A Tale Of Two Spies

I was up and dressed by seven a.m., hot coffee in one hand, manila case folder in the other. I impatiently drummed my red fingernails on the hard, granite kitchen island, and glanced down at my watch.

He was late.

Two more hours had trudged by when I heard the familiar rumble of Zayn's motorcycle in my driveway, and I watched his leather-clad figure dismount and swagger up to my doorstep. He only knocked once before the hinges creaked and he just barged in.

"I see you still leave the spare key in the flower pot." He chuckled, hanging his jacket on the small peg just beside the door in his old routine. He tossed me the small metal key and I sent him a scowl.

"You're late."

"I know. But I picked up some donuts on the way. A raspberry filled glazed for you, and chocolate with sprinkles for me. Just like old times." He winked and ran his tongue over his lips.

"Are you still sleeping around just like old times?" I snapped, pushing past him towards the living room. He threw up his hands and I heard his footfalls behind me.

"Give me a break already Carter. When are you going to move on?"

I dropped the subject, pressing the crisp folder into his hands instead and drawing the curtains shut.

"Here's the list of possible suspects that Ron sent over this morning."

He sent me a smirk before scanning over it, his eyebrows arched the way they always did when he was in deep thought. I gnawed on my bottom lip, letting my gaze fall over his familiar face and down his shoulders, remembering all of the hidden tattoos and scars I had discovered in the past.

He cleared his throat, and my eyes shot up into his own amused ones. I blushed and snatched the folder away, making sure our fingers didn't make contact as I pulled away.

"So what's the plan?" My voice was two octaves higher than usual as he reclined back on my sofa, tucking his hands between his head in an arrogant manner.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Well, seeing as we only have three months to investigate half of the people in the White House I think it's a good idea to get started now."

He rolled his eyes, but stood up and came close to me. So close that I could feel his cool breath fan across my forehead.

"I think you should back off and just let the big boys handle this one..." he trailed his finger down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in it's path.

"B-but, we w-were put on it together..." my voice faltered as he came even closer into me.

"But I don't want a piece of fine China as yourself getting hurt." He whispered, lifting my chin up so my eyes could meet his. Something in them caused my brain to switch back on and I pulled away.

"Nice try Zayn. But I'm not another one of your victims. The sexy brainwashing strategy won't work on me."

He smiled and licked his lip again, running a hand through his hair.

"It's has before." His hands trailed down onto my waist and I shoved my palms into his chest.

"Back to the mission. We're gonna need a REAL strategy."

"So I really won't be able to convince you otherwise?"

"I'm doing this damn mission." I hissed through my teeth. Zayn studied me a while longer before running a hand over the stubble on his chin.

"Whatever princess. So what's the plan of attack?"

"The President is having a dinner party in three days. Ron got us a straight shot in. That should give us an opportunity to scan for the faces in here," I paused to tap the folder, "and possibly make small talk. And make assesions. When the party ends, we slip out unnoticed and compare info at HQ."

"If you had a plan already why did you even need my fucking input." He clucked his tongue and I grimaced.

"Because I am perfectly capable of handling this mission alone. I am just choosing to make you feel involved. I'm the real one in charge here."

He leaned down into my ear, and I went still.

"We'll see about that." And he left the room, grabbing his jacket and sending me a wink before closing the front door behind him.

It wasn't until I heard the sounds of his motorcycle grumbling away, did I allow myself to crumble into a kitchen chair.

Notes