Thief of Hearts

Prologue: The Beginning of the End

(This is my first Die Hard fanfiction, its a Hans Gruber x OC romance sorta thing that will go slowly and start as a one sided thing, then turn to mutual lust, and then finally love. It will stick to the movies plot for a lot of it then branch off into my own plot and go from there. There will be lots of cussing, crude humor, and some sexual content - a lot towards the later chapters - and not to mention, death. Characters will die at my whim not when the move instructs it unless I write so, otherwise I own nothing but my OC and some of the plot. I will try and update as much as possible but I am a very busy person. Hope you enjoy, and please R&R!)

I had never known the difference between a liar and a thief until Christmas Eve of 1988. It had taken me almost twenty years to figure it out, and I had to realize the difference the hard way. And when I say hard-way, I mean like actually the immensely hard way; like she had to get kidnapped and used as bait by an extremely hot German guy hard way. But let's not get caught up in that just yet.

You see the difference between thieves must be established after you've seen them work, or if you know the similarities. Liars and thieves often have the same motives: personal gain, however the way they go about it is different. What confuses people is how liars often steal the truth and thieves often lie about their doings, but the difference between them, the real difference, is how far they are willing to go to acquire what they desire. Liars are the beginnings of what makes a thief, but not many can become a true thief unless they understand the stakes of getting what they want; a liar will steal, but a thief will kill.

Again though, I didn't find that out until it was a tad bit too late.

Music was blaring in my head phones as the plane touched down in Los Angeles with a rattle that shook the carrier and all the passengers in it. I was used to the jerking of the vehicle as I'd traveled many times before, this definitely not being my last. I was all alone on the flight, having traveled a mere one hour and thirty minutes, twenty of it wasted waiting for the tank to be refueled. I was meeting up with my mother and father, my father living in New York, me in Los Vegas, and my mother in Los Angeles. Funny how three people of the family lived in three of the most well-known cities in the country. Either way, my dad and I were both flying in to stay with the Captain, though I had hoped they could spend Christmas with mom I didn't know if mom would allow dad to stay, and having helped him through the hard times, I had no plans on leaving him alone for Christmas. Even if it meant sacrificing my own.

When mom and dad split up – not officially of course – life had become increasingly awkward and harder for everyone. Lucy, John Jr., and Holly all moved to Los Angeles, leaving John and I alone in NY to continue working his job. It was a sacrifice the whole family had to make, but it did stress some of the bonds between the family, my mother and father's most prominently.

I had decided to stay in New York because admittedly I loved the city and all its quirks. I thought it was exciting, all the crime and unexpected turns in life making it a fun place to nurture my youth in. Not to mention it was a great opportunity for education. I had taken many police courses there, having been requested by dad in case "a situation" called for me to need to be able to protect myself. I however didn't object all that much once I realized being able to kick ass was pretty useful, even though that wasn't my only strong suit it was a nice trait to have. I was a rather successful detective and engineer, working with computers was my strength and I had actually been offered a job in Las Vegas by a huge company to do some work on their systems. I had jumped on the opportunity, though dad was reluctant to let me go, I'd managed to convince him I would be fine; he had one condition however: I had to have a gun on me.

Of course it was merely a standardized pistol (that I knew how to shoot backwards forwards and with my eyes closed) but was only allowed to carry it because technically I worked for the NYPD, despite being somewhat underage. I was the exception thanks to her dad's persistence.

The plane jerked again, almost throwing me forward in my seat, however I managed to stay planted in my spot by gripping the arms of my chair with fervency, though it didn't stop my gun – which had been tucked away in the waist band of my jeans – to flip into my lap. The safety was on, but all the onlookers that saw the thing cringed and widened their eyes in horror. I rolled my eyes and popped the headphones from my ears, picking up the gun and tucking it away slowly as not to further frighten everyone. "It's ok, I'm a special agent, I'm allowed to have this."

Everyone seemed to calm down at that, if only slightly. Some obviously didn't believe the "special agent" thing (you could tell by how they rolled their eyes or shook their heads), which wasn't true, I wasn't anyone special, however I was allowed to have the gun, and if they didn't notice the leather jacket I wore spoke volumes about my position.

After making swift haste to exit the plane, I grabbed my bags and walked out of the airport to the directory where my ride should be. The business I had been working for on my trip had given me a car of my choice to get to the destination, naturally I chose a motorcycle, but dad would be riding too so I had to get something a little more subtle: a Ferrari.

Just a little bit more subtle.

I'd never ridden in one, let alone drive a car so fast, so when the opportunity arose I exploited it and happily got the request affirmed.

A medium-height man with glasses too large for his face was holding a sign with my name on it just up ahead, I smirked giddily and all but skipped over to where he stood, ecstatic to be able to finally ride in a fast car. "Mr. McClane?"

My jaw clenched, do I really look that much like a man? Dad's name was also on the board, but wasn't it obvious I was not a man? Maybe the glasses made it hard to see. "No, I'm Ms. McClane, my dad should be coming out anytime now." The chauffeur nodded and looked away, so I did, too. I mean, I couldn't entirely blame the guy for thinking I was of male genes, though I thought the skinny jeans (which clung to my hips) would give it away, I was otherwise wearing a male's attire though. I had on Germany jersey (Hans-Peter Briegel's to be exact, because he was hot as hell) and had a leather jacket over that, not to mention my hair which was pulled into a tight bun and I wore retro glasses. I however was still clueless to how I looked like a guy, I had boobs for Christ's sake! How do guys not notice that? Men only notice pretty woman Hadley. Actually, scratch that, they only pay attention to woman with big boobs and a round ass, you have neither.

I sighed and looked up, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of my father, when, out of the door I saw a man with matching sunglasses appear, holding a duffel bag over his shoulder and a large stuffed bear over the other. I smiled, knowing that was in fact my father John McClane; we made eye contact, even behind the glasses, and he smiled too, coming over in the direction of where I stood. The man nodded and turned to walk off, I followed, dad coming up behind me and wrapping an arm lovingly around my shoulder.

"Great to see you dad, how was your flight?"

"It was A-alright, not the same without you though, I didn't get to launch any spitballs at the flight attendants." John said with a tint of mock disappointment in his voice, his lips curling into a big smile he futilely tried to hide.

I gasped, clutching my chest in an equally as playful manner. "Why ever not?"

"You know very well why not! You always are getting me out of trouble with your excuses and puppy dog eyes…"

I snickered, more to myself as I recalled the memories of the frequent past flights with my dad. "Of course, of course, I'm here all week."

John rolled his eyes as the chauffeur handed me the keys – giving me a quick debriefing on the conditions of the car and such - and walked away. John held out his hand, "Give me the keys."

"Uh no. I'm driving, I'm the one that got us this car."

"You don't even know where you are going, let me drive."

"Actually you don't know where you are driving, I do. I've visited Nakatomi plaza before, remember?"

Thought flash across John's features before he put his hands up and reluctantly climbed into the passenger side. "When was that again?"

I slid into the deep seated car and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, the plush leather chairs were very nice and propped my back up in all the right places. "For my birthday, mom insisted I come over, I was gone for two days; more specifically the two days you tried to cook by yourself and blew up the oven."

"Oh, yeah."

I chuckled to myself and put the keys in the ignition, shifting the gear into reverse and revving the engine of the car.

"Remember, always drive-"

"Yes, I know. Speedily."

And with that we were off.

I pressed my foot far into the pedal, so much actually that both of us were pressed to the back of our seats. At this rate we would make it to the plaza in no time, or a long time if they got pulled over. I was going way over speed limit and swerving in and out of cars like in a mad chase. Definitely not legally. "I don't remember ever saying that, but this is quite ironic. Two cops breaking the law in the same car and for no apparent reason."

"Oh dad I clearly remember you saying that speed is a driver's best friend, and I learned from the best after all." I winked to my father, who rolled his eyes – visibly mind you – behind the glasses. "And about that, well, I'm just gonna say eff it. Its Christmas."

John chuckled, "Not yet it's not."

The rest of the ride was uneventful and mainly consisted of playful banter or small talk that was exchanged between us. We were both dreading the upcoming meeting, and tried to avoid it as long as possible. We couldn't hide from it forever though, and before either of us knew it they were on the thirtieth floor standing in the doorway of Holly's office. Holly Genero's office to be exact, something dad came across while trying to find her office that angered him to no extent, though he was very good at hiding it. We had been led in by some guy named "Mr. Tagwacki" or something like that (I don't know his name so I'ma just call him Tagwacki), he was quite obviously Japanese and even though I had met him before (albeit briefly) I couldn't help to recall his name. There was already another man in the room, he was young but we had met before and whenever he was around I always kept my body as far from his as possible. Not to mention he'd been sniffing coke when we'd entered, but that stopped as soon as Mr. Tagwacki, John, and I entered the room. Ellis I think his name was, I'd met him briefly at my previous visit, in which he'd tried to kiss me and I'd threatened to cut his manhood off. Oh bittersweet memories, mustn't have told mom, maybe it hurt his pride too much he'd been denied. I grinned.

"Ellis, this is John McClane and his daughter Hadley McClane." Mr. Tagwacki introduced us, purpose behind his voice. I had known he'd been after mom for a while but hadn't bothered to tell dad in fear he'd get angry, he seemed to reach the conclusion all on his own though.

"Holly's policeman?" His voice was nasally and he definitely sounded high, I had to suppress an internal cringe upon hearing it. How the hell did he retain a job here?

"Ellis is in charge of International Acquisitions." He should be glad he's in charge of anything, I suppressed a huff, glaring daggers at him while he wasn't looking. Just being in the same room as him irked me to no end.

Dad shook hands with Ellis, very stiffly might I add. "That explains the recent deal with Bolivia." Ellis pulled back quickly and ran a checking finger under his nose in terribly hidden fright. "Relax, Ellis. I'm off duty."I wouldn't mind kicking his ass anyhow I thought ruefully, my jaw clenching annoyedly.

"Can I get you anything? Food? Cake? Watered down champagne punch?"

"I'm fine." My dad answered with a wry smile on his face. Mr. Tagwacki looked at me and I declined with the incline of my head. There was a short lapse of silence while me and my dad looked out the window I decided to stay silent as long as I could, I didn't want to converse right now. "You throw quite a party. I didn't know they had Christmas in Japan."

"Hey, we're flexible. Pearl Harbor didn't work out, we got you with tape decks." Dad and I both shared a laugh, I liked this guy, he actually had a sense of humor.

"Actually, it's kind of a double celebration. We closed a pretty big deal today and a lot of it was due to Holly." I wanted to punch this guy in the face, and given the schooled expressions me and dad both had I could tell he was having mutual thoughts

I turned at the sound of footsteps, which overlapped with a familiar voice. "All set, Joe. The contracts went over the wire, and – John! Hadley!" Mom exclaimed looking at us both in surprise, though her and dad's gaze held longer.

"I was hoping you both made that flight."

"I was hoping you were hoping that." I would have said something too, had it not been a perfect moment of renewal for their love. I couldn't find it in myself to shatter it.

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering there before she pulled back and within a moment my mom's surprisingly strong arms were wrapped around my torso, pulling me into a great big hug that I returned fervently. Even though she'd abandoned me and dad for work, I couldn't stay mad at her, she was my mom after all, and she had enough stress as it was being all alone. "Hey mom, great to see you."

"How was the trip?"

"Uneventful, but the project is Las Vegas was insightful."

"You'll have to tell me later, we have a part to attend," she pulled back from the hug, a look of disapproval sweeping across her features as she looked at what I was wearing. "Really? You can't wear that, go change this instant!"

"But mom-"

"No buts, I want you to look nice for the party." She said sternly, her eyes telling me there was no point in arguing.

I huffed, I should have seen this coming. Dad was alright with me looking like a bum because then guys wouldn't approach me, but mom was quite the opposite. By no means did she want me to look like a stripper, no, but she did want me to doll up on occasion and show off how "beautiful" I am. I rolled my eyes exasperatedly, "Fine."

I turned (after giving my dad my bag, I had made it a point to keep my gun off me tonight because I wouldn't need it anymore which led me to stowing it in there) and left, shooting dad an apologetic look as Mr. Tagwacki began speaking again, something about mom's work ethic or whatnot… Man I really need to find out that guy's name. I shrugged and weaved in-between everyone, ignoring any glances my way or occasionally brush against my hind side of passing men. Usually I would have flipped my lid but doing so at a party would only make the tension in my family worse as my mom would gripe on me for being so impolite for kicking a dude in the nards and my dad would protect me for standing up for myself. Then he'd punch the guy in the face himself. Definitely unwanted family drama.

Getting inside the elevator I shuddered to myself and pressed the garage level button where I had parked my car. "I don't even want to imagine the amount of guys that will touch me when I get my dress on! God people in this city are sick…." Ding! "I take that back," I began to myself as I exited the elevator and turned in the direction of my red Ferrari, "men are sick." Opening the driver side door I picked up my duffel bag and quickly sifted through my clothes, picking out the dress I'd packed just in case the time called for it. I should have known honestly, but I was hoping mom would let me be a bum, guess not. Picking up the dark blue lace dress, I slung it over my shoulder and picked up a pair of spandex and some simple makeup supplies. "Go big or go home they say. Maybe if I look nice enough I can lure Ellis in like a catfish and get dad to punch him. That'd be a merry Christmas to me." I snickered to myself, "who am I kidding? I could dress up like a dog and that old hound would probably get turned on."

Turning to the door that led to the lobby, I entered with my stuff on my shoulders, closing the door behind me and failing to notice the Emory truck with the words "Pacific Courier" painted on the side pull into the garage behind my retreating form.