|Revised YAS 1| Discontinued

Dreams and hopes are the reason people live, people with no job say. For her, it was different. A reservoir of emotions that she was, she lived because she had to prove herself. Prove that she was much more than just an orphan. Having lived all her 20 years in an orphanage, she knew how to be strong.

Handsome as he was, he was flawed. He had his fears, his insecurities. He din't have what one called a life. Stuck up as an extremely dignified professional police officer at the Interpol, he still found something in life amiss. How far would he go to complete it.

"Come On, wake up. You have got to an interview, remember?" Muskaan pulled off Ridhima's blanket from her, leaving her eyes to squint at the sun rays.

"You up. Before me," stated Ridhima, knowing that this day was definitely going down in history.

"Exactly. Which gives you a reason to wake up for my extraordinary sacrifice. Now GET UP," urged Muskaan as Ridhima pushed her still-sleepy body up against gravity and opened her eyes completely.

"Are you seriously jobless?" groaned Ridhima.

"Not me. You are. And that's why you woke up. To get a job. Now go," commanded Muskaan.

"Jeez, I can't believe you woke me up. Have this happened before?" dug Ridhima, making a deep-in-thought face

"Nope, it hasn't. and you are lucky you had me to wake you. It's 8:30 already. And- " blabbered Muskaan.

"What? Its 8:30 already. Muski! You suck at waking people up. You need to practice. Now move," advised Ridhima as though waking people up was a professional job. Muskaan 'HAWed' before her and Ridhima went upto her and gave a smiley smack with her shoulders onto hers.

Ridhima was still bathing when the breakfast bell rang. She showered the soap off her body and came out in her dripping, clad in her towel. Muskaan was not there. She hurried in her dressing up.

Selecting a dress was never an issue. She grabbed the one on the left most corner, a light midnight blue suit and quickly dressed up. Unlike any ordinary girl, she put minimal make up. Though minimal make up in her words, was just kohl and vaseline on her lips.

"John. I need a favor," he asked his senior.

"Yeah, sure. Go on."

"Leave. I need leave indefinitely."

"What? Why suddenly?" asked a surprised John. Never, never has Armaan Mallik asked for leave. He was the one who worked even on off days.

He looked straight into his senior's face. John, perfectly read the absolute need in his face.

"Okay."

Armaan sighed, and left the room after a brief talk with John.

He was packed already. He just had to leave. He called up the travel agent and confirmed his ticket details.

His cell rang. Eyeing the unfamiliar number, he hesitated a little. Then he went on to hit the green button.

"I heard someone is going on a vacation." The voice, he knew too well. He gritted his teeth in anguish as cruel, cold laugh emerged from the other side of the phone.

The waiter bought the third cake for Ridhima, this time the flavor being chocolate chip, while the others had sandwiches and muffins. Armaan rolled his eyes from the cake to Ridhima, wondering thick in his head how this woman did that. Back in France, women cared about diets and good looks. And here was a specimen who not only had no qualms in indulging herself but also was strikingly attractive. The others too noticed them but they shook it away as Armaan dwelled into gazing at this wonderful lady.

The sun was giving way to the blue-white clouds as the cafe's crowds resigned for the day. However, the six, who sat at the corner of the caf were least bothered.

"So Ridhima, with Armaan here now, you could tell us now who is more charming, right?" asked Vivek.

"Huh! Yeah, right. You hadn't forgotten."

"Sharp Memory! Tell me, who among us is the most charming guy?"

Armaan who had no clue about what they talking jerked up and Atul explained to him. Vivek snapped Rahul, interrupting him from an intense eye lock with Muskaan. Muskaan, who was unusually quiet now, diverted her attention to the ones around her.

The guys gave Ridhima their full on attention and she could only hope to know why. But she guessed it was to keep her comfortable when Muskaan is lost in her husband-to-be. Nevertheless, Ridhima fell in for the 4 cuties sitting in front of her. Rahul and Vivek gestured to perfect their hairs and removed the first 2 buttons. Armaan remained himself while Atul simply gave his cutest pout, while Muskaan giggled at their kiddish actions. Ridhima played along, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Rahul is taken, right," mockingly murmuring to herself and glanced at Muskaan, who gave an animated approving nod. "Then Vivek, hmm," Vivek sat up, putting on a face of excitement, raising his eyebrows; "too desperate" she said finally, leaving Muskaan to peals of laughter.

Next she placed her focus on Armaan, who simply relaxed and sat with his back all the way placed neatly along the cozy caf chair.

The strength of his deep ocean wave eyes hit her bright emerald ones with unimaginable weight. The little of his muscular chest that peeked through his shirt gave a little color to her face. After all, she was a single young lady and handsome men were bound to capture her attention. Armaan caught her checking him out with that grin-n-wicked smile on her face and for the first time, felt the real Armaan come back live.

The top flirt in Armaan awoke after 7 long years and he didn't realize it just then the immensity of the power she held in him.

As though going against gravity, Ridhima pulled away from their little 'eye-game'. She shifted her senses to Atul, chuckling at her own stupid thoughts which had ventured into different wavelengths a few moments back.

"Atul, I pick Atul!," she finally said, dropping her hands onto the table.

Vivek and Rahul "HAW"ed and Vivek wiped an invisible tear. Atul gave his most adorable toothy smile and victoriously sat up straight. Ridhima stole a glance at Armaan, only to see him give her an all-knowing-wicked grin. It made Ridhima yearn to stare at him longer and figure out his intentions.

Armaan's instincts persuaded him to hold the soft fingers that now tapped the table rhythmically. True, this was his first proper meeting with her and although, he never questioned anything deep on his 'over-protectiveness' for Ridhima, he liked it so much that it seemed as good as a dream. Her pleasant talks drove his attention automatically to her and more than once, he hoped he wasn't such a messed up person. He wished that like today, he could sit next to her.

"Okies, let's leave all that," proclaimed Vivek, changing the topic. "What are you girls doing tomorrow evening?"

"We haven't really decided," said Muskaan, looking at Ridhima, who nodded.

"Yeah, lunch is at Rahul's. She wanted to see her to-be-daughter-in-law it seems. No plan as of now for tomorrow. But I wanted to catch up with Harry Potter, the last movie. But I don't think we will able to make it there after everything," said Ridhima, slightly frowning on missing another weekend in catching the last movie of her ever favorite series.

Armaan couldn't help to contain himself. His suppressed chuckles led Ridhima to shoot him murderous looks. She guessed it was because of her abnormal love for Harry Potter. Muskaan included, most people couldn't think straight on how a working lady as mature as her could still hook on to and remain so fan-girlish on kiddo movies, especially the kind that just did not associate with the real world. Still, Ridhima pulled on an empty face and asked Armaan.

"What?"

"Harry Potter, seriously," he said, moving forward and settling his arms on to the table, depriving his back of the support.

Ridhima, who was sitting forward all this while, moved back impulsively.

"Why? Harry Potter isn't meant for me?"

"Armaan, don't bother fighting with her. I am warning you. She will make sure you learn every spell before you walk out of this caf," Muskaan told as a matter-of-factedly.

"Really?," asked Armaan, rolling his eyes from Muskaan to Ridhima.

The sounds of provocation in his challenging exclamation din't go unnoticed by Ridhima. Rahul watched the two keenly while Vivek and Atul subtly sat quiet like two kids sitting in an auditorium enjoying live entertainment.

"Any doubts?," said Ridhima majestically.

"Actually no!," he said.

"Good," said Ridhima, proudly but she had spoken it too early.

"But don't harry potter is a little too out of the world. I mean come on, you and I both know there exists nothing called magic. And just because you have a kid who can defeat a no-nose man, doesn't make him big enough to earn all the attention in the world. God and you women! He faints, you cry. He lost his parents, you cry. His friends left him, you cry. Are you all so jobless?"

By the time, he had finished his speech; Ridhima was flaring on her nose. No matter how mature she was, anything said against something she hearted, ignited her.

"Uh Oh! Armaan, I think you woke the sleeping dragon!" threatened Muskaan.

"I don't know about you, buddy but I am thoroughly enjoying myself," said Vivek, sipping his coffee.

"Ditto, Vivi." Atul nudged him while he high fived Rahul.

"So, Ridhima. You have something to tell to our HP basher ' Armaan," instigated Rahul. How he wished to tell Vivek and Atul about these two. Moreover, he thought of Muskaan, who would be overjoyed. She had confided in him some time back that she needed time for marriage just so that the transition is not so fast for Ridhima. But now, he saw all chances in Armaan and Ridhima getting together and that anonymously would give an end to her best lady's dilemma. He paused to see the innocence in her face, his face by itself revealing happiness.

Ridhima drew a huge breath.

"Yeah, I do. I just want to ask our Armaan if he is ready for a challenge," said Ridhima, dramatically, taking no effort is diverting her attention to anything but him.

"Ooh! This just keeps getting better and better," commented Atul.

"Sure Ridhima, go on."

"Watch every movie in 2 day's time and then tell me straight after that you hate it."

Armaan raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure you want that? Because I can tell this very moment that I hate it."

"Then you got to admit that you fear my HP challenge,'' said Ridhima casually, poising her fork over her cake.

For the next brief moment, the two shared what one could title the 'deadly' eye lock.

"Fine!," said Armaan, banging his palms onto the metallic surface of the table.

"You admit?," exclaimed Ridhima in surprise.

"Not that! I accept the challenge!".

"Okay! Are you sure they are meeting for the first time?" whispered Atul.

Muskaan nodded her head with an I-know-right look.

"How do I know that you won't cheat?" The battle was continuing on the other side.

"Excuse Me! I don't cheat," he defended, in exasperation.

"How do I know that?", she asked him stressing out on words.

Armaan made a strange guttural sound and she grinned widely.

"You have no choice but to accept me, you know. I don't think there is anything you can do to check me out every now and then."

"Well, who said, I can't. I have all means to keep an'''''"

Her words were drowned in the harsh and piercing sounds of the flower vases, crackling themselves. The window was blown and it hardly took seconds because the entire window came crashing onto the floor. The flying pieces of glass etched onto the occupants, leaving screams. But it was the gun shots that sent people to panic points.

Trained to handle this situation and foreseeing such moments in the back of his head, Armaan yelled, "EVERYBODY, DOWN ON THE FLOOR." The other five took a moment longer as sense to his words dawned upon them and luck alone saved Muskaan from the third bullet. Vivek revived first from the frantic state of mind after Armaan.

He took a quick glance at Ridhima. She was breathing normally, but her face had worry written all over and it intrigued Armaan that she wasn't worried or fearing for herself. She was head stricken over the close miss Muskaan had over the bullet.

Armaan seethed his hands behind him and curled his fingers around his service pistol. He held his spine straight along the wall and slowly slipped up, making just little space for his eyes to place the shooter. He failed to spot the shooter when another shot came dashing at a different angle.

He whispered, 'Stay' and despite the protests of his companions, crept down the floor, giving in a few words of assurance to the people he crossed by. When he reached the entrance of the cafe, he shut his eyes, seeing the image of his late mother and in one fluid motion, kicked open the remaining part of glass.

I have nothing to say. Just let me know what you feel about the whole thing. I am worn out for today so off to bed. Love ya all. MUAH.

Love and Prayers,

Amal

When he reached the entrance of the cafe, he shut his eyes, seeing the image of his late mother and in one fluid motion, kicked open the remaining part of the glass.

The glass flew ahead of him and pieces of it pierced through his arms. He ignored the pain his body imbibed from it and put forth his arms clutching onto his shield to the direction of the last bullet. His sharp eyes searched around the corners for signs of running men. When he din't pick anything unusual, he signalled a man, who was holding his own pistol in a black car indicating with his thump to the cafe. The man nodded and Armaan was off on a jog as he waved his pistol.

The bullet directly penetrated through the post that Armaan had just crossed. His focus immediately diverted to the direction as he readied his weapon in hand and lunged for a little breath. He saw the glint of the Glock forty five the masked man was holding and was off in an endless sprint shouting the crowd to secure themselves to the ground. He indicated his three backups who covered on all sides and occasionally led the public to safety.

Back at the cafe, Rahul was tending to the badly scraped Muskaan's knees, thanks to her sudden crash onto the floor. Ridhima stared at Muskaan with her head muddled. She took courage to peep through the now glass-less window and saw Armaan running. The chords of her heart tugged and she found herself silently praying. Vivek deeply wished he had his gun with him and go out and help Armaan. But Atul and Rahul would just not let him move an inch from where he sat. As all of them found immediate shelter under the metallic table of Starbucks, an awkward silence encircled them. Rahul could not but help to sigh as he saw a totally clueless Ridhima.

Swearing on missing him, Armaan's swift sprints reduced to jogs. He stopped his trails when a piece or more like a shred of black nylon caught his attention. It was ripped halfway through the fence that surrounded a park. Pocketing the evidence, Armaan himself jumped the fence, praying hard that he will be able to make it for it was tall and had pointed tips that made them look this spears connected together.

Ridhima craved with all her heart to just catch one glimpse of him to keep calm and tell herself that he was all right. Of course, he was no one. But imagining those blue eyes of his in any other manner than that incredible stare was next to impossible. It's no crime to feel for a fellow human, she convinced herself.

Armaan pictured the shooter in his head as wide spans of green lush lay ahead of him. Now where? He mentally calculated all possibilities. The shooter would want to escape but with the mask and everything, he will be easily noticed and as long as he isn't so stupid, he would get rid of them and would make an attempt to mingle with the crowd. But the point is how and where?

"You okay?", asked Ridhima to Muskaan whose eyes were all red with suppressed tears.

"I am good," mumbled Muskaan feebly. "You?"

"Okay."

Atul and Vivek raced out of the cafe in search of Armaan once the police had come and announced that they were good to hail home. Rahul attended to an aging couple who were present in the cafe with them and was emotionally struck by the event. He got them to an ambulance after the grandpa complained of loss of breath.

He cannot have gone far. He should be here. Which is the one place he can be with raising suspicion? The kid's play area. Among the parents, maybe, Armaan's head answered his questions and he reached the play area before he knew it. He halted and breathing deeply checked out every man who wore a black shirt and was probably wearing that expression of fear.

His attention caught on that thin figure that gulping down water from the cooler and was carrying that very face Armaan looked for. He scrutinized the man for a minute or two and when he turned, Armaan saw a hole in his pants.

Rahul offered to drive Ridhima and Muskaan home. Ridhima was apprehensive of leaving without any knowledge of what was happening. But, considering Muskaan, Ridhima agreed and decided to leave their scooters around for the night and come back for them tomorrow.

Armaan hit his cell.

"Nikhil, cover the park. He's here. Black shirt and black pants with a whole on the right calf region. Pass the message."

"Sir."

And now all he had to do was wait for the police to spread and that son of a b**** will be trapped.

He rested his head on a tree whilst keeping a steady gaze on the shooter, who was now downing a soda in gulps.

Anger. That's what he felt. This was no terrorist attack. This was an attempt to get even. Get even with him. And he felt like a loser each time something like this came up. If he ever needed to breathe properly, he would need to place Burt behind bars. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. But he had to for him, for her, for ...

He heard sirens and it seemed as though the shooter himself was on his alert. He dropped his drink down in the floor and looking down walked quickly to an exit. Armaan followed him and upon realizing that Armaan had a gun in his head, the shooter broke into a chase and Armaan shouted. "Stop! Interpol". His calls signalled the Mumbai police officers themselves but no one happened to be blocking the shooter from the front. Armaan saw him push down the couples and flock into the exit gate.

By the he reached outside the gate, Armaan found no traces of the guy in black. He panted heavily as he checked the place out. He almost gave up when he saw the tiny head just around the corner.

"Hey! Stop!"

He knew the guy had an early start.

Armaan ran around the building as fast as his legs could take him. When he reached the end of the building, his eyes found the man, just a few metres away from him and he clearly read the shock on his face as the guy spotted Armaan. On his feet, Armaan took off faster and the guy took a sharp turn. Armaan followed him.

Armaan thought he was dashed into. He tripped slightly due to the inertia but thanked his stars for not causing an accident.

Seeing the shooter file into the streets, Armaan wished for extra pairs of legs.

"OWW!" yelped Ridhima as the car suddenly jerked forward. Muskaan too let out similar sounds. "What happened?"

"Armaan!" said Rahul in disbelief, unbuckling his seat belt.

Ridhima saw him, then. She saw his torso bend over the car.

Rahul had barely gotten out of the car, when Armaan had already begun his race. Armaan turned deaf ears to Rahul's calls.

"What the damn is he doing? He is going to hurt himself," said Ridhima in desperation.

Knowing well that the running might continue for eternity, Armaan took a moment to regain himself and eyed his target, keeping his hands in place.

Bam!

The public stilled as the whole of the shooter fell hard on the pavement. He yelled in pain clutching his legs for good life

Armaan lunged in chunks of air. He dialled the emergency number on his cell.

"I need an ambulance right way.. just around the corner of Central Park. YEah. QUICK"

"You must be so out of your head," said a voice behind him, just as he clicked his cell off.

Armaan turned to face an exasperated Rahul. Ridhima joined right behind him.

"Your okay?," asked Rahul. "It was my car that hit you."

"Yeah? I..I.. din't know.

"Of course, you wouldn't. Seriously, what were you thinking? There were police, why did you have to take all the pain?"

"Chillax, Ral. I have done these kinda of things before.

"You work with the police!," exclaimed Ridhima.

"International Police," Armaan corrected her.

"Oh! Okay! But you should have waited for the others to come up. I mean what if he had anything with him." She tried calming herself. Something about his strong manly looks and the stylish way his sweat dripped along his cheeks gave her girly heart a kick.

"I can't think of all that when a criminal is escaping, Ridh," laughed Armaan.

Ridhima made a face but only she knew that most of it was because of the subtle way he called her 'Ridh'.

"But you have to from now on. Come," ordered Rahul.

"Wait.Wait. Rahul. Just take Ridhima home. I have got work to do. I mean we just caught a shooter. There are things that come after that."

Ridhima frowned. The idea of him questioning the shooter, although sexy in her head, sort of sounded like ringing danger to her.

"C'mon on. You are not the only one who can do that," snapped Rahul.

"Ral, please!"

Armaan gave Rahul a look and Rahul knew instantly how much this meant to him. Rahul could see the ingrained fume he held within.

"Okay. As you wish. But get home soon and call me when you do."

"Yeah, sure."

"Can't it wait? I mean, you look worn out." Ridhima surprised the duo with her comment.

"Umm. It's okay. I will handle it," said Armaan, gazing at Ridhima, wondering how distinctly cute it was when she just popped up with a comment like that. It was no big deal but he couldn't deny that he didn't like the attention.

"At least get a drink," suggested Ridhima.

Armaan scratched his head. "Yeah, a drink wouldn't hurt."

Ridhima brightened at the idea of entering into a cafe once again. Cafes were her favourite places on earth. After The Nest, of course.

"C'mon. My treat for the brave cop," said Ridhima.

"Huh?"

"That's what they call a police officer right, back in Europe," said Ridhima, reducing her volume, hoping fervently that she was right.

"Oh! Yeah. Yeah. Yeah."

"Okies. While you guys plan on your second coffee outing, I will get Muski back home. She is tired. She needs rest, I guess. Will you drop Ridhima?" interrupted Rahul. He saw how totally ignorant the both were of his presence and he sensed that something might turn on if he left them alone for some time.

"Okay. I will drop her before leaving for interrogation. It will take time before his leg will be all cleaned and bandaged," said Armaan, without thinking twice.

"Great then! I am leaving. Bye. Bye Ridhima. You enjoy your evening," signed off a waving Rahul. Rahul noticed how Armaan bend his rules for Ridhima and he pondered on how long it will take for Armaan to realize that.

On the backdrop of busy officials rushing in and the sirens of the ambulances blaring, Armaan escorted Ridhima to the nearby Barista, like a perfect gentlemen. Ridhima couldn't help but forgive him for hating Harry Potter.

That's it guys. I just wrote this part without any pre-planning. That coffee in the end was not supposed to be there but I sort of wanted Ridhima to have a crazy heart right from the beginning. MUAH. Love ya all.

Amal