AN- Now we skip forward about seven years. Elaine is seven and Jim is thirteen. Sam ran off about two months ago. BTW- check out my deviantART exclusive, Beginning of the End.

Disclaimer- Don't own, never will.

Grand Theft Auto- Kirk Style

Jim ran over to the car. Frank was gonna sell it. Jim wasn't gonna let that happen. He hood-slid over to the driver's side door and swung it open. As he hopped into the car, he pulled the car keys out of his boot. He had stolen them from the key jar. He started the car and revved the engine. As he pulled out of the driveway, Frank ran outside, yelling.

"Don't you drive away in MY car, boy!" Frank yelled.

Jim replied, "It's not yours, it's my DAD's, asshole!"

With that, he tore out of the driveway and burned rubber. As he tore ass down the highway, he saw his friend, Johnny, going thru his daily routine of hitchhiking a ride home.

"Hey Johnny!" Jim yelled. Johnny looked at Jim, cruising down the road, startled. It was then that Jim noticed a police bike following him.

"Citizen, pull over," the cop ordered him. Jim pulled the wheel sharply to the right. The car swerved and took off down a dirt road. (AN- Think Dirt Road Anthem) The cop swerved and sped down the road after him. As Jim slammed thru a gate, he was starting to get scared. He realized that a cliff loomed before him.

Jim jerked the wheel to the left and propped the door open. As the car went over the cliff, he threw himself out of the car. As his momentum carried him over the edge of the cliff, he grabbed the edge. The cop stopped and watched as Jim pulled himself up. Jim stood up and dusted himself off.

"Is there a problem, Officer?" Jim asked the cop.

"Citizen, what is your name?" the cop replied in the form of a question.

"James Tiberius Kirk, sir," Jim replied proudly.

"Come with me, Mister Kirk," the officer ordered. And Jim did. The officer drove Jim to the police station. As they treated his random scrapes and bruises, he remembered that he was supposed to pick up his little sister from school today.

"Sir, I gotta go home!" he pleaded with the officer watching him, "Please!"

"Why?" the officer sighed, having heard all of this before. At that moment, the station chief walked in. She was a striking brunette with twin pistols strapped to her hips. She sat next to Jim.

"Why do you need to go home?" she asked Jim kindly.

"I have to pick up my little sister from school, ma'am. She's only seven," Jim explained.

She smiled, "I'll go with you. Keep you outta trouble. I'm Lindsay, by the way."

Jim smiled weakly.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# ! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

When they got to the school, the middle school doors were just opening.

"We'll have to wait another half hour for the elementary kids," Lindsay told Jim.

"No we won't. Look," Jim pointed. A tiny redheaded girl was running towards Jim.

"Jim!" she cried, hugging him, "How are ya?"

Then she noticed the officer. "What'd you do now?" she asked him, sounding slightly irritated.

"I'm Lindsay. Your brother had a little incident. What grade are you in?" Lindsay asked her.

"Sixth," the girl replied sweetly, "I'm Elaine."

Lindsay sighed, "Come on, I'll drive you both home."

"Okay!" Elaine giggled. She hopped into the car.

"You said that she was seven. You didn't say that she was a genius," Lindsay accused Jim. Jim smiled.

"You didn't ask, now did ya?" Jim replied, sliding into the front seat. Lindsay swore.

"Damn Kirk kids," she muttered. She slid into the car and drove them home. When they got there, both kids jumped out.

"Stay out of trouble," Lindsay yelled as she drove away, headed back to the station.

AN- Yup, good times. I'm going to tell you now, Lindsay has a pretty good sized role in all of my stories. She plays a pretty major role. Hint: she's mandokarla. BTW- I'm gonna pause on this story and work on a small Christmas story for you guys. It'll be one or two chapters in length. Oh, I also hope to get both of my other stories out of hiatus soon. I'm at a point of writer's block on the sequel to this one. The other one, I have yet to type the next chapter. Call me lazy, or a bitch, I don't care. I don't give a damn what you call me as long as I can keep posting chapters.