"That was so sweet of Kowalski to set us up on this surprise date," Marlene complemented, "he's good with excuses, I never realised I'd be meeting you here."
"Yeah," Skipper muttered, adjusting his tie uncomfortably. He was not looking forward to the movie, though that was the least of his problems. He was falling for her fast, and he knew it. He also knew, if things went as planned, that wouldn't be a good thing to happen, "Kowalski's always got some kind of ulterior motive, though."
"Don't be so paranoid." Marlene laughed.
"You think I'm joking? Anyone would end up paranoid spending enough time around him."
"Well maybe I can fix that," Marlene placed a slender hand in his causing Skipper to blush almost instantly. However, he didn't move his hand as they left the restaurant, stepping out onto the street.
"Excuse me, sir," one of the waiters called, "you have an urgent call from a Galileo Newton."
"Galileo Newton, eh?" Skipper repeated, a half smile on his face, "Sorry, Marlene, I'll be back in a minute,"
"Alright." Marlene watched as Skipper disappeared inside, then followed him, keeping just out of sight, but within earshot as her date answered the phone.
"Galileo Newton? Seriously Kowalski?" Skipper scoffed. Then he paused, his expression morphing from amused to serious, "I see… tricked you back did he...? Yes I'll get you out… I'm looking forward to hearing your explanation for that." Skipper hung up the phone, and Marlene had to dive behind a pillar to avoid being seen. Immediately she took a shortcut, pushing through the crowd, and was back out front with a few seconds to spare.
"Everything alright?" Marlene asked, noting Skipper's strange expression.
"Sorry, Marlene, emergency at work," Skipper apologised, "You know your way home?"
"Yes," Marlene replied, slightly stunned by the move, though it was kind of obvious after overhearing the conversation, "At least, I think…"
"Good," Skipper interrupted, "I'm really sorry about this, but…"
"I get it. I still don't know what you do, but it sounds important." Marlene stared after him, long past the point he disappeared around the corner, shivering slightly in her thin dress, though her coat was only over her arm. Her expression was sad, although she knew she would be seeing him again. That was what she was dreading, though at the same time, as much as she knew she should, she couldn't find it in herself to let him go.
Private hated being captured. He didn't mind actually being caught per se – people were rarely hurt – it was all the angry words he didn't like. Actually, it wasn't even that. It was the years of bottled up hate, the sense of an unquenchable thirst for revenge, and the millions of psychologically unhealthy coping mechanisms that lay behind those words that Private couldn't stand.
"Alright, Skipper should be here in 10.77342 to 5.2291 minutes," Kowalski whispered, pulling himself up from the precarious position in which he hung upside down from a makeshift lasso made from a chain of paper bag handles. It had been the only way to reach the phone without the lobster in the room across the hall spotting them.
"Oo took you' time." Rico grumbled. It was hard enough to hold up another man's weight by the makeshift rope, but to do so whilst lying in a ventilation shaft was another story all together.
"Rico, I think he's coming back!" Private hissed from his position in the room they were supposed to still be trapped in. Immediately the other two team mates shuffled as fast as they could through the vent into the other room, and hastily replaced the cover, or as best as they could bound hand and foot. Almost immediately, the door opened and Blowhole entered.
"Sorry about the wait. I should have some kind of a decent demise set up within a few minutes," Blowhole stated, "In the meantime, why were you so anxious that one of my agents appeared to be killed by you?"
"We ain' sayn' no'in." Rico grunted.
"Ditto." Kowalski concurred.
"It would be quite unethical to disclose a client's details," Private answered, "I hope you can understand that as one professional to another."
"Why thank you for all that information, pen-gu-in," Blowhole replied sarcastically, smirking at the bewildered youngest team member.
"Leave the talking to me, Private." Kowalski sighed.
"Now why would Jones want one of my agents…?"
"Doc!" a lobster shouted from down the hall, "somebody set off an alarm down in the sun extinguisher heat exchange tunnels!"
Skipper walked as swiftly and quietly as he could along the maintenance catwalk above a sea of boiling water, dodging the various motion sensors with ease. He knew pretty much all of them off by heart; Blowhole should be more careful just which blueprints he didn't bother to incinerate. Suddenly an alarm went off, that Skipper recognised all too well. He looked behind him to see the offending sensor blinking bright red.
At first he was confused. He'd passed that sensor almost thirty seconds ago. Then he noticed the torn strip of light brown material, "Marlene?!" Immediately a familiar face ducked out from behind a pile of equipment. Skipper didn't know whether to be furious or just outright worried, but there was no turning back, "Come on, the guards will be here in a moment," Skipper hissed, grabbing her roughly by the arm, and pulling her along the catwalk. He didn't have time for sentimentality.
Marlene looked down at below her. She and skipper were on one of the ledges above the room, and the large backpack left behind confirmed this had been Rico's sniper position.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Skipper asked, breaking the silence that had been undisturbed since she'd been discovered.
"I got lost on the way home, and well, I spotted you," Marlene lied, "I was going to ask you how to get back, but by the time I'd caught up you were already in those tunnel things."
"And the fact I seemed to be sneaking in never clued you into the fact it might not be a good idea to follow?"
"Nope."
"Well, we're going to have to talk about that later. I've got a good idea of the lay of the land now. I want you to stay here and…" Marlene's face contorted into a scowl, "No you aren't going to do that, are you," Skipper sighed, "Alright, you can follow, but don't make any noise, stay close behind me, and follow my instructions to the letter."
"Yes sir."
"There goes rule no. 1…"
"Didn't you say Skippah was going to be here in five to ten minutes?" Private asked, slightly worried.
"5.2291 to 10.77342," the scientist replied.
"He' 'ont normally late." Rico commented.
"Do you think something happened to…?" Private began to ask, but was cut off by the sound of a key in the lock. The four watched with anticipation, hoping, though it was unlikely, that it was Skipper. No, it couldn't be Skipper. He'd kick the door down.
"I told you it would be faster to pick the lock." A female voice commented.
"I don't normally carry hair pins around with me," skipper grumbled in reply. The door opened, revealing the two, covered in a whole variety of greases, dust and dirt, Marlene's evening dress torn away for mobility high above the knee, "Alright, Marlene," Skipper handed her his pocket knife, "get to work on Private." Immediately he moved towards Rico, who looked like he'd already tried to eat through his bonds.
"You didn't seriously take Marlene…" Kowalski began to ask incredulously, until he was silenced by a glare from Skipper, "I'm not going to ask."
"How'd you get yourselves caught?" Skipper tactfully changed the subject.
"Rico's rifle jammed and Private panicked," Kowalski replied.
"Yeah right."
"Seriously!"
"What has Jones done to basic these days?" Skipper complained shaking his head, Kowalski nodding in agreement.
"So what's our escape route?"
"Private's getting Marlene out the way we came, and the three of us are going after Rhonda," Skipper replied shortly, he looked over his shoulder at Private, "You two hear that?"
"Yes Skippah."
"Should be pretty simple..."
Marlene shut the door of her apartment behind her. It was nothing luxurious, but it was home, or at least it had been for the last couple of years. She shivered slightly, and a few seconds later located the source of the draft: an open window on the other side of the room. She ran her hand through her hair, too tired to be bothered by a window she was almost positive she'd closed prior to her leaving. Her hand reached for the light switch.
"I'd prefer if you left it off," a voice stated, making Marlene jump, "Mrs Gordon across the street isn't known for her discretion."
"What… How did you…" Marlene stuttered.
"You really didn't think I knew where you lived?" The voice asked, "We had an agreement."
"I'm sorry, the agreement's off," Marlene replied trying to sound confident, though her voice was shaking.
"The agreement is not off until I say it is," the voice stated, "I don't care if you actually have fallen for him…"
"I haven't!"
"…It was probable, but I will still be expecting your reports. You went so far as to follow him on a mission, I don't see why you should suddenly have an attack of conscience," Marlene's hand gripped the handle, though she knew there was no point in her running, "But as you apparently have, and also seem to care nothing for that poor mother of yours who's hospital bills you are paying, I will remind you that I can kill skipper at any moment you wish," the room's only source of light, the window, went dark as the figure stepped in front of it, "And I can make you watch." With that the window slammed shut, and when Marlene switched on the lights, she was alone.