Fic: The Big Score (1/1)
Title: The Big Score
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: PG-13 for guns and crimes
Spoilers: Nope!
Summary: I don't even know. A little drabble that wouldn't get out of my head, so I'm putting it up. It's not great, but it wouldn't leave until I complied!
“I said keep your heads down!” the angry female voice shattered the quiet of the bank, and someone in the corner screamed. There was a loud thud that could only have been the screamer being kicked, and the masked woman looked in that direction. “Hey! I told you, nobody gets hurt here. She’s just scared.”
The five of them - three women and two men by their builds - had come pouring into the bank through the front door five minutes earlier, brandishing large guns. They were clad all in black, wearing cartoonish masks. They’d gone straight for the lone teller on duty, demanding she open the vault. She’d refused, saying she couldn’t open it, and the ringleader - the only one who’d said anything so far - ordered her out to sit with the customers. One of the other women had disappeared into the back and returned to give the leader a thumbs-up. Most of them followed her, emptying the vault into bags, and now they were clearly ready to leave. The ringleader, however, was scanning the crowd, and her gaze finally fell on a brunette huddled in the corner. “You,” she gestured. “Up.”
The brunette stood, shaking. The other woman handed her a roll of duct tape. “You’re coming with us. Blindfold and gag yourself.”
“Please, I have children, my tiny babies, don’t hurt me-“
“Do it!” the woman shouted. “Do it now!”
The brunette complied, breathing rapidly through her nose once she’d covered her mouth with a strip of tape. The masked woman grabbed her by her collar and pulled her toward the door. “Anyone follows me, I’ll shoot this woman, do you understand? Anyone who wants to be a hero, her death will be on your hands!” All of them vanished out the front door, the leader roughly shoving the brunette into their nondescript white van, which pealed away from the curb and into traffic.
In the back, the brunette mumbled unintelligibly behind the tape. Up front, the driver rolled his eyes as he discarded his mask. “God, can we just leave the tape on this time?”
The ringleader, her mask now discarded and her blonde hair tumbling loose around her shoulders, laughed quietly. “What do you think, Rach?” she trailed a finger across her taped mouth. “Should we just leave this on?”
Rachel moaned at the contact, and behind them Santana made noises like she was throwing up. “Can it, Santana. You and Britt are way grosser, okay?” She returned her attention to Rachel. “I’m going to take this off as gently as I can, okay?” she waited for an affirming nod before she slowly peeled the tape off and balled it up in her hand. Rachel sighed.
“Someone else gets to play the helpless victim next time. That tape hurts!”
“Aww,” Quinn sat beside her. “But you do it so well! You need to stop improving, though - when you started on about your children, I damn near laughed.”
“I have excellent comic timing,” Rachel nodded. “So how’d we do?”
“About a million,” Puck said from the driver’s seat.
“One million, two hundred thousand and twenty dollars,” Brittany corrected. Her math skills had surprised everyone when they’d started out.
“Where did the extra twenty come from?”
“I put it in myself,” Brittany nodded proudly. “You know, like a busker does, to get people to give them money?”
No one quite knew how to respond to that.
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: PG-13 for guns and crimes
Spoilers: Nope!
Summary: I don't even know. A little drabble that wouldn't get out of my head, so I'm putting it up. It's not great, but it wouldn't leave until I complied!
“I said keep your heads down!” the angry female voice shattered the quiet of the bank, and someone in the corner screamed. There was a loud thud that could only have been the screamer being kicked, and the masked woman looked in that direction. “Hey! I told you, nobody gets hurt here. She’s just scared.”
The five of them - three women and two men by their builds - had come pouring into the bank through the front door five minutes earlier, brandishing large guns. They were clad all in black, wearing cartoonish masks. They’d gone straight for the lone teller on duty, demanding she open the vault. She’d refused, saying she couldn’t open it, and the ringleader - the only one who’d said anything so far - ordered her out to sit with the customers. One of the other women had disappeared into the back and returned to give the leader a thumbs-up. Most of them followed her, emptying the vault into bags, and now they were clearly ready to leave. The ringleader, however, was scanning the crowd, and her gaze finally fell on a brunette huddled in the corner. “You,” she gestured. “Up.”
The brunette stood, shaking. The other woman handed her a roll of duct tape. “You’re coming with us. Blindfold and gag yourself.”
“Please, I have children, my tiny babies, don’t hurt me-“
“Do it!” the woman shouted. “Do it now!”
The brunette complied, breathing rapidly through her nose once she’d covered her mouth with a strip of tape. The masked woman grabbed her by her collar and pulled her toward the door. “Anyone follows me, I’ll shoot this woman, do you understand? Anyone who wants to be a hero, her death will be on your hands!” All of them vanished out the front door, the leader roughly shoving the brunette into their nondescript white van, which pealed away from the curb and into traffic.
In the back, the brunette mumbled unintelligibly behind the tape. Up front, the driver rolled his eyes as he discarded his mask. “God, can we just leave the tape on this time?”
The ringleader, her mask now discarded and her blonde hair tumbling loose around her shoulders, laughed quietly. “What do you think, Rach?” she trailed a finger across her taped mouth. “Should we just leave this on?”
Rachel moaned at the contact, and behind them Santana made noises like she was throwing up. “Can it, Santana. You and Britt are way grosser, okay?” She returned her attention to Rachel. “I’m going to take this off as gently as I can, okay?” she waited for an affirming nod before she slowly peeled the tape off and balled it up in her hand. Rachel sighed.
“Someone else gets to play the helpless victim next time. That tape hurts!”
“Aww,” Quinn sat beside her. “But you do it so well! You need to stop improving, though - when you started on about your children, I damn near laughed.”
“I have excellent comic timing,” Rachel nodded. “So how’d we do?”
“About a million,” Puck said from the driver’s seat.
“One million, two hundred thousand and twenty dollars,” Brittany corrected. Her math skills had surprised everyone when they’d started out.
“Where did the extra twenty come from?”
“I put it in myself,” Brittany nodded proudly. “You know, like a busker does, to get people to give them money?”
No one quite knew how to respond to that.