"Hello?" I said in my sweetest voice possible, when I was no more than five feet away.

"Hhiuw!" the guy made a whimpering noise as he waves the detonator in my direction.

"No, no, no, no, no" I said soothingly, "I won't hurt you," I said calmly, I made sure not to sound too urgent, and not to raise my voice in anyway. "I just wanna talk."

He made another whimpering sound, I see his eyes look down at my belt, and they grow wider, his breathing became more harsh as I could see the puff of air in the late night chill and the glow of the Bank behind him.

"Hey, hey calm down...." I reach for my belt ever so slowly, I let my fingers linger over my gun for a moment, then I easily slide it out. He flinches, but otherwise didn't move. I bent down to the ground and laid the gun flat down on the asphalt. "...see? We cool." He still looked at my belt.

I sighed, "Alright fine," I brought out my knife at my back, dropped it down unceremoniously with a clank and kicked it behind me. "See? Nothing else on me," I pat the belt for emphasis.

Grenade in my pocket.

Shit!

I thought I left that at home! I always do! I cringe internally. But it didn't matter, all I had to do was make sure he didn't see it or else all these people strapped with bombs to their chest can just kiss the planet earth good bye.

I straighten back up, flick my hair out of my eyes, and give him my most winning smile.

I could see the stiffness of his shoulders subside, not much, but just a bit. I took that as a sign to advance, giving each of my steps two second intervals, not too rushy but also not so suspicious.

Out of the five hostages 2 were girls and 3 were guys, I'd manage to reach the last guy/hostage on the line. At this close range I got a better look of the guy, he was really really handsome, emphasis on the word was.

He looked like he'd once been a hot-bad-boy-jock-playboy, his skin looked to be hanging off his skin-severe and intense weight loss, I thought sadly. I was once close to looking like that myself, and I knew it came only from complete starvation.

"Hey...wassap?" I ask lightly.

He tilts his head and looks at me like a confused dog, well, seeing as his eyes were still big and round he actually could pass off for a dog...a poodle maybe? Chiwawa tops.

My God, those eyes are killer. I'm no poet, heck, I'm not even that good with words, but his eyes look like someone took a knife and dug out his tortured wrenched soul. I know this might sound strange, but I felt this urge to kiss me.

Don't give me that look, I like screwed up guys.

"D-d-diamonds." I hear the wimper.

My head tilts to one side, now I'm the dog. "Excuse me?" I walk lazily over to him.

He freaks and lifts his palm to slam down on the detonator button.

"WHOOW!" I jump back 7 feet, "Whow, sorry."

The hear the grumble of the police officers behind me, not good.

I turn around and flick my hands at them, some moved back as I indicated but others stubbornly stayed put till Sally barked at them through her blow horn.

"Let's not do something we'll regret here buddy," I say to the guy.

He lowers the detonator and gives me that dog look again, I bet that must've been his signature smolder look cause I can totally see the ladies falling for it if it were done with a finer face.

"Your that...celebrity," he said ruggedly, the depth of his voice shocked me infinitely. "Aren't you?"

Oh sure, he doesn't know me for my superhero acts put for the fact that I was portrayed as some sort of celebrity.

"Yea, that's me"

"Gloria?"

"No!" I say abit too sharply. "It's Glo"

"Isn't that the same thing?" he said.

"Not from my perspective" I mumbled the reply.

"Why are you here anyway?" he looked scared, yet somewhat confident in what he was doing. "Why is a celebrity at a bank heist?"

"Well someone's found his voice" I smile.

He didn't return it.

"What are you doing here?" he says darkly. That's not good, it means his finally getting his bearings and his starting to think clearly.

"I'm here to talk" I say cheerfully.

He raised his eyebrows at me, "Isn't that what a SWAT team is for?"

"Well our city isn't big enough for a SWAT team" I gently sway myself over to him as I talked. "But we're working on it"

"We?" he looked at me like I was mad. "You're just a nosy celebrity that likes to do the police's work for them, that's what Carmella says."

My eyes twitched a bit, "And who is this 'Camella' if I may ask?" I say with as much disgust.

"CARMELLA!" the hysteria was back in his voice, "her names Carmella" he finished shakily.

Well, you'd have to be brain dead idiot not to understand who his main problem was. I do alittle trick where I piece together bits of what I know and guess the rest forming a story for the reason of the crime. 60% of the time it works....the other 80% doesn't.

I try to reach out to the guy, first things first I need to know his name.

"Well you know who I am" I smiled. "Mind telling me yours?"

He looked up at me with those broken nearly soulless eyes..."Tom" he cleared his voice to get rid of the hoarseness. "My name is Tom."

"Well that's a name you don't hear as often anymore" I joked.

"So is Gloria" he replies cockily. Okay, I like this guy.

"It's Glo" I say flatly.

Tick tick tick tick......

"What was that?" I asked a bit alarmed. I just then realized that the ticking sound had been in the background all along.

"Just the timer" Tom replied nonchalantly.

"What!?"

The hostages mumbled against their gags and fought against the bonds.

"The timer for the bomb" Tom says again, crouching down infront of a female hostage with red hair whom was currently trying to wiggle away from Tom. He pulled back her shoulder, I saw the bulging package on her chest and the upper part of her belly. There was a little timer looking device with red digits on.

          10:45....

Was that minutes or hours!?

10:44.....10:43......10:42....

Well that answers my questions.

"Ah...." I look up at Tom. "Can you turn it off please?"

"NOT UNTIL I GET MY DIAMOND!" he shrieks out of nowhere.

I jump back, the hostages stop flailing.

"I don't get you, why diamonds? Why a bank?"

"Because she wants diamonds!" he stresses, as if that'll make me understand.

"Carmella?" I ask, "Carmella wants diamonds?"

"That's why she left" he sounded so broken.

"Carmella broke up with you because you couldn't give her diamonds?" I say sadly.

"She left" he says again. He wasn't really looking at me, he wasn't looking at anyone...he was just staring into space.

"Did Carmella leave you because you couldn't afford to buy her diamonds? Is that why you're doing this-"

"She wanted d-diamonds!" he says glitchy, like he was a malfunctioning computer. "The ring didn't have diamonds"

"Okay-"

"They need to give me!" Tom pointed at the hostages. "They wouldn't give me!"

His fingers looked so bony I was afraid his finger would fall off. "So my friends are helping me get it."

"The diamonds?...wait, what friends?"

One hostage gives an overdramatic sigh and looks up at the sky for deliverance.

"Diamond." Tom corrected. "I just need one, one for my engagement ring to give my precious Carmella" he said her name with so much love you could almost overlook the crazy...almost.

"Yea, yea, who're these friends you say?" I ask.

"They said they'd get the diamonds for me. They said I should stay out here and they'd get it and get out. We'd meet up when it was done and they'd give me the diamond"

I look at the female hostage close to me, "You get anything he's saying?" she shakes her head.

A male hostage directly in the middle screams against his bondage and thrusts out his shirt, "Oh yea, the time bomb" I completely forgot.

9:23...9:22....9:21...9:20

"Tom," I tried to stay focused. It made sense now why Sally sent me in, beat up afew guys and disarm the bomb...Friday night just really got interesting.