A/N: I came up with this story a while ago, and it has been eating away at me ever since. I really hope you like it! Read and REVIEW to let me know if you do!

These slack-jaws need to hurry the hell up, she thought as she tapped her foot against the tile of the bank. The line was obscenely long, and, as usual, she was stuck in the back.

It was something else being back in this town, especially for the reasons she was back. But, a month back, and two weeks working, she had yet to feel nostalgic. It was a Friday afternoon, and everyone and their mother were depositing their paychecks, herself included. And since it was Friday, Bob would scream down the stairs at her, and order her to make something. But, what was he going to do? After all, he has been bed-ridden for a good three months now.

Since her useless older sister fell for some upper class yuppie while she was taking care of Bob, and they eloped, it left Helga having to pack up, and fly back home after ten years.

She was half way through the line, which hadn't thinned out any since she got in it, and let out a long, frustrated sigh as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I don't know why I'm in such a hurry for, it's not like I'm looking forward to going back home.

A loud crash behind her startled her, and everyone else in the bank, as a barrage of loud gunfire went off. Helga immediately crouched down and put her hands over her head protectively, as other people started to scream next to her. "Everybody down!" She heard a man yell. Looking over towards the door, she could see a pair of men in sky masks, one holding a small automatic pistol, the other shoving a shotgun into a man's face, as he shoved him towards the wall.

Helga's heart went into overdrive, as she followed the other people in the group and crawled her way over to the counter. She leaned back against wall of the counter and looked around. The man with the shotgun was shoving a crowbar through the steel handles of the doors, as the other went through the line of people along the wall, holding his gun in their faces. "Any of you decides to play hero, you're dead!" As he past her, she felt herself seize up in fear, not moving a muscle as he continued down the line and continued to yell at people.

As the man with the shotgun jumped over the counter, and started emptying the cash registers, Helga looked over and saw the woman next to her in tears, as well as hearing a few others sob. She didn't cry, didn't feel the need to. She simply felt the need to survive, and right now, in order to do that, she simply needed to stay still. She was scared, yes, but she wasn't going to cry.

As the robbers barked orders to each other, one of them yelling out times, and running towards the window, the other told him to shut up and continued to raid the registers. Alright, they just grab the money, then get out, and I walk out of here without getting myself killed, so as long as…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the wailing of sirens. Helga felt a mixture of relief and dread fill her system. "It's the cops!" One of the yelled from the window.

"How the hell pressed the alarm!?" The one with the pistol yelled, coming up to where the bank employees were sitting.

"I didn't, no one did, I swear!" The bank manager told him profusely.

"Did you take out the bottom bills!?" He yelled over to the man still behind the registers. "God damnit! I told you to leave those! You screwed us!"

"No, we can still make it out of here!" He yelled back, coming around with a duffle bag. "We still have them." He pointed his shotgun towards the group of people sitting on the floor.

His car skidded to a stop, just outside the barricade, and he ran towards the communications van, flashing his badge at a uniform who tried to stop him. He didn't know much other than it was a ten thirty, and he was personally requested when they heard that it turned into a hostage standoff. He flung open the door to the van and started to ask for information. "What do we know?" He asked as he slipped on the headset that was being held up to him.

"Two men, Caucasian, mid to late twenties," The commanding officer read off.

"We have eyes?"

"Yeah, one has an Ozi, the other has a shotgun, alarm was triggered when they removed the bottom bills."

"So they aren't pros, that's for sure." He observed as he looked upon the small screen displaying the banks camera feed. From what he could see, there were about ten hostages being held at gun point while the other was pacing across the floor, randomly brandishing his gun at the hostages. "They're panicking, they're nervous. Get me a line in that bank," He shouted over to the other side of the van, "we need to calm these guys down."

Helga brought her knees up to her chest, as she carefully eyed the man pacing across the floor in front of her. She didn't know what was going to happen, and she couldn't help but have the thought of the look on Bob's face if she didn't come home to serve him that night. She mentally shook away the thought as it entered, she was not going to die here.

The robbers both jumped at the sound of a telephone ringing behind the counter. The man who seemed to be in charge quickly looked over to the other, and then made his way back behind the counter and answered the ringing phone. "What..." He said darkly.

"Hi, my name is Arnold Shortman. I wanted to talk to you." He said in a friendly voice.

"Well, you can forget it. Unless I walk out of here a free man, you can count on walking into a blood bath." The man threatened.

"Well, why don't we see if we can work something out? What's your name, buddy?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Arnold watched on the monitor, as the man looked over to his partner for a second, "Steven."

"Alright, Steven, what can I do for you to end all this without bloodshed?"

"A bus, pulled around the back. If it's not here in ten minutes, I kill a hostage, and I kill a hostage for every minute that passes after that." Arnold looked over at the commander, who shook his head sharply.

"I'm sorry, Steven, that's not enough time."

"You have ten minutes, clock's ticking!" The man shouted as he slammed the phone down.

"Get me a bus, and have is sent out to the back of the bank." The commander ordered.

"You're not giving him that bus, he wants to take the hostages with him." Arnold shot back as he pulled off his head set.

"You have a better idea, Shortman?" The commander spat, turning his head to shoot him a pointed look.

"What about the normal procedure, tear gas, snipers..."

"The bank is frosted glass, so we can't get a clear shot, and since there's two of them, tear gas would just get the hostages killed."

"And putting them on a bus won't?" Arnold shouted back.

"It's the only play we have right now. Hopefully, when he walks outside, our boys on the roof will take them out."

"Yeah, while the other kills as many of those innocent people as he can!"

"It's the only thing we can do right now!" The commander shouted.

Helga tried to take deep breaths to steady herself, to calm down. She has seen enough crime dramas to know how this usually ends up. And if her memory of Hillwood is correct, the nearest bus station is clear across town.

"This is getting out of hand..." The man with the shotgun said, as the other quickly went up to him and grabbed onto his shirt.

"You're not backing out of this! We've come too far!" He shouted in his face.

"They're gonna kill us, Steve!" Helga locked up as she saw the man step back and point his gun as the others chest, sending a hail of bullets into his heart. The loud popping of the shots reverberated through the bank, as people tried to scream over them. She hesitantly opened her eyes and saw the man standing over him with his gun still trained on him, as the other lay flat on the ground, his shotgun on the ground, its barrel pointed directly at Helga. She watched as the man walked over and picked up the shotgun and slung it over his shoulder.

He turned around and brazened his gun at the people next to her, yelling at them to shut up. Helga took a deep, shuttering breath, and felt herself start to hyperventilate, as her pulse slammed through her veins.

"Bus is en route sir," One guy said from across the van.

"Good, make sure the snipers are on position across the street, and..." The loud sound of rapid gun fire startled them, as Arnold quickly jumped over the monitor to see what had happened.

As he looked at the screen, he noticed one person in a black mask, lying on the ground, with another standing over him, a gun trained on his chest. "Get that line open, now!" He shouted as he put his headset back on.

The line rang a few times before it was being picked up. "You have my bus yet?!"

"It's on the way, Steven. But in the mean time, why don't you let me come in there." The commander shot him a confused, yet furious look, but he waved him off, "I'm a cop Steven. I'm worth a hell of a lot more than a couple of ordinary people. What do you say, man? You open the doors, I come in, unarmed, and we can talk, just you and me."

Arnold looked down at the screen, and saw him look over towards the front doors, and point his gun over to them. "If anyone but you comes through that door, I will kill the rest of them. You hear me?!"

"Like I said, Steven, I'm a man of my word. Just... stay calm, I'm coming in." Arnold pulled off his headset, and the commander was grabbing his shirt.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm going in there to talk him down." He shoved the commanders hand off him and grabbed a vest off the wall behind him, and pulled it over his head. "He's scared, even he doesn't think he can make it out of there alive. But if he thinks he's got nothing to lose, then he's going to start killing people." He strapped his vest on, and jumped out of the van.

He quickly jogged past the barricade, passing the swat team that had their rifle sites trained on the banks large glass doors. He slowed his pace once he was with in feet of the bank doors. He took one last deep breath, readying himself as he raised a hand and knocked on the glass.

Helga was lost in her thoughts that screamed inside her head, as she stared at the body that was lying in the pool of blood that was quickly enlarging around it. A sudden knock on the glass made her gasp, her mind recoiling to another gun shot. The lone robber made his way back around the counter and pulled the first person he saw up off the floor, a man in a business suit, looking about mid sixties. "Go open the door," the hostage, looking scared out of his mind slowly started to walk towards the door. "Now!" He shouted, sending the man into a much faster walk.

He pulled the crow bar out of the handles, and set it gently down on the floor, as he slowly pulled open the door.

Helga's vision tunneled at the man who walked through the doors. It couldn't be...

He stepped in, hands held up in surrender, a dark blue vest strapped to his chest. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt underneath, with a black tie, and black slacks, his blonde hair slicked back, with a soft smirk playing across his lips. "Hey there, Steven," his angelic voice pierced the air, and her heart. His deep emerald eyes remained glued on the gunman, who had his barrel pointed straight at his head. "You have me, why don't we let these people go."

"Not a chance! Close that door, now!" The gunman shouted at the older man standing next to the door, who quickly shut it, and put the crow bar back through the handles.

"Steven," He started taking a few slow steps toward the gunman, "a part of you has to know that there's only two ways out of here. And I don't want to see any more people die today, and that includes you, Steven. So, why don't you just... put the gun down, and let these people go. Then, you and me can walk out of here. Because if you do it without me, those men out there will not hesitate to put a bullet in you."

"Stop! Stop... stop talking!" The gunman shouted, his gun now shaking in his hand.

"Steven, if you shot me, I can guarantee you, that you won't be walking out of here with your life. Steven, there's been more than enough bloodshed here... let's end it."

The gunman's hand started shaking more, and Helga simply looked up at him, this golden god of a man, standing in the middle of a hostage stand off, talking down the man who just had a gun to her face, without so much as a bead of sweat. Her stare went over to the gunman when he let out a sob, and let his arm fall limply to his side.

Arnold quickly stepped up, and pulled the gun from his hand and set it on the ground, before turning the gunman around and pulling a pair of handcuffs out from behind his back, and putting them on the gunman's wrists. As the people on the floor with her were letting out loud sighs of relief, and thanking whatever god they believed in, Helga watched as Arnold walked the man in handcuffs over to the door.

He opened the door, and handed the man off to the swat team outside, and walked back over to the people still in the bank, most of them just starting to get off the floor. "Hey everybody, I'm Arnold Shortman, the hostage negotiator, is everyone alright?" He addressed the small crowd.

While most of the people were on there feet, she remained on the floor, her back to the counter, as she looked up at him in a mixture of shock, and awe. She was startled out of it by a hand being offered to her from her side. Helga looked up to the woman who had been sitting next to her through out the whole ordeal, and smiled as she took the hand offered to her, and got to her feet, however shaky her legs might be right now.

As people started to quickly make their way over to the door, Arnold was next to the door, ushering people out, most of them stopping to shake his hand and thank him for getting them out alive. Helga was probably more terrified now, than she was when there was a gun being waved in her face. She stood in the back of the line that was forming, and waited.

As the line quickly thinned out, the woman in front of her who had helped her up off the floor stopped and shook Arnold's hand. "Thank you so much, young man."

"I'm just going my job, ma'am, are you alright?" He asked sweetly.

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little shaken up, is all."

"Well, why don't you go get checked out by the paramedics, just to be safe." He ushered her out the door, as he turned to her.

Helga's system froze as he felt his soft gaze bore into her, as she averted her gaze, and started out the door, trying her best to hide the slight limp she was showing in her right side. As she past in front of him, he placed a gentle hand on her upper arm. "Are you alright, you seem to be limping."

Helga cleared her throat, and tried to hide her normal voice, by raising it an octave. "I'm fine, I'll just walk it off." She said quietly, not looking him in the eye. She took one more step, and hissed as she put her weight down on her right foot, having a sharp pain shoot up her entire leg.

"Whoa," He grabbed her arm to support her as she quickly took the weight off her injured ankle. "Come on, I'll help you to the paramedics, they'll take care of you." Helga didn't have time to protest, as he placed her arm over his shoulders, and placed his other hand around her back, his hand gently hugging her side, helping her walk.

As he slowly walked her out, and through the throngs of people, and over to an ambulance, her heart was doing flip flops inside her chest, as he pressed her into his side. As he helped her limp over to an ambulance, he turned them around and slowly helped her down. He stood back up and placed his hand back on her shoulder, but she still refused to meet his eyes. "I'll be back to check on you as soon as I can, okay?"

She nodded stiffly as she watched him jog off into the throngs of police and swat and into the large black van. As the paramedic spoke in her ear, she payed her no mind. Arnold Shortman was here, here of all places, a bank robbery! Not only that, he saved her, and everyone else in there. He stood there, with a gun being held to his face, not batting an eye lash, as he talked the gunman down and made him lay his gun down. She hadn't seen him in so long, and to suddenly appear here, it was so... surreal. But even more surreal, he didn't seem to recognize her.

Maybe if she played her cards right, he wouldn't and she could just drive back home, and pretend like this never happened. But... did she really want to? Sure, she left Hillwood and chose here mom's side after the divorce, but after she passed, she just decided to stay where she was. But now that she was back, could they really just... pick up where they left off, where ever the hell that was?

"Nothing more than a sprained ankle, miss. You probably didn't notice it because of all the adrenaline in your system. I'll put a brace on it, and as long as you stay off it for a while, and put some ice on it, you should be fine." The young EMT said next to her with a warm smile. Helga flashed a small smile back to her when she noticed that she was being talked to.

She was too distracted by the EMT pulling her shoe off, that she hadn't noticed that a certain hostage negotiator was making his way back over to the ambulance, his bullet proof vest now gone. "So, how are you feeling?" He asked as he came to a stop, and placed his hands on his hips.

Helga tried her hardest to speak, but her voice wouldn't go past her throat. "She's just got a sprained ankle, that's all." The EMT told him.

"You try to go to a bank and you end up getting a sprained ankle, what is the world coming to?" He asked in a light voice, trying to make her smile. The EMT was just finishing up wrapping her ankle in a brace, when she stood back up and went to the other side of the ambulance. Arnold sat down in the space next to her, and leaned forward on his elbows. "What's your name?"

Helga's eyes widened at the question. Should I lie? I mean, he's a cop, and he could probably find out anyway, and besides, he's Arnold, could I really lie to him? But isn't that why I should lie to him? She cleared her throat before finally finding her voice. "He-Helga,"

She heard Arnold chuckle beside her, "Really? I actually knew a Helga once." She was so mean to me, I couldn't stand her, she finished in her head.

"What ha-appened to her?" She asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm not sure, actually. She just kind of... left when I was in high school." She saw him turn his head and look back at her, with a soft smirk. "It's funny, you actually kind of look like her." Helga's pulse started to race again, but she still refused to meet his eyes. And after she didn't throw out an off handed response, she could tell that he was starting to pick up on something. "Wait," he leaned back, and turned to face her. "Helga? Is that you?"

She slowly turned her head around to face him, and finally look him in the eye, forcing out a small, sheepish smile. "Oh my god, I can't believe it's really you!" He beamed, as he leaned over and hugged her, making her go rigid. He hugged her for a moment, before letting her go and leaning back, flashing her a bright smile, his emerald eyes shining back at her. "When did you get back in town?"

She cleared her throat once more before continuing. "About a month ago,"

"Shortman!" A voice boomed from across the street. Arnold shot a glance over to the van, and saw that he was being waved over. Arnold let out a sigh, and stood up.

"Hey, why don't I buy you some coffee so we can catch up?"

"Uh, sure." She struggled out, her mind was still going a mile a minute. Arnold quickly flashed her another smile, and ran off over to the van again.

She didn't know which one was more scary, being held at gun point, and watching a man being killed right in front of her, or staring at the angelic, and extremely handsome face of her object of affection that she thought she would never see again.