Pretty Pictures (ATF)

by Brandgwen

Disclaimer: The guys belong to Mirisch, etc., the universe belongs to Mog, "Addicted to Bass" belongs to Daemion/Abrahams (copyright 1998 Prozaac Recordings) and "Last Ditch Cabaret" belongs to Mark Seymour (copyright 1997 Mushroom Records). Ezra's past is the sum of previous fanfics, but the rest comes purely from my head, so don't hold me to any facts. I'm not making money, I'm not worth suing.
Author's Note: This fanfic is the first in the Deep Cover series.

Jameson

Photo number four was of a young, business-like woman. Cassandra Jameson wore a grey, knee length dress, had her mousy hair pulled back in a bun and wore no makeup. She had practised commercial law for only five years, but her phenomenal success had prompted Conners to lure her away from her former employer to work in his company. Rumour had it, she was paid a lot more than her tax forms indicated.

Ezra had seen Cass many times before he actually approached her. She had appeared austere to say the least. Her face was neither pretty nor ugly and her figure acceptable, if somewhat on the short side. Some said that underneath her unflattering attire, she was a very attractive woman. Ezra wasn't sure of that. Some also said she gave Conners more than sound legal advice...

Ezra was walking down the corridor which lead from the boardroom, past the executive offices, to the main entrance. He had been checking things out, ensuring everything was secure for the meeting to be held there the next morning (and planting a few bugs of his own). It was well after seven and almost all of the offices were deserted. Only one showed any signs of life. In her office, Cass was searching a journal database on the internet. The usually tense lawyer seemed relaxed and at home. She taken out the bun and her hair fell around her shoulders. A pair of earphones were attached to the disk player on her computer and Cass was singing along, "I've got two pale hands up against the window pane / I'm shaking with the heat of my need, again / Starts in my feet, reverbs up to my brain / There's nothing I can do to..." she looked up and saw Ezra listening. Blushing scarlet, she tore the headphones from her head and began to stand. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr Mitchell?"

Ezra laughed. "No, Ms Jameson, I was just listening." Her blush went from scarlet to purple and Ezra began to worry her head would explode. He took his leave, "forgive the intrusion."

After that little encounter, Ezra had to re-evaluate his read on Conners' lawyer. In a way, his observations seemed to add weight to some of the gossip circulating about her. The woman he had seen was neither dowdy nor unattractive. Conners would certainly have seen something in her. On the other hand, Ezra doubted she would have seen anything in him.

Ezra ran into Cass the following day. He realised that, with her involvement in the legal workings of the company, she could well be involved in the smuggling. He had to get to know her and their chance encounter could be the perfect ice-breaker. She was still embarrassed about being caught the previous night, but soon relaxed when he didn't mention it. She even accepted his invitation to lunch.

"What, exactly, is it you do here, Mr Mitchell?" she asked, as they took their seats in the company cafeteria.

Ezra shrugged. "Manage the security devices, keep the officers on their toes," he smiled his most endearing smile, "and, please, call me Alex."

She nodded. There was something about this one. He was all charm and courtesy, but there was cunning, too. Of course, everyone was up to something in this place. She wondered what Alex Mitchell was up to.

Over the next few weeks, Ezra saw a lot of Cass. He soon realised that his charm tactics did not work on her. They didn't make her pliable, they made her suspicious. A girl like her needed people she could rely on, so he switched to sincerity. For her part, she was the most sincere person he had ever met. He watched her at work, negotiating deals with international concerns, with a professionalism which did her great credit, but, when they were alone, she was an open book. It bothered him how much he liked her. He had now been undercover for four months. In all that time, she was the only person he had been in contact with whom he could trust even remotely. Still, he kept his eye out for anything that could implicate her in any wrong doing.

He had taken to visiting her whenever they both worked late. She had come to look forward to it, even planning her overtime for when she knew he would be staying back. It was on one such occasion that she had left Ezra alone in her office, her computer logged on, to take a confidential phone call in another room. Silently, he slipped behind the keyboard and accessed the internet. It took him only a few minutes to email every document in her hard drive to an anonymous address; an address held by JD Dunne. He opened one or two and saw that they were encrypted. JD would make short work of that. Ezra erased the email from her sent-mail folder and exited the internet, erasing the history and returning to the screen at which she had left it. Assuming she did not check her internet usage closely, it was the perfect crime.