*throws Starbucks coffee cup behind her back*

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ! Never have, never will. 

Voice: Yeah, so leave 'er alone pal.

*pales*

*blinks several times *

Dang coffee. 

*turns around *

Duo: *smiles*

O2: *rubs eyes* Stupid coffee.

Duo: *brings empty coffee cup to her face* You need to stop drinking these.

O2: *shrugs* What can I say. I'm a coffee addict.

Duo: *tiskes*

O2: Waaaaaaiit, how'd you..."

Duo: *smiles deviously* I know all babe.

O2: *blinks some more* Blasted coffee.

Duo: Sorry babe, not the coffee. Though maybe we should take you to rehab. After all, I really wouldn't want what happened to Heero come your wa…"

O2: HOLD IT! ONE, I'm NOT going to some caffeine addiction therapy group. Second of all, how can you compare me with Heero. That dude's a psychopath…"

Duo: *gives her knowing look*

O2: WHAT!

Duo: *gives another knowing look*

O2: *looks stupefied* But that…

Duo: *continues with look*

O2: *snaps out of it* Hold it yet again. Just what are you doing here.

Duo: Well, ya see. The guys and I decided our skills were getting dulled with our current jobs…

O2: Which are…

Duo: *gives mild Heero Death Glare®* Anyway…

O2: *rolls eyes*

Duo: *clears throat* As I was saying, so we picked out some, um…

O2: *hisses* Victims…

Duo: Yes… er, no…

O2: HAHA! Guess that Burger King wasn't working for ya huh, G-boy.

Duo: NO! That's not it… Say, how did you know that.

O2: *smiles evilly* I have my ways… *hisses* babe.

Duo: *growls* OKAY! OKAY! I got sick of 'May I take your order', and 'Would you like fries with that'. I swear if I had to deal with one more old lady paying in 5 bucks worth a pennies I was gonna killlllll someone/thing.

O2: *stares at twitching Duo*

Duo: *still twitching*

O2: Okay… But that still doesn't explain why you're here… with me might I add.

Duo: *gains composure* Eh, I needed someone to stalk.

O2: *o.O* Why ME!

Duo: *smiles playfully* You're pretty cute shorty.

O2: *face faults*

        ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's always been automatic for me. Sticking one foot in front of the other and moving, that is. I've always seemed to stare straight ahead as well, back straight, even stare; so everything should have been clear, right?

I was always supposed to know where I was going, what I was doing, and what was up next.

But I didn't.

That was the thing.

So now as I was headed for a new assignment, or more precisely to be yelled at for my last; I contemplated where this turn in my life had taken place. Maybe it was after the arranged marriage my parents had made. I'd taken that rather well when I thought about it. Being stunned for two days and then just excepting it like the mustard on my sandwich I didn't want but would eat anyway. Bad analogy, I liked mustard, on any sandwich.

No, it couldn't have been after that, or the fact that it turned out to be one of my best friends I'd be 'balled and chained' to. Poor guy, actually. He was forced into it physically. And then there was the fact he was threatened with loosing everything he'd ever worked for if he didn't, which I later on found out about.

I don't think it was the fact that I saw him with another woman by his side about three hours before the wedding.

Another shocker.

I accepted that as well, despite the fact I felt a little 'betrayed' if you would.

I at least expected him to be faithful for the two years we'd be married, live in the same house, different rooms of course, and then divorce. It had all been planned out between the two of us.

I hadn't expected him to love me, or even care for me for that matter.

But I did expect his trust, and I expect him not to throw mine out either.

No, it was all those things. I'd scene too much in my short life, I'd been controlled too much in my short life, that I guess I lost my logical sense. I was nearly eighteen when I was nearly married off, that's too young.

I still think I had finally snapped.

I packed up and left.

I left both of our parents at the wedding.

I left my parents' family and friends at the wedding.

I left his parents' family and friends at the wedding.

I left him at the alter. I left him waiting for what I later found out from a newspaper, I'd made the front page, that everyone waited for nearly two hours before it was decided I'd split.

I was long gone by then.

But everyone else thinks luck handed me to them in a hand basket.

Two days of roaming in a haze, I'd missed forty-eight hours of my life. From what I heard was that after a random stranger nearly died and I randomly walked upon the scene; and randomly mutilated the globe's most wanted murderer therefore randomly saving the stranger's life, here I am. Of course you have to add a random four years later to that equation but you still get now.

Yes, I joined the government. Well an organization of the government if you would.

Yeah, Marron Chestnut, secret agent.

Never thought it would happen.

Tuning in to my surroundings I heard purposely heavy footsteps behind me.

Mitchel.

Stupid partner.

I still didn't understand why I had one.

Letting an inaudible growl escape I sped up a little.

"Come on McCaw, ease up," his voice was deep, thick as wax, and with the tone of fire.

He was determined, I'd give him that.

"What do you want?"

I couldn't help but hiss coldly, he had irritated me.

He got my point; he was sharp enough for that.

He gave off a nervous intake of breath.

I couldn't help but growl.

"Mitchel, I said leave me alone about it."

I turned around after stopping from the paced walk.

His six and a half foot frame stood tall over my own five foot five. Amused olive green eyes that didn't exactly pierce in intensity stared at me with just a hint of amusement.

He always found my irritation funny. 

I glared at the broad shoulders that held the baggy shirt, moderate muscle sculptured underneath. Bleach-blonde hair, which believe it or not was natural, looked tangled and unruly as it hung shoulder length. His olive skin seemed to glow with constant sweat, though I'd never tell him that. I nearly kicked his pants to see if he had legs under there. Perhaps the only thing that had ever actually bothered me with his appearance, was the constant black like stubble that was the beginnings of a full beard.

"Hey, you okay?"

He was sincere.

Too bad.

"You need to start dressing your age."

He raised a blonde eyebrow at me.

"Something bothering you?"

Stupid partner.

A sly smirk crossed his thin lips.

"Come on, I'm your partner."

I wanted to smack him. But knowing my strength, I'd twist his neck all the way around.

"You wouldn't understand."

It unfortunately came out in a whisper and a little too cold for my liking.

To avoid more conversation, I started an even faster pace towards my destination.

He walked faster. When he was about to say something; the hustle and noise of ringing phones, clicking keys, screaming people, and many other things assaulted our ears.

I walked in, the high-powered lamps above blinding me temporarily.

The room was filled to the brim with desks, computers, TV screens, and other sorts of equipment. The metal in the room was bitter cold, but the lights and the heat created by bodies filled the room with an unpleasant stuffiness.

"MCCAW!"

I glared at the middle aged, heavyset man that walked my way. A wool suit of a gray scheme covered his medium height frame. His cocoa skin was oily from sweat and his chin and sides were growing whiskers.

He'd been here for a couple of days.

"JUST WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!"

I cringed inwardly, he didn't have to yell.

I came to a complete stop and gently placed my hands in a crossed position in the front of me.

I couldn't help but glare back.

He stopped about a foot in front of me, raised an eyebrow, and then growled.

"Something you wanted to discuss?"

He froze at the ice in my tone, but stared daggers in return.

"What's with these reports!"

Raised to his eye level were several vanilla folders. His hand almost had them gripped in a fist, wrinkles spreading up.

I just stared.

"THESE ARE PURPOSTURIOUS!"

He threw them at me, expecting them to just fly everywhere. And once again he'd forgotten, I was quicker.

I reached up to grip them with one hand, giving a warning glare in response. 

"Care to tell me why?"

The older man paused, slight fear flashing in his features. He licked his lips, regaining his composure… somewhat.

"It's nice that you got have the crew out alive, but it doesn't register that one burly man was able to destroy the whole base with…"

He trailed off, apparently trying to remember how I had written the description that he'd read. I truly doubted he could picture it.

"I'm aware it makes no sense," I shook my head the slightest. "But he did shoot energy from his hands."

He swallowed, I could feel the heat from him increase.

Dropping his angered mood, he turned around, starting to walk away.

I nearly rolled my eyes but followed.

"Listen McCaw, I've been here 48 hours straight, Tig won't get off ma back bout it and these reports are outta wack."

He stopped, and I stopped too.

He swung around.

"Though this makes no logical sense, I can't just shrug id off."

Despite his disbelief, it came from me. I had enough respect that when if came to man, anything I said couldn't, wouldn't, be ignored.

"Thanks Higs," I gave a smirk, though it was probably cold. I'd given up trying to look warm.

I turned around, walking away.

I felt the scowl more than saw it.

Mitchel once again was being difficult.

"I hate that man," he hissed.

I turned a full turn to face him.

A thing with Mitchel's behavior was that he always required attention in one way or another.

"I thought it was Tig."

He averted his gaze from the once retreating figure to my eyes, searching again for a sign or something. He always did that.

"That was last week."

He seemed to growl it out.

I only stared.

I knew he wanted me to take it further, and once again I gave in. Who ever said I wasn't a push over?

"Shawle deny a raise?"

His scowl deepened, his eyes glaring at the floor.

Now he was just acting like a stubborn child.

He brought his gaze back up to me, searching my eyes again.

"Get over it Mitchel," I hissed.

He swallowed hard.

Angry now, I walked past him, heading out.

Several desks went by before I heard my alias name called.

"AMY!"

Stopping in my tracks I turned around.

"What Jack?" I asked coldly, walking toward him at a moderate pace.

The thin man, in his early twenties, paled at my facial expression. The pupils in his ice blue eyes became the size of pins behind his thin-rimmed glasses. His ruffled black hair was matted down with sweat, and his tie from his suit had been undone.

I couldn't help but wince, I always tried to look anywhere but at those eyes.

"I, uh, well, um…"

His voice held that of youth.

"Yes," I encouraged in a cold tone, though nothing new. 

His stuttering was starting to agitate me.

"I, I got those security discs you asked for."

He was smiling sheepishly.

"Thanks," was my dulled voice.

He turned around to his desk, crouching down and digging through a drawer.

With my patience running thin from my anger, studied the contents of his desk.It was then I spotted an unfortunately familiar face on the cover of a magazine that was on top of the numerous mountains of papers on the surface of his desk.

I clenched my jaw to prevent it from going slack.

From somewhere in my vision, I saw Jack stand up with two reflective discs in his hand, grinning madly.

It dropped though, when he noticed my attention occupied by something else. He followed my gaze to his side and saw his magazine.

"Oh, yeah, bought this from the stands this morning. That Briefs is pretty popular."

I gave it my full attention, purposely not looking up.

"Uh, you can have it if you want."

Having heard these words, and using movements faster than that of normal, I grabbed the piece of literature from his desk, and was now several feet from his place. Walking toward the exit of the POC.

"HEY AMES, you forgot your…"

I never heard the rest, I wanted my sanctuary. And I wanted it now.

                   ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

O2: Okay, tell me what ya think. That means R&R.

*falls on her butt as ground starts shaking*

O2: Whyyyyyyyyy iiiiiissssss ttttthhheeeeeeerrrrreeeeeeee annnnnnnnnn eeeeearrrtttthqqquaaake? Iyiyiyiyi dddiidnnn't orrrrrrrdddddder oooonnne.

*Duo's gundam appears*

O2: *blinks*

*mobile hatch opens reveling the braided pilot *

Duo: Yeah, and if you don't, The God Of Death® iz gonna getcha.

O2: *blinks*

Gundam: *has scythe aimed at readers *

O2: DUO!

Duo: *turns attention to authoress* Ya call me babe?

O2: *twitches* Ya know, ya really irritating me.

Duo: What'd ya say babe?

O2: *sweatdrops* Never mind.

Duo: *blinks innocently*

O2: It just had to be a former assassin. Nope, couldn'ta had a plumber. Just had ta have…