A/N: This is a new series of unrelated (perhaps some will be related in the future) one-shots. I receive requests in my tumblr inbox, and I write little one-shots/drabbles based off of those requests. Anyone and everyone can request anything so long as it's C.C/Lelouch and as long as it's put into my tumblr inbox in a polite format. The link to my tumblr can be found on my profile. Anyone and everyone is welcome to put in requests :) Not going to lie, some of these aren't going to be my best writing because it's not pre-planned and completely a one-sitting sort of thing, off-the-top-of-my-head story. And please, please, please remember, if you're going to make a request, to do it in my tumblr inbox. If sent in any other way, shape, or form, it will immediately be discarded. Thank you.
Catch Me If You Can
Request: Cops and Robbers! Lelouch is a rookie cadet and C.C.'s a brilliant cat burglar and he just happens to be in the right place at the wrong time and catches her in the act.
This was the part she always liked best, the part when she first slipped into the building. There was just something about the dark corridors and empty rooms that sent a delicious tingle up her spine.
Taking a deep breath and smelling the familiar mustiness that came with stealing into the oldest and most secure recesses of museums, C.C. quickly melted in with the shadows. Moving seamlessly with the dark, she quickly made her way to the glass case in which the beautiful Ezra Diamond, the world's largest and most valuable diamond, and most importantly, her diamond was displayed.
Grinning as widely as the Cheshire Cat, she set to work and soon enough, the enormous jewel sat in her palm. Purring with satisfaction, she carefully packed it into her backpack and cleaned up. Stage one having been cleared, it was finally time for stage two - getting out safe and sound.
She had always hated the second stage. Just because she stole from museums, it didn't mean she hated them. On the contrary, she adored them. They were the ones who told stories of the past unfiltered and as it was. Or at least, much less corrupted than history books, which was always written by the victors. But it was money over the museum, her life over history, and she could always visit the museum when it was legal to. For now, it would be enough to just get out without being caught.
She knew he was there before he even rounded the corner. She could hear his footsteps and see his flashlight. But she had noticed too late for her to hide and soon found herself nearly blinded with the sudden stream of light. Fortunately for her, she was going so fast, she hurdled into him. With a grunt, they fell to the ground, a tangle of arms and legs. She felt the bag slip out of her hands and cursed. Not the bag!
Scrambling up, she sprinted after it, when a hand caught her ankle. Falling hard to the ground, she bit back a groan. Now wasn't the time to cry over a little bruise. She had to get the hell out of there before the patrol called any back-up, which could be any second. Kicking him off, she stood up, when a pair of arm suddenly came out of nowhere and dragged her down one more time to the floor. Frustrated, she glared up at the man who was leaning over her, reciting her rights while pulling out a pair of glinting handcuffs. There was no way she was going to be arrested like this. Not after such a long and illustrious career, there was no way she was going to be taken out by some nobody cop who had happened to be in the right place at the right time.
So she'd do something about it.
Turning around so that she was on her back, she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist before pulling him down until their lips crashed into each other. He resisted at first, but not for long. They never resisted for long.
She felt his grip loosen as one hand tangled itself in her hair and the other rested on her hip, just above her holster. She stopped him before he could move any further down. Instead, she laced their fingers together as she gently pushed him onto his back so that she was on top.
It was a sweet kiss. He tasted like vanilla, and C.C. had always liked vanilla. Vanilla ice cream always went will with pizza, not to mention how it was a pretty white color. She wondered if he liked vanilla ice cream too, and if she had led another life, if she had met him in this other life, if they would have gone out one summer day for some vanilla ice cream.
Oh, well, what did it matter if they would have in another life when she was living this one?
She pulled away from him just before the delicate click of the handcuffs snapping shut around the metal bar sounded. His eyes widened and she smiled.
"It was nice meeting you, Officer, but I'm afraid I've somewhere to be."
Giving him one last peck that was almost apologetic, she stood up and calmly collected her bag just before making her escape. Just as the window quietly closed shut behind her, a squad of policemen ran into the empty corridor. They had heard noises, and it had sounded like there had been a fight. Could it have been…?
"Lamperouge?"
"What are you doing there? Why are you handcuffed?"
"Lamperouge, just because you're new, it doesn't give you an excuse to-"
"I have a DNA sampling of the thief." Lelouch raised his hand, and sure enough, a strand of hair as thin as a cat's whisker lay pinched between his fingers. "Thus, the identity of the thief."
"What? You're lying!"
"Then why don't we take it to the lab and find out who the true liar is?"
"We need to chase after-"
"There's no point. She's already far from here."
"How would you know?"
"A feeling. And some research, along with a little common sense."
His senior officers glared and grumbled - he had one upped them again, the damn rookie. But as Lelouch unhandcuffed himself, little did he know that the notorious cat burglar always wore a wig on her outings and that the strand of chocolate-brown hair in his grasp would not, in fact, yield the identity of the international thief the police had been chasing for several years.
But then again, it wasn't as if that was their last encounter. Oh, no - because if there was one thing that C.C. specialized in was, it was stealing whatever had caught her interest, and the smirk that the handcuffed police officer had given her as she made her get-away had certainly caught her interest.
Request Complete
