A/N: Thanks y'all for the reviews!

Chapter 2

Confusion I would have expected. Fear I would have expected. Not the frustration I'm seeing now.

"Look, Jenny, I'm not that big into field trips. Kinda grew out them after eighth grade," he replied smartly but I can tell it's all just an act - the folded arm's gives it away. He's already on the defensive, probably mentally going through moves in case I attack him.

"My name isn't Jenny. Get dressed."

He pauses now and peers at me questioningly before finally asking the question I know is bugging him. "Then who are you?"

"No one really knows. Some say I'm an alien from the ex-planet Pluto, others say I'm really a Russian Mafia member, sent to destroy Ronald McDonald." I am currently very proud over how well I can fake a conspiratory whisper.

"Funny."

I grin at him and lift a shoulder in a small shrug. "Come on, just go get dressed."

Once again, he assesses me, looking at me from head to toe, then, "I was wondering why you had a gun."

I'm only mildly surprised that he noticed but figure not caring would be best. I merely make a note to myself to not underestimate him. "No harm in being prepared."

"How do you know I'm not going to jump out the window in my bedroom?"

"Because there's a very large man waiting for you at the bottom. Come on, Colby. Be a sport. I can't exactly bring you in looking like you haven't slept for five days. Go shower, change and get your butt out here."

He doesn't comment on the lengthened list of chores but scoffs, shaking his head. "Fine. Whatever." Granger leaves, down the hall and in a few minutes I hear the water running. I glance at my watch, wait until two minutes have passed and quietly walk down the hall. I find the only door that's closed and put my ear against it.

"Granger?"

"God, what now? Am I supposed to shave my legs, too?"

I hold back a giggle. People in my line of work don't giggle...well, we're not supposed... "Nah. Just checking to see if you'd bolted yet. I'd like to give Braden a heads up if I can. You know, so he can pull out his four by four and machine gun." Kneeling in front of the door I put my hand on the rug, a few inches away from the slit under the door. Warm steam is floating beneath it. He's barely in there and the rooms already filling with steam? How hot would the water have to be to do that? Too hot to be comfortable. Especially if it was a quick one meant to freshen him up.

"Haha. Can I shower in peace now?"

I stand up crossing my arms over my stomach, trying to decide if he's a flight risk or not. "Whatever. Hey you got any food around here that's still edible? I missed lunch."

"I dunno. Check for yourself."

Oh you'd love that. I spend ten minutes going from cupboard to cupboard while you sneak out. "Fine. You know, you could really work on your hosting skills." I leave, 'accidentally' knocking over a glass once I get in the kitchen and making a big racket. "Just a glass!" I yell, but he doesn't respond. Pulling out my phone again I dial quickly.

"Numero Uno Lookout speaking, how may I help you?"

Oh Braden. Fighting a smile I say, "Just letting you know that I think he might be making his move."

"Might? What's this I hear? Could it be...no! Not doubt!"

"Shut up, dude," I joke around. "Look, even if he hasn't pulled an Elvis I don't want him to think I'll be checking up on him every two seconds. If he's going to be stuck with us for the long run it's best he learns to trust me from the beginning."

He made a sound that screamed bullshit with a capital 'B' and said, "It would save me the trouble of chasing him."

"You need the workout anyways. I noticed you were getting a bit unkempt around the waist the other day," I tease relentlessly, knowing he won't take it seriously, especially considering he's one of the most physically capable person I know. It just tickles him pink every time a woman blatantly checks him out, or the occasional male. The man has a body to envy... Come to think of it, Colby would par up pretty nicely.

"Bah! You're just jealous I beat you in that arm wrestle."

"Beat me? Ha! I let you win."

"Keep telling yourself that, sugar, if it helps you sleep at night."

I laugh at him, and notice the water is now off. Maybe I misjudged him a bit. "Uh-huh. Whatever." I hear the door open, and moment's later drawers being yanked open and shoved closed. He's probably only wearing a towel around his waist... "And next time you call me 'sugar'... I'll kill you."

"Ouch. You wouldn't dare."

"I so would dare. In fact, I do dare."

"I'll just have to haunt your ass."

"Pff. You'd try but we both know you would fail miserably."

"I fail at nothing."

"Except, getting a certain computer whiz to notice you."

I can imagine him perfectly, leaning against his black SUV, pursing his lips together and squinting his green eyes that contrast beautifully against his cocoa colored skin. "Touché."

"Patience, man. She'll get it someday."

"Right. You say that like I've never taken her out to dinner, or bought her roses on Valentines day, or told her how gorgeous she looked, or tried to kiss her, or tried to kiss her again the next day, or bought her a heart-shaped box of chocolate or-"

"All right, all right! I get the point," I chuckle, shaking my head, trying to keep an eye out for any noise or lack thereof. "She'll probably never notice."

"Maybe she's a lesbian."

"She's not a lesbian! Just because a girl-"

"-woman." Is it just me or is it backwards as hell that a male is correcting me on the use of the term 'girl'?

"-woman isn't swooning over you and worshiping the ground you walk on doesn't mean she's gay."

A throat clears behind me and I swing around, fingers curling around the gun. "Damn, way to sneak up on me," I growl, releasing my grip.

"What?" Braden asks.

"Just Granger," I say into the phone.

"What? You mean he didn't split on you? Must be a first."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. Guys are scared of you, woman."

"Shut up!" I hang up and ignore the look I'm getting from Granger. His hair is still wet, curling a bit around his neck and face but he's actually wearing jeans

(dear LORD)

and a black pullover with an open neck. He didn't shave his facial hair and I silently wish I could tie him down and do it for him...among many other things that I won't go into detail with.

"Everything okay?" He stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans against the counter, a few feet away from me.

"Fine. Let's go."

"Where?"

"To the car." Duh.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. I decide that I really do not like this man any more. "And then?"

Really really don't like him.

"I'm not telling you," I scoff. "Come on, my goon is waiting. I'm sure he has another great comeback by now and is just dying to tell me." I lead him to out of the kitchen by taking his arm.

"Your goon?" He gives me another strange look and shakes his head. I'm sure that by now he thinks I work for the CIA and he's suspected of treason and we're going to bring him to the sewers and torture him until he spills. If only it were that simple.

"Yep. He makes sure all my dates behave. Usually works pretty good. And if they don't..."

"And by dates you mean other people you've kidnapped?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not kidnapping you. Just behave yourself and you'll be fine." I slap him on the back and push him out the front door.

---

Fearing my wrath Braden agreed to let me drive to the airport that isn't real, while the buzz of the helicopter that isn't connected to the Spy Apprehension Agency (which technically doesn't exist, and therefore I don't work for it, neither does anyone else, and Colby Granger never will either) is constantly above our heads. The tall black man - also known as that guy who's been in love with Cleo since the beginning of time - is sitting on the bench behind me, next to Granger. The silence, though I will never admit, it is driving me crazy but I can't listen to the radio without Braden breaking out and singing along with every word, syllable and sound. I'm sure he would try out for American Idol, if he didn't have previous engagements. Plus, someone who technically doesn't exist can't be famous. Oh, and Cleo despises reality TV with a passion so Idol just wouldn't do.

I hate it that my eyes keep darting to the rear-view mirror, trying to get a glimpse at our new recruitment. Most would think that I would be able to control myself more than I am, and usually I can, but there's something about him that I just can't quite figure out.

If I don't get blown up, shot, or poisoned, I know that man will sooner be the death of me than old age. I'm not quite sure where I get that notion, but since I haven't been able to take my mind off of him since we left his apartment (five hours ago) I think it's safe to say that chances of me figuring it out are slim to none.

"Want me to drive, Eden?" Braden leans forward.

"No." I snap unintentionally and sigh. "Sorry."

He shrugs his huge shoulders and settles back down. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to you being bitchy."

"I'm not bitchy...just..."

"Having PMS?"

I blush for the first time in my life and my gaze snaps back to the mirror. His eyes are smiling. Ugh, that Colby Granger. His mouth is perfectly neutral, and so is everything else, but his eyes. They're...smiling! I clench the steering wheel and mull over how eyes aren't supposed to be able to do that. It's just not right. I hate it.

"No, Braden. I'm not having PMS, thank you very much, but I can give you a dose of teenage moodiness if you desire it. Or, I can tell Cleo that you're gay and then you'll never get her to so much as look at you."

He holds up his hands in surrender but when I look away he turns to Granger and smirks proudly at him, highly amused. Somehow, finding ways to push my buttons has become a game to him. I just know that this is something Granger is going to be good at. Supremely good. I dread the day he gets sworn in and D will inevitably assign him my unofficial partner because... "...As we all know, inter-gender relationships can not only be helpful for one's mental health, but they encourage a deeper means of communication due to the gap between male and female beings which means a deeper sense of trust. And, as I'm sure we have all discovered, trust is the key component to any partnership..." Blah blah BLAH!

I have heard this speech thirty-two and a half times since my first day. I'll probably hear it a few hundred more times before I die. My utter distaste must have shown because Granger was snickering, "You okay up there, Eden? You look like you've been force-fed a sack of lemons."

I snarl at the use of my name and glare at him through the mirror, which is probably a good thing, considering my glare is the one that comes closest to actually being able to kill. "Braden can you hit him for me?"

"No. Well, I can but I like this dude. Any guy that can stand up to you is someone I admire."

Also, another speech I have heard way too many times for my sanity to remain intact much longer. I literally growled.

"Uh-oh. Watch out, Colby. When she makes that sound she's either really turned on or really pissed off."

We both snap our eyes towards him and mimic, "What?"

"Braden, if you don't shut up I'm pulling over and you're walking to the tarmac. And then you can learn to frickin' fly."

"I'm feeling some resentment towards me. Maybe I shouldn't have alluded to the fact that we've had sex before."

"Braden!" I screech..

Granger looks at him, looks at me and back at him. Braden nods solemnly. "Yep. I've tapped that."

"Uhh..."

I find myself actually feeling sorry for the guy...and then I spot something. Jealousy. Oh-ho he did not just look at me like that! He is so in for it. He knows me for five and a half hours and he's already staking his claim?! I don't think so, buddy, not on my lifetime and trust me, I'll out-live you. "We were undercover. It was either screw the idiot or have my kneecaps broken and then get a Columbian Necktie."

"Oh yeah? I was pretending you were Cleo. Beat that."

"I was pretending I was a dead fish and that was a horrible nightmare due to the fact that I wasn't in the water and about to get filleted and eaten by a five-year-old, and then he would choke on my bones and have to be taken to the hospital."

Personally, I thought that was pretty good. Sure beats Braden's little piece of smack.

"A dead fish?" Braden raises an eyebrow. "Woman, you were not a dead fish, I can tell you that much, and so could the people who had 'hidden' cameras and microphones in our room, and so could everyone in a five-mile radius." He turned to Granger as I planned and mentally executed my plan to perforate and murder him. "You know, if she was faking when we had to...you know...shag ass, I just might pay to see the real thing."

"You're sick, Braden," I grumble, shaking my head.

"I sure do envy her boyfriend...well, if she had one," he says, completely ignoring me.

"Aren't you supposed to be in love or something?"

This time he responds, probably just so he can talk about (and I quote) the most amazing, wonderful, gorgeous woman on the (unquote) damned (quote) planet.(Unquote) "Cleo, yeah. I know, but I mean, what am I supposed to do? The woman doesn't even know I exist, unless the future of the country relies on me."

Finally, we arrive at the tarmac, stopping me from saying something very unkind to one of my closest friends. (Would have been something to the effect of "Grow some balls you dumbass and frickin tell her you're in damned love with her instead of dancing around the bush as close as you can without scratching your damn pretty face!) Yeah. Something like that.

"Is someone gonna tell me where we're going yet, or should I call someone to report me missing?"

Oh yeah. He's still here. I had forgotten about him in my anger for a few seconds. I sigh. "Like I said, Granger, we're going on a field trip."

"Yep," Braden grins. "With guns, and bombs, and undercover assignments and nemesis's. All that crazy shit. It's like a playground. But for adults."

Granger raises an eyebrow and turns to look at me in the rear-view mirror. "Is it too late to run for my life?"

A/N: So, reviews are love, and you know what they say: love makes the world go round! So contribute to the never-ending spinning of this dear planet and press that purple button. Christian Bale is also love...but he's married and I'm not legal yet so I'll have to rely on you guys to get the lovin' that I need, lol. Am I getting creepy yet? No? Then I haven't done my job yet ;)