A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you like this story, but after this chap you might be angry...I do not condone violence but...heh heh...happy reading!

Lieutenant Con Riley shut the door behind him as he entered his office. Placing the papers he held in his hand on top of the ever growing pile that was already on his desk, he picked up the phone, punching in the numbers to Nancy's cell phone. It wasn't unusual for her to be late like this, it had happened before, but normally she called ahead, warned him that she would be. He figured that maybe she had an appointment or something else planned, something she had told him about days or even weeks ago, and now it had just slipped his mind. He shouldn't be worried; he reminded himself that fact as the call finally went through.

"Hey Nancy," he started to say, but was surprised as the call was cut off. A steady tone buzzed in his ear and he frowned, hanging up and trying the number again. There was no answer that time, so instead he tried her home phone. After five rings it picked up.

"Nancy, it's Con, your cell phone's dead, and you're late," he started, only to realize how idiotic it sounded. "Just wondering if you were still at home, doesn't sound like it, see you when you get here then."

He hung up, shaking his head. Why had he called? Nancy was fine, he reassured himself, so why was he so worried. Then he remembered that Frank was also not here. Sighing he picked the phone up again, pausing to remember what his cell number was before punching it in.

There was no answer, and he didn't bother trying to call his house either. He had already made an idiot out of himself once, no need to do it twice. Still he felt worse than before he had made the calls. Maybe they were here, somewhere around the station, and had just forgotten that they were supposed to pick up on a case.

Though it could be possible, it wasn't very reasonable, he decided, grabbing the top few papers to sort through them. He would wait a little longer before trying to call again, maybe then Nancy's phone would be recharged enough to get a call through.

***

It was warm…that was all he knew. Too warm for his taste. The air felt sultry, it was hard to breathe. Not only that, it hurt to breathe. Frank blinked wearily a few times, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the bright lights that hung from the ceiling.

It was then he felt it, something beside him, something that was on him. Turning to his left he frowned slightly. "Nancy," he mumbled, still blinking.

"Frank," she answered back, turning to look over her shoulder. He hadn't the faintest idea why she had her back to him.

"What's going on?" he wondered, glancing around the store. Things were slowly coming back to him, he remembered where they were, but wasn't quite sure what happened.

"We uh, we have a situation," Nancy started to explain, still watching him, but was interrupted.

"Hey look Mando, boyfriend's awake."

Frank looked towards the counter as one man jumped over and the other walked around. It all came back to him then, what had happened. He had just gotten around the corner, moving to the side as a man walked past. The second man, he saw, had a gun. He was about to shout a warning, but never got the chance. The next thing he knew, was waking up.

"Isn't that sweet?" Mando asked, "Girlie's helping the boy."

Stitch laughed, "What are we going to do with them?"

An answer never came as a sharp ringing noise filled the air. Frank glanced towards the Nancy, the sound startling him. The two robbers also were surprised, only Nancy knew what it was the second it started. But it didn't take long for the others to figure it out either.

Nancy was already pulling the phone from her back pocket, releasing her hold from Frank's wound for the first time in over thirty minutes. She hadn't even checked the caller ID as she threw the phone open, but she was unable to get a single word out.

Stitch wrestled the phone out of her hands, smashing it into the ground, as Mando dragged Nancy to her feet. She let out a cry as her arms were twisted painfully behind her back, and she was unable to get her feet under her, simply because they were bound.

"Who you trying to call slut?" Mando yelled at her, throwing her down an aisle. She landed against the metal shelves, crying out as she made contact. Her breathing hitched as she slid to the floor, but it was obvious that he wasn't done with her yet.

"You think you're so smart don't you?" he was screaming now, one hand grasped her chin, forcing her up.

"Leave her alone!" Frank shouted, trying to draw their attention away. His breathing had sped up, he was putting more pressure on his chest; he winced with each one.

But it hadn't worked, and he watched in horror as the man holding Nancy threw her back down. He could only see her feet, but he got a pretty good idea what was going on.

Nancy tried her best to cover her face by turning her shoulder, and ducking her head into her chest. It did little to stop the heavy boot that came down on her, not once or twice, but several times in a row.

She couldn't hear what he was yelling anymore, nor could she hear Frank calling for her to answer, or his own cries of pain. She lost count of how many times she was hit, and was barely aware that he had stopped. She could taste blood, could feel it running down her cheek. It was the last thing she remembered.