Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta/Pre-Reader: Meschelw. Thank you, hun.

Chapter 2

Houston, TX - May

She swallowed hard as she realized that everything went to shit.

He knew.

He knew about her and that's why he made his appearance this particular evening.

She was supposed to meet him the very next day. She had a meeting scheduled, for fuck's sake. Everything so perfectly staged.

She was looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her table, tall, confident and steady. He sat across her without the invitation.

He goes heavy, she thought. He's carrying some small caliber.

He didn't say a word. Just sat there, at ease, his silver zippo lighter shining in dimmed artificial light as he lit his cigarette.

'You can't smoke in here,' she blurted the first thing that popped in her mind.

He just stared at her, his blue, blue eyes motionless, he didn't even blink. She suddenly felt like a prey, sized up, hypnotized and unable to run.

'Isabella Swan, I believe you wanted to meet me,' he spoke finally. His voice was deep and hoarse, nothing like Edward velvet baritone. She hated it already.

'And who the fuck are you?' she asked, angry and frustrated.

Easy, easy, she warned herself immediately. Tread carefully, you dumb bitch, or you will doom it.

'My name is Jasper Whitlock,' he replied calmly, his eyelids still frozen, unblinking stare cutting her to the bone, 'but you know it already. Miss Swan'.

Damn it to hell.

'Well-' she started her sentence, but the blue eyed devil raised his hand to silence her.

'I'm a very private person, miss Swan. You've done some very questionable research or you've failed to notice I hardly meet nobodies who's asking for it. In fact, I don't meet with gold-diggers, journalists, employees of the police or any government founded agencies or else. You really should be surprised that your formal request was accepted and that I decided to listen whatever you have to say,' he said.

'Two requests,' she added, still angry.

'Yes, two of them. I also decided that I wouldn't be wasting my precious time tomorrow as you came here, to my restaurant. I'm a very busy man and I hardly deal with bullshit, so out with it, you got two minutes,' he took a lungful drag of his Marlboro as he finished his sentence.

She bit the inside of her cheek in order to not to reach across the table and punch him.

'I'm not journalist, I'm not with the police, I'm not a whore who's after you money. My father is. A policeman, not a whore, of course. I'm a student who is trying to write a paper, to finish her studies and some cosmic irony made you the one who has everything I need. I was going to beg you to help me and allow me the access to your family records, your library and to small area of your yard where the graves are. I'm not interested in your private, busy, pathetic life. I'm interested in nineteenth century. I wanted to show you my ideas and concept of my thesis. Do you know the legends? That's what I dig. But you know what? I don't need you. Go fuck yourself.'

Eyes sparkling, her face reddened she finished her torrent of words, grab a glass and drank is content in one gulp.

Whisky, all right.

She put the glass on the table with little more force than necessary and stood up.

'Thanks for a drink. Be kind and pay for my water too, see, my date won't show and my evening is ruined. I won't be eating. It wasn't a pleasure to meet you,' she hissed and turned around to leave.

Yeah, here, I blew it. Let them shoot me, fire me, fuck them, fuck Edward, I'm outta here.

"Miss Swan?"

She started to march towards the exit. Then she noticed, that the restaurant was silent and nearly empty. The customers must have left. Something was terribly wrong.

And something was wrong with her. She was supposed to see things like that. She is trained to, yet she allowed the short conversation to swallow her whole.

'Miss Swan?' he repeated, angrier this time.

She hesitated and stopped her retreat.

'You really want me to help you?' he asked.

Fuck.

'Yes' she replied silently.

'You will have to work for it,' he stated.

'What do you mean: work for it?', she turned to face him abruptly. 'How dare you?'

He didn't even move. He was like a statue, the only element of the picture making it somehow dynamic was smoke of his cigarette. He was the king giving orders, he was the King of Houston.

'No, Miss Swan. You're not my type at all. Please expect a call from my assistant tomorrow afternoon. After your therapy session, of course. You're excused.'

"What the f-' she stammered.

'Good night, Miss Swan,' he said meaningfully.

'But-'

His features didn't change. His posture didn't change. Just one hardly visible eye twitch.

"Out,' he barked.

And Isabella did as she was told.

For the first time of her life she was scared.

...

Isabella crossed her legs and huffed.

'it's not gonna work, Tanya,' she said. 'He's a fucking lunatic.'

Tanya Denali was sitting at her huge desk.

The false background they have given Isabella, the unfortunate valentines agent stated that she was in need of weekly therapy after 'the robbery'. Officially she was better, but, as her files shown, she wanted to make sure of her psyche. Maybe she was addicted a little to sharing her thoughts with the shrink. Officially.

But Tanya was in fact her one and only way to contact the agency. She was the profiler and psychologist, the installed her in Houston six months earlier. It was safer this way.

'I mean, he even knew that I had appointment with you, goddamnit. Are you sure this place's not bugged?'

'Don't be paranoid, Bella,' Tanya smiled. 'Our people are checking it out at least twice a week. It's clear.'

Isabella glanced around nervously.

'Bella, you're our only chance. We hope you do your work. Edward hopes you do it.'

'Don't mention him, please. He stood me up.'

'No, he got intel our target was there,' strawberry blonde therapist undercover explained, trying to reason with Isabella.

'Whatever.'

'Look, I know it's hard. You've already made a progress, see? Keep your good work up, he's interested.'

'Good work, my ass. I nearly fucked it up,' Isabella shook her head. 'I'm useless.'

'You want me to tell them red? Tell them you want to abort mission at its very beginning? Think about it.'

Isabella sighed.

A failure. A no good agent. Unemployed. Coward. Traitor of the country. That's what she was gonna become.

'No.'

'Good, Bella,' Tanya nodded. 'See you next week.'

A/N. RL problems. But I'm back. Please leave me a word.