AN: This might be a bit long... oh well. Just FYI, this isn't an intense action story. I kinda like happiness. I mean, there's some, and there will be more later, but if you were expecting chapters upon chapters one after another of pure heart-stopping tearful jaw-dropping action - this isn't the place. Just saying. But then again, maybe you will like my writing. Review your opinions, and give me a bit of background, please!
"Tessy, Tessy, Tessy. Am I really not good enough for you?" Zach whispered, his hot breath in my ear, voice dropping an octave. He started kissing my neck, walking slowly backwards, towards the armchair.
"I have absolutely no idea where in the world you came up with that outrageous idea," I replied, working really hard to keep my breath even.
"Hm, really? Not even a clue?" he said huskily - now switching to open-mouth kisses.
I didn't answer for a second. "Maybe a few?" I said, my breath starting to speed up.
"Do enlighten me," he continued. He reached the chair, falling back onto it, successfully pulling me into his lap, arms starting to tighten around me. Fuck. Trapped.
Yeah, seduction. What can I say? It's one of my strong points. Not to mention, about a year ago, we fell into a habit. A game, really; one of seduction. Tess and I were currently tied. Besides, Tessy tasted so good…
Not meant to offend any girls out there reading this. But hey - I'm a guy. Can't blame me for hormones. Especially when I have a very beautiful girl in my lap, who teased the hell out of me, and whom I returned the same treatment to. Yeah… go ahead and blame me.
"Me in your lap never ends well," Tess answered.
"Ever? I think they end well," I said back.
"Hm. 'Well' he says," Tess replied shakily, probably remembering all the other incidents in which I had successfully lured her into my lap. I scraped my teeth gently across her skin, causing her to suck in a breath.
"My God. Get. A. Room," Vikki groaned.
I chuckled, and stopped my torture on Tess. She relaxed her stiffened form, and leaned backwards into me. I kept my arms around her waist, stroking her arm.
I retorted, "If you two can do it, so can we. That's PDA, I mean."
"Okay," Nick said loudly, hanging up his cell, "Changing topics. We have a full evening ahead of us with nothing planned to do. Quite frankly, it's kind of sad how we can't think up of anything."
"Monopoly?" Tessa suggested.
Vikki shook her head. "Someway, somehow, we all end up screaming and flipping the board over."
"Video games?" said Nick.
Tess shook her head, "Nein."
"Well," I said sarcastically, "We always could sit around and play cards."
"I'd say TV. Or another movie," Tess said, her head on my shoulder. I leaned down, and kissed her cheek. Her bright smile, and the way her eyes sparkled lit up my entire world.
We did what Tess suggested. The pizza arrived, and the four of us were scattered around the room in front of the TV. The four agreed on Burn Notice reruns; which we had already started long ago. Currently, we were now halfway through season four. The night ticked by, Vikki ended up snuggling against Nick, and Tess was laying down, her head in my lap. Explosions and gunfire went off on television, but it could have been soft Mozart, for all I knew.
What I did pay attention to was Tessy's hair. Other than the streaks towards the front, the rest of her hair was natural; no dyes needed to get the jet black that so many other girls envied. I twirled it in-between my fingers, completely entranced. It had such a smooth texture, like silk. Tess changed shampoos every so often for a variety of smells: now, it smelled of strawberries. It was so much more intoxicating than the lone fruit she teased me with, earlier today. The strands differed in length, some long, others short layered on top. I kept twirling the single block of hair, watching it loop around my fingers…
Tess giggled softly. "It's just hair," she whispered, "You look like you're contemplating the meaning of life, the look of focus on your face. Just hair."
"It's perfect. You're perfect," I whispered back, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Aw, you're so sweet. But you can drop the sweet talk. You already have me," she said, intertwining our hands, staring into my eyes.
"Sweet talk? I speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"Sure, sure." Tess laughed softly.
I sighed. I shifted Tess around, so I could lie down on the couch, Tessa on top of me.
I brushed the hair out of her eyes, trying to tuck it behind her ear. It just fell - sexily, I might add - back in front of her eyes. Tessa laughed softly.
"It's a style. It's made to do that," she elaborated.
"But I wanna see your eyes," I whispered up at her, in what I hoped was a sultry voice. Basing off of Tessy's shiver, I'd say it was a success. "Your pretty, big, blue eyes."
She stared back at me, through her choppy bangs that were just long enough to cover her eyes.
"Guess we can't get the best of everything, then, can we?" she said back, now mimicking my sultry tone. Her hands, before entwined with mine, now became restraints, pressing mine into the couch. She may not look like it, but she was strong.
"Tessa," I said, trying to make my tone firm. I didn't manage - not by a long shot.
"Mmmh?" she asked, sounding all innocent, while her lips kissed their way down my jaw line. "Something wrong?" She started down my neck, her tongue swirling a circle at my collarbone.
Then - the doorbell rang.
Tessa sighed, relaxing her hold on me, and dropping her head onto my shoulder. "I just cannot catch a break," she sighed.
Vikki said sleepily, "Who the heck is ringing our fucking doorbell this late? Who the hell even knows we have a doorbell? This place is supposed to be secretive, God dammit. Middle of the forest? Only one damn road? Like what, did you people get lost?" her voice seemingly getting more pissed off towards the end.
"I'll get it," Nick said, kissing Vikki's cheek.
"I'll come with," I said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. I got up gently, making sure Tessa wasn't jostled too much, and laid her back down on the couch. Tess narrowed her eyes at me.
"You're not getting away with this," she said calmly, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest.
"Don't I know it," I muttered quietly to myself, before catching Nick at the stairs.
"So," Nick started, a crazy smile on his face. "You and Tess, eh?"
I smiled, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. He laughed, shoving me back.
"You know, as much as Vikki and I tease you guys, it's nice to see you two get rid of some of the sexual tension," he continued, climbing down the stairs. "Well, not really. The tension's still there. Like seriously, do you guys like being a tease? You take cold showers every night? Time to steal another base, bro. Or at least, hit the damn ball."
I stayed silent. A kaleidoscope of memories flew through my mind. Blissfully happy… or, technically, passionately hot, scenes of Tess and I pressed together [pants on, you dirty minded freaks], with some connection of the lip to skin. Or hand to skin [again, pants on].
Nick noticed my silence. "You didn't. Gosh, is there anything you two haven't done in the past year and a half?"
"We're still virgins, if that's what you're asking."
"Not what I was asking," he immediately replied. "Seriously, I can almost taste the sexually charged air. How do you stand it?"
"Cold showers," I paused, "Many cold showers."
Nick smirked. "Base?"
I stared. "You're joking," I said, exasperated. That was just a tad personal. Just a tad.
I shook my head. "So, you and Vikki."
"I shouldn't have said anything," Nick sighed. We reached the front door.
Taking one look at each other, we - wait for it…
Looked through the peephole. Yep. Uh huh. Cause we're macho that way.
"Package," I said. There was a wooden box on the front doorstep. Sadly, it was crushing our welcome mat, one we put as an inside joke.
"LIke, package, as in, bomb package?"
"You know a bomb that's the size of a refrigerator box? And I'm not talking mini here."
Nick paused. "Big bomb? Dynamite set to explode?"
"You're funny," I said, looking back through the peephole.
I started unlocking the door. "US government package stamp. Handle With Care on the side, not to mention a thick black 'firearms' stamp on the side of the box."
"Since when do they make deliveries?" he asked, staring at the huge box once I had yanked the door open.
"Since we needed it on short notice?" I answered his question with one of my own.
Together, we lugged the box in. It was quite heavy. Might've been all the guns Tessa had ordered. Plus the knives. And possible bombs.
"We should call the girls down," I said, once we had successfully lugged the crate-like box in.
"I'll get a crowbar," Nick added, analyzing the tightness that the top was put on, and jogging towards the kitchen to get one. Don't ask about the kitchen part. I saw little runoff streaks of dried glue, most likely from a glue gun.
"Better make it a saw," I yelled after Nick. He swiftly changed course, from going towards the kitchen, to the basement.
I walked towards the stairs. "Tessa? Vikki? Package of government issued weapons just arrived."
"Whoo!" Tess's yell echoed down the stairs. Vikki's carefree laugh came after it. Sounds of stumbling and tripping followed, as the two probably tripped over one another in their excitement to get down. They came quickly down the stairs, taking them by three.
Tess held a portable torch in her hands.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed. "What's with the torch?"
Tess slightly scrunched her eyebrows. "Hmm, good point." She then proceeded to toss it on a nearby sofa. Walking up to me, she shoved her hand into my jean pocket, digging around.
I felt my eyes widen. Nick walked back in, freezing at the sight.
"Well, this escalated quickly," I muttered, as Tess, not finding what she was looking for, started feeling inside my leather jacket's pockets.
"Don't flatter yourself," she said smirking, pulling out a lighter.
And no, I don't smoke. Lighters are kept on my person for lighting up bombs or highly flammable material only.
"You could've just asked for it," I said, poking her side, tazing her in a way that only I can manage. She jumped, letting out a mini-shriek, as the sensation tickled her - a lot. "Or was that just an excuse to feel me up?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Me to know and you to find out," she said, smirking, before kneeling in front of the box.
Nick had walked to us, saw in hand.
"Hey," he said cautiously, "Just what are you doing?"
"Can you get me a cup of water?" she asked, examining the seal. Nick turned to grab one from the kitchen, placing the saw on the floor.
"Text; from the board," Vikki said, holding up her cell. "They explained how to open it when you guys were lugging it in. Very briefly, I might add."
Nick handed Tess the cup, filled to the brim with water. She took it, and using a towel she suddenly produced, thoroughly soaked it. Placing the cup aside, she wiped down the seal, excess water dripping down. She picked up the lighter, flicked it on, and held the open flame to the seal. That thin seemingly glued line, and only that line, lit up on fire, despite the water. Hell, the water probably caused some chemical reaction resulting in it lighting up. Quickly, it flashed all around the crate, burning out when it went all around the perimeter. It had melted whatever held the lid in place away. Using her fingers, and possibly nails, Tess pried the lid off. Inside, was all the weapons we ordered. Plus one extra thing.
Tess gingerly picked up the key ring, hooking her index finger through it, and lifting it up.
We all stared at the lone key attached.
Tess then tossed it to me, and I easily caught it in my hands.
"Your car arrived."
The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. The sun shone through the window. Did I mention that said window-wall from earlier made up the entire west section of the house? And, last night, I forgot to pull the curtains close. Meaning I woke up with a face full of sun, and a head full of pain. I groaned, and rolled over, pulling one of my many pillows over my head, trying to block it out. My head pounded, and I could feel the pulsing of my blood, each pulse shamelessly delivering more pain. It started to fade, as I kept myself engulfed in the dark. Just one teeny problem.
I couldn't fucking breathe.
I sat up, taking in deep breaths to rid my lungs of the carbon dioxide that gathered from breathing in and out of my pillow. My head hurt even more, from my sudden movement.
I groaned again, and fell back onto my bed.
Last night, the four of us decided to wait until morning to sort all the shit out. So, I decided to crash early to catch up on my sleep. Might've looked like I had enough sleep from the day before, but really, it was the coffee that dragged me out of bed. And the chance to annoy Zach. Stretching, I felt my muscles pull, and relax. My blood flowed just a bit more faster, waking me. My eyes adjusted to the bright light, and my headache slowly faded. Thank God for that.
"Background checks." Zach said, more, elaborated.
The four of us brought our breakfast with us, to the second floor. While we love that place to hang out, it was a nice place to work. Push away the beanbags and easily movable seats and chairs, the entire center of the room, which took up the whole floor, was clear. Our coffee table was one of those expanding round tables. Normally, we just used it as a coffee table. However, Vikki saw this circling social media, and showed me the GIF. It was made seemingly of eight pie-shaped pieces, that had layers underneath. By turning it, you could it get to open up, to some really big size. Turn it the other way, it just becomes a mini-coffee table again. We both fell in love. Made originally from Ghostwood, we bought one, high quality wood. Yeah, it was a tad bit pricey. Which brings us to another topic - how the heck we pay for all of this. Easy. We don't. The four of us are risking our fucking lives, bringing down people/gangs/dealers/killers/etc from across the nation. We take punches, bruises, shots, cuts, explosions, burns, and all that good stuff. That top secret branch of government foots the bill on our expenses.
No, we don't do this for the money. We love living the way we do. Course, we're some of the best the government unknowingly has. We live for our jobs. Everything and anything else is just a bonus. Bunny trail…
Currently, the four of us were seated around the table- now expanded. We were each situated in front of our own laptops. We sat in modern swivel chairs, the ones with wheels for easy mobility.
Handing us each a copy of the document the gov delivered, Zach continued, completely serious. "We need to find out who the hell these people are. The top four are highlighted. We need to find out everything about them. That includes backgrounds, credit accounts, history, family. They went to Queenstown, New Zealand, last year for Christmas? We need to know. They have a weird addiction for bubblegum? We need to know," Zach said, pacing in front of our group.
Zach was the planner. The strategizer. He could come up with scenes and plans like no one else could. You could give him three random things, like a rubber duck, jello, and some wire, and he'd find a way to take someone down with it. Give him a city, and he could give you a plan to poison the water supply, and get away with it, assuming you do it right.
Nick was our firearm specialist. Or more, weapon specialist. He could design guns, bombs, anything, really. Nick could identify any firearm or bomb like a seventh grade nerd knew his times tables. He kept up with the weapons across the world, too. Different weapons, the gun trade, all of it.
Vikki was a hardcore manipulator. She could manipulate [read: seduce] practically anyone to see her way. Hardcore? A kidnapper could be holding a knife to her neck, threaten to kill her by cutting off parts one by one, and she'd be laughing in his face, giving advice on how to clean her blood off his shoes, and which cleaning products to do it. And she was right up there with mixing fashion and design with techniques of anything spy-related. For instance, she somehow combined boron carbide with cloth into one of those scarves that are just one large piece of fabric folded and bunched up. That scarf can now be used as bullet proof blockage, when opened to its full length. Or, if you want, you could easily choke someone with it.
Me? Ehh. I'm with the little things that the other three can't do. Technological stuff. Computer hacking, rewiring, bugs, you get my drift. I'm a gun, bomb and car fanatic. Nick does the whole making part, designing part. I'm the girl who fucking enjoys shooting the gun with perfect aim, who makes the bomb go off - after tinkering with it so that there's just a little bit more of a bang. Zach can strategize to get something, to do something. I do the escapes, the undercover stuff. The making us disappear from thin air. The messing with government files and reporters and pictures and security cameras, so that we don't exist. Not to mention that my fighting [read: torture] skills are just a tad bit better than theirs. I may or may not know ways to get a man on his knees in pain, begging for you to stop. And only one ninth of them require his, ah, nuts. Most can be used on women too. Sadly.
And all of us could fight like a pro, obviously. Plus we're trained in the art of being an escape artist. We're spies. Duh.
"Comprende?" Zach asked, tone now a bit less serious.
"Yes, Father," Vikki said sarcastically.
Nick and I tried to hide our laughter, as Zach narrowed his eyes at her. Cracking a smile in the end, he gave a small chuckle.
And so, we began our search. First things first - I pulled up the USA government site, and maneuvered my way to the sign in page. Then I began hacking it. Fifteen seconds later, I pulled up the security database.
That's what went on for the next two hours. The four of us Googled, Facebooked, researched, and did basic hacking. By the end, we had a total of 113 pages, on life facts alone. Things like credit card account numbers, addresses, flights they took, crimes committed, family they have, hell, even what they ate for lunch for the past two weeks. All down to the tiniest detail.
Scribbling down the account numbers, and bank location onto a separate sheet of paper, with names labeled, Zach handed me the paper.
He then asked, "Can you hack these?" Nick and Vikki looked on with rigorous attention.
I scanned through it.
"Yeah," I said slowly, nodding. "There's enough info to do it quickly." Hell, I could've done it with their names only. But that would've taken a while. A long while, that we didn't want to spend.
Cracking my knuckles, I placed my fingers on my keyboard. Now, I won't explain in detail how to do this [the last thing I need is you people hacking credit accounts around the world], even though it's all over the internet. But really, getting through online to control and manage money is just a tad harder. Especially if you're planning on monitoring and/or using the account for a long period of time, without ever being noticed, much less getting caught. With my rapid, precise typing, I had the accounts hacked in less than ten minutes.
"Average 2 minutes and 13 seconds for each account. That's a new record," Vikki said, holding up a stopwatch.
I laughed. "Here it is, then, ladies and gentlemen," I said, sliding my chair over so they could have a better view, "The online bank accounts of the top four evil drug warlords in the present day US."
AN: Well, guess Tessa is quite the hacker. Review your opinions, I love hearing them. Seriously. Can't be all that hard to click a mouse button, and type a few words, a phrase, a sentence, can it? Takes under a minute, and you'll make my day! :D