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Here We Go… Again
"Have a good flight," the driver/guard/whatever-he-was said, talking only to her as he placed her suitcase on the sidewalk.
Eggsy eyed him carefully as the man watched her, his jaw twitching as she nodded and gave another convincing yet fake smile.
"I'm sure we will," he cut in, tensely.
The driver barely glanced at him as he gave a nod before walking back around to the driver's side, resting a hand on the top of the car as he looked at her again.
"Ask for Mr. Prentice when you check in and mention Mrs. Valentine. He'll speed you through security."
She smiled and waved as the driver got back in, closing the door. As soon as he drove off she let out a deep sigh, her entire body relaxing. Silently, they entered the airport and got in line to check in.
She was wound up so tight during breakfast. She had hostility towards Marsha, dropping her smile any time Marsha looked away, her hands tensing whenever Marsha called her dear or doted on her... the whole time it was apparent to him she was trying to keep a deep-seated animosity at bay.
As Hoover had told him in the shooting range, she was on a rogue mission when he'd first met her – and lost his first fight in a while. Her feelings towards Marsha were more than just general anger over V-Day; she had told him herself in a moment of weakness that she had lost somebody close to her. Perhaps there was a connection, and that was what drove her.
But Marsha would get her due soon. They expertly planted the listening devices in the cab, hiding one under the driver's seat, one under the passenger seats, and two under the passenger headrests. They'd failed to get one into her purse at the restaurant, but it was a tricky idea in the first place.
And Ana did her job staying chatty, even complaining along with the driver and giving some stories of her vehicular travels in L.A. as they planted the devices.
Ana.
He got a nickname, and yeah, he knew he tricked her into it, asking when she wasn't fully out of her slumberous state.
But it didn't suit her; he wasn't satisfied. He wanted her full name. He wanted to know who the hell Jeremy was, having such an impact on her that she had violent nightmares as a result.
He shivered slightly. Her eyes were open when she attacked him during her nightmare, but he knew immediately it wasn't her… it was as though she was someone else, playing a part even as her face turned downright scary when she talked about never seeing Jeremy again.
He touched his cheek as they walked through the doors, finding their gate and getting in line to check in. The bruise covered in make-up on his face was only one of many she'd given him. But he'd never tell her.
As far as she was concerned, she'd only managed to get him once – while dreaming.
He turned to look down at her, her fingernail scratching at the edge of her ticket nervously, her eyes moving around the airport.
Without thinking about it he reached forward, resting his hand on top of hers. She jumped so much that his other hand came to its now comfortable spot on her back so she didn't stumble. She nodded, calming down, dropping her hands but surprisingly not flinching away from his touch.
"I didn't like him either," he said softly.
Her head shot up, wide eyes meeting his gaze. And then her face transformed and he knew he'd lost her.
Her lips scowled, and her eyebrows drew down.
She turned to the front of the line, taking a small step away as he let his hand fall.
Their flight had been delayed an hour, so the terminal was packed full of grumpy people, anxious to either get home or to their destination.
They were sitting side by side. He was reading a novel and she was working on her report of their trip. She always tried to get her 'paperwork' done en route home, when the details were still fresh in her mind.
Her report consisted of almost everything; of shopping with Marsha, her drivers – including the 'friendly' one that looked like a soldier – the Gala, the unknown and locked down hallway, the success of implanting the devices in the limo. She, of course, excluded the fact of her nightmare and Galahad's resulting bruises.
She typed on, almost finishing her report, her fingers flying over the keys before he let out a deep sigh and slammed his book closed, making her jump.
He took that moment to grab her laptop right out of her hands. She punched him in the shoulder and tried to grab it back but he blocked her hands as he quickly opened a word document and started typing.
He finished a second later and pushed the laptop back onto her legs. She stared at him, and he gestured his head to the screen.
She looked around, and faltered. The terminal was already pretty crowded – with citizens sitting on either side of them. And knowing how most of their conversations ended, he was smart to write their conversation down.
She looked at the screen.
-How do you know about Lee?
She blinked but didn't look at him.
-I don't know anything. Just that the name means something to you. I'm not the only one who talks in their sleep. She typed back, and then handed it over to him.
He read it and then turned his head to look at her, his eyebrow furrowing as he turned back to the keyboard, his fingers flying as he typed his reply.
-Who's Jeremy?
She flinched when she read it, and frowned, staring at the screen and ignoring his gaze on her.
-Like I told you. He's not…
She stopped, deleting the words as her frown grew deeper. She couldn't even put it into words. But she had to. This was a chance to fully hide any emotions that would've come through if she told him aloud.
She thought over it for a few seconds, and then typed.
-You have the bruise on your face. Shouldn't that say enough?
He adjusted the computer to rest on both their knees, but his hands stopped as he read her reply.
He turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed.
She turned away.
That was the wrong thing to type. He'd already noticed how nervous the driver had made her… and now this. He was good.
She was stronger than this: keeping everything a secret, not telling anyone – except Dylan of course – anything.
She looked anywhere but towards him, watching lone travelers, couples, families, all passing time in their different ways as they waited for the flight; living their normal lives. Not as spies, not fueled by revenge.
She froze when she heard the clicks of the keys, and waited until it stopped to turn back to her screen.
-I used to have someone like that, too.
Her head snapped to look at him, but he was pulling her own stunt, staring at the screen determinedly.
"Now boarding first class passengers. Now boarding first class passengers," the attendant's voice emitted loud on the speakers, making her jump. She saw his head shake slightly, a grin on his face.
Time for a change of subject.
She wanted to address why he was being a little bitch about her not giving her full name, but decided against it, instead getting away from the personal.
-Do you think we have good standing with Marsha? And that the devices will work?
His hands interrupted hers and she pulled back at the touch, watching his fingers move and waiting until he stopped to look at the screen.
-Fine, I'll say it. What is it with you and your name? The tattoos? ME?
She frowned.
-That's too many questions.
He stared at the screen and then sunk down in his chair defeated, his head leaning back as he looked at the ceiling, his lips moving but not saying anything.
"Business class now boarding…" That was her cue. Her hand shot up and slammed her laptop closed, sliding it into its case and shoving it into her bag, "Business class now boarding."
Saved in the knick of time.
They stood up, Galahad still shaking his head as they walked towards the small line forming.
She let out a sigh as they finally sat down in their seats.
He shook his head at her again, reaching down into his messenger bag, bringing out a notebook and pen, sliding off the elastic strap and turning to an empty page. He clicked his pen and started writing, obviously not ready to give up, but she let out a scoff and grabbed the pen from his fingers, sliding the notebook out from under his hands, quickly bringing them down and adjusting her legs so she sat on it.
He turned, leaning into her across the armrest, and she shook her head despite the close proximity.
"Too many questions," she said sternly, staring him down.
His furrowed gaze relaxed, but he stayed leaning in, his eyes moving all over her face before locking onto her gaze.
His head tilted just a bit before he pulled back.
"We've got time."
They stayed pleasant yet mostly silent the entire time they traveled back to headquarters – including the plane ride.
They exited the cab, the driver coming out to help them with their suitcases, only giving them a nod before he got back in and drove off. He was there at the gate, holding an empty sign, the indication that he was one of the Kingsman private drivers.
She sighed as she looked up at the large mansion, once the home of Balthazar Getty, whose past ancestor was an agent and donated his property to the Kingsman. The family was always continuing to donate to the agency, and with at least every other instance of new recruit's, a Getty name was amongst the new batch. Currently the namesake was Kennedy. The perk, at least for Ana, was free and unfettered allowance to both the Getty Museum and the Getty Villa under the guise as a major donor.
She let out a sigh, heading for the main doors. However, she froze when they entered, sniffing the air and letting out a pleasant hum.
"Oh, God bless him," she muttered, smiling as she let go of her suitcase, leaving it in the hall as she walked forward, following the smell.
Dylan always knew how to welcome her back whenever she went on missions without him.
"Who?" he asked, following her as she sped walk down the hall, checking each room before gasping as she found both Dylan and the cause of the smell.
However Dylan wasn't alone in the lounge, sitting at the main round table that the agents sometimes held poker night at. But instead of poker chips and cards, the table held multiple fast-food bags.
In'n'Out.
"Oh my god," she said quickly, rushing forward and rummaging in a bag, bringing out a cheeseburger and moaning after she took her first bite. Absolute heaven.
She swallowed, turning to Lancelot who was sitting across the table from Dylan, smiling up at her in amusement but also understanding, taking a fry and tossing it into her mouth. She took another bite, closing her eyes for a blissful moment before opening them again.
"It's been a while," Ana explained.
Dylan snorted, and she scowled at him for a second before she broke into a smile.
"And when I mean a while, it's more than two months," she muttered before taking another large bite of the cheeseburger, rolling her eyes at Dylan before winking; he laughed.
She swallowed and then stopped when a throat cleared next to her.
She turned to see Galahad grinning at her.
She scrunched her nose at him but motioned her head towards the table as she walked around and took a seat next to Dylan, grabbing a bag and ripping the top, using it to create a makeshift plate.
"Try one; at least it'll shut you up."
Galahad stepped around the table, sitting next to Lancelot, still grinning at her as he reached into one of the bags, bringing out his own cheeseburger.
She wanted to act indifferent but just had to watch as he took his first bite.
His eyes widened as he swallowed, letting out a hum of appreciation.
"Wow. Whoever complains 'bout American fast food hasn't tried this," he muttered.
"Actually," Lancelot said, finishing some fries, "it's a pride of the… South-West?" she said, looking over to Dylan as though just learning the fact. Dylan smiled and nodded, making Ana raise an eyebrow.
She knew that smile.
"Yup. Can't find this in New York," Dylan said, taking a bite of what Ana knew would be his second burger. He'd be taking extra laps tonight. She'd be taking twice as many laps tomorrow morning. But it was all worth it.
"I heard their Pizza rival's other states," Lancelot said, smiling back, and Ana noticed Galahad raising an eyebrow.
"Wait, we… met… in New York, and you never had a chance to try a slice?" Ana asked, and Lancelot shook her head.
"Huh," Ana continued, "Maybe you can come with me next mission," she said as she took the final bites of her cheeseburger and smiled innocently at Galahad. He only stared at her, as though knowing she was trying to get a rise out of him.
He raised an eyebrow.
"That'd be sexy, but somethin' tells me Marsha's a bit too traditional to be acceptin' of a bisexual," he said, mirroring her innocent smile with one of his own.
Lancelot laughed as Ana acted as though she was still chewing to move her lips around to hide her smile. But the gleam in Galahad's eye told her he saw it.
"Well her son was a homicidal maniac… something tells me Marsha might be more progressive than others," she said, giving Galahad a pointed look.
"Well, this won't turn out well, my queue to leave," Dylan muttered, grabbing his burger as he sat up, turning and raising an eyebrow as he looked down at her. Ana only shrugged, motioning to her make-shift plate.
"Thanks for taking me to the South-West's best, Dylan," Lancelot said, and Ana froze.
They'd introduced themselves?
Lancelot turned to her, smiling.
"We thought it was time. I'm Roxy," she said, wiping her hands on a napkin before holding out a hand across the table.
Ana looked around for a napkin but instead just wiped her hands on her leggings before reaching out and shaking her hand, smiling at the firm grip.
Roxy leaned back in her chair and nudged Galahad, who only stared at Ana as he shook his head.
"How 'bout Lincoln goes first?" he asked.
She frowned, leaning back in her seat.
"And how about you accept that I told you my name – which you tricked me into giving, by the way."
"How do you get tricked into giving a name?" Roxy asked.
Ana waved her hand, still staring Galahad down, his gaze equally firm.
"We were just waking up-"
"You slept in the same bed!?" Dylan said, his voice rising.
"Marsha only reserved one room," Galahad muttered, still keeping her gaze, unblinking.
"Hey buddy, hotels have cots, you know," Dylan growled.
Galahad and Ana stayed silent, not faltering from their glaring contest.
"Nope, I'm not getting into the middle of this," Dylan muttered, finally leaving the room. Ana scoffed.
Thanks a lot, buddy.
She didn't draw her gaze away and took a deep breath before she spoke.
"I already told you about…" Ana faltered, knowing Roxy was there, and not wanting her to know. She never wanted anybody to know, but she had slipped up with using the name Natasha. Maybe she should've chosen a different cover-name "her… and yet you barely told me shit about Lee."
"She knows about Lee?" Roxy asked with wide eyes as she turned to Galahad. He ignored his colleague and leaned in, his face angry.
"How 'bout you tell me what the bastard Jeremy did to ya-" she shot out of her seat, her hands slamming on the table, making Roxy flinch but Galahad stayed unmoving as he finished, "and then I'll tell ya about Lee."
She glared at him, breathing heavily.
"Sorry about the other bruises. At least you won't need concealer for those," she snapped, grabbing her second burger and putting it in the bag that had fries, picking it up as she nudged her chair back, chancing a glance a Galahad.
He seemed surprised that she knew.
As though he didn't wince during breakfast with Marsha while reaching for maple syrup across the table, or his breath leaving him when she playfully punched him after he made a crude joke in the car, playing along with the couple stint.
He shook his head.
"Y'know, I just gotta wonder what the hell this Jeremy did to get your knickers in such a tight twist-"
"What the hell, Eggsy?" Roxy yelled out.
Ana's heart stopped and she felt her breath leave her, almost dropping the bag but instead closing her grip painfully tight around it, her knuckles turning white.
"What did you just say?" she whispered.
Galahad's glare instantly dropped, and he almost looked concerned. He tilted his head as Roxy frowned.
"I mean it's a nickname, but it's not that terrible…" Roxy said slowly, trying to understand.
Ana took a step back.
"What name did you just say?" she asked, her heart almost beating out of her chest.
"Eggsy. What's got you worked up?" he asked, moving to get out of his seat.
She took another step back, shaking her head and clearing her throat.
"I… no… I gotta go. Nice meeting you, Roxy," she said as she turned and quickly walked out of the room, breaking into a sprint once she reached the hall.
Her heart raced, her mind raced as she ran, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, climbing down four floors and not stopping until she reached her temporary living quarters, slamming the door behind her and falling to the floor, the bag of food dropping from her hands as she crossed her legs and bent over, catching her breath.
Everything had just changed with one word.
Eggsy.
He was Eggsy.
Her mouth quirked at the name, but she shook her head, sighing as she stood up, walking to the bathroom to splash water on her face, patting at her cheeks and rubbing her temples, avoiding her own gaze in the mirror.
She had to tell him.
She'd given her his nickname and he resented it.
He'd, also unintentionally, given her his nickname and now… something was about to change.
Here We Go Again by Paramore