agent 99 - h.s.

nine

The flight to Paris goes much slower than Violet likes. The two Agents haven’t been on speaking terms since the night at the hotel, and this flight does nothing to change that, causing the entire ride to pass in excruciating absence of conversation, except of course for the snoring man to the left of Violet’s middle seat (Harry takes the window seat, and if they were talking to each other, she definitely would have fought him for it, but alas, they weren’t).

Soon enough, their plane lands and the quiescent partners go their separate ways in the airport. Bolton instructed the two prior to their departure that Harry is to meet Zayn at the French Embassy building to cohort with officials about the status of France in Revolution terms, while Violet goes to the Paris branch with Iris to get caught up on the rudimentary details of their mission.

The interior of the Paris Agency is similar to the London branch – off white walls, looming ceilings, and freshly polished floors – but Violet barely catches sight of any of it.

Violet is bombarded with boxes as soon as she steps through the door of the Paris Agency, courtesy of Iris. The boxes filled to the brim with files block her vision so much that she nearly runs into said walls. Iris pays her no mind, rounding countless sharp corners and continuing to blab along the way.

“It’s the 125th anniversary of the installation of the Eiffel Tower. The French president is hosting a lavish party on the top deck this evening, and we are the guests of honor.”

“Guests of honor? We’re supposed to lay low,” Violet says, voice muffled by cardboard.

“‘Guest of honor’ is just a figure of speech,” Iris says, exasperated. “The French president knows we’re coming, and we’re supposed to meet him after we complete the mission. Due to Niall’s scavenger hunt through the files, they heard a long time ago that Victor planned on stationing one of his associates here for the event – to get to the president or another government official, we don’t really know. But they’ve had an ample amount of time to prepare to stop the associate, which is why Bolton sent us here.”

A small smile graces Iris’ lips. “Operations here are so much smoother here than in London. No meddling with other Agents or half-brained research assistants. For once, we’re given the mission and that’s that. It’s a great feeling.”

“Niall’s smart,” Violet is quick to defend him, but then lowers her voice. “Even if he does use certain medications for unintended purposes.”

“Don’t forget recreational herbs,” Iris adds.

Violet pretends she doesn’t hear the comment. “If operations are so smooth, what’s all this for?” She pauses to blow a strand of hair out of her face. “And why aren’t you carrying anything?”

Iris looks at her incredulously, almost offended. She points to the topaz blue pumps on her feet. “Louboutins.”  

“Right. Of course.” Violet takes her sweet time rolling her eyes, making sure Iris sees her. By the increase in her pace, Violet guesses she did.

“You could at least slow down,” Violet groans. She tries to cut by the corner to limit the space between them, but one of the boxes clips the corner of the wall, sending the entire bundle into a heap on the floor.

Iris whips around at the noise, only to shut her eyes again. Violet braces herself for Iris’ all too familiar wrath, but the blonde is (thankfully) cut off by Niall’s approaching figure.

“Oi! What are you doing with those?!” He yells between the two before stooping to collect the stray papers.

Violet blinks. “Niall? How did you - what are you even doing here?”