"Uh uh uh," She patronizes, her gun moving with each shake of her head.

He freezes, and all around them people are oblivious. Then Justin strolls in, the same small smile on his face and his Tommy gun resting solidly against his torso. Panic breaks loose and patrons spill from the lobby into the streets. In reality, they should be at least a little bit fearful that someone will find a police officer before they make their exit, but he's not. They're not. And really...they don't need to be. He pulls a black leather bag from his shoulder, tosses it to the man and it hits him in the face more than he catches it.

"Fill it up." He orders, gesturing with his gun to the vault to their left.

Olivia follows him while Justin turns to the rest of the bank workers, smiling casually, nodding to an elderly woman at a desk, picking up a pen a patron had dropped in shock, all the while his Tommy gun is perched on his shoulder. That is, until he sees a young worker about his age who looks ready for a fight.

"You." Justin calls, his gun zeroing in on the man in the brown blazer and cheap loafers, ignoring the ripple of screams from people too stupid to leave when they had the chance. "Go lock the front doors."

As if he just realizes there was an actual robbery taking place the man seems suddenly afraid, his hands visibly shaking as he turns the key once over and hands the metal ring over to Justin on his way back to his station. Only seconds pass before the teller emerges from the vault, his nose swollen and bleeding. Olivia follows him out, not a hair out of place, her gun still pointing at the back of his head, and the large leather bag, now filled to the brim, slung over her shoulder.

She makes her way to his side and he instantly pulls the heavy bag off of her and hoists it onto his shoulder - they may be robbing banks but Justin was raised to be a gentleman.

"What did he do to you?" Justin murmurs, shoving his gun roughly in the direction of the teller who is now trying hopelessly to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. He knows she would never hurt someone without reason.

Olivia smiles softly and holds up the butt of her gun, stained a blotchy red. "I took care of it."

But that's not enough for Justin, its not the point. He whips around to face the teller once again. "What did you do to her?!" He shouts, his finger moving to the trigger.

It's almost comical, the bottom half of his face is obscured by piles of tissue, but the man's eyes widen to the size of saucers.

"I said," Justin starts, his voice a deadly whisper, "what did you do to her?"

Olivia glances through the large windows and she can see half a dozen police officers running their way.  They're still far enough away that Justin and Olivia don't have to be concerned with being caught, but she can already hear the rumble of their feet as they run. "Baby, we don't have time for this. They're coming." The Southern tendencies in her speech becoming more apparent in her concern.

Justin keeps his eyes trained on the teller but his stance relaxes and his finger falls from the trigger. "You're lucky she had already dealt with you." He adds offhandedly.

He hands Olivia the keys to the front doors and together they stroll away as if they had just made a deposit. Their car, a baby blue Austin, is where they left it, half a block to the right. They half walk half jog their way towards it, laughing to each other as the doors swing open. Still laughing as they toss their guns and the bag of money into the back seat.

Their laughter dies however, when the car refuses to start. The engine turns over and over, but to no avail does car respond. Justin and Olivia lock eyes, wide open and wild, panic washing over them in waves.

"Give it a second." Olivia urges, glancing back towards the bank, watching as the teller she hit with the butt of her gun points the police in the right direction.

Justin turns the key, presses the clutch and the roar of the engine is like coming up for air. They peel away from the sidewalk, only moments from being apprehended and begin laughing wildly. Olivia turns in her seat, looking back at the six dumbfounded police officers before throwing her head back and laughing some more. Justin cheers and woops, smacking his hand a couple times on the steering wheel before they disappear from the cops sight all together.

----

Justin tips the bag over the bed and money flees from it like hundreds of green birds. Olivia claps and cheers as he does it, and he cheers too, tossing the bag blindly across the hotel room, his heart racing like a wild horse. His whole body is buzzing with it, the rush, the thrill, the horror when the car wouldn't start, followed by the relief when it did. And he's breathless, remembering the screech of the tires as they sped down the road, windows rolled down, the tips of his ears and nose still a little numb from the cold February air.

"It's beautiful." She says, staring down at the money spread across the bed.

"No, you are. So fucking beautiful," he says, and he's grabbing her, kissing her, hard.  So hard she stumbles back onto the bed.

Then he's on top of her, tongue curling into her mouth as she pushes his trench coat off his broad shoulders, fingers unbuttoning his shirt with ease.

"What'd he do to you?" He whispers, hissing as she cups him through his trousers.

Olivia looks up, confused at first, but understanding flickers in her eyes and she pushes up to rest on her elbows. She answers simply, her hand still rubbing at his hardening length through his pants.

"He tried to take my gun."

And then it all makes sense to Justin. Her revolver, gleaming silver with a mother of pearl grip, is her most prized possession, the only thing she's got left to remind her of her father.

He smiles feebly, seeing the pensive look in her eyes and feeling the way her hand has stopped moving. He leans down to kiss her again, because loves, loves, loves her, but his palm slips on the banknotes still covering the bed, and his nose bump hers. She giggles, so he does too, and then she kisses him.

The crisp bills crinkle under her weight as she shifts to get better access to his fly. She reaches for his belt, undoing it and his pants with no fanfare, her hand finding his erection with a slow smile as he gasps, his knees skidding on another bundle of twenties.  She strokes him firmly, and he's dizzy, dizzy with the roll of her fingers and the smell of her hair mixed with the new banknotes. Olivia pushes at his shoulders with her free hand, getting him to roll over so they're side by side on their backs. Before he really knows what happened Olivia is dress-less and her tongue is running up and down his shaft. Her hair was pinned back in a neat bun this morning, but strands have begun to fall away, grazing her face and tickling his hips. The flared ridge at the edge of the head is inviting, so she licks that too, and Justin sighs.  He settles back, one hand going to stroke her hair, weaving his fingers in the stray pieces that have fallen out. She swirls her tongue over the tip and Justin groans.

"God, just like that."

Olivia wraps a hand around his length and closes her mouth over the head, sucking lightly and tonguing that little bead of skin she knows drives him wild. His hips arch when she tongues it again, spreading his legs wider for her when she releases him with a soft pop and blows over where her mouth just was. He's panting a little and she hears him hiss when she sucks at the slit, her hand moving up and down his shaft gently.

Justin sighs a breathless, "Yeah, babe," which turns into a low groan when Olivia presses her thumb to that patch on the glands while she continues to suck and lick at his slit. His hand tightens in her hair and she watches out of the corner of her eye his fist clench and unclench on the small bit of comforter he was able to find. She relaxes her throat, opening her mouth a little wider and takes as much of his cock inside her mouth that'll fit. He makes a funny sound, high pitched and melodic, when she does this, caught off guard completely. He thrusts his hips up on instinct, and she gags a bit, but doesn't stop sucking. She does it as long as she can, listening to his moans and bitten off versions of her name, until his hands find her shoulders and he pushes her off of him.

The squeak of the bedsprings and the new view of the ceiling tell her Justin has flipped them, but Olivia really has no idea how it happened.

"Gonna fuck you, Liv" he breathes, putting a hand between her legs to make sure she's ready "Gonna fuck you right here on all this money."

She smiles, looking at him from under those thick eyelashes. She can feel him between her thighs, hot, hard, slick from her and from him, and when she wiggles against it her own slickness answers, too. "Go ahead, I was wet before we walked into that bank."

And when he slides into her, she gasps like she did when the car tore away from the bank.

She arches to meet him and they go slowly at the outset, setting a pace that's strong but lingering. His stroke feels incredible, his cock thick and solid inside her, his fingers coaxing on the outside, around and against her clit, making her shiver and rock back and forth faster, harder. But when she tries to take control he stills completely, wagging his finger in front of her eyes, a cocky grin on his face.

She clenches him inside of her, once, twice, and that's all it takes for the smirk to disappear from his face. Sheer determination and a furrowed brow replace it. He starts thrusting again, a little faster now, but still just as strong, just as deep.

Olivia wants to outlast him this time, just this once, because it's his night, tonight, she decides, and she wants to wring him of his orgasm before her own mind is shattered, but she can't. She's tightening around him and his fingers are circling, and rubbing, and teasing until she wants to beg. But she won't, she isn't going to, until he takes two of her own fingers and sucks them into his mouth. She has no idea why it feels so good, maybe because she knows what he can do with his tongue on other parts of her body. She watches like a rag doll as he pulls them out and presses them to her own clit and she comes then, crying out his name, her fingers on her clit and his cock inside of her.

Justin drives into her still, through the waves of her orgasm, deep and hard and she wraps her legs around his waist, grabbing at his ass to push him in further. She can feel another orgasm building, faster this time.

Justin tangles his hands in the remnants of her bun and tells her fiercely, "Touch yourself for me." She comes again, fiery and good.

It must set him off too, because that's when he comes, forehead pressed against her neck, gasping out her name and emptying himself into her. She holds him through the aftershocks, as his body jerks out the last tremors of his climax. He lies over her for a moment, both of them limp and panting, before he pushes up onto his elbows and smiles down at her. And she knows that grin means trouble.

He's still inside her, the freshly stolen banknotes still beneath her, when Justin asks, "Where to next?"

She knows that smile means trouble, she does. But when the grin itching to be shown finally makes its way to her lips Olivia knows her smile must mean something twice as bad.