Live Laugh Love

Love, that's all it takes to pull off the biggest stunt of the year. When all a enemy sees is love, they don't expect you to have a bulletproof vest on. I mean come on, who ever heard of Willow Sanders wearing one? So, when you do something extraordinary like this, it usually includes a small blood bag under your clothes, pulse blocking clothes (AN: yes, they exist in my world), and a couple long rifles to takedown the rest of the goons. Duh. Skipping around my bosses desk saying, "I told you so," is probably not what I should be doing, but I am. The boys are being held in the confrence room until everything is settled, probably freaked out, and I'm acting like a five-year old. Yup, typical day. For some reason my partner is being relocated, as I'm told. It's sad, but I think I can manage for a while. I'll definetly keep in touch, that's for sure. "SANDERS, Get out of lala land and get moving! We've got fans to calm and you look like a bloody mess!" My boss yells. "Fine!" Geez, what crawled up that Geezer's ass? I ran to my office to grab an extra set of clothes and flung them on. Hmmm, skinny jeans and a tank top with some boots, good enough. I quickly pinned my badge on the side of my jeans, pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and loaded up on weapons. "You've got blood on your cheek Ms. Sanders," my boss told me. I only shrugged my shoulders and walked out to the flashing cameras of the press and shouting of fans, "It doesn't matter what they think, and it's a cut, not just blood." I heard gasps everywhere in the room as they all stared wide eyed. What? I can't date a popstar and kick ass? Oh, this will be fun.

Notes

Sooooo, how many think this is the end? Cause it's not. I'm thinking..... marriage and a russian mafia. Who's with me? *Insert devilish grin*