Stained With You
(Author's Note at end)
"What the fuck is your problem?!"
"My problem? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"There's nothing wrong with me. You're just pissed I showed your arrogant ass up and saved your life."
Rachel Evans quickened her pace muttering, "Lord only knows why I did that. Should've let him shoot you." She glanced over her shoulder. "Maybe it would've brought you down a peg or two." Rachel tossed her head and continued down the long corridor to the imposing double doors. She paused before the wooden doors taking a deep, fortifying breath.
Devon Hunt was the most infuriating man she had ever met in her entire life. Mind you, she was aware that twenty-five did not mean a long life and she was probably going to meet hundreds more people in the rest of her life. But, right now Devon Hunt was at the top of the list.
How dare he yell at her! Understandably, the two never saw eye to eye, but she saved his sniveling life! Honestly, she should've let the bastard get shot. Saving him only kept him around longer, making him a bigger pain in the ass.
"Evans!" She heard footsteps following the shout. He paused behind her and bent him head, placing his mouth just above her ear. "Scared?"
The whisper tickled, forcing her to fight the ice cold shiver trickling down her spine. His sculpted chest (hey, she might dislike the guy, but she was willing to give credit where credit was due) pressed against her back. She felt each smooth pectoral, his toned six-pack abs narrowing to –
Rachel mentally slapped herself. She was not turned on by Devon Michael Hunt. She gritted her teeth. "Scared of what?"
"Oh, I don't know," he trailed his fingers up and down her arm, breathing into her hair, "the truth?" Was he flirting with her? Why in God's name would he be flirting with her?
Staring straight ahead, wishing the wall was Hunt's head and that she could burn things with her eyes, Rachel decided to humor him. "And what would be the truth?"
"That you – " A booming voice echoed behind the doors Rachel had yet to open, cut off whatever smart aleck comment he was about to make, simultaneously scaring the shit out of both of them. Hunt took two large steps back, putting at least three feet between them. But, Rachel, she simply hung her head in resignation muttering under her breath. She noticed her hand hovering above the doorknob and dropped it.
She didn't have to report in now. She could go home, shower, change, calm down a bit, then present her oral report. She narrowed her eyes. When Hunt wasn't around.
Rachel couldn't explain it. There was just something about him that always rubbed her the wrong way. She would admit his arrogance was not exaggerated in regards to his looks. Anyone would fall for his baby blue eyes that sparkled when he laughed (granted, most of the time her was laughing at her), jet black hair that always curled up at the nape of his neck, his chiseled features that happen to fall at the right angles.
"Evans! In my office! Now!" The voice reverberated throughout the hall once again shaking Rachel from her stupor. She didn't have to turn around to know there was an arrogant smirk playing on Hunt's lips. Taking the high road, she flipped him off and entered the office as quietly and gracefully as possible. But, gracefulness went out the window the second she was confronted by the seething figure of her Director.
"Evans," he said in deadly calm. "Have a seat." She obediently sat on one of the leather chairs in front of his desk keeping her eyes downcast. Director Jonathan Perry was head of their little subsection of the counterespionage division of the FBI (under counterintelligence).
The general mission of the FBI was "To protect and defend the United States against terrorist and foreign intelligence threats, to uphold and enforce the criminal laws of the United States, and to provide leadership and criminal justice services to federal, state, municipal, and international agencies and partners." It was drilled into every agent on their first day. But, honestly, if you didn't know it before orientation, why bother applying? Why become a FBI agent if you didn't know their mission?
Those working under Director Perry served to protect, discover and prevent – protect the people of the United States of America by uncovering foreign espionage circles on American soil, preventing possible threats to national security. They were chosen because of their records, recommendations and skills to which they excelled.
Rachel remembered how she felt when the thought of joining the FBI first crossed her mind. She never really had a vested interest in law enforcement. Not because she didn't believe the law shouldn't be enforced, but because for as long as Rachel could remember she was groomed in the art of Business. Her father, Charles Evans, was the founder and CEO of one the largest Pharmaceutical companies in the world.
In his mind, his little girl was perfect to take over after his retirement, although, when Rachel was born her father was far from the age of retirement. In fact, his company was still a fledgling. Nonetheless, that didn't stop him from having his dream. She would always accompany him to his office, work – or play, since she was six years old – alongside him, observing (trying to keep her eyes open?). At first, Rachel found the constant paperwork tedious, the nine-to-five work day boring, and the cause – while admirable – unappealing.
Nevertheless, Rachel grinned and bore it. She found it easier to accept her father's wishes than to fight him (to his face at least.) While her high school curriculum was comprised of the usual subjects, she was also given extra, business-oriented classes. She hated it! Not because she didn't want to learn about business, eventually it grew on her, no, but because the added workload prevented her from having any sort of social life. She didn't attend school dances, participate in normal activities, or even attend any sleepovers like the average high school girl. Instead, she went to class, returned home for additional business courses, had dinner with her mother and her nanny and then went to bed waiting for the cycle to restart the next morning.
When it came to her graduation and choosing which college she would attend, Rachel wanted a say in the decision. Naturally, daddy dearest won that argument too and Rachel found herself attending Stanford University – on the other side of the country – pursuing a degree in Business Administration. Eighteen year old Rachel Evans was packed up and shipped off, dropped in the middle of California and forced to fend for herself. And, boy did she learn a lot. Like, when not to –
"Evans!" Director Perry barked inches from her face. She could practically taste the Apple Pie he had for lunch. "Have you listened to a word I've said?"
Rachel rapidly blinked, quickly returning to the present. It wasn't like her to zone out in the middle of getting her ass chewed out by the boss. Well, if she did she at least half listened. "Um…" was her intelligent answer as she smiled up at him sheepishly.
"I'll take that as a 'no'." He said dryly leaning against his desk, crossing his extended legs at the ankles. He folded his arms across his expansive chest. "Explain yourself."
Rachel took another deep breath preparing herself for the worst. "I was in the process of leaving the hotel because the suspect didn't show. As I was exiting the elevator McCarthy (the suspect) entered the lobby…followed closely by Hunt." She glanced down at her hand folded in her lap, scowling at the memory. What the hell was Hunt even doing there? It was her case and he had no right to interfere.
She shook her head before continuing the report. "I didn't know what was going on and before I could contact one of the guys, McCarthy pulled his gun." The guys, as she called them, were her tactical support holed up in the ratty van behind the dumpster. They fed her the information she needed to successfully carry out the mission, from visual support to background information.
"Hunt, playing whatever role, had his hands in front of him making no attempt to draw a weapon." She looked up at the Director. "I couldn't let him get shot. As much as I hate him and we don't get along, I couldn't let McCarthy just shoot him." She shrugged. "So, I shot McCarthy as he was about to pull the trigger. He staggered forward falling lifelessly on top of Hunt, who at that point was searching for the shooter." Her lips quirked up sardonically. "When Hunt saw it was me he was so pissed."
"HUNT!" Director Perry suddenly bellowed causing Rachel to jump.
The doors abruptly swung open and an agitated Hunt entered. "Yes, sir?"
Hunt started at the Director evenly. "What am I explaining, sir?"
The Director arched a salt-and-pepper eyebrow.
"Uh, right," Hunt said rubbing the back of his neck. "I was investigating the case you put me on. Marvell? He was working with the Russians to gain intelligence. He said he had middle man and sent me to meet with him."
"Who was the middle man?" Director Perry asked.
"David McCarthy." Hunt replied without missing a beat.
"That's bullshit!" Rachel exclaimed.
Hunt, still standing, loomed over her with piercing blue eyes. "Are you calling me a liar, Evans?"
"I said that's bullshit, I didn't say anything about you or your lying tendencies."
"Is it so hard to believe you fucked up? It wouldn't be the first time."
"What's hard to believe is that you think you had – "
"Stop!" The Director interceded before their argument became bloody. Both agents immediately quieted. Rachel glared at a corner of the room and Devon backed off. Perry glared at him. "Sit."
Hunt languidly slid into the seat next to hers. Director Perry massaged him temples in a show of frustration, mumbling, "You two are either going to be the death of me or each other."
From the corner of her eye, Rachel could see Hunt grinning stupidly at the Director, while she remained solemn. Director Perry was an aging man, fast approaching retirement. He probably had a few good years left in him, but not much, and it saddened her. While her own father was off running his company, Director Perry had become the father she wished she had and she hated disappointing him. Yes, he was strict at times and yes, he did punish her. However, he was also a kind man when he wanted to be. He didn't show his compassionate side often, but when he did, it was greatly appreciated.
"Now, I want you," he pointed at Hunt, "to explain why you were in the lobby of that hotel. Beginning to end." He glanced pointedly at Rachel. "Without interruption."
Rachel remained quiet while Hunt retold the story of his infiltration of Marvell's group, how he worked his way up the ranks until he became a trusted confidant, was assigned the meeting with McCarthy and the subsequent fatal meeting.
Perry heaved a heavy sigh. "We need to wrap this case up. But, now I can't use you anymore." He said to Hunt.
"Why not?" Hunt questioned indignantly.
"Because you were supposed to meet their middle man who was shot by an undercover FBI agent in the lobby of the hotel."
"It doesn't matter." He waved his hand dismissively.
"How will you explain McCarthy being shot, but you surviving?" Perry shook his head and rounded the desk. He plopped down onto his swivel chair, spinning it to face the window. He stared at the clouds with the sun streaming through the windows onto his face, highlighting the wrinkles around his eyes and the frown gracing his lips. "We can't send you back in. They'll recognize you."
"No, they won't. I was in disguise."
At that, Rachel snorted. "Yeah, he was blonde, with a mustache and fuzzy beard."
Perry stared at her through the corner of his eye. "Then, how did you recognize him?"
"He glared at me." She said stifling a smirk. "I don't think he knew it was me, but unconsciously he did and ended up glaring at me." Her eyes remained focused on the corner of Perry's office. He had various paintings decorating the walls, mostly of nature, and a potted plant near the door. Other than those items, it was a sparsely decorated with case files lying haphazardly on the long boardroom table pushed against one wall and multiple computers hooked up to a bundle of wires along the other.
Hunt muttered, "I don't even have to recognize her to hate her. That's something…"
Rachel glared at him. "The feeling's mutual!"
Perry bounded out of his chair pounding his fists on his desk. "Would you two shut up!" Both their heads snapped in his direction. Perry seemed to be having some sort of attack. His cheeks were flushed and his breath came in short, angry bursts. "We are still a relatively new subsection and we don't need unwanted attention. Every time you two are in the same room, an argument is sure to ensue. It needs to stop! If you two can't work together you're going to have to leave." He inhaled sharply – in with the good air, out with the negative energy. "Now, you are both good agents and I would hate to lose either of you. But, you need to put the animosity aside and stop being little bitches about every little thing!"
Rachel was slightly affronted by the Director's uncharacteristic explosion. It was as if he was blaming her for all the problems between Hunt and herself. She truly tried to be nice to him, but it never worked. He would always say or do something asinine and Rachel couldn't seem to help herself, she always called him on it.
Perry cleared his throat. "Okay, we're done here." Both Rachel and Devon gazed at the Director with surprise. They expected an hour, minimum, of yelling, condemnations and threats, not a quick dismissal. Their questions must have been conveyed through their expressions because the Director continued. "We're done here for now. You two are by no means off the hook. If anything, you're in the deepest shit you've ever been in. I need to figure out what we're going to do and how we're going to fix this. So, run along," he said making shooing motions with his hands, "and I'll hold a staff meeting later in the day, filling everyone in on the situation."
He sat down and began fiddling with the papers on his desk signaling their dismissal. Rachel stood and made her way to the door, but paused as Director Perry once again spoke. "Play nice you two." A hint of amusement in his voice. It was only then did she notice how close Hunt was to her. She pulled the door open and entered the hallway, noticing for the first time the young blonde woman sitting behind.
Rachel smiled and walked over to the desk. "Hello there, Jenny." She was too caught up with her argument before to notice the secretary sitting behind her desk outside the Director's office. Rachel wanted to bang her head against a wall and had to suppress a groan as she realized Jenny must have seen and heard the whole ordeal.
"Hey, Rachel. How's everything going?" Rachel liked Director Perry's new secretary and not only because she was so friendly, but also because Rachel was the only woman currently working in this sector and having Jenny around made everything easier. It was a relief having a friend among all the testosterone.
"Everything's fine. Although you probably heard everything already…" Rachel trailed off scowling at the wall behind Jenny.
Jenny laughed. "Yeah, actually, I did." She glanced behind Rachel. Rachel was either too distracted to notice or chose not to acknowledge the secretary's wondering eyes. "What's up with you and Devon? How come you guys don't get along?"
"I don't know." Rachel shrugged and shot a side-glance at Jenny. "He's an arrogant jackass who thinks everything belongs to him and everyone should bow down to him. I don't and I guess that doesn't sit well with him."
"Oh, Rachel." Jenny placed a hand over her heart dramatically. "Why can't you ever just speak your mind? If you answer vaguely, how will anyone ever know how you truly think or what you really mean?" Then she collapsed onto her desk in a fit of giggles.
Rachel admired Jenny's carefree attitude. She was still in college experiencing life, but also managed to land a job with the FBI. It was impressive to say the least and Rachel could see the girl had potential and a bright future.
Jenny sat up straight fixing her white blouse and black pencil skirt. However, she looked to be fighting another serious fit of giggles, but Rachel failed to see the humor. Neither had said anything for a few minutes. "Jenny, are you okay? Why do you look lik – "
Someone approached Rachel from behind and deftly removed the clip holding her dark brown hair up causing the locks to cascade down her back. "Is that what you really think of me, Evans?" Hunt pressed his lips to her hair, snaking an arm around her waist firmly trapping her between his chest and Jenny's desk.
"Jenny! You traitor!" Rachel exclaimed glaring at her.
"I couldn't help it!" Jenny said wiping away a tear. "You two would make such a cute couple!"
"What? No, we wouldn't! I just finished telling you exactly what I thought of him. And you know we don't get along."
"Whatever. All that fighting is probably just foreplay for you guys. Pent-up passion can be explosive if it isn't released on a regular basis." Jenny eyed the two who had yet to separate and Devon's hand absently tracing circles on Rachel's stomach. "We, who work at the FBI, wouldn't want to cause any explosions now, would we? That would be very, very bad. So, I say you guys should grab your stuff, check into a hotel and let loose." Rachel and Devon gaped slack jawed at the girl innocently twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
A smug smile appeared on Rachel's face. "I'll do that when you admit there's something going on between you and Cam." Rachel silently laughed as Jenny's color increased dramatically.
Flustered, Jenny attempted to defend herself. "Cam? As in Cameron Brooks? That pretentious know it all? Why would there be anything going on between us?" Jenny fiddled with her coffee mug, the multicolored pens, the case files – anything to keep her hands busy.
Rachel knew there wasn't anything going on between the two, but it was fun to tease her nonetheless because there could be something between them.
Cameron was always around whenever Jenny was, he flirted with her, helped her with her work. He did basically anything that kept him around her. And it wasn't a one-sided relationship. Jenny did her fair share of hair tossing, eye batting and secretive glances. They would make a cute couple. Jenny's strawberry blonde hair, ice blue eyes and five-foot- three frame, next to Cameron's sandy blonde hair, dark green eyes, six-foot-one body. Jenny had the innocent, girl next door look going for her, while Cameron had the arrogant, but nerdy look going for him. LOTS of potential there.
Cameron could be a 'pretentious know it all' at times, but he was useful. The other agents had their specialties – weapons, language, computers – Cameron however, hadn't found his place yet. He was still searching. For now, he was the team's source for random and often times, useless, information.
Rachel watched as Jenny got redder and redder.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Robert Cox approached glancing between the three. "Is little Jenny embarrassed?" He fingered a strand of her hair tugging on it. Robert leaned over the back of Jenny's chair reaching for a pen, simultaneously brushing a kiss on her cheek. Jenny turned a bright crimson.
Rachel felt bad for the girl. It was one thing if she teased Jenny, no harm done. But, with Robert, there was always the potential of getting your heart broken.
"Robert, leave her alone."
"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?"
"Noooooo. But, what I do see is how cozy you and Hunt are getting."
"What?" Robert glanced pointedly at Rachel's waist. She followed his eyes and was surprised to find Hunt's arm wrapped securely around her. She was even more surprised that she didn't notice and at the safety she felt.
She scowled. Safety and Hunt don't go together. He was as much a heart breaker as Robert – not that Rachel would fall for him – but that was beside the point. The point was Devon Hunt was touching her and still had not released her.
"Wait…" She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Why are you still touching me? Why are you still here?" Her eyes widened because it a touch of color appeared on his cheeks. Was Devon blushing? Just as she was about to voice her question he pulled away with a coughing fit.
"I, uh," he coughed, "Nothing, babe, just havin' a little fun." He winked at her. "At your expense of course."
She arched a brow. "Babe?"
"Yeah right, nothing." Robert interjected.
Jenny giggled behind her hand.
Devon walked off nonchalantly waving a hand over his head. "Catch ya later."
Rachel ignored him and spent the next hour talking to Jenny while they both fended off Robert's advances. And boy was he persistent. Since she first arrived, Robert had been flirting with her and when Jenny arrived, it temporarily assuaged his pursuit. She knew there was no substance behind his words only because that's his personality. He had light brown hair and brown eyes. And of course, being the linguistics specialist that he was, his mouth was the most attractive of his features. Shiny, white teeth framed by thin lips. When he spoke the eyes were automatically drawn to them…they were so….nice.
Rachel glanced down at her watch then up at the duo. "Guys, it's twelve. I think I'm going to lunch." Robert braced on the desk facing Jenny with one hand running through her hair. "Um, do you guys want to come?" Neither responded. Robert continued stroking Jenny's hair while she blushed profusely, giggling like a high school bimbo.
Rachel sighed. Shaking her head she left the two to their own devices and walked to her desk. She grabbed her handbag and her jacket. Heading towards the exit she fished through her purse for her cell phone. She rounded a corner and slammed into a body sending her purse flying emptying its contents around them.
"Owwww." She rubbed her head.
"Oh, I'm so, so, so sorry!!" Rachel glanced up seeing Kyle sitting on the floor in front of her.
"Hey, Kyle." She laughed. "It's okay. I wasn't paying attention, I didn't see you." Kyle pushed his rectangular glasses up his nose. Kyle was kind of a nerdy person constantly tangled in some piece of technology or the other. She glanced around them and saw his PDA by her foot and her cell phone by his elbow.
"Hi, Rachel. I, uh, sorry. I wasn't looking and I d-didn't – "
She cut him off. "It's okay, Kyle."
"No, no, I'll make it up to you. I-I – " Rachel saw the conversation going nowhere fast.
"Okay, Kyle. How about you help me up and we'll call it even?" He looked at her with big dark brown eyes and scratched the back of his head disturbing his perfectly parted black hair.
"Uh, s-sure." He extended an arm to help her. But, Kyle was still on the floor and pulling Rachel up proved to be difficult. They collapsed in another heap.
"Kyle…" He grinned at her sheepishly.
"Uh, sorry about that." Rachel rubbed her temples. Enough was enough.
"Kyle! Stop apologizing!" She snapped drawing the attention of several agents. Parker, resident weapons expert, was the first to approach.
"Rach, why are you trying to rape Kyle?" He grinned down at them. "I mean, I know he's never been laid, but maybe you two should get a room." He tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "Although, from what I heard, you and Hunt are getting cozy. He might not like this little scene."
Rachel glared at him. "Ha, ha Parker. You're so funny!" She rolled her eyes pushing away from Kyle. "Are you going to help me up or not?"
He extended a muscular arm, easily pulling her up. She tripped over Kyle's foot and stumbled into Parker's chest. She felt a rumble emanating deep within him. "Hun, I know I'm hot, but like I said, Devon wouldn't appreciate this little scene."
"I don't give a fuck what Hunt appreciates or doesn't appreciate! And no I don't want you!" She shoved off him and her back slammed into a bony chest. She turned around to find Kyle staring at her curiously.
He was like a lost kid, with his big, innocent eyes, black glasses, neatly combed hair and lanky body. Rachel knew the other guys liked to mess with Kyle and he hated them for it. Kyle preferred his privacy, hating when people invaded his space and touched his things. Kyle's office was full of gadgets, computers, phones, wires, all kinds of devices useful in their missions. Oddly enough, Rachel was the only one Kyle opened up to.
Patrick, oldest of their little group, walked past Rachel trapped between Parker and Kyle. Shooting her a disapproving glance he said, "Evans, now is not the time, nor is it the place."
"But, Patrick! It wasn't me! Parker's being an ass." Parker didn't seem the least bit perturbed by her assessment.
"Parker's always an ass." Patrick returned. "You should know better."
"Yeah, well, what about Kyle?" She waved an arm in Kyle's direction.
"Kyle's…" He trailed off after seeing Kyle's forlorn expression. Patrick shook his head like a disappointed father and kept walking; pretending not to witness the exchange.
Then, there was a sudden onslaught of beeping throughout the room as seven agents received text message alerts, informing them that there would be an impromptu staff meeting in the boardroom in two minutes. Rachel's cell phone was still on the floor, along with her other belongings, but she saw the message on Parker's as well as Kyle's phones.
"Okay, everyone settle down. We're all here because Evans and Hunt fucked up." Rachel and Devon shot the Director affronted glares, but managed to keep their mouths shut. He cleared his throat and continued when the chatter subsided. "Here's the situation. Rachel was working with David McCarthy, a known terrorist, in order to ascertain enough evidence to arrest him. We know he's a terrorist, he knows he's a terrorist, but we can't prove it."
Perry paced back and forth in front of seven of his best agents running a hand through his graying hair. "Devon infiltrated Martin Marvell's circle, an influential businessman living in America trading vital information with known terrorists. We needed evidence on him too. Then that went out the window when Devon met McCarthy in the hotel lobby and Rachel shot McCarthy." Perry said the last sentence in a rush and had to pause to allow the information to sink in.
Rachel and Devon purposely sat at opposite ends of the table, each watching the reactions of their fellow agents and friends. Cameron stared off into space, Kyle was playing with his PDA (probably trying o rewire it), Robert who was sitting to the left of Rachel kept running his hand up her thigh, Parker had his feet propped up on the table and Patrick had his notebook in front of him, studiously taking notes. None of them seemed surprised by the Director's announcement. Rachel risked a glance at Hunt. He leaned back in his chair with fingers interlocked behind his neck and a smug grin spread over his lips.
Rachel wanted to lunge down there and strangle him! The potential fallout from this situation was immense and all he could do was grin? She clenched her fists under the table.
"There is only one way to settle this." Rachel looked at him and saw a mix of trepidation and humor in his eyes.
"Which would be…." She prompted.
Perry avoided her eyes, staring down the length of the table at no one in particular. "Evans and Hunt will go undercover together as a married couple to ferret out the leader of the ring, collect the evidence – "
Okay, so this story is definitely out of my element, but I thought I'd try it. The idea came to me (on the train of all places) and I decided to run with it. It's just something for fun, not serious. In all honesty, I don't know where the plot is going to go – haven't planned anything out. But! If you guys like…we'll see what happens. I'm still working on Willful Wisdom, but I'm a little stuck on it, so this is kind of like a free writing, help me unblock writer's block exercise :) It's a fairly long chapter, enjoy! I think I introduced all the characters: Rachel, Devon, Jenny, Cameron, Robert, Kyle, Parker, Partick, and The Director? Yeah, I think that's all of them. Anyways, I'm off to bed now, class tomorrow :) So… everyone enjoys! If you have an opinions, suggestions or criticisms definitely feel free to leave a review or private message me!!!
A couple of things:
-Never been to California in my life.
-The FBI Mission Statement comes directly from their website.
-Director Perry, Rachel, Devon and all the other agents are all fictional and are in no way associated with the FBI. I don't actually know anything about the FBI other than what we see on T.V. so…if something's wrong…tell me and I'll try to fix it, but don't kill me.