I Spy [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1 ~

I release the giant man from my chokehold and jump off his back. Sure enough, he slumps to the ground, knocked out for probably an hour or so.

Huge brute, he was. I feel a throbbing pain in my arm and find a large crescent shaped wound, dripping with blood.

The freaking bastard bit me.

I look around the office I'm in and spot a stack of watermelon-coloured post-it notes on one of the tables.

Perfect.

Grabbing a sparkly pen, I scribble a note for the bodyguard and slap it on his forehead.

"Biting's not nice, Fred."

I honestly didn't know what his name was, but he looked like a Fred.

I proceed into the room he was blocking off. Drawing my gun (don't worry, I wasn't going to shoot anybody, just pistol whip them or something), I inched further into the room, only to find the room completely unoccupied.

Frowning, I lower my gun just a tad bit, the well-oiled wheels in my head turning at hyper speed.

Now, why would anyone need someone to guard an empty room unless... Bingo. Right in the middle of a shelf sat a hard drive concealed to look like it belonged in the CD display. What kind of stupid idiot would leave a hard drive with coveted information out in the open like that. Jeez.

I take the hard drive and access the computer, quickly making a copy. I then wipe the original hard drive free of any traces of data. "Surprise, bitch." I mutter to myself. How I wish I could be there to witness the guy realising that his hard drive hasn't got his secret stuff on it.

Strolling out of the room with the newly copied hard disk in hand, I peer around the reception to make sure no one is around and proceed to take the elevator down and walk out of the building with much glee.

===========================

My abdomen hurt. It really did, considering I'd been laughing all the way until I walked into school with my best friend Reagan. Reagan knew about my undercover life, but it wasn't by conventional means.

Some time a couple of months ago, I'd returned home rather bloodied up with several bruises running up my arm and a deep laceration below my collarbone. My partner for that mission had been socked in the head leaving him unconscious and me to battle 3 knife wielding maniacs alone for about 15 minutes, which was more than enough time for me to get thoroughly slashed and beaten. I'd entered my room with every intention of grabbing a long sleeved shirt and first aid kid before making a run for the bathroom to minimise questions. What I didn't anticipate was Reagan sitting at the corner of my bed patiently awaiting my arrival. To say the least, I made a big ass entrance that day. Ultimately, "I got attacked by a cat" didn't cut it for Reagan, whose eyeballs pretty much never retreated back into their sockets for the rest of the afternoon.

"I can't believe you st-stuck a p-post it to his forehead," she spluttered in between laughs.

Flipping my hair, I curtsied twice. Some people might think that I'd rue the day someone else close to me found out about my secret identity. Contrary to that, I was relieved. The fact that I could share things contained within my secret identity wasn't something common amongst us spies, and I treasured the fact that I could.

Turning the dial to the code for my locker, I take deep breaths to calm my choking laughter. The screeching sound my locker door made as it opened nearly sent me into fits again, but I calmly resisted the urge as I shuffled through my books in search of my history notes.

"Vi."

My hands stilled in their search as my eyes shift to connect with that of Reagan. She jerks her chin in the direction behind me and I follow her gaze to see a guy staring at us. More specifically, me.

You know that moment when you catch someone looking at you and they immediately direct their haze elsewhere to pretend they never were? The tall boy's gaze never so much as wavered as we locked sights. I feel my eyebrows crinkle together as I stare down the brunette leaning sideways against a pillar, his stare still maintaining the same intensity. I sense rather than see Reagan looking between us curiously, until the bell rings, breaking our eye contact.

As Reagan and I turn to leave, I can't help but glance back again, only to see the boy's lean frame strolling away without a care.

What the hell was that?