Rated: PG-13 for language
"Sands Victorious"
"Your methods are questionable."
Sands snorted at Reynolds, waving his hand, trailing smoke from his cigarette in a thin rill.
"The mission's done. Drug ring's gone and I left them in no position to regroup and start over. What are you complaining about?"
"Well…it was rumored that you were…in a relationship…with at least one of the Paulings."
Sands raised an eyebrow at his superior, smiling craftily.
"Does it matter?"
Reynolds sighed.
"No. I guess it doesn't—job's done. Congratulations. We have a new mission for you already, unless you'd like to rest first."
"Fuck no. I'm CIA—I never sleep."