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 Track Ops: Reflection

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Iliana
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:00 pm

"Assholes don't say please."

And the two were back at it as if nothing happened. As if she was not nearly killed by blood loss and as if Marce was not rammed in the side of his body by a car going about 40 miles per hour. Marce and Ace were obviously fighting hard to forget the acts of kindness, fear, and stupidity by going back at each other's 'Don't tick me off' buttons. Maybe seeing Bob first was not the best of things. Marce should have just ran his little errand while she was recovering and none of that disputing would have happened. Disputing may have been the wrong word to use there. It was more entertaining than anything. Underlying meaning, snarky remarks, and the occasion chuckle or two. Bob was right; this was starting to seem oddly like a sitcom.

"Unless its to the bathroom, no, we're not done here. I told you I have something to do and since I can't put you on a choke collar, you're coming with me. I'd hate to have you kill one of the Bureau over nothing on my watch." Marce didn't bother to add a serious frown after his remark. As much as Ace wanted to poison his water when he wasn't looking, she was still going to follow him regardless of whether she liked it or not. Bob's office was on the far back of the entire building, the exact opposite of where he needed to be. If it were up to him, Marce would have been in his office with Ace while she was still out of it, but he wasn't planning on having Bob's mass crash through the entrance doors, pointing his stubby fingers at Marce who was bent over the stretcher.

The walk was about 3 minutes total depending on how fast Ace planned on walking with her wounds and all. Again, for the millionth time in the span of 3 days, Marce sighed and rubbed his forehead to rid himself of invisible sweat, sighing heavily through his lips.

"You hugged me but never answered me. You okay?"he asked, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing his torn face. Marce was going through the same internal war of whether to continue to act like the asshole he apparently was and his mutual care for a woman's health. It was all a 'go with the flow' thing for him from now on.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:01 pm

Ace grinned at Marce's comment, glancing at him. It was true, she shouldn't expect him to be nice after she had just called him an ass in front of his boss. Fortunately she was in too good of a mood to care, and she had a feeling that he was just teasing her. Maybe. Hopefully.


Oh, fuck it, who cares?


"I think you'd enjoy that way too much," she commented, not indicating whether she meant the collar or killing off one of his comrades. She continued to follow after him as they went through the building, occasionally glancing in doorways with the appropriate level of curiosity. Of course, she and Marce were both likely aware that she had seen this whole building from the inside out already thanks to all of the cameras, but still.


Illusion is nice every once in a while.


Walking wasn't as uncomfortable as she had thought it would be, but that was likely thanks to the numbing gel that hadn't worn off yet. Later would be hell. She'd have to be sure to complain about it enough to make Marce be nice to her. What was that - twice now that she had saved his life? Maybe even three times, she couldn't remember. She wondered if it drove him crazy, thinking that he was in her debt somehow.


Probably not.


She was silent until he spoke again, making her glance at him in surprise. His face was turned away from her so she couldn't tell if he was being mocking or not. Uncertain, she looked away from him and half-shrugged even though he wasn't looking.


"I'm fine," she said softly, pausing as they stopped outside a door.


"I'm sorry, Marce," she added, looking away.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:03 pm

The two of them made it to an empty office that had a silver plaque reading 'Faulkner' engraved in black to incorporate the silver. He had barely even noticed that the two made it to their destination. A bundle of silenced seconds hushed through the gap between the two of them. Not a hushed cough or a pen dropping could be heard as they stood looking at a blank wooden door in front of them. A century of seconds passed before Marce decided to break the ice between them. It was far too long to pretend like he didn't want to tell her.

"I don't like it when your life is in danger. It's too early in the morning for me to explain, and I doubt I ever will." Marce's nose wrinkled and the mole above his lip moved along with the expression. The sappiness was starting to constrict his hardened outer covering that he naturally put around himself. It was getting....gushy. Marce didn't do gushy, and yet, he only lifted his head to stare stoically at the unopened door.

"I think you're insane."he said, face remaining unmoving like a painting forever captured in time. If Marce was a painting, he'd be abstract, going from one emotion to another. The man went through more mood swings than a woman in labor on an early Monday morning. "You saved the life of an trained American operative. I see no common sense in that. Makes me think you're in the wrong building. Not enough white walls enough for you."

Marce winced at his own words. Really. His eyes shut the minute they came out and a vein of frustration found its way to the side of his head.

"Thank you, Ace. You saved my life."he whispered, not moving his head but shifting his eyes to match hers. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm not saying it to please you or calm your cute little nerves."
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:04 pm

Did he just..?!


Turning back to stare at him in shock, Ace felt like she had been slapped with a frozen herring. He admitted that he didn't like it when her life was in danger. Well. He wasn't exactly doing a fantastic job at keeping her life out of danger, was he? She was only thinking about the incident on the boat where he had nearly drowned her - on purpose, mind! - but oh well. Admittedly he had been keeping her perfectly safe other than that since then and she had only gotten hurt because of herself, but still..


And I'm pretty sure it's not morning anymore, Marce..


She was stopped from making a sarcastic remark when he commented on her sanity. As if on cue, she grinned. So he thought she was crazy. Hardly surprising, but still amusing. She cocked an eyebrow as he explained why he thought so, finally laughing at his last comment.


"Oh? Hm. Well, I think that you're the one who needs to go get your head shrunk if you think that the rational thing to do would have been to stand there and just watch you get stabbed, Marce," she commented, her expression amused even though there was seriousness deep in her eyes.


She was silent for a few moments after he spoke to her, then she slowly shook her head and looked away again.


"I don't want your gratitude, Marce. I only saved your life because you're still useful to me until all of those little girls are home," she replied evenly, not looking at him.


It was a lie.


That wasn't why she saved him at all - it hadn't even crossed her mind when she stepped between him and Palon.


Did the truth even matter?

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:06 pm

"Heh, the rational thing to do. Somehow I didn't peg you as the kind of girl to think rationally about anything."he chuckled and it felt good. Yes. He felt good with Ace. Birds would have spontaneously combust if Marce whispered this fact to a Blue Jay, but he wasn't one to deny the truth. Even through the sarcastic remarks and unsaid words, Marce couldn't help but to feel his lips raise up each time Ace responded to one of his sentences. Her comebacks were clean and uncut, meaning the woman never sugar coated anything. What you heard was what you were going to get. Marce liked that about her.

Wait...he liked something about her?

Before Marce had the time and sanity to think on what he had only but just realized, a drop in her feminine voice drove a knife through his rib cage. She didn't want his gratitude. He had just defied some many boundaries that he, as a man and as Marce Jove, specifically set so that no one could get through. No one was aloud to crawl close Marce's heart or anywhere around it for that matter. He had been through too much; seen too many people die in front of him. It was not the price to pay when being an operative. It wasn't fair and it surrounded Marce's life like an ever brewing thunderstorm. Even the woman that was supposed to be his enemy started to sneak in close. Marce killed someone for her.

And there she was saying she didn't want his gratitude.

Man or not, Marce refused to let her walk away unscathed. He didn't give a damn how pompous and arrogant she thought he was, or even thought she was. Once his aquamarine eyes landed on the back of her head and dimmed in a far off pain, he let her see what it did to him when she finally would look at him.

The moment passed when Marce tore his face away from Ace and opened the door with ease. Once he stepped in, whatever was said two steps ago was locked away inside the mental bars of his mind, never to be opened in her presence again unless provoked. Alex said that the door would be unlocked, so the ease of access made it easier on him, just so that he wouldn't have to do the awkward fishing for the keys thing in his pocket. Once the two stepped in the dark office, however, he did the awkward fishing for the keys thing anyway. He dug the keys to her Crown Vic out of his pocket and placed it on her desk beside a mess of papers and another set of keys that belonged to him. Once in his hand, he grasped them, looking down at his closed palms before motioning with his head for Ace to follow him out.

He wasn't ready to talk just yet.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:07 pm

One of the best things that made Ace who she was and able to be good at what she did was that she could control her emotions with an iron grip. She had no conscience and didn't bother to censor herself. It made her an excellent hacker and made her fly through the ranks of her fellows. Honestly it was quite an accomplishment, especially when compared side-by-side with some sniveling excuse for a woman sobbing because her fingernail broke while applying makeup.


However.


In one look, when she turned to look up at Marce, he destroyed her from the inside out. The hurt in his eyes gave her such a blow of guilt that she almost flinched. She hadn't felt guilt or remorse over anything since.. Well, it had been a long time. Struck speechless that he would even care, she followed him into the office and just watched as he exchanged the car keys for a set that she assumed were his own.


Why did he care if her only motivation to keep him around was to do their job?


Shouldn't he be happy about it? He didn't like spending time with her and only wanted to strangle her..


.. Didn't he?


She silently followed him back out of the office and pulled the door closed behind her, then trailed after him without really paying any attention to where they were going. Back out to his car, she assumed. She wanted to say something, but now it really seemed like a bad idea. However, if he was refusing to talk to her, she could really use this to her advantage. He'd need to have an aloof and distant attitude..


"About that pit stop.."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:08 pm

The only business he had in the Bureau was to return Alex her keys and to get back in his car. Marce had one of the cops from Mc Donald's to follow the ambulance that held an unconscious Ace in it. Alex would have had a fit if she found out her car had been left at the scene of a murder crime. Alex did not like to be in the maw of the beast even if she worked with the government herself. She said it dint ink well on her reputation for keeping her hands clean. That was a joke. Alex had some secrets and Marce knew 2 of them for a fact. He didn't know if she knew that he knew, but it was perfect blackmailing facts. Marce had a good respect for Alex though. He wouldn't think of doing that to her.

He wouldn't think of doing a great many things to the people he held...close, one could say. Even in the midst of his barrier he created around himself, he had room for a friend or two. They weren't out for his blood and career, so why not have a drink or two with them? Bryson and Alex were the only ones he considered 'friends'. They were there with him his entire career and he didn't plan on having them leave. Not saying that Marce never had no one else in his personal life. He did.

He would never open his arms for anyone ever again.

The silence was finally broken by Ace once the two of them managed to get out of the building untouched and unquestioned. Bob must have locked himself in his office to mull over what he did wrong with the debate with Ace and how he could change. His snarky remarks had to get snarkier and his wits had to be about him. He might have even been thinking of more sitcom references to throw at her. Whatever the matter, he was in his office and the two of them were out of that building. Marce realized that not one peep had come out of his mouth since Ace had....been honest. The beeping melody of unlocked doors sounded a second later as both Marce and Ace stepped into the car.

"Where do you want to go?" That was it. Simple. Short. Not deep or confusing. Just...a question. His fingers slid over the steering wheel, gripping them softly. The car would remain off until Ace told him where the two of them were going. The woman was sneaky. She managed to keep an eye on girls that were millions of miles away. Who knew what tricks she could possibly have up her imaginative sleeve? At first, she didn't seem like the type to beat him over the head with a crowbar and take his keys. Now, however, there was a doubt there.

Congratulations, Ace. Now you've actually got me fearing for my life.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:09 pm

Ace got herself in the car and buckled her seatbelt in silence, almost flinching from the metallic click. This was fucking awful. She shouldn't have lied to him like that since it was apparently going to make him a mopey little brat. A moment later her thoughts relented and she mentally sighed. The only reason that she felt snappish at him was that she didn't understand. His mood confused her beyond belief. She had thought that he would be relieved that she did it for business and not.. any other reason.


He told her that he wasn't thanking her to make her happy or calm her down. So he basically told her that he was thanking her to be polite. How was rejecting his gratitude bad?! Why wasn't he happy about it, damn it?!


"The mall, first. You look like a cop," she said quietly.


Well, it was true.


He basically radiated his identity. Normally this would probably be a good thing since people would crap their pants and assume he was an authoritative figure. At the least, they knew he carried a gun. Right now, though, it was a problem. They couldn't make their pit stop unless nobody knew he was Marce Jove - and their destination held somebody who knew exactly who he was.


Time to fix the issue.


"I hope you aren't opposed to going temporarily under cover," she added, flicking her deep hazel gaze at him.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:11 pm

"Me? Opposing going undercover with you? Not at all."he remarked, feelings his lips curl up into the tiniest of smirks. "Change the temporary part and you've got me."

Though his body did 10 or so spasms at the words 'the mall', Marce instantly saw Ace's point and felt like a damn fool for not recognizing sooner. He did have the cop look about him, though he highly doubted seeing that change by a simple change of clothing. His face was hard and rugged like a statue, the only remnants of a kind man was through his smile, not his smirk. In a way, he was just as devious as Ace. He had no reason to hide his identity or to smother his title just because he could carry that weight. He could waltz around aimlessly with the 'I'm Marce Jove' frown on face and know for a fact that if anything went wrong, he'd handle it quickly.

Still, the woman had a point. It wasn't just about him anymore, if it ever was in the first place. he was harboring a fugitive, a criminal, an enemy, and an important piece to a much bigger, unimaginative world. A Merezon managed to get far closer than the two of them may have expected. They didn't necessarily needed to know the reason how; just to be as cautious as they could. Nothing had to be simply thrown to the side and left to worry about in a later time. Everything that could be potentially dangerous needed to be handled quickly and in the right way. It wasn't paranoia. It was safety.

"Tell me you're not going to dress me in some plaid Hollister shirts and shirt that'll suck my skin harder than a prostitute." Marce paused and darted his eyes away from the road and onto Ace, widening his smirk as they sped down the long Main Street towards the Decatur Centre Mall. "Not that I have ever been...you know, no. It's bad enough I have to go into the damned mall in the first place. At least let me pick out my own outfit. You can help with the boxers."he added, not trying to hide the challenging and underlining meaning behind his wide, white toothed grin.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:12 pm

Marce didn't like the mall.


It wasn't exactly surprising, but it was amusing.


She watched him spasming like some sort of protesting father figure who was being dragged along to go prom dress shopping. The mental image made her grin, and she effectively ignored his comment about going undercover. She didn't know for certain what he meant since he was a damned cryptic she-male with moodswings that could make the Mad Hatter dizzy.


"Oh, Marce. You aren't that lucky," she replied sweetly, eying him as he demanded to pick out his own outfit.


He was going to regret mentioning boxers, she swore to herself. Before she got too lost in daydreaming about stripping him down naked in a changing stall, she leaned back and gave him a smirk.


"No. You aren't allowed to pick out your own clothes and you aren't allowed to deny what I choose for you no matter what it is. I'm the one in charge today. You don't know where we're going and I refuse to have you mess it up just because you want to look like some sort of sexy mangod rather than the guy you need to be for this. And no, relax. I'm not making you into a woman," she said, then tossed him a coy grin as she stepped out of the parked car into the mall parking lot.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:15 pm

He suddenly wish he was depressed again.

Ace had caught onto his change of mood quickly and followed suit with her own sarcasm, just like they always did. Good ole times with Ace and Marce. This time she was taking it too far. Marce was very....picky about his clothing. He certainly didn't want to look like some mangod as Ace claimed. He thought he looked attractive enough without the painted on abs and lightening bolts sparking around his bulge. He just had a set liking for his clothing was all. Marce eyed Ace with caution when she added that he had to dress for 'something'. He immediately saw red lights.

"Woah. What? The mall isn't the only place we're going?"he spluttered, watching her step out of the car. To that very second, he had an extremely hard time getting used to the fact that she was a woman, and not just a woman: a damn good looking one at that. He remembered his impression of her clearly when he first found her at the bottom of the stairs in those apartments: crackhead. What kind of good looking lady would be lying on her back at the bottom of a rusted stairwell with tattoos crawling around her arms? Oh, the things he knew about her now...

Marce's eyes lingered for a second too long at the brown curls bouncing around her neck when realization slapped him so hard in the dick he almost winced at the imaginative pain: He had a thing for brunettes. Now that the awkwardness had finally nestled in place between the two of them, Marce Jove stepped from his spot, slamming his car door louder than anticipated, taking great care to listen out for the beep! beep! sound of the locking doors. His car was his baby. He had to make sure she was safe too.

"I have the strangest feeling you signed me up for a surprise strip mob just because you found out im an op."he commented, making his way smoothly across the crowded lot of the mall. Cars sat in place on either side of him, their owners having abandoned them for the Food Court and countless hours of window shopping. Shopping. Marce desperately hoped she had a 'grab and go' attitude about this change in attire thing.

"If so, then you're definitely picking out those boxers. My favorite color is gray. Just a heads up." Even though she dismissed all of his mysterious innuendos, Marce was who he was. She would either have to accept or deny it, eventually leading him to force her to accept it. He was okay with both, really.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:17 pm

Ace cocked an eyebrow and looked over at Marce, a smirk playing around the edges of her lips. Oh, this was going to be the most fun she had had in a long, long time..


"No, Marce, the mall isn't the only place we're going. Do you think I would beg you out of your foul mood just for a shopping fix and an urge to give you a one-outfit makeover?" she asked, in much the same tone that a mother would explain something to a child.


She strolled with him into the mall as if she owned the place, ignoring the fact that she hadn't stepped foot in this mall for over two years. It was all the same. The stores were different, the people were different, yet it was all exactly the same. Guys still stared, girls still scoffed, and she still felt like she had better places to be.


"If I planned on stripping you, Marce, I wouldn't give a mob the pleasure and it wouldn't be because of your awful job," she corrected him airily once they were inside, having given him silence when he voiced the comment. After, she gave him a sidelong glance and smirked openly. "And you're not getting gray. I'd much rather see you in black or red," she informed him, taking his hand to change his direction before releasing him and stopping.


"Stay," she said simply, then wandered into Victoria's Secret. There were chairs outside the store with other unlucky guys. Maybe he'd make friends. In the meantime, she scooped up a handful of things and used only her name to get billed later. Some things never changed. She laughed a little to herself and walked out with a large bag, nodding her head to Marce.


"Let's go. You need some serious help," she said, not waiting for a response before she strolled down the wide hallway. Turning into a store with screaming vocals and the definite smell of teen angst, she couldn't help but grin. Hot Topic - the one store that she could never picture Marce in. Yet, here he was. She took his hand and tugged him to the back of the store, then shoved him into a dressing stall and shut the door.


"Put on whatever I throw in to you. And I will be checking to make sure it's all there," she informed him, then went off to search the racks. Eventually she threw over a pair of baggy black pants, a random band tee, a slouchy artist-wannabe hat, a pair of Converse in what she guessed was his size, and a pair of bright red silk boxers that she had picked up at Victoria's. Smirking to herself, she leaned against the wall and waited.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:32 pm

He let Ace have the floor by not responding to much of what she said. This was her call. Marce was just the tag along puppy.

The mall, a woman's favorite destination according to modern day society. And why not? It had all the typical things women lavished themselves in: jewelry, clothes, accessories, and attention. The age range was from the most arrogant teen hand in hand with their partner to an old woman stepping up and down the stairs for her daily exercise. It didn't help that Decatur Centre was one of the biggest malls in that part of South East Georgia. It was nestled right off the exit of I20, in perfect distance for tourists to take a pit stop and explore its wares. It was approximately 25 minutes away from the Bureau and 40 minutes away from Marce's house, so he had fair reason to why he did not want to be there.

"Since when do I care what you'd rather see me in? Then again, why do you even care what you see me in?"he asked with a smile curling on the side of his lips while the two of them continued to walk straight ahead. "Is there something you're not telling me, darling?"he added with a raised eyebrow. The two of them had a good bit of distance between each other that could either have been really bad or really good. Marce could not help but to notice how closely people pack themselves when they're in the mall with one another. Apparently the gravitation pull had changed since he was outside in the air now that he had walked in the mall. He found himself stepping closer to her, close enough to have the small hairs on his arm brush against hers. If she questioned it he'd just say he was looking out for her. She took his hand just as he did it, springing a sheepish smile that he had not remembered he was capable of.

The smile he had instantly faded when his eyes were ransacked with a bulldozer of pink. Victoria's Secret or Hell's Dungeon, he liked to call it. Marce skidded to a complete stop when Ace walked towards wide open, glass double doors. Marce and Ace released hands like some kind of acid had suddenly found its way into their palms. She ordered him to stay like he was some sort of pit bull with the little pink thing hanging out and about.

"Woof woof."

He didn't even bother sitting down next to the other males. They all wore a string of scowls on their face. They could have been a triplets with how similar they all looked. Another couple or two passed him, giggling about something that wasn't funny but having the permission to lean on the other's shoulder as if they were going to flop straight to the floor if they did not have them for support. Envy filled his mind for the smallest second until he found Ace waltzing back out of the store with bags in one hand and a triumphant smile on her face.

He was doomed.

"I never asked for your help. I can pick clothes out by myself, Mother." His eyes kept sliding down to the hot and light pink stripped bag, wondering what she must have had in there. Victoria's Secret wasn't exactly a...casual store to go to do your clothing shopping at. There were giant posters of half naked women on the glass windows outside the store, for God's sake! Marce thought he could pull a Superman by swuinting his icicle eyes at the bag, but all he got was irritated tear ducts and a small blooming headache.

[size=18]"THE BEAST AND THE HARLOOOTTTTT!"


Marce's entire visage turned white as all the blood rushed straight down to the soles of his feet, weighing them down in place as the two of them stopped directly in front of the brick-placed, black and red store: Hot Topic. No. He snapped his eyes onto Ace to see her ushering her smirk away from her lips as she walked wistfully inside the punk rock paradise. Before he could chew her out all the way to her core, his hand was grasped by her own again and tugged to the back of the store. Marce was more than ten times stronger than Ace, though when she directed him inside the store, his body had suddenly turned light as a feather. A blast of abstract colors and shirts and strange fishnet...things...all began to swallow him whole.

"You don't really..." He never got the rest of his argument out before he was shoved into a dimmed dressing stall. If another man had been in there, Marce may have pancaked him with his body weight. "Ace--" he began before a pile of clothing fell over his bold black hair, an article or two falling on his feet. When he saw black he instantly groaned. Black pants that were a size smaller than he regularly was. Go Ace. He scrunched his face at all of the other pieces, but she had the right mindset. Wherever Marce was going, wearing denims and a tight, bold tan shirt on might as well had spelled 'GOVERNMENT'. He was beginning to think his brain was agreeing more with Ace than his conscious as of late.

He took his time stripping bare, careful to drop each article of clothing he had to the floor so that Ace could see the shadows. Whether she was looking or not, Marce was going to give her some say-so once the change was over. Gray boxers still on, his fingers grabbed the black pants that had landed on the tiny bench behind him when a sudden blur of red caught his attention. She did say she wanted him in black and red. He scowled down at the crumpled piece of clothing, bending down to pick it up. Once his fingers brushed against the fabric, however, he snapped his hand back and nearly hissed. It was silk. He did some more staring, half expecting for a woman to just appear in whatever it was, but that didn't happen.

Tentatively, as if the clothing were covered in maggots or something of equal disgust, Marce grabbed it and scrutinized its shape and structure, wondering if she accidentally threw in a piece of her own clothing. A hole was all the answer he needed.

He was going to fuck...her...up.

A few more minutes of silent swearing and one leg than the other and Marce Jove was done. He flipped the hoodie that was attached to the shirt over his hat, pulling the brim over his eyes before walking out. The first thing he did was crook his head up to give her the most sour expression he could muster.

"Enjoy this while you can."he said coldly, not hiding the bite and irritation in his voice, shifting his weight in the opaque pants that he actually managed to get his hands in the pockets.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:35 pm

He let Ace have the floor by not responding to much of what she said. This was her call. Marce was just the tag along puppy.

The mall, a woman's favorite destination according to modern day society. And why not? It had all the typical things women lavished themselves in: jewelry, clothes, accessories, and attention. The age range was from the most arrogant teen hand in hand with their partner to an old woman stepping up and down the stairs for her daily exercise. It didn't help that Decatur Centre was one of the biggest malls in that part of South East Georgia. It was nestled right off the exit of I20, in perfect distance for tourists to take a pit stop and explore its wares. It was approximately 25 minutes away from the Bureau and 40 minutes away from Marce's house, so he had fair reason to why he did not want to be there.

"Since when do I care what you'd rather see me in? Then again, why do you even care what you see me in?"he asked with a smile curling on the side of his lips while the two of them continued to walk straight ahead. "Is there something you're not telling me, darling?"he added with a raised eyebrow. The two of them had a good bit of distance between each other that could either have been really bad or really good. Marce could not help but to notice how closely people pack themselves when they're in the mall with one another. Apparently the gravitation pull had changed since he was outside in the air now that he had walked in the mall. He found himself stepping closer to her, close enough to have the small hairs on his arm brush against hers. If she questioned it he'd just say he was looking out for her. She took his hand just as he did it, springing a sheepish smile that he had not remembered he was capable of.

The smile he had instantly faded when his eyes were ransacked with a bulldozer of pink. Victoria's Secret or Hell's Dungeon, he liked to call it. Marce skidded to a complete stop when Ace walked towards wide open, glass double doors. Marce and Ace released hands like some kind of acid had suddenly found its way into their palms. She ordered him to stay like he was some sort of pit bull with the little pink thing hanging out and about.

"Woof woof."

He didn't even bother sitting down next to the other males. They all wore a string of scowls on their face. They could have been a triplets with how similar they all looked. Another couple or two passed him, giggling about something that wasn't funny but having the permission to lean on the other's shoulder as if they were going to flop straight to the floor if they did not have them for support. Envy filled his mind for the smallest second until he found Ace waltzing back out of the store with bags in one hand and a triumphant smile on her face.

He was doomed.

"I never asked for your help. I can pick clothes out by myself, Mother." His eyes kept sliding down to the hot and light pink stripped bag, wondering what she must have had in there. Victoria's Secret wasn't exactly a...casual store to go to do your clothing shopping at. There were giant posters of half naked women on the glass windows outside the store, for God's sake! Marce thought he could pull a Superman by swuinting his icicle eyes at the bag, but all he got was irritated tear ducts and a small blooming headache.

"THE BEAST AND THE HARLOOOTTTTT!"

Marce's entire visage turned white as all the blood rushed straight down to the soles of his feet, weighing them down in place as the two of them stopped directly in front of the brick-placed, black and red store: Hot Topic. No. He snapped his eyes onto Ace to see her ushering her smirk away from her lips as she walked wistfully inside the punk rock paradise. Before he could chew her out all the way to her core, his hand was grasped by her own again and tugged to the back of the store. Marce was more than ten times stronger than Ace, though when she directed him inside the store, his body had suddenly turned light as a feather. A blast of abstract colors and shirts and strange fishnet...things...all began to swallow him whole.

"You don't really..." He never got the rest of his argument out before he was shoved into a dimmed dressing stall. If another man had been in there, Marce may have pancaked him with his body weight. "Ace--" he began before a pile of clothing fell over his bold black hair, an article or two falling on his feet. When he saw black he instantly groaned. Black pants that were a size smaller than he regularly was. Go Ace. He scrunched his face at all of the other pieces, but she had the right mindset. Wherever Marce was going, wearing denims and a tight, bold tan shirt on might as well had spelled 'GOVERNMENT'. He was beginning to think his brain was agreeing more with Ace than his conscious as of late.

He took his time stripping bare, careful to drop each article of clothing he had to the floor so that Ace could see the shadows. Whether she was looking or not, Marce was going to give her some say-so once the change was over. Gray boxers still on, his fingers grabbed the black pants that had landed on the tiny bench behind him when a sudden blur of red caught his attention. She did say she wanted him in black and red. He scowled down at the crumpled piece of clothing, bending down to pick it up. Once his fingers brushed against the fabric, however, he snapped his hand back and nearly hissed. It was silk. He did some more staring, half expecting for a woman to just appear in whatever it was, but that didn't happen.

Tentatively, as if the clothing were covered in maggots or something of equal disgust, Marce grabbed it and scrutinized its shape and structure, wondering if she accidentally threw in a piece of her own clothing. A hole was all the answer he needed.

He was going to fuck...her...up.

A few more minutes of silent swearing and one leg than the other and Marce Jove was done. He flipped the hoodie that was attached to the shirt over his hat, pulling the brim over his eyes before walking out. The first thing he did was crook his head up to give her the most sour expression he could muster.

"Enjoy this while you can."he said coldly, not hiding the bite and irritation in his voice, shifting his weight in the opaque pants that he actually managed to get his hands in the pockets.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:40 pm

Ace leaned back against the wall, letting her eyes sweep the store absently as she waited for Marce to get over his fit long enough to change. She had honestly thought that he might go into shock and start spasming on the floor when she first brought him in here. It made her wonder if he'd stare too much if she were to change with him to fit the part more. The thought had merit, she realized. In her shorts and tank she looked more at place in Abercrombie than in here. Sighing a bit to herself, she left her spot and got her own ensemble.


"I don't believe in fairy tales and no one wants to go to Hell, we've made the wrong decision and it's easy to see," she sang quietly to herself with a small grin. Of course it would be this song..


By the time Marce opened the dressing stall door, she had changed and was leaning back in her spot so that she was probably the first thing he'd see. She had traded in her tank top for a black corset-style top that laced up the back with a bright red ribbon. The skirt that took the place of her shorts was startlingly short but it didn't reveal anything that it shouldn't - also black, of course. She had skipped the hooker boots idea and just gone with plain flats, and she had a hoodie draped over her arm.


"I have every intention of doing just that," she retorted as he snapped at her, not bothering to hide her grin as her eyes roamed over him.


Damn. Marce Jove made one sexy deviant.


She dropped the hoodie on top of the Victoria's bag and the bag that held her normal clothes, having already purchased the ones that she wore along with Marce's - she had taken the tags before hurling them at him. Tilting her head a fraction, she moved closer to him to inspect him closely. It all seemed to be there, but, there was one thing she couldn't see him wearing..


Hooking a single finger in the waist of his pants, she tugged slightly and drew them down a fraction of an inch until she spotted the bit of red.


Score.


She laughed softly and backed up, picking up her stuff and giving him a grin. He could have not put on the boxers and protested that it had absolutely nothing to do with going undercover since nobody would see them. Yet, he was wearing them. The only downside was that now she couldn't stop thinking about what he would look like if that's all he was wearing..



"Come on. Let's get out of here before you start to enjoy yourself."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:42 pm

The hoodie in her hand had momentarily saved is life and his career. It could have taken a bullet for him for all that he knew, shielding his person from the barrage of any oncoming attack. Just in it's fabric and color, Ace's hoodie may have been Marce's best friend if it were not an inanimate object. The two would have gone out for a drink or two, had one of the best conversations on memories, work, and women. All like a true bro. It may have even replaced Bryson!

If...it hadn't moved out of the way.

Woah.

Marce felt as though he'd just taken a hard hit to his midsection. The sight of her knocked the air out of them once the hoodie moved to revealed what she was wearing. Long brown curls swayed around her shoulders when she walked towards him, and her body - my God! her body - was sheer perfection. She was wearing flats that kept her form neatly on the ground, making her legs look more like two silk ribbons then a combination of skin and muscles. Her skirt was dangerously close to ending at the very curve of her hips, amplifying her body by ten times more than he thought a skirt would do to her. If there were any flaws, Marce couldn't find them, but he was still determined to search. Determined enough that he never kept his eyes off of her until he finally realized that she was touching him.

That was bad. Marce felt a pang of pleasure and something else the instant her fingers brushed against the waistline of his black pants. Just the mere touch of her and Marce was forced to follow her hands with his eyes. He was tempted to push her back and point at her like a little child and scream "Cheater! You're a cheater!", but it was all fair, wasn't it? If possible, Ace was more beautiful up close since he did not a lot of time to admire her petite face and her light touches of makeup. Again, her beauty distracted him from what was going on: She was fumbling with his pants.

"Ace, not here..." He managed to squeeze out before he realized what she was doing. Being an op and working with the federal government, Marce felt his IQ drop a digit or two. She was checking him to make sure he did just as he was told. To put on every item. Touching him or not, Marce could not ignore the silk that rubbed against his hairy, inner thighs, tickling him to high hell every time his leg moved an inch. He remembered that this was all part of her little game, noticing the chuckle when she finally let him breathe by walking away from him.

The Devil wears Hot Topic.

He clasped his hands to his chest to stop whatever was flying at him and realized they were just tags and a receipt of the clothes bought. She did good budget wise, but then again, he was wearing black pants. He made a disgusted face that he wore all the way out of the door and halfway across the mall. Ladies were now starting to give him that look that said 'This stud has potential'. Marce wanted to admire it and point out to Ace that this was all her fault. Now every lady and Decatur Centre wanted in his black pants to mess around in his strawberry silk boxers.

He couldn't brag because it was much worse for her.

Every man's eyes and hormones was on Ace while she walked her long, slender legs down the carpeted isle of the mall, pulling everyone's gaze with her. It wasn't enough to say that she was attractive; she was down right hot. Marce's heavy scowl deepened but he refused to scuddle closer to her protectively like a lost little high school jock without his cheerleader. No matter who looked her up and down and peeled away the clothing off of her with their mind, she was still going home with him tonight.

Now, that got him smiling.

"So, tell me, Tinks. Where is this surprise place you're taking me to?"he said, jokingly making fun of her skirt by calling her Tinkerbell. His eyes employed themselves by giving men cold hard glares other than scanning the length of her body. Hoodie and faded hat or not. Marce was still fully capable of killing someone in his Converse.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:45 pm

"Tinks, huh? Well, Peter, I'm taking you to NeverNever Land," Ace replied, tossing him a grin before offering a slight shrug. "We're going to visit an old.. acquaintance of mine. If I told you anything about him, you wouldn't believe me. It's something you'll just have to see for yourself. He has some things of mine that I need if I'm going to help you with the big bad adult pirates," she said, even chancing a slight wink at him.


Why? Why was she flirting with him like some teenaged idiot?


It might have to do with the fact that he had practically invited her to jump on him in Hot Topic with his body language..


She brushed those thoughts aside and continued to walk with him through the mall. After a minute, she realized they were getting looks. Some she was used to, some she wasn't. The jealous looks that she caught were pointed at both her and Marce. Apparently they both looked good now. Well, that proved that she had done a good job, at least. People didn't stare like that at a cop. Marce definitely had the badboy look. She turned and glanced him over.


Oh yeah. He had it.


"Now that you look the part, you'd better make sure you don't waste this shopping trip and blow it by saying something stupid. There are a lot of topics off limit here.. Actually, you know, it might be a lot safer if you could manage to be the silent and brooding type the entire time we're out of the car," she said thoughtfully, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.


She turned and casually took his hand as they passed a group of chattering girls, disliking how they eyed him so.. hungrily.


"What do you think, Peter? Are you skilled enough?" she asked him teasingly, her fingers laced with his as she strolled with him outside and headed back over to his car.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:46 pm

Surprises. It was always surprises with her. At the mention of another person, Marce couldn't help but to show interest, and not the curious kind of interest. Cop interest. He was no cop but he wasn't about to waltz into someone else's place like they had been the best of friends. If it was enough to have him change his entire appearance for, it was worth looking into. Marce shot his one-hundredth glare at a tall chocolate man who went far enough to lick his lips once Marce and Ace passed.

"I don't think I trust your 'acquaintances'."he said, a snarl still in his voice that didn't pass until the two were well away from the perv man. If it were his choice, he would've walked around the mall with his gun in his holster. Give the people something to look at, alright. However, he couldn't do that. I was bad enough that people quickly noticed Marce Jove for who he was. Traipsing around an innocent, public mall with a fire arm at his hips would only bring attention to himself, a no-no according to Bob. "If I have to hide my cop-like appearance from this guy, can I just go ahead and assume he's done something bad? Sold some drugs? Robbed some old lady? It's the old lady thing, isn't it?"he asked.

Apparently, Ace didn't too much care for his humor. He gave her a cross frown as if he had swallowed and onion whole. She dismissively waved away his look of disgust.

"What? Brooding? Great. Personality gone straight out the window after I put on a cap and some Chuck Taylors."

"What do you think, Peter? Are you skilled enough?"

"You're testing my skill now? Out of all places, Tinks."he responded with a crude smirk. Even when she latched her fingers into his, he said nothing in retort. He knew it was all out of protocol. Strictly...protocol. They had to keep close to one another, after all. Why not hold hands the entire way? The gesture did the trick. Most of the stares didn't last longer than 2 seconds. As soon as the onlookers saw the tight grasp of their fingers, they quickly minded their own business again and returned to window shopping. Her hands we as smooth as sil...No. He couldn't think about silk anymore than he already had.

"Fine. We'll go see your convict friend."he said, giving her hand a slight squeeze to motion her to pick up the pace. He had to get out of that place. The egos there were starting to suffocate him.

"Oh, and Grace?"he asked, not giving the chance for her to respond while he hit her brown eyes with his blue ones.

"Wear that in that house and I promise you I won't be on that couch."
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:49 pm

I don't think I ever said I wanted you on that couch, Marce..


Admittedly, she had lost all of the anger she had at him for daring to use the whole name that he knew instead of Ace. She was so stunned by what he had said that she had been speechless the rest of the way to the car. Thankfully she snapped out of it enough to give him directions, leading the way through the streets until they were in a questionable neighborhood. It only seemed that way, though. She knew for a fact nothing would happen to them or his precious car.


Once she told him to stop, she pushed all thoughts of hauling him into the backseat out of her mind. There was obviously a bit of.. tension between them. It was acknowledged. Time to move on. She unbuckled and turned to him, giving him as serious a look as she could manage.


While undressing him mentally.


"Alright. From here on out, if you say Ace or Grace, be aware that each time I will be counting and depending on how obvious it is, I will either punch or bitchslap you in the balls while you're sleeping. I might even shoot them. Be aware," she warned him severely, then climbed out of the car.


She strolled along the sidewalk and up to a dingy apartment looking that looked like it was either abandoned or falling down. Ignoring Marce completely, she pushed a button on the side and waited a few moments before scowling.


"I swear to god that if you stare at my cleavage any longer without giving me the keypad I will shove-" she started, but then the slot next to the button moved and a shining silver number pad showed up.


"Good boy," she muttered, punching in a rapid five-digit code before turning to watch the door swing open. Stepping inside, she tilted her head at Marce.


"Come on, Peter," she said, figuring the name worked as well as anything else. She led him through a deserted room filled with dust and broken boxes, then went over to a set of stairs. Four flights down later, she came to another door and had to enter an entirely different code. Finally the door swung open and a pudgy man met her on the other side, looking both excited and suspicious.


"Reflection! I wasn't expecting you yet, the package only arrived yesterday.." he said, his eyes scouring over Marce before he turned away and dismissed the man.


Score.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:51 pm

The car ride was an accomplished one. Ace was nearly silent the whole way down with the exception of giving him directions which he gladly took with no arguments. He could have easily reminded her how much of a good boy he was being by obeying her orders, but she had enough for the day. Marce was not evil, he just liked having a good time, is all. Pushing her buttons was the best thing since butter.

"Great. The slumps. Can I change my theory back to the drug selling?"he asked, knowing that he was not going to get an answer. It was true, however. The car wheeled off of the main highway, past suburbs and high schools. He had to take so many left turns, he thought Ace was lost and bringing him around in complete circles. Out of the blue, she told him to take a right at a dingy, run down corner store named Ike's. Marce was pretty sure that the 'M' in front of it had long since faded away from it's luscious green painting. He and Ace remained quiet while they finally made it into the...neighborhood, if one could call it that. The apartments weren't hard to find. It was the large building with broken windows that was hanging on by a brick. Simple enough.

Once Ace ordered them to a stop, Marce wheeled his Malibu smoothly into an empty parking space next to some run down coupe or such. He made very sure to park his car a good bit always from it so that Ace wouldn't scratch his pain when she was getting out. One look at her expressionless face didn't help him tell if she was still mad at him about the couch thing. Not even a second passed before she unbuckled her seat belt to send him the most serious glare he thought he got from her all day. It made him flinch.

...Yeah. She was still mad.

"I'm assuming you don't want children then?"he asked. Ace only stepped out of the car and closed the door, ignoring his existence in the world. Marce fought hard not to whistle a tune of triumph. He didn't know what to make of the door's systems, but he was impressed. Thoroughly impressed. He took another gander at the building and how decrepit it was on the outside, just to confirm that he wasn't going insane. His neck craned back to get a better look at the other floors. All he got was shattered glasses and chunks of missing bricks. Next thing he knew, Ace was motioning for him to follow him by her little nickname that he assumed she was going to carry for the rest of the meeting. Joy.

Marce made no sound when her...'acquaintance'...finally presented himself. He was a freaking nerd.

"Pfft." Both he and Ace looked directly at Marce who managed to occupy his attention somewhere else just in time, following Ace into the house. His interest about the so-called package would be answered soon, but for the moment, he had to do what Ace told him to do: Act brooding. He practiced by scanning the room with one dull and bland look before shrugging his broad shoulders back.

"Nice place." He didn't mean for it to sound sarcastic but it was practically bleeding it. Marce cursed himself internally and made a mental note to get Ace back some how. How many infractions was she at now, four? He avoided her eyes on all cost, laying them on an uninteresting nightstand that held and uninteresting lamp. He had a feeling the guy was going to be a filibuster.

New mission: No yawning.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:53 pm

"Spare me the story, please. Step aside," she muttered, brushing the kid a few inches over to stroll past him. She went past the wall of monitors and ignored the fact that the floor had been newly tiled since she was there. Even the new cinema-sized screen that was running an old Star Wars movie wasn't worth her attention. After giving Marce a glare, she strolled over to the large cardboard box sitting on the glass dining table.


"Well, uh.. Anyway.. It's good to see you. What's with the new cling-on? What happened to Greyson?" the man continued, moving closer but not getting too close. Ace sighed and ripped open the box, entering in a code over twenty digits long before pulling open a small safe. She withdrew a gun and cocked it, aiming it at him.


"Ask me that again and I won't give you your present," she said flatly. He squeaked out some kind of apology and she ignored him, sticking the gun in the back of her skirt and hauling out the rest. Four handguns, spare ammo, an extendable file of paperwork, and an external harddrive that she tossed into the pocket of her hoodie. Last but certainly not least, she withdrew a shining silver harddrive.


"You know, Arch.. I don't think you quite deserve this after peeking up my skirt when I was waiting outside," she mused. The boy turned fifty shades of red and fidgeted.


"Oh come on! I didn't mean to! You know I have a camera there!" he pleaded. She looked over at Marce and smirked slightly, then tossed the flash drive to Arch and threw Marce a gun to make him feel better. The other two guns she carried, along with her file.


"Is it all here?" Arch asked, plugging in the drive.


"Along with a few extras. I found a few things I knew you'd enjoy messing around in Japan's. Now, where is it?" she asked, and he held up a card for her.


"It's all there."


"I know it is. If not, you know what happens," she replied simply, then grabbed Marce and hauled him out after her as she left. She went back up the stairs, pausing two up to turn to Marce in the darkness. Arch would be watching, she knew. So, she pulled Marce's head down and looped her arms around him. "Fake it til you make it," she whispered to him, then grinned and let him go, taking his hand and going all the way back out to his car without saying another word.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:55 pm

Marce was painted different colors of confusion at everything that was said and done, starting with Ace. She just waltzed into the boy's mancave as if she owned it, not even giving him the slightest sideways glance. Marce decided it was best if he kept to himself for the most part. His op-like senses were tingling all over the place. There was a need to want to see and touch everything, like a child in a dinosaur museum. His inner curiosity was going to be his doom one day, he just knew it. It first started when he watched Ace walk away from him and to the glass table. And by "look", he meant stare at the same side to side stride she carried herself with. Her friend was staring at her too that quickly gained a glare from Marce.

"What happened to Greyson?"

"Who's Greys--"

"Ask me that again and I won't give you your present." Marce had hardly noticed that she pulled a gun out! He didn't make a move, watching her point it directly at the boy who could have pissed in his pants for all that Marce knew. His bristled chin quivered while he tried to come up with some explanation to save is ass and his 'present' while Marce rose an eyebrow at Ace.

"What's in the b-"

"You know, Arch.. I don't think you quite deserve this after peeking up my skirt when I was waiting outside."

"He did what?"

"Oh come on! I didn't mean to! You know I have a camera there!"

"So help me..." Marce muttered, sending Ace a return glare when she smirked at him before hurling something at the blundering fool across from her. It looked to be a small disk of some sort, much like a hard drive. As if on cue, Marce opened his mouth to ask a question that wasn't going to be answered, but all he got was a gun in hand. He looked down at it. Sleek. New. Nice.

"Is it all here?"

"Is what all here?"

"Along with a few extras. I found a few things I knew you'd enjoy messing around in Japan's. Now, where is it?"

"Where is what?" This time, his question was actually answered, though not verbally. Arch held up a card that he assumed had what Ace was asking for.

"I know it is. If not, you know what happens."

"What happens?" His answer was her hand pulling him out of the room and down the stairs. Marce was all types of puzzled and lost, not even thinking into the fact that Ace was holding his hand for the third time that day. The light from the mancave left, basking them in the darkness of outside. A day already passed and he hadn't even eaten lunch and dinner. Arch followed the two of them with paranoid eyes. Marce wanted to turn around and flash him a white-toothed smile that'd scare his zipper backwards, but he couldn't. Ace took his head and bent it down onto his level with a false, sweet smile on. No matter. The damage was long since done. Marce opened his mouth to whisper something, but his sentence was quickly cut off by Ace's advice.

Fake? Fake what?

He didn't have the chance to respond before she released him with the same fake smile before pulling him back out of the door and to his car. A street light flickered overhead, dousing them in a dimming yellow-orange light. He looked down at her as he wheeled himself over to the drivers door, climbing in without saying a word to him. He even ignored Arch if the man was still looking at them or not. A loud engine roar later and the two were out of there and down the road to his home. It was a 45 minute drive. A silent one.

Marce didn't even announce that they were home. He had tried his hardest not to fall asleep on the road. His eyes burned over and over with every street light the car passed. He would not have blamed Ace if she fell asleep. He was nearly there. The house loomed in front of him as he powered the car off, looking over to Ace with a light tap on her shoulder. That was notion enough.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:57 pm

Ace was silent the whole way back. She was waiting for Marce to finish the questions that he had started at Arch's, or for him to freak out about everything. Maybe for him to pull over and strip down naked to pull out his old clothes and tug them back off. He didn't do anything. Instead, he was silent, doing nothing but driving. The radio wasn't even on to break the tension. She wasn't sure if he was angry, brooding, or just mocking her by keeping up with the order to be silent.


She slowly started to fall asleep, her arms wrapped around the file and two spare guns. Her head tipped to the side and she relaxed until she was dozing.


Just as her dream started evolving into a rather steamy encounter, Marce tapped her and she flinched awake. She straightened up and cleared her throat, rubbing her face with one hand as she cradled everything else with the other. Feeling more awake now, she climbed out of the car and absently brushed a wrinkle from the skirt as she walked up to his front door with him.


Once they were inside, she dumped everything on the couch and turned to him.


"Greyson was murdered. The files are research. Arch is a pervert. The flash drive I gave him were American government files, mostly from the Pentagon. The card has over six million dollars on it. What happens if the money isn't there is I destroy him," she said quickly, unable to keep the information from him any longer.


No, that wasn't it.


She was unable to keep from talking to him. Shit.


"Most of the research is on the girls. You can have it,"
she added quietly, figuring that's all that he really cared about out of this trip anyway.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:58 pm

Marce listened to her mini rant absentmindedly. He was tired to the core, all of the day's events coming back to him in small floods. First, it was seeing her in the morning lying in his bed with nothing but tee on, after he saved her ass from Merenzo's. Then it was the awkward moment in the car once they parked at McDonald's. When he told her he would protect her and she asked him to promise. To the point where he spilled out that she had to sleep with him and watched her choke on her pancakes while he sipped listlessly at his Coke.

The rest started to zoom by. The car. Stabbing. Bob. The mall. Marce's eyes drooped at every event that flickered through his eyes fresh as if he were watching it in Blu-Ray. He frowned at the way she threw all of her junk where he was supposed to be asleep, when he remembered two things. The first: That wasn't junk. It was a couple of firearms and some information about the missing girls scattered around the world. He would be skirmagging through those things in the morning, he was sure. Information about the Pentagon for the lives of some girls. That seemed fair.

The second: He wasn't sleeping on that couch.

Marce gave Ace one look that said nothing. No expression. No hidden words. No jokes. Just eye contact. The look stayed until he finally tossed his keys on the floor without looking at where they skidded too, hearing them jangle somewhere across the tiles of the kitchen. The next thing to go was the blasted hoodie and hat. The two were shrugged off of his shoulder and hair, giving him room to flex his broad shoulders until they cracked satisfactorily, wearing a Iron Maiden shirt that toned his muscles. The articles of clothing were thrown on the couch too, joining the clutter of guns and files. He never broke his gaze with her, even when he grabbed her hand tighter and led her to where she knew she was going.

He closed the door and didn't bother locking it. It was just them, anyway. Let someone come through that door if they wanted to. They'd be in for it. A sliver of moonlight broke through the window behind them on the far wall, basking the two in a white glow. He gave her body a quick scan over. His jaw clenched.

"Ace."he said, not bothering to take a step towards her. He was a good boy all day, obeying everything she had told him and some. He had the silk to prove it. He had to remind her that she was still a criminal. His voice hid no embarrassment, fear, or sarcasm. It was blunt, straightforward, and not sugar coated at all, expression speaking the same.

"Get in the bed."
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Dec 29, 2012 10:59 pm

Looking up at Marce uncertainly as he didn't respond at first, Ace was starting to worry that he was going to smack her. She really had no reason to think that other than the fact that he was looking at her really strangely and she was sure he wanted to. Holding his gaze, she listened to the clatter of keys on the floor and watched as he tugged off the hat and slung his hoodie off. Standing there in the band tee and black pants, he was still unlawfully hot.


She was going to say something when he took her hand and led her down the hallway to the bedroom. Silent and staring at him as he shut the door, she almost jumped when he said her name.


Jesus, all of this silence was going to be the death of her..


She didn't react at first when he told her to get in the bed. At least, she didn't seem to outwardly. Internally she was processing his request. Completely ignoring the urge to figure out why he was ordering it, she tried to decide if it was a good idea from an unbiased point of view.


In other words, stop thinking about finding out how good that silk feels..


Sleeping with Marce would lead to something. Whatever that something was, was up in the air. On one hand she wanted to ravage him like crazy. On the other, she knew that even if they didn't wind up doing anything like that, they'd still end up in a position that wouldn't be normal. She knew this because she had a tendency to snuggle up to anybody she slept with, regardless of how much she hated them. It wasn't intentional - not like she has much choice when she's already asleep!


Ugh.


But.. Couldn't this create problems? They were supposed to hate each other and not work well together. Challenge each other and all that. Argue until death. Wind up in jail - her, at least. She longed for the comfort and companionship of an overdue snuggle, but..


She didn't dare.


"No. I'm sleeping on the couch," she said quietly, breaking the unnerving eye contact with him and turning to open the bedroom door back up so that she could go out to the living room.

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