Bullets and Brainpower

Petty Thief

A loud siren wakes me up, and I quickly push myself against the wall of the alley until the police car passes. I stay there for a minute, calming my racing heart, to make sure they aren't coming back. I slowly step away from the wall, looking around. It's already light out. I've been here too long. I grab my bag from the ground and slip on my brown leather jacket.

I walk out of the alley, looking around to make sure there's not anyone that would question a teenage girl living on the streets, and make my way down the street. I pull up the hood of my black and gold letterman jacket and continued walking, hoping not to attract any unnecessary attention.

After about ten minutes of walking, I come upon one of the best streets for someone like me. A thief, that is. There are four different apartment complexes on this street, and they're some of the most expensive places to live in Gotham. All the dumbest rich people live here and come and go as they please, and in the morning is the perfect time to catch the little snobs on their way to work. I grab the straps of my backpack and walk across the street.

A man walks out of a tall apartment building. I've never seen him before, but it's not like I actually pay attention to the people I pickpocket. Not like I'll ever see them again. The man is wearing a grey suit, and he has short, sandy blonde hair, not far off from my own. He pulls out his phone and looks at it. I walk toward him, pulling out a book and pretending to read it.

As I get closer to the man, he looks up from his phone and starts walking to his car, but I'm close enough. I "accidentally" walk into him and drop the book, slipping my hand into his coat pocket and grabbing his wallet.

"I'm so sorry, sir," I say. "I-I wasn't looking where I was going." He looks down at the book and smiles, bending down to get it. While he's distracted, I slip the wallet into my own pocket. The man stands back up, holding the book out to me.

"Not a problem," he says. "Better hurry. Don't want to be late to school." I smile and nod, taking the book and continuing down the street. I hear him muttering behind me. He probably reached in his pocket to get his keys and realized his wallet wasn't there. "Hey!" I smirked and start running. I hear him chasing me, but it doesn't matter. He won't catch me.

I turn down an alley and grab the fire escape ladder, pulling myself up and climbing onto the roof. I bend down by the ledge and look down as he runs into the alley. He looks around, wondering where I went. At one point, he looks up, and I duck to avoid being seen, not that it'd matter. I hear him walk away and pull out the wallet, checking to see what I scored; $120 and a credit card. Not bad.

~~~

Later that day, I sit on the stairs of some random theatre, eating a sandwich I snagged off a vendor and wearing the glasses I usually refuse to wear. Not like I couldn't have just used the money I'd just gotten off the guy this morning, but when it's just so easy to grab food and get away, it's like people are just begging to have a thief take their stuff.

I look around. Along with being useful in deciding who to con, people-watching is just entertaining in general. I look across the street and see two boys fighting in an alley. I look down the street and see a couple of kids stealing from an old woman. I look the other way and see a man and a woman walking toward me, probably heading to the theatre. Wait a minute, is that...

Aw, damn it.

It was the man from earlier.

I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose from where they'd started to slip (the struggle is real, y'all) and turn away, putting my book and sandwich in the bag and getting ready to run.

"Hey, kid!" I hear. I freeze and curse under my breath. "What're you doing sitting outside in the cold?" I don't say anything. "Kid!" I slowly turn around, and the man's eyes widen. "You!" I sit there, staring at him, for a second before grabbing my backpack and jumping down the stairs, starting to run. "Hey!" After a second--probably him apologizing to his lady friend--I hear him following me. I run a few blocks, surprised that I was still outrunning him.

After a while I pass a large group of people and turn down an alley, pinning myself against the wall. I see him run past and sigh. I turn to walk through the alley to the next street, but as I turn, I run into something. Well, someone. Startled, I fall onto the hard ground. Shaking my head, I look up at whoever knocked me over. Oh, hell no.

It's the woman he was with.

"Hey, kid," she says, smirking. "You lost?" I scowl, and she only smirks more as the man walks up beside her.

"Thank you, Barbara," he says. He looks down at me. "I'd say 'Good to see you again' but it's really not. Can I have my wallet back?" I say nothing. "Come on, kid. Just make this easier on yourself. Give me my wallet, and we'll leave you alone." I continue to remain silent. "Okay, I know you can talk, so now you're just being rude." I smile pettily.

"Sorry," I say. "Spent the money and threw out the wallet." He crossed his arms and smiled.

"Now, why do I not believe that?" I shrugged, standing up and brushing myself off. "Why would you see me and start packing your stuff up if you didn't have anything I could take back?" I sighed.

"You seriously have no comprehension of how a street rat thinks," I say. "I saw someone who could have a grudge against me, and I decided to try and play it safe. Better safe and empty-handed than sorry and in jail, or worse, the foster system."

"It can't be that bad."

"You've obviously never been there. I have, and I'd rather not go back. I may like to gamble every now and then, but even I know there are some bets you just don't take." He frowns, as does the woman.

"So that's what you're doing?" he asks. "You like taking risks?" I smile and narrow my eyes.

"You really have no clue, do you?" He looks confused, so I continue. "When you live on the streets, particularly in Gotham, you have to take risks, whether you like it or not because the choices are either lie, cheat, steal, and survive...or abide by the law and die." His face softened, but it was soon replaced by his normal stone-cold nature. His hand twitches, and it's then that I notice the badge, partially obscured by his suit jacket. He's a cop. I smirk, and he goes to say something but is cut off by a loud siren as a cop car drives by. He looks back at it.

"So..," I start, "you gonna go get 'em, or are you gonna let them get away and instead take in a fifteen year old girl?" He glares at me, glances at the woman, and I smile, walking backwards. "Well, folks, it's been fun, but I gotta head out. Hope to see you again, uh, never." I turn and run down the alley, climbing up the fire escape.

I do not own Gotham or its characters. I do however own Cassidy Alexandra, Ice, Gracelyn Ventura, and their plot, so don't steal. It's not nice.