Title: Snowing on the Beach
Author: Lady-Daine
Rating: PG/K+ (May go up later for language/violence)
Author's Note: Thanks a bunch to everyone who reviewed! It always feels wonderful to get commentary. Special idolatrous gratitude to LOTRseer3350 for Beta reading- she catches me when I do stupid things that don't make any sense, and helps polish up amazingly! Kudos!
Again, if you read this, and you don't mind, I do shamelessly love to receive any and all comments, especially critique. No one is a perfect writer- tell me how I can improve!
Also, apologies in advance for the infrequent posts. Both myself, and my lovely Beta are being subject to AP testing and final classes…which can be very time consuming. I'm doing my best to keep things going, but the pile of books on my desk is rising at an alarming pace…
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the T.V. show numb3rs, nor do I own any characters, concepts, or anything else relating to the show. I'm simply borrowing some of them because I was too lazy to make up my own. Don't sue me- I'm a Red Sox Fan and a liberal!
Snowing on the Beach
Chapter 7
"Charlie, what is it?" Don clung to the phone at his ear, unused to the urgency in his brother's voice. The tone on the other end crackled uncertainly, and the sound of commotion could be heard in the background.
"They want to take her!"
"Take who?"
"Lily!"
"Who wants to take her?"
"These, these…" the young man was obviously panicking. "They say they're from the CIA and they want to take her and they're-"
"Damn-it! Can you stall them, can you uh…?" Julie and Terry reacted immediately, understanding the situation from the sparse conversation.
"Ask them if they have an arrest or custody warrant! She's eighteen, so they need one!" Terry said quickly. The Arab woman took in a sharp breath.
"That won't work." Don felt his breath catch in his throat. If this was what it seemed, the CIA could take her away and shoot her in some back-alley with him watching, and there wouldn't be a thing he would be able to do about it.
"They have one." Charlie sounded like he was struggling to breathe. "It says something about them being able to take custody of her because of special circumstances, and it's signed by the police, I think."
"Oh God."
"What?" Julie and Terry both demanded at the same time. Don pulled the mouthpiece away for a second, though he was unwilling to put down the phone.
"They have a custody warrant. It's signed by the LAPD." For a moment, Julie looked relieved, but then she panicked all over again.
"They're fake! CIA does not intersperse investigations with any local authority." Don closed his eyes momentarily, swallowing a rush of anger.
"Julie says they're fake. Don't cooperate with them."
"Don, they have guns." The FBI agent felt his heart stop. When Charlie had started getting mixed up in his investigations, he had vowed never to let the young man get into harm's way. Not only had he failed that, but the only potential link to an unsolved case was on the brink of being murdered.
"Why would they bother with the CIA thing if they have guns?" Hearing this, Terry and Julie both cursed aloud, reading between the lines for the situation.
"Because they want her alive." Terry said quickly, her eyes wide with the same fear that Don found himself drowning with.
"Listen, Charlie, you have to stall."
"Stall? How?"
"Uh…I don't know, something, anything. Pretend to get sick, or I don't know... I'm going to be there as soon as I can, but you can't let Lily go with them."
"But-" Don had already flipped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.
Within moments, he was flying down flights of stairs, closely followed by Terry and Julie, both of whom were fumbling to grab their guns. The lazy heat of the Los Angeles air stirred grudgingly around them, giving way as the three sliced through it, racing against time and hope.
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Charlie cursed as Don cut off their call. His brother would be there, no doubt as fast as he could…but it wouldn't be in time. The two men in official looking shirts and ties looked impatient, at least as far as the mathematician could tell from the sparse view of a cracked office door. He had told them to hold on a second, that he had to make a phone call, and left before they could react. However, they didn't seem eager to wait much longer. Both of them were silently staring at Lily, who was staring back, frozen by their predatory gaze. There was something about the two men that wasn't quite right. They were burly- both with nondescript brown hair and lifeless dark eyes- and they looked uncomfortable in their clothes, as though not used to wearing the business attire. Still, guns were guns, and CIA badges were CIA badges. This was not turning out to be a normal day.
The young man had accepted by now that Lily was by no means normal. However, he did not anticipate two CIA agents, or whatever they were, armed with very large guns, barging into his first-period vectors lecture and demanding custody of the girl. Now the students in his class were mulling around, anxious due to either the newcomers, or due towards the professor who had given them a tongue-lashing for their lack of attention the previous Friday.
Charlie's office door moved open a little farther, and he whirled around, the phone clutched in his hand, watching as the pale oak moved. Amita slipped into the office gracefully, her face a study of worry.
"What did Don say?" she asked. He was thankful of her blunt good sense, not questioning why or demanding background information on the current predicament.
"He says they're fakes…" the mathematician said breathlessly. "He wants us to stall."
"Stall? How?" The grad student pulled locks of hair out of her face and pushed them behind her shoulders, a nervous gesture that Charlie had become accustomed to.
"I don't know!" he replied, frustrated. "He just said 'somehow'."
"Lovely." Amita peered out at the two men. One of them was leveling a menacing glare at Lily, who was shaking slightly, trying not to return the gaze.
"Well, we can't just leave her out there." Taking a shuddering breathe, the young woman strode out of the office, tugging on Charlie's sleeve to indicate that he should follow. Fearlessly, Amita walked up to the two "agents" who stiffened when they realized that she was approaching them.
"Who did you say you wanted?" she inquired sweetly, putting a lukewarm smile on her face.
"Lily Aaralyn Rissaya." The first one answered, his eyebrows furrowed. "We've told you this already."
"And what's your business with her?" Amita continued. From behind her, Charlie could see that she was shaking slightly, but keeping her wits together quite well.
"That's none of your business, and we're on a tight schedule." The second man said, his stocky figure towering over the slighter stature of the young woman.
"Oh, alright. Well, she's not here." the grad student smiled politely and turned back to the class.
"Professor, I'm sorry these men have disrupted. If you would, please continue." Charlie blinked, utterly confused by his student's behavior. Amita shot him a venomous look.
"Ah," the mathematician shook his head. "Well, as I was saying, the vector quantities, those that require two variables, such as speed and directions, can be quantified with unknowns, but only if-" Charlie sauntered back up towards the front of the classroom, unwillingly turning his back on the two waiting antagonists. Struggling to breathe, he tried to assume his normal, eager tone of voice, all the while hoping that Amita knew what she was doing.
"Are you telling me that this isn't Ms. Rissaya?" The first man, the one who Amita had first spoken to, demanded, taking a step towards Lily, who tried not to flinch. The grad-student, who had taken her place at the desk in the front of the room, looked up, throwing Charlie another glance that insisted he continue the lecture.
"No, of course not. That's Amita, Professor Epp's thesis advisee." The dark haired woman replied. "But she's a little on the busy side, you see, working on this project for her-"
"I've had it with this bull! We have a picture of her right here!" The second "CIA agent" stepped forward and pulled a three-by-five school-picture of Lily out of his jacket pocket, matching it up with the face of the young woman sitting there. Amita looked shocked for a second, and froze in her tracks, taken off guard by the thoroughness of Lily's seekers.
"The…resemblance is uh, amazing, but I assure you-" The dark-haired woman took a step between the picture and the girl, trying to block the view of the two men, but the attempt was fruitless. One of them shoved her away, knocking the young woman backwards off her feet. Then he moved forward towards Lily, who had remained perfectly still throughout the exchange. Automatically, she made a jump for Amita, calling out her name in worry, for the other woman's fall had been anything but graceful.
The commotion had again stopped the class. The students, who hadn't paid much attention to the intruders before, now watched in silent fascination as they drew out pistols and converged on the two women huddled on the floor. Charlie abandoned all pretense of the lesson, dropped his chalk, and propelled himself away from the board in wordless horror. One of the "agents" stopped his descent on his prey and turned to face the young professor, gun up, safety off.
"FBI, get down!"
"Drop your weapons, and put your hands in the air!" Don and Terry, burst into the classroom from both entrances, surrounding the two intruders. Both men froze, but made no motion to relinquish their weapons.
"Put your guns on the floor and get your hands up!" Don demanded again, brandishing his own weapon. "Charlie, get down!" Immediately, the young man lowered himself to the ground, his breath coming out in small gasps. The room was filled with solid, palpable tension. No one dared make a sound or alter their position in the least, as opposing sides held guns at each others' throats.
"Charles, you know, you're making an awful lot of noise, and some of us are trying to-" The already open classroom door swung farther in, admitted a rather harried looking Larry, who was utterly oblivious to the surrounding conflict.
The newcomer caused one of the intruders to turn his head to the side slightly- he was obviously not a professional- giving Don the opening he needed. He rushed the man from his blind-side, taking him down and causing his gun to go clattering across the floor, towards Charlie, who flinched away from it. At the same time, Terry, from the other end, managed to hook her leg behind the knees of the other man, who had been distracted by his companion's demise. He went down with a cry.
The silence after that was stifling. Finally, the man at the door spoke with bemused wonder in his eyes.
"Charles, I must say, this is the oddest simulations I've ever seen you use. What exactly are you trying to portray?"
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It was stifling.
Lily was sitting in an empty conference room, swaying slightly. Her head was in her hands, her voluminous locks of hair spilling onto a table teeming with sheaves of paper. Amita was nearby, a notebook open in her lap. She occasionally said something to the younger woman, but the attempts were rebuffed with silence. Charlie peered in on them, unsure or whether or not he wanted to join the morose congregation. On his other side, in the cubicles, Don was huddled with Terry and David, speaking in low voices. He was trying not to listen to the conversation, but it was impossible to miss some of the key phrases. Jeopardizing the safety of an entire classroom… almost got someone killed…putting a high security case on the brink of full exposure…
Somehow, the mathematician couldn't help but blame himself for the whole snafu. It had been he who had brought the girl into his class, and him who had let Amita shoulder the responsibility of stalling. He hadn't spoken to his student since the incident- and he supposed she deserved some manner of explanation, but he couldn't bring himself to provide it. The icy storm of emotions that forced themselves down on the young man was causing him to shiver both mentally and literally. He had almost hurt so many people, people who were under his care, his responsibility. People he cared about.
"Charlie? Charlie?" It took the young man a few moments to realize that someone was speaking to him. He whirled around, surprised to hear Julie's voice. For once, it was kind and warm, without a hint of demand or expectation in it.
"Uh, yes, did you need something?" he asked politely, still uneasy around the near-stranger.
"I'm taking Lily outside for rifle. You look like you could use some fresh air. You want to come?" The light tenderness of her offer, accompanied by a sympathetic glance made the mathematician want to crumble to the ground then and there. It was a far cry from the few cold words that Don had offered him that afternoon- not out of anger, but rather from sheer pre-occupation.
"Umm, I guess, sure." He didn't really want to, but the idea of keeping his current perch was less appealing than her offer. The woman nodded her understanding, and then gestured that he should wait a moment. Then she slipped into the conference room, and the young man could see her murmur a few words to Lily with one hand on the girl's shoulder. Surprisingly, she reacted immediately, standing up and shaking hair out of her eyes. While the expression on her face displayed no small amount of tension, Charlie was impressed with the young woman's resilience. He remembered Julie's words from the day before. She keeps getting up…
Julie led Lily out of the building wordlessly, her manner once again all professional and brisk. Charlie followed behind, brooding and cursing his own stupidity the whole way. When the Arab woman called a halt, he froze in place, breathing the cool evening air, and willing himself not to dwell on the knot of guilt hat had settled in his stomach. Working with Don…it was too much-too much to delve into. At first he had loved the thrill of a new challenge- to work with living breathing math. Even more, he had basked in his brother's admiration, and the relationship they were developing that had previously seemed impossible. But now, it was all crashing down around his ears, turning into an irrevocable mess of heady risks and careless mistakes.
"Charlie, come here for a second." He pulled himself unsteadily out of his reverie. Julie was beckoning with one hand, the other holding the CD player that apparently made its home in her car.
"Uh, ok." The young man moved cautiously towards the two women, at a loss for what they could possibly want with him.
"Rissaya has never been much of a 'partner' dancer, but I think it'd be good to try something new. It will take all of her mind, so she'll stop sulking." Charlie didn't bother to point out that the young woman had the right to sulk. Instead, he grappled to understand what the woman was saying. Partners? But that would mean…maybe she just wants me to hit the play button for her.
"Alright Epps, one hand on her waist, the other takes her arm…" Julie was gesturing impatiently as Charlie stared, his mind reeling.
"Oh…no," he hoped that she didn't really mean what he thought she meant. "I don't…I couldn't…"
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"Don, I think you should come here." Terry's voice broke through the wall of thought that surrounded the deeply disturbed man. The nebulous foe that he was up against always seemed to be one step ahead of him. The two suspects were a couple of construction workers that had worked a few blocks down from CalSci and wanted to make a few extra bucks. In a few words, they knew absolutely nothing.
"What is it?" he asked distractedly.
"Well…" David had also made his way over to the large window that served the federal offices. It sounded like he was choking on his own breath. "Julie mentioned something about distracting the two kids."
"Two?" Don questioned, looking up from the pages and pages of interrogationnotes that he had.
"Two." Terry affirmed. She also, seemed to be hard pressed to speak. The elder Epps brother wondered vaguely if some terrible disease had swept his team- they sounded like they were dying. With a sign of indignation he stood up, scattering papers around him, and made his way to the window. After a moment he spoke.
"Am I drunk?"
"I would hope not, Don." Terry replied, her eyes scanning the scene below them. After a few moments, she punched him in the arm. "Come on, we have work to do."
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Don slammed his fists into the table, causing the occupant in the nearby chair to jump several inches. His ruddy face was wide eyed with fear- there was no hardened experience that betrayed anything but what the man claimed that he was- a construction worker looking to make a bit of extra money.
"Two hundred dollars? You agreed to kidnap a woman at gunpoint for two hundred dollars?" The agent had a stiff set of morals himself, but he had always thought that even the most lenient of people would cross kidnapping off of their list of possible money-making activities.
"It, wasn't like that." The man's voice was thin and reedy. He stared at the hardwood of the table, looking very cowed and meek.
"What was it like then?" Don demanded, perching himself on the table and looking down at the suspect with a heated dislike that he didn't know he even possessed.
"It was… well, the guy said that it was a marriage problem. He told us that it was his daughter, and that she really wanted to go with him, but she couldn't because the courts were making her stay with her mother, and that…surprising her…was the only way that he had a chance to reclaim her because of the court orders, but that once she was free she'd be able to- clear things up. It wasn't really kidnapping."
"And you believed that crap? You believed some guy that came up to you and gave you suits and guns and told you to pose as CIA agents?" Don raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Surely these men weren't that stupid.
"He was the boss, ok. It was that, or probably a pink slip."
"Your boss made you do it?"
"Yeah…no."
"Make up your mind and spit out the truth- you're in hot water all ready- don't start us boiling." Don's glare could have stripped paint.
"He said he was a friend of the boss's- another contractor or something. And he implied that…that we didn't have a choice, but he phrased it as a request, all polite-like, you know?"
"Yeah," Don gritted his teeth and turned away from the man in disgust. "So it was your job, or the life of an innocent child, and you chose yourself!"
"No! Like I said, he said she wasn't going to be hurt, that she was going to be happy to-"
"Shut the hell up!" The FBI agent had had enough. He was ashamed- ashamed of the human race for fostering the scum that would put a teenager at gunpoint for a couple hundred dollars. "Here's what you're going to do. You're going to describe this man to the next agent that comes in here, with as much detail as possible. Then, you're going to tell him everything you told me, again, in as much detail as you remember. If you do this, we might be able to soften the counts of aggravated assault with a dangerous weapon and attempted kidnapping charges that we can level. It might bring your prison sentence down by a few years." Don took perverse satisfaction in the pallid sheen of sickly green that came over the man's face when he mentioned the word "prison."
"Oh yeah, we're talking hard time, maybe twenty, thirty years, if you're lucky." Don addressed the man with another scowl before storming out of the room, leaving his quarry shaken and broken.
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"He'll talk." Don said, after slamming the door on the interrogation room. Terry and David looked at the small smirk of satisfaction that played across his features and exchanged slightly disturbed expressions. Once the agent got into a case, he became obsessive, almost animal like, and spared no measure to solve a case. And never had they seen him so personally invested. But after all, the case was personal.
"We've gotten everything from Amita, Charlie, and Lily. It all matches- descriptions, events. That girl, the grad student, has an excellent head on her shoulders." David replied, shuffling through the pile of documents on his desk, and preparing to do another interrogation on their suspects, who were cowering in their respective isolation chambers.
"Great. I'm going to take Charlie and Lily home, and Amita back to her dorm or whatever. She might want to hole up at our house for the night. I'm going to post agent Copland on the house, just in case, and I'll be back." Don strode through the cubicle, searching out the new agent. He found him not far away, in one of the various cubicles. The lanky young man, just out of the academy was good for the purpose that was needed for- he would be completely thorough in his actions, and would play by the book. He wouldn't relax his guard for anything.
"Copland, you have guard duty tonight. I'll relieve you later." Don's dark eyes flashed a stern, authoritative aura over the young man's surprised response to his summons. Though there were many agents in the building, Don seldom branched out to other teams, let alone new recruits, with his missions, as a special agent. He was however, well known and well respected, and there was something of awe in the younger man's assessment of his superior. This was what Don had been counting on; it would ensure that the job was done effectively.
"My brother, you've heard of him?" Don asked.
"Y-yes, Charles Epps, the math genius." Copland answered, brushing wisps of dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. He looked up from his computer screen, his icy jade eyes meeting Don's not fearlessly, but confidently, eagerly. He'll be good at this, some day, Don thought. It took a few years to knock idealism and naivety out of new agents, but to get out of the academy and to get a job as young as Alex Copland had- he was in his early or mid twenties- said something for his competency.
"You'll be posted on him, and Lily Rissaya, who is under our protection, and possibly Charlie's protégée, Amita, who was also involved in today's incident. I'm going to take all of you to the house that Charlie shares with our father, Alan. Secure it, and keep them inside, or in immediate vicinity. I don't think there's going to be trouble, but I don't want to risk anything on assumption." Alex nodded, and Don made a mental check of approval in his mind- he had just recited an essential basic from his past training, and the younger agent had caught the subtlety in the challenge.
"I'm going to collect your assignments and brief them on the current condition. It isn't a high risk situation- just go get briefed by agent Sinclair when you're finished with whatever you're doing, and meet us in the parking lot." Copland nodded again, absorbing the information, obviously trying not to appear excited at his first "real" assignment, or having a conversation with the "famed" Don Epps. As the young man quickly logged out of his computer programs and prepared to meet David, Don put a hand on his shoulder.
"This is my brother. He's a grown man, but he's not invincible, he's not FBI, and he's had more then enough gun scares in his life, for someone who belongs in a classroom. You make sure this is as easy as possible on everyone. Don't scare them, but don't let anything get by you."
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The mood was somber as the three young adults entered the familiar setting of Charlie's house. The young man had convinced Amita to stay at the house for the night, insisting that it was for his security as much as hers. She was just shaken up enough to agree. Alex Copland followed closely behind the group, surveying the area and mentally assessing the measures he would need to secure the area.
It was dark now- and the shady gloom poured in from the open door, repelled meekly by the light cast from the kitchen lamps and the half-moon that was overhead. The dark marble settings on the countertop were forbidding in the shadow, the rolling colors melding and playing across the softly hued tiles on the floor. Charlie sank down on one of the stools, and motioned for the two women to do the same. Amita complied, but Lily moved quickly passed the kitchen, her eyes on the stairs that were still swathed in shadow.
"I'm…I'm going to go take a shower." She said into the silence, her eyes downcast.
"Lily…" the mathematician didn't know what to say to help the situation, so he let his voice drift off. She took his hesitation for anger, and wilted under the silence.
"I'm…I'm sorry, about everything." Her voice was saturated with guilt, and she could barely bring her eyes up to meet Amita's and Charlie's before she bolted up the stairs.
"Lily!" Amita called after her, understanding at once the situation. She raised her hands in frustration.
"Oh god, she's blaming herself for all of this- she thinks that everything is her fault." The young woman turned to her professor with wide-eyed sympathy for the girl. Charlie shook his head,
"I know. Give her awhile. She's a bright girl- she just needs to get over the initial shock and then we'll be able to get through to her." He gazed off in Lily's wake, trying to hide his worry. She had been so unresponsive in the past few hours- so utterly solitary, unwilling to let anyone into her shadow world. She didn't even react when he had stepped on her toes- countless times, his face burning with unstrained embarrassment. He didn't know how long it'd be before she sealed everyone all completely.
"I'm going to check the perimeter." Copland came up behind the duo, awkwardly entering the conversation, obviously unsure whether it was alright to intervene.
"Alright, but I doubt you'll find anything. If you find an old man around here somewhere- don't shoot him. He belongs to us." The unnerving lack of humor in his voice caused the young agent to do a double take before he saw Charlie's weak smile. He nodded wordlessly, and walked off into the darkness. Truth be told, the mathematician had felt a little stung by having an agent who was obviously years younger then himself guarding him. However, he trusted Don's judgment, and after the events of that morning, he was willing to do just about anything for some peace and the feeling of safety. Not to mention the fact that informing his brother about having a keeper kept Don from commenting on the younger man's…recent activities. From a distant gleam of amusement in the FBI agent's eyes, Charlie knew that he would receive a serious dosage of grief when the seriousness of the situation had worn off.
"She is a bright girl," Amita said softly, her dark eyes reflecting the soft light from over the stove, giving her an almost ethereal look. "You seem to really care about her." Now her tone was wistful, almost sad.
"I do- it's strange, it's been only a few days, but there's a weird connection between us, you know?" Charlie wasn't paying attention to his companion, but rather, was staring at the shadowy patterns across the opposite wall.
"So you're… um, together?" the young woman asked, sounding as though she hated to ask the question, but needed to know the answer. It was almost funny in that it was so similar to the tone that Charlie himself had used several weeks ago when she had told him she had an arranged marriage.
"Together? Lily and I?" He laughed, more because he was startled then because the idea was funny. Amita brightened like a newly watered flower.
"You're not? The way that you two connect, made me think that…" Amita shook her head at her own folly and chuckled softly, her relief evident enough to catch Charlie's attention.
"Hardly," he affirmed, his mind trying to wrap itself around his student's curiosity. "It's like- like finding a long lost twin or something. Maybe because we both lost a mother, or, I don't know. Very strong bonding, surprisingly so, much akin to an ionic bonding of-"
"But platonic." Amita interrupted him before he could launch into a lecture on chemical bonding. She wanted him to stick to the point.
"Quite." Charlie replied, turning towards his protégée and thinking that the lighting was perfect for her. It warmed her complexion, turning her skin to a pure amber honey, and her hair into raven strands of silk. "Why do you ask?"
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Alex had finished his voyage around the outside of the Epps house, and was making his way back into the house via the back door when he ran into the "old man" that Charlie had mentioned. Said resident was not entirely pleased with the idea of an FBI agent being sent to guard his house, and demanded a full explanation of why the young man was there. By the time he finished with the older man, Alex almost pitied Don for the grief that he was due to get when he returned home later that night. It was hard to fathom the Don Epps receiving a lecture, but after having met his father, it was a little bit easier.
The blonde holstered the pistol he had been toting and opened the back door, letting himself back into the Epps' house, deciding that he ought to station himself somewhere and wait for Don to return. He was still in slight disbelief that he had in fact gotten a real assignment, but the young man wasn't about to let it go to his head.
I might be green, but I'm not stupid, he thought, a he bolted the door he had just entered through and moved silently into the dark house. From the other room, the voices of the math genius and his student rang softly. The earnest sounds of their tones suggested an intense conversation between the two, and Alex had no wish to disturb it. Instead, he moved across the den that he found himself in, and up the stairs, wondering if he could find a room that would allow him to survey the front lawn, the most likely place that an attack could be sprung from.
The darkened hallway of the upstairs made the agent nervous, and reminded him again that he was on duty, and on serious duty at that. To dispel the feeling that he was simply picking through someone's house, the young man took his gun out again, feeling a little foolish. There wasn't anyone up here but him. Charles Epps, his student, and Mr. Epps senior, were all downstairs. Slowly, he crept along the corridor towards the room at the end of the hallway. Turning the handle, he let himself in, seeing it as the best potential outpost to take.
"What the-" The blonde had slipped into the room, just as Lily was pulling a tee-shirt over her head. She spun around in mid-dress with a gasp, just as Alex lifted his gun in surprise. There were no lights in the room, but enough was provided by the window so that there was no mistaking who the other figure in the room was- or what she had been doing.
"Oh God, I'm sorry, I forgot that, I forgot-" The blonde agent quickly turned around to face the door that he had just slipped through, his cheeks turning a bright crimson. Great, your first mission, for Don Epps, of all people, and you forget about one of the people you're supposed to be protecting. Smooth- just beautiful. You stupid blonde!
"Why are you getting dressed in the dark?" Alex blurted out, still staring at the door. The only response he got was the heavy breathing of the young woman. Turning around slowly, the young agent saw that she was huddled on the floor, staring up at him fearfully. "I'm not a threat," he said, frowning at her position. "You remember me, I'm the agent that Don Epps assigned, Alex-"
"I've…I've just had too many guns pointed at me in the last…couple of days." she replied quickly, interrupting him. The young woman stood up, her shirt fully on now, looking a little reproachful. "It suits my mood better."
"What?"
"You asked why I was getting dressed in the dark. I told you. Why were you poking around in the dark?" The girl crossed her arms and threw the young man an inquisitive stare.
"I was just checking- making sure everything was secure."
"And is everything secure in this room, to your satisfaction?" Lily demanded, looking slightly perturbed. Alex's FBI senses flared at the signs of hidden emotion, but he ignored them, knowing that probing into this girl's mask was none of his business.
"Yes," he mumbled, feeling like a child, even though he was several years older then the young woman.
"Ok." Lily continued to stare at him.
"Then I'm off." Alex muttered as she watched him expectantly. Stupid blonde…