Some notes before we get started;

Ig481: Thanks for the reviews! :D

GearSolidSnake: Thank you for the advice. I'm aware of the characters OOC-ness and apologise, I was a bit too eager with my direction of thought and didn't really take it into full consideration at the time. Also, I'm still in the process of developing Castrilla's personality, so I'm having trouble making her a much more unique character, but I assure you that I'll have her fixed up soon. I'll find some time to update that first chapter to get it right, and I hope I can improve the fanfic for the future :)

And with that said, let's get this chapter rolling!


Darkness was all she met in the next new moments.

She felt her consciousness slowly creeping its way back to her, but she felt a pain filled ache at the side of her head, and her eyes felt like a ton of bricks to even lift up for a second. A slight tilt to the side of her head was all she managed, a frustrated groan escaping her as the pain shot up her body.

She may have not been able to see at the moment, but she definitely could hear. Voices in particular, unfamiliar ones.

"Subject is starting to wake up. We should be cautious and firm before proceeding." One rang; it sounded professional, smart, possibly some thought out genius or something.

"Cautious? I hardly can't wait to squash the juice of of this grapefruit of a spy." Another sounded, on the other side this time. Cocky, undeniably smug sounding, she swore that she heard someone punch his fist together.

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh? Maybe it's a good guy spy, like in those movies!" This time it sounded younger... And British. A young boy perhaps?

"Private, you know all spies are out to wreak havoc, mess up your innocent little head of yours. Never trust one, otherwise your biting more than just the cold hard dust." The previous voice countered, emphasizing the last bit of his sentence, causing a slight whimper from the young sounding voice.

"That's not very positive thinking..."

"Uh, actually sir, I can calculate a 52.9 chance of this spy being no threat to our operations."

"52? Then that's a 48 operation compromising, world dominating catastrophe waiting to happen! Rico, end Sleeping Beauty's shuteye."

Some sort of gargling, cluttered voice came after that, spitting out nothing but a brief round of gibberish nonsense. It ended with a cliche sounding evil laugh that someone would always hear, followed by the noises of someone hurling out... something.

Before she knew it, an object, cold, metallic and smooth was pressed against her side lightly, jabbing it multiple times making her eyes flutter open from its force. Her eyes trailed to its direction and found a silver bat being the culprit of waking her up. It was being held out by someone; she couldn't really tell who, since she's recently discovered that she was being held up in a pitch black room with one light illuminating just above.

Without warning, a stray arm came from the shadows and violently tugged on the collar of her suit, forcing her to face forward into whoever's eyes she could barely see.

"Listen up, I want answers and I won't hesitate to pound them out of you; who in McArthur are you?"

Odd, it was that threatening voice again, but the uneasy feeling of déjà vu was getting stronger by the second, scrapping the back of her mind, as if shouting out something that she once knew before. She just can't lay a finger on it.

She blinked, maybe out of the strangeness of the situation she was in. 'Do I know you' was what she actually wanted to retort back with, but her purpose came flooding back to her in a second, narrowing her eyes down at the invisible interrogator. "No one of your concern. Trust me buddy, I mean business."

"Oh sure you do." It mocked, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "Like the no good unprofessional spy you are!"

"I am not a-" She stopped herself just then. Realization has just hit her from a mile away, new information coming to mind. She bit her lip; there was no point in lying to them, especially after what they did.

"Guilty as charged; I am a spy."

"I knew it-"

"But for the same cause as yours." She had to choose her words carefully in a situation like this; it would mean risking a great deal proceeding. "Don't play your poker with me, I saw you out there. You were taking on Dr. Blowhole's henchmen along with me. I knew your reason; you were trying to stop him, and so was I. I technically saved you from that mutation of his. The real question here is why you took me in even after I was knocked out."

It went silent for a while after this, small murmuring coming from her far right along with some furious scribbling sounds on a paper of some sort.

"She does have a point Sk-"

"Quiet! She didn't even answer my question yet;" The other snapped, cutting off the younger one for the second time. "Who are you?"

"If you really must know, I'm known as Agent 082CA back in my base." She stated defiantly, lounging back in the chair she was restrained in. "You're a very particular one, are you?"

"What's the name of your operative?"

"Hm, no, that wasn't really part of your original question. I can't really answer that. Classified, sorry." She shrugged, a cocky grin tugging at one end of her mouth. Seeing this must've agitated her interrogator, him shooting her an icy glare from the faint light that showed his outline.

"Well you cheat in your game. Break up with the information, or I'll have one of my men here break you." He replied, and judging with his tone, through grit teeth. The crazed, gibberish laugh came back again, this time trying to sound as threatening as it could go.

She sighed, knowing that this would go absolutely nowhere without having the conditions their way. "A little operative base back in Denmark. I've been tasked to investigate Manhattan for criminal activity and report back in a year." She paused in her words, only throw the invisible interrogator a glare of her own. "But that's as detailed as I go."

"And that's as detailed as I want it to be." He replied, his tone indifferent. "I want nothing else to do with you, especially someone from Denmark."

"Well good then." She rolled her eyes out of annoyance. Interrogations were always the most frustrating part in her job, but she was just glad that she would be off soon enough. "You might as well drop me off at the nearest train tracks."

"Don't tempt me."

"Actually, sir, we might have a problem."

The professional, genius styled voice came back, now sounding a bit more shy from earlier. But didn't really mind that, she minded the 'problem' part in his sentence.

"What now?" The frustrated man asked him, sounding as if he was experiencing the largest migraine in the world.

"Well, it's just that she's got Dr. Blowhole's fusion orb..."

"And?"

"And it be playing a significantly important role in his plan for her to infiltrate a whole lair just to get it. We can't risk releasing her unless we'd want your nemesis to be able to complete his plan."

A perfectly timed groan of brutal realization sounded from the other and herself. They both already knew where this was going, and it seemed that there was no other choice for them. She guessed that the title of 'temporary captive' has just been expired.

"Fine. Just throw her into one of those cells we have for captives. She'll be here for time being until and only until we stopped Blowhole. Then I want that Agent 08- other numbers out of my sight."

"I have a real name you know." She spat, feeling nothing else but annoyed at how things have turned around for the worst. But by the end of the day, there was no real solution with lying to herself; she was exhausted, and she rather not be the one standing against a larger number of henchmen just for a single fusion orb.

The guy scoffed, obviously not satisfied with what was happening as well. "Then please, enlighten me. As if it would make the most of our misery."

She was already being lead to her cell at this point by the professional one, if her instincts were correct, but not before giving her forsaken answer.

"It's Castrilla."

"... What?"

"You heard me, it's Castrilla. Castrilla Quantabella." She repeated, not bothering to look back anymore. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to be busy being your prisoner, and I don't want to hear more of you any longer."

And with that she shut the cell door, leaving her captor in the dust, the uncomfortable, newfound sense of familiarity spreading to him like wildfire.


Ahh, how was that then?

Spoilerish alert, yes, both of them actually don't recognize or remember each other. That's why Skipper didn't looked so shocked but more confused. This will be explained later on, in case ya'll wondering.

I honestly don't know, so please tell me what ya'll think by reviewing! And thanks so much for all those who faved/reviewed/followed so far! I hope ya'll stick along for the long run! :3

~Subject007