Disclaimer: Don't own nada...there's a little Spanish to keep you on your
toes, people. And the only blood around here that will be shed is the
one's evoked by the CIA Sands and his partner, HA HA you thought I'd
give away the name, not yet dears! But thank you for the reviews, did you
know I almost didn't continue this fic? Sacrilege I know!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She smiled as she walked down the hallway. She could practically feel his gaze drilling into her ass. She switched her hips more pronounced than ever.
"Do you have any idea just where the hell you're going?" Came the smoky caress of a voice behind her.
"I'm sure if I wander around a bit more I'll find my way into the restricted zone or somesuch............" She muttered vaguely.
Her partner came up beside her. "Well, the Restricted Area is thata way where we keep the dead bodies," he said pointing to the left.
She cracked a smile and nodded, "Could kind of guess by the huge ass sign on the door that says 'RESTRICTED'"
"We are supposed to meet Ag. Bradley," he said pressing her against the door to her right and reaching around her to twist the door knob, "in here."
She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. It had been thirty minutes at best since she'd once again come face to face with Sexy and he was already trying to get into her pants. Nice.
An irritated cough sounded behind them, "Agents, if you would quit screwing around and come join us............"
Glancing over her shoulder she finally let the laugh loose seeing the expression on her superior's face, "Keep your pants on, Slick," she gently mollified the tight shirt stiff Bradley, "we just took a little detour."
Bradley straightened his tie as he showed them to a table.
"You're luggage." Was his explanation.
Opening the case she found all the assortment of clothes she had in her closet. They had probably cleaned out her apartment to get them, "I like." She did, these guys were good.
"Open the top." Bradley commented with a slight wink.
Doing so she cooed, "I REALLY like! Alright! Santa came early!" She exclaimed taking out a huge Hawkseye. Her favorite gun, "And I thought I was only getting coal this year."
"Why do I get the fucking small one?" Her new partner all but whined, looking in his own bag.
She smothered a snort.
"What do you find so funny?" He asked her dangerously.
Approaching him calmly she took the gun from him. It was VERY small. "It's not the size that counts, cherie," she purred in his ear, "it's how you handle it. The question is CAN you handle it?"
"You bet your tits I can handle it." He smirked.
"Good then, you'll be able to HANDLE it when you don't get any, wise ass."
Smirking she dropped the gun in his hand and turned away. She heard him softly growl in irritation.
"Focus people." Bradley barked, "This is no time to get laid, do that on your own fucking watch, because we don't have time for this shit. We have an assignment. Come on." And stalking away he led them to the garage.
Turning on the large overhead lights, Bradley looked on like a father giving his girl a sweet sixteen present, while she squealed and launched herself at the awaiting brand new silver Furrari.
"Whoa." Her partner remarked.
"Get in." Bradley ordered, "You're late as it is, we can't afford many more delays."
"Destination?" She asked as she slid in. God the feeling was better than sex. Well, she stole a glance at her partner as he got in beside her, almost. She felt like a kitten in front of a fire with a bowl of cream.
"L.A."
"We're a couple of bitches, babe." She turned to Mr. Sexy, and informed him, "Ain't no place like the city of Lost Angels. Be like going home, sweet. Our kind of town." Turning her head back to Bradley, she asked, "How fast this thing go, huh?"
"Shit." The agent next to her muttered as he grabbed the seat belt. Smirking she waited for Bradley's answer.
"Well it goes to a hundred sixty............"
Her smile widened.
It could be said she tried to kill Agent Bradley that day as she nearly ran over him. In her own defense she always said he had simply been in her way.
~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~
The road had been under them for a while before she broke the silence.
"So.............what's your name chico?"
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the quick jerk of his head as he peered at her.
"Oh no you don't," he warned, "I asked you first."
She sighed. She hated explaining herself. That's why she loved the shirt of hers that read, 'Don't Ask' She'd wear it tomorrow for his benefit if the bastards had remembered to pack it when they went through her stuff.
"I don't have a name really." She murmured.
"Give me a fucking break."
"Look, asshole..........it's been years since I've used my real name. I've been many people since then. That comes with the job description. One name's just about as good as another these days."
"How about Carla?"
"Hell no."
"So what do I call you then? I mean, I have to have something good to scream when we fuck."
Her grip on the wheel relaxed as she felt a laugh untighten her coiled muscles, "Highly unlikely, sweets."
"In five hours if not less." He continued defensively.
She swung an amused glance at him skeptically. You wish your buns you could.
"Scouts honor." He pledged raising a hand in oath.
She bit her bottom lip as an entertaining idea danced through her brain, "How about this," she began, "I'll tell you my real name the morning after I make love to you."
Her partner's brow rose.
"For now," she added her Cheshire Cat grin resting heavily on her lips, "you can call me Anne."
He made a face, "Why Anne?"
"Why not? Alright shmarty pants, what does a guy like you call himself?"
"The best."
She pinned him with a glare.
"If you want to get technical or very personal," he remarked slyly, "you can call me Sands."
"What kind of screwed up name is Sands?" She quipped sharply.
"I don't know the exact origion of my name, but is sure is a helluva lot better than Anne."
She made a psh sound in her throat, "Sands."
"Anne." He said in the same mocking tarty way, flipping her off with a smile.
"Yuck. Our names are all rhymey, like some Dr. Suess novel on crack." Anne gagged in disgust.
"Fucking God," Sands muttered in barely veiled horror, "they are."
"That's got to change." She warned.
"Good, we start with your name then."
"Go to hell."
Sands smirked in a very calm way that made her think he would try to make good on his bet sometime that day. Truth be told she wasn't really planning on holding up her end of the bargain.
"Tomorrow then?" He asked, trying to set a later date since it didn't look like she was gonna be handing over the goods anytime soon...........soon enough for him that was.
She smirked, "Hey Sparky, just remember what I told you back at HQ."
"Which was?"
"Business first, pleasure later."
"Fuck business, sweetheart, and as a matter of fact fuck pleasure too."
She merely smiled as she took an exit to the left.
"Where exactly are we going?" He asked.
"A friends." Anne replied succinctly.
"Since when do agents have friends?"
"Since they ran out of one night stands." She shot the barb at him happily but he merely brushed it away as if it were fluff.
"That's crazy talk. You can never run out of those."
"Reason #2: She's the best at what she does." She informed him.
"Blow jobs?" Sands asked leaning closer in interest.
"She gets information from people one way or another."
"And just how does she do that?"
"Torture."
"Jesus. The other?"
"Over excess of pleasure."
"Wow, every man's dream."
"Thought you'd like her."
"So that's a yes to the blow jobs?"
Anne just shook her head laughing.
"Does she have a name and if so is it a crappy one?"
Anne sighed, "Faith. Her name is Faith."
~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~
She had met Faith five years ago. The autumn after saving Sands cute butt, she had gone on vacation to Ireland. It had been as close to fate as she had ever known, when Faith and she had ended up in the same pub. She for a good time (and where else would she have gone for a good time if not a pub?) and Faith, an assignment.
So Anne had been at the bar throwing back a few welcome drinks with even more welcome mean. Needless to say when the wee hours of the morning had rolled around she was off-her-ass-in-another-world-drunk. She had been easy fame for a man when he took her to a side alley. It's funny, she had seen the fun but hadn't understood, it didn't click in her brain. She had only laughed at the time.
That's when Faith had showed up. The outfit had almost outdone her own. Black leather pants and a blood red halter, leather jacket over that. Her dark, wavy brown hair looked black with only the distant light from the street to prove otherwise. Her green eyes had danced.
"Hey, can a third party join?" She asked stalking toward them.
"Go away girl, we're busy." The man snapped, panicked.
Anne had giggled gleefully, still under the influence of several liquors.
"Busy havin' fun, I'd say." Faith had purred, "Come on even girls like having that. I think there's a song about it actually." She had somehow disentangled the man's hands from Annes hair and was pressed closely against him, "So, whatchya say? Can I have some fun?"
"Yeah." The man had groaned .
"Good."
Faith had snapped his neck. Simple as that. Anne remembered she had laughed again.
"Man, you're really done it, aren't ya," Faith had asked glancing over her thoughtfully, "Agent Cunumn?"
That had cleared Anne up in a jiffy, "Ex-agent Cunumn. Who the fuck are you?"
"Agent Delforth. But those who know me best, the one's I ain't killed yet call me Faith."
Anne knew who she was. She had been the youngest agent till she herself had come along.
"Fuck my ass, what are you doing here?" She asked grasping her head just now realizing the massive pain in her head.
"My job. What's your excuse for being here?"
"Retirement." Anne had mumbled back.
Faith had laughed a good long one. "Hun, you ain't ever gonna have a real retirement, not in our line of work. There is no fucking out of this business for people like us. Killers. This is just temporary, sweetcheeks, so don't get to cozy."
"I don't think I could," She admitted, "I love it too damn much."
Faith had grinned, "Which part: shooting people or screwing around."
"That's easy, shooting people."
"I know just the place where we can do both."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been the first of many days as Faith's friend. After that they had decided to prolong the vacation overseas indefinitely for about three years, then about a year ago both traveled back to the old US of A after Faith's cover had gotten blown and Anne had had another bad relationship crash and burn. Damn Kamakazi Romance.
Anne found herself drumming her nails on the wheel as they pulled in front of a house that was by no means a match box. Tow years, how much had Faith changed in that time?
"She sounds like a handful." Sands said popping open his door as she did the same.
"She is," she admitted, "if you can ever get your hands on her." They walked up the steps to the mansion.
His brow rose, "A challenge? Or is this just a diversion to keep me from finding out your real name?"
She smirked, knocking rapidly on the door.
"Cuase it this is the bait," he continued, "I'm not fucking biting the line."
Anne knocked again louder.
"Yeah, yeah!" Came the exasperated and irritated mutter from beyond the door, "What doya want?!" The knob turned, "Get some clothes on sugar, we got company..........."
The door opened and Anne knew nothing had changed.
"Hey there Faith, babes."
There was a moment of silence.
"You fucking bitch!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She smiled as she walked down the hallway. She could practically feel his gaze drilling into her ass. She switched her hips more pronounced than ever.
"Do you have any idea just where the hell you're going?" Came the smoky caress of a voice behind her.
"I'm sure if I wander around a bit more I'll find my way into the restricted zone or somesuch............" She muttered vaguely.
Her partner came up beside her. "Well, the Restricted Area is thata way where we keep the dead bodies," he said pointing to the left.
She cracked a smile and nodded, "Could kind of guess by the huge ass sign on the door that says 'RESTRICTED'"
"We are supposed to meet Ag. Bradley," he said pressing her against the door to her right and reaching around her to twist the door knob, "in here."
She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. It had been thirty minutes at best since she'd once again come face to face with Sexy and he was already trying to get into her pants. Nice.
An irritated cough sounded behind them, "Agents, if you would quit screwing around and come join us............"
Glancing over her shoulder she finally let the laugh loose seeing the expression on her superior's face, "Keep your pants on, Slick," she gently mollified the tight shirt stiff Bradley, "we just took a little detour."
Bradley straightened his tie as he showed them to a table.
"You're luggage." Was his explanation.
Opening the case she found all the assortment of clothes she had in her closet. They had probably cleaned out her apartment to get them, "I like." She did, these guys were good.
"Open the top." Bradley commented with a slight wink.
Doing so she cooed, "I REALLY like! Alright! Santa came early!" She exclaimed taking out a huge Hawkseye. Her favorite gun, "And I thought I was only getting coal this year."
"Why do I get the fucking small one?" Her new partner all but whined, looking in his own bag.
She smothered a snort.
"What do you find so funny?" He asked her dangerously.
Approaching him calmly she took the gun from him. It was VERY small. "It's not the size that counts, cherie," she purred in his ear, "it's how you handle it. The question is CAN you handle it?"
"You bet your tits I can handle it." He smirked.
"Good then, you'll be able to HANDLE it when you don't get any, wise ass."
Smirking she dropped the gun in his hand and turned away. She heard him softly growl in irritation.
"Focus people." Bradley barked, "This is no time to get laid, do that on your own fucking watch, because we don't have time for this shit. We have an assignment. Come on." And stalking away he led them to the garage.
Turning on the large overhead lights, Bradley looked on like a father giving his girl a sweet sixteen present, while she squealed and launched herself at the awaiting brand new silver Furrari.
"Whoa." Her partner remarked.
"Get in." Bradley ordered, "You're late as it is, we can't afford many more delays."
"Destination?" She asked as she slid in. God the feeling was better than sex. Well, she stole a glance at her partner as he got in beside her, almost. She felt like a kitten in front of a fire with a bowl of cream.
"L.A."
"We're a couple of bitches, babe." She turned to Mr. Sexy, and informed him, "Ain't no place like the city of Lost Angels. Be like going home, sweet. Our kind of town." Turning her head back to Bradley, she asked, "How fast this thing go, huh?"
"Shit." The agent next to her muttered as he grabbed the seat belt. Smirking she waited for Bradley's answer.
"Well it goes to a hundred sixty............"
Her smile widened.
It could be said she tried to kill Agent Bradley that day as she nearly ran over him. In her own defense she always said he had simply been in her way.
~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~
The road had been under them for a while before she broke the silence.
"So.............what's your name chico?"
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the quick jerk of his head as he peered at her.
"Oh no you don't," he warned, "I asked you first."
She sighed. She hated explaining herself. That's why she loved the shirt of hers that read, 'Don't Ask' She'd wear it tomorrow for his benefit if the bastards had remembered to pack it when they went through her stuff.
"I don't have a name really." She murmured.
"Give me a fucking break."
"Look, asshole..........it's been years since I've used my real name. I've been many people since then. That comes with the job description. One name's just about as good as another these days."
"How about Carla?"
"Hell no."
"So what do I call you then? I mean, I have to have something good to scream when we fuck."
Her grip on the wheel relaxed as she felt a laugh untighten her coiled muscles, "Highly unlikely, sweets."
"In five hours if not less." He continued defensively.
She swung an amused glance at him skeptically. You wish your buns you could.
"Scouts honor." He pledged raising a hand in oath.
She bit her bottom lip as an entertaining idea danced through her brain, "How about this," she began, "I'll tell you my real name the morning after I make love to you."
Her partner's brow rose.
"For now," she added her Cheshire Cat grin resting heavily on her lips, "you can call me Anne."
He made a face, "Why Anne?"
"Why not? Alright shmarty pants, what does a guy like you call himself?"
"The best."
She pinned him with a glare.
"If you want to get technical or very personal," he remarked slyly, "you can call me Sands."
"What kind of screwed up name is Sands?" She quipped sharply.
"I don't know the exact origion of my name, but is sure is a helluva lot better than Anne."
She made a psh sound in her throat, "Sands."
"Anne." He said in the same mocking tarty way, flipping her off with a smile.
"Yuck. Our names are all rhymey, like some Dr. Suess novel on crack." Anne gagged in disgust.
"Fucking God," Sands muttered in barely veiled horror, "they are."
"That's got to change." She warned.
"Good, we start with your name then."
"Go to hell."
Sands smirked in a very calm way that made her think he would try to make good on his bet sometime that day. Truth be told she wasn't really planning on holding up her end of the bargain.
"Tomorrow then?" He asked, trying to set a later date since it didn't look like she was gonna be handing over the goods anytime soon...........soon enough for him that was.
She smirked, "Hey Sparky, just remember what I told you back at HQ."
"Which was?"
"Business first, pleasure later."
"Fuck business, sweetheart, and as a matter of fact fuck pleasure too."
She merely smiled as she took an exit to the left.
"Where exactly are we going?" He asked.
"A friends." Anne replied succinctly.
"Since when do agents have friends?"
"Since they ran out of one night stands." She shot the barb at him happily but he merely brushed it away as if it were fluff.
"That's crazy talk. You can never run out of those."
"Reason #2: She's the best at what she does." She informed him.
"Blow jobs?" Sands asked leaning closer in interest.
"She gets information from people one way or another."
"And just how does she do that?"
"Torture."
"Jesus. The other?"
"Over excess of pleasure."
"Wow, every man's dream."
"Thought you'd like her."
"So that's a yes to the blow jobs?"
Anne just shook her head laughing.
"Does she have a name and if so is it a crappy one?"
Anne sighed, "Faith. Her name is Faith."
~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~
She had met Faith five years ago. The autumn after saving Sands cute butt, she had gone on vacation to Ireland. It had been as close to fate as she had ever known, when Faith and she had ended up in the same pub. She for a good time (and where else would she have gone for a good time if not a pub?) and Faith, an assignment.
So Anne had been at the bar throwing back a few welcome drinks with even more welcome mean. Needless to say when the wee hours of the morning had rolled around she was off-her-ass-in-another-world-drunk. She had been easy fame for a man when he took her to a side alley. It's funny, she had seen the fun but hadn't understood, it didn't click in her brain. She had only laughed at the time.
That's when Faith had showed up. The outfit had almost outdone her own. Black leather pants and a blood red halter, leather jacket over that. Her dark, wavy brown hair looked black with only the distant light from the street to prove otherwise. Her green eyes had danced.
"Hey, can a third party join?" She asked stalking toward them.
"Go away girl, we're busy." The man snapped, panicked.
Anne had giggled gleefully, still under the influence of several liquors.
"Busy havin' fun, I'd say." Faith had purred, "Come on even girls like having that. I think there's a song about it actually." She had somehow disentangled the man's hands from Annes hair and was pressed closely against him, "So, whatchya say? Can I have some fun?"
"Yeah." The man had groaned .
"Good."
Faith had snapped his neck. Simple as that. Anne remembered she had laughed again.
"Man, you're really done it, aren't ya," Faith had asked glancing over her thoughtfully, "Agent Cunumn?"
That had cleared Anne up in a jiffy, "Ex-agent Cunumn. Who the fuck are you?"
"Agent Delforth. But those who know me best, the one's I ain't killed yet call me Faith."
Anne knew who she was. She had been the youngest agent till she herself had come along.
"Fuck my ass, what are you doing here?" She asked grasping her head just now realizing the massive pain in her head.
"My job. What's your excuse for being here?"
"Retirement." Anne had mumbled back.
Faith had laughed a good long one. "Hun, you ain't ever gonna have a real retirement, not in our line of work. There is no fucking out of this business for people like us. Killers. This is just temporary, sweetcheeks, so don't get to cozy."
"I don't think I could," She admitted, "I love it too damn much."
Faith had grinned, "Which part: shooting people or screwing around."
"That's easy, shooting people."
"I know just the place where we can do both."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been the first of many days as Faith's friend. After that they had decided to prolong the vacation overseas indefinitely for about three years, then about a year ago both traveled back to the old US of A after Faith's cover had gotten blown and Anne had had another bad relationship crash and burn. Damn Kamakazi Romance.
Anne found herself drumming her nails on the wheel as they pulled in front of a house that was by no means a match box. Tow years, how much had Faith changed in that time?
"She sounds like a handful." Sands said popping open his door as she did the same.
"She is," she admitted, "if you can ever get your hands on her." They walked up the steps to the mansion.
His brow rose, "A challenge? Or is this just a diversion to keep me from finding out your real name?"
She smirked, knocking rapidly on the door.
"Cuase it this is the bait," he continued, "I'm not fucking biting the line."
Anne knocked again louder.
"Yeah, yeah!" Came the exasperated and irritated mutter from beyond the door, "What doya want?!" The knob turned, "Get some clothes on sugar, we got company..........."
The door opened and Anne knew nothing had changed.
"Hey there Faith, babes."
There was a moment of silence.
"You fucking bitch!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*