This job was supposed to be easy dammit. Get in, get the money, get out. So how’d he end up hanging off of the roof top of a 13 story building you might ask? That’s a good fucking question that he didn’t know the answer to. All he knew was he was going to kill his boss, that son of a bitch. He grunted, struggling to pull himself back up over the edge but the duffle bag he had slung across his shoulder was weighing him down. Well fuck. He knew this life would kill him one day but he’d always assumed it would be in the heat of a gun fight or getting jumped in an alley, not falling off a building because he got distracted by the cop chasing him. Which, where was he- oh. The officer suddenly appeared looking down at him with a raised eyebrow before bending down and extending a hand.

“Take my hand.”

“What? No!” The officer rolled his eyes.

“Look dude, I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m literally trying to save your life. Unless you want to plummet to your death?” The officer shrugged and he sighed grabbing the outstretched hand. It took both of them a significant amount of effort to get him back onto the roof and they both lay panting on the concrete for a moment. After he had collected himself enough he stood back up and hoisted his bag back up onto his shoulder, making his way to the door off the roof. He paused hand on the door handle and smiled.

“Thanks for the save.” His grin sharpened as he flashed his hand at the cop only just getting to his feet. “And for the record, you already asked me to marry you.”