Melanie gave a cry of exasperation and bit her lip, nearly bringing herself to tears as she stood in the hallway outside of her boss's office. The manilla folders that had been so neatly stacked, their contents carefully categorized and color coded, lay on the gray carpeted floor, their contents scattered in complete disarray. Hours of work gone, and for what?
Standing resolutely Melanie tightened her grip on her assailant's wrist. Without giving him time to react to his failed attack Melanie grabbed his arm with her other hand. Shifting forward with all her might she threw the man over her shoulder to land in front of her splayed out over the spilled files.
"What the hell Tori!" Melanie shouted as she stomped with the business end of her tan high heel directly towards the man's crotch, but Tori had played this game once too often and knew to scramble back to avoid the attack to his manhood.
Tori's face was red with laughter as he brought himself quickly back to his feet. Leaning against the wall for support he caught his breath as he loosened his gaudy red striped tie. His black suit coat was open, the pristine white dress shirt had come partly untucked, his ear length dirty blonde hair fell into his face. "I'm sorry...I couldn't resist...you just looked so...so..." He gasped between fits of laughter.
Melanie felt her cheeks burn crimson, flushing with righteous anger as she kneeled down, demurely tucking her bright purple skirt under her knees as she began the arduous task of picking up the papers she had haplessly discarded. He should know better. Melanie glared at him, her blue-green eyes burning with fire. After all of the training they had gone through together he knew exactly what reaction attacking her would provoke, even at the cost of losing hours worth of work. She let out a disgusted sigh as she picked up a few papers that had been crumbled in the ordeal and shoved everything haphazardly back into files which were all blazoned with red ink. 'Classified.' "I looked so what?" Melanie didn't dignify her partner with a glance as he bent over and began picking papers as well.
"Like that." Tori pointed at Melanie who sat on the floor, a pile of papers in her hands. She was wearing a ruffled cream top tucked neatly into her knee length pencil skirt and a thick brown belt. Her wavy brown hair was tied back in a loose messy bun, a pen protruding from the bun. Convenient storage. "A secretary." Tori explained.
Melanie's red lips tightened with anger, her thin brown eyebrows lowering dangerously over her eyes. She stood up, balancing delicately on her tall tan high heels. Clearing her throat she reached out her well manicured hand with metallic purple nail polish that matched her skirt. She waved her hand expectantly until Tori deposited his collection of papers into her waiting fingers. Melanie opened her small mouth ready to launch into a series of comebacks when the door to their boss's office swung open so violently it nearly made Melanie jump.
Their boss was red in the face, all the way to the top of his shiny bald head. "What in the devil's name is going on out here?" He asked angrily, his soft jowls jiggling side to side as he spoke.
Tori held back another laugh and straightened himself up. With a sharp movement of his arms he brought his suit coat back into alignment and quickly fastened one of the buttons. He smoothly slicked back his hair and wore the charming smile that had all the ladies (and some boys) in the training academy swooning. "Sorry sir, just testing Agent Nelson's reflexes is all. Just some harmless fun."
The boss stood in the doorway sweating in his double breasted wool suit. His beady black eyes, shadowed by wispy white eyebrows, looked from Tori to Melanie who sheepishly clutched the pile of papers to her chest. "This the CIA, not some damn rodeo!" He exclaimed and continued to glare down the two agents for another moment before relinquishing his stare and retreating from the door with a heavy sigh that shuddered through his large frame. "Well, it's just as well that you're here. Come in, the both of you. I have a new mission for you."
--
Melanie clasped her hand over her stomach as she felt the car turn off of the main road. Glistening metal gates with ornate decoration, some sort of abstract flower gilded with gold climbing the trellis of the thick steel bars, swung open. Melanie noticed the spikes at the top of the gate and felt the butterflies rise in her stomach again. The crunch of crushed rock beneath the tires added to her uneasiness as she strained her face against the window, her large blue-green eyes taking in as much of the scenery as she could. Melanie had been an Agent of the United States government for a good five years now, but that had mostly been desk work, pencil pusher kind of tasks. Secretary, she thought with scorn, remembering Tori's assessment of her outfit earlier in the week. But today was her first real field work, and an undercover mission to boot! Melanie took a deep breath to ease her nerves. She had confidence that she could complete the mission, but that didn't take away the familiar jitters of having to perform the work of her undercover position. In essence this was day one of a new job for her, and if the mission was to be successful she would need to learn the ropes and how to please her new boss without fail.
The estate was as elaborate as she expected, for it was the private estate of a prince of a foreign country. The long drive from the gate wound through shaded orchards of various fruit trees, Melanie noticed a few trees with branches that appeared to droop they were so laden with apples. They passed a vineyard and various outbuildings discreetly set behind the ridge of a hill, until at last the path opened out to a straight drive lined with pristinely groomed hedges. The mansion came into view; pristine and white like marble the building sat like a treasured pearl at the end of the road. It looked like it was from a different era altogether. Long crenulated columns sat at intervals down the front of the building. It looked like the grotesque child of a Grecian temple and American gothic.
"Nervous?" Melanie withdrew herself from the window and caught the eyes of the chauffeur in the driver's seat looking at her reflection in the rear view mirror. The man wore a dark blue double breasted suit with a flat topped driver's hat. His brown eyes crinkled in amusement as the woman in the back seat fidgeted.
Melanie laughed softly, relaxing her face as she ran her fingers through a curl of her long brown hair. "Naturally. This is a big job for me. And this..." She let her eyes trail outside of the window of the limousine again as the car came to a stop. Keep it together Mel. The girl mentally reminded herself. This was a big job in more ways than she could ever say, especially to this driver. "This is more than I ever expected." She let out a small gasp of astonishment as she noticed a small group of people waiting in a line expectantly outside of the short stairway into the main house.
There were three muscular men all in stiff black suits that fought over their biceps, black ties straight as an arrow pointed down their barrel chests, their backs were rigid with military precision. Beside them stood a lankier gentleman in a dark blue blazer over a pinstriped shirt with matching pants, a cheerful orange bow tie jauntily sticking out from under his shirt collar, and further back from him was a demure red haired maid in a classic black dress with white ruffled apron and cap.
Parking the black limo the driver immediately hopped up from his seat and ran around to the side. Melanie withdrew her delicate fingers, decorated in the simple yet elegant french nail style. She was surprised when the door opened before she had a chance to even tug on the handle. She glanced at the pristine white glove that the chauffeur had extended to her and placed her palm into his, standing up gracefully from the car. She discreetly tried to tug on the edge of her tight black pencil skirt. It had ridden up during the ride and now sat dangerously high on her thighs. Hoping no one noticed the small indiscretion she plastered a cheerful grin on her face and strode forward carefully, the heel of her six inch stiletto digging into the white gravel threatening to throw her off balance and snap an ankle. Just why was this a requirement for the dress code for this place? Mel thought angrily. She was fine with all manner of high heels, but the shoe had to match the terrain.
"Hello..." Melanie said in a sweetly chipper tone as she reached out her hand towards the first of the black suited men. "My name is - "
The first man in the black suit cut her off by raising his hand, palm outward, the universal signal to stop. Melanie's words caught in her throat as the two other gentlemen stepped forward to either side of her. She noticed that one of the men carried a thick black wand which he began to run over her body. "Um..." Melanie voiced her confusion, looking back at the first man for answers. All three men were wearing sunglasses and had the telltale black cord running down their thick necks from their ears. It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand these men were in the business of security.
"Security protocol, Miss Dahl. I'm sure you understand." The short man in the bow tie stepped forward, an apologetic look on his long face as he adjusted the wire rimmed glasses which sat on his small nose. He grinned merrily as he moved his hand up from his glasses and ran it through the short dark curly hair that framed his face in loose ringlets. His hair was dark to the point of being nearly black, but only nearly, as he moved his hand sunlight reflected on dark brown highlights. "Arms up, please." He emphasized the request with a point upwards of his chin.
Wordlessly Melanie obeyed, raising her arms up to her side while spreading her legs slightly. She was about to correct the man on her name but thankfully remembered to stop herself. That's right. I'm undercover. My name is not Melanie Nelson right now. It's Lisa. Lisa Dahl. Melanie was reminding herself of this fact as she felt the metal detecting wand trace her body. She squirmed as the wand trailed slowly up the inside of her firm calves, it was one of her ticklish zones. Melanie found herself holding her breath in a desperate attempt not to move as the wand traced the inside of her knee up all the way to the inside of her thighs. "H-hey!" She objected as she felt the man's rough hand brush against the top of her sheer thigh high stockings, the wand bunching up a bit of her tight, short skirt. The man made no apologies but continued his track down the same path on the opposite leg.
