The door slammed heavily behind him, thrown with an amount of force that only came from rage. Ollie stomped in, wrestling his messenger bag off of his shoulders, paying no mind to the open hole he'd ripped in the corner last time he'd been so annoyed. He swung it at the coffee table as he stormed into the kitchen, but missed and smacked the material against the wall. He threw himself down into a seat at the breakfast bar, facing Andy who was standing quietly by the fridge, a spoon of yoghurt halfway to her mouth. She watched him gently, measuring his wrath before speaking. She tipped the spoon to him.

"Yoghurt?" she offered.

He glared at her, lip pumped up. "Yes please," he grumbled.

She set hers down and reached back into the fridge, picking up a cup and tossing it to him. She went to the cutlery drawer, but he told her not to bother and simply licked at it.

"One each?" he queried.

"Payday today," answered Andy, pumping her hands in the air like she just didn't care. "I thought I'd splurge."

"Fair," said Ollie curtly, tipping the cup back so he could drink it instead.

There was a pause for a moment as they both waited for the other to say something. The fridge was making some kind of growling noise, but they ignored it. It was still better than last week when it seemed to be chanting in a demonic language, which turned out to just be a small hobgoblin. Andy swallowed audibly, before mindlessly swirling her spoon around.

"What's wr-"

"OK!" banged Ollie, apparently more than ready to start talking. "So, I had detention today for NO GOOD REASON-"

"Didn't you punch Tom Kinney in the face?" interrupted Andy, brows furrowed.

"That little shit had it coming," glowered Ollie.

"Perhaps, but did it have to come in front of a teacher?" asked Andy.

"You wanna hear my story?"

"I'm sorry, go on."

Ollie rolled his shoulders around, getting back into his rant mode. "So, I got detention, which I didn't have to show up for, but I did anyway. So I showed up at 3."

"You get another detention if you're late, don't you?" wondered Andy.

"Yes, but I wasn't late, I was more than on time!" answered Ollie. "The teacher however, was late!"

"Oh dear." Andy rolled her lips together, prepared for what Ollie was about to say.

"So, I waited there for AN HOUR for this stupid, bald twat, thinking 'Is detention not today?', 'was it earlier than I thought?', 'is this the right room?'," continued Ollie. "But I keep checking my detention card: 13th June, 3 o'clock, Room Ch4, 1 hour. So I think to myself 'if I just stay here for an hour, I'll have served the detention and it won't be a problem. I'll just stay right here'. So, that's what I do. At 4 o'clock, Mr Suck-A-Dick Roberts comes in and I tell him that it's been an hour. You know what he says? You know what this cock-sucker says to me?"

"It's got to be bad, cock-suckers are the worst," commented Andy. "Glad neither of us are one of them."

"He says 'Sorry I'm late, you can start your detention when we go in," announced Ollie, eyes wide and furious, waiting for ratification.

"Well, that is ridiculous," said Andy, nodding slowly.

"That's not the end of it!" exclaimed Ollie. "I then explained to him that I've been stood there for an hour and that I should get to leave, but he says to me 'the detention doesn't count unless supervised by a teacher'."

"Really?" asked Andy, face distorting more in confusion than thought.

"Yeah! And I told him that that's ridiculous if I've been sat there for an hour, and I was about to walk off," continued Ollie. "But he shouted after me that if I didn't do that detention, he'd give me isolation for the whole of tomorrow!"

Andy was standing now, arms folded over black T-shirt and her face scowling from what she'd heard. She began pacing the length of the kitchen, muttering about how 'that can't be right' and how Ollie had been treated was 'entirely unfair'.

"So, obviously I did the bloody detention with him, and because of him I couldn't catch the bus I wanted, which means that I had to wait another half an hour for the next one that comes here!" his face had rediscovered its thunder as he went on. "Who the hell does that?"

"No, that's actually outrageous," said Andy. "I'm going to talk to Mr Warth tomorrow."

"Whoa," said Ollie, his more reasonable nature swiftly returning at the mention of the headmaster. "I know Roberts was out of line, but you don't need to do that for me."

"No, I do!" argued Andy. "There's no way he can be allowed to do that! I'm going to go see him first thing in the morning and sort this out! I know I can't undo your detention, but he's not getting away with this."

Ollie sighed over-affectionately. "Did I ever tell you you're pretty when you're protective?"

"Eat your yoghurt," she replied.

They reclined in their various positions, trying to make the food last as long as possible. If they were tactical about it, they might be able to stretch it out long enough that it'd be too late for dinner. They tried not to think about how depressing such a thought process was. They heard the scuffle of many feet outside their door; what with the walls being so thin, they heard anything and everything that happened throughout the building. They wanted to ignore the sound, but they persisted, as if it was more than one set.

The door smashed open and a legion of black body-armour rushed through the flat; helmets and masks covered everything but eyes and uniforms of plastic that could stop bullets created a semi-circle around them. There was an empty space in the middle of the circle, which was quickly occupied by a man in a sharp, black and white suit. His hair was cropped into a professional quiff from the 1950s. Andy and Ollie stared at the men that had abruptly appeared, making sure to watch for when the suit started to talk.

"Andrea and Oliver?" inquired the suit, though he sounded like he was already certain.

"What would you do if we said no?" asked Ollie bluntly.

"You two have been called in for a mission," announced the man, ignoring Ollie's question. "I'm Agent Arthur. Please be escorted outside."

Ollie's face fell disdainfully. "Really? We're going out? Literally just after I get home?"

"It is of the utmost important that you comply," said Agent Arthur.

"Oh sure!" complained Ollie, making dramatic gestures as he stood up. "Now it's the utmost important, but two hours ago the world was at peace, all nuclear weapons had been disarmed and the capital of the world was fucking Switzerland!"

Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be guided alongside Andy through the building and outside into a black, luxury vehicle. They were told they'd be heading to the headquarters for an organisation called ReCoY: Reformed Criminals of Youth. The organisation took young offenders whose crimes demonstrated considerable talent and trained them up to be specialised and deadly agents. However, for this mission, they required two members who didn't exist in their official database; the organisation had been hacked by an unknown party. Both Andy and Ollie had been listed for potential recruitment but for one reason or another, neither had ever been picked up. Until now.

"The fuck do you mean your headquarters is in Antarctica?" sniped Andy, shamelessly filling her handbag with the sample-size alcohol the car had displayed. "We don't have time for that!"

"Ain't nobody got time for that!" whispered Ollie, facing his laughter to the window. Andy glared at him, but Agent Arthur made no obvious reaction.

"I assure you, the voyage will be short," he said, turning to the driver. "James, if you please."

For the second time, Andy paid particularly attention to the driver in front. There was a screen between them, but she could see through it. The man was clean-shaved, he looked to be between 50-60, but certainly not older than that. He wore a smart suit as his uniform and black driving gloves. She wondered if he also wore driving shoes. She kept her eyes on him as he reached into the glove department box and drew out a short twig. It took her a moment to realise what exactly it was. He pointed his wand forward and chanted something she couldn't hear through the glass.

'Must be sound-proof' thought Andy.

Ollie looked out of the window and was caught by the flash of grey that whipped past, distorting all colour and merging with the winds. The grey fired up into an icy white, blurred with blue. Everything slowed down as the blues, fluttering past in wisps of snow, ended abruptly as they drove into a car park. The door sealed shut behind them and the car came to a gentle halt.

"You use magic," stated Andy, her voice clearly expecting an explanation.

"We are aware of and utilise magic as need be," said Agent Arthur. "We do not abuse it."

"So say the dead," grumbled Ollie.

Other men dressed like Agent Arthur opened the doors of the car, standing just to the side so that they could leave on either side.

"My fellow agents will take you to facilities where you will receive appropriate uniforms for your mission," announced Arthur. "Please follow them."

"Are they all frighteningly stoic or were we just lucky with you?" asked Ollie, dragging himself up through one door as Andy went through the other.


Ollie walked through the final set of automatic doors into an expansive HQ filled with large computers with massive quantities of important looking information displayed. Every computer had someone sat in front of it, many of whom had headsets into which they were talking. Other than them, there were dozens of people walking around with papers and files in hand, but most of them looked young; the oldest one that Ollie paid attention to was a woman who could only have been 25. He had been instructed to go to the platform in the centre with the railings. He walked fairly easily, nobody in this room seemed as cold or emotionless as the agents he'd met up until this point, they were also not wearing suits but more comfortable clothes of similar grey-blue colours. He stood on the central platform, waiting for someone to appear. The ground jolted beneath him and the platform floated upwards, carrying him into an opening in the ceiling that he hadn't thought to notice. He was almost impressed by their base until he thought about where they were getting their funding. He was lifted into a new room that looked like the inside of an expansive attic, waiting for the jostle that proved the platform had stopped. He looked over at the large, circular conference table with numerous people waiting and made his way towards them.

"Thank you for joining us, Oliver," said one woman with her blonde hair tied tightly behind her head.

"You're very welcome," he answered, taking a seat next to Andy.

"We'll cut to the chase," entered a gruffer voice, although the man who spoke looked like he was barely out of school. "We've been hacked by an unknown party, but we've managed to track a signal to a small house on the coast of Cornwall. The house has no names officially signed to it, and hasn't since 1888."

"Maybe it's Jack the Ripper's house," suggested Ollie blandly.

"Jack the Ripper lived in London," pointed out some snobby kid on Andy's side of the table.

"Forgive me, I was talking about Jacqueline the Ripper," replied Ollie, smiling bitterly. "Copycat killer, Dover lass, I wouldn't expect you to know her."

The snobbish boy sat back in his chair, scowling. "Explain again why we need them."

"They are the only ones we can confirm are not known by the hacker," said the first woman.

"How do you know that?" asked Andy.

"I am a psychic," answered the woman. "I saw that it would be you two who helped us."

"Well, I hate to disappoint a lady as pretty as you," winked Andy, whilst Ollie shook his head. To his surprise, the other woman smiled and looked away.

"So, what do you need us to do?" asked Ollie.

"We only require that you infiltrate the house in question," said the gruff voice. "You will need to locate the computer and insert a USB that will provided before you leave. After that, you need only get yourselves out. Naturally you will be compensated."

"You make it sound so easy," pointed out Andy, still making eyes across the table.

"The difficulty of your mission will be determined entirely by what you find in that house," replied the man. "Good luck."


"You're so into the psychic lady," commented Ollie.

"You're literally breaking into someone's house right now," pointed out Andy, keeping her position on the roof. "There are better times to have this conversation."

Ollie was suspended from the ceiling by his anti-gravity shoes, his overly long hair cascading straight down like arrows pointing to the laser grid that crisscrossed the floor. He walked along casually, keeping his hands in his pocket; he looked casual, but he was really keeping the USB tucked into his fist so that it didn't risk falling out. The rest of his outfit was essentially a dark blue cat suit adorned with a belt, buckled with a metal clip that read 'ReCoY', but the 'e' and 'o' were too small to notice.

"Y'know, these belts-"

"Yes, they look like they say RACY, hilarious," interrupted Andy. "Stay focused."

"All right, all right," sighed Ollie, halting as he looked at the two doors at the end of the corridor. "Andy, directions?"

"I'm checking," said Andy, scanning the blueprint she'd been given quickly. It should be difficult to see since it was so dark outside at this time of night, but fortunately the ink of the blueprint was glow-in-the-dark. "It looks like the study is in the room on the left."

"What if the floor in that room is lasered too?" pointed out Ollie. "Moving the door will royally screw us over."

"There's nothing in the prints about lasers in that room," she answered. "If you mess up, it's on RACY."

Ollie looked to his left and moved towards the door, glancing up occasionally at the floor. He didn't think that he'd ever actually see the lasers of a security system; he always expected them to be invisible for some reason. He pressed the door in the top corner to see if it would fall open so easily, but naturally that didn't work, so he had to walk along the wall and try the door handle. The door yielded easily, but no alarm bells rang so Ollie didn't think too much of it. He peered in, letting light shine against the easy white and blue wallpaper, framed along the floor trimmings with… ducks? Ollie looked at the room more closely: toy pile in the corner, a spare table with packets of nappies in the shelf underneath, a crib still in the darkness at the other end of the room… oh no.

"Andy," whispered Ollie, desperately trying not to hiss. "This is a nursery!"

"Nursery?" repeated Andy, looking down at the map. "You idiot, I said go to the left!"

"I did go to the left!"

Andy paused for a second before her face relaxed entirely. "You went left?"


"Then you went left whilst upside down!" Andy explained.

"You just told me to go left!" he argued.

"My left! The normal left!" she bit back. "Just get out of there. If that baby wakes up, we're done."

Electing not to risk it, Ollie stayed quiet. He was planted on a wall, standing perfectly horizontally, if he saw something like that outside of his door whilst he slept he'd… well, he personally wouldn't be too shocked at this point, but anyone else would shit themselves. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door slowly towards him, far more aware of the friction between the door and the carpet than before. He wondered if pulling it quickly would make more or less noise than doing it slowly, but he didn't want to risk it. This was quiet enough. He pulled it all the way closed and raced along the wall to the other door, opening that. Now, this was a study; books on the wall, desk at the far end with a computer on top. He jumped back up onto the ceiling and raced along the top, turning it off and flipping back down onto the floor. He quickly flipped the laptop open, staying out of the reach of the embedded webcam, and plugging in the USB. He was told that the USB would show an orange light whilst it did its work, then it'd turn blue when it was done. He kneeled on the floor, watching the light, waiting for nothing.

"So," he said, already bored, "you gonna bang psychic lady?"

"Stay focused," answered Andy.

"I'm watching the light, just answer the question," he insisted.

"She seemed like she was into it," she smiled. "I certainly wouldn't walk away."

"I thought you were saving yourself for when Tamara inevitably turned around and said 'take me Andrea!' mocked Ollie.

"Shut up," said Andy. She shrugged, "Tamara is dating and she's happy. It doesn't do me any good to save myself for a straight girl."

"Oh sure, when you say it it's all reasonable, when I say it I need to get my head out of the gutter," complained Ollie.

"Yup," agreed Andy.

Ollie shook his head and rolled his eyes, but stopped suddenly. Click.

"Oh shit," he said.


"Somebody's home."

"What?" exclaimed Andy, "that's not possible! I've been here the whole night: no cars, no lights, no people."

"Well, there is a baby here," reminded Ollie. "Who leaves a baby alone."

"Literally us," said Andy.

"Yeah, but that wasn't our baby," hissed Ollie, sinking lower onto the floor, praying for the light to turn orange.

"Does it sound like he's coming towards you?" asked Andy.

Ollie listened for a minute. He couldn't hear anything, but he was certain he was not alone. Beep beep. Ba-doop. That sounded like someone pressing in the combination for the security. Was the owner coming down here?

"Andy, he's coming," breathed Ollie, taking in exactly what he was doing for the first time.

"Get out of there!" she hissed. "Jump out the window!"

"The USB!" he argued.

"Fuck the USB! Get out of there!"

"I think it's nearly done," said Ollie. "It's flashing blue. They said it would be solid blue."

"Oliver! Get out of there right now!" exclaimed Lilith.

Ollie waited where he was, staring at the tiny technology. The frequency of the flashes had steadily increased until now it was just blinking, being pushed by Ollie's will for it to be complete. It kept blinking, faster and faster. Ollie was gritting his teeth and glaring until his eyes stung. He snapped his head up as the door opened. Whoever it was walked in quite calmly, his designer slippers traversing the carpet without concern. He flicked the lights on and sighed, clearly basking in the uninterrupted intimacy of his study; his laptop was closed and clearly nobody else had been here. It was his own little world. He traversed the length of the room, reclining gently into his ergonomic chair.

From under the desk, Ollie could hear him open his laptop, the USB clutched desperately in his hand. He took the risk and snatched it away, slammed the computer and shut and hid in the first place he could. Now his knee was a centimetre from knocking against the reason he was here.

The man shuffled in his seat and coughed lightly to clear his throat. There was short tone from the computer, followed by the very familiar voice saying:

"User: Stephen Roberts."

Ollie's eyes went wide and his jaw set itself. Andy heard it too and was whispering into Ollie's ear.

"Don't do anything," she warned. "For the love of God, don't do anything. He'll leave eventually, just stay still."

Of course, it would be the bastard that had pissed Ollie off that was trying to mess with RACY. Of course, it would be this prick who Ollie had to steal from. And thankfully, it was this absolute git that Ollie would happily brag about abruptly punching straight in the nuts.

The man groaned as loud as beast, whacking his chin on the table in pain. Before he could think to recover, Ollie shoved his seat up, tipping it way over and sending his teacher to the floor. He bolted out from under the desk and swan dived out of the window, shattering it without a second's thought. He rolled to the ground and ran like he was being hounded.

"I'm out! Retreat!" shouted Ollie. He could hear Andy packing up her equipment and moving back to the rendezvous point.


Ollie sat at the breakfast bar, munching on cereal and savouring every bite. RACY, the real name of which Ollie had entirely forgotten, had kept their promise about paying Andy and Ollie for their time. They had enough money to buy brand-name cereal for at least a year, and they would. It wasn't enough to move into a nicer place, but it was only one mission. The smaller compensation also meant that RACY didn't have the authority to call on them whenever they so pleased; it was like working freelance, but instantly more rewarding. He heard Andy's door opening and looked over to see the blonde beauty from the meeting emerge, wearing the same uniform she'd been wearing when Ollie saw her last.

"Morning," he nodded.

"Hello," she blushed, her accent furiously British.

Ollie watched her as she picked up her wallet from the bar. He expected her to have a purse, but he supposed she could use what she wanted. "You know something?" he said, catching her attention. "You really remind me of someone."

"Really?" she asked, seeming genuinely interested. "Who might that be?"

"I can't quite remember," he admitted, still chewing. "Someone important though."

She sighed audibly. "Let me guess, Daenerys from Game of Thrones?"

Ollie looked perplexed. "I probably can't afford to know who that is, but no." He paused a second. "I'm thinking…Lady Godiva."

Suddenly, Andy bounded into the room, clearly dressed to go out. She walked over to the blonde and kissed her happily, offering coffee. She declined, claiming that she needed to go to work, which Andy nodded at.

"I'll take you to the door," she said, leading her away.

They went off down the corridor, kissing once they reached the end. Andy blindly felt for the door, opening it with one hand and a preoccupied focus.

"Oh! Hi," came a third female voice.

Andy whipped around, seeing Tamara's wide eyes and surprised smile right in front of her face was always a pleasant surprise, but a surprise more than anything. She detached from the blonde nervously.

"T-Tamara!" she exclaimed. "Hi!" She seemed to suddenly remember the girl beside her, but had to swallow and calm herself before she spoke again. "This is Eileen. Eileen, this is my friend Tamara."

"Good morning," smiled Eileen, holding out her hand.

"Ditto," said Tamara, accepting the handshake.

They shook for longer than Ollie considered normal, but perhaps customs changed from place to place, the kitchen to the hall. The silence would have been awkward, but Eileen didn't seem to want that.

"I do need to get going," she announced, twiddling with the hem of Andy's shirt. "Perhaps you shall receive another mission soon."

"I look forward to it," replied Andy, allowing Eileen to lean in and kiss her again.

She looked up to Tamara. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Peace out," she answered, letting the blonde go past easily. She snapped back to Andy, smile plastered on her face. "You dog!" Andy blushed hard, the red setting of very clearly against her skin. "I didn't know you had it in you. Where'd you meet? What'd you do? Was it good? Who is she?" Tamara paused, her expression becoming more suggestive. "What kind of missions are you going on?"

"I'll tell you one thing for everything you buy me today," offered Andy, grabbing her jacket from the hook on the door. "Ollie, I'll be back late."

"I'll remember you after I jack off," he hollered back.

"As long as it's not before," she answered, closing the door behind her.