The city of New York City was always bustling with activity somewhere, be it Time Square and the massive crowds it gets or the local businesses and their loyal customers. There is always some type of activity within one of the biggest cities in the world. Even gang activity has been at an all-time high just due to the fact that the superheroes who have protected the city have all either been injured to a point where they can’t defend the city or it’s just too much for them. Regardless, the gangs have been reeking havoc for those in the lower projects, and that’s including the activity of certain thugs.

As trouble looms over all parts of New York City, the one place that hasn’t really seen trouble was Manhattan, that is until today. This is because the Bank of America located in the heart of Manhattan was about to get a rude awakening in the form of two nasty thugs. These two thugs indeed have names, but due them wanting their names to be kept quiet, their employers only address them as Inks and Fists.

Earlier in the day, Inks, otherwise known as Chris Connors, go a call from an old acquaintance of his that told him of a job that could promise big bucks for him, but he would have to work with one of the most notorious thugs in the world, a female. That call wasn’t what Chris wanted to hear earlier in the day when he woke up from his run-down apartment in the Bronx, but he did need money and he wanted to get out of his shitty-ass apartment, so he took the job. He wouldn’t have expected his partner to be so…hotheaded. Regardless, he would do this job knowing that he wouldn’t have to look at his partner again. Though, if Chris were to be completely honest with himself, his partner isn’t all bad to look at.

In front of the bank, there was a parked SUV, black in color. In the passenger seat, there was Chris and in the drivers seat was his partner. They were about to make their move. It would only be mere minutes.

“You ready?”

The morning had started much as every morning did. She woke up, she got changed, she jogged, she got undressed, she had a shower, and she fell asleep again. If it wasn’t for the obnoxious ringing of her phone, Bethany, or Inks, would have probably stayed in bed for another hour. At first, she thought it would be one of the many schmucks who she’d blown off recently: clingy people or stupid people or annoying people or people who just didn’t know when the fuck to get off her back. Instead, it was the only man that wasn’t her dad she didn’t mind hearing from.

It was Mr Payday himself.

She had a job, apparently. New York based, which made a nice change from having to leave the city, a two man heist of a bank or some shit. Apparently, there was some juicy loot and the heroes were all distracted or something. Maybe they were in Asgard or some shit, who knows. The cock-sucking goody-squad could all go piss off someone else.

Except Stark: If he felt like sweeping her off her feet, she wouldn’t complain too heavily. Same story for the hot-chick who ran the X-men after Xavier croaked. What was her name again?

Getting back on track, she got the name from Mr Payday of the guy she’d be cracking the bank with. Someone called ‘Fists’ or something. Didn’t matter to her, she’d be rid of him soon enough. Get job, get paid, and maybe get laid. It was a good plan really, time to see if the new guy would screw it all up.

A few hours later, Beth was dressed up in a bland looking pair of loose jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt with the slogan ‘Fuck you’ written on it: again, loose as she could get it. She didn’t want people guessing her weight or her height, as it gave people info they could use: fuck that. She’d seen a guy get busted because he wore his favourite watch on a job. She was way too smart to fall for something like that. She burned any clothes she wore on a job, after the job.

Sitting in the black SUV, next to the guy she was working with, she couldn’t help but try and size him up a little. She didn’t know how to start a conversation with a guy who called himself ‘Fists’ and who robbed banks for a living. “So uh…How’d’ya get the name ‘Fists’? I hope that ain’t a trademark or some shit. ‘The fister strikes again, leaves a gaping hole in the bank and the bank clerk.’” She laughed at her own joke, but when he didn’t really laugh along with her, she just put her headphones over her ears and ignored the grumpy fucker. Fuck him and his prissy hair!

She pulled up outside the bank, and the pretty-looking Fist-fucker decided to speak up. Asking if she was ready. “Shit man, I was born ready. I’m a professional, we go in, we make noise: you break the vault and we get to waltz on out of there, richer and without any blood spilled.” She reached into a glove box and pulled out a mask for herself and him, as well as her handy-dandy P9 pistol. She pointed the gun at Chris half-hazard, not having even turned the safety off yet. “Just don’t fuck up. K?”

Pulling the mask on, Bethany stepped outside of the car and strolled up the steps of the bank without a care in the world. She pushed open the door and, to the surprise of a security guard, planted her shoe into his temple, knocking him the fuck out in one hit. After that, she shot her gun in the air twice, hearing a few screams before she began shouting. “Everyone sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up! We are robbing this place. Clerk-ee, get the fuck away from the counter right now before I blow your motherfucking head off: you great dopey whore.”

As he sat in the car next to his partner on this job, he was already getting the impression that this woman was exceptionally loud, vulgar, and way too open about her thoughts. It was both in the way she presented herself and also the way she addressed certain things. Chris definitely knew that being partners with her would have to be only a one time thing.

Then she asked about his nickname. Chris laughed. “That’s a story for another time.” He simply said.

As they both prepared to enter the bank, they both put on their masks and Chris got his tool box. This wasn’t your ordinary tool box. Usually, tool boxes have hammers and the like in them, but in this tool box, there are special toys for thieving. Chris didn’t really have the need for a gun, but as he had the tool box around his back with two straps like those of a backpack, but more sturdy since the box itself was pretty heavy. It probably weighed about fifty pounds or so. Usually that’s pretty damn heavy, but Chris works out a lot, so he’s able to carry it without it slowing down his normal waling and/or running speed that much.

As they entered, his partner who he would simply refer to as girl opened up the dialogue with a rather vulgar statement. Pretty much she expressed their intentions. “Really now? You think they didn’t get the idea by us coming in so suddenly?” Chris made a sarcastic comment as she while she was in the midst of insulting the clerk. “It’s clerk, not clerkee.” Chris said correcting her.

Chris stepped up and through his mouth piece, there could be seen a smile. “Okay, listen sweetheart.” Chris said looking at the clerk’s name tag. “Laura, is it? That’s a pretty name. Okay listen, no one is going to die, cause you see my partner here is going to CALM HER TITS!” Chris said as he leaned on the counter and also looked towards his partner, expressing his disapproval of her methods. “Now, just be calm, and walk away, kay?” Chris calmly said.

The clerk nodded as she moved her petite blonde self away. “Now, go show me the safe, will ya?” Chris said. “And try to be nicer, wouldn’t you?” Chris said to his partner, hoping that she wouldn’t fuck anything up.

If it weren't for the mask, Pretty-boy Chris would have seen Beth's mouth hang open in surprise at the sudden nutting-up. Did Fisty-Mcgee really just tell her to 'calm her tits'? In the grand scheme of things, she was perfectly calm: rationally calm, even. She'd shot in the air, she'd made sure the clerk hadn't pressed the police button. Instead, the asshat had decided it was best to act like the good guy or some shit; maybe flirt with the blonde bimbo and bust a nut in her sorry ass?

She grumbled under her breath as she turned to the crowd and started patrolling around, making sure none of the hostages decided to play hero. It wasn't exactly unheard of for a new yorker to have a gun stashed away in his crotch or some shit. "Hope she has the clap, you dumb fuckwit." She called back to Chris, not really caring for the man or his sense of bravado. She wouldn't have to work with him after today, after all: he'd get the goods, she'd lose any heat in the follow-up getaway, and then they'd split the cash and not have to deal with each other any more.

Already bored of the patrolling, Beth decided to open up the security booth and pull the unconscious security officer out of the way so that she could take a seat. Inside was a number of cameras, and she decided to watch Fist-o's progress through the bank: blonde bimbo just in front of him. "What do people even see in a woman like that: fake tits? flat ass? I bet she does the limp fish in bed, too." She grumbles under her breath as she looks around the other cameras, making sure there wasn't any surprises on the way. She was a little shocked that she couldn't see any other security guards yet: and a thought crossed her mind: how come this place didn't have any cameras in the john?

All things seemed to be going according to plan. The plan was to get in, kill nobody, get to the safe, and get the stash. So far, half of the goals set have been met. Now it was just for the other two and the last two were all counting on Chris. He had a good chance of fucking it up, but he also had a good chance of succeeding and making this the best job he has ever worked. He knew he would have to get to the safe pretty fast. He was with the blonde clerk, and they were heading down the stairs as it turns out the vault/safe is a few flight of stairs down. It didn’t take Chris and Laura long to get down to the level where the vault was. That’s where he stopped her.

“Okay, not that I want to, but--” Chris was going to say, but then Laura spoke.

“Please, I’ll do anything for you. Want me to suck your cock? I can do that if you want. Or maybe you want to fuck me? I don’t mind.” She was pleading and pleading.

Chris smirked and laughed a bit. “Laura, you’re hot and all, but you’re not really my type.” Chris said laughing just a bit. “But, you do talk a bit too much, so I’m going to tie you up, and if you stay quiet, you’ll walk away untouched.” Chris said with a rather calming and very persuasive tone.

Just as he said, Chris tied Laura up with some rope he had in his very big box. He also gagged her mouth with some towel. It was tight enough so that she couldn’t squeeze out of her constraints, but not so tight that it was hurting her hands or making her lose oxygen, which is how Chris prefers it. He hates the noise and would rather not have any deaths while he is doing a job. Some might call that weak, but he calls it a good day.

Chris worked on evaluating the vault, seeing what kind of model and make it is, and seeing how thick the steel runs. As he takes some tools out of his Thief’s Box, he pulls out three things. First, he takes out a few things of C4. It will ensure that whenever he decides to blow shit up, that it will be enough to just get the vault open. Second, he pulls out his skeleton key, which is a common item used to unlock anything, given one knows how to work with it in the right way. The final item is a stethoscope. Yes, the one doctors use. It’s a common thing used for thieves. Though this one has several parts that connect. One part of it is the actual head piece that connects to an electronic that acts as the turning agent(think of locks on household safes). Then connected to that is the actual part of it that doctors use to pinpoint heartbeats. However, this will tell Chris where the weakest part of the Vault is.

Chris has started the process. First he uses his extended stethoscope to find the weakness within the steel. It takes about five minutes, but when he does, he smiles. “Okay, now this.” Chris says as he goes into his box and gets a drill. It’s like any other kind of tool, but the metal part itself is one of the hardest metals one can buy anywhere: Titanium. Carefully placing the drill against the metal of the vault, he turns it on at low speeds at first just to get it started, and as the drill goes in, he ups the speed just a bit more. It gets to the point where an almost full three-foot hole is drilled into the five feet of reinforced steel of the vault. Now, Chris takes the drill out, puts it back in his box and then takes out a few things needed to use the C4. Attaching it to some wires that are connected to a remote controller, he does so, inputs the C4 right into the hole, and does a few necessary steps to ensure it works. First, he takes Laura, he grunts at the force of Chris’ strength, and he slightly throws her away from the vault. Now, in his right hand, Chris has the remote and with the push of a button..

*BOOM*

As the C4 exploded, smoke surrounds the vault, bits of dust coming from the ceiling. Chris coughs as does Laura. The smoke clears after a few minutes, and Chris sees that it worked. The vault is open and as Chris goes inside, there’s no money. Nothing, but an artifact and some jewels.

“Well ain’t this just peachy..” Chris says. He takes his phone and calls up Beth. “You better get down here. You may want to see this.”

Watching Chris' progress gave Beth at least something to do as she leaned against her palm, already bored with the fact that she was now on people watching duty. It was hard to think that bank heists could ever be boring but eventually: you had to realise that 90% of a good heist was just watching the scared people and making sure they didn't do anything stupid or heroic. The other 10% was the fun stuff: the guns, the car chases, the getting paid and the occasional banter you got with the actual career heist guys: The ones who had funny stories and cool attitudes and aliases that didn't sound better on a porn star.

Glancing down at the camera again, she saw Fist-o and the blonde bimbo make their way down to the vault itself. She had a view of the top of the stairs, but that was it: no camera underground. The whole bank set up had her wondering what kind of schmuck installed the camera system, because there were more gaping holes in the CCTV's infrastructure than Beth had imaginative ways of saying 'go fuck yourself.'

Either way, Beth found herself bored with looking at nothing on the cameras, so she decided to take a tour of the peons. As she stepped on by, most of them shirked away from her, as if moving back a couple inches might make them invisible to the small woman who knocked the security guard into next fucking week with a single blow. She sat down in one of the bank's many benches and just looked at one particular hostage: a kind-of-yummy looking schmuck, if not for the 'Oh-shit-please-don't-kill-me' look in his eyes: nothing was less sexy than a pussy. "Hey, hey numb nuts."

The scared looking guy glanced up at her, managing to squeak out a "W-what?" before his voice cracked.

"Be honest with me, who is hotter, the blonde bimbo cash clerk or me? I promise not to shoot you if you're honest."

The man seemed to pause, confusion replacing terror for a second. "I-I couldn't say. You've got a mask on, so I can't...be...sure."

Beth rolled her eyes under the latex mask, annoyed at the answer, but not faulting it. "Fine then: would you fuck the bimbo?"

"Uh..."

Beth looked down at him, mask's gaze fixed on him in something close to disapproval. "Don't pussy foot me whateveryourname is. I want a real fucking answer."

"I...I guess I would? She's pretty hot."

Beth muttered something under her breath, before she got to say anything more, a large boom seemed to echo through the bank itself, telling Beth that Fist-o had begun to actually pull his weight. Beth was ready for the man to hurry up and bring the loot, but the job phone began buzzing, and she felt like punching someone.

She answered the phone, listening to the words of Fist-o with a growing annoyance. “Are you fucking kidding me? I expected you to waste my time by fucking that whore you got down there, not like this. I swear: if shit starts going wrong when I get down there, it is so on you.” Cutting the phone off on her end, the driver grumbled down the stairs as she suddenly felt a desire to punch something…anything would do.

Two minutes was all it took for the figure of Beth to appear in the doorway to the vault, mask taken off because of how uncomfortable the fucking thing was. She looked at the tied up blonde bimbo with a smile, and then turned back to Chris. “Glad to see you had the balls to actually shut her up, fist-o. Now why did you call me do-“

Suddenly, the woman was silenced as she spotted the rather large looking artefact inside the vault: and nothing else. She looked over at Chris with an annoyed look on her face. “So this is what we are after? Seems a pretty fucking bizarre thing to hire us for, not that I’m complaining.” Walking forward, she decides to get a closer look at the artefact, as well as the odd little jewels on the floor. She reached down and picked up a particularly big blue gem: cold to the touch and glowing like a piece of ice.

She held the gem, mesmerized by the glow of the gem as she idly touched the artefact. As soon as her hand connected with the box, something strange happened: a little blue flash and a sudden sensation of cold shooting up her arm had her recoiling in shock, stepping away from the box in a moment of scared terror. During that same moment of terror, the lustre of the blue gem seems to fade a bit, as if empty.
“The fuck?!”

It was just in that moment that a noise scared the living shit out of her: the sound of an alarm buzzer being set off. Someone upstairs must have gotten behind the clerk’s desk and pressed the big red button. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Now we have the fucking 5-0 to deal with, as well. Fucking fantastic: all because you feel the need to show me your box.” She wraps a hand around the edge of the artefact, trying to lift it but finding it just a little too heavy. “Fuck me. Grab that red gem and the box limp dick, we need to go, now.”

Hearing every word that Beth had to say to the matter of the empty safe, Chris just shoot his head as she pretty much just went off on him, saying shit like if it went wrong, then it would be on Chris. Yeah, like he is to blame for the emptiness of a safe that had nothing in it probably months prior to them even getting the job. Still, the emptiness of it confused him. He couldn’t help but wonder why such a professional safe would only house an artifact a few gems. Surely there was some significance to it. Even more so, the person that hired them never gave a name, but did wire a lot of money into Chris’ offshore account. Yes, this definitely puzzled him.

It took all but a little two minutes for Beth to get down to where Chris was. She was just as interested in the emptiness of the safe as Chris was. It would be only a few seconds to which both Chris and Beth were in the safe, masks off. Oh how it felt good to get the sweaty, black ski mask off of his face. When he did end up taking it off, the sweat gathered around his head, and his hair was so sweaty that it was aligned perfectly on his head, but dripping in sweat.

The two of them examined the artifact and gem-like stones on the ground. While Beth made note of the artifact and how this was what they were hired to get, the thought on the forefront of his mind was why did it look like that someone was in the safe and that they only seemed to touch the gems? Chris just couldn’t help but think there’s more to it.

While he was thinking about that, a lot of shit happened in the minute of him zoning out. First, Beth picked up the blue stone and she seemed to get a shocking reaction to touching it, and then, the alarm went off. “Fuck.” Chris knew what it was, and Beth pointed it out. Someone pushed the police alarm on the floor up.

When Beth was just going on about how Chris just HAD to show her the box. “Now’s not the time for this. You can bitch and whine at me later. Now, we got to find a way to get out of here.” As Chris said that, he picked up the red stone, which had a similar glow to that of the blue stone. As he touched it, he felt a burning sensation, which caused him to drop it. “Da fuck?!” Chris was surprised, that’s for damn sure. Why the fuck would there be a burning feeling in a stone? Chris was just even more confused than he was previously.

Hearing the rest of what Beth said, Chris agreed, but how would they get the hell out of dodge? They can’t go out the way they came. The police are already outside waiting for them and it’s not like they can go through the metal. Chris sat down on the cold ground. “Damn it, this sucks!” He said as his fists pounded on the ground and then something happened. There was a literal hotspot where he punched at. It was very slightly, but the metal of the safe in which Chris punched first had a reddish-orange heat look and then it melted in the shape of Chris‘ fist. “What the fuck!?” Chris said astonished, and utterly surprised.

“Inks! Give me your hand!” Chris said as he pulled Beth’s arm. “Get mad and punch the ground. I think these stones somehow are magical.”

At first, Beth was contemplating how she might be able to get to the car in time, when suddenly Fist-o decided it was a good time to grab her arm. The sudden urge to plant a fist into the bridge of his nose was growing more intense than she thought possible: and she felt her hand ball into a fist when she looked over at the man. An imaginary flash of his pretty-boy face with a broken nose was an intoxicating prospect, and the only thing that stopped her was a sensation of heat. Looking down, she saw that a fist-sized hole in the metal was forming, leaving molten traces of the steel in its wake.

“Okay, what the shit?” Beth looked at the man, only catching the back end of what he said about the orbs giving them both powers. She paused in confusion, looking at the dull gem that was rolling about on the floor. Did these little gems really give them both powers? She shrugged, before deciding to try and follow Fist-o’s train of thought. She inhaled and then exhaled, punching the ground in expectation of something awesome.

All that followed was the painful crunch of Fist against steel. She felt something break and instantly swore in anger and annoyance. “Fuck! That hurt! What kind of stupid fucking idea was it to have me punch the fucking bottom of a fu…” She stopped mid rant when she noticed what had broken. Her arm smarted a bit, but covering her entire fist was a layer of crystalline ice.

“…Oh.”

She looked at the gem, then at the box, and finally at the ice on her fist and her partner in crime. “Okay, I’ve got an idea. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think we are going to be stuck together for a while, so…I need your help.” The words felt like venom off of her tongue: having to trust a man she barely knew was scary as shit. Trusting anyone was scary, this went against everything she knew.

She touched the ground for a moment, and tried to recreate the emotion that made her voodoo, ice bullshit work last time, and in a moment, she was able to create a thick wall of ice, a few feet tall and a dozen inches thick. She withdrew her gun and placed it point blank against the block of ice, before firing: The bullet barely made it a couple inches through. “Okay, here is the deal. I’ll make us a moving shield: you blast the 5-0 with fire and carry the chest. If we make it to the car, hey-ho: we’re home free: Sound good?”

Without waiting for him to agree to the plan, she pulled her mask back on and started stomping up the stairs. All of her anger at the fucked up situation had changed into a strange state of confusion. She was suddenly spouting out Ice like a bad ass, and for some reason, the prospect unnerved her more than it excited her. She had read about people with these sorts of powers: Mutants, super heroes, super villians and shit like that. She’d never pictured herself as one of them.

At the top of the stairs, Beth spouted out her first wall of ice, a thick block of the stuff that reached from the floor to a few inches taller than her. It was a thick old block of ice, and she knew that the block should weigh a tonne: yet when she touched it, it seemed so damn light! She grasped the block of cold like a shield, and started marching forward.

She turned to shout down the stairway, uncaring for the cops that were likely staring at a giant, moving block of ice. “Calling captain tiny-dick: Are you bringing the box or not?” She heard the first gunshot and yelped as a dull thud connected with the block of ice. In the same way as below, the bullet harmlessly thudded against the block of ice, which then seemed to cover over the hole with even more ice. She grinned at the feeling of safety and power. “Holy shit, this is awesome.”

Chris knew that his partner would be hesitant at first. Hell, even as he said what he just said sounded crazy both inside of his head and out from his mouth, but it was something that was just crazy enough to not only believe, but to be true. He somehow convinced her to follow his idea. While she did yell out in pain from the initial punch, eventually, as she was about midway of her rant about how stupid of an idea it was, she saw what Chris was talking about. Granted, it was the complete opposite of what he had, but it was the same thing. She had Ice, which contrasted with her personality. It was the same with Chris.

“Yeah, now you see what I was talking about.” Chris said as he got up. When he did, he heard what Beth’s idea was. It was stupid, it was idiotic, but fuck it probably was their best bet. If they were to go at the safe and go out through that way, it would take them hours and just how tiring that would be Chris doesn’t want to find out. Plus, he’s got a bit of built up anger from the lack of a score, so Chris is all for Beth’s plan.

Soon, after she went out up the stairs, and to the exit of the bank, Chris would soon follow as he would have the artifact in hand. The artifact itself was light. It was dense, but it didn’t weigh as much as it looked. It probably was around twenty pounds, but Chris had lifted something much heavier than that and for much longer. As he came to the surface, he just came in time as he heard Beth call him Captain Tiny-Dick, which was funny, cause he has a pretty large dick.

“I’m here, and..” Right when he was about to finish that, he saw the wall of ice she created. It was mighty impressive for just figuring out that she had powers. Then again, Chris doesn’t know how much he can do. Perhaps he should just try and see.

As he followed her lead, Chris held the artifact-box thing in one arm, and as he focused his newly-found powers, he came to the surprise that his entire arm was a circling inferno. “Well this is new.” He said as he looked at his arm, surprised and perhaps a little drunk with the power. “Hey dumbass, duck!” Chris said as he jumped off the ice block that Beth had created and extended his arm outward in a vertical way and a fiery blast wave of fire power was launched at the cops. In the pathway, everything was burned in a straight, ten feet cyclone. The result was complete mayhem as the cop cars directly in the path of the blast were instantly engulfed in fire and the force from said fire pushed the cars back, either killing innocents and the cops or injuring said innocents and cops.

Chris landed in front of the Bank. “So, unless you want to have more fun, perhaps we should go now?”

Beth had to admit, she was surprised by how crazy that Chris had gone with his powers. The display in front of the bank was a veritable scene of carnage: burning cars and fiery infernos and a whole lot of screaming people. She didn't feel too comfortable with that last part: getting the innocents caught up in this brought more trouble than it was worth: Bank robberies get the local detectives in, where as murderous bank robbers called in the big guns. Now they'd have to worry about shit like the FBI and possibly some capes.

"Shit..." the thought was enough to leave a bitter taste in Beth's mouth, and she turned to look at Chris-Fist-o before she paused. Something was moving in the doorway of the bank: A security guard had his pistol drawn and prepped. The weapon was pointed at Chris, from behind: while the fire starter bragged about the 'fun' of the situation.

The sound of the gun shot was scary: Time seemed to slow as the bullet exited the barrel...and got no further. Ice formed around the bullet, and encased the gun, and then the entirety of the security guard's arm. Soon enough, the guard was a block of ice, frozen in a killing snarl. Beth was about to say something, when she seemed to almost collapse. The entire block of ice in front of them shattered into nothingness as Beth seemingly couldn't maintain it anymore.

"H...H'okay. That's exhausting." She felt drained by that last icy-trick. Seems like more precise stuff drained her more than the bigger, broader stuff. She tried to call upon her new icy powers again, only to find herself lacking. "...and I'm out of powers: Son of a bitch."

She looked over at Chris, no doubt affected by the fact he'd nearly been shot. "Yeah, lets not piss about anymore hotshot. We don't want to be here when the heroes hear about two super-powered bank robbers: especially ones that set a bunch of innocent people and the pigs on fire." She started to walk past Chris, moving towards the van with a sour look on her face. Losing that little taste of power already was pretty saddening. What the fuck had even caused it?

She reached into her pocket, pulling out the blue gem from the vault. It was starting to glow again, already. something to do with the box? Not sure of what was really going on, Beth pocketed the Gem, before opening the Van's back door and moving into the front seat. "So I'm gunna drive us both back to my place. We need to figure out what the fuck is going on, and I don't trust a quick-shot knucklehead like you to not get yourself caught. Any objections? Because if you have 'em, you can call 1-800-eat a dick, i'm driving."

Chris felt drained.

Chris felt tired.

Chris felt like shit.

After using that last attack, Chris was all but drained of any fire power that he had. While he held the box/artifact in one hand, he was just waiting for Beth to follow his lead. He didn’t even notice there was a security guard had a gun shot at him. He heard the gun being fired as the loud boom put a strain on his ears, but he didn’t get shot. When Chris would look behind him, he saw ice. She saved me. That’s odd. Chris surely didn’t see that coming, but perhaps she wasn’t saving him, but maybe she was just hoping not to get caught or something like that. Whichever the case, Chris and Beth went to a white van.

As they were at the van, and all the while, Chris put the artifact box in the back of the van, and he pulled out the gem. It started to glow. “Well, this is odd.” He said as he just put it back into his pocket. Whatever mystical items these gems were, Chris definitely had some vague ideas of what they could be. He definitely knew they were connected to the artifact, but how was the million dollar question.

Hearing Beth saying she was driving, Chris had no objections. He got into the passenger’s seat, and off they went from the scene.

When they would be driving down some roads, Chris was just perplexed by these gems. “Say, Beth, what exactly do you think these gems are? Surely they aren’t from this world.” Chris said, asking about the gems. His first thought was some Doctor Strange type of shit, but that was way out there. Chris definitely had no idea, but he was intrigued.

Beth wasn’t sure of what to think about Chris’ questions. Did he generally think that she had an answer? “I don’t know what the fuck they do. I’m a driver, not an artefact nerd.” She leans back into the driver seat, relaxing a bit, despite the growing feeling of exhaustion. She seemed to be looking for something as she drove.

After turning a particular corner, she slammed her foot against the brakes and brought the van to a stop. Opening the door, she looked over at Chris and nodded. “We’re switching to a car: Standard stuff really, you should go grab the artefact.” She reaches into the side of the van and pulls out a set of keys, as well as something she kept hidden. She stalked over to a much smaller vehicle than the van: A hatchback car, which she then opened the boot of.

Waiting for Chris to take the artefact and put it in the car, Beth walked over to the original getaway car, before pulling out the grenade. She pulled the pin and chucked the grenade into the car, before walking over to the new getaway car without a care in the world. The satisfying sound of a very loud explosion rocked out from the van, as it was blown apart and set on fire simultaneously. “God, I love this job.”

Sitting back into the driving seat, she looked over at Chris, feeling much better in a real damn car. “So here is my plan, we get back to my place: I get talking to a contact of mine, we figure out what the hell that thing is, and we take it from there. Got a problem with that train of thought, Fist-ee?” Not waiting for an answer, she put the car into gear and did a quick 180 turn, going down a different street and driving past the desolated van without a care in the world.

After ten minutes of driving, Beth pulled up in front of an above average sized house. It looked reasonably private, and could have easily been confused for a family home. At the front, a rather expensive looking 4x4 was parked. “This is where we’ll be crashing. Pick a room that isn’t yours and get comfy.”

Even thought he didn’t get an answer from Beth, he did keep on wondering about it. Chris just wanted to know where these artifacts came from and how exactly they came to be in that particular safe. Like, who or what put them in there? Why were he and Beth the ones to find the gems and the artifact? These were the questions that Chris had on his mind, but he would put them to rest as Beth would turn a corner as she drove the care and slammed on the breaks. Chris was pushed forward a bit, but his seatbelt prevented him from going straight out the window.

When Chris came to from the whiplash, he heard Beth tell him that they were switching cars and that he should go grab the artifact. It was standard percedure when it came to heists. To prevent from being found out, the criminals must switch vehicles. Chris was used to this routine. So, as Beth would go to the other car, Chris opened the back of the white van, took the artifact, and placed it under his left arm, supporting the bottom of it with his hand. As Chris would get the artifact into the car, he heard a loud boom. Chris didn’t look until he saw the van on fire. “Give me a heads up when you’re going to do that next time, won’t ya?” Chris said slightly annoyed.

As they were in their new getaway care, Chris had thusly put the artifact in the trunk of the car and they were off in the car and away from the scene. When Beth started driving, she told Chris about the plan. As he listened, she pretty much told him that they were going to go to her place and she would talk to a contact of hers to help fill in some of the blanks about the artifact and the weird gems. Chris just let all of that sink into his memory as he just acknowledged all of it with a nod.

About ten minutes of driving in the new car, they pulled up to a somewhat nice-looking house. It definitely gave Chris the impression that it was some kind of family house. Chris wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it. To think, a woman as vulgar and reckless as Beth lived in a nice house like this. As Beth would state that this is where they would be crashing, Chris just nodded. He grabbed the Artifact from the trunk and followed Beth into the house. As per her instructions, he would pick a room that isn’t his. He really didn’t care about what room he chose. He just chose the first one that he could. He went up the stairs and took a right turn. It was a decent-sized room. He would set the artifact down, and just plop on the bed on his stomach side. He would then roll to his back, removing his jacket and shirt. He would just fall asleep there, not even bothering with removing his jeans.

Beth let Chris disappear inside her house and, instead of rushing to follow him; she went to the kitchen and flipped the switch on a coffee maker. Truth be told, she could happily have curled up in a bed and slept for a while: but this chest bullshit wasn’t going to solve itself, and she doubted that Chris would have had a solution for the situation, other than maybe give up some incredibly powerful item to a person who hired robbers to get it. As soon as she had started slinging that Icy juju around, she had known that giving up the artefact was not exactly on her to-do list.

Power was cool, and suddenly she had been given a taste of superpowers: was there really a chance she’d give up something like legit superpowers for money? She had money: money wasn’t an issue. Super powers though? That could make her a fucking icon, a household name: even. If she wanted anything: it was that sort of recognition. The idea of being that damn cool was very appealing to her.

After making herself a cup of coffee, and putting some quieter music on, Beth decided that she should probably go about with dealing with the artefact. As much as she talked about ‘crashing’ here: it was only a matter of time before they became targets. There were a tonne of people who’d be missing the artefact: The people that hired Chris and Beth, for a start; then there were the people who had just gotten the item stolen; Heroes might even get involved soon.

No…Time wasn’t on their side.

The first thing Beth did was pick up a mobile phone: a disposable pay-as-you-go phone, with no chip or traceability. She had a dozen or so lying about the house, in case she needed to make a call. You didn’t do as well as Beth in the underworld if you didn’t have a few back-ups lying about. She punched in the number for the middleman that got Beth and Chris together. She needed to buy at least a little time before the employer started asking questions.

Three rings later, and she heard a deep male voice on the end of the line. The familiar voice of the middleman, she’d only met him once: a fat little man who spent way too much time inside and far too long starting at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. If he weren’t so important to getting jobs, she’d have kicked his ass 10 ways to Sunday.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Inks. I heard that the robbery got a bit hairy.”

“Yeah, Fist-o and I have to lay low for a few days, at least. We’re in a safe house, but we got the item. I’m at one of the safe houses with him and the object: Can you make sure to inform the client?”

“Which safe house are you a….”

The question was cut off when Beth ended the phone call: already tired of the middleman’s voice. She didn’t want to answer the question anyway, because then the fat fucker and their client would know she was lying. This way at least, she had a few days before the pair would have to deal with the client-side pain in the ass.

That just left finding out what the fuck they were dealing with. She fished out a camera from a set of downstairs draw, and stalked up the first flight of stairs: wondering which room Fist-o was occupying. She had been surprised by how quiet the man had been, and she half expected him to be making a phone call or two of his own…That or he would be touching himself.

Quickly enough, she found the room Chris was crashing in, and she just laughed out loud as she saw the half-naked man, sprawled on the bed. Seeing him there, chest bare and sleep quietly, she suddenly realised he was more attractive than the average schmuck in the underworld. She nodded approvingly, before turning to glance at the artefact. ’So what the fuck are you? Magical box or not, I know a guy who might figure you out.’

She took a couple of pictures, before leaving Chris alone in the room with the magic box. She didn’t know what how long it would take for her contact to deal with her request, but she’d promise him a big paycheck for a quick return. She wanted to know what the hell they were dealing with: and more importantly, if they could get those powers back, and permanently.

She fired up a computer in the study, scanning in the pictures and sending a fax to a certain contact who probably spent far too much time behind a computer desk, with Cheetos dust on his fingers or something.


After finishing with the fax, Beth felt the wave of exhaustion from earlier come over her again: just like after she’d frozen the guard. Her eyes felt super heavy, and as she stared at the screen of the computer, a copy of the fax still on it, she felt herself drifting off to sleep: slumped backwards in the computer chair: hat still on her head.

She didn’t move again until the next day.

When morning’s sunlight beckoned down upon his room, the first rays of sunshine hit down on Chris’s face. In a matter of a few minutes, it would force him to wake up as he would slowly open. He would move his arms above him, stretching them. The bone would crack as the release of relief would over take him as they did. Chris would then take his hand and wipe out the eye dust from his eyes and proceed to perk up in a sitting position. He was still in that drowsy state to where he wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings. Chris would slap his face just a couple of times just so he can get that initial feeling of waking up away from his body entirely. Soon, after a few minutes, Chris found himself standing up. He just realized that he slept in his jeans. Chris would grab his shirt and jacket, and head down the hall and turn a left to the bathroom. He would enter it.

As Chris would enter and lock the door to the bathroom, he would strip down to his bare body. He would go into the cabinet and pulled out a couple of towels. As he would set them on the counter, he would head to the shower, which was one of those stand up showers. Chris really didn’t care. He would just switch on the hot water knob halfway and the cold water on about a quarter of the ways. He doesn’t like to shower in extremely hot water nor does he enjoy cold showers. Regardless, he would step in and proceed to shower. He began first by washing his body with the bar of soap. He would wash his arms first and then his underarms, then his armpits. He would scrub as hard as he can just to get the full effect of the soap. Proceeding from that, he would just finish up the rest of his body. That’s where he would run his body under the water, and wash all of the suds off of his body. After that, he would take the shampoo and conditioner. He would use them both twice in rotation and wash, rinse, wash, rinse, and rinse once more.

When Chris had finished his shower, it would had only taken him ten minutes. The sound of the shower would not be heard anymore as Chris would’ve had already stepped out, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. He would just use this time to stylize his hair; which wasn’t much at all. Really, all he did was brush it a certain way and walla! He’s done doing it. He would then proceed to dry his body. This process would only take a few minute to do completely. Chris would slip on his black boxers, then his jeans, and followed by his white shirt and jacket, and his shoes. Even though he just woke up, he already got dressed. Regardless, he would head down the stairs, and go into the kitchen(as soon as he would find it, that is).

When Chris arrived in the kitchen, Beth wasn’t up yet. Chris thought that was odd, yet again as he would think more about it, she did strike him as a lazy bird, so he didn’t think much about it. He would, however, think about breakfast. Even though they’ll most likely be leaving soon, that doesn’t mean they can’t have a nice breakfast before they leave. So, on that note, Chris would begin to prepare everything. First, he got a few pans out and set them all on the oven. He would get out the following items: Eggs, Bacon, bag of pre-shredded potatoes, and maple sausage.

About ten minutes later, Chris would have already had made the eggs and bacon. He would only need a few minutes to make the six maple pork sausages and all the while he had a fresh pot of coffee brewing. About a minute until everything would be prepared, it would most likely be that the smell of the sausage and bacon would lure Beth out from wherever she is at. Chris would still yell for her, so he went over to the stairs, and yelled for her. “BETH! BREAKFAST IS READY!!” He would head back and set the table. Two plates would be on it, a plate for the bacon and sausage, a bowl for the eggs, and two cups of black coffee with the sugar and assortment of flavored creams were there too. Chris had prepared everything already. It was just ready to be dug into.

Beth awoke with a start at the sound of her name and the smell of…bacon? Why the hell was the smell of bacon flowing through her house? It took her a second to recall the fact that she was sharing her home with whatshisname. Connor or Callum or something…She’d stick with teasing him for a name like ‘Fist’ because hell, she didn’t have much else to grasp on about the guy.

Looking up at the computer screen, still left on from her work last night, she decided to check to see if her contact had gotten back to her yet, and was annoyed to find that he had not. To think that he was going to be another couple of days was frustrating. That meant she was stuck with the guy downstairs for another couple of days.

The smell of bacon caught her nose again, and suddenly she wondered if that would be too bad? At least he was house trained, after all.

She stood up and stretched, realising she was still in the clothes she’d worn for the heist, and she sighed. No doubt the other guy was going to be dressed up in his work gear too. She walked over to a large wardrobe and pulled out a couple of clothing items: male ones. They were all the remnants of her exes clothing: in various sizes. She eventually grabbed a pair of jeans and a casual looking shirt. Grabbing them both, she balled them up and made her way downstairs.

When she got to the kitchen, she felt her mouth open wide into a rapturous yawn: right in front of Chris…That was his name, Chris.

“Nice to see you make breakfast. What other tricks do you do?”

Not waiting for him to answer, she threw the balled up clothes towards Chris, aiming for his head.

“Those are some spare clothes; feel free to get changed so that we can burn your other gear and mine: No evidence and all that.”

She sat down in one of the wooden seats, grabbing the near-by pot of coffee and pouring some of the brew into a cup. She sipped at the drink black and without sugar, trying to awaken herself as best as she could.

“God, that stuff is good.”

After that, she began to pile food onto her plate, not caring about pacing herself or acting the lady in front of some freeloader. He’d cooked breakfast, sure: but he was still some guy crashing at her place after a funky job. She didn’t need to pretend to be anything prissy or some shit.

“So we never got much chance to talk during the…crazy.” She takes a bite of her food, chewing through a mouthful of sausage and egg with a contented smile on her face: this stuff was good! “How on earth did you get a nickname like ‘Fist’?”

She had decided to not talk about the obvious corpse in the closet yet: The Artefact could wait, and it would probably be best to break the ice a little bit.

As he sat at the table, Chris dug into his food. He would eat like a semi-gentleman. He started with the eggs and then the sausage. He was around halfway into the sausage and that’s when Beth came in with some clothes in her arms; though she would make a comment about what other things can he do. He smiled just very slightly as if she was flirting with him, but she obviously wasn’t. The next thing he knew, balled-up clothes were coming for his head, but he caught it with his hand.

By the time he caught the clothes, Beth had sat down and started eating her share of the food, but it was definitely not in the same fashion that Chris had eaten his. She didn’t even bother with any form of utensils She began to scarf it down like a pig. Chris couldn’t help but laugh a bit and be disgusted. Thankfully for him, he had finished his first plate of food so he didn’t lose his appetite then. She would compliment about how the food was good and Chris spoke. “Thank you. I must commend you for having such wonderful supplies.” He said, returning her compliment with one of his own.

When she kept on eating like some pig, she would ask him how he got the nickname of Fist. Chris chuckled. He knew this was coming, but he had wondered how soon it would take her to ask him. Obviously, only a day and some hot beef in her mouth. “That’s a long story, but I guess I should just give you the short version.” He said leaning forward slightly, arms bent as they rested on the table and hands neatly placed under his chin to hold his head up. “Throughout my early to late teens, I spent the majority of it participating in underground Mixed Martial Arts fights, and winning every single one of them, mind you.” He said grabbing a sausage and biting it off, the snap clearly heard. He swallowed it and continued. “Even when I would excel in theft, I’ve always been known to have a tendency to hit people with my fists, and thus the nickname ‘Fists’ came to be. I never fought it, and I like it to be honest.” He admitted and finished telling Beth the story.

Chris would finish eating his sausage and spoke. “How about you? What sort of crazy story do you have for the origins of Inks?” He asked, slightly laughing, but very lowly.

Beth can do nothing but nod in contended interest as she keptt finishing the plate of damn tssty foods. She could get used to this, actually, having someone around that could cook with something other than a microwave was actually kind of nice. "No shit, huh?" Despite the vulgarity offf the statement, it sounded genuine. She seemed like she was actually interested.

When it came to the origin of her name, she just laughed. "I forgot you've only seen me in the work kit. One sec." At that, she grips the shoulder of the suit jacket she'd worn for the heist and rilped at it. The hem tore suddenly, revealing the woman's bare arm, and the intricate sleeve tattoo that adorned it. "I've got another on my leg...The name sort of stuck, but aomwtimes I get other names...Bonnie, mostly."

Beth returned to the food on her plate, actually picking up some utensils as she dug into the messier food. "So I guess we need a plan, huh? We got a mysterious super box, no idea how it works, and now the police and the heroes are gunna be after us, for stealin' shit, and for murder." She gave him a little glare at that, clearly laying out her annoyance at his recklessness. "So watcha thinkin'?

Chris felt a certain genuine feeling coming from Beth when she responded to his story about how he got his nickname, Fists. He would return her genuineness as she would explain how she got her nickname of Inks. She would show him rather than show him. Beth ripped off a sleeve of her jacket and what Chris saw explained it all. He chuckled slightly as it would seem the both of them have simple stories of their nicknames. She would further state that she had another just like it on her leg. Chris raised an eyebrow as if curious, but he decided not to press forward on that. She would make a mention that she sometimes has been called Bonnie.

“It seems your story is more straightforward than mine is.” Chris said, “I’ve also been called another name. People would often refer to me as Clyde.“ He said as he would sip some coffee. It wasn’t a loud one, but it was definitely audible. The hot liquid touched his tongue and went down his throat smoothly. The sweetness really balanced out the bitter taste of pure coffee.

When he set his cup down, Beth would ask Chris about what they should do next. Considering they are wanted for not only bank robbery, but thanks to Chris, they were also wanted for murder. He caught her glare as if he was to blame for it. “Hey, don’t give me that look. We were in a jam and you were taking too long getting the cops out of our way.” Chris huffed, but he sighed. “Let’s see, maybe we should figure out what the Artifact was for and why we were sent to that bank in the first place.” Chris said, “did your contact get back to you at all?” Chris asked her as he took more moderate sips of his coffee, burping slightly as he did so.

Hearing Chris comment on the ease of her story, she just smirked. "So you think." She failed to mention the story behind the tattoos, or the fact that 'Bonnie' was the kindest nickname she'd got.

"Wait, you are tryin' to blame me for your bright spark idea of blowing a bunch of fuckers away? You fuckin' kiddin' me!?" She huffed, annoyance building in her gut. She suddenly felt a building urge to punch Chris in the bridge of the nose. "Sorry if I was so slow, jackass. I'll remember that next time I stop some Security schmuck blowing your fucking head off."

Crossing her arms in a huff, she tried her best to resist any other violent urges and just listen to what Chris had to say. "My contact is working on the research, but he'll probably need another day or so. Clearly, we need to blow off some steam. Wanna go out somewhere? We can go out shoppin' or get some food or go to the gym or some shit. Probably for the best if we spend some time together that doesn't nearly boil over into violence."