Author note: Fleurmione sexy spy silliness for Fleurmione Week 2022? Yes please
Bold dialogue means they're speaking in French
Oh and yes, I watched a lot of Chuck the tv show lol
romance, spies, romancing spies, sexual tension, rivals to rivals and maybe more, they're not making out they're seducing an adversary, fleurmione fandom says 'sure Jan', Pansy wants to watch fleurmione as much as we do, some spiciness, ok ok they make out lol
Day 3:
"Wait, did you not say 'You should (insert word/phrase here) her'?"
"No, I said 'You should (insert word/phrase here) her'."
"Merde."
Fleur Delacour arrived for the party at Malfoy Manor alone. As expected there was scant security at the door, just a metal detector and a few guards. There were no guns that she could see. She wasn't carrying either, but she knew where a firearm had been placed for her in case she needed one.
It was a warm night and since she had no coat to hand to an attendant, she followed the velvet ropes guiding guests down the hallway to the ballroom, immediately clocking the target once inside the large ornate room.
Pansy Parkinson. Art dealer. Well-to-do family. Mainly above board, though some would argue a few acquisitions had been made through less than scrupulous means. Still, espionage was an unusual escalation for a woman like her. Either she'd been operating under the radar or this was her criminal debut.
A week and a half ago in a London hotel, Parkinson met with a distant cousin. A vengeful French government employee who'd swiped an encrypted flash drive from the briefcase of a cheating lover who also happened to work for Fleur's agency, the DGSE, not knowing what was on it.
Unfortunately for that cousin and the idiot lover who implicated her (Fleur had heard with satisfaction that he would still face severe consequences for his professional lapses), the drive contained sensitive information about French intelligence capabilities. Subsequent interrogations of the woman informed the DGSE that the drive had been sold to her art dealer cousin who'd said she knew what to do with it.
Needless to say, the DGSE wanted that flash drive back before it could be decrypted. It was concluded that Parkinson didn't have the means or desire to do so herself, and evidence pointed to an exchange tonight. Fleur's orders were to remove the drive from Parkinson's possession while also getting information on whomever it was she'd contacted for the transaction; they were calling the unknown person 'the Buyer' for now.
The information about the exchange came from MI6, though they didn't know what was on the drive and the DGSE refused to tell them. But since Parkinson was an Englishwoman, and the exchange was happening on British soil, MI6 insisted on being involved.
In other words, they wanted the flash drive, too. Fleur's secondary mission was to prevent that from happening.
Speaking of which, she spotted her British counterpart across the ballroom.
Fleur was normally averse to teaming up with foreign agencies, but she'd encountered Agent Granger on several prior missions and she deemed her a worthy exception.
Not that she would ever tell Hermione that.
Regrettably, the last two assignments had been to intercept and disrupt MI6 goals, which she thought had ruined her chances of getting to know the agent on a more personal level. But during the briefing for this operation, Fleur was happy to discover their special blend of antagonistic flirtation remained just as strong so maybe those chances weren't so ruined after all.
With a small jazz quartet playing unobtrusive music in the background, she slowly sauntered through the space, smiling and chatting with various attendees as if she knew them, making some low bids on a couple of much-lauded paintings for the silent auction, and watching her rival approach the target as planned.
::
Hermione Granger was no stranger to upper-crust parties, her job depended on being able to handle herself in any situation, but she hated them with a passion. Being here at Malfoy Manor for a charity auction was especially annoying considering the son Draco had been one of the people that made her life hell back in school at Hogwarts. At least he was too enamored with his fiancée Astoria Greengrass tonight to pay her much attention. In fact, her presence hardly registered at all.
But as far as anyone there was concerned, Hermione was a freelance journalist and had been for the last several years. This cover allowed her the freedom to travel when needed, as well as involve herself in these types of high society events.
Her unease increased slightly when she noticed Fleur Delacour's arrival. It was hard to miss her. The French agent could wear a potato sack and make it look couture but for tonight's purposes, the woman pulled out all the stops with a strapless silver gown that went down to her ankles and a thigh slit that went a little too high to be considered decent. Her long blonde hair was loose and fell down her back in soft waves.
It made Hermione's mouth go dry, and she took a long sip of her wine as she turned away, not wanting the woman to catch her watching.
"Agent Lion, Veela is here."
"I know," she responded softly against the rim of her glass. She and Ginevra Weasley had been partners for two years, and friends since Hogwarts. Seeing Fleur may have unnerved her momentarily, but her partner's voice in her earpiece helped her regain focus. Ginny would normally be out here in the field with her, but considering their location, it was best to not have too many faces around that were familiar to the mark.
She turned her gaze back to the woman in question. Pansy Parkinson. An art dealer who donated a few notable pieces for tonight's silent auction, and her teenaged nemesis.
There had been some debate whether Hermione should be the one on this mission. Pansy went to Hogwarts too, and Hermione's identity as a covert operative for MI6 was at risk if the woman figured out what she was up to. Plus, teenage bullying was not something she wanted to relive. But Ginny had argued to their superiors that their past was exactly why Pansy would never suspect a thing and it gave Hermione the perfect excuse to get her alone. Pansy had always wanted a taste and wouldn't be able to resist, Ginny reasoned. Hermione had disagreed, saying Hogwarts was a long time ago and there was no telling whether Pansy would still find her appealing. The assignment didn't actually require her to sleep with the mark, and she never took those jobs anyway, but even partial seductions like this made her uncomfortable.
Then again, once she'd learned Delacour would be her French counterpart during the mission, and volunteered to be the honeypot since Hermione seemed reluctant, she'd used Ginny's same arguments to make sure she was the one to approach Parkinson. Her bloody competitive streak had obviously gotten the better of her, but she'd be damned if she let Delacour win another one.
Hermione sipped her wine again, put on a practiced meek expression, and shyly approached Parkinson.
::
"Agent Veela, we've identified the Buyer." Her sister's voice was loud and clear through the earpiece.
"That was fast," Fleur said under her breath as she made her way to the bar which was at one end of the ballroom. Others often told her it would be too difficult to work with a sibling, but she and her sister worked well together. Gabrielle loved the technical side of intelligence gathering, and had no interest in being a field agent, so neither one of them felt threatened by the other. Sometimes their familial relationship blurred with their working one, but never in a way that threatened the mission. Gabrielle was currently in a nondescript van parked with the others belonging to the vendors the Malfoys had hired for tonight's event.
"Our man with the caterers placed our extendable ears in the study across from the ballroom just before the guests arrived, as well as in other places around the ballroom. He even disabled some of the British ones as he went. Ours was the only one in the study, however, so we're confident the British didn't hear the brief conversation I heard. The Dark Witch is back. Since your mission is the drive, which the target still has, I had someone else follow the witch as she left."
Fleur whispered, "Perfect. Well done, little Veela."
Once she reached the bar, she ordered a Sazerac, specifying she wanted the original version made with cognac and absinthe, and listened to Gabrielle explain how Parkinson had been told to sit on the drive for a couple more weeks. This was a relief to Fleur. It meant the art dealer still had the drive, and no one had decrypted the information yet. And as much as she wanted to follow the Dark Witch herself, Fleur trusted her sister's decision and her team. They would get her after she was done here tonight.
"Being picky again?" a voice said next to her.
The blonde smirked at the British agent's opening salvo yet didn't take her eyes off the bartender preparing her drink.
"When it suits me," she replied in a low voice, turning to take in Hermione's dress now that she was up close. It was a red wrap dress, and modest, but it clung to her in all the right places. Her wavy brown hair was swept up in a messy chignon held together by two metallic hair sticks, with a couple of ringlets loose over her ears. She was beautiful and her heart skipped a beat as it always did when her body registered its attraction to the other woman. Only her rigorous training allowed her to keep her breaths even and her expression unaffected.
With her Sazerac now in front of her, Fleur raised the glass and took a small sip, letting a few seconds pass to rile up the brunette's impatience. Lowering her drink back down to the bar, she nodded her head out towards the ballroom and said, "I see you struck out."
Hermione huffed and turned to the bartender, placing her empty wine glass on the bar and ordering a Gibson with three onions, irritated that Fleur had seen how quickly the mark had dismissed her. Pansy had given her a quote for her article about the auction then said she couldn't be bothered with school reunions and walked away, and the agent lost sight of her for a time. Hermione should've done more to calm herself as she waited for her drink but it was hard to stay patient with Delacour next to her. Ginny's quiet laughter in her ear only added to her ire.
"I did warn you that this was a high-level exchange. Unfortunately, that means she's not going to let herself be distracted by such temptations tonight. The fact that she didn't go for it likely means she still has the drive, though. We should search her room. She's still close with the Malfoys and she's staying in one of the guest rooms upstairs tonight."
"Oh chérie, just admit it," Fleur replied in a mocking lilt. "She didn't find you enticing enough to mix business with pleasure. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Some agents just lack the necessary finesse."
Gabrielle snorted through the earpiece and Fleur had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She hoped it looked like a teasing smirk. From the murderous honey-brown eyes glaring back at her, it appeared that it did.
"You know what?" Hermione bit out through gritted teeth, ignoring Ginny's warnings not to let Fleur get to her. "Since you're so adept at using your assets in such a way, you should seduce her."
Fleur smiled, having gotten exactly what she wanted.
"Fine. Watch and learn."
What the British agent didn't know was that Fleur had spent hours studying Parkinson's habits and proclivities, and she also knew Granger's strengths and weaknesses as an agent, so she had predicted the brunette wouldn't be successful in seducing the mark. As a lover, Fleur had no doubt there was more to Hermione than met the eye. More than once she'd temporarily lost focus on a job thanks to the presence of the stubborn yet shy and sweet brunette. But shy sweetness would not be enough for Parkinson. Things may have been different in their school days, but the art dealer currently preferred her women direct and slightly mean. It was why Fleur hadn't protested when Hermione said she would take lead on the operation. Provoking her anger and competitiveness was an all too easy manipulation, too. Fleur was now poised to ensure the flash drive fell into French hands where it belonged.
Fleur took a bracing sip of her drink, but just before she could turn around and find the target, Gabrielle spoke up.
"She's at the other end of the bar."
Hermione must've heard a similar message from her own team because she stiffened as she took her drink from the bartender.
The French agent relaxed her shoulders and directed her gaze towards Parkinson. She arched an eyebrow when the woman made eye contact and smiled. Answering it with a suggestive smile of her own, she wasn't surprised when Parkinson approached. She turned to face her, and could tell Hermione had done the same. Perhaps the brunette thought she might try again.
"You're wasting your time with that one," Pansy said.
"Oh? And why do you say that?" The blonde hadn't expected Pansy to think she was hitting on Hermione, and she was curious why the woman would bring it up as an introduction. Turning so that her back rested against the bar, and so Hermione could participate if she wanted, Fleur continued, "She's beautiful. And I do appreciate beauty."
Pansy's smile was wicked and smug as Fleur's eyes trailed up and down her body. The woman was attractive with shoulder-length black hair and wearing a snug-fitting black dress.
"Beautiful, yes. But Hermione has always been as dull as dishwater. I'm Pansy Parkinson, by the way."
"Please leave me out of it," stated Hermione angrily as she spun to face the bar, grabbing her drink and finishing it off.
"Now, now, chérie, no need to be jealous. You haven't lost my attention… yet. Be a good girl and order Miss Parkinson a glass of wine. And one for me, too. Make sure it's French." Fleur turned back to Pansy and held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Pansy. I'm Clémence Durand."
Fleur noted the parted lips and flushed expression as they shook hands. The woman clearly enjoyed how she'd just treated Hermione.
I wonder…
An idea formed in her head. Hopefully Hermione would be smart enough to play along.
Over the next thirty minutes, Fleur laughed and teased Pansy, keeping the woman's wine glass constantly filled, and pretending to drink just as much to encourage her. Sometimes the Frenchwoman dismissed her entirely as she paid attention to Hermione, but she made sure to keep Parkinson's interest with sharp comments towards both.
::
Hermione knew the game Fleur was playing, and she didn't like having to pretend to compete for her attention with Pansy fucking Parkinson, not one bit. But the mission was the priority so she went along with it, and it wasn't too hard to bristle at their behavior, or to flirt back when the blonde needed her to. At least Fleur didn't outright belittle her, unlike Pansy who took every opportunity to share old school stories and embarrass her in front of the gorgeous blonde.
And then the two of them started to get more tactile. Lingering touches along arms, prolonged gazes at plump lips. Hermione's fake frustration turned all too real, the stabs of jealousy at seeing Fleur effortlessly seducing this woman becoming more painful with every second. The thing that bothered her the most was that she wasn't even sure if it was professional jealousy or if it was that unspoken thing that's been between them ever since she first encountered the French agent on a mission two years ago.
When she couldn't take it anymore, Hermione tried to leave, but Fleur was ready for this response and put a firm hand on her waist, pulling her close.
"The night's just beginning, Hermione. Isn't that right, Pansy?"
Pansy looked between the two, not bothering to hide her hunger. Hermione was surprised to see that it was not just directed at Fleur but at her, too. She thought Fleur had been using her as a prop to hook Pansy, and they would leave to find a more secluded spot when the blonde was sure she had her, but it appeared she had misjudged the last half hour altogether.
"See? I told you I wouldn't forget about you," Fleur said with a meaningful stare. Putting her lips to Hermione's ear, she whispered, "She wants to watch us."
"She's right, Lion. I've got the bar on my screen and the mark's about ready to jump you both. It's the perfect excuse for you to get into her room for a shot at the thumb drive," assured Ginny.
Hermione wanted to kill Fleur. For all the slights Fleur had inflicted on her as she flirted with Pansy. For the twinkle in those blue eyes that said she was enjoying Hermione's discomfort. And for the way her pulse picked up at the thought of touching Fleur, kissing her–
For the mission, Granger, stop thinking about Delacour that way, she scolded herself.
The British agent feigned a soft smile at 'Clémence' and a demure glance at Pansy before nodding.
::
In the main hallway outside the ballroom, Pansy, who was holding an opened bottle of wine, unfastened one end of velvet rope and let the two women through. They waited for her to refasten the rope and then followed her to the stairway. The guards near the metal detector just gave them a bored look as Pansy waved at them.
Fleur and Hermione stayed several steps behind as they followed. When Pansy was near the top and they were only halfway up the stairs, Fleur pretended to stumble, and pushed Hermione against the wall.
Underneath the brunette's loud giggles and the din from the party below, Fleur whispered in her ear, "Kevlar? Weapon?"
Hermione gave a short head shake indicating the lack of body armor. She blushed; she knew the woman was asking because they might have to remove their clothes. The only weapons she had were the hair sticks which were actually knives, and a lipstick in her clutch that doubled as an aerosol sedative.
"Knives in hair," the British spy whispered back. "You?"
"Polyresin knives in my bustier along the back," Fleur rushed. In a louder voice, Fleur stepped back and said, "She's nervous, this one."
Hermione's mind stuttered as her eyes dropped to Fleur's cleavage, wondering what color her bustier was, before her temper flared at the blonde's last words.
"She always did strike me as the vanilla type," said Pansy, rolling her eyes and taking a swig of wine. Her words slurred together and she looked a little unsteady on her feet.
"Ah, but you should be patient, Pansy," Fleur teased. "I find it's the nervous ones who end up screaming the loudest."
"Maybe I'll surprise you both," Hermione bit back. She pushed past Fleur and marched up the stairs without them, determinedly looking left and right. "Where to, Parkinson?"
"Go right, Granger. Fifth door on the right," Pansy answered with a laugh. "Clémence, I do believe you got her mad."
Fleur saw the piqued interest in the target's eyes as she went up the steps to join her. Pansy liked it when Granger fought back just as much as she did. She took the woman's hand and tugged her the rest of the way up the stairs. When they reached the landing, they went right and Fleur grabbed Pansy from behind, nosing into the back of her neck and grazing her lips over the woman's shoulder. To give Hermione more time in the room before they got there, but to also make something clear.
"I want her first, if that's all right with you," stated Fleur in a way that meant she didn't care if Pansy agreed or not.
Pansy gasped. "Yes, okay. I was thinking the same thing. But you and I…"
"Don't worry, ma belle. I'll take such good care of you afterwards."
::
When Fleur and Pansy walked into the guest room, Hermione was sitting on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, her clutch beside her.
The brunette only had a couple of minutes, not enough time to do a full search, but she did rifle through Pansy's suitcase, which she moved off the bench and onto the floor near the wardrobe. There was nothing there so she gave a discreet shake of her head at Fleur's searching eyes and waited for a signal on what to do next.
Both bedside lamps were on and the light was soft enough to not be bothersome.
Not wanting to give the target any opening to get the drop on them, Fleur gestured towards the lamps and said, "Good, I want to see you both."
"Fine, lights, I like them, too. Let's get this party started, shall we?" Pansy tried to sound nonchalant but Hermione could hear her eagerness.
"Pansy, put the wine on the nightstand, slip off your shoes, and make yourself comfortable on the bed," said Fleur firmly, keeping her eyes on Hermione.
As the wobbling woman did so, practically falling onto the bed and positioning herself upright against the pillows along the headboard, Hermione stared pointedly at her clutch.
Fleur knew about the spray. It was part of the plan Hermione had laid out in the mission briefing. Something the brunette would use to knock Pansy out once she'd gotten her alone.
On any other mission, Fleur would agree that incapacitating Parkinson to allow a search of the room would be the right course of action. But Hermione was using her real identity as her cover tonight, Pansy knew who she was, and Fleur wanted to protect that for the British agent. This needed to look more real before they used the spray. So, in answer to the brunette's stare, she shook her head.
Hermione huffed and took her irritation out on Pansy.
"I'm surprised you're still friends with the Malfoys after Draco threw you over for Astoria."
"Tsk tsk, Hermione," scolded Fleur as she stalked towards Hermione and sat to the woman's right on the bench. "Play nice or I will be forced to play… not so nice."
Gabrielle laughed in her ear, and Fleur had to admit she enjoyed the slight widening of honey-brown eyes and the bob of her throat.
"And how do you play not so nice?" husked Hermione, feeling her heart race as the blonde slid closer to her on the bench.
Fleur hummed. "I'm not sure you could handle it," she murmured, trying not to lose her breath at how intoxicating it was to finally be this close to the brunette.
"I'm more capable than you think," Hermione whispered. Pansy snorted behind them and grabbed the bottle of wine to take another drink, but neither one of them responded to her.
"Are you?" Fleur breathed.
The blonde lifted her left hand and slipped it around the woman's waist, pulling Hermione even closer. Her other hand reached up behind the back of Hermione's neck, dragging her blunt fingernails across silky skin as she did so. When her breath hitched, Fleur could tell the sound was real. The dilation in her pupils, the parted lips. Brown eyes dropped to hers and the woman leaned forward. But instead of kissing her like she wanted, Fleur turned her head. She wanted Hermione desperate for her touch so she brushed her nose up against her cheek, moving across and then down to her neck, always keeping her lips just a hair's breadth away.
Hermione was frustrated by the teasing but it also reminded her to stay on task, no matter how much she needed to feel Fleur's lips.
The brunette brought her hands up to grip the blonde's shoulders, drawing a faint whimper out of Fleur.
"Clutching too tight?" Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly back and down to her left.
"Non," Fleur replied, her tone staying neutral despite every inch of her body screaming for Hermione's hands to hold her tighter. "Not yet."
Hermione pouted and then gasped when suddenly, without warning, Fleur pulled her in for a hard kiss. She barely had time to respond before the blonde broke away to trail kisses down her neck. She didn't hear a peep out of Pansy but apparently Fleur had.
"You like that, Pansy?" Fleur asked, biting lightly on Hermione's shoulder.
"Most definitely. And if that blush is anything to go by, I think she liked it, too. I think she likes it rough," Pansy said, her words sluggish.
Hermione turned towards her, expecting to see the woman on the brink of passing out, and was surprised to see Parkinson moving closer to them and unzipping herself out of her dress, leaving on her black bra and panties as she sat on her haunches at the foot of the bed looking down at them.
It was hard to concentrate with Fleur nibbling along her neck, but it wasn't until the Frenchwoman started to suck hard at her pulse point that Hermione lost all composure and moaned loudly, feeling heat shoot all the way down to her core.
The sounds Hermione was making were driving Fleur wild. Her hands moved to the tie at Hermione's waist, quickly undoing it and sliding her hands through the opening along the front of her dress and pushing it down off her shoulders.
"Can I cut in for a second?"
Pansy didn't wait for a reply before grabbing the blonde and pulling her in for a kiss which, after a slightly stunned pause, Fleur returned enthusiastically.
A little too enthusiastically for Hermione's liking. The sight of Pansy's hands in Fleur's hair and their mouths locked together made something ugly twist in her chest, and Hermione was about to yank Parkinson off of her partner, er, temporary colleague, but then she noticed something sticking out of the woman's bra.
The drive.
"My turn," growled Hermione. She grabbed the back of Pansy's head, pulling her away from Fleur, and Hermione surged upward, kissing her old nemesis like her life depended on it.
Ginny had been right about there being an unresolved tension between her and Parkinson back in school. When she hadn't been busy hating the girl, Hermione had sometimes wondered what it would be like to force her to choke on all her insults with a kiss.
But she felt none of those old feelings of attraction with Pansy now, her emotions instead focused on hoping Fleur was experiencing some of the jealousy she felt a moment ago. And unlike during the kiss with the French agent, Hermione was able to keep a cool head as she made the switch with the replacement flash drive she had in own bra which Fleur had provided at the briefing.
Hermione finished tucking the real drive in her bra before Pansy pushed her away, laughing and panting.
"Wow, I didn't think you had it in you, Granger."
The mark fell backwards on the bed, awake yet groggy, looking at them with glazed eyes.
Fleur took advantage of Pansy's remaining conscious state and leaned forward, pressing soft kisses on Hermione's bare shoulder. Seeing Hermione's featherlight hands make the swap had been impressive but also infuriating. Those hands should be on Fleur. Her lips should be the lasting memory the brunette thought of after this mission. To her delight, the woman shivered at the touch.
Hermione turned to Fleur, the Frenchwoman's expression dark with need and something else she couldn't pin down. One more kiss wouldn't hurt. Especially since Pansy was still watching.
Their lips met again, gently this time, Fleur wanting to memorize how the woman tasted, to feel her slowly unravel with every parting of their mouths against one another. Gentleness gradually escalated to deep, devouring kisses, hands grabbing and caressing, until Fleur pulled Hermione over to straddle her lap, not caring where they were as her fingers explored the skin of her back, feeling the woman's heat rocking into her abdomen.
"Veela, I hear snoring," Gabrielle remarked in Fleur's ear.
"I hear it, too," Ginny said in French in Hermione's ear before switching to English. "Agent Lion?"
The only responses were the agents' gasps and moans.
"I think you should say something. My partner's not listening," urged Ginny.
"And lose our bet about when my agent would finally bed yours?" argued Gabrielle.
"Listen, I'm in perfect agreement that these two need to fuck already, but the mark is still in the room and they need to finish the mission. We'll make a new bet, okay?"
"D'accord. But this means you'll owe me more than just another bet, Mademoiselle Harpy," teased Gabrielle. Then she yelled as loud as she could, "Agent Veela!"
"What?" replied Fleur angrily, her eyes wild as she reluctantly pulled away from the flushed brunette on top of her, seconds away from ripping off the woman's red strapless bra.
"The mission," hissed Gabrielle.
Hermione slowly came to her senses, replaying the verbal exchange in her earpiece that she had ignored. Their support teams had apparently linked comms and were trying to get their attention.
She'd screwed up.
"Pansy passed out," Hermione said, tapping Fleur on the shoulder and pointing behind her to the mark. She awkwardly got up off of Fleur's lap and began to pull her dress back up over her shoulders.
Fleur clenched her jaw, not wanting their encounter to end, but she could see Hermione's turmoil and so she said nothing.
Upset with herself and beginning to get upset with Fleur, Hermione grabbed her clutch to get that lipstick. Better safe than sorry, she thought as she approached Pansy.
::
They were nearly done staging the room. Pansy was neatly tucked into bed, an empty wine bottle laid on its side on the nightstand along with a full glass of water, and Fleur was writing a note. In it, she explained that since Pansy had passed out, Hermione didn't feel comfortable staying. As for herself, she wrote she was too much of a gentlewoman to take advantage of an inebriated woman but that she'd had a lovely time and Pansy should give her a call at the following number. This way, both spies' covers were protected, and Fleur could maintain contact with Parkinson in case mission objectives required it.
As Fleur finished writing, a nagging thought kept bothering her. Pansy had had the drive on her person. Why hadn't the Dark Witch taken it from her when they'd met earlier in the study? Did she know Pansy was under surveillance? Then why show up at all?
It didn't make sense. And Hermione's grumbling in the background was making it hard to think.
"Just spit it out, Granger."
"You didn't have to take it so far," exclaimed Hermione, standing up and turning around from where she was, having finished rummaging through the dresser.
"What?"
"In fact, you didn't have to bring me up here to begin with."
"Wait, did you not say 'You should seduce her'?"
"No," protested Hermione. "I said 'You should seduce her'."
"Merde. You're so– That's exactly what I did!"
"No! What you did was stick your tongue down my throat and pull my dress down off my shoulders."
"Et alors? We got the drive, didn't we? She could've had it anywhere in her room. But because she was so distracted by us she undressed herself and forgot she hid it in her bra. So, my way saved time. And you knew what you were getting into back at the bar."
"Your way gave me a hickey." Hermione took two steps towards the woman, pointing at the purple bruise on her neck. She'd noticed it in the mirror when she started going through the dresser.
"My way made you moan and want more," snapped Fleur, throwing down the pen and striding towards the other agent. "And that's what's really bothering you, isn't it, Granger? You liked what I did to you."
"Fuck off, Delacour."
"Don't you mean, 'fuck me'?"
"Stop putting words in my mouth."
"Well, I could put my tongue in your mouth. You made such delicious sounds when I did that."
Ginny cackled through the earpiece, and Hermione's scowl deepened.
"Not helping, Harpy," Hermione said through gritted teeth.
By this point, the two women were face to face within inches of each other. Breathing hard, their eyes flicked downward to lips and back up again, their attraction and desire coming to a head once more.
"If memory serves, you were the one who whimpered when I put my hands on you," whispered Hermione.
Fleur swallowed hard, tired of these games. "You're right. If we weren't on the job, I would've–"
"Would've what?" asked Hermione breathlessly.
"You know what I would've done."
The air was charged as they glared at each other. It would be so easy for Hermione to close the distance again. And then what? she asked herself. Did Fleur even really like her?
"But we were on the job," Hermione said, stepping back. "And we should probably leave it there."
Fleur's mouth opened, ready for a retort. Then she let out a long exhale and rolled her eyes.
"If that is your wish. Since our business is concluded, you should hand me the drive as per the terms of the agreement between our agencies."
Hermione's mouth curled into a small smile. Fleur's request had been said in a way which meant she understood that Hermione couldn't do that, and she was grateful that the woman didn't appear too angry about the situation. Still, she couldn't resist a little taunting.
"I'm sure my superiors will be happy to hand it over after they've made sure no pertinent threats to our side are present."
"That wasn't the deal," Fleur reminded her, a dangerous smile on her face. She wasn't upset. Far from it. Because she knew something Hermione didn't.
"Not my problem. If you'd focused on Parkinson, maybe you would've gotten the drive first."
"You tell her, Lion," encouraged Ginny in her ear.
Fleur's eyes narrowed yet she stayed silent.
"You're just going to let her go? But our orders," worried Gabrielle.
"Patience, little Veela," murmured Fleur under her breath, glad her sister and Agent Harpy had unlinked their comms earlier.
When they were done in the room, the two spies left and walked down the hallway to the stairs.
As they started their descent, Fleur said casually, "Until next time, Granger. Since you got what you wanted, I'm off for the Buyer. I hope your superiors enjoy the extreme lack of pertinent threats to your side."
Hermione slowed to a stop.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Fleur turned around, a few steps below the other woman. She could've said nothing and let Hermione find out later on her own, but she'd rather face her now instead of letting what she'd done fester until the next time they saw each other.
"You're not the only one that can do a swap in the heat of the moment."
Hermione brought her hands to her chest, feeling the outline of the flash drive she'd placed in her bra. But was it the one she'd taken from Pansy?
Looking back at the blonde, she noted the woman's cocky smile and the light pat over her left breast.
Delacour had won again.
But the Frenchwoman was telling her outright and there was a touch of apology mixed in with the gloat. A pang of regret hit her chest. Maybe Fleur really did like her.
Hermione was both annoyed and impressed by the woman's honesty. And maybe a little turned on as she scanned her memories, wondering when during that last heated kiss Fleur had made the switch.
"Does she mean what I think she means?" asked Ginny.
"Unfortunately," said Hermione softly.
"Bloody hell," cursed Ginny. "What do we do?"
"Nothing. It's their intelligence. We made a deal and we should stick to it." She said it loud enough for Fleur to hear, and her smile was genuine when the blonde gave her a salute and proceeded down the stairs.
::
Hermione didn't stay at the party for much longer. She made an appearance at the bar, looking a little flustered and overwhelmed as she asked for a water, and making sure the bartender noticed the hickey on her neck. Her cover was unlikely to be in jeopardy but she still had to sell the story of what had occurred just in case.
From what Fleur had said in their briefing, the information on the duplicate flash drive would be a believable replacement. Mostly real, all of it benign and reasonable to expect from a drive that an agent carelessly left in his briefcase. Neither Pansy nor the Buyer would suspect a thing.
The thought of the Buyer caused Hermione to grouse inwardly. The French had somehow gotten a lead on that person, too. Her bosses were not going to be pleased.
Finally taking her leave, Hermione exited the house and waited for the valet to bring her car. She would still have to meet up with Ginny and be debriefed by their superiors, and she was not looking forward to it.
Hearing a car approach, she turned and was surprised to see Fleur drive up.
"Need a ride?" the blonde asked.
Hermione's brow furrowed and she looked left and then right. Where was the valet with her car?
She suspiciously asked, "To where?"
Fleur tilted her head. "You want to go after the Buyer, don't you? I know who she is. Our plane leaves in two hours."
Hermione scoffed. "But you can get her yourself. Why do you need me?"
"Maybe I enjoy our little competitions. Who knows? You may even be the one to catch her."
Fleur was definitely going off-book with this invitation to the British agent, but as she left the Manor, all she could think about was that last kiss. That moment where she could feel how real it was between them. And the thought of walking away from it brought a pit to her stomach. What good was spending all this time hoping for a chance to know the woman better if she didn't take the leap when the opportunity had finally presented itself?
Hermione stared into those blue eyes she always thought of as icy. This time she saw anticipation, hope, and warmth.
"Harpy?" she asked.
"Go. Little Veela will fill me in on the way. We've still got to clean up here so we'll be a few hours behind you in case you wanted to…"
Hermione smiled. Time was usually a luxury she didn't have. But Fleur was giving her another chance after she'd bungled it in Pansy's room, and it would be nice to see where this thing with the French agent might lead.
She walked around to the passenger side of her car, opened the door and got in.
"All right, Delacour, I'm in. Who's the Buyer?" Hermione asked after she closed the car door.
"The Dark Witch."
The Dark Witch. Bellatrix Black. Notorious arms dealer. Loved to play both sides but tended to favor terrorist groups. She'd gone dark around ten years ago and during her training, Hermione had loved poring over the case files MI6 had on her, wondering what had happened. Rumors varied; some said she'd been killed, others said she was wasting away in a prison somewhere. But now she was back.
How had MI6 missed this possibility? They were at Malfoy Manor, for crying out loud. Weren't they still keeping an eye on Narcissa Malfoy, Black's younger sister?
The connection with Parkinson now made sense. She had been close to the Malfoys since she was a child. And some of her acquisitions as an art dealer had required underground contacts. Black was looking like the culprit there, too.
"And where are we going?" asked Hermione.
"Somewhere far. It'll be a long flight. Any ideas on what we can do without targets in the room or others listening in?"
Hermione smirked at the flirty proposition, the twinkling blue eyes that she was beginning to learn.
Looking ahead, she settled into her seat and reached a hand through the open slit in Fleur's dress, resting it on her thigh.
"Maybe a few," Hermione finally answered, sliding her hand a little bit higher up the Frenchwoman's leg.
Fleur smiled and put the car in gear, speeding down the long driveway towards the road, very much looking forward to whatever Hermione had in mind.
A/N: I played with a lot of different ideas with Sosh_022 where the inserted word or phrase was misheard in some way, for laughs, not intending to actually write anything. (Sure Jan) And then I wondered what if it was heard correctly but just the emphasis was changed, which grabbed me by the throat and this spy fic was born lol. Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!