Action is eloquence.

-William Shakespear
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 - 1616)

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Soundtrack: (Good Girl, Bad Boy; Junior Senior.)

Prologue:

When you're going to a boarding school that has the capacity of over half the United States Military, word gets around. Therefore, when you're sitting quietly trying to read a book, and look up to discover that all eyes are trained curiously on you, you know that you did something to start gossip.

The only question was…

What'd I do this time?

--

The hallways were the same beige color that they had been our entire lives—well, ever since they built it anyway. The school was over a hundred years old, the walls covered with recommendations and approval worthy notices saying that the school was one of the best—which it was, in its own odd way.

Students were milling about, not as eager as I was to make it to my room. I just wanted to sleep. After a rather boring summer spent with my father in Forks, I really didn't look forward to the interrogation that I was most likely going to go through if I were to stay outside of the dorms.

So, shuffling past familiar faces and new ones, I located the recognizable room in the middle of the hall, and gratefully turned the knob to find it already unlocked. I stepped inside, shutting the door with my foot which acted as a barrier to the loud voices right down the hall.

Sighing contentedly, I turned to find that the room was the same as I had left it last year—the two queen size beds were situated across the room from each other, each pushed against an opposite wall with a small nightstand complimenting each. Directly in front of me was a large, wide window, the curtains drawn back letting in the afternoon light that spilled across the Kelly green carpet.

Apparently my roommate had already been here—her bed was ruffled, the sheets pulled back and indented upon as though someone had recently been in it. Of course the rather noteworthy posters were already plastered up against her side of the wall, making my own look boring and insubstantial. I rolled my eyes; Rosalie would be Rosalie.

Placing my heavy luggage onto the downy comforter, I looked around for the little nuisance of a friend—and that's when the bathroom door opened, and a half naked jock walked right into the middle of the room.

"Holy crap!" I shrieked, covering my eyes and turning around. Though he was in a towel, I certainly didn't expect that Rosalie would get busy this early; the school year hadn't even started yet for crying out loud!

"Oh, wow, sorry. Didn't know that anyone was in here," he mumbled in a deep resonating voice that sounded gravelly, even to me. I heard some shuffling, and then Rosalie's smooth voice rang out from the direction the guy had just come from.

"Hey, Brad, could you toss me my bra?"

Ew. I didn't even want to know why she was missing that article of clothing. When he didn't respond, she must have peeked out to see what was taking him so long and I heard her shriek as clearly as I could hear my own labored breathing.

"OH MY GOD!"

Deciding that I had had enough action for one day, I grabbed my saddle bag and, calling out to Rosalie, grabbed my key and opened the door.

"Hey, Rose, sorry to interrupt, I'll be back in a few hours!" And I high-tailed it out of there.

As soon as I was out the door, my chest deflated in relief and I found my feet immediately walking toward the administrative building. I wasn't exactly the most graceful of people, so when I found myself tripping over a certain boy, I couldn't help but internally groan.

"Hello, Bella!" Tyler's eager expression made me want to run away. He was a nice kid around me—but it didn't take a lot of brains to know that he wasn't exactly the epitome of innocence. There were rumors—and then there were also facts. And facts had proven that although Tyler was altogether good-looking and not a total dork, he was not someone I wanted to get involved with.

"Hey, Tyler," I replied, straightening myself out as he helped me up with one hand.

"Clumsy as ever, I see," he joked, casually slinging a hand around my shoulder as though we were the best of friends. I smiled innocently at him, and managed to shrug out from under his arm without him noticing.

"Yeah, well, I was actually headed to see Mr. Marks, so I guess I'll see you around," I got out, my voice sounded oddly calm, even to me although I was shaking inside.

"Yeah, definitely!" His face portrayed the eager anticipation that I had just instilled in him. Great. I hadn't meant him to take it so literally. Keeping on my fake smile, I turned on my heel and strode even more quickly away from him, dropping the mask as I made it around the corner.

The buildings surrounding the main school were just as glamorous, if not even more so. They were designed in the eighteen-hundreds by Spanish officials who had once used these buildings as monasteries. The teachers had been teaching us about the history of the school since I had arrived here, and it never ceased to amaze me. Although we hadn't yet learned how us Americans had gotten such things in our possession, I mused that it must have taken a lot of bribing and a lot of money.

The stone arches above me were intricately carved with designs that must have once held some important meaning, but now simply served the purpose of being beautiful. I pulled on the glass door, the handle feeling slick under my dry skin (no doubt having been polished seconds before). As soon as the door closed behind me, the air conditioner immediately kicked back on, and I was met by a welcome breeze that ruffled my hair lightly as I stepped toward the receptionist's desk.

It was a large waiting room, chairs lined perfectly against each wall with comfortable cushions balanced on top of them. The carpet was an off color tone that was meant to relax, but instantly made me tense, because I knew the reason that people were supposed to be relaxed in here—not suspicious.

The woman manning the desk at that moment was very business-like, wearing a bright red jacket with a zebra print scarf that hung limply around her neck, matching the black skirt that hung just off her knees as she stood, shuffling through important paper work.

Once she heard my approach however, she looked up, her hair moving awkwardly to the side on its high perch on top of her head.

"Can I help you?" she asked quietly, as though we were under surveillance—which we pretty much were, now that I thought of it.

"Yes, I'm here to see Marks," I answered a little louder than she had. She nodded, her hair rhythmically bobbing with the motion, and I stifled a laugh as it looked like it was about to fall over. Wonder who her hair styler was.

But instead of immediately admitting me through the other pair of double glass doors like the other assistants did, she picked up the shiny black phone in front of her, pressing one with a well-manicured hand and waited impatiently for someone to pick up on the other line.

"You have someone here to see you." I could read her lips as they moved ever so quietly against the mouth piece, as though she didn't want me in on some private conversation.

I smirked. If only she knew the things that I was capable of knowing.

She set the phone down, her heavily lidded eyes drooping slightly as she gazed at me. I kept my expression carefully blank as she made her assessment, her lips pursing unhappily.

"You may go in to see him now," she finally answered, turning away from me to copy something on a scanner.

I nodded and swiftly made my way toward his office, not looking forward to whatever message he needed to give me. It was just another school year—but he had promised that this year could be normal for me. I had waited and endured the time that my Junior year would come, when I would finally get a break from all the madness and security that my job entailed—but now that he was calling on me, again, I realized that this sort of life didn't have a break.

The well polished wood door taunted me as I stared at it, deliberating on whether or not I should really go in and take whatever assignment he'd already promised to give me. With a sigh, I turned to walk away, having decided I didn't want this, but his voice stopped me as he chuckled.

"Come on in, Bella. You know that you're dying of curiosity anyways."

Why did he always get me like that? He always knew what I was thinking—it was so unfair. Not simply because he was the whole director of the agency and I was madly jealous that I wasn't even his assistant on certain missions, but because he wouldn't even allow me the proper respect of declining one when I so desperately needed to.

The door opened before I could even touch it, and he sat smirking at me behind his large mahogany desk, reflecting his pale blond hair. The name plate in front of him read, Carlisle Marks, but I knew better. It was actually hilarious that he had chosen something as 'inconspicuous' as Marks as his last name.

Carlisle Cullen had married and become the father of a beautiful baby boy when he was reinstated back into the CIA. Wanting to protect his newly formed family, he left them behind to do his job. His story made me sad, but he had very subtly informed me that he had his ways of communicating with them, though not even his superiors knew this fact.

I felt smug when I had first learned that he had confided this information with me only, but I guess he actually had a reason in doing so.

"Carlisle," I acknowledged as I stepped around the massively large and grand black leather chairs that were situated in front of him.

He grinned, and leaned back further, toying with a simple pen, moving it back and forth between his pale fingers.

"Ah, Bella. You never cease to amaze me with your resistance."

I winced at him, and resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. He was infuriating at times, though he acted as a rather imposing father-figure in my life. Our relationship was an odd one; we bantered like old friends though he was a decade older at the least, but at other times he was there to comfort me when I needed help.

I had a seriously messed up life.

"Whatever. So what's up?" I asked, wondering what odd job he had for me this year. Every year it was something different—just last semester at school, I had to try and stop a bomb from going off just fifty yards of the vice president at a Presidential Debate. It wasn't as fun as it sounds.

He grimaced, though he knew that I wanted to get straight to the point. I was sufficiently irritated that I really wouldn't be able to enjoy a normal life for once—and I had to lie, again, this year so that I wouldn't be a target if I was found out. Rosalie was really the only person that understood and knew about my situation—but this was only because she was in on the whole thing. She didn't deal in Covert Operations as I did, but she definitely did an important job.

Rosalie was gorgeous to say the least. She could get any guy with the snap of her fingers, and yet she preferred to work behind the scenes. She dealt with computer mechanics, hacking, and being able to get me an ID that stated I was twenty one within five minutes flat. And since she was the only five year old in existence to have ever cracked a NASA authorization code, it was easy for her parents to decide to send her here.

"Well…I need you to keep an eye out for quite a few people this year," he admitted as I finally sat down in the plush chairs, tired of standing. I raised my eyebrow at him.

He sighed in defeat and went on. "They were all sent here from other schools, but they're after…" he trailed off, but I wasn't sure if he hesitated because he couldn't tell me, or if because he seriously didn't know.

"At any point, they will be attending the school, and I want you to stick close to them, find out how they're trying to get what they need to get." His tone was serious and demanding, but there was immense hurt buried deep in his eyes, pleading somewhere under his voice. It made me cautious—and curious. Nothing I had ever known had done this to Carlisle except…

"Here is all the information you'll need, as well as their schedules and yours. And please, try not to make anything too obvious," he pleaded.

I snorted, though I knew that I had had a few slip ups in the past. I was very vulnerable toward guys my age, so when I underwent a test that Carlisle had authorized, I utterly failed because the kid was charming. It hadn't happened since then.

I delicately picked up the three folders that he had slapped down in front of me, just as he turned in his chair and pushed back a door-like piece of the wall, revealing monitors of all shapes and sizes, surveying the ground, the hallways, the staff…

I looked down at the first file and pulled back the beige colored flap and stared right at a stunning girl, who was my age with cropped black hair that was gelled into spikes going in all different directions. She had lightly tanned skin, though her complexion was more of a pale color, more so than mine. I looked past her birth date, her relationships, height, weight, and her social security number to her full name.

Mary Alice Brandon, more commonly referred to by Alice.

Interesting that she would take her original name and use it during her time as an agent.

I moved on to the next folder which I almost gasped in surprise when I saw the face. The boy was extremely older looking with short black hair, though that didn't defer from the definition of his muscles once I saw them. He looked like he could be in college.

Once again, I looked past all of the prudent information, and saw his full name.

Emmett Dale McCarty.

I looked back up to Carlisle before I opened the next file. He was studying the monitor that was watching the boys' hallways very closely, obviously looking for someone in specific.

"Carlisle?" I called gently, bringing him out of his reverie as he smiled and turned to me with sad eyes. I felt bad for interrupting him, but this was important.

"Are they all…from the same place? Or were they each sent here separately, also competing against each other to get…whatever it is?"

He frowned at my question and I got the impression that he had been trying to avoid this topic. I couldn't fathom why, it would be even better either way. If they were altogether, I wouldn't have to deal with being seen with one of them and be under scrutiny by the other. If they weren't together, they would compete with each other by themselves, and I would simply have to stir up some dust to make them fight and reveal themselves, abruptly ending their mission.

It was simple.

So why was Carlisle so concerned?

"Alice and Emmett are together but…" Once again he didn't fully answer my question, just stared unseeingly at the wall. I finally looked down to the last person in my hands.

He was beautiful, I couldn't deny him that.

His eyes immediately drew my attention, their brilliant lush color as they stared mockingly at me from the photo. I shuddered—I didn't need something like a distraction during this. His hair was a vibrant color, dancing on the fine line of maroon and copper, an odd mix, but making him all the more handsome as the shadows that played across his face defined his jaw and neck muscles.

I looked away from the angelic boy to his name and age.

Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.

Born June 20, 1991.

Shocked, my head snapped up to stare at the back of Carlisle's head. It couldn't be…

"My son."

He spoke before it registered in my mind why he had been like this the entire time I had shown up. I had to make sure that his son didn't get his hands on whatever he wanted. I had to make sure that his son didn't know anything about what, and who I was. I had to possibly…seduce his son.

And he knew that.

But he was going to see his son for the first time since he'd left him, and he probably couldn't even tell him who he was. In this predicament, his son was the enemy, and he couldn't let him win… and then another thought occurred to me.

"Does Elizabeth know that he's…?" I didn't have to finish my sentence.

"Yes."

I inhaled deeply only to let it out again and rise from my seated position, tucking the files into my bag, away from the prying eye.

"How long?" He knew what I was asking.

"They're already here."

The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.

-Saint Jerome
church father & saint (374 AD - 419 AD)

Prologue:

Sometimes, when you're forced to do something that you don't really want to do, it makes it even worse than it really is.

I hadn't wanted to be here in the first place, but suddenly I knew that it was somehow pertinent to how I would end up in the future. When you had to do something that could hurt someone you truly loved, it tore you up inside.

People who were left in the past were suddenly appearing again, and it ached even more painfully to know that they would fully understand if I went ahead with my plan.

Sometimes I just couldn't win.

--

The limousine was impossibly grand and impeccably conspicuous. I wouldn't be surprised if some random kid who didn't have enough brains to pass Trig figured out that I wasn't an average student.

I ran a hand swiftly through my hair, agitated.

The soft chuckle across the seat from me made me shift my gaze upward, glaring at the woman in front of me.

"What?" I snapped.

"You're so cute when you're irritated," she explained.

I scowled at her, ignoring the subtle hint that she was trying to give me. Tanya was always after me, ever since I had been recruited into this business. Of course I didn't share her feelings, but I couldn't exactly tell her off every time her remarks got on my nerves—she was my superior. This obviously aggravated me to no end, and she knew this as well.

"Here is all of the information that you're going to need."

She handed me two folders, keeping one specifically located on her lap. I hope she wasn't thinking I was going to try and go for that childish trick—I would wait until she decided to give it to me.

I opened them simultaneously, glancing at the faces on the sheets of starch white paper. A girl and a boy, both different ages but both were working for the same company, the same reason.

The girl could have been my twin despite the blue eyes, her hair swiftly cut into a fashion that would stand out in this area. The boy was intimidating, not just his muscles and weight proved this fact. I traced over their names and birth dates, their schedules, anything that could be of use to what I really needed to know.

Once I had finished, I waited impatiently for the last folder. Tanya smiled what I assumed was supposed to be a seductive leer, but came off looking an awful like an animal eyeing it's prey and scared the crap out of me. Tentatively smiling back, trying to be nice for once but only as a ploy to get what I wanted, I held my hand out for the information she held.

Pleased that she had gotten a response out of me, she stretched across the aisle as the limo pulled through rather large gates and bumped over the speed bump. It was obvious that Tanya was leaning too far over, giving me full exposure to the kind of bra that she was wearing, but I didn't notice as I eagerly took the folder and opened it quickly.

The girl was impossibly beautiful, though she shied away when the picture was being taken. Her long, luscious hair fell in limp waves past her shoulders, accenting her deep brown eyes. She had pale skin, but it was flushed with color at her embarrassment, and I chuckled humorously, causing Tanya's eyes to sharply scrutinize my face.

Making my expression blank, I looked back at the pertinent information.

Isabella Marie Swan.

Born September 13, 1992.

Parents Renee Dwyer and Charlie Swan, divorced three months after birth of subject in question…

Instated into CIA October 25, 2003.

I could have read further into it, her weight, height, likes, dislikes, everything, but Tanya's attempt at a cough to divert my attention worked, and I reluctantly closed the folder, putting it inside my rather large jacket pocket as the car rolled up to the curb. Already students were craning their necks for a better view of the occupants and staring at the luxurious vehicle.

I rolled my eyes.

"Ostentatious much?" I mumbled sarcastically as I went to open the door, pulling my bag over my shoulder. Tanya's cackle made me jump and narrow my eyes in surprise. God help whatever man wanted to marry that.

"Sorry, it was the only car that they could offer that wasn't too overboard," she replied.

I grimaced at the thought that maybe I could have gotten here in a nice Volvo. That wasn't too revealing and yet I had the impression that Tanya had specifically wanted us to come here in a limo. Maybe because she thought it was my idea of romantic? Yeah, right. I scoffed internally.

I opened the door to get away from her only to be met by glaring sunlight. I immediately lifted a hand to shield my eyes as I folded my sunglasses onto the bridge of my nose, able to really look around for the first time.

Students milled about on the lawn, obviously having nothing important to do. They stared, as I knew they would, the girls gawking wordlessly as I pulled my luggage out of the trunk and the car swiftly drove away with a screech of tires. I made my way up the walkway, reveling in the nicely cut lawns and the intricately cut stone of the buildings. I glanced at the map in my hands and finally reached a walkway with a sign pointing toward the boys' dormitories. I smirked, strutting up the sidewalk and pushing open the doors only to be hit by a refreshing circulation of cool air.

My information sheet told me that I was on the third floor in room 210 B. Pushing the elevator button, I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for it to come down.

Once inside, I pressed the button for my floor, but someone's voice caught my attention.

"Wait! Hold the door, please!" They shouted.

I put my hand between the closing doors, pressing them back open and they obliged as a blond boy about a head taller than me grinned appreciatively.

"Thanks man," he added, out of breath.

I nodded, letting the doors close. He pressed for floor five, and he looked back at me, sizing me up. I was sure that he was a bit suspicious since I still hadn't taken off my sunglasses.

"Hey, I'm Mike Newton. Are you new? I've never seen you around campus before," he said, probably trying to make small talk. I immediately frowned. Conversation wasn't something I kept well on my end. I observed and absorbed, something any spy would be proud to accomplish on a regular day. It was why I was in this business.

"Yes. Edward Cullen," I replied, trying not to give too much away, but not trying to make a nuisance of myself and start gossip on the first day here. I didn't need a reputation already, though I was sure that girls were to gossip.

He nodded his head at well, accepting that I wasn't as social as he seemed to be. I almost sighed in relief as my floor opened up and I gracefully made my way away from the boy.

"See ya around man," he called casually as the doors shut.

Yeah, right. With my schedule, I might not even have time to go to sleep with everything that I needed to get done in the time allowed.

I looked at the first number on the floor, a gold plated sign plastered right on the door. 199.

Looking left to right, I finally spotted my room and grasped for the key inside my bag. As soon as I found it, and slid it into the lock, a very loud and obtrusive voice sounded from down the hallway.

"Hey! Do you know where the bathroom is in this joint?"

I smoothly turned to find one of the very subjects of my mission glancing at me as he looked up and down the long hall. It was obvious that the guy—Emmett, I recalled—needed to use the restroom; badly.

"No, I just got here," I replied in an offhand tone, stepping into the bedroom so that he wouldn't recognize me. I was pretty sure that everyone of the agents I had surveyed today had gotten files on me as well and that if I didn't remain low, then it was going to be a sure-fire way to immediately lose this unending battle.

"Thanks anyways," he called out as I shut the door with a snap.

Once inside, I leaned my back against it and sighed, finally taking off the glasses and rubbing a hand over my face. I was so tired. I needed sleep, but I knew that I had to go out and find the other two agents before I could do anything. I had already noticed what room number Emmett was in, simply because it was open and it was hard not to miss the bright gold lettering.

Settling my luggage onto one of the beds, I frowned as I realized I was going to have a roommate. This was going to be complicated.

But instead of mulling over ways of trying to get a room by myself—which I already knew was pretty slim—I grabbed my key and my small backpack, walking back out the door and down the hallway.

I vaguely realized that I wasn't wearing the school uniform as the Newton kid had been, but then glancing out the window of the hallway, I noticed that most of the kids weren't. Mike must've been a goody-goody boy, intent on doing well and being a teacher's pet.

The elevator was there already and before I knew it, I was walking across campus in search of the girls' dormitories. My simple strategy if anyone caught me was that I was lost. It was a simple enough explanation, considering that I was new anyways and if I ran into any of the other operatives, at least they would know that I knew about them.

Sometimes I wished I was normal.

I didn't like the way I had to use all of my senses to analyze everything around me. I could tell anyone who asked me the license plate number of the car that had just passed, how many windows from the left my bedroom was, the number of girls that had their cell phones out and were texting; I could even tell who was winning chess on a park bench about fifty feet away from me.

I hated that I knew all of this.

So as I finally reached the building where too many girls were giggling and staring at me unabashedly, I sighed, turning to a girl two feet away from me and asking her in a low, seductive voice, "Excuse me, could you tell me where the cafeteria is?"

It was so easy to get under a girl's skin. I simply had to smile at them, stare a little more intensely than normal, and I already knew whatever I needed to know.

This girl was sort of pretty, her glasses framing her square jaw and freckles danced across her nose and cheeks, splaying out to her hair. She gasped as I turned to look at her, and gawked before she stuttered, looking over at her friend for assistance.

"Um…y-yeah, i-it's just down this pathway and then to your left, right inside that building," she added, a little breathlessly.

I gave her the best smile I could conjure up and she nearly fainted. Her friend returned the smile politely and then starting snapping her fingers in front of her friend's face.

Like I said, it was too easy.

But before I headed to the cafeteria—I really was hungry—I surveyed the girls around me, one more time.

I hadn't really needed directions; I had memorized the map completely already, but I needed to stall so that I could secure a glance of every girl around me before I started there.

So far, I hadn't noticed the other operatives, Isabella and Mary Alice. As far as I was concerned, they were just getting settled into their rooms, but in Isabella's case, I figured she was currently being debriefed, considering her file told me that she had been going to this school since she was eleven.

There was a separate sector of the academy that was meant for middle school students, and then there was our sector. The high school students relatively kept away from the younger kids, but I could see a few brothers and sisters helping their younger siblings around the campus, reassuring them that they wouldn't get lost.

It was all so unfamiliar—I'd never really had a true family. My father had left when I was a baby, though my mother could never tell me why. I remembered the last time I saw her, such sadness coursing through her as I explained where I was going and why.

She had already been sworn to secrecy, but I had a feeling that none of that was too much of a problem with my mother. I just couldn't figure out why she had seemed so opposed to the idea of me becoming an agent—but I guessed that I would never find out.

I hadn't noticed that I was staring at the ground, walking, until I looked up and saw her. She was coming out of another building, her head up, looking around while she had a hand protectively located on her saddle bag.

She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt advertising a band unknown to me. She looked so average that it was hard to believe this was the girl that was going to oppose me in getting what my company wanted.

Just then, she looked up and met my gaze, her chocolate brown eyes hardening as her stare turned icy. But even deep beneath the hard exterior, I could see the secrets that she kept, and I knew-- even if I hadn't seen her picture-- that this girl was an operative. I could swear her chin lifted a bit higher, just as my heart went into palpitations.

I walked out of Carlisle's office, sure that I would be able to get over that fact…the simple fact that I was going to have to charm his son—under his watch, which was even more embarrassing. I was sure that every time I would be near him, he would be watching, gazing at his son and wishing that he could go to him.

It saddened me to know that he would be depriving himself of a reunion, but apparently something more important was at stake here; something that I still didn't know about, but the other agents did.

Right now, I was supposed to go to Rosalie and tell her what was going on and pass along the files. But when I looked around, searching for the other agents to see if they were around, I spotted him.

His copper/maroon hair stood out immediately, making me do a double-take and look at him more closely. He was staring intently at me, and I almost shivered at the feelings that resonated deep inside me. But I shook it off, remembering that he was just as trained—if not, even more so—as I was. My breath caught and I watched him as he looked me up and down before the most dazzling smile appeared on his face.

I couldn't remember why I couldn't like him.

I couldn't remember what his name was.

I couldn't remember what my name was.

Then he was walking toward me, and I regained my composure. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, information flooding my mind as I eagerly assessed him.

His casual clothing didn't fool me, though he obviously didn't mind putting emphases on his body. His tightly fitted white shirt dignified his muscles, and I couldn't help but stare as that led to the loosely fitting jeans that hung right at his waist…

God, his body was so freaking hot.

I mentally smacked myself as he came ever closer and my breathing hitched as I realized this was going to be the first confrontation—we knew that each other knew. It was that simple, but it had to be conveyed anyways.

"Hello, I was wondering if you could direct me to the cafeteria," he said, his voice a low murmur that managed to sound dangerous and seductive at the same time.

I did shiver then, and he noticed, his mouth pulling up at the corners a little, his eyes mocking my attempt to defy his charm. It was then that I noticed I had frozen and tensed, and this was obviously not something that you do when you're supposed to be 'under cover'. Not that we both didn't know who each other was. That was the silliest part of this whole business.

"Of course," I replied smoothly, my carefully trained half already taken over as I observed where we were and what Edward was carrying, which camera was trained on us.

I furtively shot a look at it while I was making my assessment; sure that Carlisle would have gotten it.

"I'll take you there myself, actually. I'm starved," I lied.

He smiled again, flawless as ever but I studiously ignored it, walking toward a worn path off toward another building in the center of the academy.

"So you're new here, are you?" I questioned, working my voice to sound coy and uninterested, though I desperately wanted to get to know him.

And this was a bad, very bad thing, I chastised myself.

Stop it! He's your enemy, let alone your boss' son!

"Yes. I got very lost and ended up all the way near the girls' dormitories," he answered vaguely looking down on my pathetic height of five feet four inches. I too looked up at him, noticing the vivid green color that was so clearly displayed here, as well as his picture which was hidden away in my saddle bag right near my hand…

"Really."

"Mhhh," he murmured.

By now we were almost there, and I was still trying to think of ways to find out what he knew about the object he was supposed to retrieve.

"So why'd you transfer here?" I inquired in an offhand tone as if I didn't really care.

He immediately launched into what I knew would have been a very good story—if I didn't know that it was fake.

"Well, my mother decided that my old school was too restraining on my knowledge, and decided to transfer me here where I could have a better education." His eyes glistened with amusement as he watched my reaction.

Of course there wasn't one, which I was sure displeased him.

"Interesting," I whispered.

Then the building was upon us, and I perked up at the smell of burritos wafting through the open doors.

"Here it is," I said, a little excited now that I had actually worked up an appetite.

This seemed to amuse him to no end.

"So it is," he replied, holding open the door for me as I walked ahead of him, managing to not lose him in my peripheral vision. He was so graceful, each of his steps seeming like a dance movement instead of walking. I snorted at this thought, causing him to look at me curiously. I shook my head, telling him that it was nothing he should be concerned about.

I turned down the hallway, immediately getting myself in line with the other students who had their meal cards out already—it was more like college here not a boarding school for high school students. Edward looked perplexed when he finally figured out that he needed that tiny card.

"Don't worry about it, I'll pay for you," I told him happily. Maybe this wouldn't be such a hard mission after all. I could keep him amused and entertained whilst I worked to keep the others off the scent of whatever was hidden on campus.

"That's all right, I have my ways…" He eyed the cashier furtively as I stepped forward and she swiped my card with a yawn. I waited for him on the other side of the railing, wondering what he was going to do.

He leaned forward, murmuring gently to the old woman whose eyes almost bugged out of their sockets and I saw him give her a little wink. Awed, I watched as she waved him through, looking thoroughly dazed as she swiped the next students card.

"What did you say to her?" I whispered, wondering why I couldn't do that, even to a sixteen year old guy. He shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. I, like the woman he had just thoroughly bewitched, looked at him again seeing the true beauty that lay there--but then remembered that he simply used that to his advantage.

"Wonder if you'd ever tell me your secrets," I mumbled, mostly to myself out of sarcasm of the irony of the situation. But he heard me, and his head whipped around as he gazed so intently at me, so seriously, I felt winded without even moving. As I continued to stare at him--he, contemplating; I, hyperventilating--his smile fell and he answered me, though I hadn't asked him a direct question.

"Definitely." Then he quirked his head to the side, and a sly grin appeared on his face. "Maybe."

I shook my head and walked past him as he smirked at me. Rule one of being a spy: Never underestimate your opponent.

--

I will have another chapter up soon, I'm debating whether I want it to be Emmett and Rosalie POV. Don't worry, Jasper /is/ involved in the story, you'll just have to wait for him to appear.

(: