The Agency

IV. home

A/N: Check out Virginie and Colette's apartment! Isn't it beautiful? Please note that Colette and Vivienne are the same person. I will be changing it throughout the novel in the future but for now, just know Colette is Vivienne. I changed it because a lot of people told me Virginie and Vivienne's names were too similar. Colette's name also has meaning now.

A loud honking from the street brought Virginie back to reality as she saw a car parked on the curb a couple feet away from her. She knew it was Colette. She got up with care, trying not to further injure herself.

She waved goodbye to Iris who sent her off with a wink and "See you at your next appointment!"

Virginie opened the door of a small black Honda civic and slipped into the front seat, not wanting to glance at the angry face of her friend.

Colette's terra-cotta face was scrunched up in frustration as her arched eyebrows were knitted together. Her bright green eyes burned with questions and her heart-shaped lips were pouted like they were whenever she was annoyed. Her pink stiletto fingernails tapped impatiently against the worn wheel as she waited for an opening in the street so she could start driving back to their apartment.

The car was warm and the seat was heated. The temperature wrapped around Virginie like a blanket and made her feel sleepy. She hadn't realized how tired or dizzy she was until she got in.

Colette stared at her, full of frustration as she pressed on the gas to head back to their Upper West Side apartment.

"Stay awake, idiot," Colette quipped, shaking Virginie. She could see her friend losing consciousness. She knew that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if she passed out, but she didn't want to take any chances. She didn't know how bad her wound was. Judging from Virginie's energy level, it had to be considerable.

"I'm awake," Virginie mumbled back, her body almost limp against the seat. Colette fought back the urge to cry. She knew Virginie would just make fun of her. But Virginie worried her, especially in times like this. Virginie worked herself too hard. The stomach bug she had yesterday had quickly passed but Virginie would hear nothing of it. She went anyway. Now she was half conscious and rapidly bleeding on her front seat.

Colette took a deep breath and tried to focus. New York traffic wasn't something to ignore and she needed to get them back ten minutes ago. The early morning rush wasn't doing her any favors.

"So, how did it go? Did you save another life?" Colette asked, trying to keep her voice even. She had to keep Virginie talking so she could stay conscious.

"Alex...is safe," she mumbled, her eyes opening and closing like an old dog about to fall asleep. "It was Les Joueurs...I need to find out more information..."

"Les Joueurs? Are you fucking kidding me? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

Virginie smiled and Colette blew out a deep sigh. She would be fine. "They're too scared of me...you should've heard them...'femme fatale,' they whispered...it was like they had seen a ghost."

"You know the boss babies you too much and he's gonna kill those guys, right?"

"Good," she replied, sounding satisfied. "Then Alex will be safe."

Colette rolled her eyes. She knew Virginie didn't mean that. Virginie hated it when people tried to fight her battles. Even when it came to people who were trying to kill her. Her half-conscious state had her saying all kinds of nonsense.

Virginie cared too much about people. She hated to admit that she had feelings but Colette knew her too well. She couldn't let anybody innocent get in harm's way.