Big Dirk Allen And The Tiny Blonde Vi

Tina shoved her hands into her coat pockets. Soon she'd need to bring gloves with her on assignments. Cold weather gloves, she specified in her mind. She always had latex gloves on her, just in case. She glanced down at the book open in her lap. Sitting on a bench in the middle of Perspective Park wasn't the best place to read, but it was the best place to people watch.

"Tell me," she quietly said without moving her lips, "about the couple at 10 o'clock."

"My 10 or your 10?" the man sitting next to her asked.

"We're facing the same direction, Dirk," she responded. "It's the same 10 o'clock for both of us."

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Dirk took a deep breath and pretended to play a game on his phone. As a former male model, he instinctively struck a pose that was natural and visually pleasing. The casual way he wore his autumn jacket showed off its manly shape and rugged details. His long, muscular legs, carelessly crossed, accentuated the lines on his blue jeans. The lock of dark hair falling over his pale green eyes was like an invitation to run one's fingers through his hair.

Tina shoved her hands deeper into her pockets.

"Ok," Dirk mumbled, still pretending to stare at his phone, "10 o'clock is on the right."

"Left," she quickly corrected.

"Left," he agreed. "So the couple at 10 o'clock is... Oh sure. Man and woman in their late 20s. He has a good paying job, a lot of pressure, but he skates by. She is an entrepreneur and makes her own hours."

"How do you know that?" Tina asked.

"Well, he's got a nice suit on," Dirk explained, "and she's wearing paint splattered jeans and a hoodie. Also he's buying drugs from her."

A wide smile spread across Tina's lips. A passerby would have assumed she'd just read something sweet in the new Slap Sullivan mystery. "Very good, Agent Allen," she said. "You're going to ace the observational section on the exam."

Technically Dirk wasn't an agent, not yet. He'd been training under Tina's watchful eye for several months now. Tomorrow was the exam to become an accredited Secret World Security Organization Agent. If he passed the test, she wouldn't be his boss anymore. They'd officially be partners.

"How are you doing with the Regulations?" a mechanical voice chirped in their ears. "You're not going to pass anything if you haven't memorized all the SWSO rules." Fac-Tel was the artificial intelligence that monitored all of Tina and Dirk's missions, providing information and logistical back up when needed. It didn't have the same confidence in Dirk that Tina had. In fact, it had bet Tina 3 bitcoins Dirk would fail the exam.

"I've been reading them," Dirk said. "There are one hundred rules. I'm up to 93."

"93? Really?" Tina pulled her hands from her pockets and unzipped her coat. "That's... almost all."

He was almost up to Rule 96, the rule that specified what forms of love secret agents were allowed to feel. Love of country, love of duty and love of sacrifice were the only permissible loves. Everything else was off limits.

It was the hardest rule to keep, but it was necessary. Seventy-two percent of agents in training couldn't do it. Upon learning what it truly meant to give up love, they left the SWSO. They just couldn't hack it.

Dirk had a complicated relationship with his parents, but Tina was confident he'd be more than willing to wipe them from his life. It was the other love, romantic love, that had her worried. She was fairly certain he was falling in love with her. Worse yet, she might be falling in love with him too.

It was all the sex they'd had. The fact that it was strictly work related coitus didn't prevent the emotional bonding. Everytime they took off their clothes and engaged in intercourse, the bond strengthened, deepened, grew more profound. It didn't help that she genuinely liked him. Tina enjoyed Dirk as a person. She trusted him. If they continued to have sex, eventually there'd be no turning back. The bonding, trust and appreciation would combine into something unbreakable. They'd be in love and in danger of compromising everything they'd worked for.

Four out of five times it had been absolutely necessary for Tina to drop her panties and ride Dirk like a wild stallion. Lives had been at stake. Except for the last time. The last time they'd fucked because they wanted to fuck. No one would have died if they had kept the investigation platonic.

All their missions could be platonic if they worked at it. Tina had been an SWSO agent for nearly 10 years, but it was only in the past several month that she'd had to have sex with her partner. Perhaps the issue was her problem solving skills. Maybe she was getting a little lazy and falling back on the familiar. She just needed look past the obvious solution of boning Dirk and get more creative.

That was exactly what she was going to do. From now on, no matter how dire the situation, they would not have sex. They would just have to find another solution. Fac-Tel would help. The computer had never liked the coital solutions. Tina was sure it would be more than happy to find a different way out of a jam.

And perhaps if she and Dirk stopped having sex, the bond between them would stop growing. If there was no bond, there was no love and if there was no love, then Dirk probably wouldn't have a problem with Rule 96.

Tina closed her eyes and said a little prayer to a god she didn't believe in. Dirk had to accept Rule 96, he just had to. If he didn't, he'd have to leave the SWSO and Tina's heart would break into a million jagged pieces.

"Gonna finish up the Rules tonight," he was saying, blissfully unaware that Tina had lost herself in a long inner monologue. Maybe his observational skills did need more work. "And then I just gotta remember to take my gun with me tomorrow. Look, I remembered it today."

He pulled back his jacket and lifted his T-shirt to reveal washboard abs, defined obliques and a handgun shoved into the waist of his jeans.

"That's great." Tina did her best not to draw attention to them as she quietly moved his jacket back into place and covered the gun. "You are improving in that department, but you need to wear an SWSO approved holster. It's not safe to shove a gun down your pants."

"I will remember that for next time." He smiled brightly at her. "When you're a student of life, everyday is a learning opportunity."

Tina couldn't help but smile back at him. His thirst for life was infectious. It made her want to take off her clothes. It made her want to ask Fac-Tel to find the nearest sleazy hotel where she and Dirk could fuck for the rest of the afternoon. She craved the feeling of his hard cock inside her. She wanted it so bad; she was practically drooling from both ends.

But Dirk's cock wasn't an option, not anymore. She'd have to satisfy herself with saving lives and putting bad people behind bars.

"So, back to observational skills," she said as she did her best not to picture Dirk naked. He looked so good naked. "As secret agents, we have to be aware of our surroundings at all times. It's so easy to get distracted, but we can't let that happen. An assassin will attack when you least expect it."

"I doubt there are any assassins in Middleburg," Dirk said. "Besides, who would want to kill- Ouch!" His hand shot up to the side of his neck. "I think a bug just bit me."

"A bug? What sort of-" Tina started to say, but she was stopped short by a sharp, stinging pain in the back of her neck. "Ouch!" It wasn't a bug bite, she was sure of that. Her suspicions were confirmed when she pulled a large blow dart from the back of her neck.

Dirk held an identical one in his hands. Both were approximately five centimeters long, with impressive blue feather fletching, and on the end was a circular tag that said, "Nice knowing you. Love, General Zero."

* * * * *

A cold shiver ran over Dirk's body. Whatever was on the tip of that dart, he could feel it spreading out from the wound on his neck.

"Fac-Tel," Tina said, her voice quiet, yet determined. "We've both been dosed with an unknown substance. Analyze our blood to find out what it is."

"Starting analysis now," the computer responded.

Dirk found strength in Tina's brown eyes. She knew what to do. She'd save him.

"Move as little as you can, and do your best to keep your breath slow and shallow." She said to him. "When you're calm, start describing symptoms. It'll help Fac-Tel isolate the substance."

"Ok," he said, his words a little mumbled from trying not to move his jaw or tongue.

"There's a warm sensation emanating from the puncture wound," Tina said. "Heart Rate seems normal for now."

"I taste pennies," Dirk added.

Tina swallowed. "I do too."

"Analysis complete," Fac-Tel said. "Sorry it took so long, but there were a lot of things it could have been."

"What's the diagnosis?" Tina asked.

"I'll explain it," the A.I. said, "but while I'm doing that, you need to follow my directions, without question."

"Why?" Dirk asked.

"How important is it, Agent Blondel, that Agent Allen survive this?"

"Very," she answered. "Now tell us what to do."

"All movements need to be slow," Fac-Tel instructed. "You need to keep your heart rate low, to slow down the progress of the poison. But you can't be too slow, because the longer you take to do what I say, the sooner you're going to die. So when I say no questions, that means don't ask questions."

"Got it." Tina looked Dirk in the eye and raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Got it," he said. "No questions. Just do what you say."

"Stand up," Fac-Tel said, "and follow the path forty-five degrees to your right out of the park. Aim for the Matthias Middle statue on top of city hall."

Tina took Dirk's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. It was her way of telling him that everything would be alright. In his heart he smiled. Together, they stood and followed Fac-Tel's commands, walking toward the giant statue of the Middleburg founder that crowned the city hall clocktower.

Matthias Middle was a source of inspiration for all Middleburgers. With his lantern held high, he guided the city, illuminating safe passage. In many ways, Tina was like Matthias Middle's lantern. She guided Dirk. She inspired him. She was his safe passage.

There was a connection between them. They tried to deny it, but it was real and it was good. It was the best thing in Dirk's life. Yes, he was exceptionally good looking, had a cool job, as well as strange and marvelous powers, but none of that came close to the joy Tina brought him.

Tomorrow, before he took the Secret Agent Exam, Dirk was going to tell her how he felt. He would lay himself bare, not literally, but figuratively. After the exam, if things went well, he'd lay himself bare literally. One of his favorite things to do in the whole world was getting naked with Tina. They'd only ever done it for work, but once they started going at it recreationally, it would be awesome. If they survived this whole poison thing and Dirk passed the exam tomorrow, he would take the time to undress her slowly, suck on her plump titties, tongue her pussy until she screamed his name and then nail her to the mattress all damn night.

Dirk took a slow and shallow breath to clear his mind. He had to focus on the issue at hand and not think about fucking his coworker. He needed to keep his blood pressure down and this line of thought was doing the opposite. The mental image of Tina naked on a bed, her legs spread open and her arms reaching for him, was causing Dirk to sport a chub. So no more daydreaming until after there was no imminent threat of death.

"The bad news," Fac-Tel was saying as Tina and Dirk strolled out of the park, "is that you've been hit with a potent neural toxin. It will cause hallucinations, paranoia and eventually death. The good news is I can synthesize an antidote."

"That is good news," Tina said and she squeezed Dirk's hand again.

"Turn left when you get to the sidewalk," Fac-Tel said. "The other bad news is it takes a while to synthesize the antidote, much longer than it takes for the toxin to kill a person."

"That's very bad news," Dirk said. It looked like he wouldn't live long enough to take the Secret Agent Exam. If he was ever going to tell Tina how he truly felt, he was going to have to do it now.

"Cross the street here," the A.I. ordered. "The other good news is there's a way to slow the progress of the toxin. See that building with the yellow and red striped awning?"

"The dirty and tattered awning?" Tina asked.

"Yeah," Fac-Tel said. "Go in there."

"Is the thing that slows down the toxin in there?" Dirk asked.

"Sort of," Fac-Tel said. "I'm going to stop for a moment to remind you of the no questions rule, because you've both broken it in the past thirty seconds."

"Sorry," Tina said.

"Yeah, sorry." Dirk echoed. He looked up to see the broken neon sign hanging over the awning. Hotel Upscale, it read in red flickering lights.

"The only way to slow down the progress of the toxin," Fac-Tel explained as they entered the dimly lit lobby, "is to flood the brain with serotonin."

Tina abruptly stopped walking. "No."

"Yeah," the computer explained. "You two are going to have to fuck, long and hard. For two hours."

Dirk moved toward the front desk, pulling Tina along behind him. "That's the best news so far."

"There must be another way," she said. "Couldn't you manufacture massive doses of serotonin and send them to us via drone?"

"I don't like this anymore than you do," Fac-Tel said. "The act of human coitus is disgusting, especially when you two do it, but I can't waste time on the serotonin. I have to put all my resources into the antidote. You will have to provide your own serotonin."

"We could eat chocolate," Tina said.

"Or you could do what you promised you'd do," the A.I. snapped, "and obey my orders without question!"

Dirk smiled at the man standing behind the front desk; a thick pane of bulletproof glass separated them. "Good afternoon," he said, trying his best to enunciate his words. It wasn't easy. His tongue felt thick and numb and a little bit self aware. "One room, please."

The old man's eyes scraped over them, leaving a slimy trail wherever his gaze landed. "By the hour or by the night?"

"I don't think we'll need the whole night," Dirk answered.

"You'll be done in two hours," Fac-Tel said, "one way or the other."

"We could try public approval," Tina said. "That's shown to release serotonin."

It may have been the toxin working on his system and making him paranoid, but Dirk was beginning to wonder if Tina didn't want to have sex with him. The last time they had done it, she'd practically begged for it. That, in and of itself, had been a big turn on. But if she wasn't into it, he'd feel weird doing it. He might even have performance issues.

"What can I do to get you in the mood?" he asked. "If you're not an enthusiastic partner, we will die."

Tina sighed. "I'm not trying to be difficult."

"I know." Dirk squeezed her hand, giving back to her the reassurance she had given him earlier. "Close your eyes. I'll provide some mental images I think might turn you on."

"Ok." She closed her eyes. "Thanks."

"Picture me shirtless," he whispered in her ear, "doing that thing you always wanted me to do, but were too shy to ask, vacuuming your living room. See the sun glistening off my sweaty body as I reach up and get those cobwebs in the corners."

She opened one eye. "Dirk?"

"Shhh." He let his voice drop an octave. "Now I'm loosening all the jars in your kitchen, yeah, just the way you like it. And look what I bought you, a dress with pockets."

"Dirk!" She tugged violently on his hand and then motioned to the hotel manager. "Look at his fingernails," she hissed.

The man's hands rested on the counter, his fingers laced together. It had been a while since he'd been to the manicure, that was obvious. His nails were torn and uneven with dirt wedged beneath them.

"Do you see them?" she asked. "What should we do?"

"I don't know," Dirk responded. "Maybe a gift card for a manicure and pedicure." It had been nearly two weeks since Dirk's last mani-pedi. He could go for another one. It was so relaxing to have the dead skin scraped off his feet. But that would have to wait until after they survived the toxin.

"A manicure?" Tina wasn't whispering anymore. "That's your solution to tv monitors embedded in a person's fingers?"

"Oh no," Fac-Tel said. "She's hallucinating."

"So you want the room or not?" the man asked. His perfectly normal, if unattractive, fingernails stared back at Dirk, taunting him with their mediocrity.

"Get the room," Fac-Tel said. "Do it now, Dirk. Tina has less body mass. The poison is working faster on her. You need to take charge. Get the room."

He pulled all the money out of his pocket and slammed it down on the counter. "We'll take it and any condoms you might have."

Tina was on edge as they rode the elevator up to their floor. "Do you see them?" she asked, her eyes fixated on where the wall met the ceiling. "They're everywhere."

Dirk didn't see them, not until they were walking down the hallway to their room. That's when the faces appeared. They slowly emerged from the walls as if they'd been trapped in another dimension, and smiled big, friendly smiles.

"Hey Dirk," they said in unison. "You're looking good today, buddy."

"Thanks." He waved at them. "You have fun tonight doing your face wall thing."

"Keep it together," Fac-Tel said. "Both of you. You're almost at the room."

"They're watching us," Tina said. She sounded near tears. "They see everything we do."

"Yep," Dirk agreed. "It's kind of nice, if I do say so myself."

"Here," Fac-Tel said. "This is your room. Unlock the door, go inside and take off all your clothes."

Dirk unlocked the door. "Awesome!"

* * * * *

The room was dark and foreboding with bars over the windows and a yellow flowered blanket draped over the bed. In all four corners were sentient cameras, judging and recording their every move and broadcasting it to the enemy.

"Disarm first," Fac-Tel instructed. "As the toxin progresses, your paranoia will reach dangerous levels."

Tina trusted Fac-Tel. They'd been working together since the first day she'd joined the SWSO. She could count on the A.I. to tell her the truth. Dirk, on the other hand, she wasn't so sure about.

"Take your weapons out of your holsters and remove the bullets," Fac-Tel continued, "then put guns and bullets in the bathroom sink."

She'd known Dirk for less than a year. His mother was a notorious criminal, his father a shady wizard. Their gorgeous, super powered offspring would make the perfect sleeper agent. Tina studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. How had she not seen it before? He was using his erie green eyes to send secrets back to the bad guys.

"We're making gun soup," he said as he dumped his bullets into the sink and turned on the faucet. "Gun soup. Gun soup," he sang. "Whatcha gonna do. Whatcha gonna do when you have to poo."

"Back to the bedroom," Fac-Tel said. "Undress, starting with your shoes."

"Hee hee," Dirk laughed. "You said shoes."

As he removed his items of clothing, Tina saw more of the real Dirk. Evil oozed from every pore, seeping over his skin and leaving a thin, shiny layer that smelled like pineneedles. It was kind of hot.

He was extremely fuckable, in that way all elemental evil is fuckable. It was that nasty, dirty, animal rutting that was both excruciatingly satisfying and gloriously humiliating. Tina wanted it. She wanted it bad, but she wouldn't do it. Her first priority was to stop Dirk (if that even was his name) from broadcasting her secrets back to his faceless overlords.

"Underwear next," Fac-Tel ordered. "Everything comes off. Then get on the bed."