AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is slightly AU because the episode where Michael helped Paxson out does not happen.

Alex Hunter walked quickly up to the warehouse door. She knocked and was admitted by a burly muscular man with two 9mms shoved down his pants. The weaponry did not worry or trouble Alex unduly; she had everything planned. In case a gun was fired, the police could get there in two minutes tops. Of course a lot can happen in two minutes. But there was no reason to think anything would go wrong. It was just a simple fence.

Alex walked into the loading room. There were six men with guns; two were on the metal catwalk, three were placed strategically by the exits, and the last one stood behind a Hispanic man with slick back hair and a gray silk pinstriped three piece suit. He looked like your stereotypical crime boss. Despite the grimy settings, he acted as if he was in the middle of Buckingham Palace. He had a young face and some people said it looked slightly honest. That was probably how he was so successful at such a young age. In a weird way his charm and charisma reminded Alex of Neal. This man of course was Antonio- an extremely successful 'business man' and philanthropist.

Alex spotted Antonio and slowed her trot to a casual stroll. It would do no good to be seen to hurry.

"Antonio," Alex smiled," still as paranoid as ever.

Antonio returned her smile, "Alex, how good to see you again. Let's see the merchandise."

Alex drew out a brown paper package from her skirt pocket and slowly unwrapped it to reveal a gold cross. Antonio let out a small gasp. He snapped his fingers and a small man with slumped shoulders shuffled forward and took the package from Antonio. He marched back to a back room, where Alex assumed there must be a station to authenticate it.

"Can I get my payment now?" Alex asked.

Antonio motioned towards his bodyguard. The bodyguard walked forward and handed Alex a briefcase. Alex opened the briefcase and examined the money. Working with counterfeiters and being a part time counterfeiter herself, gave Alex a healthy distrust of all Benjamins. She checked the security strip and the feel of the money. She looked closely at the drawings. When the money passed her inspection, Alex nodded to Antonio and closed the case.

She held onto the handle possessively, waiting impatiently for the cue to leave. She kept glancing at the backroom wondering what was taking so long. Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. Finally the small man scurried out of the back room up to Antonio. On tip toes he whispered into Antonio's ear.

Alex felt relieved. Soon this whole thing would be over and she would have five million bucks and all for one gold cross- not bad for three months planning. Normally Alex didn't get her hands dirty. She was a fence. The thieves and con men contacted her, and then she found buyers- like a personal shopper for criminals.

However, ever since the nonsense with Vincent Adler and the Nazi sub, Alex was forced to lay low. So when Antonio came to her with a job, Alex jumped on the opportunity to make a quick buck like a starving dog on a bone. Five million for a gold cross; it was a no brainer. Now finally she was going to receive the fruits of her efforts.

Then, Antonio's face darkened. Alex instantly began to glance around for any signs of danger. Antonio motioned with his hand. Alex tensed. The bodyguard drew his gun. Alex lifted the briefcase to protect her head and most of her center mass.

BANG!

The bullet lodged in the briefcase. Alex turned and ran. She heard Antonio shouting at his men to get her.

BANG!

Alex felt an intense pain. The force from the bullet flung her forward. She scrambled to her feet. She almost made it to the door when one of the men stepped in front of her blocking her way. Alex charged at him. They crashed into each other and their combined weight caused the door to open and they tumbled out into the warm sunshine. The man was stunned and Alex hurriedly scrambled off of him lest he recovered quickly. She ran toward the mainly deserted road. Mistakenly glancing behind her, Alex saw the rest of the men had come out and were firing at her. It was a miracle she wasn't hit.

Alex spotted a Black Charger driving down the road. Alex ran to it and banged on the passenger window. The driver rolled it down, took one look at the men behind her and said, "Get in."

Alex wasted no time scrambling inside. She was surprised to see the briefcase was still in her hands. She could've sworn she dropped it. Alex clutched to her chest like a security blanket. The last thing Alex managed to say before she passed out was , "No hospitals." Yes, a lot can happen in two minutes.

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Michael Westen's foot hit the accelerator as the bullets flew by and he didn't slow down until they were on the freeway. Michael looked down at the passenger he just picked up. The gunshot wound to her back was spewing forth blood, ruining her fashionable gray blouse. Did she always dress up so nice to get shot? He reached over to the glove compartment, opened it, and wrestled a couple of dish towels out. Michael pressed the towels to the wound all the while trying not to get into a car accident. The next thing he did was take the exit to the hospital.

Michael called Sam up, "Hey, Sam, I'm going to be a little late getting back to the loft."

"Well, okay Mikey, where are you going to be?"

"The hospital."

"Whoa Mikey, are you okay, brother?"

"I'm fine, but my passenger isn't.