With a Flair of Drama

By Aspirator

Disclaimer: GA is not mine. Story is mine.

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"Julia," the name slipped out of her lips naturally, as if she'd been saying it her whole life.

"American, really?" The man with the charming smile, those soft blond locks swaying with the tilt of his head.

She only smiled demurely back at him.

After gulping his drink down, in which she looked around as if hinting to him that she was looking at her other options. He turned to address her again. "That's not your real name, is it?" He blinks innocently at her, pushing his glass aside to make space for his elbow, scooting closer territorially.

"No," Mikan smiled innocently back, "I'm on vacation, in Vienna." As if to make her point, she paused to take a long sip from her glass, "flirting with a Austrian. Anonymity is sexy."

"Anonymity?" He questioned, "I hardly think we could call ourselves strangers at this point."

Are we? Mikan, used to the acts and pretenses of her occupation, sends him a smoldering smile - albeit uncertain. She taps her finger on her glass for a brief second, seeming to make a decision, then turns fully to face him. "We haven't met, have we?" At his affronted look, she quickly added, "I would remember a face like yours."

"Yes," the man recovers his charming smile, but his voice drops threateningly. "You're quite right, Mikan Sakura. You would remember a face like mine."

In a flash, Mikan was on her feet - but not fast enough. She clutched her neck, fingering the small needle that pierced her skin. Grasping wildly at the bar counter, she struggled in vain to stay upright. But her vision only blurred into darkness.


"There's a reason why you never put me out on the field. I hate it." Came Hotaru's grumble through the earpiece, a little change of hearing for Sumire who is used to her best technician standing right next to her.

"Well," Sumire drawled sweetly, and Koko winced knowing her 'calm before the storm' voice. "TWO OF MY BEST AGENTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN AND I KNOW THEY'RE BEING TORTURED. ONE OF WHICH - THAT'S OUR FAVORITE DEATH-MAGNET, BLACK CAT - COULD BE DEAD BY NOW FOR ALL WE KNOW. HE HAS BEEN OFFLINE FOR A MONTH, A MONTH- AND NOW YOUR BEST FRIEND FALLS UNDER THE SAME FATE - SO TELL ME-"

"I got them." Hotaru, ever the bold, cut in. It did sound a little too quickly, even for the ever infallible Imai - probably an effect of the dangerous pitch their handler's voice was rising towards.

Their handler released a long breath containing a few obscenities before responding calmly, "And?"

"They're in Vienna."

"Good," Sumire did not sound satisfied at all, "that narrows it down to A WHOLE CITY!"

"You know the earpieces can pick up even the smallest whispers?"

Sumire sucked in her breath, ready to give the technician a piece of her mind -

"Right, that's a fun fact," Koko cut in with a nervous laugh of the uh-ha-ha-ha kind, glancing around quickly for ice, water, towel, anything. "Our two agents at crisis, Hotaru? Can we focus, here?"

"I would if I -"

"Not helping!" Koko hurriedly hissed.

A long suffering sigh reached their eyes, causing Sumire to roll her eyes.

After a moment of silence - or peace, in Koko's case - Hotaru's voice piped up again. Nonchalantly, she stated, "I don't understand what all the fuss is about, they obviously can escape on their own. What'd we train them for?"

Koko ran off in search of ice, definitely ice.

Sumire let out a growl that could send tremors down Russian generals, "Hotaru Imai."


Mikan dodged the sharp instruments that were meant to be used to torture her, and threw her legs out to wrap around her much larger opponent. With a grunt, and another evasion of sharp multifaceted blades, there was a resounding snap! and her opponent was no longer anything to worry about.

She stood up with a huff, wincing at the muscular strain on her body. Waking up from a dose of forced unconsciousness does not do good things to your body. She glanced up to meet gazes with sharp scarlet orbs. She nodded in acknowledgment.

He elbowed the last remaining guard, who fell to the ground in a heap, then stomped on his neck. Without so much as a word, Natsume limped towards and past her to the exit.

"That's it?" Mikan frowned, slowing her pace as she stood in a much better physical condition than he was in, "not even a 'thank you'? They didn't get to your brain, right? You have been held in here and tortured for four weeks, you know?"

Natsume glanced back at her wearily, gazing shifting up and down to take her whole figure in. "Bar?"

"Excuse me?" Mikan huffed, affronted.

"Of course," he uttered with a roll of his eyes. "Only thing you know how to do is seduce men."

"Excuse me!" The female agent stomped her foot in mixed frustration, gesturing her arms wildly towards the pile of unconscious bodies they had left behind, "I just rescued your sorry behind - and that was twenty men! You have a broken rib! And a leg! And right now, you wanna talk about the BAR?!"

At that, he whirled around - all bruises and no shirt and black eye and bleeding and all - to stare down at her. Barely an inch away from her own face.

Their heavy breathing filled the darkened and empty hallway, illuminated only by ominous yellow lights placed sparingly.

"We didn't get past names." Mikan felt compelled to whisper lowly. "Not even the lips."

Intense scarlet eyes searched her, as if picking her apart.

With a huff, Mikan dragged out slowly, "He didn't touch me."

"Fine." Then he whirled around and limped out onto broad daylight. As if that made sense and it was the end of discussion (it didn't and it isn't).

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"...I said no helicopters, no high speed car chases, no skyscrapers, no rooftops and balconies. Yet, here we bloody are, in the medical bay." Sumire's was in full lecture mode as soon as she made certain her agents were alive and well onto a speedy recovery.

"So bring back the helicopters." Natsume shrugged, waving off another nurse's attempt at patching him up.

The boss scoffed, "I don't plan these missions for you to satisfy your masochistic need for a dramatic exit."

"You think you don't."