A/N Where this came from, I do not know. I guess we will never know. I dont actually like this very much so I might rewrite it. eh. Enjoy whatever the heck this is. Title came from Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds.

Prologue

"Could I see your ID please, Ma'am?" asks the officer who mans the door. Allison pulls out her card, which the nervous man takes to run through the scanner. Lydia does the same, and if Allison is not mistaken, slips the guy her number too. She glares at her red-haired colleague.

Lydia shrugs. "What? He's hot."

Over the years, Allison has learnt not to underestimate her friend. On the surface, she looked barely 20, like an all- American school girl. In reality, Lydia was famed in the service for her quick, remorseless way of dealing with the target. Allison knew better than to argue.

The buzzer sounds, a harsh sound, and the now even more flustered officer leads them down the rows of cells. Allison hears the catcalls from various prisoners- all male, of course. She hadn't been particularly looking forward to visiting Greenham Detention Centre, and Allison has half a mind to leave there and then. Lydia seems to take it in her stride, flipping her hair back and strutting down the hall like it was a goddamn catwalk.

Another brash buzzer rings out and the small door at the end opens. Allison steps inside, the smell of bleach attacking her senses. The room was filled long, steel tables coupled with similar benches. In the far corner was the outline of man, hunched over.

"A warning for you," mumbles the guard. "He's not one for co- operation." Lydia flashes him a threatening smile.

"Don't worry, sweetie,"she says."He will be when I'm finished."

Allison sighs, making her way over to the figure in the corner of the room, back to them. She pulls out the file she brought with her and attempts, again, to pronounce the impossible name printed on it.

"Just call him Stiles," said the Sheriff, when he'd given them the mission.

"So, tough guy, you got authority problems?" asks Lydia as she slides into place on the bench. 'Stiles' looks up and Allison gives him a once over, noting the similarities between him and her boss. Dimples. Face structure.

"Afraid not,"he says, with a crooked grin. Smile. He tugs on the shackles around his wrists. "It seems to have a problem with me." Messed up sense of humour.

"Your dad is head of a national crime fighting department," says Allison, flicking through the rap sheet, which is filled with random, unconnected crimes. There's one particular incident involving the new prototypes at NASA being posted all across Russian communication systems, which is what landed him here.

"I think that's kinda the point, Allison," smirks Lydia, using the pressure point. Lydia was always best at using family against people."Teenage rebellion. Daddy problems."

"Heard it all," sighs Stiles, looking supremely un-interested. "Not gonna work."

"We need your help,"says Allison, deciding to cut straight to the chase."There's a certain someone, a certain high profile someone who isn't what they seem. Secretly, they run a huge mafia business. Our department needs help getting rid of them."

There's silence for while and Lydia pulls out her phone, pretending as if she doesn't care what the answer is. "Let me get this straight," he laughs. "You want me, scary computer hacker, to help you, freaky FBI agents. For nothing in return." He pauses. "Why should I?"

"Because if you don't," hisses Lydia, leaning across the table."We can make sure that you spend a very, very long time here."

"Hate to break it to you sweetheart," snaps Stiles, leaning over himself. "But I'm already in here for an eternity and a half. The god damn land of the free isn't exactly happy that their precious rocket designs are in the hands of Soviet maniacs." Lydia growls, a low sound and Stiles scoffs like she isn't about to brutally murder him.

"Well then," says Allison." Help us and we can fix that." Lydia backs off, grudgingly, letting Allison play the nice guy trope.

"Who is this high profile someone?" asks Stiles, finally interested. Allison sucks in a breath, glancing at Lydia who nods.

"Peter Hale."

The name cuts through the air. Lydia suddenly looks down at the ground, the unforgiving memories pulled to the surface, and Stiles' eyes harden. It kinda freaks Allison out- as she realises she's in the company of two people who loathe Peter Hale as much as each other.

"I'm in."

A/N See, I was supposed to write the next chap of Much Ado about Nothing. But. I got sidetracked and this idea bothered me all week so i had. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I am still emotionally compramised by 3x18. Please review, I need to know if this is any good at all and if I should continue cos of reasons. I promise Much Ado will be up soon (hopefully).

Marine xxx