Disclaimer -- This is piece of fiction. There will be some bad language, violence, same-sex kissing and hugging, and if you dig deep enough, hopefully, an enjoyable little yarn of some merit.
Love is an evil word; just spell it backwards
The sun was just starting to rise, highlighting the waking world in warm golden hues. Beams of light stretched across darkly churning ocean waves, which seemed to hesitate for a second before they crashed into craggy, dark stone that shot almost straight up out of the raging water. The sunbeams of a bright new day sparkled off a lavish villa atop the cold bare stone long before the rays inched down the barren stone to the frothing waters below.
Casey snorted, "Not with those baby blues; they scream Anglo-Saxon."
Her little sister just gave a lovesick sigh. "I could just drown in those."
Yeah, Casey figured she could too, but drowning didn't sound all that healthy in a relationship. "So what does your new dream girl do?"
"She's a top secret special agent; like a female James Bond or something." Another heartsick love sigh burst out into the air.
"A what!" She just stared at her sister in horror, while her sister continued to stare at the TV in a way that was almost obscene.
"Yeah, isn't it great? I so want to be her Pussy Galore."
Casey ran a hand down over her face. "That's... do you know how just wrong that is."
Her little sister looked at her evilly. "I know. Just makes me want to do it just that much more."
Casey got that sinking feeling, which meant something, was going to blow up soon, probably messily, and in high volume, in her face.
Stacey rolled over and handed her now empty plate back to her big sister. "That was great. You're the best, you know that right?"
She simply took the plate and fondly patted he sister's unruly hair. "You're just saying that 'cause it's true."
"No I'm saying it 'cause I spent thousands on hiring chefs to train you in the art of the cooking that you love so much. I would hope you'd be the best." She rolled over in her huge bed swimming against the covers until she reached the cordless phone on the other side.
Casey just shook her head at the back assward complement her sister gave her. "Some day soon we're going to work on your tact."
Casey just quietly slipped out the door.
Shaken and Stirred
Blue eyes stared at the swirling currents of chocolate liquor that were moving around seductively in her chocolate martini. She didn't normally drink but it was that time of the month and she figured one would make her more human and less likely to rip the head off any of her various assistants.
She tapped a manicured nail against the glass, unconsciously her foot tapped in rhythm with the noise. She frowned, still annoyed with the whole Washington DC thing. She knew she was the department figurehead, and as such it was expected that she do such things, but really, the next politician who grabbed her ass was going to get his nose shoved down his throat. Maybe she needed a cigarette. No, no, no. She'd stopped smoking three months ago, well except for that time last month but that didn't really count. She'd ended up having to make nice with some prince of some Middle Eastern desert sheikdom. Riding a camel for 8 hours in the desert, during the hottest part of the year just to return some snot nosed bratty prince was not her idea of fun. Sometimes she just didn't get paid enough.
She sighed and got up going to the bar. Sometimes it really sucked being the public persona of a super secret spy organization. She had once asked what the point of being super secret was if everyone knew who she was. The mysterious "Powers that Be" said that she brought in funding, and that you couldn't run an organization on peanut butter, duct tape, and chicken wire. Blue eyes examined the rows of shiny bottles of alcohol that were laid out before her, with a shrug she grabbed the pitcher of chocolate Martini's that Margo had left out for her and poured herself another one. She deserved it; she had met with that annoying American President, after all.
"Of course you have." The monotone voice seemed hardly sympathetic to her. "There's a couple of strapping young lads out here with what appears to be a botanical garden between them. Honey, why didn't you tell me you got laid and was it good?"
"You're blushing aren't you sweetie? Never mind that, get out here and sign for this damn garden so it can be moved to your office and I can start working on getting these strapping young lads phone numbers."
With a resigned sigh she let out a breath that ruffled her dark bangs and set her drink down on the table then marched out of her office. Her outer office looked like the garden gnome had gone ballistic. Flowers in baskets and vases were set on every available flat surface.
The only thing Nancy was capable of was gaping like a fish out of water, "All of this is for me?"
"Well, couple of the boys went back to their van for more so."
"Oh my God."
Margo's eyes lit up devilishly. "So were you saying that or was she?"
She chose to ignore that statement. Long skinny fingers reached over and she deftly plucked a card from the nearest bundle of flora and fauna. Opening the card she frowned at the inside.
"So sweet cheeks, I can tell by the frown on your face that these aren't from the person you were hoping for."
With a roll of her eyes, she lowered the card and snorted. "I'm not expecting flowers from anybody; my last date was with Sarah." At the blank stare she prompted, "From purchasing."
Margo's face quickly transformed so it looked like she had sucked on a lemon. "Oh, yes, the woman who was in denial of her straightness. I swear she only dated women cause she hated men so much that her only option left was to suck it up and date the female of the species."
She laughed at that. "Oh, Margo that is priceless. Most of the world assumes we, as in me, as in my lesbianism, hate men."
"Oh sweetie, you have enough guy friends to form a football league, and most of them would look fine in those tight pants." The office assistant was practically drooling as she went off into her own little happy place that involved whipped topping and tight football pants. After a minute she came back to reality. "Oops, sorry there sweetie. So again, who are they from?"
"It doesn't say, but the big black heart drawn in the center of the card is a big clue."
Margo sucked in a breath. "No shit?"
"I shit not."
"Why would they... ." The office assistant's eyes got huge and she triggered a big red button under her desk. In seconds alarms were sounding, bars were drawing up over windows, the flower delivery boys were being rounded up by six large burly men with no necks, and Nancy Steele was standing in the middle of the room pinching her nose. She looked at Margo and gave a thin unamused smile. "Shall we go to the decontamination showers and then head to isolation until the doctors can poke and prod us?"
"Sounds lovely sweetie, I'll bring pie, it will be like a picnic except without the ants." The woman said drolly standing up from her desk.
She loves me, she loves me not
"So was my order delivered?"
The sun was out shining over the water, it was beautiful, the stunning blue of the sky and ocean merging seamlessly.
"What? Testicles? Oh, heh, not that delivery." Stacey paused for a second. "Um how did that go by the way? Oh good, I'm glad Beznikie Brothers got my point." A voice droned on and on, on the other end of the phone. Stacey flipped over on the lounge chair she was laying on, and stretched her petite frame. "Any way back to my needs." She interrupted. "The flowers? How did that go?"
An ominous silence was her answer then the voice tentatively started to speak.
Stacey Blackheart's face started getting red until she finally exploded. "What do you mean complications? What do you mean lock down and decontamination? You're telling me I spent a lot of money for those flowers just to have them fumigated and thrown in the incinerator? Fuck!" She chucked the phone. It flew over the sheik polished brass railing and fell into the water below.
With a great sigh, her head flopped onto her hands, her dark hair spilling out around her. After a moment her head shot up and she bellowed. "Minions!"
Three men and one woman burst out on to the observation deck guns drawn.
"Put those away. Get suited up and find my phone. It, uh, accidentally got tossed over the rail."
Only years of practice prevented them from rolling their eyes. As a single hive mind they snapped to attention and said. "Yes, Ms. Blackheart we'll get on that right away."
Stacey pointed at the smallest of the three men and snapped her fingers. "You, um... ."
"Daniel," he supplied helpfully.
"Daniel, give me your cell."
He drew it out of his pocket, but hesitated a second. "Is it going to take long? It's off peak time... ." He trailed off nervously. "Um, here ya go."
She smiled, but it made her look more like a rabid chinchilla with gas.
"Thanks now go swim or something," she said waving them off.
She dialed and spoke into the phone. "Ken? Yeah it's me. Nah, my phone just died that's all. So my flowers... ."
Casey looked up as people stormed by her kitchen like their asses were on fire. Considering they had come from upstairs, which was her sister's lair, it was very possible they were. Depending on Stacy's mood.
"Cell phone, water," one minion huffed out as he passed.
She just threw a knife; it cut through the air sticking in the door jam vibrating. "Out of my kitchen. You carry disease, dirt and other unclean things. My kitchen is a place of cleanliness you heathens."
The last minion running through her kitchen yelped in surprise at the knife and ran faster.
Casey just grinned and shook her head in amusement. She went back to preparing the lemon chicken that was for dinner. A few minutes had passed before Stacy appeared in the kitchen. Casey was well aware her sister was there, but knew that Stacy would talk whenever she was ready.
Humming softly, Casey worked around her sister, while her sister puttered with gadgets. Every once in awhile Casey would firmly take stuff out of Stacy's hands, like a whisk, can opener, garlic press. The egg timer that Stacy kept dinging over and over she just stabbed with a knife in annoyance.
Stacy's mouth dropped and she looked from the dead timer between her fingers and her sister. "What the hell? You could have lopped off one of my fingers."
Casey snorted and put the chicken in the oven. "Unlikely. I only asserted enough pressure to pierce the timer not punch all the way through. You know my rule about being in the kitchen."
Stacy snorted. "Oh, yeah, that. Not to. But I own this place, I should get to do and go wherever I want." She started fiddling with the shiny new blender.
Casey walked over to her sister and smacked her hands, "Ten percent rule. Now leave it alone."
"Owww!" The shorter sister whined before sulking away. After a moment her head peaked back in the kitchen. "Hey what's the ten percent rule?"
Casey smirked from where she was smashing potatoes. "You have to be at least ten percent smarter than the object you are trying to operate."
"Hey! I could have you killed."
"And I could give you food poisoning," Casey countered looking at her sister. "You are not a big tough Blackheart thug, not with me, and not here. Go swing your mob boss weight somewhere else," she chastised.
Stacy sighed and looked down for a moment, "I love you, you know? You're family." Then the dark haired head disappeared.
It wasn't an apology. She was fairly certain her sister was allergic to those, but it was as good as it got. Whistling, she went back to smashing potatoes.
"I sent her flowers." Stacy's voice floated in behind her.
Ah, the crux of what this was all about. "Sent who flowers?"
"That hot super agent. The one that was on the TV."
"I see." This could only end in tears. Scratch that. Blood, this could only end in blood.
"When you like a girl you're supposed to send them flowers. I read that on some Internet web site. Apparently telling them you are a Crime Overlord isn't in the top ten, although I find it works most of the time."
Casey sighed. "It works with girls like the Green Conifer. I'm fairly certain it doesn't work on women like Ms. Steele." She waited a moment but when there was no further information she asked, "How did Ms. Steele take your overture of undying love and devotion?"
"See, I don't get why flowers represent undying love? You've basically given someone a dying object that no way represents undying love," Stacy replied, her forehead wrinkled in thought.
"Ten percent," Casey muttered under her breath. "You're dodging the question."
The younger sibling sighed walking into the room and flopped with a boneless grace onto a chair. "Apparently the flowers caused wide spread panic and neurotoxin testing."
"I see." Yep, buckets of blood. "So, I guess that's it then. Sounds like a not interested... ."
"She just doesn't know the real me," Stacy broke in. "Maybe I should go sweep her off her feet. Show her a night on the town."
Casey turned, holding the potato masher out towards her sibling. "If you go anywhere near that Super Spy Headquarters I will... ." bits of mashed potato flung off as she punctuated her points. "I will do... something, and it won't be pleasant."
"You can't tell me what to... OW!" She suddenly held her nose. "I, can't believe you hit me in the nose with a potato masher."
"Do something stupid and I'll take it to your ass. I swear you weren't given enough corporal punishment as a kid."
Stacy flipped her the bird and stormed out of the kitchen.
Casey sighed and looked at the framed photo of their parents that she had on the counter. "I wish you were here mama. She listened to you. I try so hard, and trust me I look out for her just like I promised, but she makes it so difficult."
There's stocking and then there's stalking
It had been a week since the flower incident, which had turned out to be a big old false alarm. Her more annoyed co-workers were still sending her their bill for dry cleaning. The whole thing was leaving her and people higher up in the agency feeling off kilter. Who had sent them? Was it really one of the Blackheart Gang or was it some sort of prank?
As far as she knew, she hadn't ever had any run-ins with the Crime family. The Blackhearts were just about on every police agency watch list. The Family however, demanded fierce loyalty that nobody was anxious to break. The whole world had seen what happened when that loyalty was broken by an associate who had been caught by the Americans and had betrayed William Blackheart and his wife Carol. This associate, a Jesus Santiago was at best a middleman, of no real importance, except he was in the know that William and his wife would be visiting San Diego to check on things. The Americans had set up a sting that had turned into a blood bath. William and Carol had left 2 children orphaned and a void in the criminal underbelly. The whole world waited for the bloody fallout as other crime families sprang into action to fill that void, only it never came. It was reported that the youngest daughter had stepped up, murdering Jesus, and leaving his severed head on the flagpole of the FBI office in Washington DC, as a warning. Not much was known about the daughters except for some grainy surveillance photos.
But the whole head on a flagpole thing was a pretty good indicator that she really didn't want either daughter's full attention.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Margo asked her, "So sweetie, was it everything you imagined and more?"
"Huh?" She blinked and tried to figure out what Margo was talking about. The office smelled strongly of bleach and other cleaning products, the smell was so sharp it brought tears to her eyes.
"Yeah, I know, I'm thinking of requesting some gas masks or at least going to that dollar store down the street and getting some scented candles. So anyways, was finally seeing me naked all you imagined and more. Will I be feeding some late night fantasies?"
Nancy's lips immediately shriveled up making it look as if she had bitten into a lemon. "Eww, Margo! I was too busy hyperventilating to notice anything."
"Yeah, my body can have that effect on people."
Her expression didn't change. "God I'm going to have to give myself a mind wipe now," she muttered stalking past her laughing assistant. "One of these days Margo I'm going to send you back to the secretarial pool and inflict you on somebody else."
"You keep telling yourself that, sweetie," Margo said drolly before picking up the phone and ordering someone to go get some scented candles, preferably vanilla, it matched her boss's outlook on life -- boring, predictable, and utterly vanilla.
She was bored, utterly and completely bored. She had been taken off all current cases, until the whole Blackheart thing could be straightened out. She had finished the last of the paperwork she had been saving for a better time, an hour ago and now found herself with nothing to do. God, what she wouldn't give for an international incident right now.
Flipping on the small TV in her office showed her the world was still in one piece, more or less, and after a few minutes of channel surfing was fixated like a train wreck on a talk show about women who had slept with Bigfoot. Apparently the big hairy Sasquatch really got around; a couple of the women had large hairy babies to prove it. For an hour her brain was turned to mush.
As the credits of the show ran, she blinked and looked at the clock on the wall; it hung slightly off center, which bugged her. Maybe she would get around to fixing it today, since her social calendar was a wasteland. With a sigh, she hit the intercom button. "Margo, I don't suppose we have anything going on today at all?"
"Sorry, sweetie, I know how you hate to be inactive but I've got nothing. We are stuck at desk duty until further notice, but I've got the high score on this computer pinball game."
"Oh good, I'd hate to think we were wasting your talents," she replied with a laugh. "Okay I think I'm going to lunch and then maybe some shopping."
"Buy something sexy then go to that Lesbo club you use to go to all the time and pick someone up. Have a good time, get lucky then tell me all the juicy details, that way I have something to look forward to tomorrow."
Nancy's blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and she released the button. She gathered her purse and coat and left her office. She didn't quite storm out but it was close. "I'm leaving now," she said in clipped tones.
"Yes, sweetie, I can see that," Margo said not looking up from her computer. "Remember, sexy."
She slammed the office door.
As she walked towards her favorite Italian restaurant, she noticed a mother with a stroller trying desperately to wave down a cab without any luck. Feeling like she could at least do one good thing today she walked over. "Hi there. Can I help you?"
The frazzled looking woman looked around, and then gave her a grateful smile. "Oh thank you, I thought I would be here all day. Can you watch Stanley here for a second while I go flag down one of these idiots?"
She didn't really want to watch the kid, "I was actually thinking I could go wave down a... ." but the young mother was already stepping off the curb, hands waving. "Okay." She walked around to the stroller and knelt down. "I hope you end up brighter than your mother." She blinked for a second her mind not quite processing what she was seeing, but it was ugly and hairy, and as the needle pierced her skin her last thought was - Bigfoot baby.
Stacy was laughing so hard she thought she might pee her pants. "Oh God, she really fell for... ." She rolled off her bed and continued writhing around on the floor. "For the midget in the baby stroller. I love that one."
The voice over the phone barked something, and the Crime Lord tried to contain her laughter and respond. "Yes, I'm sure midget isn't a politically correct term, but I'm fairly certain kidnapping and cutting off someone's family jewels isn't either."
The voice went silent then said something along the lines of 'I see your point.'
"So where is she?" Stacy's eyes lit up. "Really, already? Excellent I'll be down in few to greet our new guest."
With a smile she went into her walk in closet and began picking out clothes, ones that screamed 'I'm a Badass'. Women loved a badass, whether their kink was men or women, they secretly all lusted after the bad boy or bad girl. Dressed to a T, she tested her breath and then with a leering smile she started whistling on her way down to the cells.
She got to the cell that Nancy Steele was being held in and frowned. "She's still unconscious how am I supposed to sweep her off her feet if she's knocked out?" She turned around glaring at the minions present.
A couple of them shrugged before the smallest spoke up. "Hey so what, boss lady." He had been the 'baby' in the stroller, and Stacy had to wonder how anyone could have been fooled. He was about the hairiest man she'd ever seen. "I gave her a full dose, I figure those super spy types take meds to boost their immunity to that shit. She'll be fine, it's non-fatal in 98% of the population."
Stacy could feel the vein in her head throbbing. "I am going to go get some ice cream. I expect you all to be gone except for Carlos and Suzanne when I get back." She pointed to Carlos and Suzanne. "You two are on guard duty." With that she turned on her heels and left.
Casey was working on a cake for a minion; it was his kid's birthday. The kid was a big fan of some TV show called the DoodleBops. After much Internet research and recovering from the horror of finding said website, she was now in the process of making a cake that looked like the three alien, prime colored, kiddie rock stars. She wasn't certain if her sanity would survive the endeavor.
She didn't even bother to look up when Stacy came barging in and started rooting around in the freezer. "Did we loose another bet to the Vesputian Family again?"
"What?" Stacy asked looking up, holding a pint of mint chocolate chip. "Oh, no. We still control Panama."
Casey frowned but said nothing going back to her cake.
Stacy found a spoon and stood in the middle of the kitchen not really looking at anything, just eating ice cream. After a moment she calmed down and started daydreaming. As day she dreamed, she started unconsciously humming a Jimmy Buffett song.
Before she really knew what was happening, Casey realized she was humming along as well. After a moment she realized what song it was and looked at her sister in horror. Her face turned red in anger and she slammed frosting on to the counter. "Damn-it Stacy, I told you to stay away from that woman."
Stacy paused; spoon stuck in her mouth, and said, "Whath?" around the spoon.
"I told you, stay away from that woman."
"Huh? Wait how did you know? I specifically gave the minions orders you were not to know. Besides you said I wasn't to go anywhere near that Super Spy Headquarters'. I didn't go anywhere near it." She smirked at her own brilliance.
Casey was a little hurt her sister would deliberately keep her out of the loop. "I know because you were humming, 'Why don't we get drunk and screw' you only hum that when there's a woman involved. The only woman I know you want to be involved with is that Nancy Steele woman. So where is she?"
Stacy immediately scooped up a large blob of ice cream and stuffed it in her mouth and said. "Donth sthrss."
Casey wiped her hands, took her apron off, and walked out past her sister. As she passed her, she smacked her in the back of the head. The spoon popped out and hit the floor with a wet smack. "Clean that up," she said in parting.
Stacy grumbled but got a paper towel.
First thing she noticed when she got to the holding cells was that Carlos and Suzanne were unconscious, and she knew the second thing she would notice was that the cell that was supposed to hold one Nancy Steele would be empty. She looked over. Yep, it was empty. She heard the elevator doors open behind her and her sister's light tread on the floor. "Fucking great," she muttered.
"Now Casey, don't be mad... where is she?"
"Stacy, the new great love of your life has escaped," Casey, said annoyed as she turned to go back upstairs.
"What the hell? Hey where are you going?" she shouted at her sister.
"Back to my kitchen. I have a cake to finish, and you my little stalker have a super spy to catch."
"Son of a bitch," Stacy roared hitting the panic button, before she went over to the two unconscious guards.
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