Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine.

AN: SSA Arizona Robbins is back. What kind of trouble will she be getting into this time? Let's check it out. Fair Warning: Updates will not come daily. Sorry Otherwise… Enjoy!

Chapter 1

…Push, Robbins, push. A deep breath and I hurdle myself over a fence in two bounds. Grabbing the top railing, I haul myself over, momentum throwing me to the ground but I tuck and roll, the next second back on my feet and giving chase again.

"Stop! FBI!" I call after my fleeing suspect again, but he doesn't care. He's running, so I run after him. …why do they always run? "Stop!" I yell after him, my gun clenching in my right hand, radio in my left.

"Robbins, what's your 20?" My partner chirps over the radio. My lungs are burning as I push myself harder than I have in years. …damn, this fucker is fast. Skidding around a corner, I see him 20 yards ahead of me, barreling down a vacated alleyway.

"Heading south, alleyway between Chester and Brennan." I shout between ragged breathes into the radio. My boots pound against the pavement, my strides even as I push myself onwards. The man running from me knows he is running for his life, because if I get a hold of him, he is going to prison. And he doesn't have a lot of friends in prison. Barreling into traffic, tires screech as they avoid hitting the fleeing suspect. I bolt into traffic not three seconds later, more tires screeching as I narrowly avoid getting clipped by a motorcycle.

"STOP!" I yell again, even though I know its going to do no good. …jesus, what is this guy on? ! Down another alley way, barreling through trash, sending up fresh rain water at every stride. …I do NOT get paid enough for this shit. I see him enter an abandoned building 15 yards up. Skidding to a halt at the entrance, I raise my weapon and take a breath.

"Suspect entered abandoned building…" I look around for a landmark, trying to help direct my partner to my location. "Half a block south of Chester and Victorian intersection."

"Copy that." The voice on the other end of the radio crackles. Another breath and I kick the door open, the heavy metal swinging back and slamming against the wall. My eyes are on alert, ears tuned in for the slightest noise. Movement from a floor above me makes me bolt up the stairs. Feet are scaling the floors effortlessly. …are you serious? So I follow, one floor, then another, then another. My lungs are past gone, they are totally spent, but years and years of being the Marines, then even more years of running hard 'just for fun' has given me stamina beyond normal runners. I push myself, knowing that eventually this guy will get tired and slip up. …hopefully I'll still be hot on his tail when that happens. Getting to the top of the six story building, I raise my weapon and scan the hallway. Sweat is dripping down my forehead, the cotton shirt and blend jacket I have on does little to wick my moisture off my body. …so much for a simple home visit. Now I'm chasing this asshole all over Seattle. I move slowly down one direction of the hall, then I hear the crash of glass from one behind one of the closed doors. I try to open the door, but it won't budge.

"Fuck!" I yell, and slam my shoulder into the wood. It just laughs at my effort. Taking a step back, I raise my knee and give it a powerful kick, making the wooden frame around the lock crack. One more kick and wood splinters fly as the door swings back. Running over to the shattered window, I look down the fire escape, the perp only two floors down.

"You've got to be kidding me." I growl, and push myself through the window. The fire escape is old, creaking at every movement, but I have to trust it if I am going to gain any ground on this perp that I'm chasing. When his feet hits the pavement after jumping from the second story onto the top of a dumpster, then hopping down, he looks back up and sees I'm still on the chase.

"Jesus…" He growls, then takes off again. I follow his path, vaulting over the railing of the second story, landing on top of a dumpster with a loud clang, then hopping off. I can hear the sirens of my back up, meaning the guy I am chasing is going to start taking bigger risks in trying to avoid us.

"Stick to the streets. I don't need to get crowded in these alleyways." I huff into the radio between strides.

"Copy that."

I run as fast as my tired body will take me, slowing slightly but the suspect is slowing as well so I'm not falling behind any. …come on Robbins, dig deep. You've been trailing this guy for a year. Today you're going to slap the cuffs on him. A surge of energy, and I push myself even faster. I see the guy take a sharp right and cut through a public park, interrupting a game of basketball and kids playing on the playground.

"FBI! Stay back!" I yell, not wanting anyone to get in the way of a dangerous, spooked, and cornered man. Every stops and stares as we fly through the courts and onto grassy area. Hitting sidewalk again, he heads into the busy area of this section of the city.

"Backup, suspect turned West into SoSea." I reply, having to slow slightly to work my way through the crowds. Still able to make out the back of my fleeing suspects head, I keep trailing him.

"Copy that. Backup on scene."

Seeing him take a right at the next block, I follow, pulling my weapon again as he moves away from the usual foot traffic, into the more sketchy area of this part of Seattle. I've cut my tail from 10 yards to 5 yards, and I know he can feel me nipping at his heels.

"Give up Frankie! Your ass is mine!" I yell after him. "What's wrong, don't you want to see all your buddies in prison? I'm sure they'd love to see you again." Taunting him makes me feel stronger, urging my body on down the nearly deserted street. He takes a hard left in between two worn down brownstones. Skidding against the concrete, I turn and continue my chase, bolting between the two buildings. As I get to the corner of the building, I go to round it, just like I saw the suspect do not five seconds ago, when movement out of the corner of my eye makes me bring up my left hand to guard my face just intime to block a 4 by 4 being swung. A loud popping noise, and I feel a snap within my wrist. The surprise of it makes me fall back, my gun goes flying, my radio rattling as it skids across the pavement.

"Your ass is mine." Frankie growls, uttering the same words I used to taunt him. He raises the 4 by 4 above him and brings it down with force. I'm able to roll away just as it hits the concrete and splinters. Back on my feet, I assume a fighting stance. In the flash of an eye, this chase has turned into a hand to hand fight. Reaching behind him, he pulls out a switch blade, my throat going dry. …make that hand to knife fight. He lunges and I side step him, kicking his hand making him drop the blade.

Knowing my suspect inside out, I know he is a fighter. Like…an actual fighter. So, this isn't going to be an easy win. …get him down as fast as possible. He swings wide and I duck, another swing, another duck. My wrist is screaming at me, telling me I no doubt broke it. He reaches forward, grabbing me around the neck and slamming me against the bricks of the brown stone.

"You did all this, just to die within an arms grasp…" He sneers, his grip around me neck tightening. …focus Robbins, focus. Using what little strength I have left, I bring a foot up to his center, making his grip weaken around my throat. I grab his wrist, turn and push him into the building, bring his hands behind his back.

"Frankie O'Neal, you have the right to remain silent-" I start reading his Miranda rights, thinking I won this round, but Frankie has a different plan. An elbow to the side of my head makes me falter, losing my wrist lock on the man. Once again, its hand to hand. He swings, just clipping my jaw as I bring a hard right against his nose. I can feel it break under my knuckles as blood spills from it. A voice is crackling non-stop from my lost radio, looking for my location to back me up, but I can't get to it. Atlease not without turning my back to the huge man and I am not about to chance that. Another swing, and I see my opening. Blocking with my bad arm, I grab his shoulder with my good hand, swing him over my shoulder, bringing him down hard onto the pavement. His left leg comes down on to a large concrete block and the snap I hear makes my stomach roll. …atleast he won't be running anymore. Just then, a dark undercover police sedan pulls up outside the two brown buildings, back up tracking down my location. I am just getting the cuffs on the perp, who is screaming like a baby about his broken leg, when my partner runs out from between the two buildings, weapon drawn.

Holstering her weapon, she looks down as I finish reading the suspect his rights and cuffing him. "Nice work Robbins…" She says.

I look up, my face encrusted with sweat and dirt and the guys blood. "Thanks Teddy." I breathe out. "Call in a bus. He's going to need medical treatment before we can book him." I say, sitting back on the ground, taking a well deserved break. …jesus, that was too hard. I'm getting too old for this shit.

"SSA Theodora Altman, I need a bus at 1123 S Casey St." Teddy says into her phone as she collects my gun and radio from the alleyway. "ETA?" She asks, rolling the suspect over onto his back and pulling him up to sit against the wall next to me. "Copy that." She hangs up and squats in front of the cuffed man, sneering at him.

"How you doing, Frankie?" She asks, pulling up the material of his pant leg. Even I can see the bone is broken.

"Fucking bitch broke my leg. I'm suing both your asses." He spits at us. We just throw our heads back and laugh.

"It's called probable cause." I say dryly as I stand and brush myself off with my good hand, my left arm remaining close to my body to prevent any movement.

"Oh yea? And what's the cause?" He asks.

"You trying to nail me in the dome with a 4 by 4. You tried to kill me, old friend…" I say, squatting in front of the man. "I could have easily returned the favor, but I figure your friends in the pen would love to see you. I didn't want to deprive them of that pleasure." The sound of a distant siren pulls Teddy and I away from the man.

Once the cuffed guy has been restrained to the ambulances gurney, Teddy turns to me and asks "You let him get the drop on you?" Pulling my left arm away from me, I flinch when my wrist bends. …ow, fuck, yeah it's broken.

"Well, if I had half way decent back up, maybe he wouldn't have gotten his hands on that 4 by 4." I shoot back at her.

"Maybe if SOMEONE…" She points to me "…could learn her streets better, then SOMEONE…" She points back at herself "…could provide timely backup." She meets my glare dagger for dagger.

"Maybe if SOMEONE…" I point at her "would take foot duty… then SOMEONE…" I point back at myself "…could get some rest and therefore learn the proper street names."

"Foot duty? I was on foot duty and then you kicked me off!" She argues with me, "Because you said I couldn't keep up with the perp."

"You couldn't! He outpaced you within three minutes." I keep digging. To any outsider this may look like a couple of partners tearing into each other, but Teddy and I have developed this kind of working report. Teddy just waves me off as an EMT approaches me.

"Ms Robbins?" He asks.

"Agent." I correct him.

"Right, Agent Robbins, may I have a look at that wrist?" He continues. I nod and he gingerly takes my hand in his. Just the faintest of movements make me cringe in pain. "Yeah, you'll need to get that looked at."

"Why don't I just ride along. You'll need an escort anyways. I already proved I can handle that asshole with one bum hand." I reply, hopping up into the back of the bus with my cuffed friend. "You wouldn't mind if I rode with you, right Frankie?" I ask the perp, patting his bad leg which makes him scream like a little girl.

"See you at the hospital?" Teddy asks, walking to our vehicle.

"Yeah, Seattle Grace!" I call, then the doors of the ambulance close and we speed off through the city of Seattle. "Hey boys…" I get the attention of the driver. "No need to speed, this guy isn't in much of a rush to get to prison, right Frankie?" Again I pat his leg, making him groan in pain. I get a hard glare from the EMT, but I just brush it off. I've been after this asshole for more than a year, and knowing the things I know about him, knowing the things he did… he deserves alittle pain. …he deserves more than pain. He deserves hell. The bus slows, giving me time to brace myself to face someone who really won't be happy to see me.

AN2: Alright folks… let me hear ya. Should I keep it up? Let me know. Oh and really… this won't be a daily update, sorry. I got other things I'm working on… like a real book. Haha. Anyways, I look forward to all your reviews!