A/N: Just so you people know..Purina is of course a major animal food company place. There's a building in downtown St. Louis that's a Purina company, and that's where I got that idea. But enjoy this chapter:D

Chapter 2

The CIA told us to pack light; they had already supplied us with almost everything at the new house in St. Louis. That still wouldn't stop me; I began to pack my favorite articles of clothing, and just about all the makeup bags I could find in my bathroom. I wrote a note to Francie, saying I'd be on a business trip, this time with the 'Hot Guy Michael' and headed out to LAX. Going through security and the whole bit, I walked over to the seating area at the gate, seeing Vaughn sleeping in one of the chairs, looking very uncomfortable.

"Hey there."

He jumped awake, looking up to me in surprise. "Hi, honey, glad you're late."

It took me a second, and then clicked into my head. Mission! "Oh you know, I had to pack a bunch," I said with a smirk, sitting down next to him. "So, why are you here so early?" I asked once we could talk normally.

"I thought security would be hell. Surprisingly, it wasn't," He said, rubbing at his eyes.

"Lucky for you," I mumbled out before leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms over my chest, hopefully to get some sleep.

"Always be prepared," He muttered, and for once, I felt like shooting whoever came up with that motto. I took a glance at the ring which was now on my finger, and smiled. I looked up to see Vaughn smiling at me. "What?"

"Well, now, you have to call me Michael all the time."

Oh, not in the bedroom, Vaughn. I'll make up every damn word in the world for you.

"Why, you don't like Vaughn?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I do, but you never call me Michael."

"I try to keep it professional," I said, and couldn't help but to smirk. Anything between Vaughn and I professional? I just need to thank whoever the hell decided to make this new terrorist organization and Kendall. Yes, because the genius put this operation together. I'll send him a toupee or something later.

I bet Weiss is making a bet to see how long the 'professionalism' lasts. Oh wait, he did, and I'm in it, thanks to Marshall. Now I remember what almost no sleep can do.

Vaughn was about to speak, but the announcement to board the flight to St. Louis was announced through the speakers. We got up, lazily, and walked over to the line. While we were waiting, he slid his right hand to grip my left, and I couldn't help but to break out into a smile as our fingers entwined. After passing through the gates, we boarded the plane, and I jumped at the opportunity to get the window seat before he could even ask. He shot me a glare that had me in giggles, yes, giggles, but I got as comfortable as I could in the seat and drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to find out that we were in the air, slowly going down. I looked down to see that Vaughn's elbow was the disturbance that brought me out of the sleep. I looked up, through narrowed eyes, to see him smiling from ear to ear.

"Morning, honey," He drawled out, and I leaned my head back against the headrest, growling lowly in response. Then the pilot made the announcement, they'd be landing, and everyone to get into their seats and buckle up. I didn't have to worry, not even moving once since I was in a peaceful sleeping state for the last few hours.

I gazed out the window, looking at the new surroundings. "Nice, isn't it?" I heard him say, and I smiled. "I've been here, once, for about a day. Good people."

"That's what I've heard about the Midwest, good people," I said, agreeing with his statement. We then fell into a silence as the plane began to land.

"Welcome to Lambert International Airport in St. Louis, Missouri. Enjoy your stay."

At the announcement, any trace of sleep I wanted disappeared. Now I felt nervous and excited at the same time, the way I usually felt before a mission. Of course, this was for a different reason, too, and that reason was the man sitting next to me.

We got out of the plane, flying through security in record time and getting our bags as fast as we could. We hailed the nearest taxi, telling the driver to take us to the address to the house we would be staying in from now on. Upon seeing it, I couldn't help but to smile, and after getting my bags, I practically dragged Vaughn up to the door.

"A little excited?" He asked with a laugh, and I shot him a glare. He just smiled at me and fished the key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. Upon opening it, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

I think this was the CIA's version of Pimp My Ride; instead it was Pimp My House. I looked over at Vaughn; his expression was clearly the same. We both dashed into the house, like little kids. He went straight for the big screen television; I went straight for the bedroom upstairs. Finding the master bedroom, the bags that I was carrying hit the floor with a large thud. Besides the fact that the bedroom was twice the size of my living room at home, I looked to see that the walk-in closet was already filled with clothes. Guessing one of the doors that was closed was the bathroom, I took my chances and opened the door. Now, my knees nearly gave out. It was a his and her bathroom, large enough to fit twenty people in. I looked on what would hopefully be my side, seeing a large vanity, a shower, and a bathtub.

"YES!" I heard Vaughn shout from downstairs. I went downstairs to see him transfixed to the TV, and laughed.

"Vaughn, you haven't even seen the rest of the house."

"I don't think I need to," He said, not even turning away from the television once.

Oh, once you see what I can do, you will.

While he was hypnotized by the sports channel, I took the opportunity to check out the rest of the rooms. Cameras were cleverly placed all around in every room, making it seem eerily familiar to Big Brother. I went back up to the master bedroom and looked around, heaving out a sigh. No cameras were in the room.

"Vaughn, do you know that there are cameras everywhere?" I asked when I went back into the living room. I shouldn't have even bothered, he was still channel surfing. I shook my head and went into the kitchen, seeing a large basket filled with various foods. A note was attached, and I ripped it away from the basket.

Welcome to St. Louis, Agents Vaughn and Bristow, or now Michael and Lauren King. We hope you enjoy the sights here, it's a great place. We also need you to report into the bank as soon as you arrive. Go to the receptionist desk, and use your aliases. The woman at the desk will show you where to go.

--The St. Louis CIA Office

"Michael!" I shouted out into the living room. In a matter of seconds, he skidded into the kitchen, his face flushed. I could only smirk seeing his worried expression turning into frustration and embarrassment. "We have to report."

"You mean I can't enjoy sports for the day?" He asked, crossing his arms.

I smiled, setting the note down. "Get dressed."

"Alright."

xxxxxxx

Vaughn and I arrived at the bank wearing our business attire. Walking up to the front desk, the receptionist smiled warmly at us.

"Hi, I'm Lauren King, and this here is Michael," I said, and the receptionist's face lightened up.

"Oh, hello! Come with me, please," She said in a happy voice, as she got up from her seat and led us into a hall. "Agents Bristow and Vaughn, it's good to have you here in St. Louis. Everyone here is excited to meet you."

"Meet us? Are we going to the CIA office?" Vaughn asked.

"Yes, but following procedure, anytime now that you go to the office, you will have to go through the bank. If you have any information, you just come to the front desk; all of us at the desk are with the CIA. We will take you to the office from here."

We walked through another hall, and to a lone elevator. Getting in, it took us to the ground level. We got out, getting into a car nearby with tinted windows. Now I was starting to realize how serious this operation was. By the look on Vaughn's face, he was starting to get the impression, too.

Arriving at the CIA office, which consisted of going through even more security than at the JTF, about all of the activity seized when Vaughn and I stepped into the large office. Seeing all the agents, analysts, and other people looking at us made me nervous. The receptionist that was at our side noted the complete silence and smiled.

"Everyone here has heard about the work that you two did in taking down The Alliance. You guys are probably celebrities around this office."

Knowing this, I couldn't help but to smile. To think that the people here were just waiting to see us, knowing the stuff we went through to take down the biggest terrorist organization yet, had me amazed.

She took us to an office, and upon knocking, we all walked in, seeing a man about the age of Devlin typing away at the computer. He looked up at us all with a smile on his face and nodded, the receptionist leaving a second later.

"Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn, glad to have you here. Take a seat."

We took our seats at the couch in front of his desk. I was really starting to like these people here.

"We're so glad to have you here. When the offices in LA told us of the terrorist activity going through here, we were surprised. Then, when they proposed you two coming in to go undercover and take them out, we we're more than anxious to have you two in. As you probably know, we all know about SD-6 and the rest of the SD cells. Once again, great job."

I could feel the blush rising up on my cheeks. I was used to compliments, but every time that I got them, I knew why I stayed in this job.

"But why I brought you here so quickly, there is a mission we have planned for you two."

Already? Don't we get time to like, unpack? Relax? Sleep with Vaughn?

"We have confirmed intel that Mr. Sark will be at Busch Stadium tomorrow, meeting with Anatoliy Gregorev, known for his arms dealing, mostly in Russia."

"So why doesn't Sark go over to Russia to meet with him?"

"From what we know here, Sark needs to stay in this area, or just the United States. He's been having a lot of meeting involving this new organization. Now for this mission, Mr. Sark and Mr. Gregorev have terrace seats, up along the first base line. Agent Vaughn, you will be a hot dog vendor, and have a microphone on you that you will implant close to Sark and Gregorev so we can record their conversation."

I nearly busted out laughing...Vaughn as a hot dog vendor? I could imagine it now.

"And Agent Bristow, you will be doing recon from the other side of the stadium. We have our tech people working on getting a special pair of sunglasses done that have zooming technology. You both will be outfitted with comm. pieces. This takes place tomorrow, good luck."

Both Vaughn and I nodded, getting up from our seats. I think this is the kind of mission I needed, getting a tan and watching Vaughn. "Go Cardinals," I mutter, but loud enough to where Vaughn could hear me. I look up to see him growl and glare at me.

Who wants a hot dog?