SCATTERED AMONG THE STARS
They're 26 and 25 years old when their paths cross again. Ian dropped below the radar and became an M16 agent while Amy became the Madrigal Branch Leader. When he discovers a rogue Madrigal stealing files from the M16, he seeks Amy out for her help. "So, Amy Cahill, will you marry me?"
Rated T for swearing and potentially hinted adult content later on.
CHAPTER 5
"We'll run where lights won't chase us/Hide where love can save us/I will never let you go
- Zedd ft. Matthew Koma, Spectrum
/
December 25th 2015, 2035
A knock sounded from outside the door. Amy called out, "Enter!" without looking up from her book.
Ian appeared, sticking his head into the room. "I need to tell you something."
Amy frowned. "This isn't about Marie, is it? I'm still waiting for her to run the check. She's a little busy now, but she promised me she'd get it to me by tomorrow."
She and Ian had agreed to tell Marie Fontaine about what they were doing. It was risky, but necessary all the same. They needed someone to cross-check a photograph of the rogue Ian had taken the last time he'd seen the man. Marie was one of Amy's closest confidantes and second only to Amy herself and the other Branch Leaders in the Cahill hierarchy. Amy trusted her.
Now if only Ian would, too.
The agent in question shook his head. "No," he said, rolling his eyes a little bit, "not about that. Although I am rather desperate for those results."
"It's going to take time, Ian," she replied. "Give her a while. Besides, we still have to collect evidence, right? Don't forget the whole purpose of this mission in the first place."
"Alright. We won't talk about that anymore."
"Good." Amy sat up straighter, adjusting her reading glasses – yes, reading glasses. She'd realized that she needed them to see properly after one of the annual Cahill Trade reports when people actually working there as Heads of Departments were required to give a summary of that year's achievements, milestones reached, things to be improved. That sort of thing.
Amy had had to squint at the electronic board for the entire meeting because all she could see was blobs of writing and occasional words.
So she'd gotten glasses. Dan had laughed. Very, very loudly.
Amy blinked, tearing herself away from the thoughts. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Ian's expression suddenly changed to look like he was… nervous? Her brow creased. Ian and nervous rarely went in the same sentence together, and certainly not to describe him.
The Madrigal set down her book. "Just spit it out," she commanded, raising one eyebrow.
"Well… you see… I just might have invited my colleagues over for dinner on New Year's Eve?" His voice trailed off questioningly, a sheepish note slipping into his tone.
Amy gaped at him. "What? Who's going to cook?"
Ian swallowed. "I also might have told them that you're going to cook."
"How many?"
"Five. Including us, seven."
Amy threw her hands up in exasperation. "Ian, I can barely cook for two, let alone seven. I'm going to give them food poisoning."
The M16 agent held his hands up cautiously in appeasement. "Don't worry," he soothed. "We can get someone to come help you do the actual cooking beforehand. All we need to do is buy the ingredients. That can't be too hard, right?" He gave her the most hopeful grin she'd ever seen on his face.
Amy glared at him.
He shifted around awkwardly.
After a long moment, Amy sighed. "Fine, I'll do it," she acquiesced wearily. "As long as…" An interesting thought occurred to her. She smirked. "As long as that 'someone' who is going to help me is Marie."
Ian stared at her and groaned. "You're not serious."
"Oh, but I am." It was her turn to grin now, a full-fledged beam that emanated satisfaction. "She already knows. Why shouldn't I invite her up here?"
"Telling her what's going on is one thing. Inviting her to actively take part in this ruse is a whole different matter!"
"Technically, she's already 'actively involved'," Amy threw back. "She's doing the search for us. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as 'actively involved'."
Ian scowled. "If she comes here, there will be much more solid evidence that she is part of this. The search is like you said," he continued, putting a hand up to stop Amy from speaking, "untraceable. Only the Branch Leaders' searches are. It's difficult to hide evidence that one travelled to a specific place, Amy," he explained. "Photographs, travel cards – they're all too easy to track."
"She's my second-in-command," Amy argued. "Don't you think she'd know how to cover up her tracks?"
Ian was still glowering.
The Madrigal sighed. "Besides, I'm supposed to be here sorting out Cahill business, right?" she reminded. "If anyone does ask questions, I can just say that she came to pay a visit to a friend. No harm done."
His expression was still sour, but in a tone that showed oh-so-obviously that he was extremely reluctant, Ian agreed. "Fine," he grumbled.
Amy smiled, leaning back against the headrest. "Good, then," she said simply. "All settled. We just need to come up with some recipes and then head to the supermarket. We can do that on the day before New Year's Eve. It'll be fresher like that. Tastes better."
Ian didn't provide an argument. Instead, he said, "When are you going to start working?"
Amy blinked at him in confusion. Then she paused. "Work!"
A small smile teased the corner of his lips. "Yes, Amy," he said dryly, "work. It's not fun and games here. I actually need to go to work at the office like normal people."
Amy rolled her eyes. Right. The plan had been to make her his office assistant – she had no doubt that he probably did have a lot of work to do, but it still seemed odd to her. "Shouldn't we think this through first?" she asked. "It seems a little strange to me. I don't know any stockbrokers who have assistants."
He laughed. "Nobody ever said I couldn't," he told her. "Besides, I've already slipped in our beautiful love story. Once my colleagues figure out that we're married, they'll automatically think that another motive in making you my assistant is because I want to spend more time with you."
"I'm not that kind of person. I don't think I can pull it off, Ian," she explained. "How about this: we change up the schedule a little. I'll go to the Trade Centre every other day, and be your assistant for the rest. It seems more like… me," Amy reasoned.
Ian didn't say anything for a while, his expression pensive and deep in thought. "That works," he muttered while looking down at the floor. Suddenly, his gaze shot straight back up.
"We need to start planning," he told her urgently. "There isn't much time left – I think you can be away for two months without raising any suspicions."
"Two months is a little sceptic, Ian," she replied warily.
He stepped closer, sitting down at the edge of the bed. He didn't look at her, choosing instead to look at the plain white wall opposite of him. The sharp lines and angles of his side profile faced her. "Take a month's leave off. Plus another month to work at the Trade Centre, we have two."
She stared at him in astonishment. "I'm the Branch Leader. We don't get vacations, let alone one whole month."
He turned to face her completely. "Yes, you can."
"Of course I can't – " Her protests were cut off short.
"Yes, you can," he repeated confidently. "Have Dan step in for a little. Tell them it's to prepare him for when you retire and he takes over."
Irritation stirred up within Amy. "I told you, we're not bringing Dan into this," she snapped. "And anyway, it won't make sense. I was never going to have Dan succeed me anyway. He doesn't want it, and by the time I retire, he'll be around retiring age, too."
"Your branch loves you," Ian protested. "They do, and you know it."
She still hesitated. Ian let out a sound of frustration. "We have to do this, Amy. There will never be peace. Ever. Not if we don't catch this man. We have to."
She got up without another word, and Ian tried his very best not to slump in defeat, choosing instead to stare unblinkingly at white sheets of the bed.
Before she left, Amy turned to face him. Ian raised his gaze to look at her. She swallowed down the unfathomable sorrow at the look on his face.
"Have to, or want to?"
He didn't reply. Maybe he didn't want to.
A/N I apologize for the wait, and the impending one. I will be unable to write until early June. There are so many plot issues with this fic I need to sort it all out, along with the hectic schedules and deadlines of my personal life. This chapter was supposed to be way longer, but due to a guest reviewer reviewing again, asking for an update, I felt pretty despicable.
I am not giving up on this story, and if I do, I will tell you. Please accept my apology.