Going, Going, Gone (An Elijah Mikaelson Love Story)

Chapter 1: Check

My eyes dart amongst the crowd of adventuring tourist. A girl with numerous face tattoos and piercings is shoving her tongue down her supposed girlfriend's throat, while both clamber to one another like wild animals. Cute but gross, next.

An older man with a little girl perched on his shoulders dance with an equally aged lady. The little girl, not much older than five, squeals as the man picks her up and tosses her in the air, catching her and moving her onto his hip. Again, cute but I don't do families. Next.

Just across the herbal shop and the dancing square of people and music, I see the target. He's no older than 20, college maybe? Both hands hold beers, he holds them in the air while hooting and hollering with his accompanying friends, all who appear to be swaying and stumbling while clearly intoxicated. 

Hands occupied? Check. Not in the clearest of mind? Check. Has a clear outline of a wallet in his pocket? Check, check and check. I've found the lucky person of the day.

I calmly step away from the wall I've been leaning against for an hour. I hate the waiting game of pick pocketing, my shoulder gets too tense, and I get paranoid someone's going to get suspicious of someone just standing, not partying with the rest of the crowd. I stalk forward and make my way through the busy square of New Orleans, filled with tourist during the yearly Mardi Gras celebration parade. This just makes it ten times harder to keep my eyes on the target. After losing beer hands for a split moment, I catch him again, only a couple feet away from originally.

It's go time.

I push down the already low-cut shirt I have on and begin to walk with a light stumble and giggle. His eyes flicker to me for a moment and I hoot and holler to keep his attention on me. Although confused, he flashes a boyish grin and I see his eyes flash to my chest. As I get near, I fake a stumble into his arms and crash into his chest while forcing incoherent giggles out. I pull away and laugh in my hand. "Oh my goooooood, I am sooooo sorry. I though you was my BFF." I shrill while running my hands up and down his chest.

"That's alright baby. I don't mind being your best friend for the next couple hours." He gets outs while wrapping his occupied hands around my shoulders. I almost shudder as I feel beer splash onto my back. "You good girl?" He whispers, mouth close to my neck.

I will be once you get your hands off and I have your money.

"Yeah. Oh." I sigh out as my hand rubs his chest getting lower and lower to his pockets, until I feel the slight tip of his wallet on my nail. I throw my hand in the air and laugh, his eyes go up and that's when I make my move. Using the other hand to grab the wallet and slide it into my back pocket while keeping his eyes elsewhere. "You're not my BFF, sorryyyy." I giggle out and saunter away, giving a slight stumble as I begin to lose sight of him.

I round the corner to the nearby street and pull out the leather wallet from my pocket, flipping it open and sorting through my find. Condoms... Baseball tickets.... and three twenty-dollar bills.

Not bad, not amazing.

I shove the money back into my pockets and toss the wallet aside on the ground. I fix my shirt and am about ready to turn to find a new lookout location when something catches my eyes.

Okay, he screams wealthy.

There, leaning against the wall I had resided on moments ago is now a man. Clean, button-down white shirt, not necessarily button up and pristine, but casual enough for the partying streets. I see the watch on his wrist as he holds the phone to his ear and talks into it.

Businessman? Vendor? I don't really know but he doesn't resemble much of a cop from where I'm standing. Plus the watch? Easily worth 600 dollars.

This man could easily have a hundred dollars on him somewhere. I shouldn't do this. It's too soon from my last pocketing. I glance down at my watch and see it's getting to be that time. Charles will be expecting me soon. If he was here, he would tell me to exert patience and not be so stupid, but he's not. Fuck it, you'll be fine Grace.

'It's going to be a different approach' I decide as I make my way through the crowd once more. I keep my shirt upright and gather my hair into a quick ponytail. I am cute and classy, but still look hot enough for the next target to at least speak to me. I am only a couple of feet away from him when I see him finally get off the phone. About time.

I plaster on a small smile and walk towards him. Confident and composed, not stumbling and stupid like last time. There's a water bottle in my bag and I pretend to step aside and innocently gather it out and take a sip. I stand aside and keep taking small sips while keeping tabs on the man through quick glances his way. Finally, I'm ready.

The whole ten feet I walk towards him is when I begin to second guess everything. This is dumb. Charles has taught us to wait between pockets to gather our thoughts and properly prepare. Never to rush into these types of things; but it's too late to go back now or pause. I'm two feet away from this guy. I'm less than a foot away when I begin the 'stumble'. The cap is off on the water. Get his shirt wet, babble and dabs, get the wallet, apologize. Leave. That's the plan.

I am lightly tilted forward when I see his hands fly out towards me and grab me by my wrist. My head snaps up. Shit. I am screwed . 

Dark brown eyes stare into mine. They never leave or falter from mine. My heartbeat picks up as  his head tilts slightly to the side and a small smirk plays on his lips. He knows.

Is he a cop? Did he see me do this earlier? How screwed am I? Oh my god his eyes are so-

His voice snaps me out of my scared state. "I do not believe you'll find anything valuable in my pockets, nor is it ideal for you in your given position right now." He says it so calm but with so much sternness and authority. My knees go weak, I'm fucked. The water bottle, still in my hand is plucked away from me and tossed to the ground. He puts his hands back on my wrist and begins to speak but I cut him off. 

"I-I I'm sorry" I blurt out. "If I go now the-"

"IT WAS FUCKING HER" The scream pierces through the air and I don't even have to turn my head from his stare to know where it came from. But he does.

Beer Hands stalk towards us and he is pissed. By now he knows the wallet is gone and he knows it was more than likely me.

To be fair, he wasn't even going to probably use the condoms.

The man holding me doesn't loosen his grip but with a sharp push I go running. I hear beer hands yelling for me to stop but I hear a sharp oooff sound. Like maybe someone or something stopped him. I don't bother to turn around because I don't want to know who I'm up against; just Beer Hands or the man that caught me. Or both?

I just keep running until I know it's safe. I don't stop until I'm outside of the bar where my friend, Cami, is working tonight. She's probably hate doing this but she'd cover for me if a cop walk through those doors. Hell, she might even let me hide under the bar.

Plus, I need a drink.