Cindy sat behind the desk at the small book store she worked at. Her short hair was covered up with a grey beanie, she wore a grey tank top and a red flannel over it, ripped jeans over her legs, and simple tennis shoes. This was what she normally wore, she found it to be comfy. Her eyes looked up at the bell ringing, a guy stepped into the store, took a single glance at her, and then went to the back rows of books. '<span style="font-style: italic">He's nice looking...</span>' Striker purred in Cindy's mind.<br/>The guy was tall with broad shoulders and a tan, he showed off multiple tattoos and piercings, his hair surprisingly was not dyed a unnatural color but instead hung past his ears in blond layers. '<span style="font-style: italic">For you maybe, but he's not my type.</span>' Cindy thought. Her own type would have been someone in a uniform, your maybe suit and tie, someone who has a good job.<br/>The guy soon came up and purchased a book, and without a second glance he left. Striker sighed lightly inside, while Cindy was relieved she hadn't done anything embarrassing. Most days went like this.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>It was later that night that Striker took control when she heard the police scanner buzz to like, "We got a 10-31," that was static for a moment before if buzzed to life again, "Now a 10-32." Striker grinned knowing the codes by heart now, running to the closet and quickly dressing into her outfit. She and Cindy had picked it together, '<span style="font-style: italic">Oh, Cindy-Lou-Who (A nick-name given to Cindy from Striker) wake up, we have a crime in progress, a guy with a gun!</span><br/>Striker could mentally feel Cindy stir away as she sneaked out the window and began to travel in the directions of sirens.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">Be careful, this is my body too you know.</span><br/>Striker rolled her eyes as she arrived to the scene, the cop car was slowly patrolling the streets looking for the guy. She caught sight of the guy running down an ally way, and in the blink of an eye she took off after the guy. She giggled at the fun of the chase, and soon caught up with the guy who had taken a wrong turn into a dead end.<br/>Once he caught sight of them he aimed, "I'll shoot!"<br/>Striker let out what seemed like a growl, "Do it baby, show us how good your aim is."<br/>The guy pulled the trigger, just barely missing her. It caught her off guard, she didn't think he would actually do it, but she didn't let her shock show. Instead she pulled out her tazer, "To bad you missed us, hope you like the big house." She shot and watched as the guy went down like a bag of rocks. She stalked forward, the guy was still awake just stunned, and if she was to move him with out him being able to hurt her he needed to be asleep. She took the butt of her tazer and hit him in the head, the guys eyes rolled back and she began to tug him to the mouth of the ally. Once getting him there she darted off as the cop car strolled back around, spotting the knocked out guy.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">You almost got us killed, striker.</span>Cindy stated<br/><span style="font-style: italic">But are we dead? No, and I got the guy so no biggie.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No biggie? No Biggie!? He could have shot us! We was nearly shot!</span>Cindy screamed mentally.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">Ok, so I was a little reckless, but hey, maybe we can find a bullet proof vest or something. Maybe Dads is somewhere in our house, mom might know.</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Maybe...</span>Cindy had calmed down, to tired to argue with Striker anymore.<br/>Striker was heading straight home, hoping her mother had not woken to find her gone.