Licking the cracked skin of his chapped lips, the dark man scraped his bloodied fingers across the rough walls narrowly framing him on either side. The steady beat of his thick soles on the pavement reverberated overhead as the geometric red lines drawn stopped only for artist to quickly step out of the way of a trashcan or mangled body. To think—the stench of death used to make him gag as a boy! Now he held it as a warm acquaintance on both of his hands. Nearing the corner, he placed his palms against either end of his brick frame and took a deep gasp of city air. Pulling the calloused hands away, he turned back to inspect his work. Where stopped, there was a thick brown-red hand-print. With a quiet laugh, he took a moment to draw a smiley face over it and write 'This is Wilson' with a near-invisible arrow pointing at the print. It reminded him of a really, really old and rare movie he had once seen from the 1990s with his parents when he was a kid. The guy was in misery on this island and befriended a bloody volleyball named Wilson. Strange flick, but still hilarious. They had to use a DVD player and a television to watch it!

Nicholas was not really a violent man. He had actually come across this mess while simply “passing through” the city limits. The lacerated forms were already there when he had walked by—there was not a living soul around to blame for the crime. One malnourished victim was lying right there, wallet flopped on top of his bulging stomach curving into ribcage. Of course, how could Nick pass up such a good opportunity? He knelt down and searched the wallet for an I.D like any good citizen would have! There was obviously no money left, the guy's name was Henry Williams and he still had a half-full carton of cigarettes right there in his front pocket! Finally! Something useful on a corpse. Giving Henry a pat-down for good measure, he took the man's cigarettes and called in his discovery to the RTF. Third dead guy this week! Nick could make a fortune if he were paid for discovering fat dead guys.

But he wasn't. And naturally, his partner was nowhere to be seen. Every time there was any hint of action, neither one of them was able to catch it as a team. It sort of sucked because teamwork made things seem much more like they were a task force than just two random young adults going out, stabbing things, and taking cigarettes out of dead guys' pockets. Eyes darting to the few people out on the streets, the man dialed a quick line of numbers and put his phone to his ear.

“Oi.” He groaned at his partner. “Where are you?”

Laney watched Nick from a distance, amused at his behavior. She was couched in the shadows of an alley, eyes peeled for danger. It wasn’t strange to be attacked when out on a mission, especially after already finding three dead in just one week. Better safe than sorry. The RTF was definitely hiding something from her and her partner, but whatever that information she was she couldn’t be sure. She’d never fully trusted the rebel agency in the first place. Something about it felt wrong. Then again, everything about society today was wrong, so perhaps it was just human instinct kicking in to warn her of a danger that wasn’t present. But after working alongside agents such as Nick, the adrenaline became an addiction. It didn’t matter if the RTF was withholding information. As long as she had her daily adrenaline run things worked out.

When Nick pulled out his phone to report back to their agency, Laney straightened and stretched with a cat-like yawn. Something about these men had to be similar. They had all been killed in the same way, yet at first glance showed no signs of sharing any important similarities. Yet despite this lack of information, the brunette already knew who was behind the killing. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

Beep. Beep beep. Sighing, she retrieved her phone from her pocket and flicked it open in time to hear Nick’s groan. A chuckled danced across her lips. “Use your eyes, smart-ass. I’m coming.” Closing the phone with a click, Laney shoved her hands into her short pockets and trotted harmlessly across the street until she reached her partner. She paused a few feet away from him, eyeing the corpse blankly.

“The agency gave me a call,” she said indifferently, golden gaze flickering to meet Nick’s. “We’re to report back to headquarters. Apparently some mission for us.” It was obvious that she wasn’t all that interested in what the RTF had to say. Being out on the field was what she cared for, not listening to a bunch of old fat men who were opposing the government.

“I'm a strategist—not a detective!” Nick laughed at the suddenly visible approaching figure. A dainty woman strutted across the street in complete nonchalance, dark chestnut hair fluttering behind her in playful wisps. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he gave her a basic nod of greeting while retrieving his lighter from his back pocket. The sudden taste of his craved tobacco flared across his tongue like the flame used to light. Now comfortable, the ravenette leaned against his artwork and took in every curve of his partner's mouth while she spoke.

“The agency gave me a call,” Laney said indifferently, golden gaze flickering to meet Nick’s. “We’re to report back to headquarters. Apparently some mission for us.” Icy eyes darted to the corpses lying at his feet. Most likely, Henry Williams had people who wanted the rest of his body. If not, there were probably others that wouldn't mind it. Pushing himself to full height, Nick shrugged and started trekking his way back to HQ, long hand resting easy over his left hip.

“Good. We need a real game to play.” The man joked, looking back at the warm-eyed woman. “This has been gettin' boring anyway, right?” It was too easy to get used to having a partner like Laney around. Nick had been used to these bulky dudes, stealing his stuff or taking his limelight. Laney—hell, she just came with her own limelight. No need to steal. Everyone counted on her to be the smart one. He was counted on figuring out where to go and how to get there—Ha. His talent was being a human map.

“Yo, where did you scurry offta anyway?” The man bantered. “I'm over here needin' a shower and you're still all...” he stumbled for the word, moving his hand in a circle to indicate. “...you.”

Laney frowned as her partner stood to his full height. He was several inches taller than her and had the air of strength about him. She, athletic but spindly, was rarely accused of being deadly - that was, at least until the point where she attacked. Taking long strides to keep up with his pace, she tagged along in silence, eyes upon the pathway before her. From experience she'd learned never to let her guard down, not even to take a stroll down the street - or at least what was left of the street. Today, people weren't afraid to commit crimes in the broad of daylight. In fact, it seemed a sport to them. The adrenaline rush gave them a false sense of bliss towards their shattered world. It was more recreation than crime any longer.

“Yo, where did you scurry offta anyway?” Nick bantered. “I'm over here needin' a shower and you're still all...” he stumbled for the word, moving his hand in a circle to indicate. “...you.”

The brunette's face split into a cheshire grin and she winked at him playfully. The grin itself faded quickly, replaced by an unwelcomed frown. "I noticed that the body had been moved. Some of the dirt particles and plant materials didn't belong where we found him. I was trying to figure out if he'd been killed in an alley close to the place where his body was found." She looked perplexed if not curious. They were dealing with a lot more than just your average stray. Whoever had killed Mr. Henry Williams and the two other men wasn't going to make it easy for them.

"By the way," she continued, "smoking is bad for you." Without hesitation, Laney snatched the cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the ground before her where she proceeded to purposefully step on the smoking bud. "Smoking makes you ten times less attractive. The only woman who'd go after you would be a prostitute." An irritated expression painted in her golden gaze, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and continued on her way.

"I noticed that the body had been moved. Some of the dirt particles and plant materials didn't belong where we found him. I was trying to figure out if he'd been killed in an alley close to the place where his body was found." Her eyes had become curious, animal-like even. Whatever was going through her mind, hit him in an instant. The killings weren't simple killings. The three dead men were doing fair in life...they were registered citizens. Rich enough to afford the honor of a card with their name. They paid taxes at one point in their life. If only he knew where they worked or could access more than their name and age. But even the RTF did not have that power! The ideas racked his mind. Whoever had killed the body was sloppy--or they were trying to make it look sloppy. They did leave his I.D.. They didn't massacre his face. Something wasn't...right.

"God, Laney, you got all that in a glance?” Rubbing his hand through his knotted hair, the man shook his head. Laney never failed to surprise! She was just so...damned intelligent. “Well, what matters most is not where he was killed.” Nick said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This area is more dangerous than usual. We know that. What matters is who killed him. And whoever that is, he's gotta be close, right?” Pausing in step to turn his head back, the man grinned a million-watt smile with the glowing cigarette mashed in his bite.

Laney's spindly fingers snatched it away while she scolded him for the nasty habit. Blah blah, don't smoke--it makes you less attractive, it's unhealthy, you always smell like tobacco. He'd heard it all before. His pleasantness was stomped out just like the old squashed friend on the pavement. Happy glimmers gone from his eyes, Nick groaned like an angsty teenager. "Y'know, prostitution is a very stable profession these days!" Keeping with her pace, the man nudged her with an elbow. "And I think you think it's sexy."

Nick didn't attempt to light another. He knew if he kept it up, most likely, he would lose his whole carton. Smirking down at her, his eyebrows jerked upward. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Well, what matters most is not where he was killed. The words repeated over ten fold as they continued onward towards the RTF base. Nick was right, it was definitely important who killed the man. Yet it was definitely more important where he was murdered. If they found the site of the murder they could sweep for DNA, discover new evidence that could ultimately lead them to the killer himself. While the direct approach of rampaging through the city to find their murderer was more enjoyable, getting the evidence to back it up was more important. Without that evidence they couldn't charge the killer with the murder of the three men. And not only could the murder site provide evidence, but could perhaps give them a trail to backtrack and find their guy more effectively.

Laney's thoughts snapped back to the situation at hand at the sound of Nick's groan. She rolled her eyes, too accustomed the expression that nagged at the sharp angles of his face to be bothered. "Y'know, prostitution is a very stable profession these days!" Golden, malevolent eyes snapped to Nick's face. "Prostitution is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard of," she hissed through gritted teeth. "What sort of woman would give up her body for money anyway...? Go get a job. Nobody said women couldn't work."

A shiver tickled along her spine when his elbow nudged her, none to gently but not enough to hurt. Color splashed across her cheeks and she instinctively turned her head to hide her embarrassment. "You and smoking have something in common - you don't have an ounce of sexy in you," Laney prodded defiantly. "And besides, you can't get any women. Why would you think you could ever get me?" Shooting him a daggered expression, she turned off down an alleyway towards the entrance of the RTF.

The headquarters sat back underneath the chaos of the city, watching as more and more died by the hand of the criminal government. The entrance was a door at the back of the alley protected by several authorized pass-codes as well a swipe of an ID and a retinal scan. Once in through the door you stepped into a closely observed elevator which descended into the center of the headquarters; she herself had always considered the place to look like the Chamber of Secrets from her dearly loved Harry Potter series - then again, the popularity of those books had died off years ago.

"I want to drop by my room after we talk to the Leaders," Laney said blankly while stepping into the elevator.

A cold shock sent the man back a few steps, his blue eyes growing regretful at his statement. "Well, yeah." Putting on his best kicked-puppy look, he held up his hands. "Women can work. Men too. Some just...I dunno, choose not to or can't. Some people aren't as lucky we are." Damn it, he knew it was the truth too. The little air of silence brushed between them as they neared the alley to the RTF.

"You and smoking have something in common - you don't have an ounce of sexy in you," Laney prodded defiantly. "And besides, you can't get any women. Why would you think you could ever get me?" Glad to be back in an easy topic, he simply grinned and raised his dark eyebrows once more.

"I usually do great with pretty girls!" Batting his eyelashes, he scratched himself against the narrow wall to position himself beside Laney. "I could be one hell of an ugly shit. Doesn't matter. I've got enough personality to make up for all of them. Including you."
Approaching the metallic double-doored elevator cleverly placed amongst heaps of garbage, he gracefully thumbed in his long pass code on a pad on the near wall and grumbled his painfully stupid full name into a speakerbox. "NicholasNigelJackson!" He whispered quickly. "Anyway, it's not like I can't get a girl," The ravenette sighed. "I choose not to. Too dangerous for her and my job's more important than my relationships." Kneeling, he pulled his hair away from his face and looked into a red beam of light in the doorway. A crimson flash swallowed the vision in his left eye and he blindly stumbled toward the newly opened elevator.

"Huh." Nick laughed, rubbing his face. "Well alright, if you insist. But I'm going to have to shower first." He winked. "You're welcome to join me for that too."

The elevator had always given her chills. Something about the smooth metallic walls and blank black carpet made her want to get out as quickly as possible. She was sure that something more was going on in the small enclosed space than what met the eye. Today's technology was incredible. Even a speck of dust could prove as evidence as to where an agent had been and who they'd been talking with. The security was uncanny, shocking, and even the agents themselves were wary that their own personal lives would be torn apart.

"Anyway, it's not like I can't get a girl," Nick sighed. "I choose not to. Too dangerous for her and my job's more important than my relationships."

She couldn't help herself - Laney rolled her eyes. "Oh, now that is some well-thought excuse! How long did it take you to make that one up?" The brunette leaned against one of the silver walls, guard down. Relationships. Even though she'd spoken such words against him, she knew he was right - and she knew he knew she was aware that he was right. Relationships were dangerous when you worked for the RTF. The government targeted agents with whatever advantage they could, whether it be a pet or a family member. And while many agents dated amongst themselves, the Higher Ups were very against the development of close relationships. If you had feelings for another agent, they were strictly private. Any goings-on between the two were secret, confidential, and were strictly kept under close watch.

The doors closed with a swoosh and a click. Soon enough the elevator began its decent towards the base. Laney looked up at her partner as he laughed. Between his words and the wink, she failed to keep herself from flushing a rosy pink. "Yeah, like that'd ever happen," she snorted, clearly flustered. "I'm not stupid. I know a man like you has little control over hormones." If anyone knew that slandering people was her way of covering her embarrassment, Nick did.

The elevator began its slow descent, causing Nick's stomach to churn up into his heart. His fingers twitched on the gray edge of his revolver as each volume of earth growing above them made him feel more insecure about his position. Strange. He had always been more comfortable around crime than he was with his own people. Nick jerked his hat from the back of his pants and pulled the brim low over his face.

Laney rolled her eyes. "Oh, now that is some well-thought excuse! How long did it take you to make that one up?" The brunette leaned against one of the silver walls, expression unguarded.

"It was well-thought! And it's not an excuse!" He had other things to say about the topic. His logic behind it, when he'd came up with it, all sorts of things...but Nick didn't dare speak of it in case the elevator was tapped. There was only one thing the RTF didn't know about him--and that was how his mind worked. He didn't want to give his sole secret away.

And the idea of a shared shower? Denied. As most of his advances were. "It could happen, darlin'. I only need to hear 'yes'!" Patting her rosy blush, he smiled. "And I have plenty of control of my hormones. We've been in conditions together before and has anything happened between us? No, it has not. You and I--we're painfully safe." The extra spark of blue in his eyes lit up brighter. Of course, there had been close moments but still, how else did the RTF expect to get two fantastic agents to bond so well?

Leaning against the metal, another uneasy sound escaped the man's chest. He was ready to escape from the contraption. The ravenette didn't like being in areas so closed-off, so air-tight. Icy blues darted up at the puny camera in the ceiling and he made an unhappy expression at it and considered twice flipping it the bird.

Golden eyes blinked as his hand patted her cheek. Laney's heart gave an involuntary jump, her pulse dancing along at an alarming rate. It wasn't as if she could deny that she did have some sort of emotional attachment to Nick. It was painfully obvious, at least to her - whether or not he knew was another story. But letting her emotions get out of control scared her. She didn't want anything to do with love. In fact, she feared it. Love made you soft-hearted and vulnerable. An agent at her rank needn't get caught up in the moment such as the one she was lingering on.

"Tch," the brunette piped, biting her tongue and crossing her arms. "Like you'd ever try to pull anything anyway," she muttered. Maybe it was a challenge or maybe a warning. Part of her wanted to understand the emotional connection between her and her partner. Part of her was afraid of what would happen once she understood that connection. Chill-bumps ran along her arms and she fell silent, unsure how to proceed in such a tense atmosphere.

Thankfully, a moment later the elevator doors pulled open and the smell of sodden earth hit them almost immediately. It was fairly silent at this point in the day - most agents were out in the field and other RTF employees were buried in paperwork and research. Laney quickly escaped from the stuffy space of the elevator. Not bothering to wait for her partner, she headed down the dimly lit hallway towards the Western Wing where their meeting with the Leaders would be held. To be completely honest, the agent wasn't looking forward to the meeting at all. While there was a possibility of getting a more exciting mission, she'd have to deal with the men who held authority over her. Perhaps it was her personality or her need for dominance, but when you pit her up against someone who held considerably more power, there was bound to be issues.

"Why in hell did we choose to make our base down here?" she murmured to herself while wiping a light layer of sweat from her brow. It was considerably more humid underground, something that Laney hated more than anything. "Maybe I should take a shower," she continued quietly. The thought of Nick's offer brought forth another rosy blush.

"Hmn." Nerves were pricking at his chest--it wasn't surprising that he was near willing to light up again. But not four thousand some feet under the ground where clean air was already so sparse. The doors came open and Laney quickly darted from their hold, Nick was trodding not too far behind, eyes holding a blank expression to the everyday scene. He treaded softly behind her swaying hair and was careful to not make eye-contact with those he didn't care for. Some stopped him to pat him on the shoulder for carrying evidence of his new find on his body, others sneered at the fact he couldn't stay clean while on the simplist of missions. Most, however, stayed silent. A morose-looking, black-haired, bloody, six-foot-tall man with a firearm on his side and a sword on his back was still considered intimidating even in this day and age.

"Why in hell did we choose to make our base down here?" Laney murmured to herself while wiping a light layer of sweat from her brow. Nick wasn't sure if it was the tension or the temperture but her uneasiness made him need to joke. Or talk. Which ever came first, really. "Maybe I should take a shower," she continued quietly.

"Because all the other rebel forces keep their bases above ground? It keeps us hipster." Nick loved to use old slang...even when it was terribly out-of-place. His head bobbed with his words, a warm, boyish smile growing at the word 'shower'. "Why Laney Dear, are you accepting my invitation?"

At the end of the wing was yet another air locked door. The man was cautious to approach, stopping casually at the doors, pressing his shoulder against the cool metal and crossing his arms. If he could do anything to stall his time going in, he would. Tucking his hair back, he nodded at it as if it were a friend.

People were watching them as they passed. Some would stop and glare, others grinned. It was absolutely normal for people to do such things, but today it was different. Something was different, and Laney knew that whatever was waiting for them inside the Leader's meeting room was going to give her some sort of enlightenment on why. The idea of getting a difficult mission was extremely appealing. Lately they'd been dealing with the minor, less exciting cases that seemed to be solved as quickly as discovered. But with a difficult mission came a difficult time ahead - and that didn't only apply because of the mission. Other factors such as her partner and other agents came into play as well.

"Why Laney Dear, are you accepting my invitation?"

His response tore her from her thoughts. The brunette visibly tensed and her rosy cheeks deepened in rich red. "Don't be stupid. There is no way you could get me in that shower with you," she stuttered in a rush, not pausing to consider that her words could hold multiple meanings. A passing researcher dropped an armful of papers to the ground and proceeded to stare as the two continued down the hallway. Laney chewed her lip cautiously. Suddenly her shoes seemed exceptionally more interesting than Nick's face. As soon as she looked away she felt the pressure in her cheeks die off, even if only in the slightest.

As if saving her from more embarrassment, the door to the meeting room finally appeared before them. She was surprised that not only she, but he was hesitating to enter the room. Both knew what awaited on the other side of the door, and while both were excited, several negative emotions crammed themselves in as well. There was one particular face that she wasn't ready to see - hopefully he wouldn't be here.

"Let's get this over with," she sighed and with the swipe of an ID card the doors opens with a crisp shhh. Laney, hands cupping the back of her head in a bored sort of manner, stepped into the room -- to immediately be greeted by the face she'd been dreading to see.

Jay McMaster. He had served as her partner for the first year or so while with the RTF and had taken a very personal liking to her. She might have been alright with this matter except for the fact that he openly expressed his emotions - very openly at that. As soon as she stepped through the door he flung himself at her to embrace her. It was quite a terrific sight when she ducked out of the way and sent the grown man sprawling to the ground.

"Ah, Laney, Nick, nice of you to show yourselves," came a voice from the circular desk. Mr. Jean was a stout man with sharp features and an even sharper set of eyes.

Swallowing but somehow managing to keep on an indifferent expression, Laney strolled up to the desk and snatched up the folder with their names on it. Without a hint of hesitation she turned on her heel and headed for the door. "No need to tell us what's in the folder," she said bluntly. "We can read."

The doors slid open on the command of Laney's Identification Card. Pulling the brim of his newsboy cap over his eyes, the man rolled his head around on his shoulders before entering the room, dulled expression cold. His gaze shifted from the first young face in the room looking for two more particularly aged than the boy. Ed Bryant, the leathery-complexioned "Deputy" sat at the corner of Mr. Jean's desk...with a strangely serious expression pulling at the sides of his mouth.

The kid was actually no kid. He was about twenty or twenty-five, cherubic faced, neatly groomed soft-looking hair, clean--compared, Nick felt like a zombie standing there in all his grimy glory. Jay McMaster flung himself forth from his position next to Mr. Jean, arms outstretched like any pretty ballet dancer for an embrace with the "Love of His Life!". Laney took a quick side step and Jay tumbled over himself and fell flat on that pretty little face. Nick could always manage to keep a straight face around Jay, but damn, this guy was making it harder and harder not to laugh right at his guts. Offering a filthy hand down to the down-trodden man, Nick smiled that same deathly smile he reserved only for interrogation victims. "McMaster. Nice to see you, as always."

"Ah, Laney, Nick, nice of you to show yourselves," Mr. Jean said, glaring at them with a pair of electric eyes. Nick rolled his head and shoulders once more and pulled his hat brim lower. There was always something about Mr. Jean that made him want to avoid eye-contact. Laney, however, was much braver. She neatly strolled up to Jean's desk and whisked the folder of the brief of their next mission away in her delicate hands. "No need to tell us what's in the folder," she said bluntly. "We can read."

"I understand him," Nick said while pointing to Bryant, but waving his hand around at the overly-bubbly male-thing to his left, "But why does he have to be here?"

She could feel his eyes on her back, those electric eyes that always made her feel as if she had to ball up every emotion and keep it hidden from sight. Mr. Jean had always bothered her whether it was just by the look in his gaze or the way he acted when around her and any other agent. She didn't feel as if she could trust him like she could others like Nick and, well, Jay (despite how much she was disliking him at the moment). Around Jay she never felt in danger - while he was quite the character, when it came to serious matters he knew what to do to keep those around him safe. And Nick. Well, that was another story. Although she'd known him for a while now, she had yet to decide what she felt about the dark man. At times he was frightening, dark and dangerous, and at others he could sweep her off her feet like any other girl.

"I understand him," Nick said while pointing to Bryant, but waving his hand around at the overly-bubbly male-thing to his left, "But why does he have to be here?"

Laney shifted golden eyes to Nick, blank but with a twinkle of amusement. "Tch, better not to ask questions," she replied blankly, giving him a shrug. "Let's go. No need to waste more time than we already have." Taking Nick's wrist, she tugged him towards the door which opened with a crisp shh. Those eyes were on her back again, those eyes that chilled her to the core. They were judging, anticipating, reading her even without seeing the expressions in her eyes and on her lips. Her breath caught up in her lungs and her grip upon Nick tightened.

As soon as the door slid shut she released a heavy breath. "Let's get out of here quickly," she said quietly, frowning. "Shower, grab your stuff, whatever. I don't want to be anywhere that man." Laney glanced over her shoulder at her partner, golden gaze trying to read his expression.

"Tch, better not to ask questions," she replied blankly, giving him a shrug. "Let's go. No need to waste more time than we already have." Taking Nick's wrist, she tugged him towards the door which opened with a crisp shh. He looked down at her hand and allowed himself to be tugged along. This time, he wouldn't mind letting a woman control him--he wanted out of that room as much as the next guy. Nick's lungs were freed when he passed the threshold of the doors but even then, Laney had yet to let go of him. "Let's get out of here quickly," she said quietly, frowning. "Shower, grab your stuff, whatever. I don't want to be anywhere near that man."

Thumbing his hat brim away from his face, the corners of the man's mouth twitched. "Well. Unless you're coming with me..." Blue eyes darted down at her thin fingers wrapped around his wrist. It was easy to tell the woman was scared shitless about her superiors. Nick wanted to pat her or tell her that everything was alright but...personal contact was still a little iffy about her. Especially in these conditions.

"I'll meet you at your room in forty-five minutes," The ravenette sighed. "We'll strategize and leave. Or leave and strategize at the next checkpoint. Whatever." He shrugged, turning on his heels.

"That offer is still open, Laney," he teased.

Laney was glad that she didn't seem to be the only one flustered by the men in the room behind them. But perhaps flustered wasn't the right word. Frightened, maybe, but she didn't want to accept that she had any fear of anyone. The men behind them were all talk, no action. If they wanted something done, they hired someone else to take out their trash. She felt the need to impress them, show them she wasn't the child they believed she was, yet every time she stood before them she became stoic and cold -- unprofessional.

Not hearing his comment but following the flicker of his gaze, the brunette realized for the first time since leaving the meeting room that her fingers were still curled tightly around his wrist. Bristling slightly, her hand snapped back behind her back and her eyes once more found her shoes more interesting than her partner. Her heart hurt from its beating and she had to forcibly calm herself down before she could look back up at Nick with an impassive expression painted across her face. Forty-five minutes. That seemed a reasonable amount of time to get what done what she needed finished before heading out. Of course, her curiosity of the folder in her hand was driving her mad. If curiosity killed the cat, she was one dead feline.

"That offer is still open, Laney," Nick teased; it was incredible that she kept her composure through her overwhelming mix of irritation and embarrassment. Again her chest hurt and once more she forced it to subside.

"Not now," she said, tilting her head and patting his chest as if to say, "good try". "Maybe later." Eyes grinning a cheshire smirk, she turned on her heel. In the process of leaving she lightly trailed her fingertips along his jaw, teasing him as payback - or maybe it was something more.

Mouth coming open with the touch of her fingers, at first he was at a stumble for words. "There better be a later!" Nick finally shouted. The retreating pixie form was already safely down the corridor.

Nick's room wasn't far away. It was somewhere amongst the maze of tunnels only a few turns of the corner in the east wing. Many of the agents had personalized their homes to make them more livable...as for Nick, when he opened the door there was one box. He had no childhood belongings. Nothing that would connect him to a mother or father, nothing that appeared of value, not even a pillow. Nick was a man of action--he had no time for worldly belongings.

Once inside, he had kicked off one dust-covered boot at a time, grabbed a new change of clothes and tromped into the community shower two rooms down. It was always so stupid. There were individual stalls, of course, but the curtains were crappy, flimsy, or simply torn down. Not fun in the least. The RTF could afford this fancy underground rat race but not decent curtains for the stupid showers. While pulling the curtain closed on his semi-decent stall, a rusted ring popped off, floppy corner fell down and partially exposed him. He had cleaned off and re-dressed enough to be presentable while damply bolting down the hall in less than three minutes.

Women were, needless to say, allowed in his portion of the east wing, but they usually didn't dare tread. The place smelled of corn-chips and spent cigarettes. The womens' side smelled like sweet flowers and sweat. Nick reminded himself of the top things to do before he violated the womanly domain. Boots? Clean. Pants? Yes. Shirt? Yes. Hair combed? Yes. (for once.) Did he smell? Not in a bad way, he thought. Did he have everything in case they didn't let him back? Yes. Good. Now he could enter safely. Why these rules were so important? He had no clue. They were just good to follow. But ten minutes earlier than he had said, the man was knocking on the door he had so often ended up standing outside while begging forgiveness, asking questions, or looking for a "friend" at 2 AM.

"Laney, can I come in yet?" He asked, using his knuckles to knock on the door.

The expression on his face had been priceless. Laney struggled to swallow down the laughter in her lungs and somehow managed the feat until she reached her room where she allowed herself a brief chuckle. Her room, filled with the scent of vanilla candles, was crisp, untouched. Then again, the room was definitely too small and cramped with the amount of furniture. A comfortable violet couch sat upon one side and two very misfortunate chairs seated themselves across. In the back corner was a queen-sized bed - somehow she'd managed to win it in an auction, though guilt ate at her for she never used it. Other than various coffee tables and bed stands, the room was fairly blank and boring. Then again, compared to the other rooms, hers was rich.

"What to wear, what to wear," she murmured as she picked through what little clothing she had. Confident in her decision of attire, she trotted down the hallway and into the community shower. It was a rather scary place, broken down and dirty, but it was better than nothing. The one stall that had some sort of curtain appeared occupied, so the brunette was left to wash in the open. In any other situation this might have bothered her, but judging the lack of female agents, it wasn't as if more than one or two people would wand to peek in at her.

Ten minutes later, draped in only a black exercise bra and matching shorts, she retreated to her room. Once there she grabbed her usual top - a white tank with deeply cut arm holes - and wiggled her feet into a set of black running sneakers. She was busy towel drying her hair when there was a knock at the door and the sound of Nick's voice, faint and muffled. Pursing her lips, she teetered to the door and pulled it open.

"You're early," she said with a little frown. "You can come in but I'm not ready." Leaving the door open for him, Laney turned back to finish drying her hair. As soon as that task was completed, she worked at her sheaths, making sure they were hidden under her shorts.

"Look at that file, will you?" the brunette asked as she struggled with the buckle of one sheath. "I want to know what's inside."

"My room's boring," Nick said, as soon as he could see Laney's face. She allowed him inside and he immediately flung his body across her bed and through dark lashes, watched her finish drying her hair with a towel. Laney's room was secretly his favorite place. It didn't smell nasty like the other girls' rooms did. It was neat, tidy, and smelled sweet just like she did. She had pretty things that any agent would love to have. A purple couch, a coffee table, drawers...more than one lighting fixture. And even more, she had that bed--Which was more than he ever had after he had gotten adopted into the agency.

Smiling at her while her back was turned, he watched the brown hair toss while she fixed the buckles on her sheath and pulled her shorts over. It had been a funny thought to consider where the two of them would even stand if their flirting led to something more. She was already so close to him...she got dressed right in front of his face, allowed him into her bedroom whereas most girls didn't let him within six feet if they could manage it. If they ever did get into a relationship, Laney and he would just act slightly more married than they already did.

"Look at that file, will you?" the brunette asked as she struggled with the buckle of one sheath. "I want to know what's inside." His smile faded to something more serious as he swept the still-damp hair away from his face and squirmed into a sitting position. Taking the manilla folder from its place on a close table, he thumbed through photographs of Manuel Dodgins. He was...to politely say it, a "tax collector." Obvious, well-to-do Mortalis employee, very oily, very chubby. His job was to take cash from people to spread amongst the ten Mortalis leaders. The RTF and Mortalis were constantly clashing and this men was one of their three best.
Nick mumbled over the document, "So...where do you think he could be hiding...". It wasn't a question, it was a statement. The man looked like an idiot but to be that high ranking amongst the ten, well...he'd be much brighter than what he appeared. The ravenette pursed his lips, tapping coordinates described on the papers with his ring and middle fingers.

There were eyes once more on her back. Laney kept her back to Nick, unsure she wanted to face him when practically dressing in front of him. It wasn't odd for her to do such a thing - they'd been partners for quiet a while, after all. Maybe it was that she wasn't sure how she would react to see his eyes sweep over her form. To be completely honest, she wasn't exactly sure what their relationship was. Friends? Could be, however they often bickered and irritated each other. Couple? No no, even the thought of that made her cheeks flush with color. So... were they somewhere in between? She chewed her lip nervously. But wasn't the somewhere in between... friends with benefits? The blush on her cheeks took on a deeper shade of red. NO. DEFINITELY NOT. Though there was flirting, their physical contact was limited if non exsistant. They were just partners, then? Nothing more? Her heart felt painful at the thought, betraying her natural reaction and wishing they were more than partners.

The sound of Nick's voice pulled her from her thoughts. Of course he hadn't been talking to her, merely speaking his thought process for all to hear. Curious as to what the young man was attempting to figure out, Laney temporarily gave up on the sheath buckle and trotted across the room towards him. Her petite form barely bounced the bed as she sat snuggly beside him so to see the documents he was holding. The words "he's gross" came out before she could stop herself. But it was true. She hadn't expected that their target could be someone so... unkempt.

Her eyes darted from word to word, reading at an uncanny speed. "Hmmm.." the brunette murmured and wished a small map from her back pocket. Unfolding it and using her knowledge from the documents, she began to pinpoint different places on the map that seemed likely for the man to be staying. After tripple-checking her results, she leaned against Nick to hold his attention while also relishing the contact. "Two places he might be staying - here and here." She pointed to two spots on the map; one she circled with her fingertip as it was a subdivision and they didn't have his address while the other was a large business building she recalled to be in the center of New York City. "I can get a research team to find which house is his in the subdivision. In the mean time we could head out to the business building." Golden eyes flickered up to meet his, qustioning and awaiting an answer.

"He's gross."

The laugh slipped from his lips before he could stop it. "Hey, some women used to love the oiled look way back when." He wasn't sure if lots of girls considered that attractive back in the day but this guy definitely would appeal if it did. Laney leaned against his shoulder while she pointed out their two destinations. It was a simple brush, hardly anything to blink an eye at so the man relaxed, putting flirtatious urges aside and chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Alright, so we're probably expecting high crime rates around his home, but nothing too major. Any little subdivision usually is not that heavily guarded. Get the team on that." Tapping the position of the building on the map, he nodded. "This will be high-tech, though. It's in the heart of the city. Bigger crime, more security. We'll have to check this first but..." Sighing heavily, he shook his head. "I doubt we'll keep our secrecy after looking there. Unless we try to blend more."

Lifting an eyebrow, he tilted his head. It was hard these days to appear as innocent adults. You were either more crime-involved, or less crime-involved. But you were always crime-involved. Of course, he couldn't waltz around a building like that with his sword and gun and they'd just accept--oh! Guy with firearm! I bet he works at McDonalds! Yeah. That's safe.

"Do we leave ourselves unguarded or do we meld in with a side group...?" Granted, they had the physical training to protect themselves with hand-to-hand combat but it still made him uncomfortable to go in without his gun. "Or do we have an opportunity to actually meet this guy? Any events he has to attend?" Shuffling through the papers, the ravenette rested his chin on his hand. It would be so much easier to snap in and take the target out in one night like James Bond. Of course, life had never gotten that interesting yet. And Nicholas was not James Bond.

Laney considered his words carefully. It was true, they'd be in the heart of the city and that could pose a problem. Sending in a security team or raiding the building would cause trouble on more levels than one, and trouble was definitely not what they needed at that moment. But blending in, that could provide them with access to the man they were targetting. Her mind reeled as it recalled the information she'd read moments before. His business building was a tax center. Citizens in the city had to go monthly to pay their dues else men would storm their house for the money they hadn't payed. They could use that against their opponent, posing as regular civilians as a way to get closer to the boss.

"Events?" the brunette murmured with a small smirk. "Yeah, it says tomorrow night there will be an event for his employees and close, well, lady friends I guess." She chewed on her tongue in silence as she considered her choices. There was no chance of getting employed at this point, she guessed. Even if they did manage to get a job at his business, new employees probably weren't trusted enough to go to such an extravagent party. Then again, it appeared that the man didn't just hire anyone - his workers were the elite, rich. Aside from that, they couldn't just become friends with their target before tomorrow night.

"Why don't we go undercover?" Laney said, clearly bored. "It's only about noon, we still have several hours to get to know our target. Obviously going as employees isn't going to work. We're neither rich nor well-known." She paused as she leaned back on the bed, legs dangling off the edge and hands folded underneath her head as a pillow. "But what to do undercover as? If employees don't work, what other options do we have?" Her golden gaze flickered to Nick with a teasing glint. "We could always attend as prostitutes," she said, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"We could act like swanky guests. You would be more favorable to him than me, but we could swing it if we fake identification. Besides, anyone could have brought us." The idea of a party seemed fairly intriguing. And Nick had no problem blending in with the social elite. He had managed to do it before, after all. And well...big events leaded to plenty of distractions, but lots of witnesses. But Manuel Dodgins would be most open with his friends. His security would be distracted with other things such as who was stealing the crystal drinking glasses or why that man over in the corner was trying to conceal his silver spoon.

Nick never imagined Laney would actually accept his idea though. "We could always attend as prostitutes," she said while laying back, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. He flopped back beside her, file waving over his head as if holding it up to the light solved some big secret. "Thought you said that was a dirty profession," he teased, then smiled considering it. "But I don't really like to be naked around people I don't like. I do like the idea of you in a short skirt, though. I could be your pimp!"

He knew that was going to get turned down in a second. Fumbling through the folder, he looked through the set of pictures before they all tumbled into his face. "Wait staff maybe?" He suggested quickly before he got hit in the chest.

"Thought you said that was a dirty profession," Nick teased, then smiled considering it. "But I don't really like to be naked around people I don't like. I do like the idea of you in a short skirt, though. I could be your pimp!"

"Nope!" she said immediately. "If I was a prostitute I'd walk in butt naked-" she paused as she sat up and looked down at him "-but I'm not, so I won't. And you? A pimp? That's a good joke. You're all talk, Nick. I doubt you've ever even touched a girl." It was blunt, yes, but that was Laney. If you wanted to play, you better be ready to get dirty. She stretched then, reaching her arms towards the ceiling and yawning like a drowsy feline. Planning was never enjoyable. It was boring, truthfully - then again, that was why her partner often strategized plans. He seemed to have a talent for that.

Swallowing down giggles as he carelessly dropped the pictures atop him, she dropped har arms back to her lap and collected her thoughts. "Staff won't work," she replied slowly. "I've been to that building once before, now that I think about it. The security is tight and numerous. Half of the people inside the building itself are security members in disguise. They're all over the place. Pretending to be staff would be difficult."

Yet working as a staff member would be the easiest way to get close to their target. The problem was, after desposing of him, there would be security at them immediately. "I think if we go to the party, it should just be to gather information. I'm sure our guy has information on his Mortalis companions in the building, but actually getting close enough to get rid of him..." Laney paused, mind reeling. "Ugh, whatever. You figure it out." With that she plopped back to the bed and closed her eyes.

"Nope!" she said immediately. "If I was a prostitute I'd walk in butt naked-" she paused as she sat up and looked down at him while his expression changed surprisingly pale "-but I'm not, so I won't. And you? A pimp? That's a good joke. You're all talk, Nick. I doubt you've ever even touched a girl." That comment, on top of all the thoughts on strategy did it. She was about to get her ear talked off in one of Nick's more unique manners.

In one graceful motion, he had positioned himself on top of her, elbows on either side of her face so he could casually rest his head in his hands while still looking down at her expression. "First of all--I'm twenty-one. I've obviously touched a girl or I wouldn't have known how to do this so quickly, babe!" Grinning through his sing-song voice, he scrunched up his nose. He could play dirty too.

"Alright, well here's my basic train of thought." He said, tone suddenly cool, "You know what this guy looks like, right? You need to find your best dress and come in on some guy's arm. I'm sure there are losers that would love you as a last-minute date. I'll be close behind you and on a comms unit so don't worry. Get his name then ditch the loser as quickly as you can. I'll find Dodgins so all you have to do is follow my directions. Please, please try to be as sexual and...um...unintelligent-sounding as possible when you find him." The corner of his mouth came up as dark brows arched while leaning down closer to whisper through her hair. "I know you've got the first thing down, be careful with the second."

"Pump him for as much information as possible. Family, pets, employees, where he lives, what he does. If he asks why you're at his event, say you came with a lovely young man named...whoever you happened to pick. Say you got bored and wanted someone more alluring or financially attractive or something. Flirt. Make him feel good. Encourage the booze! If things go wrong, mention something about your lipstick and a nice, dark, handsome, green-eyed stranger..." Nick smiled nice and big as if to say 'Colored contacts are fun!', "...will come rescue you. Then we'll leave and go get real dinner and compare notes. Sound good?" Satisfied with his little move, he propped himself back up on his knees to watch her carefully with curious eyes.