A/N- Guess who's nearly finished all her AS Level exams? *points at self* This girl! Man, those things are like torture. But still, almost all done now, just Psychology left, and then I have a nice, seriously deserved three week break from school, so that's fun! More writing time, am I right? Huge thanks to tangle-of-ivy, kadee son 12345 and Guest for reviewing!

Chapter Four- Good Cop, Bad Cop

"Urgh, no! You're doing it wrong!" I whined. "The point of playing Slapsies is to not let me hit you! When you see me about to slap, move your hands!"

"Is there any point to this game?" Jack asked wearily, wincing when my palm connected with his hand after failing to avoid me again. "I don't think I like this."

"If you played it properly then it wouldn't be causing you so much pain, would it?" I retorted, pulling my hands back from Jack's slap. "Dude. You suck. I mean, no offence, but you well and truly suck at this game."

"I'm tired," he protested.

"I'm pretty sure we're all tired!" called Merritt from his position sprawled out on the sofa, chilling with a book in his pyjamas. "It woulda have been easier for us all to sleep if you two hadn't been yelling to each other through the wall all night!"

"Hey, when I get excited, I can't sleep!" I objected. "I have the mindset of a small child when I get all hyped up! Forgive me! And we were not 'yelling!' We were just chatting!" Though to be fair, I had irritated myself last night. Or at least, the past-me had certainly irritated the present-me. It was now about half ten in the morning, and I was so tired that I wasn't actually dressed either. Instead, I was mooching around our suite in the Aria Hotel in my red sweatpants-and-tank-top pyjamas from Victoria's Secret. I barely had a scrap of makeup on- just some eyeliner and concealer- and my hair was scraped back into a ponytail.

"Don't you think it's time to get over the pretty lights and the magic?" Danny suggested scathingly. "You're twenty-one, not thirteen."

"'You're twenty-one, not thirteen'," I mimicked childishly. "Yeah, and you're twenty-eight, so quit acting like my mum!" I stood up and stretched, my tank top riding up a little and exposing the stars along my hipbone.

I couldn't help but notice Jack blush a little, and when I looked at him properly he quickly averted his eyes away. Hm, now was it me or did Jack just steal a bit of a stare? Probably not. It was me and my wishful thinking, more than likely. "I'm going to help Henley and pack my stuff. Catch you guys on the flipside. Lates." I turned and flitted up the stairs, heading into my room first.

I grabbed all my clothes and my red-and-white polka dot trolley case and dragged them all into Henley's room, where she herself was surrounded by clothes, only a few of which were actually folded into her (more generic) black case.

"Sometimes I think we need to listen to the boys more often," I said, dumping my case on Henley's bed. "They had all their crap packed last night when we got back."

"We're girls, we don't need to listen," Henley replied. "And besides, we have more clothes, so it takes more time." She folded up a black shirt and placed it gently in her case, flicking her red hair over her shoulder when she straightened up. Urgh, Henley always managed to look so effortlessly pretty. Here she was, having barely been awake three hours, and she looked knockout-stunning in her black cigarette trousers, simple black top and heels. It almost physically hurt to look at her.

In contrast, I looked like I'd just rolled out of a drug den after a three-day bender. Seriously, if we hadn't been such good friend I would have killed her and cut her face off to wear as my own.

"I only brought like half my wardrobe!" I said, beginning to fold up various pairs of jeans and t-shirts. "I don't have that many clothes!"

"Hunter," she began delicately, holding up a scrap of sparkly red material. "You bought a sarong."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know if we'd have time to go chill out by the pool!" I said defensively, snatching the offending item from her hand and stuffing it into my case.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" said Henley suddenly.

"I'm pretty sure you just did. Oh! Aay! Self-five!" I laughed, clapping my hands together once above my head. "No, but in all seriousness, of course you can. Ask away."

"What exactly is going on between you and Jack?"

Woah woah woah WOAH. Of all the questions Henley could have asked me, I certainly was not expect it to be that! My heart rate started going crazy, and I was trying and failing to keep a blush down. So I feigned casualness. "Why- why do you ask?"

"Oh, come on, Hunter," Henley smiled. "I've seen the way you look at him. I think you really like him."

"Oh yeah, he's my total bae," I said sarcastically. "Be serious, Henley."

"I am! Come on, you can tell me!" she said. "Girl-to-girl!"

"I am telling you!" I insisted. "There is nothing going on between Jack and me! He is my best friend! Hell, he's practically my brother!"

"Feelings change!" Henley replied. "I'd totally understand it if you do like him. He's cute."

"On the look out for a toy-boy, are we, Henley?" I teased.

"I'm only twenty-seven, Hunter, I don't think it counts," she giggled. "And besides, I really do not think of Jack like that. When I say cute, I mean in the teddy-bear sense."

"Well…so do I!"

"I think you're lying," Henley said in a sing-song voice.

"Believe what you want," I replied, imitating her tone.

"Okay, I'm not going to push it anymore," she said. "You'll tell me when you're ready. I can wait."

"Well, you are gonna be waiting a seriously long time." I really hoped anyway, as I had no intention of anyone, especially not Jack, finding out about this little crush any time soon. If ever, that is.

"Aw, you could have a magic themed wedding!" Henley suggested, a wicked glint in her eye. "You could have sky dancers, fire-eaters and the bridesmaids could wear card-print dresses! And we could do a show!"

"Okay, now I know you're just taking the piss," I snorted. "When I get married, it will be a seriously classy, white-tie-and-diamonds affair, thank you very much!"

"I'm not sure that's Jack's style," she shot back. "He's more simple."

"Shut up!" I shouted, trying to sound serious, but it just came out as a strangled laugh. "I. Do. Not. Love. Jack!" My voice sounded so forcedly casual with that last part that it sounded like I was reading from the phonebook.

"Yes, and I believe you," she assured me, but from her tone I could tell that she completely did not believe me. I couldn't blame her; I wouldn't and didn't believe me.

"Well, with the psychoanalogy done," I said cheerfully, placing my final pieces of clothing in my case, flopping the lid shut and smartly zipping it up. "I'm gonna dump my shit with the boys' shit and make myself a refreshing fruit smoothie."

"Shouldn't you get dressed?" Henley suggested. "We'll need to go soon."

I waved my arm in a 'pfft' gesture, dumping my case on the floor and pulling up the handle. "There's plenty of time for that. It's smoothie time."

"Okay, well, I'll be down in a few minutes," she said. "Can you try to get Merritt to get dressed, at least?"

"I can certainly attempt. Then again, it might be a better idea if you did. He seems very taken with you." I winked at her and ducked out the door as a pair of tailored shorts came flying at my face.

"It's goin' down! I'm yellin' timbeeeer!" I sang loudly, throwing my case over the side of the stairs. It hit the wooden floorboards with a loud thud that caused Jack to jump out of his snooze, Merritt to pull his eyes away from his book and Danny to scowl at me. No change on that last one, then.

Feeling quite wired up, I decided against taking the traditional route down the stairs. Instead, I hoisted myself up on the stair railing, balanced by putting my weight on my forearms before I managed to draw my legs up and stand, ballerina-style, on the rail.

"Heads up, guys!" I called, before I sprung up and flipped my way down to the lower floor, actually managing to land on my feet lightly. I wasn't just doing this totally randomly; I had to practice and keep myself limber so I didn't seize up in a performance.

"Et voilà," I said smugly, doing a bow. "Just throw roses at me, gentlemen. I know I'm fabulous."

"Roses? More like rocks," remarked Danny. Jesus, he really did not like me. But hey, at least the feeling was mutual.

"Aw, you want to throw diamonds at me?" I said sweetly, placing my hand over my heart. "Danny, I'm flattered. And since I'm so flattered, do any of you guys want a smoothie since I'm gonna make one?"

"Pass," Merritt replied, his head buried back in his book.

"I'm good," added Danny, turning back to look out the window in what I'm sure he imagined was a thoughtful manner, playing with his card deck. And no, that is not an innuendo.

"Okay, suit yourselves, but when you're both dying of shingles don't come crying to me," I told them, opening the fridge in the mini kitchen the other end of the room and pulling out strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and Greek yogurt. "What about you, Jacky boy? Can I tempt you with some Vitamin…whatever?"

"If it can wake me up, then sure, I'm game," he said, drawing his legs up and crossing them on the table.

"You lazy shit," I teased.

The door suddenly burst open so abruptly that I jumped and screamed, my arms reflexively flying up so that the strawberries in the punnet I had just picked up came raining down around me, bouncing off my head and shoulders. The open doorway revealed a good dozen people, all dressed very sharply in black. The man heading the group was pointing a pistol into the room. "FBI!" he shouted, advancing into the suite. "Hands where I can see them! Let's go, get 'em up, come on!"

"Uno minuto," Merritt said idly, holding up a finger. Meanwhile, Danny, Jack and I had all half-heartedly raised our arms in the air, Jack taking about thirty seconds to do so. My God, had he really not had that much sleep?

"Get them up! Put the book down!" the guy who was clearly the head agent ordered, and Merritt flopped the book down on to his chest, half raising his arms up from the elbows.

"Okay, you got me," Merritt smirked.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!" the agent suddenly shouted again, pointing his gun up the stairs where Henley was then coming down, putting on a red blazer.

"Oh my!" she gasped, doing so. "Do one of you guys mind giving us a hand with our bags?"

Shocked didn't even begin to cover the expressions every single member of the FBI in the room was wearing. Original Agent Guy composed himself first, gesturing at five members of his little squad to disperse around the suite and collect our belongings. However, he then sent another three agents over to Danny, Jack and Henley, getting the agents to handcuff them all.

"Mr McKinney, Miss Blackwell, if you'd like to get dressed please." Neither of us moved. "Now, if you wouldn't mind."

"Well, never let it be said I don't do anything to help out our boys in blue," said Merritt, heading up the stairs to his room. I still didn't move, folding my arms defiantly instead.

"Miss Blackwell, if you would be so kind," Original Agent Guy said tightly, gesturing after Merritt.

"No."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, no. I don't want to get dressed. I'm perfectly comfortable in my pyjamas, thanks."

"Miss Blackwell, are you aware where you'll be going?"

"Yup. Doesn't make a difference. I don't get dressed before three o'clock on my days off. It's my rule. So suck it, Mr FBI Man. I'm not moving."

"Very well then. We'll do it your way." And for the third time, he motioned to yet another agent to force my arms behind my back and slap a pair of cold metal handcuffs around my wrists.

"Urgh. I'm sorry, but you are so not good-looking enough to let you handcuff me."

Okay, so now I'm beginning to wish I'd gotten dressed, I thought fifteen minutes later, as we were led through the lobby of the Aria by every single one of the agents; a lobby which was packed near to the brim with people. You had Henley, Jack, Danny and Merritt all dressed classily and understatedly in their typical black attire, and then you had me in my pyjamas, cardigan, Ugg boots and scraped-back ponytail.

"Awesome show, dudes!" someone in the crowd shouted, and everyone started to cheer and whoop, so we smiled back. After all, it would have been rude to ignore the fans…even if we were in the process of getting arrested.

Once outside, we were all bundled into the back of two cop cars: Danny, Henley and Merritt in one (because that wasn't going to be an awkward journey at all) and Jack and I in the other one. I'm sure under any other circumstances, being arrested in Vegas meant you'd gotten drunk and molested a stripper if you were male, or gotten drunk and kicked your now ex-best friend's teeth in if you were female.

But no. I was getting arrested because I robbed a bank with magic. Supposedly. Not that these wank-stains had any proof of that, mind. So basically, this was just a routine arrest.

"This is such a waste of my time," I moaned, kicking at the passenger seat in front of me and earning me a scowl from the agent in said seat. "I have better things to be doing with my life!" Jack cleared his throat significantly. "Oh, what? All you want to do is have another couple of hours of sleep! I need to practice! I'm still convinced I'm unbalanced on the…" I noticed the two agents eavesdropping in the front seat. "You know what, never mind. Besides, you can sleep on the way there!"

"I think it would be easier if you weren't complaining so much," he retorted.

"I am not complaining!" I gasped, whacking him on the arm. "I call it…irritated conversing."

"Tomato, tomarto."

"God, sometimes I just wanna punch you in the throat."

"You don't mean that. You love me." Jack grinned that cocky, lopsided grin at me, and I internally turned to goo.

"No, you're right, I do love you," I said, and I undid my belt so I could lie down across the seats, my feet up against the window and my head in Jack's lap. "My brother from another mother." Crap. It took a second to work out that I had just friendzoned the guy I liked. Seriously, how had I even managed to do that. Most girls did it without realising, but no; I had to have a conscience and was able to notice my friendzoning ability. For God's sake.

I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the journey to the Vegas FBI division HQ. I think Jack was grateful, as he leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, and I'm pretty sure he had dozed off after a couple of minutes. I closed my eyes too, my hands crossed over my stomach. The rhythmic rocking of the police car as it cruised down the roads was very nearly sending me to sleep as well, but I fought to stay awake; when I slept, I tended to snuggle around and, well…my head was on an awkward part of Jack's body to do so.

But not too long later (well, it didn't seem like long. Crap nuggets, maybe I had fallen asleep) the car came to a pretty sudden stop, and I was almost flung out of my seat due to my lack of seatbelt. I sat up quickly as Jack mumbled something incoherently and stretched, his eyes opening. I slapped my cheeks a couple of times to wake me up, sighing out a yawn.

Jack's door opened, and the agent who had been in the passenger seat reached in and grabbed Jack's upper arm, manhandling him out the car whilst I was dragged out the other door by the other agent. "Come on, lovebirds, time to move," my agent said.

"He's not my boyfriend," I muttered, wanting to converse with the agent as little as possible. No matter how much I wish he was.

"Let me out!" I wailed melodramatically, throwing my head back and staring at the ceiling of my bleak interrogation cell. "I'm innocent! Innocent, I tells ya!" No one came in still. I knew we all had to be interviewed about this, and knowing my luck, I was going to be the last. I'd already been in here about two goddamn hours, how long did it take?!

"Oh my God, this is such bullshit," I muttered to myself, thumping my head down face first on the cold metal table in front of me. I hadn't even seen Merritt, Danny or Henley when Jack and I were forcibly hauled into this place. The agents had dumped Jack in the first cell we came too, then I was lead to one a few cells down. They'd taken my phone and my iPod out of my cardigan pockets as soon as they sat me down and cuffed me to the table, so I couldn't even entertain myself with a few games of Flappy Bird.

Now, I had a choice; sit here in silence and wait for whoever was going to be in charge of this investigation to come to me, or be as annoying as I could possibly be so that the head agent got irritated and came to me anyway, but quicker. Well, it was going to have to be that last one. I figured I might as well have some fun with it.

I cleared my throat and started singing We're All In This Together from High School Musical. "WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER! ONCE WE KNOW, THAT WE ARE, WE'RE ALL STARS AND WE SEE THAT. WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER, AND IT SHOWS, WHEN WE STAND, HAND IN HAND, MAKE OUR DREAMS COME TRUE!" Oh my God, seriously!? Still nobody?! I was about as tone-deaf as they came! How could no one be finding this annoying!? Time to kick it up a notch.

"WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER! WHEN WE REACH, WE CAN FLY, KNOW INSIDE, WE CAN MAKE IT! WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER! ONCE WE CAN SEE, THERE'S A CHANCE, THAT WE HAVE AND WE TAKE IT! WILDCATS, EVERYWHERE! WAVE YOUR HANDS UP IN-"

The metal door on my right finally screeched open, and two people walked in: a dark-haired man who looked to be about thirty-eight, thirty-nine, and a blonde woman who seemed in her early- to mid-thirties. "Alright, alright! That's enough!" ordered the man, glaring at me.

I shut up instantly. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Miss Blackwell, I am Alma Dray and this is Agent Dylan Rhodes," introduced the woman, who had a thick French accent. Hm, so they'd got Interpol down on this as well. Interesting.

"Um, hi?" I said uncertainly. "Is that how I should respond to that? I'm kinda new to the whole 'getting arrested' thing."

"Hi will suffice," said Alma as she and Agent Rhodes sat in the two chairs across from me.

"Well, hi then," I said brightly, determined not to show any form of weakness. "Now, is it okay if I just raise a little issue I'm having?"

"Oh God, no, she's just like the last one," groaned Rhodes, putting his head in his hands.

"Hmm. I get the feeling that you just came from interviewing Danny."

"What issue do you have, Miss Blackwell?" asked Alma gently.

"Just call me Hunter, please. 'Miss Blackwell' makes me sound like a forty-year-old teacher who never got married," I said, pulling a face. "And basically, um, I don't really feel comfortable sitting on the same chair that probably seated a murderer less than twelve hours ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Rhodes said derisively. "Would you like me to send someone out to get you a nice new chair from Home Depot? Would you like me to do that for you?"

"Is that an option?"

"Spare me the crap, little girl," Rhodes instructed, sounding one hundred percent done with my shit. "Now, let's take a look at your file."

"I have a file? That's fun."

"Now, it says here that you moved from London to New York three years ago when you were eighteen. Is that right?"

"If it's in the file, it must be. Those things are pretty official." I grinned snarkily at him.

"So why'd you leave? Your mom and dad wanted you to go to college over here, what? London's a nice place, a lot safer than New York, I'll bet."

I removed my cardigan and turned around, pulling my tank top to the side to expose a long-healed scar that spread three inches across my shoulder blade. "Tell that to the twats who decided to mug me when I was sixteen because they liked my necklace, then thought it was a good idea to knife me across the back when I didn't give it up." I turned back around, shrugging my cardigan back on. "I moved over here because my parents wouldn't support me in what I wanted to do with my life. They hated the idea of me being a trapeze artist or illusionist or anything that didn't have an actual guaranteed career for me." I started to get a bit choked up, and I could feel tears in my eyes. "Sorry, that's a bit of a touchy area, can we please move on?"

"You wanna know what's a touchy area?" Rhodes asked rhetorically. "When five so-called magicians steal over three million Euros from a Parisian bank whilst they were still in Vegas and don't say how they did it."

"A good magician never reveals her secrets," I said, now thoroughly pissed off at this guy for being so dismissive of what was genuinely a hard part of my life to talk about. "I'm sure you've heard that before."

"So it was you who worked it all out, then? You're the little mastermind behind this whole thing?"

I actually laughed out loud at that. "Do I really look that smart to you?" Rhodes did not look amused, but I did notice Alma smirk. "Like I could actually come up with anything like that. I'm just one of the amusing little sidekicks."

"How. Did. You. Do. It?" Rhodes demanded through gritted teeth.

I leaned across the table and darted my eyes left and right like I was checking that no one was listening. Rhodes leaned in closer too. "Magic," I whispered mystically, then burst out laughing again as I took in the furious expression on Rhodes' rapidly-turning-pink face.

"You stupid bi-" Rhodes began heatedly.

"Look, this is all a complete waste of time," I interrupted. "I'm not gonna tell you shit, and I seriously doubt that anyone else is so you may as well let us go. Your attempts have been futile, I'm afraid, Agent Rhodes. Soz, mate." Nothing like a bit of Cockney English slang to really rile someone up.

"Oh yeah, and what if I decide not to let you go?" Rhodes challenged.

"Then I'll make my own way out," I replied simply, and before Rhodes or Alma even had time to react, I pulled on the chains joined to my handcuffs and got them free. I threw the chains up to the ceiling where they magically attached themselves to one of the ceiling panels. My wrists slipped out of the cuffs easily and I jumped from my chair, slotting my feet into the cuffs and climbing up the chains until my head was pressed up against the ceiling.

It wasn't exactly high up, only about nine feet, but I was able to look down on Rhodes and Alma, so I grinned haughtily at them. "See what I mean? There's a saying here in the magic world; always expect the unexpected. So let. Us. Go."

We were indeed let out not too long after that. According to my phone and iPod that I had just been handed back, it was now coming up for three in the afternoon. We'd been in that place for nearly four bloody hours. What even was this!?

We were led out of the HQ in a line; Henley, Danny, Merritt, Jack and me bringing up the rear.

"Oh my God, are you seriously still tired?" I said disbelievingly to Jack, who had just yawned widely and obviously.

"Nah, just woke up," he replied.

"Are you kidding me? You slept throughout that entire rigmarole?"

"Not all of it," he answered, grinning. "Just most."

"I could kill you sometimes, Jack Wilder, I really could," I told him as we were ushered into the back of a white blacked out BMW together, Merritt, Danny and Henley again taking the other car disposed to us.

"So where are we going now?" he asked.

"The airport, don't you remember?" I replied, snuggling back in the leather seat and opening the window a bit. "We have a private jet to catch."

A/N- So we've discovered some more about Hunter's past, and it looks like Jack might have a little bit of a crush on our resident Englishwoman as well. Where's it going from here, I wonder? ;) Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Drop me a review, I always love to here from you all! They make me know it's worth carrying on my writing! Mwah! Xx Gee xX

References:
'Self-five' is obviously from How I Met Your Mother. If you didn't know that then…just…I'm sorry, I need a moment to pray for you and your bleak, HIMYMless soul.

PS- Usual reminder that my Polyvore collection link is on my profile! :)