a/n: well, here's another chapter!

DISCLAIMER: i own absolutely nothing, aside from the plot.


The van ride back to the hideout was long, and uneventful. Jade said nothing to Beckett as he hung his head, murmuring the same words, words she couldn't read, over and over again. It intrigued Jade, but at the same time, angered her beyond explanation. She reached back into her trench coat, pulling out the gun, and smacking him over the head with it. Scarlet bloomed from the gash on the back of his head, hidden by his long, dark hair. He yelled out in pain, jumping away from her, and instantly grasping onto the back of his head. He cursed silently, taking his palm off of the wound to see that the blood now stained his fingers. He looked up, his glare filled with spite and hatred as he bitterly snapped, "What the fuck was that for?"

"Well, Oliver," she bothered not to call him by his first name, leaning against the doors and studying her bitten-down nails in a bored manner, "I couldn't understand what you were saying, and that angered me."

"You have serious issues!" Beckett hissed, trying to appear calm, holding his head in his hands once more.

At this, Jade only smirked, shook her head, brown locks flying gracefully, and uttered in return, "Oh, sweet, little Oliver, you don't have a clue."

His face contorted into - what was that? Disdain? Disgust? And why did she even care?

"I hate you," he spat, his tone low, surprisingly calm, but his eyes held his anger. The swirls of chocolate had a certain fire, that scared Jade, but, at the same time, attracted her, almost like a magnet. It was undeniable, how he made her feel fear, and desire at the same time. All though, she'd never admit it out loud.

"Oh, Oliver," Jade laughed, ignoring her feelings and the thoughts swirling in her head, twirling her gun in her hands and continuing to rock her head from side to side, "You hardly even know me."

"I know enough!" he shouted, and Jade suppressed a flinch at his sudden reaction, "You're a horrible person. You don't deserve to live, all you do is take, take, take, take lives. Take something that you can never get back. Never."

She raised a silent, and suspicious eyebrow, before murmuring under her breath, knowing just what button to push and card to play, "Abha Catherine Oliver, formerly Abha Catherine Delji. Born July 16, 1972, at 6:02 in the morning. Killed September 19, 2001, 9:17 at night. Was driving at 80 miles per hour, when she spotted a Yorkshire terrier less then fifty feet away. As I have read, she was a dog lover. She swerved and missed the dog, but unfortunately, swerved right into a 20 foot high, 50 pound metal pole, with a brightly lit light bulb. It could not withhold the weight of the car, so it topped over, through the sunroof. The windshields and left side window was broken, and the remainder was cracked, as well as the light bulb that had shut off in the commotion. She died on impact of the crushing. Her demise was painless," she paused, and looked directly at him, "Did I take her life, Oliver?"

She saw his expression go blank, and him advert his eyes in pain, or embarrassment, she wasn't quite sure. He asked, voice dangerously quiet, "How did you know?"

"I'm an assassin, Oliver. I do my own goddamn research."

"Stop calling me that!" he shouted, catching Jade off guard. She looked at him, her eyes slighter wider, but they returned to their normal size within an instant. He breathed in through his nose, out his mouth, then whispered, "Stop calling me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want to call you!" she suddenly yelled, pointing her gun at him, finger on the trigger, "I give the orders around here, kid!"

"Kid?" he gave a humorless laugh, shaking his head, "I can handle myself, I'm no kid."

"Shut the hell up!"

"Or what?"

"Or," she gulped - why was she hesitating? She should've blown his brains out, but her heart clenched at the thought of seeing his beautiful brown eyes close, forever, "Or I-I'll shoot you!"

He gave a smirk, too cocky for his own good, as he laughed again, bitter, and cold, "You won't shoot me. You can't. Your hands are shaking. What are you, scared? Some assassin you are."

She looked down, and, sure enough, her hands were quivering. What was her problem? She was trained to kill, why was he any different?

"Damn you," she angrily spat after a few moments of silence, shoving the weapon back into her trench coat and yelling, "I can kill you if I want, but I'm not giving up this ransom, your father won't pay as much if I kill you!"

He just turned away from her, staring at the blank walls in triumph. She tightened her fists, the skin on her knuckles glowing white with her fury.

"Beck."

"What?" she asked, her gaze snapping in his direction.

"My name's Beck. Not Oliver."

"I already knew that, you dumbass!" Jade hissed, before crossing her arms over her chest.

"And you?"

"What do you mean, 'And you?'" she mimicked, mocking his every word. The corner of his mouth turned up at her anger. She felt her cheeks become warmer . . . was she blushing?

"What's your name?"

She paused, almost saying, 'I don't know.' But giving in, she replied, "Jade."

"It suits you."

She glared at him intently, before Sinjin knocked on the glass window that separated them. They had arrived.


a/n: so, i know it may be a little bit rushed, but i wanted to show how jade is already affected by his presence. because, after all, she's never handled taking an attractive boy her own age captive. i know it may be a bit OOC, but i'm doing the best i can.

so, R&R?