A/N: All I can say is, "I'm sorry, Benji." Lol!
"Lean up- no, not like that! Jesus, Benj, you're supposed to turn him on, not scare him straight! Just lean up on your elbow a little…Yeah, like that." Brandt used a hand to wipe the growing smile from his face as he watched Benji reposition himself on the bed through the camera feed.
Benji huffed out a frustrated growl and flopped back down onto the pillows. "I hope you know that this is the most demoralizing thing I've ever done. I'll probably be scarred for life after this."
"If I let you count it on The Scar Chart will it make you feel better?" Brandt asked, not even trying to hide his amusement anymore.
The tech frowned in thought for a second before replying. "Actually, yes, it would. Not that it matters. I don't think any of us can catch up to 'mauled by a crocodile.'"
Brandt laughed openly at that. "Hear that, Jane? Add a tally for Benji on the Chart."
"Got it," she responded through the comm, "and look alive, boys, Styles just pulled in. You're up, Ethan."
"Copy that," his reply came.
Brandt laughed again as the camera picked up Styles stepping into the lobby of the hotel. "Heads up, Benj, he's wearing a trench coat."
"What does that mean?" the tech asked, his pitch slightly higher than normal.
Will shook his head. "You'll see… He's on the elevator now."
Benji scoffed. "'You'll see?' I don't want to see! Ethan, I've changed my mind. Switch places with me."
"Sorry, Benji, no time to change outfits," Hunt said. "Besides, you pull off the collar better than I can."
"That's not funny! I look ridiculous! And it wasn't fair to keep the whole bondage bit a secret! I would never have agreed to this had I known!"
"I know," Ethan smirked, "now shut up, the elevator's here. And get into character."
"'Get into character' he says. You get into character." He mumbled more to himself as he once again resumed the position that Brandt had coached him through, laying out across the bed sideways facing the door, his head propped up in one hand, and the other hand resting casually on a raised knee. The silver buckle on the black leather collar shimmered in the light, and his black mesh tank stretched tight across his chest. The leather of his tight slacks creaked slightly as he adjusted the angle of his legs. "Is this right?" he muttered, completely appalled.
"You're beautiful, Benj," Brandt answered, then shifted his attention back to Ethan's screen where the lead agent was just coming around to the front of the desk of the upstairs lobby to greet the target. Although not as flamboyant as Benji's wear, Ethan's bright, royal blue suit definitely stood out in contrast to the beige, peeling wallpaper of the hotel.
"Mr. Smith, right on time," Hunt said, reaching out a black-gloved hand towards the target.
Styles shook it, though his eyes never met Ethan's. Instead, they darted around the small lobby nervously.
"Please, Mr. Smith, we value our customers' privacy as much as you value our discretion. No need to worry." The easy smile Hunt displayed seemed to put the balding man a little more at ease. "Now, according to your preferences I believe we've picked the perfect match for you. If you'd like to head on down this hall – yes, that one right there – you'll find Room 317 open for you. Your prize is already waiting inside."
"Prize?" Benji squeaked. "That's just brilliant. I'm a prize."
"Benji, shut up!" Brandt scolded. "Styles is at your door. Jane?"
"There's nothing in here about Carmichael." She shoved the papers she was sorting through back into the glovebox and snapped it shut, then moved towards the car's stereo and Bluetooth system. "Getting ready to install the bug."
"Well you'd better move fast because Benji…" Brandt stared at the way the tech was trying – and failing – to show Styles a sexy leer as the man walked through the door. He laughed and shook his head. "He's about to crash and burn, big time."
They all heard Ethan's sigh. "Think Elizabeth Hurley, you're trying to seduce Elizabeth Hurley."
"Right," Benji mumbled, then looked up at Styles in slight alarm as he realized he had spoken out loud. "Uh, right…right this w-way…big boy."
Brandt dropped his face into his hand and groaned. To his surprise, the sound of chortling laughter filtered through his earpiece next, and he snapped his head up to see the look of amused joy on the target's face.
"Am I your first?" Styles asked.
Benji scoffed. "No. I've had lots of…lots of m-me-" He coughed and cleared his throat. "clients before."
The target shook his head and laughed again. "No, no, don't lie to me, now. I'm not upset about it. Everything will be all right. It just means we'll have to change this to a game of school fantasy. I'll be the teacher, you'll be my apt pupil. How does that sound?"
"That…sounds…delightful?" The look on Benji's face revealed that he thought it was anything but delightful.
Styles stepped closer to the bed. "Oh, it will be. Let me just slip into my school uniform."
To Benji's horror, Styles reached up and undid the knot in the trench coat's belt, dropping his shoulders so that the cover would slide quickly to the ground.
"Oh, dear god!" the tech cried, while at the same time Brandt hollered, "Whoa!"
Laughing, Will turned his face from the screen and covered his eyes. "Jane, give Benji another tally; and one for me, too. I am so sorry, man."
A half second later found Benji fleeing the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Ethan glared at him, storming down the hall to cut off his agent's escape. He cornered Benji against the door and gripped the handle behind the tech's back to prevent Styles from opening it.
"What are you doing?" Hunt hissed.
Benji shook his head as he spoke. "I can't do this. I am not doing this. No means no, and I mean no. You can't make me go back in there."
"Benji, listen to me. All you have to do is get that implant somewhere on his body – anywhere. Once it's online you can get the hell out. Now get back in there and do your job."
"But, but…you didn't see what he was wearing!" Benji stammered.
Brandt cut in. "It's not pretty."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Not helping, Brandt."
The door shook a little bit as Styles tried to open it from the inside. Hunt gave Benji a look that said, "stay put," and maneuvered himself around the tech so he could slip his head into the room. His eyes widened just a tiny bit, the only sign of his surprise at the sight of the robust assistant standing there with nothing on but a black thong and a silver chain that connected one nipple ring to the other.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, he's a little shy. Just give me a second and I'll have him back in here…unless you'd like a new-"
"No, I like him," Styles smiled. "He's a feisty one."
Ethan nodded and shut the door again, giving Benji an apologetic shrug with one shoulder.
Brandt, doing his best to keep his eyes plastered anywhere but on the screen displaying Styles in all his unnatural glory, raised his eyebrows. "Unbelievable. You're a natural."
"Brandt, please, shut up," Benji mumbled as he prepared to go back into the room.
They heard Jane chuckle as she continued her work. "Seems like 'obnoxious side commentary' is actually a side effect of handling surveillance; and all this time I thought it was just Benji's personality."
"Fine. I'll tell you what. You won't get any obnoxious side commentary from me ever again after this, because I'm not speaking to any of you until I'm done being angry; and in case you didn't hear the 'ever again,' that means I'm never going to stop being angry." Without another word, Benji sucked in a deep breath and stepped back into the room.
Ethan let out a long sigh. "Benji, just do your job and get out. Brandt, Carter, no more wise cracks. Let's just get this over with, and we can all get out of here."
There was silence for a second before they all heard Benji clear his throat awkwardly. "Um…I'm sorry…I just-"
"You've been a naughty boy," Styles scolded, shaking his finger at the tech. "In my school, the teachers are allowed to punish the students for acting out. Now come over here and let professor give pupil a spanking."
Brandt saw what little color Benji had drain out of his face. Dunn stood rooted to the floor, clearly frozen in place by the concept of allowing Styles to touch him. Thinking quick, he blurted out, "Tell him you want to do the spanking."
Ethan warned Brandt by just stating his name in a frustrated manner while Jane spewed out a, "What?"
Brandt ignored them. "Benj, listen to me. He'll go for it, guy's a bondage creep. You tell him you want to administer the punishment, hit him with the implant, the needle prick will hurt, which he'll like so he won't even question it, I activate the chip, and you walk out clean. It's the perfect shot."
Benji, utterly overwhelmed by the whole ordeal by this point, stuttered for a second before practically screaming, "I am not going to stick my implant in his ass!"
Everyone held their breaths as Benji snapped his eyes up at the shocked Styles. A few long seconds ticked by before the man chuckled lightly, then broke out into full on laughter. He crouched over and held his stomach as he shuffled up to the tech, barely able to speak as he put a hand on Benji's shoulder.
"Son, you need to calm down! I know it's your first time. We can wait on the really kinky stuff until you've eased up a bit, maybe after a few sessions. I just wanted a spanking, for Christ's sake!"
Brandt cracked. Falling into a fit of laughter of his own, he clutched at his side and spit out a tiny, "Ow," in between breaths.
Face red in a full on flush, Benji did his best to ignore his friend and spat out, "Can I…can I administer the punishment? Please?"
Styles thought it over for a second before slapping the younger man on the back. "Sure. Why not? Whatever'll make you feel more comfortable. I'll just go get in position over on the bed, there."
Brandt's increasing fit of laughter was abruptly cut off as Ethan ordered him to turn off his mic. The utter silence that followed had Benji almost wishing the analyst would come back online. Now it seemed as though he were alone in the room with a psycho.
"Just do it, Benji," Ethan said quietly, giving the tech the little push he needed to approach the bed where Styles was waiting, propped up on all fours like a dog.
Benji hesitantly moved behind the man, scrunching up his face in disgust at the exposed flesh of the man's rear around the too-small piece of cloth. Reaching down to his buckled punk boots he slid out a tiny syringe designed to fit between his fingers, a rubber top like an eye-dropper's being the mechanism that would push the chip beneath the skin.
"Here we go," he murmured as he pulled his hand back, doing his best not to look at where he was aiming. "You have been a very bad boy, Mr. Smith," he said in an almost casual manner, then released all his frustrations towards his teammates in his swing. His hand hit hard, the bite of the needle nearly lost in the stinging power of the blow, and Styles let out a sound that was part pain, part pleasure.
"Oh yeah, another one like that!" he whooped.
Benji walked around the bed and leaned down to look in Styles' face. "You're disgusting. I quit."
With that, he stood tall, ripped off the collar and flung it at the ground, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. As he stomped past Ethan, he held up a hand in order to shut down anything the team leader might have said, and bypassed the elevator, wrenching open the door to the stairwell.
Ethan turned back to the bedroom as Styles, trench coat back in place, stepped out. Donning his persona once again, he made himself look mortified as he rushed to meet the target.
"Mr. Smith, I am so sorry. I will issue you a full refund and a free session for your next visit."
Styles also silenced him with a hand. "No need. Haven't had a fresh one in…well, I can't remember how long. It was fun. Not quite what I came here for, but still fun. I'll be sure to hang onto your card for next time around."
There was a short moment when a surprised Ethan didn't quite know what to say. Recovering quickly enough, he plastered on a smile and held out a hand to the man. "Th-thank you for your business, Mr. Smith. I look forward to hearing from you again in the future."
As Styles meandered to the elevator, Brandt turned his mic back on. "That's the first time I've ever heard you stutter," he pointed out, the amusement still clear in his voice.
"I think this was a first time for all of us," the team leader answered, wiping a hand down his face. "Status report?"
Jane was the first to speak up. "Bugs are online and masked by his own Bluetooth system. Almost at the hotel, now."
"The chip is online and giving clear readings of Styles' location…and if the heat signature readouts are as accurate as Benji claims, then he's passing a cat in the alley about twelve feet to his left," Brandt reported.
"Benji?" Ethan prompted when no one else spoke.
Brandt answered, instead. "In the van and pouting. I think he's holding to the whole 'not talking to us' thing."
Hunt smirked. "That's fine. I'll clean up, then meet you down there in a minute. Good work, team."
There was silence for a second before he heard Benji mumble, "I hope you pulled a stitch while you were laughing at my expense." Shaking his head, Ethan set about erasing their presence from the floor they were on while Jane checked in to say she was doing the same with the lower level. The mission may have been a traumatic experience for Benji, but at least Brandt was enjoying himself. That was the whole purpose to this thing, after all.
"Phase One, complete," he reported happily as he pocketed the last hidden camera, wondering what surprises may be hiding in Phase Two.