Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, except Lucia and Greg, but for the purposes of this story, I have knicked them. And I'd do it again. I didn't get paid for this. Which is rather unfortunate.

For this story, I have used the movies Rainman (again, as it is the best movie ever) and Idle hands (because Lucia and I fancy the pants off Seth Green.) It's a follow up to Family Values, but not as good, which is really saying something. It gets a bit crap towards the end, as I had my sixth year exams coming up, and was getting really nervous, about this. In fact, I finished it while I was sitting up all night waiting for my results to arrive. Then I got them, and cried my eyes out. I would like to thank my buddy Callum, who reads all my crap and assures me it's decent despite my objections. I'm going to stop typing now. Bye. Please review thanks.


"You could swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar, and be better off than you are, if your swinin'
on a star."
Bing Crosby, Swinging on a Star


"Last night my little angel, came dancin to my door, last night my little baby, came pumpin on the floor, she said "oh come on baby. I got a license for love, and if it expires, pray hell from above."
Billy Idol, Rebel Yell

"In the desert, I saw creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, held his heart in his hands and ate of it.I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter, bitter." He answered; "but I like it, because it is bitter, And because it is my heart."
Stephen Crane, a quote I stole from the Stephen King book Four Past Midnight.

Be Careful what you wish for.


Lucia dropped four M&M's into her coffee, then cursed herself. It was a bad habit she'd picked up, but it did taste pretty good, even if it was disgusting. She looked out of the window of the fifth story apartment and smiled. It felt good to be back in Chicago. She had missed the city, even if she had spent most of her three months away hating it, and cursing her family and upbringing there. It was hers. The sunny suburb of Santa Clarita in Los Angeles had been great, just what she needed in fact. Sunny and far away. But now that her white skin was darker, not much as she failed to tan under almost any situation, but a little, and her hatred of the city had died, it felt good to be home. She looked down at the crowded streets, the bustling traffic, and smiled. In California, she had stayed in a house located roughly in the middle of nowhere, which was fine, but she loved the bother of Chicago. One thing she had not missed was her brother Greg. The mere thought of him caused the smile to turn into a hateful grimace, and she sipped at her coffee. She knew she shouldn't hold such a deep-seated grudge against him, considering if it hadn't been for Greg being a complete and utter asshole, she may never have returned to Chicago. But he was, and she was here. Attempted Bank Robbery, he had informed her over the phone. That was why he was in a prison cell right now, and Lucia had to bring Twenty grand with her to pay for his release. Lucia didn't mind the money. Since her dad had been declared unfit to monitor his own finance, Lucy had inherited the lot. She was a very rich woman, and Greg knew it. It wasn't just the money he wanted though. He also wanted her to "help me out a little here, huh Lucy. I am in some deep shit." What he could be involved in that was "deeper shit" than attempted bank robbery, Lucia dreaded to think. But she made her mind turn away from Greg and his problems for the time being, and went back to thinking about Ray Kowalski. The skinny detective had never left her mind since she left three months before. She had kissed him only once, but it had been beautiful. Deep, loving, sexual, everything. She had still left then. Not taking it any further, as the detective's feelings would have been hurt enough through that one kiss.
"Stanly."She said out loud, and laughed. It had been cruel, but she loved to tease him by calling him that, knowing he hated it. She actually liked the name. Her Grandfather on her mother's side had this name, and it reminded her of him. A sweet man, kind and gentle. Just like Kowalski. She had loved her grandfather deeply, and felt almost the same way about Ray, but in a different sense of the word. Still, she had neglected to pick up the phone and call him, even after she came back into town. She didn't know why. Too many memories, her mind would inform her.
"Bullshit cop-out excuse." She told herself, and it was. She was afraid to call Kowalski, if she were being completely honest about it. She remembered him as having a deep sense of affection and devotion for her, quite possibly love. To call him and find out he had moved on, found someone new would break her heart. And she'd had enough heartbreak recently. Was this another bullshit excuse? She didn't think so. It seemed real enough, honest enough. She was afraid he wouldn't love her. And why would he. She never understood the attraction in the first place. A short, vampiricly pale, fish mouthed girl who hung around your apartment all day smoking, eating all your food and being annoying was not exactly a man's dream girl. Lucia supposed she shouldn't be so negative about herself, but she couldn't really help it.
"Everybody gets scared sometimes." She told herself, without really thinking about it. Yes, that was true. Afraid of being alone, afraid of being rejected, afraid. The thing of it was, the real kicker, if you worried about it so much you never took a chance, then you really would end up alone. And thinking about all the opportunities you let pass you by because you were afraid. She laughed out loud at the thought of it, then looked at the phone. She sighed and walked across, picking up her phone book and starting to dial.


When the phone rang, Ray Kowalski was lying on the couch eating Doritos, and had no intention of getting up.
"Could be Lucia." His mind informed him, but his mind had been informing him of the same thing for the past three months, and while, yes it could be, he really, really doubted it. It was probably Fraser, and while he hated to ignore his best friend's calls, they were all the same recently.
"Ray, are you okay?"
"Ray, how long is this going to continue?"
"Ray, she isn't coming back.
Blah, blah, blah, blah. Fraser's problem, Ray thought, was that he didn't understand the art of moping. And while Fraser seemed to adhere to the idea of repression, he didn't seem to approve of it in others. In Ray's opinion, however, repression was fantastic. It was great not to think about things for a while, and if they got on top of you, you could always work more hours, or eat some Doritos. Or doughnuts. Or whatever. Ray's train of thought started drifting away from Lucia and towards doughnuts when the answering machine kicked in on the phone. There was a silence. Then: "Umm...". Ray recognised the voice right away and fell off the couch trying to get up.
"It's Lucia." The machine said, as Ray tumbled over the couch to get to the phone. "I just wanted to say that. Uh, okay, I'll call back." She finished as he grabbed the receiver.
"Wait, wait, wait, I'm here." He said frantically. In the silence he thought she had gone. Then she laughed.
"Still the caffeine junkie, huh?" She said.
"Yep. That's me." He answered grinning. "You?"
"Oh, shit yeah." She told him, and he laughed.
"How's Santa whatsit?"
"Santa Clarita. And it's fine, as far as I know. Unless it's blown up since I left."
"You left? Where you staying now?" He asked hopefully. Maybe she was in New York, or Boston.
"Chicago." She answered.
"What?" He asked, laughing.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I guess... I guess I missed it more than I thought. It's weird how you get used to calling a place home. Then you leave, and it's like, this new place is great, but you feel like a fraud. You know?"
"No, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." He told her and they both laughed. Ray thought about how good it was to hear her laughing.
"Anyway, I called because, well I figured since I was so desperate to tell you I was leaving I should probably tell you I was back. Common courtesy and all."
"Is that all, huh?" He asked her, disappointed, and expecting her to say "Yes. You didn't think I wanted to SEE you did you?"
"No, I guess not. I figured we could go for a drink, or something. I'm not very good at this kinda thing, yi know." She said instead.
"Well, how about tonight?" He asked hopefully. She sighed.
"No, not tonight. I gotta do something. Nothing major, just, family issues, yi know? How about tomorrow? I could come by around seven?"
"Hey, I'll pick you up. Tell me where you-" He began.
"No!" Lucia cut him off sharply. Then added more softly, "Not really a good idea. Just got here, the place is in a mess usual stuff. I'll walk. It's not too far."
"In Chicago?" He asked uneasily.
"I'll bring a big stick." She informed him, matter of factly. He laughed again.
"Okay, okay. Tomorrow at seven. You're not here on time, I'm starting up the man hunt."
"Okay. I'll se ya then. Bye." She said.
"Bye." Ray answered, and she hung up. He was already back on the couch with his Doritos before he realised she didn't have a family.


Greg DiMarco lay on the couch half watching a movie about a guy with a possessed hand that he had found on tape, and half watched his sister's mad rush to get ready for her date.
"Okay. How do I look?" She asked him. He looked at her, slightly puzzled. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt, with her long, curly black hair tied back in a ponytail.
"Well," He began, "I don't really know what you've been doin the last three hours. You look just the same as always, maybe a little prettier, I dunno." He finished, then turned his attention back to the movie where two zombies discussing the cleaning of a microwave.
"Aint the guy you got a crush on?" He asked pointing the remote at the screen. "The little one."
"Seth Green, yeah." Lucia said absently. "Okay, when I get home tonight." She started then noticed his grin and the fact that he had began to speak, "And it will be tonight, I aint like those floozies you date, I expect this place to be tidy, you to still be in the city of Chicago, and the liquor stores in the area to be unrobbed. Get me?"
"Unrobbed isn't a word Luce. That Harvard thing really aint done you much good."
"Aint done? Anyway, you know what I mean."
"Well, Lucy, these places get robbed all the time. I can't say what other people are gonna do, You know? I'm not God or anything."
"Okay, fine, but you stay here. And I don't want any of your friends in here either. I know the kinda people you hang out with, and I don't need them in my house."
"Okay Mom, that's really great, and I agree to all your terms. Now would you just leave, and let me watch this movie in peace. Then I'll watch Rainman, in peace. Then I'll go to my room and think about what I did."
"Rainman's a great movie." Lucia said with a smile, then angrily. "You damn well should be thinking about what you did. Attempted freaking bank robbery, Greg. I mean Jesus Christ! Not only did you get yourself arrested, but you scared the shit out of all those people into the bargain."
"Your gonna be late. Quarter to Seven and all." He told her.
"Oh shit." She muttered. "Fine, I'll be back by one at the latest, and if you do go out, be back by then so I don't know about it."
"Fine. Goodbye Lucia." He said smiling as she made her way to the door.
"Bye." She muttered on her way out.

Fraser could see that Ray was nervous. It was six thirty and the skinny blond detective refused to sit down for more than two minutes at a time, preferring to pace the room. Then Diefenbaker would nuzzle his leg, so he would sit down to ruffle the wolf's fur, before getting up and pacing so the cycle could repeat. Still, Fraser thought, this nervous Ray was better than the depressed, distracted Ray he had seen for the past three months. The one who insisted every thing was fine, when it quite clearly was not.
" What if she doesn't show Frase?" He asked the Mountie for the seventh time that evening.
"Ray, I'm sure she will. She is a very nice young woman, and I'm sure she wouldn't stand you up." He had answered, as he did the last six times. He counted two beats.
"Yeah, but what if she doesn't?" Ray asked, right on schedule.
"Ray, we will think about that if and when it occurs." Fraser told him, then counted another two beats.
"So your saying you think she might not show?" Ray said, completing his part in the apparently endlessly repeated script. Instead of saying. "If you would just sit down and relax Ray, I'm sure it would help." As he was supposed to, Fraser laughed. Ray looked at him, hurt.
"What's so funny?" He asked.
"It's just that we have been though this seven times. She will be here." Fraser explained.
Ray sat down on the couch grumpily, and ruffled Deifenbaker's fur.
"Aint I got a right to be nervous? What do you think Deif?" He directed his attention to the wolf, who only looked at him blankly. "Yeah, well, what do you know anyway? Never heard of a wolf datin'."
Therefore, by the time five past seven rolled around and Lucia still hadn't shown Fraser began to get worried that his partner might start trying to chew through the walls.
"I've been stood up Frase. She stood me up cuz I aint good enough, and she deserves better, and she knows it." He ranted, then with a sudden revelation he added, "Unless she actually found better. On the way over, yi know? You read about it all the time. These girl's bump into their dream guy on the street, nothin' else matters, so they run off together, get married and live happily-" He was cut off, not by his partner, who had at this point decided it was pointless to even try and end the endless assault of reasons for Lucia's lateness, which had ranged from missing her bus, to being shot, stabbed and mutilated and then ventured into her eloping, but by a knock at the door.
"Oh shit! Fraser, you answer it." Ray babbled.
"Ray, I'm quite sure your cabable of... " Fraser began, then trailed off as Ray rushed off to the bathroom.
"I gotta check my hair." He assured Fraser apologetically, before slamming the door behind him. Fraser sighed and opened the front door.
"Ah. Hello Lucia. You look lovely this evening." He said, looking at the girl and smiling.
"So, what's up?" She asked him. "There been a switch or something?"
"Pardon me?"
"I'm supposed to be going out with Ray."
"Oh! Of course. He's... Just, um. Doing, his, hair." Fraser told her, trying to find a suitable excuse, but failing miserably.
"Oh. And I have to stand out here because...?"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Do come in." Fraser stood aside and entered the apartment. She looked around her at the dishevelled mess of papers, cups, plates, and laughed.
"I see nothings changed around here." She said. The wolf came over and started to nuzzle at her leg.
"Hey there." She said to the wolf, using the same tone she would to address a person, before ruffling his fur.
"He appears to like you. You don't have any confectionery on you, do you?" Fraser asked, looking at Deifenbaker reproachfully.
"Nope. Not that I know of anyway."
"Ah. He takes a shine to anyone carrying junk food, or women."
"Sounds like my brother." Lucia laughed.
"The one who, um...?"
"No, unfortunately that brother is alive and well. You have any brothers, Fraser?"
"No, I'm afraid I don't."
"You should be glad. They'll aggravate ya. I swear. Only children, they wish they had siblings, yi know? But when you got them, it's not that great." She said, looking at the wolf in deep contemplation.
"Really?"
"Oh, god yeah. I mean, I wouldn't wish them away or anything. But when their throwing you out of trees and stamping on your feet, or setting fire to your property, you wish you could."
"He doesn't do that anymore?" Fraser asked with real concern.
"God no! He'd be arrested. Now he just leaches offa me. It's a new way to terrorise me without getting sued for physiological damage." Lucia explained as Ray exited the bathroom.
"You got physiological damage?" He asked, smiling.
"No. You obviously have a problem with your hair though. I don't even take that long."
"Well, yi know, you want a style like this, you gotta put in the effort. We better get goin, or we're gonna be late."
"For what?"
"Dinner. We got reservations." He said ushering her out of the door.
"Bye Fraser. "Lucia said politely.
"Yeah, bye Frase." Ray mumbled, closing the door behind him and leaving Fraser smiling softly after them.

"So..." Ray said uncomfortably.
"So..." Lucia returned, more defiantly than anything else. Ray thought by that she meant. "Don't think you can trick me into starting the conversation, you son of a bitch. This is a test, and you damn well better pass it." And almost wished she would say that. It seemed better than the silence. Lucia looked around the expensive restaurant. They had been lucky to get in at all, because of Lucia's jeans. She had looked at the maitradee, and laughed when he said this was a black tie establishment. She explained that it sounded ridiculous to hear someone actually say that. After five or ten minutes of Ray trying to use his police powers with Lucia watching, infuriatingly amused by the whole thing., she had said "My fathers Tony DiMarco." Upon which they had been seated immediately.
"Even if he is a nut, he still pulls some weight in this city." She had explained. Then they had lapsed into the silence. Ray thought it was torturous, horrible. He squirmed in his seat, cleared his throat a lot, and looked generally unwell. Lucy, it seemed, didn't mind the silence at all, then she leaned over the table, and said
"You don't really like this place, do you?" He looked at her stunned.
"N, No. It's a little..."
"Snobby?"
"Yeah." He laughed.
"Okay, lets go." She said standing up.
"Where?" He joined her.
"Well, my personal favourite is Taco Bell. You get a kids meal, they give you a cheap piece of plastic for free. Excellent. I lived on Taco Bell when I was out west waiting for you to call." She said as they walked towards the exit.
"Waiting for me to call? Oh, that's nice, really. You couldn't a have called me."
"I DID call you, just after I got out there. You never returned the message." She told him smiling. "Jerk." She added, and he laughed so hard the patrons of the restaurant looked around with distaste.
"Fine, Taco Bell it is." He said, then added. "Trailer trash." This time it was her turn to laugh, and Ray considered how much the atmosphere could change with the prospect of mass-produced Mexican Food, and a small dog.

Greg thought about the bank job. It had been prying at his mind for a while now, since he got caught in other words. They had gone in there, told the woman behind the counter to "Put the money in the bag, bitch!" With all these people lying on the floor. Greg had assured them that nobody would get hurt, if they just stayed calm, and shit like that. They had all lain there, it was going swimmingly, then the cops had come steaming in. Crashing through he doors. Greg was cuffed then hauled off to jail. This time, he thought, I won't let the bitch push the emergency button. Won't have time. He considered how to avoid this, mulling it over the way a man will run his tongue over a mouth ulcer until it became a raw and painful obsession. The bank job was Greg's obsession. One with terrible power that had stolen into his brain and wouldn't allow him to think about anything else until it was done, successfully, and he had the money on some island in the south pacific. He considered the fact that Lucy had bailed him out of prison, and if he broke any of the conditions she would never see a penny of her money again.
Fuck it. His mind replied to this brief sympathetic thought. She's completely loaded, stupid bitch.
Greg considered this thought, accepted its truth and moved onto how he would stop the bitch at the bank from pushing the alarm button. They had those things down at there feet these days. He decided in the end, he would have to accept that the button had been pushed, and get his ass out of there as quickly as possible. If the cops came in, he would have to get a little more trigger-happy than he had in the past. He wasn't much of a killer. In thinking that, he meant he'd never actually killed anyone before.
Still, he thought, everyone had to start somewhere. He would do it himself this time. Louis and John could go fuck themselves. Skanky bastards had gotten them arrested. There was also the fact that they were still in jail, as they had no rich sisters, or excuses for diminished mental capacity. He had briefly considered killing his sister, then thought better of it. As much as he hated Lucia, as he did people in general, he loved her at the same time, although this was not a feeling that he stretched to people in general. He dismissed the murderous impulse. It wasn't the way to go about getting the money he deserved. He wanted the money, that was part of it. But then there was the bank job. He had failed abysmally at it; this had to be corrected. He looked down the barrel of his gun. It was loaded, so he did this as carefully as he could. A delinquent part of his brain told him he might as well pull the trigger. Do the world a goddamn favour and wipe out one of the scumbags. It wasn't much, but it would be a start. He frowned deeply and wondered where this thought had come from. It bothered him too much to think about. Just like the fact that he was becoming more and more like his father every single day. Psychotic, moody, self -loathing. These things were, however, unimportant. He lay back on the sofa, the TV on but unwatched, and thought about bank jobs and murder.

Lucy was happy. She was, of course, completely unaware that her brother was at that very moment thinking about shooting her in the head, and then robbing a bank. If she had known these things, it probably would have effected the level of her happiness. But just a little. She looked at Ray Kowalski across the table. He seemed to be directing an unbelievable amount of concentration upon his Burrito.
"Find anything?" She asked him, smiling the most radiant smile she could master, which was, of course, very radiant.
Ray looked up at her and uttered a confused "What?"
"In there." She pointed towards his food.
"Oh, no. I was just thinkin."
"About..."
"Well." He began slowly. Lucy felt like she was about to be patronised, but supposed he was just nervous.
"I was thinkin that you got a little touchy about me comin over to your place. And I figure that maybe there's a reason for that." He finished thinking about Lucy being married and not wanted to mention it for obvious reasons.
"Oh, that, well, I got a little company."
"Boyfriend?" He asked sharply.
Lucia looked back just as sharply. "No. What in the hell do you think I am?"
"I'm, I'm sorry." He answered sighing." It's just I'm a little nervous, y'know."
"Yeah. Anyway, my brother's staying for a while. I don't want you to meet him."
"Why not?"
"Because he's a asshole. " She said matter of factly.
Ray tried to think of a suitable answer to this statement. When none was forth coming, his attention returned to his food, and he smiled a little.
"He is!" She laughed, taking Ray's silence as a sign that he felt all people thought this about their brothers. "He tried to rob a bank a few weeks a go. But, due to the immenseness of his stupidity, he got arrested instead. I had to come to Chicago and rescue him. Jerk. I swear. He's mooching around my apartment until they either throw him in jail, or let him go to a hospital on diminished mental capacity. Hopefully he'll go to jail. They don't treat um mean enough in those goddamn mental hospitals. Or maybe we'll all get lucky and he'll get hit by a bus and die."
"You don't really want that do you?"
"Hell yeah. Okay, so no. But I wouldn't mind if he got hit by a bus. He can survive, but maybe it would teach him to not be such a jerk." Ray looked at her concerned.
"I know. I'm being a jerk right now."
Ray smiled again. "Maybe we should go. Catch a movie or something."
"Okay." She said rather enthusiastically. "We should go see something dumb and mindless. That way, you don't have to think. It all works out for the best."
"Yeah." Ray laughed." That's true." He started wondering where Lucy got this hatred for her brother, and considered asking her. Then he thought of the look in her eye when she said she hoped he got hit by a bus and died, and decided not to. She was serious. She said she wasn't, but that was just a cover up. A lie. Ray had interrogated murderers in his time with the Chicago PD, and he could tell when someone was serious and when they were lying. Lucy wanted her brother dead. Ray tried to forget this, and concentrate on the rest of the evening, but found he couldn't. He worried.

Ray stopped the car in front of her apartment. This, he decided, was the hard part. Should he kiss her good night or not. She looked at him expectantly. Ray choose to ignore this as a sign. There was no way to tell whether she wanted him to kiss her or not. If he didn't, maybe she would think he wasn't attracted to he. If he did, or tried to, she might think he was a jerk. There was no way of knowing.
"Are you gonna kiss me or am I gonna sit here all night waiting?" She suddenly asked, completely contradicting his chain of thought.
"Well." He began." I could kiss you, and that would be great. But maybe you don't want me to, and then I'll look like a jerk for trying."
She sighed, leaned over the seat and kissed him instead. He closed his eyes and let her explore his mouth with her tongue, tried to do the same back as best he could. The rest of the world started to fade out into nothing. Then she stopped and smiled at him, opening the car door, and starting to get out.
"Your sweet." She informed him. "And you got me home by midnight. My mother would be so proud." She leaned back over and kissed the tip of his nose. Ray shivered.
"I'll call you. I'd give you my number, but you know, with Greg here it's maybe not such a good idea."
"Yeah." Was all he could manage.
"Bye." She whispered and slammed the door. Ray watched her walk towards the apartment, then turn and wave, before disappearing inside with the wonder of a child on Christmas Day. Then he thought of the murderous impulse she seemed to have. There was a completely different person in those eyes. It wasn't the girl who kissed the tip of his nose, or suddenly burst into "Swing on a Star." when there was a lull in conversation, making him laugh till he was almost sick. He didn't think she'd actually DO anything, but...
He sighed and threw the car into drive, deciding not to think about it any more.

"So, you get laid?" Greg asked Lucy the second she walked in the door. Her face twisted into a grimace that Ray would have recoiled from.
"You're a fucking pig. I don't even want to look at you." She spat.
"That's a no then." He answered pretending not to notice that she had just screamed at him.
Lucia glowered and pulled a cigarette from her pack. She noticed that Greg hadn't changed position at all since she had left him almost five hours ago. She hadn't expected him to have all her clothes washed and folded, or the kitchen spotless, but to have at least moved an inch.
"I'm going to bed."
"Manual stimulation, huh? Good fucking deal." Greg remarked, then smiled expectantly. Lucia didn't let him down.
"Why don't you just FUCKING die Greg? Huh, do us all a goddamn favour and drop fucking dead." She screamed.
"Do you have your period or something?"
Lucia realised she was being baited, and decided to ignore him. She did, however, slam the bathroom door quite enthusiastically. Greg looked after her and laughed.
"You love me really!" He shouted. He wondered briefly if Lucia would kill him given half a chance, then dismissed it. She didn't have it in her. In the bathroom, Lucia sat on the floor and cried softly, trying to stop her mind from throwing up images of implement and other painful, 19th century deaths she could inflict on her brother.

Ray and Lucia had been going out for three weeks when Greg finally decided it was time to do the bank job. Lucia had managed to restrain her desire to at least smash Greg's face in with a courage he would never realise, and her relationship with Ray was going well. She was relatively happy with it all. She would have been very happy if it hadn't been for Greg's presence. She choose to pretend he wasn't there, finding this to be by far the best method of ignoring him, well, at least if she wanted to avoid jail. She and Ray hadn't quite gotten to the sex part of the relationship yet. There had been a lot of making out, and Lucia was quite clear on the fact that he wanted to. He never said anything, but it was pretty obvious. Lucy wanted to too. But she wasn't sure. She had finally decided that she would leave it until her brother left, or went to jail. His trial was scheduled to begin in under a week, and Lucy kept expecting to come home and find him gone, maybe leaving behind a note explaining that he would be back eventually, but he had to lie low for a while, and she shouldn't be so selfish. She wasn't the one who was going to jail after all. Greg had essentially this plan. Except, he planned to do his bank job first. He knew he would have to move soon, at least before his trial began. He drew up in front of the first bank of Chicago in a rusted Pontiac. And started to think. Maybe he shouldn't do this. It was Lucia's local bank, she had her money in there, and besides, he would only have time to get what was in the cash registers, and that wouldn't exactly amount to the millions he hoped. He would be lucky to get a few grand. Certainly not enough to buy his own Pacific Island.
"Not the point." He murmured to noone in particular. "My fucking money."
He opened the car door and stepped out. He had a different car stored a few miles out of the city. He had it all planned. He'd go to his buddy Rob's in New York, then move onto somewhere else. He hadn't decided yet.
He steeled himself up and walked into the bank. A bank where it just so happened that Ray Kowalski handled his finances, not that surprising, considering it was the closest to his house. Greg was completely unaware of this when he walked in, or that it was payday for the entire Chicago PD. And as he entered the bank, around twenty cops were currently receiving their paychecks for serving and protecting the city of Chicago.

Ray noticed the man with the gun come into the bank while he was standing in line waiting to collect his paycheque. Lucia stood beside him, chattering inanely about something. He had been listening up until this point, but his mind switched off to it as soon as he saw the man with the gun. He moved her out of the way with his arm, pulling his own gun at the same time.
"Chicago PD, down on the ground now!" He screamed standing with his feet apart and both hands on the gun as he had been trained to do.
Why didn't I bring my fucking glasses, he thought. He was a terrible shot without them, but he would just have to hope he could bluff it out.
"Greg?" Lucia said from his side. The man with the gun looked at her alarmed.
"What the fuck are you doing you son of a bitch?" She raged at the man, eyes blazing. She then continued in a tyranny of insults that would have embarrassed Quentin Tarintino.
"Lucia, I really don't have time for this cr-" The man began to say angrily.
"Well I can goddamn well see that!" She screamed back at him. "What the hell is wrong with you!? " Then added matter of factly. "This definitely violates your bail agreement, you know?"
Ray moved in front of her again, gun pointed at this Greg guy.
"Who is he?" He asked Lucia.
"That is my idiot brother." Lucia replied. "Who is out on BAIL, for attempted bank robbery."
"Put the gun down Greg. Nobody has to get hurt." Ray told Greg calmly. Greg pointed his own gun back at Ray.
"Lucy, I- "he began. But then Ray had lunged forward. Greg let off a round from his gun, trying to aim at the cop but away from his sister. Lucia screamed and her hand flew to her neck. All the blood left her face and she was as corpse like as she always claimed to be.
"Lucy, are you okay?" Ray asked her calmly. Greg hesitated for a moment, then fled.
"I'm fine, why don't you go-" She said weakly, before stumbling and falling to the floor. Her hand released the pressure from her neck, and blood jetted out at an impossibly fast rate.
"Lucy!" Ray screamed and dropped to the floor beside her. "Your gonna be okay. You really are. Just, breathe and shit okay. " He said softly, tears starting to coarse down his face.
"I'm fine. Really. "Lucia said quietly, then started to cry softly.
"Somebody call a fucking ambulance!" Ray screamed picking her up into his arms and holding her close.
"I won't let you go. "He murmured into her ear as her heart beating against his chest slowed then stopped altogether. He held her close to him and wept before the ambulance got there twenty minutes later.

"Did you catch the guy yet?" Ray asked Lieutenant Welsh huskily as he sat in the hospital. His eyes were puffy and red, and Fraser looked at him extremely concerned. Ray felt his phobia of hospitals rise up and threaten to overwhelm him, but stuffed it back down. He would get through this, for Lucy, then he would get the hell out of there.
"No, no they didn't. Twenty goddamn cops in that bank, and they still couldn't catch up to him." Welsh answered angrily.
"Someone was bleeding to death on the floor." Ray replied, looking at his feet. "Breaks the concentration."
There was an uncomfortable silence, which caused Ray to think of Lucia would always do something stupid during a silence to break it. Like singing, which was quite stupid, or kissing him, which he didn't feel was stupid at all. He started to cry again, softly at first, but then in loud gasps and cries. Fraser put an arm around him, trying to comfort him, but Ray shrugged it off. Looking at the floor. It was his fault. He knew it was. Why in god's name had he lunged at that guy? There was no reason for it at all. He had been afraid he'd shoot Lucia. She was so angry, and the guy was getting more and more tense, her calling him things Ray had never even heard of, He was sure this Greg guy was going to do it just to shut her up.
"Well, he did Kowalski." His mind told him." And whose fault is that? Sorry? Yup, that's right! Yours. All your fault. " He tried to resist it at first, but the voice was insistent. Eventually, he stopped trying to resist it, and gave in. Then a youngish cop in a uniform came in.
"We found the DiMarco guy." He said softly. Ray looked up at him sharply.
"Is he in custody?" He demanded of the young cop.
"Well..." The young guy began. "Not exactly in custody no."
"Then where the fuck is he!" Ray screamed.
"The morgue. They think it's him anyway. They can't." He paused briefly, disgusted "They can't really tell."

Greg DiMarco's death was quick, and pretty much unlamented. He had run from the bank unnoticed, and for that he thanked god. It had to be some kind of divine intervention. He looked around him sharply, wondering what the hell he was going to do with seventy-five cents in his pocket, and no car. He decided he'd take the bus out to the suburb where his second car was hidden and get the hell out of the city while he could. He didn't think much about Lucia, although he was aware of a deep sense of abhorrence and disgust at himself. Right now, it was very deep, and very unimportant. He could think about his sister later, maybe even call some hospitals and see how she was. It seemed like the right thing to do. He tried telling himself that this was how she would want it, although even he wasn't stupid enough to actually believe it. He cursed himself for being such an idiot and stepped into the street. The number seventy nine bus seemed to feel it had more right to occupy that space in the road than Greg did, and in that dispute the bus came out on top.

Ray hated funerals. This one seemed like the worst he'd ever been to. In her will Lucia had stated that everyone had to sing "Swing on a star" instead of hymns, and Ray had smiled at that, but it was a bitter, sad smile. After it was over, he stared at the place where a headstone would soon be. The ground was open, and the gravediggers stood nearby trying not to look impatient and stay out of sight. Ray noticed them however, and was terrified by the fact that they were waiting to shovel dirt on top of HIS Lucia. Dead or not, the thought someone shovelling dirt on top of her disgusted Ray, so he stood there. There was noone to arrest for this, as the man responsible had to be scraped out of the grill of a city bus, and was being cremated by the government. He thought of life without her, and ached. Her laugh, her smile, her. All gone. And it was his fault. All he could do now was stare at that blank spot where the gravestone would soon go, and hope he could forgive himself. He wasn't sure he could.






Okay, so you've read it, review it, please. Especially the part about the number seventy-nine bus, which was my personal favourite. Remember, Scottish, so Americanisation's go right over my head.