White walked slowly towards his home, a light slump to his normally brisk pace. His ice blue eyes were narrow, and to anyone else he would appear on the verge of death, but white could tell, with no small amount of bitterness, that he was very much alive. A fact that shouldn't be. No. Not if the other spy was worth the metal of his gun. "That bastard..." he hissed between his teeth, spitting bloody saliva onto the cold cement beneath his previously white, now mud encrusted boots.

It had been a mission just like any other. Find black- kill black- take the top secret file from black. A perfectly average day; ruined. Because apparently, the other didn't get the same to the dot memo as usual. Black Had a clear shot. Hot metal poised perfectly at whites head. But instead? Oh, instead, the idiot missed. Choosing to half crack the paler Spies skull open with the butt of the gun instead. White glared, finally gripping the knob of his door, he shoved it open. Entering, he kicked away his shoes, and tossed his jacket towards the floor. Making as though to sit down, he froze when a pressure met his lower back. The familiar tip of a familiar weapon.

"You're getting careless, White."

Said agent shuddered, not bothering to turn. he knew that voice better than anyone else... which was odd, seeing as they had only spoken maybe a few words at each other, nearly all obscenities. But there it was. Deep, dark, and toned with just the slightest Cuban accent. "What? regret not finishing the job right the first time?" White scoffed, a cocky sneer on his face. When the other only responded by shifting the gun up, White almost thought things would return to their normal pattern... then black dropped his gun. White spun aroud, without a second of hesitation, a knife pressed against Blacks throat. Blue narrowed in distrust as the black agent held up his gloved hands, a neutral expression on his face.

"...What the fuck are you planning now, Black?" White hissed, far too close to the black agent for his own comfort.

"Now White..." Black drawled, his hand raising to touch the white agents cheeks lightly. "What fun would it be it I told you?"

the white agent froze at the awkwardly gentle touch. His free hand flying to grip blacks collar, he pinned the agent to the wall. "Don't FUCK with me."

"But White...we are not fuckin'..." the words were said so casualy that for an instant, white loosened his grip on the knife. Within that instant, Black freed himself. White could believe, but what he couldn't grasp was the sound of breaking glass as the weopon was thrown away from them, making contact with- and shattering- and perfectly good vase.

White jumped back, trying to create distance, but it only took a second for black to be on him again, just an inch away as he gripped at the light agents jacket. they tumbled to the ground, wrestling until both looked as bruised and bloody as white had upon entering. At some point, white regained the knife, and Black finally gained the sense to draw his own. so there they stood, perfect mirror images of one another with knives at eachothers throat.

"If we keep dying together like this, I'm going to start calling you 'Juliet'." Black smirked, Whites frown deepened. "Pretty damn accurate. Juliet would live if it wasn't for her God damned Romeo."

Black sniggered, pressing his knife a bit harder, which white imitated. "They were equally to blame. If she hadn't loved him back, he would have just found himself another bitch." A sudden jerking motion against White's knife caused Black to flinch, jumping back to clutch his newly bleeding collarbone. "...Why didn't you go for the kill?" Black said in a angry voice. White just stared at him, eyes lost. "...Why didn't you?"

And... for the first time in their history together... They both lowered their weapond and simply...looked at each other. Black was the first to speak. His voice questioning, as though he himself wasn't sure of what he was saying. "Maybe I'm sick of being Romeo."

White didn't know how to respond. His expression scrunching. "That...makes no sense. We aren't star-crossed lovers, Black. we're-" his words died there. Blacks eyes...or a split second. They changed...it had only been for a breathes time, in those dark, nearly black eyes, there had been...something. Something soft. Something...sad? He didn't have time to place it. Because as it left, a ridged, scowling look took up place. Before he could regain his guard, a fist contacted his forehead, sending him to the ground, gasping as stars danced around him.

By the time his head stopped swimming, Black was leaving the house, a safe tucked under his arm. "Thats twice now...you've let yourself fall so easily. I wonder why such a good agent can't see whats in front of him." Black cut at him with his voice as he exited. The door slammed hard behind him.

"such a good agent...? the nicest words you've ever said to me, and they are an insult." He laughed emptily at this, though his chest clutched slightly, his brows furrowed in wonder. "Romeo, huh." he sighed, sitting up. his hands fished into his pocket as he stood, his thumb rubbed a small silver box lightly, clicking it open, he stared at it quietly. His index finger came down on the little red button. From where he stood, he could hear an explosion. Large enough to blow up a safe and its contents, but not large enough to level a neighborhood. As he walked to his window, he watched as bits of black material danced among embers in the night air. "Romeo, romeo..." He smirked, turning away from the sight.

"Let's see how it plays out. When your Juliet can't die."