AN: Well...I had another baby. A boy this time, his name is Chase. With all the baby stuff like doctor appointments and such I kind of forgot about this story. You see, I love you all dearly but I'm terribly disorganized and some things just tend to fade. With that firm and whole hearted apology in mind would you please put down your pitchforks and torches and prepare to read chapter three of Formal Wear, Fugitives,
and Fangs.

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The man in the chair might have been an old thirty or a young sixty. He had a throaty voice that sounded like he had once smoked but had eventually given up the bad habit. He had salt and pepper hair with average middle-aged skin and a pair of piercing ice blue eyes that looked right in your soul. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit that gave him the look of a haggared old businessman. Gwen stared at him for a moment and then asked, "Who told you about us?"

"The person who contacted us had one request, that their name not be mentioned. I think I'll follow through on that single request. Please,
take a seat." The man said. "My name is Agent Jones."

Damon snorted. "You're joking right?"

"Is my name funny to you Mr. Salvatore?" Agent Jones asked.

Damon nodded. "I think it's freaking hilarious. Agents Smith, Doe, and Jones."

Gwen gave Damon a smile before turning it to Agent Jones. "What exactly is it that you want from us Mr. Jones?"

He gave her a look that said he had noticed the clear lack of title but continued on anyways. "We need better agents Miss Bright."

"And how are we supposed to help you with that?" Gwen asked. "I mean, Damon was a soldier in the Civil War way back when but a lot has changed in fighting since then and I'm just an accountant."

"You're more than an accountant my dear. You're a psychic. You have a natural sense that no amount of training is going to give my agents." Agent Jones said. "And as for Mr. Salvatore, well, I'm sure you've seen the benefits of his eternal life."

"Listen buddy, we don't want to work for you." Damon said. "You can't make us work for you."

Agent Jones nodded solemnly. "You're absolutely right Mr. Salvatore. I can't make you work for me. Unfortunately, I was not placed in the position to get your kind of strength and speed. Miss Bright, on the other hand, is still very much physically human." He waved at Agent Smith who pulled a gun on Gwen. "A bullet to her stomach will eventually kill her. You could, of course, turn her before she died. Then I'd have a psychic vampire with living breathing family."

Damon sat silently as he swallowed that. Gwen watched him grate his teeth together as he struggled to keep his pride from spilling over. Gwen knew what choice he'd make, everyone in the room did. That didn't make him choose any faster. "Fine."

Gwen waited until Agent Smith had holstered his gun to ask Agent Jones a question. "I refuse to make this a long term thing."

"Meaning?" Agent Jones asked.

"She means that you obviously have a specific case in mind that you want us to work on. We will willing work on the case but when we are done we want your word that you'll let us go." Damon said.

Gwen laughed. "I don't give two craps about your word. I want a signed contract with multiple copies that I can send to someone I trust as well as my family's lawyer."

Agent Jones hesitated before nodding. "Agreed. How's about we get started on that case?"

After the two of them nodded their heads Agent Jones handed them each a file containing information on one Sebastian Conner. Damon flipped through the file somewhat haphazardly. "Who's the playboy?"

"Sebastian Conner." Agent Jones said. "Billionaire, playboy, and vampire. We got intel that this man was being hired as an assassin. Instead of a gun or knife like most assassins he uses them as meals."

Gwen caught Damon shift in his seat, perhaps thinking about those who lost their lives to his hunger. "You want us to catch a vampire assassin?"

"I'm sure the two of you can handle this." Agent Jones said. "Now, as I was saying, we've attempted to send in agents before now."

"Have any returned?" Damon asked.

Agent Jones nodded."The pieces were all mailed back to us after about a week or so of the agent being on the case."

Damon nodded. "So he knows you guys are on to him. I wonder why he's sticking around. I'd personally cut my losses and hide out for a couple decades until everyone thinks I should be dead."

"We think he's staying here for the big payout coming up. You see, we had been planning on letting it go, you know, cutting our losses and such. That is, we were until we heard chatter of his next victim." Agent Jones said.

"Who?" Gwen asked.

Agent Jones sighed. "The President of the United States."

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"I don't understand why I have to change clothes." Gwen said. "I was perfectly happy in my jeans and a t-shirt to work out."

"Jeans are no good for working out babe." Damon said. He took a moment to admire his fiery red head in a pair of lime green yoga pants that hugged her figure and a lime green top to match. "It's like me working out in my leather jacket."

"As least they gave you something semi attractive to wear though." Gwen said.

Damon looked down at his own ensemble of black sweat pants and black t-shirt. It was far from the most attractive outfit he'd ever worn but it wasn't like anybody was going to see him in it. "I don't see the point in working out anyways."

"That's because you can eat an entire chocolate cake and still keep those delicious six pack abs of yours. Us mere mortals actually have to do stuff." She said.

"You look fine to me." Damon said with a smirk.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "And I had to diet for three months to get there."

"I thought Agent Asshole was going to send down someone?" Damon asked.

Just then the gym doors flung open. A big black man at least a half a foot taller than Damon and three-hundred pounds of muscle walked in. "Sorry I'm late folks. I assume you used this time for stretching."

"Yeah right." Damon said.

"I will not take that kind of attitude in my gym. My name is Seargant Pepe and I will demand your respect." Pepe said.

Damon snorted. "Pepe?"

"Is there something wrong with my name?" Pepe asked.

Damon shook his head but his body shook with laughter. "Not at all."

Gwen watched their bickering as she stretched her arms. "As much as I'd love to watch the twenty-four hour marathon of 'Mine Is Bigger Than Yours' do you think we could get back to what we're supposed to be doing?"

Pepe nodded. "Absolutely ma'am. Now, Agent Jones told me that most of your training would be self-defense."

"Okay, what is Damon supposed to do?" Gwen asked.

Pepe glared at Damon. "We're going to test him for his limits and then he's going to help us with you."

"Great." Damon said.

"I think we'll start with push-ups." Pepe said to Damon. "Drop and give me three-hundred."

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AN: Again, sorry about the wait. Hope you like the chapter. The next one will be up soon.