Russell Adler x Reader

One

Taking a deep breath of that fresh, mountain air, you grabbed a watering can and let it rain down on the bright buds if flowers that adored the patted way through your backyard.

You were living in a small town, away from noisy people and eyes that weren't supposed to see you. The population was mainly cows, some cheep and a hand full of goats that loved to annoy the shit out of you during nighttime.

The next human neighbour lived a good few miles down the country road and only ever passed by to ask you for favours like fixing a tire.

The house that the CIA had offered you was a nice farmhouse, with painted slats and a porch, big enough to host an entire football team for BBQ. Not that anybody ever visited.

All in all, this hideout wasn't a bad one. It was spacious, very green and offered enough opportunities to keep yourself busy but not too many options to be overwhelmed.

The summers smelled like flowers and the winters had the icy smell of mountain rivers running free.

Smiling to yourself, you let your  eyes wander over the fence, into the distance, where the herd was grazed through fields of perfectly green grass. Their mowing and screaming filled the silence and mixed with the singing of birds.

"Life like a fucking painting...", you huffed and shook your head. "American painting..."

The United States were the country you had been born in, but not the object of your true loyalty. Your heart was beating for something else, for a language that slipped off your tongue without thinking, for a message that you deemed worthy to to shed blood for.

But nobody here would ever know.

You were playing a role that was one of a lifetime. And you weren't allowed to fuck it up. Everything was going so well. Ruining all those years of hard work would have been more than shameful.

"Well, from nothing comes nothing.", you chuckled and walked around the side of the house to get to the other flowers.

You were still standing in the safe shadows as the figure of a man moved into the corner of your eye. Surprised, you stopped and waited for him to come closer.

A head full of bouncy, brown hair appeared, followed by a familiar pair of dark shades. The man was wearing simple blue jeans, some dark leather shoes and a grey t-shirt, underneath a black jacket. He was way too fancy dressed to blend in with the locals.

Only the lit cigaret that dangled between his plump lips made him seem human enough to not be shot right away by some rednecks.

At the sight, a soft smile appeared on your lips. There was only one man that was able to look so deeply, cliché American.

And yet, his appearance made your heart beat faster.

Even thought you weren't allowed to feel any kind of emotions towards the Americans, you couldn't help but like this particular man. He had a personality that needed some time to get used to, but once you had managed to get underneath the hard shell, he had turned out to be quite enjoyable company.

With a broad smile, you walked up to the front gate and leaned against it to watch what he was doing.

With medium interest, he slowly walked across the sandy area and let his gaze wander over the shed that was located next to the house, the carport where your old truck was parked and finally came to a stand in front of you.

He didn't say a word, didn't greet you nor did he do any attempt to show that he was glad to see you again.

Instead, he took a few drags of his cigarette, blew the grey smoke into the blue sky and threw the halfway smoked thing away.

"Didn't expect you to turn into a hillbilly.", he finally said in his low, calm voice.

Laughing, you shook your head.

"Trust me, that's the furthest away from what I truly am.", you said and gave him a welcoming bump to the shoulder. "Glad to see you again, Adler."

A slim smirk appeared on his lips. The movement made the scared side of his face twitch and pull together a bit.

"Glad to see you again too.", he said and grabbed you by the shoulders to take a closer look from all sides.

Russel Adler, a CIA special agent, was your main target when it came to fulfilling your mission. He was a middle aged man, tall and well build, with especially impressive shoulders and arms.

If there would be a picture of THE American man, it would look like him.

You two had a long history of cooperations, war experiences and other things. Over the years, you had become close enough to call each other friends.

"You look well.", he said and let go of you. "Nice little place you got."

You huffed.

"Wasn't my pick, but a good one nonetheless. Want to come in? I've got a cup of coffee that has your name written on it."

He shook his head, smirking.

"You still know how to get me."

"Always, Shades."

As the old nickname reached his ears, he stopped and raised an eyebrow.

Due to the fact that he constantly wore those sunglasses it was almost impossible to read Adler through the expression in his eyes.

But even after meeting him for the first time in the Vietnam War, you had been quick to realise that he talked with his eyebrows and the lower part of his face instead.

His lips curled when he was unsatisfied, pressed into a thin line when he needed to make a bigger decision and so on.

Ever since finding that out it had been easier to understand him, which was just one of many reasons why you two got along well.

Adler wanted something without saying it and you just knew without having to hear it.

"Haven't heard that one in ages.", he said and entered the garden.

You shrugged, raised your chin to meet his gaze and reached out with two fingers to push the low sitting sunglasses back up.

"Not ages, Russell.", you smirked. "Just a few years."

"Felt like a decade."

"Ha! Did you miss me?"

He let out a huff.

"Not your attitude, that's for sure.", he joked and gave you a playful push.