Agent Sands chuckled to himself, always finding his way to get in his own perverse kick and twist on everything. He slid his sunglasses down from his face and folded them up, resting them on his lap while he sat in the cab and mumbled where it should head off to. A good few blocks away from the Headquarters of the CIA he 'oh so subtly' hollered for the taxi to stop, slapped a couple of bills onto the man's shoulder and ditched out the door.

He walked aimlessly down one way and then the other, and when he was certain that no one was trailing him, he agitatedly tapped his index finger against his side and then strolled into the main offices… and walked ominously behind the swarms of people, until he saw a plaque on a door just ahead for Charley's cubicle…

A woman stealthy approached Agent Sands, and put her hand on his shoulder. Without thought- a swift reaction, he had his hand inside his trousers and whipped out a gun so fast it was to her temple before the rest of her fingers were on him.

"Sands…" they young lady gasped.

"Oceane?" he said with a trace of a smile and took the gun from her head, looking around suspiciously at the scene he'd created. "Your failure to appear at meetings at designated times resulted in forfeiture of protection..."

"Missed one did I?" her lips tauntingly glided over his ear. "Shame as it is- the only protection I need you can't give to me…" Oceane whispered seductively.

"I need to get in to see Charley, and you're- you're the woman that can do that?" Sands said.

"6 months away…" she paused and ran her hand slowly down his chest.

"Get me in…." Sands said and trailed his fingers expertly down her spine, knowing it's every curve and bone. "And I'll give you something that you want."

"You don't know what I want," she said and gasped as his other hand approached her inner thigh.

"No? I'm all for taking up new tastes, but … have all of yours changed?" Sands asked as his fingers slid into her skirt and felt the remnants of her body's reaction. "Perhaps I do know- after all… get me in, or I'll get in myself…" he opened up his trousers' zipper but instead of letting himself out, he slipped his gun back in.

"Never," Oceane groaned as his hand pushed away her under garments and his fingertips slowly played her.

"Give me the key… or plea for me," Sands said looking deep into her cat eyes.

Oceane undid a button of her blouse and pulled the key out from the center of her bosom and pulled his hand from out of her crotch and smashed the jagged edges of the key into his palm. "Never," she hissed and spun, golden ringlets of curls bouncing onto her neck as the emeralds of her eyes disappeared from his sight.

"Are you- trying to give me a boner?" he breathed in pain of how his cock was reacting to her. And he groaned under his breath as she turned on the heels of her stilettos and floated off into the crowd. Sands jabbed his key- much to his dismay, not metaphorically, into the door, and flung it open. He smirked, evil intent dripping from his lips. "The flower shoppe doesn't carry long stemmed red roses any more beautiful, I- I apologize." Sands said, and 'half-heartedly' might be accurate, though, what then of the notion that he had none?

Charley sighed, if the CIA didn't pay him an enormous cheque by the week he never would have stood this banter a moment… but killing your company's most valuable asset, well- let's just say that was frowned upon by those higher up the food chain. He watched his mind strangle Sands, until the very breath was choked out of him, and a grin of satisfaction wiped over Charley's face.

"My letters- ?" Sands said impatiently. "You know that withholding vital information from a federal officer is a crime…. especially when that officer would pay handsomely for it but would NOT think twice about ripping those pants off your hips and butt fucking you to death!" he said with a firm but quiet and menacing tone to his voice.