You and Frank were running through the streets holding onto his hand. He was leading you away from the cops as they heard the sirens from afar, when he pulled you into an ally holding your breath and ducked behind a dumpster. Waiting till the car drove pass. Frank was always good at hiding. That's why you enjoyed getting into trouble with him. The snow falling lightly as you breathed out.

"Damn that was close, they almost saw us breaking into the car-"

"Close?" Frank scoffed, tossing his head in the direction of the scrambling cops. "They never had a chance. They didn't know it yet, but they had lost before they even started for breaking the first rule." When asked what that rule was, he would simply slick his hair back and reply, "Never start a chase you can't finish."

To anyone paying a reasonable amount of attention, it should have come across like the ridiculous tautology it was. But Frank just had that way with his words, his tone, his presence in a room, that made it impossible not be taken in by anything he said. And he knew how to use that to his advantage. He curled his lip just so and blew out a breath upward, making a handful of snowflakes swing and dance in the little white puff cloud. When they were sure the cops were gone, he turned back to you.

"Now, I don't know about you, soldier," he teased, "but I for one haven't had nearly enough mayhem for one night yet."