Just Imagine...

Undercover

"We need somebody else on the inside," Jack was saying as the team and Rhys sat around the boardroom table, coming up with a plan to rescue the space whale, "someone who can infiltrate the establishment and find out more, maybe help another member of the team if something goes wrong. It'll have to be someone who's a pretty good actor..."
"Someone who's good at being a rich, upper-class prick?" Owen added.
All eyes turned to Sam.
"Wha- HEY!" Sam exclaimed, "first of all, I am UPPER MIDDLE-CLASS, THANK YOU. And second of all, there is NO WAY I am gonna play dress up for... whatever this Welsh Mob selling alien meat is!"
"C'mon, Sam," Ianto said, "you're the only one who can play a character and be really convincing about it. Don't you want to save that poor creature?"
Sam inhaled deeply through her nose.
"I hate you." She said to Ianto, then turned to Jack, "and this DOES NOT mean I'll take any order you give me, got it?"
"Thanks, Mom." Jack murmured, smiling. Sam sighed heavily, standing up.
"I'll be back in half an hour." She muttered, striding out of the boardroom.
"Why's she leaving?" Rhys asked.
"Costume change." Gwen answered, trying not to laugh.

True to her word, Sam returned in half an hour. She was wearing knee-high brown leather boots, khaki pants, a light blue shirt with the top few buttons undone, a fluffy white scarf around her neck, a large collection of bracelets that jingled on her wrists, gold hoop earrings, a fancy straw hat, and old fashioned sunglasses that concealed whatever emotion was lurking in her eyes, although the rest of her face was enough of a clue. A white lollipop stick protruded from her mouth and she appeared to be grinding the candy on the end with her teeth, by the sounds of it.
"Thanks, guys," she said dryly, "Jay promised to never let me live this down."
"We won't either!" Tosh gasped through hysterical laughter. She and Owen were practically in tears on the couch, a few moments away from rolling on the floor from laughing so hard.
"Aw, shut up." Sam scoffed. She strode away. "IANTO JONES! I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY!" She shouted.

Her undercover name was Simon Rodriguez, a rich person looking to invest in a new, possibly illegal business. She was to act as someone deeply entangled in the Mafia, one of its leaders even. Well, that would be easy enough, right? All she had to do was prance around, impress the workers, distract these Vic and Dale assfucks while the others saved the whale.
"You must be Mx Rodriguez." Vic, the younger and nerdier looking of the two brothers, said as Sam entered the room.
"Indeed," she said, slipping into a cavalier, uncaring tone, "let's get right to it, shall we?"
The brothers looked at each other, then Dale nodded.
"Go ahead." He said.
"I've noticed your business has been on the rise recently," Sam murmured cooly, "everyone on the market is talking about your miraculous meat that just keeps coming. All from this alleged 'Cash Cow'."
"How do you know about that?" Vic demanded, only to be silenced by a look from his brother. Sam smirked.
"I have many sources, dear boys," she replied, "many indeed. They could be within this establishment already. Maybe they know what this 'Cash Cow' is by now. Maybe they've already told me. Maybe I already know everything about your little operation here."
"So you know it's an alien?" Vic spoke up.
"Shut UP, Vic!" Dale snapped.
"Well it's obvious that they already know! Look at them!"
"You can't just go spewing information like this! You're useless! They could contact the police after this-!"
"GENTLEMEN." Sam cut in sternly, and both brothers fell silent again. She had them under her control. Good. "I assure you I don't intend to turn you in," she said, "in fact, quite the opposite. I want to help you. I'm willing to invest, watch this company grow. I understand at the moment you're selling meat to the entire city. But what about the entire country? The entire United Kingdoms? The entire world, even?"
"You could do that?" Dale asked.
"It would be easy," Sam mused, "I have allies everywhere, dear boys. Everywhere. I could make billionaires out of you both. But be warned; cross me and every trace of you will be erased. There will be no witnesses, no evidence, no trace of your bodies. Do I make myself clear?"
Vic was visibly shaking and Sam suppressed a laugh. This was fun.
"Yeah," Dale answered, sweating slightly but trying to hide his fear, "u-understood."
"Good," Sam said with a curt nod. Then she grinned disarmingly, "welcome to our little family, boys. I'm sure you'll fit right in."