Hey guys, SpikedTea here (aka JadedRein.) Thanks for giving my story a view! I know fics with OC's can be hard to read, but I felt if I did the Owen/Alex fanfic I had in mind that I wouldn't do it justice! Anywho, loving Nikita in the meantime. Routing for them though I know that it won't happen! Oh well, a girl can dream.

If you guys haven't yet please go on youtube and look up my Lesson One vids! So far there are two: A theatrical trailer and a music video.

Reviews are appreciated. Enjoy my dearies and thank you for reading. 3

Samson's brow was covered in a sheen of sweat, a small bubble of blood on the corner of his lip. His fists were raised, blocking an attempt at his face. With a confident air he continued on in the fight with the tattooed man before him. The drone of the underground fighting club was just louder than the music they had blaring, and it set the scene perfectly. As he dodged a powerful right he ducked around the man, catching him roughly in the stomach with his fist. His eyes zeroed in on Alicia, confirming she was all right as he continued the fight. It wasn't possible for to wear an earpiece with their current covers.

She watched from beside his so called manager, a convenient Division asset, as Samson fought in the ring. Alicia was dressed to kill, and made sure to give off the attitude she was interested in nothing but the fight. There were no men for her to seduce this time, and all she had to do was play Samson's second; an easy role for her. When the fight finished it was no surprise Samson had won, and the smug smile as he approached her said he felt the same. Alicia handed forth the towel she held, flashing him her brightest smile. "You're bleeding," she pointed out sweetly.

"Not as bad as Ringo," he laughed, taking the towel from her. Samson patted dry his face, wiping the remaining Vaseline from his skin. "Where's Danny boy?" he asked, noting his manager's absence. It was busy all around them and he had to shout in order for her to hear him, even with him standing barely a foot away.

"He placed money on the fight," she laughed, taking the towel from him as he scanned the crowd. The man had practically run off the moment Samson had gotten his opponent, Ringo, into a stranglehold. "Couldn't wait to collect his winnings," Alicia added, patting his chest dry, "and get out of here."

Samson turned his back to her, and she patted it down with the towel as he stooped to grab his t-shirt from the black chair. "Did you get what you needed?" he asked as he pulled the shirt down over his chest.

"I did," she nodded, allowing him to sling an arm over her shoulder. He was radiating heat into her and the crowd they were making their way through was already stifling enough, but she smiled nonetheless. "We have a room at the Hilton and a breakfast date at eight," Alicia informed him in between the interruptions of apparent fans. It was easy to spot the important and consequently dangerous people who attended these underground fights. Somewhere among them was their contact who had managed to slip her the note then disappear.

If there had been cameras in the illegal basement arena Birkhoff would have had an eye on the guy, but there wasn't. He was left impatiently waiting for Samson and Alicia to check in once they arrived at the hotel and had access to a secure line. It was their first extended Operation as a Team and luckily it wasn't deep cover; the mission only lasted a week. Still, the lack of earpieces and the inability to track them in the underground fighting den gave him reason to worry. There was no way for him to know if something went wrong. The only constellation was that Alicia didn't have to seduce anyone this time around.

The two Agents were undercover as a married couple and partner arms dealers. Samson was Isaac Durden an unregistered MMA fighter who was in town for the illegal circuit. Alicia was his wife as well as the niece of a well known dealer in Vegas. Together they'd been sent to carry out an arms deal that had been in the workings for months. When they were transferred the funds Birkhoff would have means of tracing the money to its source. That's all they were after; a name. In order to get it they had to sell a few guns and make some money in the process, but it was all for the good of Division. They were doing the government's work after all.

Birkhoff was tired of waiting, tired of having her out on the field while he could do nothing to help. Instead he was working away on the other mindless tasks thrown his way. On his left hand monitor he kept up the trackers for the two Agents, glancing over at the Offline status every time he got the chance. If he didn't know better this Op was crafted with the intent to drive him crazy. He and Alicia had continued on with Amanda's little plan, and he had the distinct impression that the dragon lady wanted to up the ante by making him jealous with Samson. Normally he could handle seeing the two together, but it was now that he couldn't see them that he was worried.

He knew Alicia could handle herself, hell she could kick his ass easily. But they were in enemy territory and with Samson at her side he was left relying on the cocky Agent to watch her back. It also meant the chances of him being able to talk to her normally were next to none. Birkhoff wouldn't say he was obsessed with her per say, but she was the first good thing in his life in a very long time. With Alicia he knew where he stood. Division came first, the only exception being when it came to their relationship. She was the one real thing in his world.

When the call came through he was the first to intercept it, quickly pushing aside his hair to slide on the headset. "City Morgue, how may I help you?" Birkhoff answered the call as he moved their tracker information to his main screen.

"A room in the Hilton for my final resting place," Alicia smiled as she relaxed into her seat, "I'm dead on my feet."

"You're one to talk," Samson pitched in, glancing in the rearview mirror, "I'm the one who went three rounds with Ringo."

She laughed, looking over at him in the driver's seat. One perk of being undercover meant that they were required to transport themselves. Instead of the back of a stuffy black SUV the pair was currently in a 2010 Acura ZDX, a car that made her question her loyalty to Alfred. Technically, according to the papers in the glove compartment, it was already her car. Samson was the muscle and she was the money for this mission. All she had to do is sit back and play arm candy. "Still have a little blood on your lip," Alicia pointed out, brows raised with a gloating smile.

Birkhoff couldn't resist hijacking the GPS in the car, quickly gaining an image of the two. He smirked when he realized she was right, Samson did have a little bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. "Do you have a preference on rooms madam?" he asked, smiling mischievously the moment Alicia's eyes picked up his image on the screen.

"Something with a view of the street," she informed him, "and on the third floor."

"Get us as close to a stairwell as you can," Samson pitched in, hazel eyes flickering to the monitor in the middle of the console. He peeked his tongue through his lips, flicking it over the dried blood until it was gone. "No balcony and non smoking," he added, returning his eyes to the road. It's not enough I have him in my ear, he thought sourly of the IT, now I have him in my car.

Alicia gave him a sly smile, her spirit lifting at the knowledge he was with her. The last three times she'd been able to get alone time with him had all been under the guise of her assignment. As much fun as playing naughty Alicia was, she didn't like the high and mighty attitude she had adopted around him. It wasn't hard to act interested in his work, but it made her feel guilty every time she did it. She knew that her interest in him wasn't just because he was Shadow Walker, but the more time she spent playing that role the more impressed with his skills she became. Alicia didn't understand how someone like him could be with someone like her.

As she listened to his back and forth with Samson as they arranged the room, her eyes scanned idly over his face. While Birkhoff was nothing like the other members of Division, he couldn't be counted as unattractive. Alicia loved the way he looked, loved the way he felt, loved having his voice in her ear and happily would chose him over any of the cookie cutter muscle men that she worked with. Birkhoff was funny, he could be sweet, and he was an undeniable genius with technology. She felt safer with the Head IT than any gun toting Agent she encountered.

She wasn't unique like he was. Sure, she had a pretty face and a smile that could melt the coldest heart, but that was all skin deep. Alicia could kill a man as many ways as she could seduce him, she could override systems and encode in her sleep but those weren't talents; they were learned skills. Division had given her those gifts. If it hadn't been for her second chance she would still be playing make believe and living from couch to couch.

In her early recruit days Birkhoff hadn't even given her a second glance, and she hadn't thought too deeply into it. Knowing his high rank in Division it had seemed like all she'd ever be able to do was watch him from afar. Behind a computer screen he was King, and it was what had first gained her interest. Hearing his fingers on the keys, taking in his profile as he worked on projects while the recruits ran their simulations; the man's presence demanded her attention. All she had to do was open her eyes and see the big picture and she was intrigued. He was cynical, immature, had a distinctive sense of humor and preferred a screen to anyone's company. But she'd seen past it, she'd known that if she could just him to smile she could see his true colors.

It had never been her plan to become attached. In truth it had been an adventure for her, making friends with Birkhoff. Samson was right when he said she loved games. While she hadn't been playing the man she had realized that his companionship would further her career in Division. Then something had happened. She'd gotten that smile out of him and it had stuck with her. Things clicked, she couldn't explain it, but his playful attitude had won her over. Alicia had never imagined the man would break down her walls and see the real Alicia that she'd hidden away from everyone else.

When they reached the hotel she made sure to flash a smile up at the camera just for Birkhoff before following behind Samson to their stop. "You'd think he could have swung a larger room," Samson grumbled the moment they made it to the hotel room.

"It was the only open one that fit our needs," she shrugged, not seeing why he was complaining. The room was no suite, but it was nice for a hotel. With the life she used to lead Alicia was used to a much lower standard of living. While she'd stayed with plenty of well off people, she'd also spent her fair share of time in dumps. There'd been more than a few nights spent in trailer parks and slums.

As Samson locked the door behind them he flashed her a dry smile. "Your mastermind couldn't have cleared out a room?" he teased, eyes following her as she made her way to the window.

"Not when our target owns half the city, this building included," she responded, looking out towards the green California hills, "that would send up some red flags." Her eyes scanned over the streets below, taking in the people and their movements. As long as they didn't give anyone a reason to suspect they weren't who they said they were it was a relatively safe mission, but she was on alert nonetheless. One could never be too careful.

Samson's eyes danced over her as he hauled their bags onto one of the two queen sized beds the room offered. Her right wrist was littered with matt grey bracelets that matched the color of the buckle adorned boots that stopped just short of her knees. His eyes traveled up her legs to where the short slinky black dress she wore started. They followed her curves, taking in how stunning she looked. My wife, he thought smugly as she caught him staring at her and flashed him a bemused expression, one brow raised. "Done scanning for bad guys?" he asked, not bothering to cease his ogling of her.

"Enjoying the view actually," she turned her eyes back to peer out of the window, holding the curtain open with one hand. Regardless of the fact it was four in the morning there was quite a bit of activity on the streets.

Stripping of his shirt he stepped up behind her, looking out the window as well. The sun was so close to rising that the sky behind the hills was hued pink and orange. It looked like an image on a postcard, and his eyes flickered down to linger on her face. Her emerald eyes looked hazed, like she was somewhere else as she took in the sight. Cracks in the wall, Samson thought smugly as he observed her face. "Why Mrs. Durden you do look tired," he commented, drawing her attention, "you should take a nap."

Alicia looked up at him, dropping the curtain from her hand. "Our meet is in four hours," she pointed out.

"I'll wake you," he offered, stepping away from her, his shirt slung over his shoulder. "I'm still amped up from the fight," he shrugged, striding into the bathroom and flipping on the light.

Samson didn't bother closing the door as he started stripping of his remaining clothes, and Alicia wasted no time in moving to the bed and out of the bathroom's line of sight. He was right, she was tired. There was no point in staying up, and so she stripped of her outfit and opened the bag of clothes she'd been packed. When she was greeted with the sight of lingerie and silk she deftly picked one of the nighties out at random. "Wake me at six for briefing," she requested.

"What do you want for breakfast call?" he asked over the sound of the shower starting.

She climbed into the bed, lifting the menu from the bedside table. After a quick sweep of the options with her eyes she set it aside. "Egg White Omelet," Alicia decided with a smile. Just thinking of the food she was able to fall into a peaceful sleep. It was short lived however, and she was soon waking to Samson's voice.

"Morning sleepyhead," he greeted her, standing at the edge of the bed, "breakfast is here."

Alicia sat up, resting her back on the headboard as he set the plate in her lap. "You know, one of the only things I've never missed about being a recruit was the food," she smiled, wasting no time in taking a bite of the omelet. Meetings that took place at mealtime rarely included any actual eating, and there was a long day ahead of them.

"Which three do you want to bring to the meet?" he asked, walking to the other bed, motioning to the guns he'd laid out.

She cocked a brow, finishing another bite full with a swallow. "I'd say those," she motioned with her fork, "but shouldn't we wait for Michael to call?"

"I let you sleep through briefing," Samson answered easily, watching her face for a reaction. When she looked over at him her expression read, Well, what did they say and he resisted the urge to smirk. While eating was going to help Alicia through her day, knowing he'd avoided listening to her talk to Birkhoff was the highlight of his. "Nothing's changed. We go to the meet and make sure everything goes smoothly," he informed her, packing what he needed into a carrying case.

Her eyes shifted to the clock as she ate, watching as the red glow changed to 7:01. "A day full of sucking up," she sighed as she set aside her empty plate, "this'll be fun."

"Whatever it takes to make the sale," he agreed with a slight nod. They both knew that if they messed this up they would have to scrap the Op. If they didn't get Salvador Dìaz to approve of the product then there would be no sale, and failure was not an option. Samson was Point for this mission, and the details of their approach had been left up to him. Once they met the man he would be able to decide an approach that fit with the cover stories they'd been given.

Alicia climbed to the other side of the bed, dropping her feet onto the carpeted flooring. "At least I get to play dress up," she flashed him a mischievous smile as she leaned forward to the opposite bed to unzip her suitcase. There was no reason to hide her enthusiasm. Samson was right; she did enjoy playing a role. After picking out some clothes she got to her feet, ruffling her hair with one hand as she strode past him and into the bathroom. The first thing she did was close and lock the door, glancing in the mirror. As tempting as it had been to argue with Samson about waking her up late it also hadn't been worth it. When he left for the gym, something his status as an MMA fighter required, she'd be able to talk to Birkhoff.

It felt unusual- not having him in her ear. They'd barely started the mission and already she found herself missing his voice. With how paranoid their target was she would be unable to wear an earpiece, and depending on where they went Birkhoff wasn't always able to have camera access. It could have been worse; she could have been going in blind and deaf. Instead she had Samson to rely on. His cover provided an excuse for an earpiece, giving him a hotline to Birkhoff. Alicia knew that she could depend on him as her partner; regardless of often he got on her nerves.

Birkhoff wasn't having such an easy time adjusting to being cut off from Alicia. He didn't like the fact that until they gained a small margin of Mr. Dìaz' trust she wouldn't be able to chance an earpiece. It meant he'd have to deal directly with Samson for the time being. His eyes tracked the couple as they made their way to the lobby, Samson with the carrying case in hand. They didn't even have the chance to sit before a man was approaching them, leading them straight out the front door. Of course he'd insist they meet on his boat, Birkhoff thought dryly, wouldn't want to make it easy on me. The lack of cameras was really cramping his style.

Samson didn't like the prospect of being isolated to the sailing yacht but he knew it was a test. Men like Salvador Dìaz didn't get where he was, or the connections he had, by putting faith in people. When in a position of power a man had to make sure the people he dealt with could perform under pressure. The second he was out of the car his arm slipped around Alicia's waist, flashing a smile down at her. "And you say I never take you anywhere nice," he teased, following behind the gun toting man in front of them.

Alicia's eyes sparkled as she took in the sight before them. It was as much the sunshine glittering off of the vast blue ocean before them as the boat they were approaching that got her heart beating. She'd never before been out on a yacht, let alone one with a course set for the ocean. "It doesn't count when it's for work," she responded with a coy smile.

The pair came to a stop before two men who both donned dark shades and equally dark suits. From the wand one of them held, and the way the man on the right extended his hand forward their purpose was clear. Samson handed over the case, keeping his eyes on it as he stuck his arms out and allowed himself to be patted down. When it came to the wand it went off the second it passed over his ear. "Hearing aid," Samson explained easily, setting the earbud in the man's palm.

The man turned it over in his hand, holding it up as he read the name imprinted on the device. Without a word he handed it to the man who had just finished checking the carrying case containing the guns. He finished his sweep of Samson without an issue, and moved on to follow the same procedure on Alicia. They motioned them onwards and Samson wasted no time, turning to Alicia the moment his feet touched the yacht's deck. His hands latched onto her love handles, easily picking her up and lowering her down onto the boat.

She relaxed, leaning up against the rail as they waited, despite the nervousness in her stomach. Samson hadn't been returned his earpiece yet and the man who had searched them stood with a watchful eye. Being unarmed with no eyes, no ears and in the middle of the ocean was about as vulnerable as they could get. When they pulled from the dock her eyes turned towards the horizon deciding to enjoy the view as they waited for Mr. Dìaz to make himself known.

It wasn't until they'd lost sight of land that Salvador Dìaz joined them on the deck, followed by the other member of his security. He was dressed in crisp white shorts paired with a short sleeved button down that was open to expose his caramel skin. "It's a hearing aid," the guard confirmed, passing the earpiece over to Dìaz.

Birkhoff waited back in Operations, sitting at his computer screen with his fingers crossed. He'd spent a good half hour making the com device match the specifications of a hearing aid. He'd even gone as far as to add a volume adjustment wheel. All he had to do was remotely set it to amplification mode, and anyone who put it into their ear would be none the wiser. When he caught the line of conversation he relaxed back into his chair. Samson's cover as a fighter had worked well, and Mr. Dìaz had known right away what use the hearing aid was for. Having a profession that called for you to get hit in the face often led to hearing problems, and soon Birkhoff was back in the Agent's ear.

As much as he would have liked to avoid listening to Samson make small talk, he paid attention to the flow of conversation. Without a line directly to Alicia the only way he could make sure she was safe was through their mutual partner. Unfortunately, in order to hide the fact there was a signal broadcasting from the com device; the range on Samson's earpiece wasn't very impressive. Birkhoff could hear the Agent clearly along with the man they were meeting with, but so far he hadn't heard a peep out of Alicia. The black and green box on his screen read that she was okay as her tracker continued to display her as online. Well, the notification said she was alive, it didn't say anything about her condition. All he had as assurance was the fact that Samson hadn't used any of the code words to express distress.

Alicia had tried to keep her eyes to the water as the men talked behind her. This wasn't her mission; it was Samson's. All she provided was aid as a cover and a pretty face to keep his status intact. A good looking young man such as himself could get into a great deal of female trouble in a very short time if he didn't have the excuse of a wife. She'd planned on being the silent arm candy, but the feel of eyes on her became overpowering. It would have been rude not to look, and when she did it was to be met with Salvador Dìaz's smile. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of being introduced to your partner," he spoke to Samson, though his eyes lingered on Alicia.

"Mr. Dìaz this is my wife Camille," Samson informed him, accepting the carrying case from the guard.

"I see I'm not the only man who mixes business with pleasure," Salvador Dìaz said, his Puerto Rican accent adding a smooth undertone to his words.

Taking in the way the man's eyes held Alicia's, Samson adjusted their approach. He couldn't afford to have her underestimated. In order to assure her safety, and ultimately the outcome of the Operation, it would help if he gave her some sort of standing with the man. "She's the one who reminds me of the business," Samson laughed good naturedly.

"Then consider the pleasure all mine," he offered forth his hand and Alicia had to stride forward to take it. When she did he lifted it to his lips, giving a soft kiss as he held her eyes. Only after he released her hand did he look to Samson. "She is beautiful."

Samson set the silver case on the table before them and opened it with a click. "Beautiful, Cunning, Ambitious…" he listed in a smooth voice.

Birkhoff was grimacing as he listened in. "You're selling guns, not her," he reminded in an irritated tone.

Ignoring the man in his ear, Samson continued on. "- but most of all she has impeccable taste," he finished, smiling down at Alicia. He lifted one of the guns from the case, knowing it was her favorite. There had been a reason for letting her choose this morning. "Heckler & Koch MP5K-PDW," he handed the gun over to her with a glitter in her eye.

"My favorite," she confirmed what he already knew.

"A demonstration?" he prompted, lips lifting into a smirk.

Salvador watched with interest as the young woman promptly dismantled the gun, putting it together just as smoothly. "Extended barrel, folding stock," she informed before expertly firing out towards the open ocean without further ado. When she finished she tucked her stray hair back behind her ear, flashing the men a winning smile. "3-slug. Customizable of course."

"That's my girl," Birkhoff breathed, forgetting to turn off his com. The moment he realized what he'd done, he flashed a smug smile knowing that Samson couldn't say a negative word about it. It was fairly quiet in Operations this morning, and so far only he and a handful of other techies were present. A perk of being the Head of the IT department was that no one got in his way. Pushing his hands off of the desk he wheeled his chair back, getting to his feet before sauntering over to the refrigerator. It may have only been nine in the morning, but he still needed the energy drink to get him through the day. He used a finger to push his glasses back up his nose as he strode back to his station. Other than running his usual security checks he had nothing better to do than monitor Alicia and Samson's progress on his screen. From what he could hear coming through the headset they'd moved on to talk about the guns and he was glad they were back on track.

It didn't take long for Salvador Dìaz to come to a business arrangement with the two Division Agents. Only he wasn't thinking about that, no; he was thinking about fresh young blood. Lately there'd been a sad lack of promising youth in the California scene. His visitors were from Vegas and so far they seemed intelligent enough to be worth his time. They had good product at a respectable price and better yet they knew their merchandise. What really had his attention though was the girl.

Camille was young, and he hadn't been playing polite when he'd said she was beautiful. Even as she remained relatively silent, letting her husband Isaac conduct his business, she held an energy about her. The sun and sea air complimented her, and she glowed whenever she looked out towards the water. When business was done he was happy to turn towards pleasure, inviting his guests to a drink. Isaac closed the case and locked it, handing it off to one of the sunglass wearing men, as Salvador led Alicia around to the open bow. There was a small table with four chairs around it lowered slightly into the deck and he stopped just before reaching it. He had a feeling there was something special about Camille Durden and he always trusted his instincts.

Turning to her, his eyes flickered to take her in. The white dress she wore didn't give away much, but it did provide for a good view of her fair skinned, well toned legs. While she was small, maybe five foot four, and slender; he could tell she was in fantastic shape. She handled a gun with the fluidity of someone who knew them, and he was interested to know more about her. "Tell me Camille," her voice rolled off his lips, "does your husband always bring you on his business trips?"

Her green eyes met his as he took one of the chairs at the table and held it out for her. "His business is my business," a hint of a smile played across Camille's lips as she took the seat he offered for her.

"All work and no play?" Salvador grinned as he gently pushed in her seat.

"Well one of us has to be," she smiled, eyes following him as he took the seat on her right, "men are too often distracted by pretty things."

Salvador could sense there was more to her, and he wasted no time in agreeing. "Consider me distracted," he responded in a smooth tone, holding her gaze until the second Isaac Durden stepped up.

Samson took his seat across from Mr. Dìaz, meeting the man's eyes. "That was Danny Boy, I've got another fight lined up for Friday," he informed them, having supposedly just gotten off the phone. It had been left to his discretion to choose the time period, and after seeing Salvador's response to Alicia he'd made up his mind. A week would grant enough time to build the necessary trust to keep Salvador Dìaz as a clueless asset, and to track the source who was about to pay for this particular shipment. While it was his mission, Alicia was his partner and he was going to put her to use.

"Well that works with our schedule," Alicia commented, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. She had the majority of her hair in a low pony tail, swept over her right shoulder, but the wind had coaxed a few wisps free. "Product delivery will be in a week," she commented, looking down at her cellphone. With a flick of her finger she brought up the calendar and marked down how many units the order had consisted of.

"Ricardo said you did well at last night's fight," Salvador commented, "I had him stick around after passing on the message." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his foot casually over his knee. He looked right at home on a yacht in the California sun, his camel skin glowing in the sun. Drinks were handed forth and he accepted a glass, lifting the wine to his lips. "I'd like to go to your next match," he commented easily.

Samson knew an opportunity when he saw one. "I'm sure Camille would love your company, she's never missed a fight," he slipped his hand onto her bared knee, lifting his glass with his free hand.

"I know his stats better than he does," she agreed, enjoying a taste of the crisp white wine they'd been served. A tray of finger food was placed before them, and Alicia was thankful she'd eaten that morning to curb her appetite. "Which is saying something since he starts fresh every new circuit he runs," Alicia added, not straying far from the truth. There had been a lot of homework into cover stories involved with prepping for this Op, and she'd spent a good part of three days going over her husband's details.

"Is that where the two of you met?" Salvador asked, seeing an opportunity of his own.

"Oh no, we met before that; through work," she flashed her husband a smile.

Isaac returned it, nodding. "I had to babysit her," he chuckled, "a harder job than I had anticipated."

Saving his questions for later he let the conversation unfold, watching Camille's lips touch the rim of her glass as she took another drink. "I would hardly count watching over her as work," Salvador commented smoothly. He leaned forward to snatch a triangle of crabmeat sandwich from the platter to take a bite of it.

"Camille had just turned eighteen when I first met her. Even then she wasn't to be taken lightly," the young man smirked while looking towards his wife. "She was the instigator of my first car chase," he informed with a small shake of his head. The man's casual bragging only heightened his interest in the young woman who sipped her wine.

Back in Operations Birkhoff was listening even as he broke through a firewall for one of his other projects. He heard the casual back and forth of chatter between the three. From all of the Ops he'd overseen and played Lead Tech on he knew how people worked. The target had his eyes on Alicia and it didn't take a genius to see that he was leading the conversations. Little by little he got details out of the two Agents about her, or at least about her cover. Birkhoff hated to admit it but Samson was doing as good of a job as Alicia at giving nondescript leading answers of their own. Any information too easily given wasn't worth it; that was the rules of the world.

It bothered him not to be able to see what was going on. He was surprised that they had held such a fluid conversation for so long, and when his navy eyes turned to their trackers he was pleased to see they were almost back to shore. They'd kept everything fairly lighthearted and Birkhoff knew once again the pair was working their mind voodoo. Agents were scary like that, at least the ones who played covers when on the field. Like flipping a switch they became other people. Alicia did it so easily that it was almost fascinating to watch. She shared his enthusiasm for being a part of an underground Black Ops group and they viewed every Operation as a game. Birkhoff didn't exactly enjoy her seducing other men, or their mutual partner Samson, but he'd learnt to handle it. Alicia was well worth it and better yet she was his.

Right now it happened to be Salvador Dìaz who was currently inquiring about his girl, and under the impression she was Samson's. "There must be some story behind how a young woman like you falls into business with the likes of us?" Dìaz urged, knowing the meeting was coming to a close. As entertaining as this had been he had plans for the day.

"Oh I was born into it," she responded with a sly little smile, "it's in my blood."

"The boss's niece," Isaac confirmed, "it took me years to get a date."

When Camille's emerald eyes glistened they were paired with a mischievous smile. "Making you chase me was the highlight of my day," she quipped back. While it wasn't directed at him, Salvador's interest was at an all time high.

"You're part of the Vicenn organization?" he questioned, curious to know more.

Samson had been saving this tidbit of information for last. They needed a standing in the man's eyes, and Alicia's cover provided that. Division had killed both of the Vicenn brothers along with Camille killed in an attack years back. Martin Vicenn had been replaced with a Division double who now ran the Vegas branch after his brother's untimely death in a car crash. As far as records Alicia was set in her cover. "She's Mr. Vicenn's niece," Samson confirmed with a little nod of his head.

Salvador set down his glass as they pulled in closer to the dock. His gut had told him there was something special about the young woman and once again he'd been right. "My condolences on your father," he turned his attention fully to Camille, "the accident was tragic."

"It was," she returned with a small nod, her eyes flashing out towards the ocean for a moment.

"How many years has it been, seven?"

"Eight, nine this May," Alicia returned, not hiding the little surprise at his astuteness from playing over her features. After all, he was technically questioning her on her father's death.

He gave a small nod, interrupted momentarily by his guards coming up to inform him they'd docked. Mr. Dìaz dismissed them with a brisk nod, turning his bright honey eyes on Camille's. "That was the last day you were public," he commented, "at the funeral. You've done a remarkable job of laying low."

"I didn't know the Vicenn name would be so famous out here," she replied, giving him a suspicious look, "or that you'd be so well versed in my family history."

Salvador smiled, leaning forward a little as he held her eyes in his. "I didn't get so far in three years on sheer luck. When I work with someone I look into them, and there's limited information about your family floating around. If something has my interest I dig deeper."

"Then I should be flattered you've asked so many questions?" she returned, not backing down. Samson had remained quiet, a small smile on his face as he watched his wife handle herself.

"I'm very thorough," he responded before getting to his feet with a devilish smile. Only Camille caught it, for Isaac was distracted with the two guards who had once more approached. Or at least so he believed. The two Division Agents were much more perceptive than they let on. "Allow me to ask one more?" Salvador asked smoothly as the pair got to their feet. It was clear their little boat ride was over.

She flashed a look to Samson before nodding. "What did you have in mind?" Camille questioned, slipping up to her husband's side. It was a little surprising how much safer she felt when Samson's arm slipped around her waist. In case things went south he had her ceramic blade latched against his spine. For some reason pat downs never seemed to pay much attention to that area, and having a broader back than Alicia he'd managed to sneak it by.

"Where are the two of you staying?"

"The Hilton," Samson replied for them, following the men off of the boat. He swiftly lifted Alicia up before following after her.

Salvador had a week to learn more about the mystery of Camille Durden, and it was the first time a woman had interested him in a while. She was young and full of repressed life. Growing up in a crime oriented family wasn't easy, he knew that firsthand. As an attractive female in the city the bodyguard comment from earlier painted the beginning of the picture in his mind. "You'll stay in one of my guest rooms," a plan had already formed as the words left his lips, "I insist. It's the least I could do after having you fly all the way out here."

Birkhoff grimaced as Samson accepted the offer and plans were arranged. Staying at the house would mean more cameras, but that would be as much a curse as a blessing. It meant the pair would have to remain in character whenever they were on camera because he couldn't scrub their images like he usually would. He wanted to see Alicia, and if it came at the price of it being under the guise of Samson's wife well then he'd just put up with it. He'd had to watch the two interact since they day he'd first paid attention to her, so it was nothing new to him. Still, he was in a grumpy mood all day. This particular Op was getting on his nerves.

The first time he got to talk to Alicia was after she'd finished her scan on the room and slipped into the bathroom. "Hey Samson's joining us in a moment," she informed him, setting up her laptop. She'd connected over Division's servers, and from the open robe he'd guessed she'd used it to smuggle the laptop unnoticed. "There's a camera in the fire alarm, which is in the center of the main living area, bedroom included the perve. No bugs though; that's good," she'd barely finished talking when Samson stepped into view behind her, closing the bathroom door behind him.

"Can you get into the video feed?" he asked, not bothering to look towards the computer. Instead he strode to the large shower, opening the glass door to turn on the water. The multiple heads sprang to life and he turned his back on them, peeling off his shirt as he returned to where Alicia stood near the counter.

Birkhoff grimaced at the screen, watching as she unstrapped a knife from Samson's back. "It's proprietary software-"

"English," he cut him off, popping the headset out of his ear as he turned to face the monitor.

"It means he can't hack in," Alicia informed him, setting the knife holster beside the laptop. She'd had to leave the one Birkhoff had given her at home, and instead was using a much less impressive Division issued one. "Which you'd know if you'd paid any attention in class," she added pointedly.

He smiled a little at her attitude. "Right. So one of you scrubs will have to get me into the hard feeds," Birkhoff filled them in, "the sooner the better."

"Any bright ideas on how to do that?" Samson asked, setting a hand on Alicia's shoulder so he could take off his pants. He'd had the annoying man in his ear all day and he was tired of his voice. Punishing him was entertaining, and he had a feeling his sculpted body in such close to proximity would drive him crazy. "Or is it up to us to scope out how to approach the security room unseen?" he pushed, pointing out the obvious.

"A man like Dìaz would have it on his personal computer too," she pitched in, eyes focused on Birkhoff's image on her screen.

It wasn't difficult for him to ignore Samson in the background and turn his eyes on Alicia. She was in a white bathrobe, the tie undone and front open to reveal lingerie beneath it. "Get two minutes with his computer and I'll own the eyes in the house," he confirmed, his own eyes sweeping over her body.

"We'll find a way," she confirmed with a small nod. No reason to prolong the conversation they exited from the chat.

The moment the screen was clear Samson was reaching around her to access the laptop. "You can take the first shower," he offered, "I'll write up today's report." He lifted himself onto the counter, getting comfortable with the laptop in his lap wearing nothing but underarmor boxers. She didn't bother questioning him, he had Lead after all, and discreetly slipped into the shower, closing the tampered glass door behind her. It wasn't that Samson was focused on the report he was writing up that he didn't pull any moves on her; he had better plans. When she stepped from the shower he didn't look anywhere other than her eyes as he handed her a towel. He was also wearing nothing other than his smirk, and had stepped around her and into the running water.

When he finished she had the nightie she'd carried into the bathroom with her on her body and was waiting near the bathroom door. "Looks like we're married everywhere except in here," Samson commented smugly, walking around her and out into the bedroom. He only wore a towel wrapped around his waist, and she wasn't entirely surprised when he slung it over the chair and slipped into a pair of silk boxers mid-room.

Reminding herself that she was on a mission and had to perform to the best of her abilities she slipped out of the bathroom in the white mesh nightie. Having a camera in the mood really dampened her mood, but it was clear from Samson he was enjoying himself. He'd slipped under the covers, lying on his back with a satisfied smirk on his face as he appreciated Alicia from afar. She realized her mistake in allowing him to get into bed first; now she had to be the one to cuddle up next to him. They were supposed to be a happy married couple after all.

Sucking up her feelings she fell into her role, shutting off the light before climbing into the bed. She sidled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder as she molded to his side. Samson's bare skin was hot against hers and she was silently thankful he'd worn boxers. It was already uncomfortable enough and she waited for his hands to stray. If he made a move she wouldn't be able to fight it; not without breaking their cover. The only move he made was to lower his hand into her hair, and she hated to admit it was unusually comfortable tucked up against him. It reminded her of Birkhoff, and she fell asleep thinking this is going to be a long seven days.