Totally AU, and AH which is not my usual schtick. But that's life, isn't it? This idea would not be ignored. The lyrics are from the song by Metric, Police and the Private off their album Live It Out. Part of the reason I chose this song was because it's so full of paranoia and not knowing who you can trust, which is a big undercurrent in this story. ALSO, I'm not an expert on safe houses, and agents, and police business in general, most is plucked from my imagination…and the movies, so if there are things wrong…that's why! Updates will be frequent, probably daily. It's sort of my goal to have this all uploaded within the next two weeks. And each chapter is going to be really short, so I will just do this long (sorry!) A/N and another at the end. Also, the different pieces can be read in the order I post them, or the order they technically take place. Whichever makes you happy happy happy :)
The rest is Stephie Meyer's.

Police and the Private

Keep one eye on the door, keep one eye on the bed
Never expect to be sure, who you're working for

Thursday November 6th, 6:15 AM.

She was sitting on the couch, her knee jiggling. They told me I should expect this.

For them to be nervous.

And she was talking. Chattering, actually. On and on and on. They said that this was done a lot also, because of the nerves, of course.

"This is not how I expected a safe house to look." She said, now jiggling her left knee instead. "I thought it would be more…I don't know. Desolate."

If you asked me, the plain brown couch, no decoration, and smell that meant not-regularly-lived-in…well that was enough to be pretty desolate.

"But the couch is nice enough. Springy." She bounced on it twice. "Sorry. I'm talking a lot. I don't usually talk this much."

"It's okay." I told her.