A/n: So this is my first story. I've been getting into way too much crime & adventure & spy shit lately. Oh what a nerd.
Well I got the idea for this story when I was watching D.E.B.S. and I laid my eyes on Lucy Diamond (aka Jordana Brewster) who I don't even know the fuck why, but reminded me of an older version of what I think Mitchie would be like. Just not as hot. But she's got the whole tan and flawless jawline going on, so yeahz.
This story is almost as gay as me, continue as you wish...
Warning: Swearing, criminal scenarios, da shiiitttt.
Mitchie/Alex all da way baby.
Motchie's POV
"Mitchie Torres tops the list of FBI's most wanted: 2013..."
"Score!" I yelled as I pumped a fist in the air, eyeing the plasma TV set in front of me - with none other than yours truly featured as the breaking news of the hour.
"...Torres becomes the first ex-marine of the century to appear on the FBI's most wanted list. Under investigation for case upon case of rape..."
"Pshh! Rape? Who the hell...? I'm a fucking lady!" I screamed at the TV screen although I knew the anchorman reporting on the other side of the fuzzy screen was far from hearing my rant. "God, the shit people make up these days" I muttered through clenched teeth as I flipped out my pocket knife and threw the sharp piece of metal towards the screen, blade landing right in the center of the reporter's face before the TV scattered into millions of tiny glass particles. Always had the best aim from the beginning of training... to the end I shrugged off the thoughts of my ex-military career and made my way over to what I like to call 'The Black Hole' (in reality, it was just another name for my big-ass closet filled with hundreds of different leather suits and outfits that I wear out on my little 'escapades'. Yeah, I attempt to make fun of inanimate structures okay?) I fished through before grabbing ahold of my favorite all-black bodysuit, head to toe darkness snug on my body. That's the shit I like. After I slipped into my outfit I dialed up my henchmen (Yes, fucking henchmen. One's name is even Igor. Bow down bitches) and told them to be over with the 'Mitchiemobile' (really, a personalized replica of the batmobile) in ten minutes flat.
I like batman, the fuck outta here if you don't.
Anyways... my team arrived two minutes early, no surprise to me because they knew the consequences if they were late. Mitchie no likey waiting. Mitchie is not patient, tú comprendes? I shoved Igor out of the front seat as he addressed me with "Good evening, master Mitchie". Hmm... Master Mitchie. I liked the sound of that one. Gotta note that down for later. Shit ADHD... focus on the mission Mitch. I shook out my head as I scoffed at the little dude and plopped down in front of the steering wheel, grabbing a hold of it and flooring the gas, bolting out of my lair (fuck.. I watch too many Dr. Evil movies) and onto the bustling roads of the Big Apple. I hadn't exactly come up with a plan, all I knew is I wanted to cause some trouble and at least add some excitement to my so far boring night. "Let's rob a bank" I said to my henchmen as they just nodded in agreement and shrugged, not like that had much of a choice. No one protests the mastermind ideas of Mitchie Torres. Ain't nobody got time fo dat.
We pulled up to the museum at the strike of midnight, greeted by a deserted parking lot and two off-task night guards blocking the glass door entrance to the museum. I scoffed as I let out a "Damn, this job is just too easy", before turning to climb to the back of my Mitchiemobile and select my choice weapons of the hour. I settled on a laser pen and pistol. Not like i'd be needing them in the first place. I could kill any living creature with my hands alone in seventy different ways. Props to military boot camp for that one. As soon as I had secured the laser pen to my belt and stuffed the pistol down my bra, I turned to face my team and lay out the mission. "Alright ladies" the men all shot death glares at me, only to be shot down just as fast by an intense gaze of my own. No one wins a stare off with Mitchie. "We're heading in through the front, I'll take care of the two sleeping goons" I pitched as I gestured to the slacking guards fallen in a deep slumber, one using the other as a mattress "While you guys head inside, grab whatever you want. But do not touch my snake. Got it?" I spat out as they all bobbed their heads in agreement. They knew what I meant by 'my snake'. It was the one prized possession (well, besides love) that I had not yet laid my hands on, over $3 billion in net worth, it was a beautifully carved out Black Serpent Diamond. My three favorite things (the color black, snakes and diamonds) combined in one delicate gem? Yes please. Rumor has it (Oh dayum, Adele is my jam yo) that it was created hundreds of thousands of years ago, hand crafted in a massive - one of a kind - black diamond found on the outskirts of Tutankhamen, Egypt. A small desert tribe-city once ruled by the almighty King Tut. In fact, it was rumored to be carved by the king of the cobras himself, lost in the scorching hot desert sands for years, until one day a peasant stumbled across it, eventually getting a hold of archeologists and museums around the globe and gladly accepting the billion dollar offer in exchange for this ancient display. Fuck, I sound like a dictionary or some shit. Fuck number two, I forgot to take my pills. Fuck number three, ADHD can suck my non-existent balls.
Where was I? Right, about to rob a museum. Focus, Master Mitchie. But focus, I cannot (okay, need to cut down on the star wars too). Alright, climbing up the steps now... ohhh now's the time to take out the guards. Gotcha, back on track. The sleeping morons didn't seem to notice my presence, but I couldn't just let them have a peaceful nap while I went to work, oh no. I needed some entertainment too, stealing without a challenge gets boring after awhile. I somehow managed to get the bright idea of grabbing ahold of one of their nearby blowhorns (The fuck? what kind of a guard uses a blowhorn as a weapon? "Stop right there, or i'm gonna blast your hearing!" Ooh, scary.) and putting it up against one guard's ear, positioning the dead-asleep body so that it'd be the perfect shock to the other guy once he was awaken. I placed a finger on the horn as it let out a loud blare, alarming both guards as they jolted awake, crashing into one another in the process, knocking each other out instantaneously. I stood there snickering at the sight before mumbling "Piece of cake" and dropping their little 'weapon' before making my way through the double doors and closer to the jackpot. I wandered aimlessly through the long, polished halls. Observing the different attractions before eventually getting bored and taking a few turns here or there before ending up at the one spot I needed to be, the Egyptian exhibit. The second I fixated my sexy ass leather boot on the replica stone floor, I sensed a presence. I'd been in the field way too fucking long not to realize when I was and wasn't alone, and in that split second I knew I wasn't alone. A smirk crossed my lips as I resumed my usual cocky look and continued strutting down the eerily decorated ancient hallway. I'd been watching every little breath the unsubtle spy had been taking through my peripheral vision, unfazed as I went on with my mission. God, some 'heros' these days, I mean like you wouldn't expect me to see you planted to the ceiling by your little plastic suction cups? Bitch, leave. I confinuted forward until one particular static sound coming out of the agent's walkie talkie set me off, as static is one of the few things I can't stand. In that split second I whipped out my gun and shot at the target. Note, I shot at the target, not at the target. Just got a little up in the hero's personal space. I must admit, I have slight anger issues, and that's when I pull out my weapons, but I mean the figure was fucking creeping on me - you expect me not to be angry? "Fuck!" the agent let out as he/she (still hadn't figured it out yet - boy or girl - they all look the same to me from afar) came tumbling down the whole 20 feet. Note the sarcasm. I knew the drop wouldn't kill the figure, just bruise 'em up a bit, but I figured I was feeling good after how easy this mission had been, and with a quick roll of the eyes I made my way over to the falling person and extended my arms.
Alex's POV
She's heard me! Was all that crossed my mind the second I felt my electronic transmission device (Psh, 'electronic transmission device'. Riigghhttt, more like a high tech name for walkie talkie) go off, quickly silencing it, but not quickly enough. I noticed her slightly twitch before an even bigger smirk graced her devilish features, I'm gonna knock that fucking smirk off of your face the second I get dow- "Fuck!" I screamed as I zoned back in to the situation, noticing a pistol planted firmly in the palms of her bruised, battered, taped up hands - aimed directly in my direction. I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the pellets zip through the thin air, fully prepared for a hit. Instead, I felt the residue of a crumbling ceiling before I realized that none other than Miss FBI's Most Wanted had shot around me, not at me per say. My eyes fluttered open as I attempted to clutch onto my suction cups previously mounted to the ceiling, ultimately failing and tumbling down towards the rock hard ground and... Mitchie Torres? I felt my body collide against hers, yet she remained stiff and unflustered. I let myself relax in her hold for a second, her toned muscles mixed with her deep brown orbs churning with emotion leading me to melt into the girl. I shook the thoughts as I snapped back into it and hopped out of her embrace (Oh please, you wish it was an embrace. It was just a firm full-body grip. That is all), drawing my gun and aiming for the center of her flawless forehead (Wow, I didn't realize forehead's could be flawless) as she mimicked my actions. I stood there, firm yet demolished on the inside simply from her sharp gaze. Oh God, the rumors are true, she really is devilishly stunning. Undeniable beauty shining through her golden face, yet a scar sliced across her eye just adding the right balance of badass-ness to qualify as devilish. Although it pained me to know I wouldn't be able to share the fact, as anyone who had ever come face-to-face with Michie Torres never lived to tell the tale. Shit, where are my girls when I need them? An unmistakable click of a gun jolted me out of my thoughts, as I matched her stare with just as much intensity.
Mitchie's POV
She's a girl. And a sexy one at that. I mean damn, those midnight eyes captivated me the second I met her gaze. I took the time to scan the body of the fallen agent, tight in my arms. Warning: Curves Ahead!
A minute late after praising Jesus, Allah, Messiah and any other religious figure for this girl's figure.
I fixated my gaze back onto her face as I noticed her eyes widen, hopping out of my arms in the process. I felt a small frown slip out, but covered it up quickly as I raised my pistol to her forehead, cocking the gun and ready to shoot if necessary. If necessary... the fuck Mitch? C'mon you kill people on the spot weather necessary or not. Yeah but she's different. My inner deamons battled against each other as I continued to stand there, staring at the agent and her gun shoved up against my forehead. It finally dawned on me that this was no ordinary agent, this was a SAL (Secret Agent Lady. Forever mentally slapping with whoever came up with that name with my non-existant lady dick. I mean holy hell it's gayer than me).
"Y-You're Mitchie Torres" she said through a stutter oof that's adorable.
"You're a SAL" I spat back out in reply, pushing the barrel of my gun farther into her head.
She narrowed her eyes before regaining composure and breaking the silence once more "You have the right to remain silent-"
"You're reading me my rights?" I interrupted as she only deepened her gaze and continued on. Damn, I have to say, her attempt at dominance is sexy.
"Anything you say can, and will be used against you." I narrowed my eyes and set my jaw as she mimicked my actions, still caught deep in each others stare. "Okay, here's the thing..." she spoke up as I nodded my head, giving a silent 'ok' to continue "I am really not up for dying today".
"Me neither" I replied.
At first she tightened, then loosed her grip on the gun as she continued on "So, I was thinking, that uh... Why don't you put your gun down".
"Why don't you put your gun down?"
"You're the criminal, and i'm the cop. So I think i'm a technically more trustworthy" she replied as she caught her lips in between her teeth, clearly out of nerves - nothing more - yet I couldn't prevent my stare from getting drawn to those plump, glazed lips before snapping out of it and fixating my gaze on those dark as midnight eyes once more.
"Except for I was totally minding my own business, about to settle my hands on someone else's business, before you decided to go all spider-pig on me" I snapped back (Note number 103928241291 of the day, cut down on The Simpsons).
"It's kind of my job, you know... Bad guy commits a crime and Hero swoops in and saves the day."
I couldn't hold in my laugh at that remark, "More like Bad girl saves Hero's ass from a 20 foot drop." Mitchie Torres does not take sass without throwing it back in the other's face. Mhm no siree.
The SAL rolled her eyes before softening her gaze and lowering her gun, resting it at the side of dat bootyful ass. Dayum qurl how yo waist anorexic and yet yo ass is collossal... whoop "Ass Ass Ass".
She raised an eyebrow as she placed her hands (and gun) oh her hips before letting out an "Excuse me?"
My eyes widened as I realized what I had just unintentionally said (more like sang) to her face. I cleared my throat before attempting to cover my little slip-up "Uh..." Fuck Mitch, gotta tame that master brain of yours. You say too much shit out loud. Or you could just stop thinking about boning a SAL, that would work too. I decided it best to drop my gun at this point, in an attempt to distract and release some of the tension. "You do realize you're the first person that's ever held a conversation with me and will live to tell the tale, right?" I said, bringing back my usual cockiness and giving her the hint that I'll let her live.
"Well, uh, yeah... I guess. I mean, there's really no documented history in our files of a full-on conversation with you, which lead us to believe that you do get rid of everyone you come across with. But wow... I honestly didn't even know if you were real or not. Those mug shots do not do you justice" at that I noticed a furious blush fill her cheeks, was she flirting with me?
Alex's POV
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She's a criminal, you're a cop. She's a villain, you're a hero. You're sworn enemies - in no way shape or form should you be flirting! I'd been mentally slapping myself for the past minute until she decided to speak up. "Are you calling me hot?" she replied, with a smug look plastered onto her sexy scarred face.
"Um..." I answered, face surely a rose-red color by now. "Well it was really nice to meet you... but you're still, you know, under arrest." I stuttered, changing the subject and allowing a small smile to creep onto my lips.
"Am I?" she held a mock expression as she replied, voice laced with sarcasm.
"Alex!" I heard a fellow SAL yell out as I quickly glanced around before turning to face the criminal once more.
"Or you could just let me go" she replied, perfectly sculpted eyebrows shooting up and wiggling them. I couldn't contain my giggle at that point, for an evil mastermind, she sure had a sense of warmth emitting from her cold shell.
"I really couldn't."
"Come on, haven't you ever done anything you're not supposed to?" she let out, eyes piercing deep into my own.
"Alex! Where the hell are you?" the same SAL screamed, as I rolled my eyes in response, turning back to face FBI's Most Wanted.
"Go" I barely choked out as a face-eating smile broke out on her full, glossy lips. Oh how I'd love for some of that gloss to glaze my lips, applied via mouth to mouth, of course. I turned on my heel, heading for the exit and giving her a free pass for a reason I couldn't exactly muster, until I felt a cool hand grasp onto my own.
Warm shivers bolting through my body at the touch, I turned to face the criminal as she spoke up "I didn't catch your name".
"Alex. Alex Russo." I replied with a small smile, not revealing the full joy blossoming inside of me that the Mitchie Torres wanted to know my name. She's fucking evil! You shouldn't be happy that she wants to know your name! I inwardly groaned at the things this tanned criminal was doing to me.
"Well, i'm Mitchie. Mitchie Torres." she mimicked my tone with a smug look before I felt her cool hands leave mine, oddly craving for more of her touch. "But you already knew that" she said with a wink, before tossing a small piece of metal in the air, emitting sounds and a blinking red light before exploding and letting out a cloud of black smoke. I shut my eyes as I coughed and fanned the smoke away before reviving my vision and staring back at the spot where the criminal was a mere minute ago. I stood there flustered until I heard feet padding into the room and turned around to see the rest of my team, guns loaded and pointed in my direction.
"Alex!" the rest of the SAL girls let out as they came running to me, engulfing me in hugs. "Are you ok?" they asked simultaneously.
"Huh? Yeah, guys, I-I'm fine. I uh.. um... Torres ran off before I could make a move. She just tossed this smoke bomb in my face and disappeared the second I laid eyes on her" I replied, not wanting to bring up the full on details of my encounter with the rebel. Oh, how this was suiting up to be an interesting night.
so lyke Mitchie's da pimp and she makez all dem bitches panties drop
even da pure ones
well... dey don't stay pure for long ;)))
but don't forget she also makes dose people with the dang-a-langs... I think they be called men... yeah men, well dey bow down too.
everyone bows down.
even da reviewers.
which is what you should be doin ryte now. reviewin yo little ass off.
word g-man.