Show: The Agency
Title: The American Family: Chapter 5
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderful comments, and I apologise for the delay, but as I've
mentioned, I've been really busy with my exams. Most of my reviewers have pointed out a few
things: He's called Stiles more than A.B. (well noted, thanks) and that Stiles and Terri pretty much
just humped each other on the yacht deck in Nice… not Capri (thanks a lot as well, especially to
Dawn who helped me out with that amazing site, and Mackena for inviting me to her site as
well… thanks a bunch.) BTW… The Agency's been cancelled… isn't that horrible? ::sniffle:: What
ever will I do with my Saturday nights?
*~*~*~*~*~*
Dappled sunlight filtered through the leafy green oak in Terri's front yard, spilling sunlight through
the filmy curtains that fluttered in the breeze at the window high above her bed. It had been
incredibly balmy last night and the fan hadn't helped matters much because she was still waiting
for her procrastinator electrician to fix her air-conditioning.
The warm breeze flitted across Terri's body as she laid on top the covers, her nightgown tangled
along her thighs. A soft smile graced her face as her mind still carted her through an exquisite
dream that, for once, was not occupied with a certain blue-eyed CIA agent. Instead, sea green
eyes, and a cheeky smile barreled through her mind, thoughts of a modern-day gentleman… a
knight in shining armor; well she'd have to settle for a shiny Mercedes.
The smile widened and Terri felt herself slowly waking up. Her smile stayed in place as she
realized how incredibly corny that last thought was, and how adolescent her actions were. She'd
never felt this way with anyone before – certainly not with Jeff, and she hadn't actually been
involved with Stiles enough to know if anything like this was capable with another man. It felt
good…really good.
Terri stretched luxuriously, her back arching like a cat as she tried to work out the kinks of last
night's sleep from her body. Everything had been at peace last night and it all happened to do
with Michael O'Leary.
Just then, the shrill ringing of the phone on her bedside table startled Terri from her reverie.
Frowning slightly, she answered, wondering who could be calling her so early. She was
pleasantly surprised.
"Hello?" asked Terri, glancing at her clock – 7:15, the bold digital letters read.
"Terri?" The sound of Michael's deep baritone washing over her senses brought another smile to
her lips.
"Michael?"
"Yes. I hope I'm not calling too early."
"No, no not at all, I was just about to get out of bed," she lied, as she ran a hand through her
sleep-rumpled hair. "I just didn't expect to hear from you so soon is all."
Michael chuckled. "Well, I did promise to call you."
Terri shared his laugh. "That you did."
Michael cleared his throat. "What are you up to this morning?"
Terri shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "Why?"
"Well I was wondering if you'd like to have breakfast with me this morning. I know a great little
place by the lake, they have the best sausage. Do you like sausage?" he sounded like an anxious
teenager.
This endearing thought of Michael O'Leary as an unsure adolescent brought another smile to her
face. "As a matter of fact, I love sausage."
"So can I take that as a yes?"
"Yes, you may."
"Great! Is eight o' clock good for you?"
Terri's eyes widened. Eight o'clock?! That only gave her like forty minutes to get ready! How the
hell was she supposed to do that?! Of course, the great actress in Terri Lowell allowed her to
answer a bit more gracefully. "Sure. Eight o' clock's fine," she replied mildly.
"Ok, I'll pick you up then. Oh, and Terri…?
"Yes?"
"I really did have a great time last night," Michael added, his voice deepening an octave and
sending a shiver down her spine, and he terminated the phone with a click before she could reply.
Terri could not believe it, but she actually found herself blushing. Her mouth quirked up at the
edges as she replaced the receiver and bounded out of bed. She barely had about half an hour to
get ready!
*~*~*~*~*~*
Terri's morning had been phenomenal, and the way things were going the night was shaping up
to be just as incredible as well. The "little place by the lake" had turned out to be an exquisite little
Café/Patisserie. The sausage was just as delicious as Michael had described and the coffee had
been absolutely divine. Coupled with flaky buttery croissants and fresh preserves and great
conversation, Terri felt as though she was in heaven.
It was amazing how comfortable she felt around Michael. The mood was light and she could feel
herself slowly relaxing around him and opening up. Of course the CIA agent in her cautioned her
to be careful, as there obviously were things about her life that couldn't share with him for obvious
reasons, but what she could, made the bridge between them certainly shorter.
Breakfast had ended with them taking an early morning stroll around the paths by the lake and
another invitation to dinner, which Terri graciously accepted, of course.
Now, she was back at home, wiping down the counters in the kitchen after putting the wildflowers
she and Michael had picked by the lake in one of her favourite vases. She glanced up at the
kitchen clock – 11:00. Perhaps she should check up on Stiles and Alex.
Wiping her hands clean, she picked up the cordless phone and dialed the familiar number. She
let it ring six times before Stiles' husky voice, slightly distorted by the electronics, came over the
answering machine:
"This is Stiles. I'm obviously not here, but leave a message and I'll think about getting back to
you."
Terri's eyes rolled as she listened to the immature message, but waited patiently until till the
mechanical tone indicated that she could start her message. "Stiles, this is Terri. Glad to see
you've grown up, by the way," she started sarcastically. "Where are you two monsters, huh? I'm
home right now, so when you get this message, you'd *better* call back," she threatened. "By the
way," she continued much gentler, "Give my little man a kiss for me, will you?"
Shaking her head, Terri put down the phone and headed to her laptop. There were some files on
her private disks that she needed to double-check before filing her report to Joshua. Terri sat
down at the ordered desk and logged into her private CIA files, and she reached into the drawer
for the CD's.
Her thoughts were so concerned about her impending date with Michael later that night that she
didn't even realize that the disk was not where she'd had it last.
*~*~*~*~*~*
In the dark cold basement of an abandoned basement close to the docks, a short nondescript
man sat comfortably watching the surveillance of the beautiful woman on the many screens
before him. A half-eaten doughnut and a cup of sloppy coffee sat next to him, as he adjusted the
headphones on his ears.
He'd been watching her for the last hour, and so far nothing interesting had occurred. She'd
cleaned the kitchen, put away some flowers… nothing earth shattering. He was getting bored. He
turned a sleepy eye towards the footsteps that came towards him, echoing gloomily off the walls
in the near silence.
"I see you've got it up an' runnin', Paddy," came the Irish brogue from the shadows. The visitor
clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Paddy smiled, "Aye. If it weren't you, John-boy, I'd be insulted by the implication. O'course I got it
runnin'. Whyever I'm 'ere for, though I don' know, John-boy. The lass ain' done nothing."
John-boy sat in the vacant seat next to Paddy and slipped another set of headphones on as he
watched the woman putter around the kitchen. "Great ye are wi' electronics an' such Paddy, but
you ain' got a lick of patience. Is only been an hour since you bugged 'er."
Paddy laughed. John-boy was right. He watched as the woman made some more calls before
drifting down the hallway to her office. Paddy perked up as the woman booted up the laptop that
was lying on the desk. They had been unable to access the files without her knowing it had been
tampered with.
John-boy paid as close attention as Paddy did. "Zoom in," he commanded. Paddy did so, but the
woman was blocking the screen.
"Damnit! I can't see a thing!"
Unknowingly, Terri was blocking the two men from seeing her access her CIA files from her cover
file at the Department of Commerce. A move that had unwittingly saved her life….
TBC…
A/N: R&R guys, tell me what you thought. (Mackena, if you're here, how can I upload my story to
the site?)
Title: The American Family: Chapter 5
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderful comments, and I apologise for the delay, but as I've
mentioned, I've been really busy with my exams. Most of my reviewers have pointed out a few
things: He's called Stiles more than A.B. (well noted, thanks) and that Stiles and Terri pretty much
just humped each other on the yacht deck in Nice… not Capri (thanks a lot as well, especially to
Dawn who helped me out with that amazing site, and Mackena for inviting me to her site as
well… thanks a bunch.) BTW… The Agency's been cancelled… isn't that horrible? ::sniffle:: What
ever will I do with my Saturday nights?
*~*~*~*~*~*
Dappled sunlight filtered through the leafy green oak in Terri's front yard, spilling sunlight through
the filmy curtains that fluttered in the breeze at the window high above her bed. It had been
incredibly balmy last night and the fan hadn't helped matters much because she was still waiting
for her procrastinator electrician to fix her air-conditioning.
The warm breeze flitted across Terri's body as she laid on top the covers, her nightgown tangled
along her thighs. A soft smile graced her face as her mind still carted her through an exquisite
dream that, for once, was not occupied with a certain blue-eyed CIA agent. Instead, sea green
eyes, and a cheeky smile barreled through her mind, thoughts of a modern-day gentleman… a
knight in shining armor; well she'd have to settle for a shiny Mercedes.
The smile widened and Terri felt herself slowly waking up. Her smile stayed in place as she
realized how incredibly corny that last thought was, and how adolescent her actions were. She'd
never felt this way with anyone before – certainly not with Jeff, and she hadn't actually been
involved with Stiles enough to know if anything like this was capable with another man. It felt
good…really good.
Terri stretched luxuriously, her back arching like a cat as she tried to work out the kinks of last
night's sleep from her body. Everything had been at peace last night and it all happened to do
with Michael O'Leary.
Just then, the shrill ringing of the phone on her bedside table startled Terri from her reverie.
Frowning slightly, she answered, wondering who could be calling her so early. She was
pleasantly surprised.
"Hello?" asked Terri, glancing at her clock – 7:15, the bold digital letters read.
"Terri?" The sound of Michael's deep baritone washing over her senses brought another smile to
her lips.
"Michael?"
"Yes. I hope I'm not calling too early."
"No, no not at all, I was just about to get out of bed," she lied, as she ran a hand through her
sleep-rumpled hair. "I just didn't expect to hear from you so soon is all."
Michael chuckled. "Well, I did promise to call you."
Terri shared his laugh. "That you did."
Michael cleared his throat. "What are you up to this morning?"
Terri shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "Why?"
"Well I was wondering if you'd like to have breakfast with me this morning. I know a great little
place by the lake, they have the best sausage. Do you like sausage?" he sounded like an anxious
teenager.
This endearing thought of Michael O'Leary as an unsure adolescent brought another smile to her
face. "As a matter of fact, I love sausage."
"So can I take that as a yes?"
"Yes, you may."
"Great! Is eight o' clock good for you?"
Terri's eyes widened. Eight o'clock?! That only gave her like forty minutes to get ready! How the
hell was she supposed to do that?! Of course, the great actress in Terri Lowell allowed her to
answer a bit more gracefully. "Sure. Eight o' clock's fine," she replied mildly.
"Ok, I'll pick you up then. Oh, and Terri…?
"Yes?"
"I really did have a great time last night," Michael added, his voice deepening an octave and
sending a shiver down her spine, and he terminated the phone with a click before she could reply.
Terri could not believe it, but she actually found herself blushing. Her mouth quirked up at the
edges as she replaced the receiver and bounded out of bed. She barely had about half an hour to
get ready!
*~*~*~*~*~*
Terri's morning had been phenomenal, and the way things were going the night was shaping up
to be just as incredible as well. The "little place by the lake" had turned out to be an exquisite little
Café/Patisserie. The sausage was just as delicious as Michael had described and the coffee had
been absolutely divine. Coupled with flaky buttery croissants and fresh preserves and great
conversation, Terri felt as though she was in heaven.
It was amazing how comfortable she felt around Michael. The mood was light and she could feel
herself slowly relaxing around him and opening up. Of course the CIA agent in her cautioned her
to be careful, as there obviously were things about her life that couldn't share with him for obvious
reasons, but what she could, made the bridge between them certainly shorter.
Breakfast had ended with them taking an early morning stroll around the paths by the lake and
another invitation to dinner, which Terri graciously accepted, of course.
Now, she was back at home, wiping down the counters in the kitchen after putting the wildflowers
she and Michael had picked by the lake in one of her favourite vases. She glanced up at the
kitchen clock – 11:00. Perhaps she should check up on Stiles and Alex.
Wiping her hands clean, she picked up the cordless phone and dialed the familiar number. She
let it ring six times before Stiles' husky voice, slightly distorted by the electronics, came over the
answering machine:
"This is Stiles. I'm obviously not here, but leave a message and I'll think about getting back to
you."
Terri's eyes rolled as she listened to the immature message, but waited patiently until till the
mechanical tone indicated that she could start her message. "Stiles, this is Terri. Glad to see
you've grown up, by the way," she started sarcastically. "Where are you two monsters, huh? I'm
home right now, so when you get this message, you'd *better* call back," she threatened. "By the
way," she continued much gentler, "Give my little man a kiss for me, will you?"
Shaking her head, Terri put down the phone and headed to her laptop. There were some files on
her private disks that she needed to double-check before filing her report to Joshua. Terri sat
down at the ordered desk and logged into her private CIA files, and she reached into the drawer
for the CD's.
Her thoughts were so concerned about her impending date with Michael later that night that she
didn't even realize that the disk was not where she'd had it last.
*~*~*~*~*~*
In the dark cold basement of an abandoned basement close to the docks, a short nondescript
man sat comfortably watching the surveillance of the beautiful woman on the many screens
before him. A half-eaten doughnut and a cup of sloppy coffee sat next to him, as he adjusted the
headphones on his ears.
He'd been watching her for the last hour, and so far nothing interesting had occurred. She'd
cleaned the kitchen, put away some flowers… nothing earth shattering. He was getting bored. He
turned a sleepy eye towards the footsteps that came towards him, echoing gloomily off the walls
in the near silence.
"I see you've got it up an' runnin', Paddy," came the Irish brogue from the shadows. The visitor
clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Paddy smiled, "Aye. If it weren't you, John-boy, I'd be insulted by the implication. O'course I got it
runnin'. Whyever I'm 'ere for, though I don' know, John-boy. The lass ain' done nothing."
John-boy sat in the vacant seat next to Paddy and slipped another set of headphones on as he
watched the woman putter around the kitchen. "Great ye are wi' electronics an' such Paddy, but
you ain' got a lick of patience. Is only been an hour since you bugged 'er."
Paddy laughed. John-boy was right. He watched as the woman made some more calls before
drifting down the hallway to her office. Paddy perked up as the woman booted up the laptop that
was lying on the desk. They had been unable to access the files without her knowing it had been
tampered with.
John-boy paid as close attention as Paddy did. "Zoom in," he commanded. Paddy did so, but the
woman was blocking the screen.
"Damnit! I can't see a thing!"
Unknowingly, Terri was blocking the two men from seeing her access her CIA files from her cover
file at the Department of Commerce. A move that had unwittingly saved her life….
TBC…
A/N: R&R guys, tell me what you thought. (Mackena, if you're here, how can I upload my story to
the site?)
