My Kind of Woman
Megan@Midnight
Summary: Why did Sands trust Agent Ajedrez, anyway?
"Agent Ajedrez."
"Sands." It's not much. A nod on the street and CIA Agent Sheldon Sands running into a pretty lady on the streets of Mexico, his streets, it's not much at all. But he's intrigued all the same. By her. Sands knows everyone who works his streets. He's got files on everyone, either in his places shoved in the bookshelves, or his head, where they're a bit more accessible to him. The ones in the bookshelves are dull. He keeps the interesting ones where they're needed and available.
Agent Ajedrez's file is very interesting to him. She was very skilled with weapons, should have been running ops but tended to either be second to the male agents or ignored totally. She was also very angry. Sands can see it when he first met her. Ran into the lady in a bar on purpose of course. He never did things without purpose. A few more so called chance meetings later and he was in her bed. He knew her. Completely. She was vicious, furious, beautiful, and far more dangerous than those idiots at her workplace were giving her credit for. Sands considered them very stupid.
Get her up the ladder a bit and she'd be a force to be reckoned with. In bed she already was. Sheldon Sands didn't lack for partners when he wanted them, but damn. She was something completely else. All that anger so very useful, turn it the right way and she'd be his. Agent Sands was good at turning things his way. Having that dangerous, gorgeous woman on his side, maybe even at his side that would be a crowning moment. He's looking forward to it. Nothing better than playing the game with someone who knows how to play. Nothing better except winning the game. And the so fair lady.
Agent Ajedrez, Sheldon Sands reflects, is his kind of woman.