FBI Agent John Hanson studied his partner, Agent Jill Morgan as she pulled on a hefty bulletproof vest over her FBI jacket. ‘She’s actually quite pretty,’ John thought to himself, kind of stunned by his own revelation. Jill was one of the toughest agents in the Bureau, a real workaholic who was constantly matching her skills against the male members of the Bureau. And usually coming out ahead.
Her lack of care about her appearance showed in her drab hair, lack of makeup and bulky, unflattering clothes. John had heard a rumor once that Jill had done an undercover assignment as a hooker early in her FBI career and that she had a killer body. But he’d also heard a rumor that she’d once beaten a suspect so badly that he’d been hospitalized for three months.
It seemed to John that her breasts filled out her uniform pretty well, but Jill never wore anything tight fitting or low cut so he couldn’t say for sure.
‘She’s probably a dyke anyway,’ John thought to himself. “Are you sure Leatherbarrow’s in there?” was what he said aloud.
“That’s what my sources tell me,” Jill replied. Antony Leatherbarrow was one of the largest organized crime bosses in the country. The two FBI agents had been after him for almost two years now, but so far he’d always eluded them, they didn’t have a shred of evidence that would convict him of the countless murders, robberies and worse that he’d ordered committed. “Leatherbarrow himself is supposed to be here tonight for this deal. We can catch him red handed.”
“I hope so,” John said with a sigh, “I think my wife has forgotten what I look like.”
“She’s lucky then,” joked Jill, checking that her gun was loaded and ready. “Let’s go kick some ass!”
John drew his gun from his shoulder holster and followed Jill up the stairs of the fire escape that led up the rear of the run down building where Leatherbarrow was supposed to be making the deal. John tried to get a look at Jill’s ass as he followed her up the stairs, but her loose fitting trousers and long jacket covered her effectively.
At the top of the stairs Jill didn’t wait to make sure John had kept up, but immediately kicked the door open and burst inside. John followed, hot on her heels.
The room beyond was not what they had been expecting.
The room was filled with shelves and files, and looked quite a mess with papers strewn everywhere. Against one wall was a large old-fashioned desk, behind sat a small man in a cheap suit who was busy tapping away at a large adding machine.
“You’re not Leatherbarrow!” exclaimed John in surprise, stating the obvious.
“No,” the man replied with a confused frown. “I’m his accountant.”
***
It turned out that Agents Hanson and Morgan had burst in, not on Antony Leatherbarrow, but on Larry Matthews, his accountant. Larry was a short, middle-aged bean counter, slightly balding and slightly overweight who had worked for Leatherbarrow for sixteen years.
“For the last time Mr Matthews, did you witness Antony Leatherbarrow commit any real crimes at all?” asked Jill desperately. They had been interrogating Larry Matthews for the past ten hours and had got very little out of him. Larry had complained long and hard about how much he hated his client Leatherbarrow but he had so far given the FBI nothing they could use against him. A couple of times Jill had almost resorted to violence, the small man frustrating her to no end, but John had managed to convince her to keep her cool.
“Well there was that time he killed his former accountant,” Larry said offhandedly.
“What?” asked John in surprise.
“Mr Leatherbarrow killed his former accountant when he hired me.”
“And you witnessed this?” demanded Jill, standing up.
“Sure,” agreed Larry with a nod. “Leatherbarrow used it as an incentive for me to remain loyal.”
Jill was about to ask him why he hadn’t told them that ten hours ago, but John had more important questions. “You’ll testify in court to this?” John quickly asked their suspect.
“No way! Absolutely out of the question!” Larry quickly replied.
“Come on Mr Matthews,” John said. “Antony Leatherbarrow has committed more crimes than everyone else on the FBI’s most wanted list combined. Someone has to get him off the streets. Someone has to stand up to him.”
“Not a chance!” Larry insisted. “I could end up like his last accountant.”
“We can protect you,” persisted John.
“He’ll find me,” Larry said, looking a little worried now. Up until this point he had seemed almost bored with the interrogation.
“We can put you under protective custody. Give you a new identity. Keep you out of harm's way until the trial,” John told the bookish man.
Larry’s eyes lit up a bit at this. “You mean like in the movies? The FBI Witness Relocation program?”
“Exactly! Just like in the movies,” John quickly agreed. “You’ll be completely safe.”
“I’ve always wanted a new life,” Larry murmured thoughtfully, mulling over the idea. “Did you know that women don’t find accountant particularly exciting?” Larry turned to Jill as he asked this question.
“I wouldn’t know,” Jill replied in annoyance.
“Can I be a Rock Star?” Larry asked excitedly.
“I don’t know about a Rock Star,” John replied dubiously. “You have to keep low key, but I’m sure we can get you a more interesting life.”
“Good point, gotta keep out of the public eye. How about an Astronaut, or FBI agents like you guys?”
“I don’t know…” John said doubtfully.
“A reclusive novelist, how about that?” Larry’s mind was running wild at this point.
“We can sort something out I’m sure,” Jill quickly cut in.
“And a family, I’ve always wanted a family,” Larry said, grinning from ear to ear. “And a mistress, someone sexy with big tits. Hey, maybe I could be a porn star?”
“Well I’m not sure about a family. We need to have someone close to you though. Someone to look out for you in case anything goes wrong,” Jill told him.
“We can give you a wife. One of our agents,” John suggested, clicking his fingers as the idea came to him.
“I don’t know about that,” it was Larry’s turn to be doubtful. “I have my standards, I can’t have just anyone being my wife you know.”
Jill doubted he’d even been on a single date, let alone been in a position to be picky about things.
“Jill here can pose as your wife,” John suggested.
“No way!” both Jill and Larry said in unison, the idea horrifying them.
“It’s perfect!” John said, looking very pleased with his idea.
“I am not being that little worms wife!” Jill snapped angrily.
“Look at her, she dresses like a man!” complained Larry.
“Great,” John said with a smile. “It’s settled then!”
***
They had eventually come to an agreement to tidy up Jill and get her more feminine looking to pose as Larry’s wife. When John had suggested the idea to his boss he had backed up John and Jill had no choice but to go through the plan. They had also compromised on the career of a movie scriptwriter for Larry, it meant that he would be working from home so it also cut out a lot of the risks.
Larry had been very unhappy about leaving behind all his so-called friends and moving across the country to his new LA safehouse, but they had eventually convinced him by showing him a picture of the large mansion he would be living in.
“Well, here it is,” said John as he pulled the car up to the front of the huge hillside mansion.
“Wow,” breathed Larry in admiration as he got out of the car. “How does the FBI afford a place like this?”
“It was seized off a drug dealer.”
“Nice,” Larry replied with a grin. “Where’s my so-called wife?” Neither Larry nor Jill had warmed up to the idea of posing as a married couple, but they had at least reluctantly agreed to go through with John’s plan.
“She’s inside,” John replied.
“And you’re sure Leatherbarrow won’t track me down here?” Larry asked warily.
“Yes, you’re completely safe,” John assured him as they reached the front door. “I’ll leave you two newly weds to get to know each other. Remember you need to be convincing as husband and wife so try not to kill each other on the first day.”
“Fine,” replied Larry, stepping inside the house as John went back to the car. “Honey, I’m home!” he called out to Jill as he closed the front door behind him.
Larry’s mouth dropped open into a stunned gape as he took in the sight that greeted him. The previously rough looking FBI Agent Jill Morgan stepped out from the mansions kitchen, dressed in a pale pink knee-length skirt and a tight fitting pink sweater. Over this she wore a lacy apron and her hands were covered by thick white oven-mitts, which she was using to carry a hot metal baking tray that held steaming, freshly baked cookies. Her formerly scruffy and unkempt brown hair was expertly combed and tied up in a complicated looking bun, and her face was highlighted perfectly by faultless makeup.
Jill looked stunningly beautiful, she was also the picture perfect housewife. Larry Matthews was stunned.
“Hello darling,” Jill greeted him with a distasteful scowl. Her true nature immediately shone through and it was instantly obvious to Larry that she was going through with this whole ‘wifey’ routine completely against her own free will.
“You scrub up nicely,” Larry said with a grin, he couldn’t help but notice the way her bosom swelled out substantially underneath her pink sweater. He made a mental note to make further investigations in that department in the near future.
“Don’t get used to it,” growled Jill, dropping the tray of cookie’s onto the dining table. She put her hands on her hips, the action unconsciously jutting out her sizeable breasts. “This is temporary.”
Larry paused a moment to admire the gorgeous brunette, then grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the lounge. Jill came very close to throwing him across the room, but thought better of it, deciding to see what he was going to do before she crushed his testicles.
The short accountant guided Jill to the couch and sat down beside her.
“We need to talk,” he told her.
“Okay,” Jill reluctantly agreed, her face still in a glower.
