Laurel couldn't remember a time where she had felt more helpless. There she was standing her ground with her gun in her hand and she couldn't take the shot. The guy was being too careful to keep the hostage between them at all times, careful to never give her an opening to line up a shot and take it. It was too messy, there were too many opportunities for something to go wrong and it would be the civilian on the ground instead of the criminal. Laurel would not let that happen. She could not let that happen. She shifted her feet uneasily, gritting her teeth as she glared spitefully at the thief as he and the hostage bent down so he could grab the jeweled necklace he had stashed there the last time. Then the two of them were up and edging for the exit. Laurel followed them, her gun still steadily pointed at them as she frantically looked for the clear shot that was never coming.

"You think you'll get away?" she asked, her voice hoarse and suppressing anger. "Even if you make it out that door you'll never make it outside. And if you do anything to your hostage you won't even make it out to the hall. Is the necklace really worth that much to you?" Laurel didn't think she'd be able to change his mind, but maybe she'd distract him enough that he'd give her an opening.

A giggle distracted her and her eyes flickered from the thief to the hostage. He was panicking understandably. He was high class, Laurel could tell just by looking at him, and she was willing to bet all of the paychecks for the next year that he had never been in a situation where his life was on the line before. "Hey," she said, talking to the blond man now, Her voice still rang with authority but it was softer, more calming. "It's gonna be alright. You're gonna be fine." She hoped she was telling the truth. The thief was nearly upon the door now and she braced herself. When he lunged for it it would be her only chance, her only possibility of an opening...

Then Special Agent Eric Morrison appeared in the doorway and the thief's only escape route. The man roared in anger as he was blocked off and his gun swung away from the hostage's head to point at Eric. And for the first time since she'd entered the room Laurel had her shot. She didn't hesitate. Her finger pulled the trigger.

Just as the hostage lunged away from his captor and into her bullet's path.

Laurel felt as though she was watching it happen in slow motion. Her heart nearly stopped, her mouth fell open in horror, and the bullet clipped the man's head, grazing the side of it. He collapsed to the floor and the next instant she heard another gunshot and saw the figure of the thief fall to the floor as well, crying out about the bullet Eric had put in his shoulder. Laurel didn't give a shit about him though.

She was on her knees next to the wounded hostage before she realized she had moved across the room. The wound in his head was bad, it was leaking all over the carpet and matting his blond hair, and she ripped the scarf from around her neck (her favorite scarf she would later remember) to held it against the graze. Dimly she could hear panic from downstairs, the fancy party guests who had heard the gunshots, but she didn't care about it. "Ralph, we've got a civilian down," she half yelled, unable to fully retain her composure, "Repeat we've got a civilian down! We need an ambulance now!" She reach for his neck, searching for a pulse and found one, but it was weak. "Hey, stay with me." It was a bit of a fruitless effort. He was completely unconscious.

When the ambulance arrived Laurel had angrily rejected the shock blanket they had offered her and insisted she ride with the man to the hospital. They weren't able to argue with her and so she had climbed into the back and sat beside the man on the stretcher. At the hospital she was ushered to a waiting area where she sat for what seemed like hours, but maybe it hadn't actually been that long. She only looked up when a cup of coffee was handed to her and Eric slipped into the chair beside her. It was silent for a few moments before she spoke.

"I've fired a gun before. Started when I was a kid with my dad firing a BB gun at empty soup cans. I've even shot people before, but they were criminals. They weren't...I've never...they were never civilians." She glanced over at him. "How is he?"

Eric looked as though he was considering the best words to use before finally coming out and saying it. "The doctors don't know." Laurel turned away and took a sip of horrible hospital coffee. "It'll...be okay, Laurel." He didn't sound all that certain.