Loid was always disappointed to be sent on missions with Fiona. Of course, he saw the necessity; on this mission in particular, a woman agent would plug many potential problems, secure their cover, and help let the guard down on their targets. Moreover, he would never deny that Fiona was one of the greatest agents in the nation, if not the world. Maybe even better than him now, after that recent training hiatus she'd taken in the wilderness.

The white-haired woman walked with purpose, head straight and eyes determined. Well, to his perspective, and likely nobody else on this planet. Her eyes were as cool and collected as ever, and her appearance was deliberately passive, unremarkable, blending in with the others shuffling along the streets as easily as him.

Just two folks heading out to a new bar together, nothing suspicious about it. Well, perhaps to Yor, she already seemed uneasy around his longtime accomplice ever since she dropped by the house unexpectedly. Nothing suspicious to the government about it, would be more accurate. That was the important part. None the less, he'd worn another face here just on the off chance his wife and daughter happened to be out and catch sight of them. Unlikely, but it was a risk there was no reason to take.

It had to be both of them; the agency needed their best hitters here.

Sylvia was compromised.

Thankfully, they didn't seem to know about her espionage role with his own nation, only her official public position. None the less, it was a liability that could not be allowed to continue. She'd been hesitant to share any details, and for an agent of that caliber, it could only mean something truly horrific. Still, their duty remained. They needed to infiltrate, destroy the incriminating photos, and capture or kill the sick bastards running this operation.

They'd gotten the location, at least, out of her.

It was some hole in the wall place on the wrong side of town. A hotel with three ragged rooms in the basement and a crappy dive bar on the ground level, a bad neighborhood with minimal police presence too. The sort of place you had to be more worried about gangs than the law. That was perhaps the only positive in this situation. The Ostanian government appeared to have nothing to do with this.

If they did, they'd done a damn good job making the place look like a hole for street scum.

Dim lights, little conversation, and a whole lot of nasty-looking people loitering about speaking in hushed words. Of course, that last part stopped when they came in. Eyes flying to them and looking the pair over, trying to be subtle and perhaps even succeeding; were they trying to fool a non-professional.

He counted eight and noted all their positions on the floor plan without breaking stride.

The bald, scarred man at the bar actually smiled, a warm if somewhat feisty grin as he spoke.

"Well, hey there! Haven't had quite as many new faces here as I'd like, welcome! Thanks for giving the place a try," he said genuinely. Truly genuinely, Loid noticed the eagerness in his eyes and the excitement building behind his face. Predatory, but still there.

Loid smiled back, closing his eyes as he did to look slightly frightened and overwhelmed.

"Ah, yeah! It's a… a real nice place you have here; are you the owner then?"

"Sure am, this place is my baby, poured all my damn money into it, but hey, it's turning a small profit," he offered kindly. Two of the pairs behind him started a fake, forced conversation. Talk about some vague and very demanding factory where they worked. "Enough for this, at least. First rounds on the house friends, what do you want?"

"Whiskey on the rocks and… a glass of red wine?"

"White wine," his partner corrected, earning a smile from both men.

"Yeah, I think we got a bottle under the bar; let me get it," he said with a barely perceptible glint to his eyes, leaning down and fiddling with the stock there at his knees. The two agents shared a quick glance as the two drinks were prepared: a proper wineglass which was far out of place for the setting, and a simple hand glass of whiskey that made him glad for his gloves.

Filthy.

It disgusted him in a whole other way when his partner lifted her glass and carelessly took a sip. More than a sip really! Honestly, he knew that she was resistant if not immune to most toxins, but it was another risk that was completely pointless! Feining a fake drink or even emptying the glass would have been trivial for her skill.

Tapping on his knee quickly told him via morse code that it was tampered with.

She tasted something wrong.

Imperceptibly, she started the next part of the plan, and told him she was ready.

That at least was good. The small vial she palmed out of her coat was poised. Loid only locked eyes with the bartender, playing up his nerves as he took a large gulp of the whiskey, as if to slam it back but failed. Lowering the mostly empty glass and coughing raggedly as if he hadn't poured it down the inside of his coat like a proper professional.

The point was that he could lean in a little more forcefully, bump the bar, get the glass knocked over and spilling over his partner's lap.

"Oh my go- I'm so sorry uh- both of you!" he blubbered out as his 'cough' got under control. The barman snickered. Fiona hesitated in her response, and not in the usual way. Not with a dead stare or fake flustered laugh that one might give to their date. She stared downward at nothing, her face slightly flushed.

This was bad.

"Come on dear, let's get home and put some dry clothes on. I, again, I'm so sorry. Here you go sir," he offered, pulling out a bill that would cover both drinks and a generous tip. The barman continued smiling, and that made him uneasy.

"Oh, it's no problem. Say, miss, why don't you go ahead down to one of the lofts and change into something dry? I don't know how far you live, but it is cold out there!" he insisted. Even with the sliver of honesty in his words, even without professional training, Loid knew it was a terrible idea to accept. That a trap of some sort was closing in around them.

"Y-yeah! Okay, yes, um, d-dear could you come along and help me?" she asked, eyes turning to look at him with rigid seriousness. Help her dress? What sort of nonsense request was that!?

"Of course, let's go," he agreed, betraying none of these thoughts. There was an appearance to be sold after all. Besides, he could follow her lead for once. Who knows, maybe she noticed something that he didn't. Maybe she desperately needed medical attention he could provide her?

The narrow stairway wasn't any more impressive than the bar, and neither were the rooms. Not much in it but a bed and a dresser, but before he could examine closer, she grabbed his jacket like he was about to catch a bullet! Involuntarily, he wheeled to face her and stare into her wide, almost manic eyes.

"Loid, I need you! Now!" she demanded.

"What happened? What are your symptoms?" he asked, whispering his own words and leaning in to do so. She shoved her mouth into his. Or his to hers; she yanked him down harder, into her. Immediately taking advantage of his shocked gasp, she speared her tongue into his mouth and groaned rapturously down his throat!

He pulled back, startled beyond words and unsure where to even begin with his questions.

"Loid I need you! I need you so bad I feel like I'm going to die! I'm so hot for you, I'm so damn hot, just fuck me! It'll feel so good!" she begged. The heat wasn't a lie. He could feel it practically radiating out of her even through the two sets of clothes and the wine there.

Her lips were already glistening moist, and slightly bruised from their forceful kisses. Swollen and calling out to him, even as his rational mind told him it was a terrible idea. He couldn't kiss her again, and he certainly couldn't actually fuck her; this was insane!

Then again, was it?

It's not as though he'd never slept with someone as part of a cover, and logically, this was the poison's standard effect. This was what the folks upstairs probably expected him to do. Why though? They were just random people off the street. What did they gain from the two of them fucking in their basement room? A room they'd given out for free, no less!

Were they busted, did they know their true identity?

Would Fiona hate him for this if he did go through with it? That shouldn't affect the decision, but it didn't really matter. Fiona would never fault him for doing something for the mission; shoving her off of him and confronting the men upstairs would only make them guarded. Fighting them while also fighting off Fiona might even be outside his skill set.

Besides, it was always better to let the mark think they were in control.

Though a part of him wondered if that was his dick thinking as he kissed her again, pleasure spiked through his body as they came together again! Her hands knocked his hat to the floor as they locked in and gripped his hair, not even hiding her strength as she forced the kiss to deepen. Then she threw him yet further off-guard, leaping into the air and pinning their crotches together with both legs wrapped expertly around his ass.

His mind strayed to Yor, to their recent date and the frisky way it had ended.

Of the relationship that she thought was becoming real and that, briefly, he had too. Besides that, he had to keep her happy and satisfied as a part of his mission, his cover. Besides that, if Yor was angered to the point of being drastic, she could pose a serious threat to even him and even the agency!

Angered by, for example, her husband cheating with the gorgeous coworker she suspected.

The buttons on his vest ripped as she yanked open his simple collared shirt.

God, he was perfect. So muscled and toned, but still soft, smooth, graceful!

So goddamn hot! That wasn't the best of it, though. The best of it was that it was him. Loid, her mentor, her idol, her sexy savior was really nibbling on her lips while she held the two of them together! What else could possibly matter? What else was there to think about?

Who cares if the bed smelled, who cares if they were on a mission!?

All that mattered was getting that thick, perfect cock out of his clothes and into her folds. To that end, she lurched their weight into a professional throw, once again surprising him and getting the movement she wanted.

Loid hit the mattress with a gasp.

The woman on top of him wasted no time shoving her tongue back into his mouth, even as he actually separated their crotches for one damn moment. The reason became apparent quickly. Her hands fiddling with his belt, then his buckle, then yanking those down too, with no regard for damaging his outfit!

He sucked in a sharp breath when her hand gripped his cock. It was firm but soft, warm, and it wasted no time immediately pumping rapidly to increase that warmth. It almost made him angry when she stopped. It only lasted a moment, her body lurching once more to line it up with her bare snatch.

Loid hadn't even noticed her undressing.

He noticed everything!

He groaned, low and long, as she sank down onto him. The warmth he felt before was not a flicker of the pleasure she gave him now; her insides so perfectly warm and wet and tight! God, he hadn't had sex in so long! Living with such a gorgeous faux wife, seeing her half naked often, and seeing the sexy nurturing side of her constantly as she looked over Anya, had left him so pent up!

It was a state of mind buried easily enough, but now it was dug up!

Now he finally got to release it, he had a duty to the façade after all, there was no choice. There was absolutely no reason not to enjoy it. There was no reason not to grab either of her smooth, bare asscheeks and increase the force of their thrusting fivefold as they frantically clapped their bodies together!

"Oh my God, YES Loid! Oh god I love you, I love this so much your incredible. This is the best day of my life!" she cried. Hearing his real name, he pulled her mouth back to his and kissed her hard. They never stopped groaning and grinding while they fucked. The only thing noisier was the sound of the crapped bed beneath them bucking and creaking along with their fucking. It was a noisy environment, suffice to say.

Only a spy, and only the best of them, would have noticed the faint sounds from above. A moving board, a little shuffling, the distinct click of a camera. Fiona would have heard it too under normal circumstances, though whether she did now was anyone's guess. She certainly gave no indications as she continued kissing him with her eyes wide open.

Her focus seemed to be entirely on getting her orgasm.

To be fair, she was close. That little coil was getting tighter and tighter and she knew that any second it would snap! The pressure would break, her bliss would flood out, and everything would be right! Though it was actually Loid popping off that finished her. Either the feeling, or just the knowledge of what was happening, that the love of her life was really pouring his warm essence into her, filling her with his seed!

Either way, they both cried out as they came.

Loid about unconscious by the time she was done milking his shaft for every last viscous, pearly drop. It was only then that it occurred to him he really should have worn a condom. As if she would have let him, as if there was time at any point in this wild half-hour.

When he finally focused up, the look she gave him was blank, normal.

"There's someone upstairs with a camera; they've been taking shots the last ten minutes, and there's no way they'll be able to hide it in time if we rush upstairs," she said, in an instant back to her senses. Talking to him like an agent even as his wet cock continued resting inside of her.

Maybe there was an actual reason she didn't pull their clothes all the way off after all.

There was much shuffling and forced chatter as they both flew up the stairs together. Dispatching eight petty criminals wasn't any trouble, and it allowed them to get another sample of the poison, if that was the right term. A small pink vial under the bar, several in fact, plus the camera and a whole mess of pictures in a floor safe, including Sylvia's.

Fiona volunteered to take them in and was gone before he could stop her. It was the right decision, to be fair. He had a home to get back to and people who might question him for showing up there late. Not to mention the ongoing project with Anya and her schooling. A quick wash and change of clothes were easy enough to do at a public gym where he had supplies stashed; he ended up actually getting home early.

Everything had gone fine.

So why the hell was he more panicked than he'd been in years?

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