Convergence

Chapter 2

"Well what on earth happened to you, Holt?" a man with salt and pepper hair asked, casting an irritated gaze towards Allafair, who had begun to chew much louder than before.

Allafair swallowed, making sure the man could hear the "gulp" as his pickle snack went down. "If I remember correctly, I was saving England...again, sir," Allafair answered with a smile. The woman beside him, the tag on the left side of her chest reading "Anya Devers", cleared her throat as she attempted to hide a look of amusement. Allafair smirked confidently, knowing he wasn't the only agent with negative feelings towards the head of the BRIT.

The man's nose turned up slightly, and he eyed Allafair angrily. "When I'm in the field, I manage to come back without a scratch, blotch, or any blemishes at all," he replied stiffly.

"With all due respect, we don't consider going to the grocer's as 'the field' anymore, sir," Allafair stated flatly. Anya pressed her hands against her hips, breathing deeply as she suppressed laughter. The older man was noticeably growing impatient. Very quickly. "Ian said something about a warehouse in Liverpool," Allafair continued, tossing another pickle into his mouth, finally satisfied with the measure of annoyance he had caused in the man before him.

"Right, thanks," the man said, his blue eyes flaring with disgust as he turned away from Allafair. Anya scoffed, shaking her head.

"You realize how much you tick him off, don't you?" she asked, watching as the older man ordered people about the room. Caution tape was stretched about in almost every direction imaginable. Allafair spotted a man in the rafters up above. He held a camera to his eye, and seemed to have the lens trained on Allafair. Setting the pickle jar on the ground, Allafair looked straight at the camera and struck a pose, flipping his hair back as if he were modeling his pickle-juice-splattered dress shirt.

The camera flashed, and both Allafair and the agent in the rafters laughed. The man above them waved, and the woman beside Allafair massaged her temples. "I am aware that Agent Patrick despises me, but luckily for me, he can't do a bloody thing to get rid of me," Allafair said to the woman. He moved to stand behind her, then pressed his own fingertips to her forehead. He watched as she slowly dropped her hands, then grabbed his.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, turning to face him, still holding his hands in hers. She looked flustered, and even appeared to be blushing. She raised her eyebrows for an answer, and Allafair raised one of his in reply. "You're hopeless, Mr. Holt. Hopeless!"

"Not hopeless," Allafair said, releasing her hands with a playful smile and gathering up his pickle jar. Anya couldn't help but smile back. Nearly every woman was unable to resist Allafair's rather alarming charm. Not to mention, he wasn't the worst sight in the world. Quite the opposite, some might have said.

"Perhaps not....but extremely annoying," Anya replied, turning away and walking off towards the group of agents that had gathered near the entrance to the warehouse. Allafair sighed, put another pickle in his mouth, then followed Anya.

"Team 1, report," Agent Patrick ordered as Allafair joined the large group of men and women dressed in black.

"Clear," a male voice replied. Suddenly, a muffled crash echoed through the building. Allafair snapped his gaze towards the back of the warehouse and was the first to begin moving. He went at a jog, snatching up the gun Seamus dropped when Allafair had knocked him out. As he approached the rear door to the warehouse, with Anya at his heels, he slowed his jog to a walk. He crept towards the door, more crashing and banging coming from outside. Another male agent, brown hair cut short with grey eyes, moved further than Allafair and gave him a questioning furrow of his eyebrows.