Undercover Lovers ~Syndisparklez~

Chapter 1

All he could see were the slightly shadowed figures of dancing drunks. The large, loud room was lit up only by multicolored lights flashing in a patternless rhythm, giving off the sense of organized chaos. Loud music pounded in his ears, and the illuminated figures of female dancers flaunting around poles were all around him.

The smell of extensive alcohol and cologne filled his nose, clouding his head a bit. He sighed as he straightened his sleeves and pulled his tuxedo shirt down over his belt, concealing the gun holster bouncing on his hip. Normally, he'd be at a nightclub to find some fun — maybe a few rounds of beers, some money spent with the dancers. But despite the ideas of many of those who knew him, Thomas Cassell wasn't too big on spending on nights. Besides, his job wouldn't exactly allow it.

He had a job to do, anyway. Tom guessed that he probably wasn't the first agent on the list to take this mission, because of his past interactions at nightclubs and bars. But he had one of the best discerning eyes in the agency, and if you were looking for a single man in the midst of hundreds of dancers and waitresses and other men, that's something you would want. Not to mention the constant flashing of lights in the darkness, which could get any normal person dizzy within minutes. But not Tom.

Casually, with a wry smile on his face to come off as normal to his peers, Tom pushed through crowds of people and tried to ignore the sweaty skin that he made contact with on multiple occasions. The heavy fumes of beer were really starting to hurt his head, but in order to look like he belonged here, he was making his way to the bar. He'd get a better view of the people, anyway.

He could feel the sweat making his black suit stick to his back as he reached the bar and hopped into a seat.

The bartender walked over, grinning, "What'll it be?"

"Shot of vodka," replied Tom shortly, craning his neck as casually as he could to try to look for the man he was supposed to be looking for.

He slid three bucks across the counter as he waited, lounging back with one elbow propped up. The music had changed to a much more dance-like song, with bass drops right and left. The lights flashed in time with the rhythm, and suddenly Tom thought he spotted a man who matched the description he was given, but the figure of a woman with hardly anything more than a small blouse and underwear on blocked his view before he could be sure. He leaned back, frowning nervously, as the woman sashayed over to him with a little smirk on her face.

"Hey, handsome," she purred as she put her hands on his thighs and leaned in, her dark brown eyes glittering dangerously.

Tom could smell the heavy liquor on the blonde's breath. He glared at her and twisted to the side, dodging a quick, hasty attempt at a kiss.

He grunted, "I'm taken, thanks." It didn't matter that it was a lie.

Tom was more than ready to claim that he already had a 'significant other' at any nightclub he went to in order to avoid any unwanted attention. Sure, more than half the time it didn't matter to the girls — or guys, even, sometimes — who were trying to take turns at him, but Tom always shut down the people who attempted to flirt with him.

"Doesn't matter," smirked the girl, who looked to be in her early twenties. Tom wrinkled his nose in disgust as she practically sat in his lap, tracing the outline of his face with a finger. He narrowed his eyes and made no moves as she continued silkily, "Don't you wanna get out of here?"

"I'll pass," Tom declined, shoving her back rather roughly. "Don't you have other guys to flirt with?"

The woman huffed and backed up, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure your 'girlfriend' loves you to pieces," she retorted icily, flipping him off and tossing her hair over her shoulder in the same motion as she pranced away from him without an ounce of shame or sign of dejection.