outside the principal’s office,” you sighed, clutching your arms.
Yancy chuckled under his breath and took the toothpick from his mouth, turning to you with a cocked eyebrow. “Can’t imagine yous ever needed to see the principal, Z. Yous way too much of a goody two-shoes.”
“Hey!” You protested, playfully punching his arm. “I’ll have you know I was sent to the principal’s office in middle school. Twice, actually.”
“You’re shittin’ me!” Yancy grinned, turning to face you fully. “What for?”
You felt your face heating up at the memories. “Once for skipping class when I hadn’t studied for a pop quiz. Another for… well, I was sticking up for this other kid who was getting picked on, so they turned on me instead. The principal didn’t see it that way though. All she saw was the bully on the ground with a bloody nose and me standing over him.”
Yancy laughed, throwing his head back. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the way you kicked my ass. So yous always had a thing for stickin’ up for the little guy, huh?”
You stared at him for a minute, feeling warmth bubble in your chest. Despite the lingering tension from last night’s failed heist, and the confusion between your feelings for Mark and Yancy tearing your mind apart, he still managed to make you flustered.
More shouting came from Shark’s office, startling you back to reality, and you took the opportunity to change the subject.
“Well what about you? You can’t expect me to believe you never got sent to the principal’s office.”
Yancy shrugged and looked off into the distance, a vague gloominess in his expression. “No, actually. I was a good kid in school. It wasn’t until later when things… went off the rails a little.”
He shook his head with a slight frown, his shoulders deflating. “Look, I’m sorry for losin’ my cool last night. I know I ain’t perfect, but… yous gave me another chance by givin’ me a way outta prison. I don’t wanna mess that up, but I’ll take the heat for whatever’s comin’.”
He looked at you, sadness furrowed in his eyebrows. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it gently across his tattoo.
“I appreciate it, but I think we’re all in deep shit. Shark won’t let us off the hook easily after last night. Besides… Mark’s probably the one you should apologise to first.”
Yancy huffed and rolled his eyes. “He don’t want no apology from me. The guy hates me.”
“He does not hate you. He just… he doesn’t get you.”
Yancy pressed his lips into a tight line with a steely gaze.
“Ain’t yous still mad at him for leavin’ you in prison?”
Nerves jolted through your stomach at his question. Your mind flicked back to your conversation with Mark in the storage closet, and the kiss he left on the top of your head when he found you by the lakeside.
“It’s… complicated. Look, whatever happens after this, please just try and apologise to him? For me?”
You squeezed his arm, which brought his attention back to your face. You smiled at him, and his eyes softened just a fraction.
“All right, fine. Only for you, Z.”
You exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Yancy. That means a lot.”
The door to Shark’s office swung open and both your heads snapped to the side. Mark walked out, closing the door behind him and turning to you. You leapt up from your chair.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Managed to wrangle desk duty for all of us for a little while,” he replied, combing a hand through his hair. “She wants to see you next, Zero. Then Yancy. Just to make sure our stories match.”
“How the hell did you manage that? It sounded like you were ready to kill each other in there.”
“Well, you know me. Mister Charisma and all that.”
He shot you a warm, confident smile, but his voice wavered slightly. You were about to wrap your arms around him in a hug when Yancy stood up and cleared his throat, approaching Mark.
“Mark…”
It occurred to you that this was the first time he’d actually addressed him properly. Mark straightened his posture, silence enveloping the three of you.
“Sorry for all the trouble last night.”
Mark looked at the floor, then back up again. “It’s okay. Forgetting the silencer was my fault.”
Yancy shrugged. “Yeah, but still. I’m sorry. Guess I got a little jea-reckless.”
Your eyes darted between the two gentlemen. Yancy held out a hand.
“We good?”
Mark blinked in bewilderment at the gesture, briefly flicking his eyes to you. He took Yancy’s hand with a firm shake, nodding his head.
“We’re good.”
Tension dissipated from your body. Maybe everything would work out after all.
Shark’s office door opened again and she stared at you with her icy blue gaze, cold as winter.
“Zero. In here.”
You gulped, stepping forward between the two men and into the office.
It was another thirty minutes until you were released from the lion’s den, muscles still tensed like a caged animal as you made your way back into the main office. You scurried to the coffee machine, ignoring Yancy’s eyes following your form as he pretended to busy himself over blueprints. Mark was stood leaning against Vakarian’s desk, throwing sad glances in your direction as he talked in a hushed tone. Vakarian nodded along to his words as he tightened a grappling gun with a screwdriver, swearing at the gadget occasionally. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. You prayed the ground would open up and swallow you whole, sweeping you away from the rumour mill.
The coffee machine whirred to life. You fixated on the brown liquid trickling into your mug, jaw clenching and unclenching as Shark’s words ripped through you.
“This is one more chance than you deserve. You’re lucky that Mark stuck up for you, or you’d be packing up your desk today.”
A shiver went up and down your spine, making your neck tense. You knew Shark had a flair for the dramatic sometimes, but her words still hurt. Tears pricked your eyes.
Before you could get too lost in thought, a tall figure bounced into your peripheral.
“Hey!”
Jasmine stood at your side, a panicked edge to her voice as her brown eyes scanned your face. Her ponytail was swaying from the way she’d darted from her desk over to you.
“Hey, Jazz,” you replied, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “We’re a little thin on the ground today, huh? Where’re Shrike and Gareth?”
“Out of town for a few days, I think,” she replied, but she didn’t let up. “Zero, what the hell’s going on? I’ve barely had chance to speak to you since the heist. Mark was a mess when he showed up without you, and then you came back with… who is that guy, his brother or something?”
“His name’s Yancy. And no, they’re not brothers,” you replied, cupping your mug in your hands for warmth.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and folded her arms, looking you up and down. Her lips pursed in thought, and her eyes were inquisitive, digging. You knew you couldn’t hide anything from her. Hell, you didn’t really want to – she was the closest friend you had at HQ, your confidant from day one.
You bit your lip, brow furrowing as more tears threatened to spill. Jasmine put a hand on your shoulder and gently nudged you towards the hallway, where the conference room was.
“Come on, let’s get some space and you can tell me everything.”
“Shark will be pissed if she doesn’t see me at my desk.”
“Fuck Shark,” Jasmine said a little too loudly. Mark and Vakarian glanced over in surprise. “She spends all day in her office until she needs something anyway. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. So come on.”
And tell her you did. Words poured out before you had a chance to filter what you were saying. You told her about the heist, how it started off with endorphins pumping but quickly dissolved into a disaster. You told her about the heartbreak of losing Mark and the surprise of meeting Yancy within a matter of minutes. The tear-filled argument with Mark about how he left you in prison. The euphoria at breaking Yancy out with the skeleton key and how he bargained his way into the group like it was nothing. And the museum, god the museum. Your head was spinning as that night resurfaced.
“I just…” you choked on more tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jazz.”
You sniffed, gripping your coffee in your lap.
Jasmine sat back in her seat with a sigh, eyes wide.
“I can see why,” she replied. “Two guys fawning and fighting over you in the span of… what, just over a week? When did your life become a shitty rom com?”
A smile started to creep onto her face, and you couldn’t help but return it as the absurdity of the timeline hit you. Soon, you were doubled over in laughter, tears still streaming down your face.
You took a deep breath and sat up straighter, the death grip on your mug loosening. You took a sip of the warm liquid.
“Look,” Jasmine leaned towards you, a gentle hand on your knee. “I know your head’s a mess right now. And Yancy? I get it, I really do. I have a thing for tattoos as well,” she chuckled. As your face dropped back into sadness, she tried again.
“It’s totally up to you at the end of the day. But… I’m not exaggerating when I say Mark was a total wreck while you were in prison. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. I’m not even sure he went home some nights.”
Your eyes met hers. Deep down you knew she wouldn’t bullshit you, but your heart still wrenched as you remembered the security footage, the way Mark sauntered off with barely a care in the world. Or maybe that’s just how it looked from your side… you weren’t so sure anymore.
“I just… fuck, I just don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
Jasmine waited in silence, her question hanging in the air like a thick haze. You were almost afraid to say what you said next.
“I don’t want to lose him. Or Yancy. But… I don’t know what I’ll do if Mark proves he was coming to get me. What… what happens then?”
Jasmine let out a low hum and lowered her head. More tears formed in your eyes, a lump rising in your throat.
“I guess you’ll have to make a choice.”
You scoffed, roughly wiping your tears with your palm and taking another swig of coffee. “I’m tired of making choices. Can’t someone else do it for once?”
Jasmine smiled. “If only.”
You sighed in unison. You felt like you were back outside the walls of Happy Trails again, two choices in front of you. But unlike then, the answer of what to do next didn’t come so easily. No matter how hard you thought about it, you stayed stuck there, rooted in the grass.
“I have to ask, though…” Jasmine began again, bringing you back to the room. “Is Yancy a good kisser?”
You blinked in bewilderment, stomach fluttering as you remembered his arms around you in the ballroom. A smile crept onto your lips-
Screech.
The two of you halted, listening.
The screech came again. Tyres on tarmac.
Then sirens.
“The fuck was that?” You hissed. You rose to move the blinds so you could peer out of the window, but Jasmine planted a firm hand on your knee.
“Stay down.”
Frozen in your spot, heart pounding, Jasmine carefully crawled to the door and cracked it open without a sound. Once you regained your courage, you followed her, dropping to the ground silently.
The hallway was empty ahead of you, and you could hear panicked, hushed voices from the main office and the sound of furniture scraping on the floor. At the far end of the hallway, Shark’s office was dark.
“Cops.”
Your heart dropped. “Shit, how did they find us?”
“No idea. But we need to get out.”
You wracked your scattered mind for another exit as you and Jasmine slowly crept down the hallway, stopping to duck under a vacant desk at the edge of the main office.
Bang.
“LAPD! Open up!”
“Fuck,” Jasmine’s breathing began an erratic pace as the main door bulged from its hinges against the desk that had been crudely shoved in front of it. She looked at you with wide eyes, like a cornered prey.
Something in your brain clicked.
“There’s a staircase to the roof near the gymnasium. If we can grab some grappling guns-”
Bang.
The noise made you jump out of your skin and you stifled a yelp.
“LAPD! We know you’re in there!”
“Jazz, we have to make a run for it.”
Words escaped Jasmine as terror took over, her face paling. It was unusual to see her with no confidence. It was up to you to take the lead.
You grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet as another resounding bang came from the door. The desk stayed planted, buying you some time.
“Come on.”
You sprinted across the office, Jasmine following you. As you passed Vakarian’s desk, you exclaimed in relief as you spotted the grappling gun still there. You grabbed it, but a strangled sob from underneath the desk caught your attention.
Vakarian was curled under the desk with his knees up to his ears, body shaking and eyes wide.
You held out a hand to him. “Vakarian, come on. We’re getting outta here.”
He looked at you like you were going to eat him alive, and shook his head. Jasmine stepped forward, a bit of colour back in her cheeks.
“Kieran, take my hand.”
At the sound of his real name, something changed in his eyes. He took Jasmine’s hand and stood up, still looking small and frail despite his tall frame.
That’s when it hit you.
We’re all just kids.
Well, not literally. But you certainly felt like it. Jasmine and Vakarian – Kieran – had been in this game longer than you. Long enough to know how to aim a sniper rifle, how to hack into almost any computer in the city, but clearly not long enough to know how to react when operations came crashing down. How many people like you had Shark taken under her wing and left in the dust when they were of no use to her anymore? More importantly, she was supposed to be your leader – so where the hell was she?
Another bang forced you back into action. “Down here.”
The sight of the door to the gymnasium brought some relief, but your stomach lurched with the resounding knowledge that two of your comrades were missing. Had they already fled and left you behind?
Before you could dwell on possibilities, a hand grabbed you from one of the unoccupied offices and pulled you inside. With a huff, you collided with the person’s chest.
“Zero, thank god, you’re okay.”
You looked up, relief flooding your face. “Mark!”
“It’s okay. We’re here.”
He gestured to his side as Jasmine and Kieran stumbled into the room. Yancy was pulling out an array of equipment from what appeared to be last night’s duffel bag. Unlike everyone else, his expression was completely calm. No trace of widened eyes, or scattered breathing. Just precision and calculation as he laid out equipment one by one as if he were counting pennies.
“You got everyone? Good job.” Mark looked behind him to Jasmine and Kieran. Jasmine didn’t know where to look, sending paranoid glances over her shoulder every few seconds as the banging continued. Kieran was still quivering.
“Yeah, but- where’s Shark?”
“I don’t know,” Mark responded. “She’s probably got her own escape plan. But I’m not letting anyone get left behind. Not on my watch.”
His expression was as firm as his words. When his eyes met yours again, a recent memory of that night in his kitchen resurfaced.
“This has happened to rookies before, Zero! But I wasn’t gonna let it happen to you!”
You gave him a grateful smile, tears threatening to form again, but you shook them away and laid out your plan.
“We can escape if we make it to the roof. But we need more grappling guns.”
“We already tried. Gymnasium’s locked.”
“Shit. Since when?”
“Guess boss lady started gettin’ a little paranoid,” Yancy chimed in with a dark edge to his voice. His eyes caught yours as he ran to the door. The distant banging was becoming more frequent. “Mark, that desk ain’t gonna hold forever.” His eyes landed on the grappling gun in your arms. “And we only got two grappling guns.”
“Shit,” Mark cursed. He grabbed the grappling gun from the table and headed into the hallway, the rest of you following him.
“You guys double up,” he said, handing a grappling gun to Kieran. “It can take the weight. It’s not a big drop anyways. Go straight up the stairs to the roof. Hook it on, get down, and get gone.”
Jasmine and Kieran didn’t need telling twice. The pair of them ran up the stairs and disappeared in seconds. Yancy grabbed your hand.
“Z. We gotta go.”
But you were rooted to the floor.
“Mark, what about you?”
Mark gave you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll find some other way out.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “You can’t be serious. We’re not leaving you.”
A final bang resounded from the office followed by the sound of clattering and hasty footsteps.
“LAPD!”
“And I can’t let you get arrested again.” Mark put a hand on your shoulder. “So please, go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Before you could protest further, violent shouts echoed down the hallway.
“Get your fucking filthy hands off me, pig!”
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “They got Shark.”
Mark’s eyes widened. Yancy tugged on your hand, but even he stayed put, listening.
“Loretta Simms, you are under arrest for burglary, conspiracy, theft, fraud, identity theft-”
“Fuck you,” she spat back.
You heard a slam, presumably as they pinned her to a desk and handcuffed her.
“Wait…” one of the cops began. “That’s not her name.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” One of them questioned back.
“That’s not her name. It’s Yvette Lawson.”
Yancy’s grip on your hand disappeared.
“Who?”
“The Cleveland Killer.”
Your blood ran cold. Mark’s mouth was agape in shock as you turned to look behind you.
Yancy seemed to turn into a child for a split second. His eyes were wide, disbelieving, lips quivering as words escaped him.
You heard Shark laugh darkly. “Surprised it took you guys this long to catch up. It’s amazing what you can achieve with some hair dye and coloured contacts these days. Even my own brother didn’t recognise me, dumb bastard.”
“Brother… holy shit. What was his name, Yancy or something? Where is he?”
Shark laughed again, manically this time. “He’s here too, you stupid fucks.”
In an instant, Yancy’s eyes darkened until they were almost black, his jaw solidifying. He spat out a singular word like venom.
“Motherfucker.”
He charged forward like a tornado determined, to destroy everything in his path. It took both you and Mark to hold him back, one of you on each arm as he thrashed and struggled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared like a wild animal.
“Yancy, stop!” You hissed, muscles crying out as you fought against him.
Yancy continued thrashing against your hold. “She ruined my fucking life! I can’t let her get away with that!”
“She’s not getting away,” you grunted, panting with effort. “They’re arresting her. Don’t let them do the same to you. Not again.”
Yancy stopped struggling and staggered back. His eyes caught yours, and you sensed his fear. You could only imagine what was going through his mind – another ten years behind bars, maybe more, with no chance of parole–
“They’re not gonna stop searching this place until they find him.”
The two of you turned to Mark. He was staring ahead as if he could see a thousand yards into the distance. His next three words were barely audible.
“There’s no time.”
Your breath halted. Mark turned his head to Yancy, a surprising aura of calmness creeping onto his face.
“People are always saying we look alike, right?” He asked, the ghost of a smile lingering on the corners of his mouth. You flicked your eyes to Yancy, whose brow was creased with confusion. Until something registered in his mind, and he started shaking his head.
“Mark, what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
Mark stepped towards him, the action in slow motion. He planted a hand on Yancy’s shoulder.
“Look after Zero for me.”
The puzzle clicked. Anger boiled in your blood, tears streaming down your face before you could stop them.
“Don’t you dare. We can still get out.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice cracked.
He turned to you, one hand cupping your cheek. He wiped a stray tear away, although his own eyes were bloodshot as he took in your face one last time.
“Visitation’s every third Sunday, right? Guess I’ll see you then.”
He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. As he pulled away, his eyes lingered on your lips for the briefest, sweetest moment, before he began to walk down the hallway. Away from you, and towards the fate he decided for himself. You watched on in horror, wrestling against Yancy as Mark raised his hands above his head and disappeared round the corner.
Yancy was still tugging your arm as sobs caught in your throat. Eventually your balance gave way and you fell into his arms. You knew you were fighting a losing battle, so you let him lift you up and guide you away. Tears blurred your vision as you climbed the stairs and slammed into the roof door.
The sun blinded you and wind rushed in your ears. Your breathing turned deep and erratic, the sobs escaping from your chest.
Yancy took the grappling gun from you and pierced it into a roof vent. “Come on, Z. Let’s get outta here.”
You inhaled shakily, barely managing a full breath. “We can’t leave him!”
“We don’t got a choice right now,” Yancy said, a hint of desperation in his tone. He led you to the edge of the roof, looping an arm around your waist. The wind pulled loose strands of hair away from their coiffed position and they danced wildly.
“Why did he do that?”
“Cause he’s a goddamn idiot,” Yancy grunted, but there was no malice to his words this time. “But he gave us a chance, and we gotta take it or we’ll be in the exact same shit he is. So come on.”
A final sniffle escaped as you hooked your arms around Yancy’s neck and secured your legs around his waist.
Seconds later you were scaling down side of the building, police sirens screaming in the distance and growing faint as you approached the ground. You thought about Mark being forced into the back of a police car and carted away, and your heart broke in two.
And so did something else above you.
You and Yancy looked at each other just as the tension in the rope gave way with a sickening snap.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
couldn't get the thought of heist duo speeding away from a heist set to 2000s pop music out of my head so I drew it (this is very rushed and I don't know how to draw cars well and I'm still sick so bear with me but. do you see the vision)
I was listening to About You Now by Sugababes on loop while doodling this lol
Summary: After a heist finally went well the two of you get to bask in the joy of it.
Warnings/Tags: Heist Mark being treated as a seperate character from actor, fluff, crackfic
Word Count: 430 Words
A/n: Another quick drabble! I wrote this in roughly 10 minutes.
It was shocking honestly, usually you and Mark would end up in some type of trouble during or after a heist every single time, but now? Nothing. Not even the smallest struggle, everything went smoothly just as planned. It made you suspect some type of karma catching up soon enough.
After a safe escape to base and no sign of the police being remotely near tho, you allowed yourself to relax, maybe it was just your lucky day. Besides you probably won't get much chance to worry about anything with Marks excitement. He was always a little reckless, so can't be surprised and it'd be a lie to say you aren't excited at the thought of everything going this smoothly.
For just a second he stopped his hectic movements and gave you that signature look, well every look he gave you was pretty easy to interpret by now. He had this very specific way of expressing himself that you'd gotten so used to reading it felt like second nature by now. You could still feel his eyes on you as you moved to the laptop standing on the kitchen table and started typing away.
You felt your eyes widen as you saw the amount people were willing to pay for the items you'd just stolen. What you could also feel was Mark gasping as he leaned over you to look at the screen. If you really manged to sell everything it'd certainly be enough to not do anything for a year at least…well let's make it 10 months with Marks spending habits, but that's besides the point. You guys really did it now, pulled off your greatest heist ever and secured yourself for a while. That was already enough reason to celebrate but Marks one of Marks arms wrapped around you in an almost choking grip as his free hand pointed at the screen, specifically a news article that just popped up.
"Robbery in city museum leaves police baffled - greatest heist of the last years?" He read the title aloud with childish excitement in his voice, while it was a very clear case of yellow journalism you aren't really planning on destroying either of your joy and instead wrap your arms right back around him.
Later that night half of the table was filled with the best takeout there is, after all you could easily afford it now, while on the other half you were already planning the next heist together.
Just because you could technically lay low for a while now doesn't mean old habits don't die hard.
