Hello lovelies! My hometown is on fire (far away enough that I can see it from my back-yard yet not too close to be worried of evacuation) so I'm posting a chapter! That, and I'm just really freakin' exited to move this story forward. I hope you all enjoy.

Again, shout out to my beta's: Kiss My Quill and theladylove.

Ready To Start

Later that night she was stretching in her room before she got ready for bed. It was an agonizing ordeal as Galahad had left more than a few bruises, so she was slower than usual despite the vitamins and Advil she'd taken.

She sighed as she finished her last stretch, changing the song on her laptop – she'd left her iPod at the training room, she'd get it tomorrow.

There was a series of knocks on her door and she sighed, keeping Ryn Weaver playing as she went to open the door.

"I don't wanna hear it Dylan, pretty boy got what he asked for-"

She stopped when she realized it was not Dylan but the 'pretty boy' himself at her door.

"Pretty boy, eh?" he grinned, his head tilting as she frowned.

How the hell did he know where she was?

"Roosevelt," she sighed, shaking her head. He nodded.

"Didn't even hesitate… the lot of us are a floor below, did'ya know that?"

She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What… did you come here for another beating? Third time's a charm, all that jazz?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorway.

He grinned.

"The third time will definitely be a charm, but no," he said, bringing the hand he was holding behind his back forward, showing her iPod that she'd left in the training room after being kicked out by Adams.

She hid her surprise as she reached forward to take it, but he drew it back, shaking his head, grinning.

"So you are a T. Swift fan," he said.

She stopped, but then frowned.

He went through her iPod?!

She tried to get it from him again but he dodged her every move. She figured she could fight him for it, but her body was sore enough so she decided against it.

"Hey, don't be ashamed. Your Beatles collection is quite extensive."

She refrained from grinning. One of the few pro's of her foster parents was their taste in music; more-so their own extensive collection of Beatles music that she downloaded.

"Give it here, Galahad," she snapped.

He tilted his head.

"Now, why should I just give it over, Lincoln?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to give a reply but the ring of her cell-phone interrupted.

They stared at each other for a beat before she turned around, heading to her bedside table as she grabbed her phone, looking at the screen.

She stopped, the phone still vibrating in her hand. The screen showed the number calling, but there was an asterisk in the bottom left hand corner, telling her it was a civilian call.

"It's an unknown number, you should-" he started but her hand flew up to cover his mouth as she shook her head. The area code was from New York. She accepted the call and put it on speaker, bringing up the number pad to tap in a code so the call recorded to their database.

"This is Ms… Finch, how can I help you?" she asked, faltering as she remembered her cover name.

She felt a tongue touch her fingers and jumped, drawing her hand back from Galahad's mouth, frowning as he grinned. She punched his gut and he let out an 'umph' but they both stopped when a familiar voice emitted from her phone, confirming Ana's feeling of who it was.

"My dear, it's Marsha Valentine, do you rememb-"

"Of course Mrs. Valentine, I could never forget such lovely company."

There was a soft laugh.

"Oh, just as sweet as ever, dearie. I know this is last minute and I hate to skip the pleasantries, but I've got a fashion emergency and need your help," Marsha said.

Ana met Galahad's gaze. He gave a curt nod, his lips titled down, his eyes staring into hers.

"I've been known to turn emergencies into success," she stated, wincing at her lame reply. She felt fingers graze her arm and looked at Galahad, who nodded.

"Oh, you are a life saver. I've got this Gala, complete waste of time if you ask me, but I just have to show my face. My now ex-stylist offered another skirt suit for it, but-"

"You need to wear something that makes a statement," she said, and Galahad's grazing fingers gripped her arm. She ignored the shiver down her spine combined with the fleeting feeling to shake him off as she continued, "I can fly in tomorrow, I'm just finishing up with a client in Seattle," she said.

"Oh, you're the best! I can pay for your flight-"

"Nonsense, Marsha. You'll only be paying for my services and nothing else."

"And honorable! I couldn't have asked for more, dearie," she said and Ana flinched, her hand tightening around the phone, her knuckles turning white.

"When do you need me, Marsha?" she asked.

"Yesterday would be best, but as soon as you can get here, I'd love your help. The Gala is this weekend."

Ana frowned. With the flight to New York, that left her only a day to find something for Marsha to wear – as a fake stylist no less…

Galahad stepped in front of her and nodded silently.

She nodded as well and then flinched, embarrassed as she replied.

"I'll take the next flight over, just give me the address."

She stared up at Galahad as Marsha rattled off info to where she was staying in New York, the hotel she'd already arranged for her to stay at, which was the same as where the Gala was to be held.

"And of course as thanks for this last minute rescue, you've got a ticket and a plus one to the event, it's the least I could do."

She stuttered, but Galahad reached forward, resting his hand over her white knuckles. She looked up at him wide eyed. He gave a curt nod.

She stayed still as she spoke.

"It would be a pleasure, Marsha. Though I'll have to check my contacts for my plus one," she said tersely, glaring at Galahad as he only grinned, his eyes roaming her face, landing on her lips… She blinked.

"Perfection! Text me your flight details, I'll have a car pick you up."

"Marsha, that's not-"

"I insist! I've got to let you go now, dear! Thank you! See you soon!" Marsha said before the call ended.

Ana let out a shaky breath, her tight grip on the phone loosening.

Galahad, who's hand was still on hers, squeezed. She blinked again and pulled back, dropping her head so she didn't look at him.

"This is good, Lincoln. This is the 'in' we need."

She nodded, refraining from flinching at the 'we', bringing up her contacts as she called Adams, keeping her phone on speaker.

"Lincoln this better be-"

"Review the call I just sent. Galahad and I will meet you in the Dining room."

If only she could control them, make them give her an apology, a thank you… anything. If it wasn't for her, they wouldn't be there finalizing plans for a short, soft, covert mission. With the target that she risked her ass, even her job, for.

She and Galahad stood at one end of the table, Washington and Merlin at the other side as Adams laid out the details of the Gala while pacing.

A 'Green' Fundraiser: promoting ecological and economical ways of life. A seat was over five hundred dollars. A four course meal was another six hundred. So far, none of the guests put up any red flags except for Marsha Valentine. However considering her attendance, she wasn't just to attend such a Gala to rub noses and drink with benefactors – she was there to do 'business'.

"Lincoln, good on keeping the plus one a mystery. Given the debriefing and recordings from Galahad's tech of the… fateful… night, this will be a surprise to Marsha, however not an unpleasant one," Washington said, staring down at her as though enjoying her disdain.

She didn't move, instead just curled her hands into fists. Great. Just great. Mission time with him.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"This is a double mission. You will both get close to the target, however you will both be given monitoring devices to either plant on her security, or, if god forbid you are invited, at her home. Even though it is one of many, her New York home is where she stays the most."

Adams from the corner spoke up.

"Our tailors and stylists have brought forward a collection of dresses-" he started but Ana shook her head, cutting him off.

"They can barely make a pair of jeans that fit me. I'd rather go with my own judgment," she said, turning towards Washington and Arthur, faltering before she finished with, "sirs."

She took a breath at their concerned faces as she continued.

"I will need an allowance to shop in New York, with the target of course. However, with my 'rates' the allowance will return almost doubled."

Washington nodded.

"Understood. Adams has created a deeper cover for you, including your own website and even a fake magazine interview. We can't let anything slip through the cracks. This approved mission needs to go flawlessly."

She heard Galahad clear his throat, and frowned.

"Of course, sir."

Merlin nodded.

"Very well. We've already booked the two of you a flight, you both leave for the airport in five hours. Dismissed, Kingsman."

Dylan sat on her bed, grinning, as she packed her suitcase.

"Stop it," she snapped, tired of the dopey yet smug look on his face before stuffing her make-up into a small pouch and tossing it onto the bed. Her other pouch with her toothbrush, paste, and floss followed, along with her toiletry bag.

"This is just too good, Ana. Too good," he said, shaking his head, still grinning. "This is like those cheesy movies and books! Faking a relationship, and somehow it turns into more-"

"Maybe I'm a player, and he's my boy-toy for the month," she said tersely, ignoring his comment. The way Galahad had stared and grinned at her in the hall after they left the Dining room… she was going to make this just as difficult for him as he was going to make it for her, and she would enjoy every second it it.

"Just don't fight him, you've got enough bruises as it is," he muttered, his tone serious.

She stopped and turned.

"He asked about my tattoo's, Dylan. Made fun of them."

"Why don't you tell him, then?"

She let out a snort.

"Yeah, and then we can braid each other's hair and share some Pino Grigio while we talk about our troubles."

Dylan frowned.

"Hey, I thought that was our thing," he said, the small twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away.

She couldn't hide her grin as she shook her head, mentally going through her checklist as she looked over her suitcase before zipping it closed. Her laptop and purse were already packed. She'd buy a dress in New York, not wanting to bother with a garment bag.

She was all set.

Dylan sighed, standing up and opening his arms, which she willingly stepped into, wrapping her arms around his middle, resting her ear on his chest to listen to his steady yet slightly quick heartbeat.

"Have a good mission kiddo. It hasn't been the same without you on the field."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him tighter, taking comfort in his embrace.

"Kennedy can hold his own; he's a good agent."

He nodded before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

She pulled back, looking up and smiling at him.

"Hey, maybe after this mission they'll lift my grounding," she said.

They stared at each other for a beat before both laughing.

"Washington's too stubborn for that, Ana," Dylan said, tucking one hand into his suit pocket, the other nudging at her chin. "Something the two of you have in common."

Ready To Start by Arcade Fire