( Author's note: Some people, myself included, felt this end was a bit short; I might elaborate on it some day, but when I was working on it my mojo had been rapidly running out, and I felt it better to give it a brief ending than no ending at all. )
It was a rare occasion that Spy was in his room to hear a knock at the door. Rarer still was an occasion on which he would answer it, but the peephole revealed the identity of his visitor, and he knew instantly that he had to admit this person. It was Sniper.
"To what do I owe ze pleasure of your company, Mssr. Mundy?" he asked, hiding any trepidation he might have felt. The marksman was inscrutable behind those yellow aviators, but a distinct scent of liquid courage hovered around him like a cloud. Spy wasn't sure if he should be worried or intrigued, and decided to settle on politely cautious.
Sniper moved into the room and shoved the door closed behind him, then approached Spy, a little too close for what most people would call comfort. His demeanor was unusually aloof, compared with the way he acted the last few times they had spoken - Spy wasn't sure if he should chalk it up to alcohol or some personal revelation. "Thought it were high time we 'ad a little talk, mate. What is it you want from me?"
"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" For a moment Spy was taken aback, mostly because it seemed like a trick question. Then his natural instincts kicked in, and he smirked faintly, leaning closer to Sniper. "Well, my answer depends on what you are 'oping for... Wishful thinking? Honesty? Or tact? I could say for example, zat I want to strip you naked and suckle at your piss-'ole until you beg to be fucked, but zat would probably fall under wishful th-"
The Australian grabbed Spy's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, growling barbarically. It wasn't an altogether unfriendly sound, and something about that raised the hairs on the back of Spy's neck. "I reckon, seein' as we've gotten along so well, your prospects for 'aving so much as a second chance ain't looking too good, unless..."
"Unless?" Spy arched an eyebrow, doing his best to play it cool, but something was making it difficult something that was Sniper's thigh, nudging against his crotch. He couldn't hide his erection from the other man.
Sniper smirked for a split second, then stepped back from him and went deadpan. "You want trust? You're gonna' have to earn it. ...here's my demands, on paper. Might even go a way towards convincing Engineer that you're serious about makin' up for what you did."
Spy was suddenly being presented a page of the Sniper's simple, legible handwriting. He accepted it dumbly and read the words, then re-read them, feeling a wide spectrum of emotions rushing through him in quick succession. The other man stood and watched expressionlessly; Spy knew his face was betraying more than he preferred, but he'd been taken off-guard by Sniper's advances, and then by this. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated as the past week loomed large, and all at once Spy knew this was his only chance.
(Only? Ugh, no. Not my only chance. ...it is my best one, though.) As he regained control of his expression, Spy settled on grim acceptance - it was an accurate reflection of his true feelings, for a change, but he felt there was little he could gain by being dishonest right now.
"You're the bloody secret agent-type here, so I'll leave the fine details up to you. Got the letter written up already," Sniper drawled, feeling through his pockets for something. A pack of cigarettes, apparently.
"You expected me to agree from ze start, didn't you? Hmph." Spy glowered at Sniper, but there was resignation in his voice. He straightened his tie and assumed a more businesslike demeanor. "...very well, I will do what you ask. It will have to wait until I 'ave ze time free from work, though, ze travel alone would be... hm, taking ze time zones into consideration, three days might be enough time for such an operation." Sniper looked a bit surprised, and he felt his mouth twitch. "...I 'ave connections everywhere, Mssr. Mundy, even within ze airline industry. Zere is no place in ze world beyond my reach."
"You'll follow me instructions to a 'T'," Sniper grunted, lightning his cigarette. "You're only to speak to her, and don't do anything to draw attention to yourself. No funny business. I'll know it if you try to pull something over on me."
The masked man sighed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. "You ask me to do zis, and you're worried I might pull one over on you? 'arm your loved ones? You wound me, mon chou. ...but yes, I will do exactly as you request. No lies, no... funny business, as you put it. If ze elderly gentleman is present, I can find some 'armless way to draw 'im away from ze 'ousehold for a while. Zen, I will simply introduce myself to ze woman as what I am: a message-bearer for 'er son."
