Undercover (Phan)

Prologue

A/N: Hi, everyone! Welcome to my first official story!

IMPORTANT! This isn't going to seem like a Dan and Phil fanfiction AT FIRST. Once you keep reading though, once you get to like the middle of the Prologue or so, you'll understand where this is going, okay? Okay. Cool. Enjoy!

Agent Ten's POV

When I first kissed her - which would also be the last time I'd kiss her - she'd just gotten out of the dentist, so it was easily the cleanest and freshest makeout-session I'd ever had when I decided to lightly trace my tongue along her lips to see if she'd let me in, which she did with almost no hesitation. She didn't exactly taste minty, but she tasted clean. I hope the next girl I have to go after is an oral hygienist. I'd imagine all of their mouths are pretty clean. Or maybe I should just refuse to kiss girls from now on unless it's right after they've gotten out of the dentist. But what would the fun in that be? Sure, it's nice to kiss a girl when you know she hasn't been anywhere completely disgusting, but there's just something about the taste of hard liquor on a girl's lips after she's had one too many shots, or even the waxy taste of lipstick that although I may not be particularly fond of, I'm familiar with.

I sound like some kind of man-whore now. I suppose a man-whore would be better than the person I have to tell myself I'm not. Because I'm not that person. I'm just an average guy, doing his job. I have a job. A job and a boss and superiors. I'm good at my job. Head-Honcho even says he could see me being head of the department someday. Maybe even the whole agency. I'm sure he says that to all of us, but it makes me feel giddy inside to think that maybe he doesn't, that maybe he really only does say it to me and maybe he really does mean it when he says that I'm one of the best. A lot of people hate me for that, for being the best, but it's a burden that I'm happy to live with.

Right, right, the kiss, we're kissing a pretty girl. No distractions, no stray thoughts, just playing some good old fashioned tonsil-tennis with this girl I met only a month ago whom yet trusted me enough to drag her into the middle of the forest for a candlelit dinner I told her I'd put together. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. It was like I'd told her she'd won a million pounds. I feel bad for the poor girl on some levels. It's not even her that we're after, it's her brother. Nice guy, I met him at the door when I picked up his gorgeous sister for this date. Hopefully my night with his sister will send the right message and he'll give the agency what it wants. This girl that's just backed me up against a tree has no idea what she's in for, which I have to resist the urge to feel guilty about. I learned from a very young age that feeling guilt about these sort of things was unacceptable, but once in awhile, the emotion finds a way to tug at my heart-strings ever so slightly.

I should really break this kiss soon. It was nice at first, but now her hands have begun to wander and it's clear she's inexperienced. I've also been backed into a rather rough and pointy tree. This is a cool jacket, I don't want tree-bark-bits on it. Why do I even try making myself look presentable for things like this? I do my best to play the part, but sometimes I question if it's even worth it.

She clearly doesn't want me to, but I push Samantha off of me and manage a smile. She smiles up at me too, looking absolutely smitten. Her olive skin looked almost as pale as mine as we stood in nothing but the white glow of the moon above us, standing in a path that I'd told her was leading to this candlelit dinner of ours. Her green eyes showed her happiness and her shoulder-length blonde hair moved through the air as a cool breeze blew through it. She was only wearing a short-sleeved, pink dress that went to about the middle of her thighs, so she was probably a bit chilly, which showed as goosebumps began to protrude on her arms. She'd worn flats as opposed to heels on her feet since I told her we'd be walking around a bit, which made her quite a bit shorter than me - then again, almost everyone is shorter than me.