Title: The Other Side of Morning
Fandom: Moonlight
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: T to M
Pairings: Mick/Beth, Josef/Sarah
Spoilers: through 1X10 "Sleeping Beauty"
Summery: AU after 1X10. Beth heads to the bank not knowing she was about to walk into a hostage situation that would forever change her life.
Disclaimer: all I own is a stuffed unicorn…please don't sue and take my unicorn away…/sniffle/
AN: okay so now we get into the actual story with a bit more logical sequence of events...
Chapter 1: The Usual Places
"Neither dead nor alive the hostage is suspended by an incalculable outcome. It is not his destiny that awaits him, nor his own death, but anonymous chance, which can only seem to him something absolutely arbitrary. He is in a state of radical emergency, of virtual extermination." --Jean Baudrillard.
Beth awoke from her dream with a start, skin tingling and lungs still straining for the air it couldn't find in her dream. She ran a shaky hand through her hair as she tried to reacquaint her brain with the present. It's had been fifth time in as many days that Beth had awoken gasping for breath from that dream. She couldn't remember the specifics upon awaking, the details kept slipping away, but it always left her with a sense of foreboding. Beth shook her head, resolving to put the dream from her mind and began mentally going over the list she needed to do today.
First off she needed to go to the bank and then she was supposed to meet Josh for a late lunch to have that "talk" she'd been avoiding since New York, then after that she was meeting Mick; he'd asked for her help on a case he was working. Surprisingly things were still good between them even after her stabbing of his ex-wife and leaving him high and dry in New York. That one still caused a twinge of guilt…and fear. The dreams had started after New York, and Beth was certain that the sight of Sarah lying comatose in that bed was the cause.
Sighing, Beth climbed out of bed and set about getting ready for the day. She ran a brush through her untidy hair and was startled by how haggard she looked; a tired set to her mouth and dark circles around her eyes that make-up couldn't quite conceal. The dreams were taking more of a toll on her then she cared to admit. She pushed the dreams away firmly. They were just dreams, nothing more, it wasn't anything a little Tylenol PM couldn't take care of. She grabbed her keys and headed out the door of her apartment with no inkling of what would happen in just a few short hours.
There was a surprising amount of people in the bank for a Thursday morning, Beth noted as she moved to stand in the back of the line. In front of her stood a twitchy looking man who kept fidgeting with something in his pocket. Ahead of him was a plump smiling mother with a toddler on one hip and her free hand resting on the shoulder of her older boy. Next were a young couple who bickered good-naturedly about something much to the annoyance of the older businessman in front of them. He looked appalled to even have to stand in the same line as them although he didn't seem to mind the leggy brunette in the short skirt in front of him.
As a reporter Beth was constantly observing people. She was conditioned to notice things about them that weren't always obvious to the casual observer but even she couldn't place the strange sense of déjà vu that came over her as the three men entered the bank. While there was nothing remarkable about them physically the heavy coats looked far too hot for the mild Los Angeles weather. Something was off about them and Beth felt a warning deep inside her telling her she should get out of the bank. Now.
She never got the chance.
The tallest of the three pulled out a gun and fired three shots into the ceiling in rapid succession while his companions disarmed the two security guards.
"Everyone down on the ground! Do as we say and no one gets hurt."
Beth lay flat on the ground with the others as the two finished tying up the guards. They moved to cover the floor, guns trained on the patrons, as the leader advanced on the sole teller.
"I want you to start filling up the bags with money," the leader told the terrified teller, his voice calm and controlled.
The sound chilled Beth to the bone, she knew instantly that this man would have no trouble killing if it came to that and the hard look in the eyes of the other two said the same for them. She pressed herself more closely to the floor, determined not to dray attention to herself. Unfortunately her ringing phone destroyed that ambition. Beth found two guns trained on her as the nearest robber moved closer to her.
"Take out your phone," he ordered harshly.
Beth fumbled in her pocket as she complied. She slid it across the floor to the robber trying not to feel like she had let go of her only life line; she had seen the caller ID. It was Mick. A well aimed shot had Beth covering her head as cell phone parts went skidding across the floor in every direction. Somewhere to her right the toddler began crying.
"I want all the cell phones! Now!" the one who had shot her phone barked.
There were more skittering sounds as the others handed over their phones. Beth felt the beginnings of real fear creeping up her spine.
The leader was gesturing angrily at the teller who had frozen at the sound of the last gun shot. She quickly resumed filling the canvas bags with money as tears trickled down her cheeks. There was a sound in the distance, growing louder with every second. It was the sound of sirens. Apparently the teller had pressed a silent alarm.
"The police," one of the young couple whispered, sounding hopeful.
Beth felt her heart sink. She knew from experience that the arrival of the police often only made the situation much, much worse. Trapped, the robbers would become desperate and Beth was certain that people would die.
Mick stared at the phone in his hand as the line cut directly to voicemail mid-ring. Concerned, he tried again. It went straight to voicemail. He had a bad feeling, so he tried her apartment with no success. Beth had said she was stopping by the bank before work and then would be by after her lunch with Josh at 2:00. Mick checked his watch; it was 10:30. She should be at work by now, so he dialed Buzzwire and got Maureen. He asked if she had seen Beth.
"No," Beth's boss replied, "but if you see her tell her there's a hostage situation at First National Bank downtown, and that she better get her ass down there. I already sent Steve."
Mick felt his heart plummet at the words. First National, Beth's bank, the bank she had been planning on going to before work. He was half way to his car before conscious thought caught up with him. What did he plan on doing? Barging in on the robbers? That would only get people shot. Regardless, he had to go; Beth was in trouble and he had to be there. His phone buzzed again and Mick answered it with out looking, hoping against hope it was Beth.
It was Josef.
"Not now," Mick said before his friend got half way through his greeting.
"Did I interrupt something?" Josef sounded more amused then taken aback by Mick's tone. He was far too use to Grumpy Mick.
"Beth's in trouble, Josef. I have to go." Mick said shortly.
"What did she get herself into now?" Josef asked. Really, that reporter got herself into the most absurd situations.
"She's at the bank," Mick explained then hung up. He punched down the accelerator.
The scene was flooded with cops, reporters and all those people drawn to such scenes by morbid fascination with disaster. Mick couldn't get close but he spotted Josh talking with the assembled SWAT team and the hostage negotiator. He turned to one of the beat cops who were in charge of keeping the crowd back and flashed his credentials.
"I need to speak with Josh Lindsey," Mick said firmly. "I have information that may be important."
The beat cop eyed him dubiously.
"Just tell him Mick St. John has some information for him," Mick repeated. "I'll wait right here."
The cop nodded stiffly, not liking being ordered around by a PI but obviously not wanting it on his head if the DA's office was denied information. Mick didn't mean to run roughshod over the man but now wasn't the time to soothe egos. The cop headed over to Josh with a terse order for Mick to remain where he was. Josh looked over at Mick and his face darkened. Mick was well aware that he was far from Josh's favorite person at the moment, but Josh made his way over with the grumpy beat cop hard on his heels.
"What is it Mick?" Josh half-snapped when he reached him.
"Beth's one of the hostages." Mick replied shortly.
Josh's expression changed from dislike to shock. "Are you sure?" He asked tensely.
Mick nodded as Josh motioned him inside the perimeter. "She said she was going to the bank before work. She's not at home, not answering her cell, and she never made it to work." He explained as he followed Josh over to where the hostage negotiator was standing.
Josh turned to the balding man standing by the satellite phone set up. "Beth's in there, do whatever you have to, just get them out alive," he ordered.
The negotiated looked at Josh in surprise but didn't say anything. Mick closed his eyes. He could always tell when Beth was near now, could pick her heartbeat out from all the others ever since that motel in desert. He could hear it now, racing in terror, but very much alive. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was okay, but only for now. He opened his eyes to regard Josh.
"It doesn't look like anyone has been hurt, but so far no one has answered our calls," Josh was saying. "There looks to be at least two of them."
"Three," Mick replied. He couldn't see the hostages, they were most likely lying on the ground, but four upright figures were visible to him in the dark interior. "Two covering the floor and one by the teller."
Josh gave him a strange look but didn't comment. Mick understood the gesture; whatever issues they had with each other would be for another time. Right now they had one goal: get Beth out alive. It was a goal that would ultimately fail.
AN: Okay I just picked a random name for the bank, I use Bank of America but for some reason it sounds lame to say "I robbed Bank of America!" so I went with something else. Seriously if someone came up to me and said that I might laugh…it's like robbing Wal-Mart or something…I mean come on? How lame would that be? But I digress…
Ok so review if you liked it and want more …or just if you want to tell me I'm weird for my Bank of America rant…..or whatever…