Friday Barnes one shots

Missy and Oliver

'Missy Wainscot, I swear to God if you don't unlock this door I will bring Hell down onto you.' Ian yelled, banging on the door.

His daughter looked back at him through the glass panel in the door. Arnold was running down the hallway behind her.

'I'm sorry Dad.' She said, her voice firm but shaky. 'I can't let you get hurt.'

'Malissa!' He yelled, louder now.

Missy turned, running from the door and deeper into the warehouse.

Ian punched the door as hard as he could.

This was not what he had told her to do, she wasn't even supposed to be here. And it was his job to protect her. He was her father, it was his job to get hurt not her's.

If only stupid Interpol hadn't called at the last moment. If only he wasn't put on duty on his night off and if only Missy would listen to him just this once.

They had met up with Friday at the warehouse only 39 minutes ago and Ian hat told her to stay in the car with the lights off.

But she had worked something out, something that she hadn't told him and she had locked him out.

And now, she was running to meet with a kidnapper who probably had a gun.

Ian stepped back, holding his gun up to the glass and was about to shoot the glass but the gun was smacked out of his hand before he could pull the trigger.

'Don't,' Friday said, 'it'll make too loud of a noise and you'll only make her more likely to be seen.'

Ian collected the gun.

Why couldn't Missy be more like her brother? Why couldn't she listen?

'Hey, is Sydney ready? We might need backup sooner than I thought.' Friday said into her walkie talkie.

A staticky voice replied 'we're still a half hour away. But we're coming.'

A half hour?

Missy could be dead by then.
_______________________

Missy ran after Arnold, the duffle bag full of money slung over her shoulder.

Arnold, a handsome man with brown hair, was running down the old hallway, his steps echoing off the concrete walls.

Imogen should be here somewhere. That's what the kidnapper had said in their text.

Imogen was Arnold's girlfriend, and from what Missy had been told, she had been kidnapped.

Arnold, was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to stay outside. Outside with her.

But he had run in, so she did too. And she was kicking herself for being so impulsive.

Now they were here.

They got to a large open space that had a few delivery boxes that looked like they were supposed to have been shipped.

There were stairs against one wall, leading up to a set of double doors on the second floor and a balcony with metal railing that overlooked the warehouse.

Arnold stopped, looking around.

Missy stopped too.

Arnold did not know she was following him. That's probably why he screamed like a little girl when she tapped him on the shoulder.

'Manly as ever,' she said sarcastically, 'why are you here? You were supposed to wait by the car.'

Arnold stared at her, his eyes wide. 'You- you followed me? How old are you? Oh we're both screwed.'

'I'm 16 and yes I followed you because you were running into a kidnapping. I followed because I'm stupidly impulsive and I have a better idea of how to handle a hostage situation than you do.' She said.

This was a lie, Missy had no idea how to handle a hostage situation, but she figured lying was the least of her problems right now.

'You are of no help to me.' Arnold said, still staring at her like she was from another planet.

Missy raised an eyebrow, 'um excuse you, but I have the ransom money for you girlfriend that you forgot when you dashed in here. So without me, you'd also be a hostage. You're welcome.'

Arnold wasn't looking at her anymore, instead, he was looking over her shoulder.

Missy turned around.

A man in a black hoodie and ski mask was standing in the middle of the space with them.

'Hand over the money, and nobody gets hurt.' He said.

Missy nodded slowly, slipping the duffle bag over her shoulder, but Arnold had a different idea.

'I want to see Imogen. I want to see she's alive.'

The kidnapper looked at him, 'that's not how this works. We play by my rules.'

'Wait no actually,' Missy said, looking between Arnold and the kidnapper, 'that's not an unreasonable request.'

'Isn't it?' The man pulled something silver and narrow out of his pocket.

Missy swallowed. A gun.

She had been through training with guns, but those held paint balls. This was a very real gun. A very real gun that could do very real damage.

She wrapped the strap of the duffle bag around itself then tossed it at the man.

Then she took a step back, bumping into Arnold.

'Ok,' she said, trying to make her voice firm. But it didn't work. And why would it. She wasn't a hero, and she wasn't a spy or a detective. She was a scared stupid girl who hadn't thought this through. 'You have the money, give us Imogen.'

The kidnapped kicked the bag behind him holding the gun in line with her head. 'That's not gonna happen, little girl.'

Missy's mind spun. What did he mean 'not gonna happen?' Was there no hostage? Was this some trick, some sort of training?

'Ok.' She said, nodding to herself, 'ok, ok so you won't give us Imogen?'

The kidnapper shook his head. 'Nope.'

'Uh, ok, um, and why is that?' She asked.

'Because I don't think you deserve to have her.' He says.

Missy nodded again, ready to try her luck at bargaining with this man.

But once again, Arnold had better ideas.

He too pulled out a shiny pistol and aims it at the kidnapper.

'Oh, great, another gun.' Missy muttered, stepping away from Arnold.

'I'm not leaving without Imogen!' Arnold yelled. 'Where is she? Where-'

But he's cut off by the ringing of a gun shot.