"B-but I - I had you fooled. I fooled everyone. I played the part perfectly. I followed all the rules. I don't underst . . . How could you not . . . But . . ." Lauren's doughy, umm, doe-y eyes turned from tears to perplexity. "I must have skipped a step."

She began to count off on her fingers the rules to getting super-spy secrets through marriage. Her face scrunched together at number 32, "lap dance".

"What was the next step?" She thought vacantly unaware that anyone could hear her, despite the fact that she was speaking aloud.

"Pregnancy?" Vaughn suggested dryly.

"Oh drats! I knew I forgot something. That came directly before declaration of love and right after sex in an elevator. Or was it on a pool table? Oh fudge. Sex on something odd, and that was directly in front of strip tease/lap dance."

Lauren's eyes widened as she realized Vaughn was watching her with a skeptical smirk.

"Whoops. That was classified information. I'd be much obliged if you didn't divulge this little tale to my superiors."

"Sure. I won't tell your superiors. Not that it'd matter. You're probably in good standing with all of them. Or, should I say, laying." The sarcasm fled from Vaughn's voice as he continued, "I think we skipped quite a few steps, Lauren. I don't suppose it matters though, you really don't even have the A-cup for a proper lap dance."

Ms. Reed blinked trying to decide if he was insulting her before deciding that he was teasing. After all, who could insult the perfect Lauren Reed? She stepped forward slowly, sensuously. Lauren lowered her eyes and bit her low lip, softly placing her hand on his chest, toying with the buttons of his shirt.

"Surely you don't mean that, dear?" She whimpered.

A look of disgust crossed Vaughn's face as he grabbed her hand and wrenched it off of his chest. "You're kidding me, Lauren. I'm not stupid. I'm too fucking loyal, but now I see there was no need to be. Crap, I should have just slept with Sydney when I had the chance."

Lauren stepped back as if she had been burned by the heat of his vehement words. "I-I don't know what to say. I thought you loved me. You don't. You never have. No one ever has. All of my life I've been used and lied to, but know one has ever loved me. My own fucking father was too tied up in his shit in D.C. My mother just screwed him over while demanding I be a perfect little spy trainee. Sark just views me as a good fuck. No - one - loves - me." She broke down sobbing.

Vaughn ignored the tiny ping of pity he felt and started for the door.

"Where are you going? Are you leaving me?" Lauren cried out through her tears.

"Out. I need to talk to some people about some things." Vaughn replied vaguely. He wrenched the door open and took a step outside. He looked back at the pitiful blob that was Lauren. "And for the record, if you stopped focusing on yourself and got some fucking therapy, maybe someone could love you. Honestly, you're just too fucked up right now." Vaughn strode away leaving just the sound of a slamming door behind him.

Lauren abruptly stopped crying and pulled out her covenant issued cell phone. She quickly dialed. "He just left me."

Sark had pulled out his cell phone in the middle of it's rendition of "Stronger". (Perhaps he's overcompensating?) He listened, nodded, and replied to the other end. "Good. It's about time. My place or yours tonight?"

"Yours. But, Sarkykins, he thinks your small."

"Well, Lauren. I am shorter than most guys my age. It's not a big deal. We'll just kidnap him and beat him up."

"No, Sark. I mean, Vaughn thinks you're really really tiny." Lauren stressed.

"That's not fair of him. I'm not a full-backer thingy-magigg-fuck. I'm not a rugby player. Well, some are small, but you know what I mean."

"Sark, Listen to me. Vaughn thinks that your . . .manhood is so tiny it's non-existent." Lauren's exclamation was met with silence. "this is the time you get angry and go grab your brass knuckles."

"You know I work better with a knife." Lauren smiled at the memories of the "practice" they had done last week with the knife. Who knew leather cut away so easily? The couch will be forever ruined.

"Perhaps we should have taken the knifes off before we reenacted the Madonna, "Like a Virgin" video."

Sark continued his speech. "But, have we ever measured, darling?"

"Oh, no, dear, I don't believe we have. Perhaps we should try that sometimes. Tonight. I'll bring the rope, er, measuring tape."

"Hmm. Good girl, but I really don't want to play "puppet" today. The Pinocchio nose rather hurts after a while." Sark paused to listen to Lauren's non-verbal whine. "You still always know how to please me."

Lauren perked back up. "Of course I do." her voice lowered to a husky whisper. "As long as you don't forget the whipped cream, we shan't have a problem."

"And if I forget?" Sark growled sexily, smiling despite the growing, yet tiny bulge in his pants.

"Then you'd be a naughty boy, and I'd have to punish you."

"Don't tempt me." Sark groaned as he looked down at the very obviousness of his fierce erection. "Perhaps you could come over now and show me exactly how you plan on punishing me?"

"Sounds like my baby needs a cold shower. Don't worry. There will be plenty of time to play "Bad Puppet" later."

"Righty-O. My place. Tonight."

Lauren and Sark clicked their phones shut simultaneously.

-

Eric Weiss opened the door unexpectedly causing Vaughn to fall through the portal upon which he had been leaning and into Weiss' apartment.

"Dude, why are you here?"

"I need advise. I wanted to talk to Syd, but I don't know how. Lauren's a spy for the covenant. Sark has a really tiny dick. I need Sydney, but -"

"Wait, Sark is how small?"

"He's really really really tiny. Can't be more than three and a half. Anyway, I need Sydney, but what do I say? 'Hey, Syd -'"

"You're kidding me, three point five? That's impossible." Weiss interrupted again.

"Well, the average is only like four inches. So it's possible. Just not likely. Plus, that's when it's flaccid. Anyway, So I say, 'Sydney, wassup? Now that I -'"

"I always figured he was overcompensating for something. I mean, the clothes were a dead give away. Who really wears all that expensive black?"

"Sark. OK. Now, back to me. 'Syd, Now that I know my wife is a traitorous bastard, want to go get pizza and have sex as we wait for the divorce to go through?'"

"Well, that may not be the best approach. My advise is to stay away from anything that sounds like I would say it," Eric commented cautiously.

"Right. So should I go with the, 'Syd, I'm an asshole. I don't deserve you.' approach?"

"Well, that might work."

"How about, 'You're a much better lover than Lauren could ever be. Screw me now."

"Well, man, I'd advise against that one. It's a little to cave man-ish. How about the 'I've messed up big time. I don't deserve you, and I don't want you to just be the rebound girl. Let's just be friends until things get sorted out.' approach."

"I don't know. I don't even know what I'm saying Just tell me what I need to say to her. If I screw this up I lose my only reason for living. If I can't have her, I don't want anybody or anything else. I need her. She's like air. I didn't realize how dead I was until she came back. Slowly my body regained sensations. I started to be able to feel again. When I'm touching her, kissing her, or even just listening or looking at her, it's like the clouds parted and I can 'see the light' as cliché as it sounds."

"Wow . . ." Weiss began, but Vaughn interrupted.

"She is the goddess of my idolatry. I need her. I-I love her." Vaughn finally ran out of words to speak his emotions. He slid down to the floor and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what to do, Weiss. I love her. I really do, but I've made such a mess of things. I should just leave it. She hates me."

"Wow, man, that was deep. . . You need to talk to her."

"I would, but she'll never listen to me."

"If Sydney won't listen to you, force her. We'll find a way. She may not take you back right away, but you've got to try. You've got to give her a chance to talk, too. You can't just give up and not tell her any of this. You'd just take away her chances. Enough people have done that to her already."

"You're right, Weiss."

-

Sydney stood outside with a pizza box. She lowered her left hand where it had been poised to knock on Weiss' semi-opened door. 'He loves me. I'm Vaughn's air. He hates her. He knows she's a spy. Sark has a really small dick. I always figured he was overcompensating for something. That accent, seriously. Who is he kidding? Vaughn loves me. I'm his air. I'm 21% oxygen - Vaughn's air.' Sydney jumped randomly between thoughts in her chaotic mind. She tried desperately to store all of the things that had happened in a box in her mind so she could review them later.

Syd's eyes widened as the conversation inside ceased, and the sound of footsteps permeated the air. She backed away, still staring at the door.

A hand grasped the door knob on the other side. "I'm going to find her, Weiss. I can't wait." Vaughn's voice drifted out into the cool night air."

Sydney, suddenly unfrozen from her trance, dropped the pizza and ran.

-

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(A/N: Next Ch. = Kinky Bad Spy sex, Good Spy Fluff and relationships, and lots of "steps". I'm also looking for a beta reader. E-mail me.)

NEED TO KNOW TO UNDERSTAND THIS STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Note: not my personal opinions . . .

The 12 Steps to Intimacy
1. Eye to Body
2. Eye to eye
3. 300 hours of discussion (face to face or on the phone)
4. Hand to hand
5. Hand to shoulder
6. Hand to waist
7. Face to face (kissing)
8. Hand to face
9-12 (Saved for marriage)
9. Touching with clothes
10. Touching w/o clothes above waist
11. Touching w/o clothes below waist
12. Oral, anal, "normal", and any other sex possible