Genius Thief

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing

A/N: So my fellow readers, as you know, some of the best tales by the most famous of authors are written with their experiences as inspiration. This oneshot is no different. Let me first say, I am glad-as are you-to be able to continue my updates and to get new tales out to you. Take that statement as you will.


-THE WORLD'S DUMBEST CRIMINAL-

Freddie bemoaned another day of work, despite it being his favorite job at the moment. Career-wise, he wasn't finding anything he wanted and had to make ends meet with two jobs in the food industry. One employer wasn't paying him nearly enough as a host, and the other had just been forced to cut hours due to the closing of half the business and change of business hours.

His favorite job was as a delivery driver for a locally owned pizza shop. This shop was connected to a bar, which he helped clean in the mornings. Cleaning the bar had been his favorite part of the job, but now the pizza shop didn't open until after five, and drivers weren't needed in the morning to help clean.

The assistant manager was a close friend of his, Mario, and his favorite boss. Unfortunately the cut in hours separated the two between Mario working in the morning to clean the bar-as shift leaders now did-to his working as a driver.

"All my friends are over at the bar, I'm sure of it." Freddie leaned against the hood of his truck and folded his arms with a sigh. His friends were much different than those he grew up with, but they were some of the best friends he had.

Of course, he still spoke to Carly and Sam; but it wasn't as much as he would have liked. Sam was somewhere in California now, as far as he knew, and Carly still resided in Italy. He missed the girls terribly, but like his friend Saul told him, he couldn't focus on the things that were out of his control.

Saul was a much older and much wiser man in his mid-forties. He had a grey goatee and salt-and-pepper hair that was combed back and flowed to his neck. He was a large, burly man that looked like a biker-despite not being one. Freddie looked up to him with a great deal of respect, and was always eager to chat with him.

Freddie pushed himself from his truck and made his way into the pizza shop, forcing down the urge to not remain there. Two managers were on duty today: Danny and Carter. Danny was tall and lean, had brown chin stubble. Carter was black and muscular, he had dark shaved hair and a militaristic demeanor-which Freddie thought appropriate for a man fixing to join the Navy.

Danny was the general manager and Carter was one of the shift leaders. Two drivers were to be on tonight, but Kevin had yet to arrive. "Hey guys." Freddie leaned against a steel table and set his backpack down on the counter beside it. His backpack had his laptop inside, since he often carried it with him to use it at the bar-where the wifi was better.

Without any further word, he pulled out his phone and looked through his contacts, smiling briefly when he passed over Sam's name. His heart skipped and he felt a momentary joy that faded quickly, turning his smile to a frown.

"How long's it been?" He whispered. The last he heard from Sam, it had been a few months. He knew she'd moved from her roommate situation recently and was staying with her father, but that conversation got cut off before she could tell him where she was. Then life got busy and they hadn't gotten ahold of each other since.

Freddie peered through the window in the wall between the pizza shop and the bar, it was where they placed orders from the bar. Malina was working the bar tonight; she was the head bartender. She reminded him of Sam from time to time, in ways he never told her.

Malina had been on probation for possession, and she was probably the toughest of the four bartenders. She had tattooed arms and short hair with pink dyed hair.

She poked her head in view, her narrow eyes piercing into him and her lips curled into a smirk. He often likened her eyes to that of a dragon. "Hey Freddie. Want your pitcher of water?" He grinned back and nodded.

"Yes, please!"

"Alright, I'll grab it for you."

She scurried off, returning just a minute later with a mini-pitcher of water. He thanked her and started to sip. "Freddie!" Carter's deep voice boomed, startling him. "You got a delivery ready." He lowered the pitcher with a sigh and gazed longingly at the window separating him from the bar.

After a second, he set the water down and went to grab the red carrying bag. "Great. Where's it at?" The first delivery of the night was a cash delivery nearly fifteen minutes away. He shuffled out with a begrudging groan and made his way to the truck.

While he drove, he couldn't shake the feeling that something just wasn't right. This was his favorite job; a job he loved nothing more than to be there. Even the bar's owner, Micah, favored him and told him his job there would always be secure. Mario was one of his best friends there, along with Saul and Jacob.

He let out a chuckle, thinking of them, and thinking of how Sam and Carly would be aghast at the crowd he'd surrounded himself with.

Yet, the bar-a sports and karaoke bar-held some of the best memories of this era of his life.

His first delivery was in a neighborhood that was already dark as hell, doing no favors to the peculiarly dark night. The house was large, and the lady at the door appeared to brush him off after giving him a wad of cash. "Probably not much in the way of tips," he mumbled while on his way back to the car.

Freddie drove back and his eyes drifted towards the two carrying bags on the table. "Let me guess. Kevin's not here yet?" Carter shook his head. Danny was at the prep station, making a pizza. Freddie rolled his eyes and grabbed the pizza bags. "I'll be back soon then."

Kevin was always late, and then when he was there, he never did any work. He talked on the phone and didn't want to take any deliveries-leaving Freddie to make all the deliveries and be unable to get anything done at the shop that he was supposed to do; such as cleaning the dishes.

One of the deliveries was a ten minute drive, but the other delivery was right around the corner at one of the best apartment complexes. The Seabridge Apartments were among the safest in the area, and a favorite of everyone at the shop. Customers here were allowed even to pay cash deliveries after 11:00, when people were restricted to card deliveries for safety reasons.

The Seabridge delivery had already been paid for at the shop, so all that was needed was to make the drop. "Alright." Freddie glanced at his phone and saw a missed call from Sam. His heart jumped up, but to his misfortune, he couldn't make a call while working and didn't like talking on the phone while driving.

His phone's battery was at 60 percent life, and he had an external battery ready in his backpack to replace once the shift was over. He'd be able to call Sam either then or the following morning; since she might be asleep at 3 in the morning, it would be better to call tomorrow.

Freddie turned the corner and peered out the window with his eyes. The windshield was slightly foggy, and the streetlights seemed to be dimmer than usual. "God what a strange night."

Approaching the keypad outside the gates of the apartment, he saw a pedestrian walking past his car. There was something strange that stood out to Freddie, as if he needed to focus on this man. The man had a dark black complexion and was sauntering about half-asleep. He got close to the gate, almost leaning forward against it.

When the gate started to open and Freddie drove forward, the man turned and followed him in, but that was the last he thought about the man.

Freddie parked a few spots down from the door of the apartment he was delivering to, left the lights on as he often did for his own safety, and knocked on the door.

Nearby, people sat on a car and surrounded it, chatting with one another. To Freddie's left, a woman and her kid were standing under a streetlight near the far fence.

A Hispanic male opened the door and smiled when his eyes fell onto the red bag. "Here you go man," Freddie said while removing the pizza. "Hope you enjoy it." The man's grin widened and he nodded with gratitude.

"Oh hey, did they tip you at the store?" He shook his head and the man's eyebrows rose. "Okay, hold on. Let me go grab your tip." He shut the door and Freddie stood in place, sighing gently. Normally he kept aware of his surroundings, eyeballing the environment, but today he simply didn't care.

"Everything about today is weird, like some sort of imbalance." His brow furrowed and his right foot tapped the ground. The door opened and the man extended his hand, holding two dollars. Freddie took it with a smile. "Thank you sir, you enjoy the food."

"I sure will!"

Freddie pushed the two dollars into the plastic holder on the carrying case and walked to his truck. He paused for a moment before reaching for the keys in his pocket and shifted his gaze towards the left.

Turning around, he saw the man from before standing in front of him. In his hand was a silver gun, which Freddie couldn't tell the make or model of. "Really? You're going to do this now? I don't even have anything on me…"

Being a criminal justice major, Freddie let out a sigh and started making mental notes with his eyes. The man had a V-shaped face, half-lidded eyes and didn't appear hostile. He wore a white t-shirt with a black graphic on it, and had what looked like a black bandana on his head.

The man seemed to lean, looking up at Freddie. He was shorter and scrawnier. Having worked out a good deal, Freddie knew how to defend himself. The man was open and holding his gun at such a way that he knew he could disarm the man if he wanted; but professors had often said in the past that the best thing to do was stay calm and give the person what they wanted.

Freddie felt nothing. There was no fear, there was no anxiety or even anger. He didn't think about his life, he didn't think about Sam or his friends. The man looked confused, as though questioning Freddie's lack of a reaction.

"I will shoot you, you think I won't?"

"Honestly you can kiss my ass because I don't care if you do or don't." He kept his thoughts to himself and let out a sigh as the man didn't make any motions or movements whatsoever.

"Give me the money he just gave you."

"It's just two dollars." Freddie removed the two dollars and handed it over, watching with a sigh as the man threw it in his pocket. "There go my tips."

"Now give me your wallet." There was nothing useful in his wallet. He had two cards that he needed to replace since Malina and Tracy both told him the magnetic strip was so worn out that they were almost unusable. He also needed to update the address on his driver's license, but was too lazy to do it.

"I don't have a wallet," he lied.

"Then give me the keys to your truck.

"That's not happening." He rolled his eyes and grabbed the wallet from his pants, sighing in defeat as he handed it over. "Fine, here's the wallet." The man threw it into his pants and cleared his throat.

"How about a phone? Got a phone?"

"Yep."

"Hand it over!"

His thoughts on Sam now, he let out a sigh and handed the phone over. "It's broken anyway, moron. Good luck getting it to charge or getting past the password." Seemingly satisfied, the man pocketed the phone and began walking.

Freddie had the fleeting thought to get in his truck and run over the man then and there, but thought better of it. He walked around the front of his truck, looking at the people sitting on the car and pointing at the man walking away. He then knocked on the door of the person he delivered to, and the minute he did that, the robber took off running.

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me."

The man opened the door, his eyes wide. "What's up?"

"I just got robbed." Freddie's voice was flat and his face expressionless. "Gunpoint. Guy took off with my wallet and my phone."

"Shit!" The man then proceeded to call the police.

One of the neighbors had been able to describe the man's attire to the police a lot better than Freddie could, which was stunning. Even more stunning, the man didn't have a disguise to conceal himself one bit. Then the police were pinging Freddie's phone to try and get ahold of him.

The man was able to call the pizza shop, which was the only number Freddie could give to cops at the time, and Freddie got them to send someone to pick up his second delivery.

Kevin didn't take long to get there, having finally gotten to work. "Dude!" Kevin looked at him with arched eyebrows and a chuckle-as though the situation were amusing to him. "He's on foot, you have a car. You should have just run him over."

"Eh, I guess." He shrugged and closed his eyes, wondering what he was going to tell people. The closest relative to him was his aunt and uncle, and of course he knew he would have to go over to them and get things situated-which meant they'd be worrying about him. He didn't want them to worry, but he had no choice.

When he got back to the shop, Danny was willing to give him the rest of the night off. Freddie got his laptop and typed out a message to his aunt and uncle, telling them what had happened and that he'd be going to see them soon.

"Hey Freddie, what's going on over there?" Malina's voice drew him to the window and he frowned at her.

"I just got robbed."

Her eyebrows rose and her jaw fell apart. "That was you?" He jerked his head back, surprised at how quickly the news got to them. "Well, the police came by asking if we saw someone with a white shirt…"

"Oh."

Malina left the window, and it wasn't long before Mario, Saul and Jacob came walking into the shop. Their expressions were that of shock and disbelief, but their eyes also bore significant relief. "My god are you okay, dude?" Mario asked. He was Italian, and looked just like a stereotypical Italian pizza guy: With a full black beard and glasses. He was about half the size of Saul.

"I'm okay. A little shaken I guess, but otherwise fine."

Saul put his hand to his chest and sighed. "Hey, you're alive. That's what matters. Do you need money?"

"No, I'm okay…" Freddie was too proud to take money, even if offered from a friend. Saul shook his head and slowly pushed a twenty dollar bill through the glass window between them. "Dude-"

"Take it. It's fine, I got you."

Mario waved him over and pointed at the door. "Come on around, I'll get you a drink."

Freddie took the offer, but was worried his aunt and uncle would be up worrying about him. Mario bought him his favorite rum drink, Bacardi Oakheart.

It wasn't long before the business owner, Micah came to check on him, also glad he was okay.

The support Freddie had there was remarkable. He hadn't felt such friendship in a long time. Then, without missing a beat, Mario lent him his phone so he could call the card companies and cancel both card numbers. The process didn't take much time, and he was glad to have new cards on their way over.

Only half an hour passed at that point, and the card companies confirmed no pending transactions had taken place. All was good, and the thief clearly wasn't getting anything more than two dollars off him.

On Facebook, he posted about losing his phone. Carly was the first to reply with three words: 'What the Fuck'? When he explained what happened, she was beside herself with anger and was telling him he needed to find a safer job. Still, it could have happened at any job.

Within the hour he reached his aunt and uncle, who were amazed he was there without warning. When he realized they hadn't gotten his message, and he worried for nothing, he only let out an astonished sigh and proceeded to tell them what had transpired. They handled it calmly and helped him go online to update the address on his driver's license-which would give him a new ID.

Everyone seemed grateful that he was alive, and thankful he decided not to try and be a tough guy against a guy with a gun. He couldn't help but fantasize about wrenching the man's wrist and pressing the nozzle of the gun beneath the robber's chin, or bludgeoning the man against the hood of his truck until unconscious.

The only thing he cared about that he lost was his leather wallet. The wallet had been given to him by Sam long ago, a Guinness wallet with the beer logo on the front, which had been a souvenir from when she'd travelled to Ireland one summer.

Sam didn't use Facebook, but had an online account on some website for uploading pictures and documents. He sent her a message telling her what happened and that he couldn't get in touch with her.

When finished with his aunt and uncle, he returned to his friends at the bar where they all proceeded to buy him drinks and talk about how happy they were he was there. "You know I'm a deeply spiritual man," Saul said with his deep and husky voice, "But if something happened to you tonight man." Saul spun his finger and pointed in the air. "I've buried younger friends, if something happened to you I'd be like 'God, we need to have a talk'."

Freddie nodded solemnly. He was happy too, but it still felt surreal and odd to him. "All I could really think at the time was 'you're really doing this now?'."

Malina walked over and folded her arms her side of the bar. She leaned forward and motioned her head to the window between the bar and the pizza shop. "Hey, Danny says the police just called in. They think they got the suspect." His eyebrows rose and he let out a chuckle. "They need you to call them back."

Sure enough, the police in a neighboring city made an arrest and thought to connect the suspect with his case. He wasn't able to do anything that night, but the detective handling his case was going to get to him.

The following day, Freddie got a new cell phone. He was grateful to have it, especially after months of agonizing over having to switch out batteries due to the broken charger and being unable to take pictures with his phone.

With his phone in hand, all he could do was laugh that the robber got away with nothing but a few small dollar bills.

A few days later, Freddie still hadn't heard back from Sam. He was at work at his second job, a restaurant where he was a host. He didn't care much for the place, since he made a high schooler's wage and didn't have enough hours.

Standing at the stand, he watched the doors and let his mind drift towards his other job where he preferred to be. He was leaning over the host stand and shaking his head, bored with how slow the day was and eager to get off as soon as he could.

When he saw movement outside the door window, he straightened himself up and reached for the menus. His eyes drifted over and he froze when he saw a familiar blonde haired, blue-eyed woman standing before him.

Her hands were shaking and her quivering gaze moved up and down his body. "Freddie," she said breathlessly. His eyebrows rose and she moved forward, taking him by surprise and throwing her arms around his neck. "I hopped a plane the minute I got your message. I'm so glad you're safe."

"Yeah." He hugged her back, not caring that his coworkers and possibly his manager were watching. "How'd you find out I was working here?" Sam took a breath and smiled.

"Well I went to the place you said you were working at the time, and Mario told me you were working here right now."

"Oh." He grinned, feeling a good deal of joy for the first time in a while. "Good. That's good."

"How are you handling this?"

"Okay. I mean, the guy went into the safest complex in the area without a disguise, in front of witnesses, and robbed the pizza guy…all he got besides a broken phone and useless cards was a couple dollars."

"Yeah, all that can be replaced."

"Yeah, but he got your wallet that you gave me." He frowned and Sam furrowed her eyebrows. After a second, she pulled away and let out a small scoff.

"Whatever, that wallet's not worth anything if you're dead." He was shocked to see moisture on her cheeks; had she been so worried about him? "I'm just glad you're okay. Dork." Her lips opened into a smile and she rolled her head to the right. "By the way, I met your coworker over there. Malina."

"Oh you did?" He smiled as her lips curved into a smirk.

"Yeah, she told me you say she reminds you of me." Sam flung her hair over her shoulder and took a deep breath. "I say there's only one of me."

"Yeah, and none more. It's great to see you, Sam."

Just then his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a text message from Mario.

Hey man, the police came by. They left their information, said to call them. They have your wallet, and the stuff in it too.

Stunned, Freddie nearly shouted for joy. "I'm not sure if this day could get much better." He grinned and looked at the time on the clock; it was the end of his shift. "And I'm wrong." He looked at Sam with a widening grin, remembering the cash Saul had given him. "Stupid criminal did me a favor…what do you say we sit down and catch up over dinner, Sam?"

"Dinner?" Sam raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Didn't you lose all your money?"

"Saul gave me some." Not to mention the woman from his first delivery that night had actually wound up giving him a good tip: six dollars. "Mario just told me the police have my wallet." Sam chuckled and bowed her head.

"Jesus, is the wallet really that important?"

"The wallet? Maybe about as important as you are." Her cheeks went red and she raised her head, standing in place and watching as he moved to the computer where he could clock out. Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes wide.

"What's a couple dollars lost?" Freddie led her towards one of the tables and sat with her, grinning from ear to ear. "I replaced my cards and driver's license like I needed to do, got a brand new phone, and you're here…what can I possibly complain about now?"

"Anything?"

"Nothing. I'm in good shape now. Like I said…" Freddie winked and Sam shook her head and sighed with a smile. "That guy did me a favor."


Hope you enjoyed the oneshot. Do give your thoughts, let me know what you liked and all.