The workout had proved several things.
Firstly, that Princess really could keep up with Mark, secondly that she could use Jason's weapons and thirdly, that when she wore the Condor's uniform, certain adjustments needed to be made to the normal underwear worn by the Condor; or rather, the underwear not usually worn by the Condor.
Both Mark and Anderson were insistent on the third, and after watching the video of their training, Princess agreed and was currently in the fitting room of her favourite lingerie store remedying this.
She added a few other purchases from the store – smiling to herself as she remembered the look on Mark's face as she first appeared in the Condor uniform. There was no doubt about it – he certainly knew that she was a female now. There was definitely something, well, liberating about the Condor's uniform. Form fitting, yet comfortable, she'd been astonished at her own confidence whilst wearing it. Just the sheer freedom of not wearing a skirt, and she loved the larger wings that gave her flight more impetus.
Most of all, she loved the thought that she could actually not have to live up to people's preconceived ideas about her. As the Condor, she didn't have to be the sweet, nice girl. That was the most liberating thought of all, and she was still grinning when she came into the J, and Keyop looked up at her. "Buy me anything?" he chirped? She shook her head. "Nope."
"What about me?" asked a deeper voice in her ear and she turned to see Mark standing close behind her.
"Perhaps," she said, hoping that he had meant what she thought – hoped – he meant. Deliberately, she threw a flirtatious look at him, letting the bag she was holding open slightly so that he could see the lacy items she had purchased. She was rewarded with the way his eyes hooded slightly and the catch in his breath.
"Just so you know," he said, his voice even deeper, huskier, his hand slipping around her waist and tightening slightly, "I notice everything about you. Always."
And then he stepped back, so swiftly she wondered if it had been her imagination. He picked up the soda from the counter and went back to where he had been sitting and looked at her.
"Soda?" he asked, gesturing to the seat beside him.
No. It hadn't been her imagination, and score one for her new "Condor" attitude. She smiled and nodded. "Let me put these upstairs first," she said, gliding towards the stairs. She ran upstairs not even looking where the bags landed when she had thrown them into her room, dashing back down again seconds later.
Even so, he had moved faster. A different booth, one of the back ones, and two cold drinks on the table in front of him. He caught her as she went to slip into the seat opposite and drew her down beside him.
Then the pair of them floundered. They had moved so far beyond their usual areas of flirtation, that neither of them knew where to go next, much less how to do next!
"So," she said unnerved by his closeness, by the hand still on hers, "when do we leave?"
Mark seemed relieved by the question, and she felt her heart drop.
"Tiny's checking out the Phoenix now, but we're still waiting on two more things."
"Oh?"
"They're still gonna check the cell Jason's in after we get him out – and for this to work, he still has to appear to be there. So I've asked Zark to rustle me up a duplicate Jason and a duplicate Swan."
"Robots?" Mark nodded.
"All it needs to do is sit in the cell and act like Jason."
"Basically try to destroy its surroundings and snarl at guards, then."
Mark grinned at her. "Just about."
At that moment, the picture on the television behind the bar changed, and their attention was captured by Keyop's cry "Zoltar again!"
"I still have your team-mate my G-Force friends," and Zoltar pulled Jason into the picture. Jason looked sullen, but unharmed. "All you need to do to secure his release is to turn over control of your planet to me! My patience grows thin. You have 24 hours." The screen resumed the previous program and Mark looked at Princess.
"At least we know he's OK. Zoltar sounds a bit desperate, though. Anderson was right. By not rushing straight in, I think we've spooked him."
Princess was sitting up very straight. "Did you see Jason's fingers? He was signalling us." She raised her communicator. "Zark, Princess here. Can you please upload copies of all Zoltar's transmissions about Jason to the Phoenix. I want to review them en-route."
Mark shook his head. "How could we not notice before?"
"We were too busy trying to track the transmission. It's not your fault, Mark. Jason knows we're doing all we can, and he's doing his best to help us. The last signal from him was an all clear, so that we know he's unhurt. I want to check the others to see what else he's managed to pass on."
"It's certainly a weight off my mind, though," said Mark. "I was worrying that he was injured. If he was, then getting him out would be difficult to say the least."
"You know, I sort of feel sorry for the Spectrans. Jason'll be furious he's been captured and then to have to lie low, it's going make him even madder. Then we're going to set him free and destroy the base."
Mark grinned evilly as all the implications of the situation percolated through his mind. "Yeah."
"You're enjoying this, Mark!"
"And you're not?" He wagged a finger in her face. "Remember you're only pretending to be Jason. Don't get any ideas."
"Ideas? Me?" She was tempted to bite his finger.
"I mean it, Princess. Don't do anything rash. Please."
"You just don't want to have to cope with having to control two Condor's."
Mark looked into her eyes, laughed lightly and gently tapped her on the nose. "I can handle two Condor's with one hand tied behind my back. What I couldn't cope with is if anything happened to you that I could have prevented."
She caught her breath, but decided to push. "Not even a little tiny rashness?" she asked, allowing herself to push his hair back off his forehead, revelling in the feel of it against her fingers, and moving her other hand from under his, sliding it up his arm.
His response was more than she had hoped as he caught the hand from his hair and brought it to his lips. "Perhaps a little bit," he said softly, nibbling on the tips of her fingers. "But only if I'm involved."
Greatly daring, she moved her hand from his arm to around his waist and moved closer, replacing her fingers with her lips against his. "I wouldn't dream of not involving you," she whispered, entirely satisfied with how this was turning out, especially since Mark's arms had also slipped around her.
Until their bracelets chirped. Mark swore softly and moved to answer, his free hand, however, he kept firmly around her.
She was more gratified by the cursing that had occurred when the bracelet chirped (although she loved the feel of his arm around her, fingers lightly, even absently, stroking her side). She forced her mind back to the conversation, taking in the fact that everything was ready to go.
Mark looked at her. "Are you ready?" She nodded. "Keyop," he bellowed, "Let's go."
They slid out of the booth, Mark still keeping his arm around her. "Can you give me a ride? Tiny'll pick us up." Her mouth was dry and all she could do was nod again. He smiled at her and, after looking around, gave her a swift kiss. "Nothing to worry about."
He darted away to haul Keyop out and she touched her fingers to her lips. "That's what he thinks," she whispered.
