A/N: I would first off like to apologize if there are any mistakes. I have yet to find a beta for this and as such there probably things I've missed in my pass overs. Next I would like to explain a couple of plot points that are bound to get me some negative feedback. The first of which is her drinking at 15. I as an author figured that if she was essentially raised in this organization and no really cared if she killed and tortured people she could drink with no reprimand. The second is her choice to pursue a sexual relationship with Charlie. I refer back to my explanation of the first. Now, I only have one more thing to address before I go and let you enjoy. I would greatly appreciate it if my readers would please refrain from leaving hateful reviews. This being said, I do not mind constructive criticism offering valid corrections and questions and concerns but I do not find hateful, ugly reviews funny or acceptable in any way, shape, or form. Any user - anonymous or otherwise - will -either find their review removed or reported. Thank you for your understanding and please enjoy.

Prologue

The agency takes things from you; pieces of your soul, humanity, sanity. It changes you. It's almost funny how they change you, warp you. They take you from a human, a normal person, to a despicable being – a monster – with a taste for screams and blood and death. I was a child when they took me in. My parents along with my siblings had died. He took me in, trained me. I was his golden girl, his apprentice, his legacy in the organization and because of this I got the most difficult assignments, the best targets, the best partners. When I got to a place where I stopped caring if I came back alive from assignments he let me leave, respected my choice, didn't fight me, didn't question me, understood why. He let me leave because he knew; knew that I would come back when he needed me. He let me experience the world outside of the agency; gave me a chance to find an anchor to stay.

I remember the first part of me they claimed. I was a ghost to the rest of the world; declared dead with the rest of my "family" - not that we were any semblance of one to begin with. My mother was an all around abusive shrew who loved to curse and my father was a neglectful, demanding asshole with penchant for drinking in unhealthy amounts. My siblings weren't much better. They were angry, bitter teens who came with my mom from her first marriage. They hated me jut like they hated my father. My two brothers liked to use me as their personal punching bag and my sole sister pretended I didn't exist. So we weren't a family, just a group of people legally related to each other through marriage and blood. When they died I wasn't sad that I had lost my "family". At the time I hadn't been aware that I had lost anything. It was later that I realized that I had lost my connection to world, to the rest of humanity.

I lost the next piece several years later. I was in my teens – about 15 – on an assignment with Charlie. Charlie was a fairly regular partner of mine and because of this we are pretty close. It was after we had finished up the assignment and were just catching up with each other while riding out the high from everything. I didn't know if it was the fact I was older – more mature than in the past in both looks and personality – or the high or the fact we both had one to many drinks but that night his lips were on mine in what started out as a chaste kiss but quickly became full of passion, a kiss that woke up every inch of my body. At 15 I wasn't innocent in the ways of sex; I was no stranger to them. I had just never wanted to have sex with any one before that moment. I welcomed his advances, responded to each and every one with equal fervor. His hands ran over my body, mine over his. That night was the first of many over the next several years. That night I lost another piece of myself, my virginity.

The last piece I lost took me a while to notice it was missing. I first had a feeling after the fall of the agency when I had received a kill card for Huck. Huck was a not a friend but a partner in arms, someone who understood the things I did – the pleasure I got from it – so I didn't follow through on the order but I did track him down and with him I found Charlie. Charlie. He was still ridiculously handsome, still addicted to basically anything with sugar, still irritatingly aloof and I was still madly attracted to him. See, Charlie isn't like most guys. He's not the kind to call you pet names like honey or sweety. He won't always answer you calls or be around. He can be blunt – sometimes to the point of being rude – and demanding and he has this thing for getting it rough not to mention his habit of giving people nicknames. But he can be really sweet, supportive, helpful, kind, and charming. It just takes awhile to get through his annoying "I just follow the guy with the money's orders" attitude. Charlie understands the high, the rush, the need for hearing agony filled screams, bones breaking, blood dripping to the floor from cuts made just deep enough for them bleed; for watching the light leave someone's eyes as they die. I never realized that my attraction had developed into something more until I watched him interact with Quinn. Now, Quinn's a great person – a bit quirky but that's to be expected of someone who willingly joined this profession – but in that moment and for several months afterwords I hated her. I was jealous of her and her connection with Charlie but I never acted on it because I could see the love he felt towards her in his eyes. It wasn't until 2 months later that I realized that I was horribly, irrevocably, deeply in love with him. It took me hunting down and painfully killing the guy who was hired to take him out. Once Command realized he was under my protection he never sent someone else to finish the job. The third piece of me I lost was my heart to Charlie, to the man who never realized – and probably wouldn't care if he did – that he owns my heart and because of that me.