So here's the second chapter. I'll admit, when I first wrote this I intended this to be two separate chapters, but I'm impatient to get the rest of the other characters and the actual story. So you guys get a long chapter! Woo for you!

On another note, I plan on updating every week on Friday unless I get impatient and update randomly, but you can always depend on a chapter every Friday. And just so those of you who doubt I will finish this story…I've already finished it. I'm just going through editing and revising it before posting, so you can be committed to this story and not be disappointed when I stop.

And on a last note, I'm not sure I'll put another link in just yet because I'm not really interacting with this new character. Take your guess as to who it is.

I don't own anything except the plot and OCs.

Chapter Warnings: B&E, swearing, mild violence.

Chapter 2

"What time is it?"

"10:43."

"Why are we still standing here?"

"We have to make sure they're gone," I answered quietly, tugging on my hood to make sure it was still in place before zipping my jacket up all the way to hide my eye-catching yellow shirt. "We don't want to chance getting caught."

Jess shifted impatiently. "They're always gone by ten o'clock. I know this. I've watched them for two weeks! You don't think that's enough preparing and being safe?" His brown eyes cut through the darkness, glowing with indignation and impatience.

"It's not that and you know it," I whispered, eyeing the building across the street. "No matter how we prepare we need to make sure that the coast is clear by waiting an hour."

The building was in good shape, a good twenty minute walk from my house. It was two stories even if it looked like three. The bottom floor was about twenty feet tall with three garage doors locked tight to the left side of the building and a small door and bank of windows showed where the reception area was for the business. A line of windows above the garages told of a second story where the owner probably did paperwork and counted the money. It was made up of brick, showing its age with its architecture, but looked like it was cleaned and trimming was painted periodically. A sign that read 'FIREBIRD AUTOSHOP' sat about the reception door, done in flaming paint and graphics. It was pretty cool looking actually. All and all it looked like a healthy business that no doubt had a bunch of money behind its locks and security.

"Oh, please," Jess snipped, crossing his arms. "We haven't played by your 'safety' rules ever since you left and we haven't gotten caught once. You're just being paranoid."

"Look, I'm just looking out for all of us. Do you really want to end up in juvvie?"

"And you've shown us that so well," Mike drawled sarcastically from where he was leaning against a doorway, messing with his phone. "What with bailing on us for over a year and then coming crawling back. Yup. The picture of a good friend." I sighed and rubbed my forehead, unsure how to respond since it was the truth and any reply that immediately popped to mind sounded weak.

"Where's Jess?" Cal suddenly asked, speaking up for the first time since I showed up.

My head jerked up and my eyes flew to the spot where Jess had been a moment ago. My heart started racing when I realized that he was gone and I got up from my place on a bench, looking around quickly. It took less than a moment to spot my idiot friend, approaching the door to the Firebird Autoshop. "You idiot!" I hissed before pushing myself to go after him. He was going to get us all caught if he kept this up.

I made sure to stick to the unlit portion of the small parking lot to avoid being seen by any possible cameras or onlookers. Jess was waiting by the door with a shit-eating grin when I finally stormed up to him. "Are you insane?" I whisper-shouted.

His smile only grew as he stepped back, giving me access to the door as I heard Cal and Mike come up behind me. "After you, my saboteur," he drawled in a horrible French accent.

My disgusted look caused his smile to drop a bit, but I moved towards the door anyway, dropping to a knee and pulling out my lock picks. "Do you even know what that means?" I asked, glaring at him angrily as I jimmied the pieces of metal into the small lock. My kit was all homemade, picked up from the nearby junkyard, but it was like my backpack, still serving me well. It didn't escape my notice that Jess wasn't chastised at all for his reckless actions. If anything, I might have heard someone patting him on the back.

I was a bit rusty, being out of practice for so long, but I had the door unlocked in a minute. A faint beeping sound reached my ears the second the door open and I was rushing inside on silent feet as quickly as I could, scrambling to locate the security panel. The mental clock was ticking in my head as I snapped open the device attached to the wall, pulling out a tiny screwdriver and frantically taking away the button cover. Underneath, a plethora of wires revealed itself to me and I squinted at it, tracing the functions of each wire before snapping my hand up and detaching a lone black wire. My shoulders sagged in relief as the device gave a happy chirping sound and the screen read DISARMED.

Someone slapped my shoulder and I nearly face-planted into the wall. "I knew you had it in you," Mike murmured before leaving me to fix my handy work.

I had just finished screwing the plastic cover in place when I heard Cal swear, "Are you fucking kidding me?" My head turned to see the small Goth teen glaring death down at an empty cash register. "It's empty!" He slammed the drawer shut and I flinched at the loud sound.

Jess hurried over. "Is there a safe or something under the counter?"

"No."

The dirty blond teen audibly ground his teeth. "God-fucking-damn it. Where else would they keep the money? Stupid fuckers!" He turned and kicked the barstool behind the counter, sending it crashing down in a cacophony of noise. I was about to snap at him to be quiet when Mike spoke first.

"We don't need the money," Mike suddenly cut in and we turned to see him standing by an open door that led into darkness. "There is probably thousands of dollars' worth of tools in here. More than any money we'll find laying around."

Cal's and Jess' attitude did a 180 as the hustled over to the door, pausing only for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust before continuing on. I reluctantly moved over to the door, burying my hands in my pockets and heaving a sigh as my conscience screamed at me that this was wrong. I was aware, but what else could I do?

I watched the three shadows that were my friends move around the large garage as I slowly entered it, standing by one of the two cars parked in the space. From experience, I knew we would be out of here in no time as soon as they grabbed an armful of tools we could pawn off. So I was a bit surprised when Mike cursed this time. "Where are the tools?" he demanded.

The rattling sound of metal made me flinch again as I moved over to where Jess was fighting to pull a drawer to a tool box open. "The boxes are locked," he growled.

Another rattling over where I knew Cal was told me he tried as well. "All of them are," he corrected, sounding very unhappy.

"Alex," Mike called, but I was already kneeling by Jess' box, fingers and eyes straining for any key hole. A frown tugged my lips when I only felt smooth surfaces. "Well?" the biggest of us prompted as he came up behind me.

The answer suddenly dawned on me and my fingers traced over two small bumps on a raised flat surface. They were lights. "It's electronic," I stated, running my fingers over the raised flat surface. "Probably a keycard scanner. There's no way I'm getting this open."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Great. Just great."

"Shit mother fuckers!"

"Be quiet," I hissed, standing up again. "You'll get us all caught."

"I don't care!" Jess snapped, storming over and picking something up. "These bastards think they're so awesome keeping us out," he snarled as he moved to one of the cars and I was running over to him in the same instant. "I'll show them!"

I caught his arms just as he was about to throw whatever object he had, holding him back. "Don't you dare!" I growled. "It's bad enough that we're here to rob the place, don't damage it!"

"Since when do you care? Huh? Once you were always the one finding us new places and the first one in. What the hell happened to you?"

"I grew up! I refuse to steal for the res to of my life. I'm better than that."

Jess snorted. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. High and Mighty."

"Jess, Cal," Mike called lowly, walking over to Jess and I. "Find the door that goes upstairs." Even in the pitch black I could recognize the dangerous look on his face. It was a look that you ran from and one that even scared me despite my confidence in my fighting abilities. Mike had a good fifty pounds on me and most of that was muscle. Even if I did fight him I would be hard pressed to keep from getting hurt. Jess immediately scurried away while I stood my ground, glaring up at the larger teen. It was by pure will and stubbornness that I didn't flinch when a large hand landed roughly on my shoulder as the teen loomed over me in a show of intimidation. "I don't know what the fuck your problem is," Mike snarled, shoving me back with tremendous force. "But you better get your head out of your ass. You're here and you're helping us or so help me I will kill you."

My lip curled at the threat. "Oh, yeah, right," I snapped back, anger clouding my mind. "You're too stupid to even throw a punch the right way even if you were given a map and a compass." I realized my mistake an instant too late.

Colossal hands slammed around my upper arms like steel bands and I had to consciously keep myself from lashing out in self-defense as I was lifted off the ground by the bruising grip. "What. Did. You. Say?" the teen spat, spraying his spit all over my face and I spared a quick prayer to whatever god was listening that Mike didn't just pass on any disease or STDs with that spit. I wasn't going to pray for my life seeing how I could already protect it.

And if I had already pissed him off, why not make it worse? "Dude," I drawled nonchalantly. "Say it, don't spray it." The grip tightened on my arms painfully enough to force a hiss of pain out of me, but before Mike could do anything we were blinded.

The lights had just turned on. And an angry cold voice echoed over the room. "What are you doing in my shop?"

Four sets of eyes turned and locked on to the figure, standing in the doorway that most likely led upstairs. He was hold an aluminum baseball bat, but that wasn't the only thing intimidating about him. The man with a dark tan was about as tall as Mike, wearing worn blue jeans and a grease-splatter, tight, white shirt that clung to every single muscle in his chest and showed off his biceps. He had black hair, short except for the two locks of hair that framed his eyes with a red streak in each. The man had a strong jaw that was currently flexed in anger and dark blue eyes that were practically glowing in fury. One part of me was frozen in fear. The other part was frozen in awe, staring at this fine man.

The frozen tension in the air was broken by Jess swearing and making a dash for the door with Cal right on his heels. Mike's grip on my arms disappeared suddenly and I found myself experiencing the sick sensation of flying backwards before my side slammed into a car. The car alarm blared to life, wailing its distress as I collapsed to the floor, gasping as my wrist flared in pain when I tried to catch myself.

Despite the pain in my elbow and wrist, I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door as well, casting a glance over my shoulder to see if I was being pursued. My heart almost stopped when I saw the man was just standing there, watching me with a curious look on his face. Our eyes met and held and I knew he'd seen me and knew my face. My chest flared in suddenly heat, causing me to stumble a step before panic and fear forced me out the door and onto the street. The heat in my chest didn't fade until I snuck back through my bedroom window and lay in my bed, panting from my run and shock.

Oh, shit. I was in deep trouble.

The only reason I went to school the next day was for two reasons. One, I knew it would be suspicious if I stayed home after an attempted robbery. If the police were looking through the school for a teenaged blond student and saw that he was obviously trying to stay out of sight by staying out of school then I would be the first suspect. Two, I didn't want to stay home with my mother and hear her coughing and moans of pain. I'd stooped low last night to try and help her and I'd failed miserably. Not only did I not come back with even a penny, but someone saw me and could report me to the police. And on top of that I got hurt. My entire left arm was bruised as all hell. My wrist was swollen and I begged any god that was listening that it wasn't broken and my elbow hurt a bit whenever I moved it. I couldn't exactly do anything about it, so I just stuck my left hand in my pocket and resolved to keep it there all day.

I was constantly looking over my shoulder on my way to school, but no one was following me and no cops appeared from thin air.

Due to my paranoia, I arrived at school earlier than usual, so I was sitting in my 1st hour classroom for quite some time, working on an extra credit assignment, when my friends walked in. I didn't look up and acknowledge them, hoping they would get the hint. They didn't. Jess slammed his backpack down on his desk before leaning down and hissing in my ear, "What the hell?"

Before I could reply to him, Mike's heavy hand fell on my shoulder, keeping me from moving too much as he leaned down and got in my face. "Are you so fucking pissed at us over something that you purposely tried to get us caught last night?"

I spluttered and tried to shrug off the hand. It stayed there. "Of course not! If you got caught then so would I and I don't want that."

Cal crossed his arms and stood in front of me, all three of them boxing me in and making me feel cornered. "Then why were you constantly distracting us last night? If you had just shut your mouth we would've noticed the guy," he said coolly.

My ears must be lying to me. They did not just blame all of last night on me. I gaped up at them and their judgmental expressions. "Are you kidding me?" I demanded, keeping my voice down low enough to not draw too much attention but to still convey my shock and disbelief. "You're blaming all of that on me? When Jess went in before we were sure the place was empty and started trying to break everything under the sun? Or when Cal started cursing up a storm? Or when Mike decided that beating me up was more important than what we were supposed to be doing? Are you seriously blaming all of that on me?" An unfamiliar heat grew in my chest, just under my sternum and I associated it with my growing anger.

"Yo!" Jess snapped, anger flashing in his usually cheerful brown eyes. "I thought we were tight, Alex. Where do you get off trying to blame me?"

"And after everything I've done where do you get off trying to blame all of last night on me?" I retorted.

Mike growled and Cal was scowling darkly. "You haven't done jack shit," Mike snarled and I knew a few classmates were beginning to look our way. I stiffened when Mike grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me up and out of my seat, leaving me scrabbling at the ground with my toes. "And don't think I've forgotten what you said last night. You aren't getting away with mocking me."

My anger grew and so did the heat in my chest. I glared up at the taller boy. "I dare you," I said, clearly enunciating each word.

Those dull green eyes flared in hatred as he pulled back a meaty fist. "Why, you—!" Even as that fist began moving towards me I was bringing up a knee to hit the teen's nuts and an army to smash the wrist to get him to drop me. I wasn't going down without drawing blood first.

"What is going on here?" a shrill voice called hotly and Mike and I froze before turning to see a teacher from across the hall standing in the doorway with hands propped on her hips. "Do I need to get the principal?" she demanded, threatening us with a knowing gleam in her eyes.

I gritted my teeth and blew out a quick breath, dropping my knee down. "No, ma'am," I answered calmly. I did not need a black mark on my transcript.

"No," Mike growled, dropping me suddenly even though my balance allowed me to avoid stumbling.

"Good," the teacher huffed. She then pointed a long painted fingernail at me. "Mr. Steek. Please move to the front of the class. We don't want to have further trouble, now do we?" My shoulders almost sagged in relief and the lady teacher must've seen the gratitude in my eyes because she smiled at me. I was so bringing her a gift for teacher appreciation week. "Don't let me hear of anymore trouble, okay, boys?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied instantly, grabbing my backpack and papers and moving to the empty desk nearest to the door. It put me the farthest from my former friends and closest to my escape route. Always be prepared. Mike and the other two grumbled and shuffled in reply, slowly taking their seats, but I could feel the glares boring into the back of my head. I ignored them with ease as the teacher gave one last warning look before leaving the room just as our teacher came in. The day had begun and I rubbed my chest, easing the slight heat in it.

The next three days that make up the rest of the school week I'm on high alert. My former friends are not lacking in the dirty looks and angry glares department, but I resolutely ignored them, careful to not even look at them lest they take that as an invitation to approach me. After school, I wandered around the city, still asking for jobs with a pitifully tiny resume in hand. In between searching for jobs, I went behind restaurants, looking in the dumpsters for any leftover food. Yeah, it was disgusting, but food hadn't been put in the fridge at home in over a week and the good bread I ate for breakfast was gone. I'd seen the takeout containers that were taking up space in the garbage can, so I knew at least my mother and father were eating.

The odd jobs I was taking on had gotten me about 40 bucks, but that was nowhere near enough to get my mother her meds. I heaved a sigh as I wiped my filthy hands on the inside of my jacket where no one would see before looking up at the sky. It was about seven o'clock and I wanted to stop in at this out-of-the-way diner and see if they would possibly take me on. I took a quick minute to take off my jacket and carry it on my arm so the resume I was carrying wasn't so obvious and so I didn't look too much like a punk; my piercings and black bangs were already bad enough, but there wasn't much I could do to change that.

A quaint sign reading 'Dan's Diner' buzzed and flickered cheerfully as I walked through the swinging door, ringing the bells hung on the door handle. An old man looked up from where he was drying a glass by the cash register. It was late enough in the night where there were only one or two customers occupying the place. The old man smiled at me. "Hey, kid. What can I do for you?"

I forced a smile back, pushing back my stress and negative emotions of the past few days—weeks—and called up my cheerful attitude. "I was actually wondering if you happened to have any job openings here," I replied easily, walking up to the counter and resting my elbows on it, careful to not get close enough to the other man that he didn't think I was crowding him.

"Jobs?" he repeated, smile dropping a bit before he frowned and looked me over closely. "How old are you, kid? 15? 16?"

My forced laughter actually sounded natural from tons of practice over the years. "Close. 17."

The old man nodded and I waited for the words to come from his mouth. 'Sorry, but you know the laws'. 'You're just not old enough'. But instead he hummed thoughtfully. "How badly do you want a job?" he asked instead.

My smile thinned a bit as I snapped my eyes to his, evaluating the emotions and thoughts passing behind those grey eyes. There was actually a bright shine of kind interest instead of the calculation or elation at possibly having a kid willing to do anything for cash. Anything that can be done from the privacy of a back room. I'd had offers like that and I hadn't even deigned them with a reply before leaving the place. This old man just seemed concerned and willing to help. My smile dropped entirely. "Badly," I answered simply, letting the man see past my cheerful and sociable façade.

The old man nodded. "I need cheap help badly," he replied before holding up a hand to stall my protests. "Not too cheap, I swear. But we're just a small business that's run by me and my wife. We can't pay those minimum wages."

I relaxed a bit and looked over the old man again. He was in his late 60s, I would presume. His grey hair was thinning and the tanned wrinkles on his face only added to his aged appearance. He didn't have a large gut like I'd typically seen on old men, but he was wiry and corded with muscles. Those weathered hands, holding the cup and towel, actually interested me. I could see callouses thick all over his hands, speaking of a hard worker throughout all of his years. And I could also see the stressed lines and misaligned finger joints that told me that the old man suffered from arthritis. "What kind of pay are you talking about?" I asked after a long moment in which the old man let me eyeball him.

"Seven-fifty. I'll let you work as many hours as you can as long as your grades don't suffer. A kid like you should be focused on school and going to college."

I thought over the offer critically before nodding. "Alright. I'll bring you weekly reports on my grades so you can see for yourself and I get to quit whenever I want should this turn out shadier than it looks right now."

The old man smiled a bit, mischief and amusement shining in his wise eyes. "Not a trusting one, are you?" I just stared at him and his smile grew before he stuck out a wrinkled hand. "You got yourself a deal. And don't worry about having your rabbit hole. I won't be able to actually put you on my tax reports or anything official since you're still a minor. Any pay you get will be cash and under the table."

I grasped his hand and shook it firmly, an honest smile appearing on my face for the first time in a while. "Sounds good to me. I'm Alex Steek, by the way."

The old man looked surprised, the sheepish, and finally amused once more. "Ah. Got caught up in all this deal making I forgot to tell you the most important part. I'm Daniel Velocidad, but you can just call me Dan. Here. Follow me, I'll show you what you're going to be doing and introduce you to my wife. She's the one that makes this business run." I shared a smile with the man as he said the last sentence, obviously joking about his contribution to the work load before following Dan as he got up and moved back into the kitchen. "You'll be doing mainly the dishwashing and busser part of the job. But if it gets real busy you'll be helping either me or Marsha with serving food or making it. Marsha, honey!"

An absolutely tiny old woman looked up from where she was scraping a flat top stove before smiling brightly up at up. She probably only came up to my upper chest and her thin frame didn't help her at all. Hazel eyes twinkled from underneath thick glasses as the woman reached up and adjusted the fishnet holding her short hair back and away from the food before she wiped her hands on her apron. "Dan," she greeted back warmly, but her eyes stayed on me. "Who's this?"

I stepped forward and offered her my hand to shake. "I'm Alex Steek. And I think I've just been hired to be a busboy and dishwasher."

Dan quickly filled her in on the details of our deal and she glared half-heartedly at her husband, smacking him on the arm. "We're cheating the boy out of his first real job, you old coot," she chastised before looking up at me with worried eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? It's a lot of hard work."

I shrugged and smiled warmly back, feeling my heart and mood lift for the first time in a while at the positive turn of events. "I'm not one to shy from work. I even have a food handler's card. And I do really need this job. And even if I end up not liking this place Dan here has given me an easy way out."

Marsha didn't seem all the way convinced, but accepted it. "Oh, alright. But only if you work no more than 20 hours a week on school weeks and 40 non-school weeks."

I grimaced at the restriction, but I knew from the second that Dan said that he couldn't pay me minimum wage that I couldn't work endless hours and bleed them out. The hours would give me some free time and allow them to still keep some money in the bank. "Fair enough. I promise I'll work hard. You guys won't regret this."

Dan smiled and chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife in a hug. "I knew from the start I wouldn't regret this. Don't worry, kid. I have a feeling you're going to fit in just fine here." I just looked at him in confusion before he laughed and shook his head. "Don't think too hard on it. Come with me and we'll figure out your shifts for the next week."

I fell asleep with a grin on my face that night, ecstatic that I'd actually gotten a decent job. Finally, a steady and mostly legal way to get money.

Please leave a review and tell me your thoughts or any grammar, spelling, writing problems I have. I would love to hear what you guys have to say!

And check out sleepyoldvamp's AU that inspired me to write this:

art.(c) (o) (m) (forward slash) gallery (forward slash) 236 762 78 (forward slash) Chasing - The - Flame

Hint: Remove the parenthesis and the spaces and plug in the forward slashes when necessary. And it might just be easier to go to my profile and find the link to Sleepy from there. Just be warned that there are pictures of neeked people and yaoi.

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