Some Kind of Cover (M) - (5 Parts)

[Liberty Belle]

Suggestions and requests happily catered too. I imagine there will be a bit of sneezing-while-hiding in this one ;p

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There was nothing quite like watching him trying to maintain his facade under stress. Normally his stone-faced composure was admirable, even enviable, but there were moments that it got away from him, and that was the only time Cassie could endure his company.

"I didn't know you had hay fever," she said.

"HEITCH!", he stifled a violent sneeze against the fist pressed to the tip of his nose, relaxing the split-second grimace into an aggravated glare as they crossed the hotel lobby. He was supposed to be holding her hand with the one not currently clutching a suitcase, but the act of repeatedly releasing it to pinch or rub or hold a fist to his nose was irritating them both. He'd just gotten the hand back to his side when he brought it up again, clenching it a few centimeters from his nose and grimacing with another strangled, "HEITCH!"

Again he relaxed, sniffling efficiently, and tried to get the glare off his face. It wasn't working.

"You could bless me. Or is it too much to expect a little common courtesy from y...--HEITCH!"

Cassie weighed her options as he recomposed himself with another angry little sniff.

"Mmmm... too much."

Aside from his lingering air of annoyance, they were the perfect picture of a happy, honeymooning couple: she well-coiffed and attired in a bright floral sunddress and snappy snub heels, he in freshly-ironed khakis and a black panama shirt with sunglasses hooked over the collar. Their wheeled luggage suggested an extended stay, and who could blame them -- the Isla Paradiso resort was not the kind of place that encouraged overnight stays.

They wheeled their bags to the bamboo concierge desk, where a host in Hawaiin attire was quick to greet them with a glowing smile.

"Welcome to Isla Paradiso Resort," he began. "Checking in?"

"Yes, we're the Clemenses," Cassie answered with a smile, adjusting the oversized beach bag draping the crook of her arm.

"Of course... just a moment..." he pecked at the computer for a few seconds before his smile returned to her at full wattage. "You must be Courtney?"

Her companion cleared his throat, and the host was quick to look over -- and up -- at the tall man standing somewhat imposingly beside her. He smiled, almost convincingly.

"Actually, that would be me."

"Y...you're Courtney, sir?"

"You can call me Court. This is my wife Cassandra."

"Oh...oh!", after consulting with the computer screen again, he flushed with embarrassment. "I see that now. I'm sorry. Ah... if I can just get your ID, I'll have your room keys coded up immediately."

Once their identification had been handed over, and the host had immersed himself in the small group of identically-attired resort employees, Court lost his smile and backhanded his nose irritably.

"What the hell could I possibly be allergic to in the tropics."

"We'll find a gift shop and pick you up some anti-histamines. Stop being such a baby."

His eyes flashed at her balefully, angular jaw hardening into sharp, tense lines.

"I'm not being a--"

"And here we are!", the young host returned, nervously sliding the ID cards back across the granite counter. "I have a bellhop waiting at the elevators, to help you with your luggage."

Cassie spoke up, resting a tender hand on her husband's arm.

"Pooh-bear, why don't you go up with him... I want to make a quick phone call to check in with the house-sitters."

"Of course, puddin'," he returned, showing the dangerous whites of his teeth. "Don't be long."

Once Court had turned to follow the bellhop, Cassie was surprised to find another employee -- a young woman, this time -- offering her the house phone. She took it with a flickering smile.

"Oh, ah... thanks."

"Our pleasure, Mrs. Clemens. Is... that your husband?"

She followed the woman's sidelong look, watching Court pause just outside the elevator doors to stifle a sneeze against his fist before proceeding inside.

"Yes, that's him."

"What on earth does he do?"

It wasn't an uncommon or even unforeseen question; at 6'4", and solidly built, Courtney had a hard time blending in most crowds, even when he was dressed the part. Unfortunately, she rarely had the right answer prepared.

"He's an accountant."

Another employee, also female, snuck up behind the first, and stood staring at the closing elevator doors with the same look of hungry curiosity.

"My boyfriend's studying to become an accountant," she lamented. "But he sure doesn't look like that."

"Well, he's... got a head for numbers," Cassie fumbled, and the two women looked at her.

"Who cares about his head?"

*******

Court was feeding dollar bills into the bellhop's outstretched hand when Cassie caught up to him, but they were left quickly alone. Once the hotel door was shut he moved with a machine-like purpose, hefting a hard-sided suitcase to the room's small writing desk and cracking it open.

"Did you get ahold of them?" he asked.

Less inclined to jump head-first into business, she moved languidly around the room, examining its appointments. Not bad... certainly better than some of the other places they'd stayed.

"I did -- just let them know we'd arrived. It's still before dawn there, so it will be a few hours before they have anything substantiative to tell us." She looked over his shoulder, at the array of computer and surveillance equipment packed neatly into the body of the suitcase. He didn't waste any time. "Did you remember your swim trunks?"

"This is serious business," he sniped, the whites of his eyes outstanding as he glared back at her. "Could you at least try to treat it that way for once?"

"Do you need to take everything so seriously? For once we pulled the easy assignment, you should be pleased. We might actually get to enjoy ourselves."

He snorted and lowered the lid of the case, shunting the array of winking LEDs into shadow.

"We're here to work."

"We're here to feign legitimate affection for one another and make sure that nothing untoward happens while the Ambassador's irritating little daughter is here getting drunk with her private-school friends. I wouldn't precisely call it deep cover."

Court grimaced again, quickly raising a fist to that same spot at the very tip of his nose.

"HEITCH!"

"Oh, for God's sake..."

"HEITCH!" He'd just clamped off the worst of the sneeze when a white lace handkerchief, thoroughly embellished with lace, was thrust at him. A slight snarl curled at his lip. "No thank you."

"We can call down to the concierge for something for that hay fever."

"I don't have hay fever."

"Fine, then perhaps we can ask if they have something to make you less of an insufferable ass?" When he glared and turned stiffly away, she cast him a breezy look. "Ass-Ex, perhaps? Ass-Quil?"

Court vanished into the darkened bathroom, announcing his presence a few seconds later with a quick, thorough honk. He even blew his nose efficiently.

It would have been nice to say that, after five years together, their partnership had been more ups than downs. Why they'd ever been paired together in the first place, however, was only a slightly greater mystery than why they were repeatedly denied reassignment to new partners. Despite their constant conflict, they ultimately worked well together: she fell in line when the situation required it, and he never let down his guard. The combination of their unique strengths and weaknesses made for an almost legendary partnership among the other agents of the NSA, even if it made for positively abysmal personal relations.

"HEITCH!" he stifled another ridiculous sneeze as he emerged from the bathroom, and breaking away from her faraway stare through the hotel window, she looked back over one shoulder.

"Gesundheit," she smirked.

"Thank you," he muttered, though not without an edge of sarcasm.

Court stood alongside, and slightly behind her, as they both looked down onto the resort's glittering poolside, already arrayed with bikini-clad women sporting cinnamon tans, and a compliment of admirably toned young men. Cassie blinked and let her eyes comfortably unfocus a she stared.

"So are you going to be making that racket the entire time we're here?"

"What racket?", already his tone smacked of offense.

"HITCH!", she mocked him, and though she didn't give him the benefit of a look, felt him radiating with anger. His voice was gravel-bottomed.

"You know as well as I do that I have to stay alert and low-profile while we're on duty. That means no alcohol, and no drugs – even antihistamines."

"So it's better to draw attention to yourself with incessant, barely-suppressed fits of sneezing?" Craning a strange look at him, she folded her arms. "Why on earth do you do that, anyway?"

His mouth hardened. "Do what?"

"Hold them in. Not even well for that matter -- do you even hear yourself? You're like a mental patient."

Court's eyes glinted dangerously, lessened only by the visible flare of his nostrils, this time from irritation rather than ire. No less a gentleman he began to turn away, parting his lips and raising the same clenched fist towards the tip of his nose.

On impulse Cassie slapped his wrist away before he could bottle up the mounting sneeze. It was just enough to shock the impulse out of him, and he met her with an upraised forearm, deftly deflecting her hand. She dodged the heel of her palm for his throat but he leaned from the blow, catching her arm and twisting her about violently. Cassie immediately thrust an elbow back, halting it just before it could make a snapping connection with his jaw.

They froze, their breath suddenly short and fast, every nerve and muscle on edge.

"What the fuck are we doing," she blurted. Even Court did not have an answer, eyes briefly darting from side to side.

"I… I don't…"

Her back was still turned to him, but she felt his chest balloon with breath, then wrench aside as he vented a titanic sneeze.

"Heh--RRSSSSHH'ah"

Fine particles were still visible in the sunlit air as he straightened up, his façade cracked.

"Gesundheit," Cassie said, and this time meant it. "…So that's why you hold them in."

The muscles of his jaw stood out in hard relief, forehead tightened into a self-conscious glare. Sniffling once – deeply and violently enough to avoid the further humiliation of having to blow his nose – he turned stiffly for the other, soft-sided suitcases waiting by the door.

"Let's get our things and canvas the area. We need to be prepared."

*******

She couldn't have asked for a better assignment, even if her company left something to be desired.

A completely self-contained resort, Isla Paradiso encompassed six square miles of white sand beaches, sapphire waters, three hotels, ten upscale restaurants, six night clubs, and countless cafés and stores. That wasn't including the hotel pools, scuba diving, rock climbing, out-of-the-way lagoons or golfing, all of which was provided in a well-manicured and thoroughly artificial environment, miles away from the true and poverty-stricken island natives. As was required of her, Cassie knew more about the island than she really wanted to, which made full immersion in the vacation atmosphere that much harder.

She emerged from the changing cabana at the edge of the pool, newly dressed in an indigo swimsuit with a lace-tied front, and a peacock sarong knotted at one hip. She was better built than most of the women already sunning themselves at poolside, although her physique came from rigorous and regular physical exercise, versus the precision of a plastic surgeon's scalpel. They also didn't have a scar from the slug removed from one shoulder, so perhaps it was a fair trade.

"Court," she called out, spotting her partner, and they approached each other across the sandstone, she in the smooth, swinging gait of a dancer, he with the too-purposeful stride of a government agent completely out of his element. He'd changed into black board shorts but kept the black-and-ivory panama shirt, laid open to reveal a smooth chest and 200-situps-a-day abs.

She smirked as she neared him, tilting down the rims of her sunglasses, and his eyes flicked over her, unreadable, before settling on her face.

"See anything suspicious?" he asked.

"Yes, I think you shave your chest." Before his scowl could deepen any further, she cast a look around. "No, nothing. I almost hate to say it, Court, but this isn't exactly shaping up to be a thrill-a-minute assignment. The biggest threat I can see here is a boob popping out of someone's biki----why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes snapped up, hard expression momentarily flustered. Cassie smirked.

"Eyes up here, soldier."

"I'm sorry. It's just you're…"

"Courtney 'Clemens', are you on the verge of giving me a compliment?"

He sniffed and straightened.

"I was going to say that you're stretching the boundaries of propriety with that getup."

"We are under cover." Her lips pursed. "Look at the sun."

"What?"

"Your nose is doing that… twitchy thing—"

"It isn't," he raised a fist to his nose quickly, glowering.

"I can see quite plainly that it is, and if you look at the sun now you'll get that sneeze out of your system, rather than having it surprise you later on."

He was positively burning, but with a clenched jaw he took her advice, raising his eyes to the morning sun hovering behind the spiny palm trees. Cassie watched him curiously as he first blinked at the glare, then blinked in surprise, and hastened a fist to his nose.

"HEITCH!", he barked out a single, military sneeze, drawing the attention of a few nearby sunbathers.

"Gesundheit," she smiled faintly, watching him succumb. Okay, it was a little bit of fun blessing him.

Court couldn't even get his head up before, "HEITCH!" More people looked his way.

"Gesundheit again."

He made a weak sound, as if in desperate anticipation of a third sneeze, but for whatever reason it didn't come. When Cassie offered him a handkerchief, this time it was of the disposable paper variety, and he took it with a small, defeated growl.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Darling."

Wordlessly they began to walk, starting a slow circle of the pool perimeter. Cassie laced a hand through his arm, trying not to notice the rock-solid muscle beneath her fingers. Did he live on a weight bench? Though they gave every appearance of surveying the poolside offerings, even appreciatively ogling those already worshiping the sun, behind the piano black shades they were acutely alert to far different details: the movement of the staff, the security cameras discretely panning from the cover of palm fronds, the entry points accessible to non-resort goers.

As they rounded the diving board they let their hands drop down, fingers intertwined between them like two lovers.

"I spoke briefly with the 'house sitters'," Cassie said.

"Mm. What did they have to say?"

"They said our guest is arriving this afternoon, along with some of her friends from school. She's filed an itinerary with the Ambassador's staff, they'll email it to us as soon as they have it, so we can schedule our movement around her."

He snorted softly, affecting a small smirk.

"Freshly twenty-one-year-old women always follow itineraries."

"Well, it's better than blindly guessing where she'll pub-crawl off to next. Word has it they like dancing – I hope you brought appropriate club attire."

She didn't look, but from the corner of her eye saw his head turn toward her, brow deep.

"Club attire. Meaning what, exactly?"

"Court—look over there."

They found themselves back between the pale canvas cabanas, and turned casually to face each other. Cassie curled against his chest as he cradled her waist in his hands, giving the affect of a long, romantic look out over the winking sea.

"Eleven o'clock," she said without preamble. "Hard right from the blue fishing boat, ragtop cruiser. That's not a resort boat."

"I see it."

"Can you see what's mounted on the stern?"

"Satellite receiver, military grade."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. They're anchored out there. They're waiting for something."

"Let's get back to the room."

"Agreed."

They parted and silently rejoined hands, walking with slightly greater urgency towards the awned deck between the hotel and pool. Halfway up the clattering boards Court raised a fist and turned from her, overcome by a sneeze.

"Heh-RRSSSSHH!"

He nearly pulled from her hand with the strength, and for the first time Cassie responded with neither irritation nor amusement.

"…Gesundheit."

Issuing the very first groan she'd ever heard out of him, he steeled himself and indelicately wiped his nose with one wrist, continuing towards the hotel.

"Excuse me."

"Court—what are you allergic to?"

"I can't worry about that now," he sniffled with purpose. "We need to ring Ops."

[Guest]

Wow, loving this! Court is a great character to have sneeze - it's really funny and sweet at the same time. I love the way you spelled them out . He puts me in mind of Butler from the Artemis Fowl books (that may be a really lost reference but hey). Anyway, thanks! And please continue

[aggedy_ann]

Mmmm....loving it, loving it, loving it. There's just something about stubborn men.

I didn't stop to think that antihistamines could also interfere with a missiony-type thing just as much as allergies .

Thank you soo much for writing this, please do continue.

[doggo]

She couldn't have asked for a better assignment, even if her company left something to be desired.

NO HE DOESN'T!!!

Seriously, I love this. So damn hot, a stiff, cranky, stubborn piece of hot sneezing like that... And I'm a complete sucker for that kind of bickering... oh yes, I truly love this! Oh please write more....

[Elle]

This is pretty tasty, although I feel sorry for Court (of course not because he's sneezy) but his partner is so unsympathetic (or not dying to jump his bones over) his incessant sneezing. That excellent incessant uncontrollable hayfever sneezing.

[tma]

Ooooh!! This is great!! Love the chemistry... love the setup. The guy sort of reminds me in an odd way of the NSA guy on Chuck for some reason- which is making it even more fun for me.

Absolutely terrific.

[girl_in_love]

I totally agree with everyone, I hope you write some more soon? Hugs!!!

Love

~*Jill*~

[Liberty Belle]

Woot! Glad everyone is enjoying. :> :>

TMA, I'm totally picturing Adam Baldwin too, so that's just about right. ;>

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Cassie pressed the earpiece more firmly in place, reaching to fumble with the temperature controls below the hotel room window.

"Just a minute, sir, there's… interference…" She flicked off the air conditioning and, once the whirring had died, returned to her seat before their mobile communication center. "Sorry, that's better. Go ahead."

"We have no record of the vessel you described coming by water over the past forty-eight hours," the tinny voice informed her. "It's possible it belongs to one of the local fisherman."

"Agent Walker said no, they're equipped for a satellite feed."

"And he's sure?"

"So he said, sir."

"Where is Agent Walker now, I'd like to speak with him."

Hesitating, resisting the urge to look back over her shoulder, she finally sighed, "He's indisposed at the moment. But once we returned to the room we confirmed with binoculars, sir – that's no fishing boat."

After a long pause, the voice continued, "Very well. The itinerary is being submitted to you right now. We'll alert the local authorities, but until then stay as close to the Ambassador's daughter as possible."

"Like a shadow, sir."

"Very good, Agent. We'll be in touch."

She disengaged the link and removed the headset, setting it aside with a small sigh.

"Well?" Court mumbled.

She said, "Well," and stood to face him.

Cassie had seen Courtney Blaire Walker in countless disguises and situations over the past five years: dangerous, selfless, heroic, headstrong, sometimes stupid and occasionally incriminating. Even with all that experience under her belt, the sight of her partner had never disarmed her quite so much as it did now.

He looked at her from the edge of the bed, blue eyes hard and set, a thermometer poking crookedly from the tightened corner of his mouth. After a few seconds of silence it began to chirp, and she pulled it out for scrutiny. Her sigh seemed to come from some untouched recess of private dread.

"Ninety-nine point nine."

"Check it again."

"Court, you—"

"Check it again," he growled, and clenched the edge of the bed in both hands. "This is not an acceptable deviation frommmf—" the probe of the thermometer shut him up again quickly, brow furrowing as if in a concentrated effort to be not-sick. Cassie paced.

"Five years with you, and I can't believe that you pick now – now, Court – to get sick."

"M'nod thick," he mumbled gratingly around the protuberance.

"Of course you're not. It's all a big conspiracy."

The thermometer chirped, and he demanded, "Theck it."

Again she took it from his mouth, examining the digital display, and uttered another weighty, bleating sigh.

"One hundred. Excellent. You have actually just managed to anger yourself into an extra one-tenth-of-a-degree of fever. This is fabulous."

Court climbed to his feet, towering over her. She forgot, sometimes, how imposing he could be.

"Check it again."

"Are you kidding me? Sit down."

"Listen to me, Agent Castle—"

"Oh, here we go, now I'm 'Agent Castle', am I? Is that's how I know you're really mad at me, because you use my professional name?"

He growled, "I don't care what a cheap thermometer from a second-rate hotel resort says, I am not sick. I've never been sick a day in my life. At worst this is some sort of an allergic reaction to the local flora, or a cleaning agent, or the designer perfume the local civilians seem to drench themselves in. It's a normal reaction for any endothermic animal to have an elevated temperature in a tropical—" he abruptly ran out of steam, blinking his eyes before trying again, vaguely distressed "…a..a tropical…"

"Twitchy," she sniped, and he doubled with a sneeze.

"Heh-RRSSSSSHHH!"

"Gesundheit. Ass."

She folded her arms, and he retreated to the window to strenuously blow his nose.

"Fine," she muttered. "You're not sick. If that's your story, and you're sticking to it, then I'm fine with that. But I'm still going to get back on the horn to Ops—"

He turned back to her, pointing a finger in accusation. "We are not abandoning this assignment."

"With what alternative, exactly? You refuse to take any medicine—"

"—it's against procedure—"

"—you refuse to even acknowledge that you need medicine—"

"—I need to stay focused." He raised his voice to cut her off, gathering himself to his full height and staring her down. "I'm entirely capable of finishing this assignment, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"While sneezing."

"I'm feeling better already."

"Twitchy!"

He stepped back, glaring and raising a clenched fist to the tip of his nose.

"Damnit, would you stop th…—hhHEITCH!"

"Gesundheit."

He buried his nose angrily in what was left of the tissue, wiping it vigorously before tossing the wad in the trash can.

"If you're done being childish, what did Ops say."

"They're sending the itinerary now," she sighed. "It should be here already. We're to follow it – and her – all night. Second skin. They'll alert the local authorities, but… knowing the locals, they have their own problems to deal with, and I don't think the resort security teams could catch a cold….sorry."

Court glared, taking a final swipe at his nose before hefting one of the suitcases onto the bed.

"Fine. Download the itinerary, and let's have a look. If she's due to arrive this afternoon, that gives us time to check out the beach, and get a closer look at that boat. I want a better idea of what we're up against."

Cassie abandoned him for the mobile Comm unit, flipping up the small screen to retrieve their information.

"I'll grab some information on the local color, as well… might help us weed out the bad elements from the worse.

He turned her a quick look, finally pleased with something she'd said.

"Good. It's all about focus, Cassandra. Stay focused, and everything will go by the book."

[starpollen]

LOVE THIS. So, I REALLY HOPE you'll be quick to post updates! I love where this story is going, and will be checking back daily to read more. (No pressure!...)

[girl_in_love]

I'm exactally the same as her! Write more soon!

Love

~*Jillo*~

[Gallatea]

"Twitchy"... I love that!

Please please please add more soon!!!!

[Liberty Belle]

Woot, part three. :> Now I just need to pull all it all together.

I'm really, really glad you guys are enjoying this. It makes it three times as much fun for me, srsly. :>

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After spending the better part of the morning and afternoon in the guise of newlyweds, walking the strand back and forth, Cassie was glad to trade her bathing suit for something slightly – although not significantly – less revealing. She'd always been a satin kind of girl anyway, and after amassing very little useful intel from their surveillance on the beach, she was relieved to hear Court announce that it was time to find the Ambassador's daughter.

First stop on the itinerary: dinner and dancing.

The Blue Lagoon was one of Isla Paradiso's more elegant establishments, divided into equal parts upscale restaurant and nightclub, with each half separated by an enormous glass partition streaming with water. Ferns and river rocks abounded, textured stone walls forming natural tables where elegant people sipped elegant drinks, and tried to look as disaffected as possible.

Twin stairs curved down symmetrically from the lobby, and upon arrival Cassie slid her hand along the banister, descending the carpeted steps. She spied Court making his way down the opposite side.

"A suit?", she asked, pausing on the landing where the two stairways briefly met before diverging to the restaurant floor. He fixed one cuff, frowning down at his suit.

"What? The dress code said semi-formal attire."

"Semi-formal, not semi-wooden. Here," she reached for his collar, slapping his hands away lightly when he moved to stop her, and quickly went about undoing his tie.

"What are you—would you stop?"

"You stick out like a sore thumb." When he sniffled as she worked at the knot, she pressed, "Do you need to sneeze?"

"No," his voice was cold.

"Are you sure? Jesus, Court, did you glue this thing on?"

"I'm positive, would you—" his nostrils twitched, a look of dread disturbing his glare. "…hurry up with that."

She finally got the knot free, sliding the tie away neatly, but her timing was off; Court grabbed her waist suddenly, holding her in place as he turned away to sneeze.

"HhrrRRSSSSHH!"

"My, but you get frisky when you're sick." She offered the tie, ignoring the murderous look in his eyes as he sniffled and snatched it back. "Gesundheit."

"I was trying to be polite." He stuffed it in one pocket and – against his better judgment – offered his arm. She took it primly, allowing him to escort her down from the landing.

"Let's have a look around, shall we? I think I spied our guest of honor at the bar."

Sure enough, a clot of the social elite had formed at one end of the hewn rock bar, a smattering of designer martinis already resting on the softly glowing top. At the center of them was a slender woman with dark, Havana-brown skin and luxuriously long black hair, her head thrown back with gay laughter at something one of her Armani-clad suitors just said. Her ample décolletage was almost stealing the show.

"What's her name again?" Court asked.

"Virginia."

"Of course it is."

There was no room at the bar, and no way to hang out nearby without drawing too much attention to themselves. Court escorted her cautiously to one of the nearby hightop tables, seating her gentlemanly before taking the chair opposite and watching the bar from the corner of his eye.

"Notice anything off?"

"Not so far," she murmured, gesturing to one of the waiters. "I also don't think it's going to be that easy."

"The resort hasn't had any new hires that raised any red flags… if it comes from anywhere, it will be the crowd."

A waiter swept up to them, arm draped with a towel, and set down two cocktail napkins.

"Good evening, welcome to the Blue Lagoon… may I take your drink order?"

"A Manhattan, dry, for me," Cassie replied, a little sad she wouldn't actually be allowed to drink it. Appearances were nevertheless important.

"And for you, sir?"

He began to answer, but the unexpected flare of his nostrils caused a delay, and he twisted awkwardly from both the waiter and his 'wife', fumbling a fist to the tip of his nose.

"HEIITSCH!", he battled back the worst of the sneeze, hovering his fist in place balefully before another barking sneeze tried to make it past his forceful restraint. "HEIITSCH!"

"Bless you, sir."

"Yes, gesundheit, darling," Cassie smirked, picking up her cocktail napkin between two fingers and flipping it at him delicately. "You really should have stayed back in the room, that cold of yours is getting worse."

"I'm fine," he growled, snapping up the cocktail napkin and speaking tightly past the clench of his teeth. "I'll have a glass of your house red."

"Very good, sir, I'll bring your drinks back shortly."

Left alone again, Court glared at her as he folded the little napkin around his nose, then clenched it in his palm.

"We're here to work, in case you forgot."

"I remember. By the way? While you were a little busy going off like a handgun, did you happen to notice that our mark left the bar?"

His head came up sharply, eyes zeroing on the now glaringly empty bar, then across the restaurant floor.

"There," he said, sliding from his chair and blindly offering her a hand. "They're on the dance floor."

"Are we just leavi—hey!"

Court practically pulled her from her seat, hand clamped a little too tightly around her own as he cut into the ocean of dancers. It was too early for the club to be truly hopping, the dinner music selection more inclined to jazz than dance, a fact for which Cassie was grateful. NSA training had not included any amount of Funk 101, and she was a little too old to go head-to-head with this particular crowd.

"A little delicacy, if you wouldn't mind," she complained, bumping into Court as he artlessly spun her into a slow dance. His attention was locked on their mark, sliding away only long enough to survey they sea of bodies as it closed in around them.

"I thought you were tough," he said distractedly, checking the opposite direction before leading the course of their dance closer to the Ambassador's daughter.

"Tough, yes. Cast iron, no." She looked at their feet in mild amazement. "You're remarkably graceful for such a big…"

His eyes cut down to her, brows gathering.

"A big what?"

"A… big… Well, you're very graceful."

He sniffled, but she couldn't be sure if it was born from derision or his cold. As if in answer to her unspoken doubt, he lifted his hand – the one still joined with hers -- and carefully knuckled the underside of his nose. She blinked.

"Need some help with that?"

"Funny."

Nearly beside them now, Virginia slid indecently up against her dance partner, smiling whitely as she leaned to whisper something in his ear.

Court spun Cassie away lightly for a moment, "Did you catch that?"

"Something about a drink? She's a bit of a lush, isn't she."

"He's leaving her."

Cassie laid her cheek to her partner's shoulder as he drew her against him, intimately close, lowering her lashes to conceal her careful attention to the other couple. Armani picked up the young woman's hand, kissed it, then began weaving his way out through the crowd, leaving her to undulate gracefully among their companions.

Close beside her ear, Court sniffled, and she felt one of his hands leave her hip, tightly gripping his nose.

"Hmp-KHXT!," he shook rigidly against her, holding in the sneeze.

"Gesun—"

"Hmp-KXHT!", again he trembled against her with the force of restraint, finally letting out a small, hard exhale and a congested sniffle.

Cassie lifted her head, turning her cheek just enough to glare at him, more in concern than annoyance.

"Gesundheit."

"Put your head back down," he muttered.

She obeyed, but not without mumbling against his shoulder, "Ass."

"I heard that."

"He's coming back."

They turned gradually, heads and bodies close together, keeping a careful eye on Armani as he returned to Virginia's side and offered her a drink. She took it, smiling as she sipped, then handed the glass off to one of her girlfriends. Again they fell back into the dance… such as it was.

"This is going nowhere fast," Cassie sighed, drumming her fingertips on her partner's back and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Maybe we were right… maybe they're biding their time."

"Maybe."

"Cassie..."

"Hm?"

"Don't move, I have to…" she didn't need to be told how the sentence would end. She cringed as he reached up to grip his nose, pinning her tightly against him the process.

"Hmp-KHXT!" He suppressed the sneeze with all his strength, the breath that left him afterward laced with anger.

"Excuse me."

"Court—"

"Don't say it."

She pulled back from him, just enough to counter his sudden glare, and to his surprise put her hand on his forehead. His arms never loosened from around her.

"Court, you're burning."

"I'm fine. Put your head back down."

"I can feel how hot you are just standing here—"

"That's very flattering, now put your head back down."

"Why can't you just admit that you don't feel well?"

"I don't feel well."

Cassie was ready with a rebuttal when it hit her that he'd actually agreed. Made direct eye contact, voice steady, all his attention focused, and agreed.

"Wait—say that again? I know what you just said, but I can't process it—"

"I don't feel well," he repeated tensely. "I feel like I'm burning from the inside out, I can only breathe for a few seconds in between each sneeze and…" his lashes fluttered, "…speaking of which…" His mouth opened, eyes immediately turning to the light-spangled ceiling, chest expanding against her as a sneeze gained on him with unexpected speed.

Cassie didn't particularly want to get sneezed on by her partner, but neither did she feel comfortable leaving him exposed at such a vulnerable moment. She barely registered what she was doing as she reached up, placing a forefinger beneath his nose as if offering it perch.

They were both surprised when it actually worked.

Court teetered uncomfortably for a split second, then relaxed an uneasy breath. When Cassie took her hand back, it was with distinct discomfort.

Sniffling back the last remnant of urge, he asked incredulously, "…How—"

"Let's not…talk about it. Or mention it. Ever."

He turned his chin down, sniffling against his own carefully upraised forefinger, then rejoined hands with her as they maintained their slow dance.

"Well. Thank y—"

"Ever."

"Right."

Court, it turned out, was not the only one on the dance floor feeling out of sorts.

"Adrian, I… I don't… feel right…"

The two agents turned as one, watching Virginia's dancing grow increasingly more erratic, the arms around her partner's neck becoming slack with weakness.

Armani – or Adrian, apparently – supported her without any sense of concern.

"Virginia, baby…" he gathered her calmly weight against him as she slid towards unconsciousness. "Didn't I tell you not to drink so much?"

Court's jaw clenched, focus narrowing like a bird of prey.

"Time to move."

"I'm with you."

When Virginia went completely limp Adrian hefted her upright, her head lolled to his shoulder like a woman who hasn't yet learned her limit. Their friends on the dance floor barely noticed, perhaps even accustomed to such lapses in judgment, merely waving them off as he began dragging her through the crowd.

Cassie parted from Court, immediately falling behind him as they cut a swath across the dance floor, shoulders turned to act like cowpushers between the undulating bodies. The music picked up, heralding the onset of the clubbing hour, and before long they'd be hard pressed to hear an explosion, let alone a weak cry for help.

Cassie would have been quickly lost and immobile in the crowd if not for her partner, but he cleared a winding path after the departing couple, letting her worry about surveillance of the path ahead.

"Where are they headed?" Court growled.

"Employee exit. Probably leads behind the stage."

He palmed and struck a fresh clip into his gun, trusting her to be prepared without having to look back.

"Ready?"

"Do it."

Adrian reached the door ahead of them, thrusting his back to recessed door and using his weight to wedge it open.

"Freeze--Federal agent!" Court halted him, voice miraculously finding purchase in the gaining clamor. Adrian looked up, the sight of the big man's armed approach causing him only slightly less alarming than the actual weapon he was pointing. Cassie was already at his hip, fixing him in her sights.

"I…it's not what It looks like, I'm just—"

"I said Freeze!," he roared, feinting towards him, teeth flashing dangerous. "Put her down."

Adrian hesitated, crouching as if to lower Virginia to the floor, then suddenly heaving her at the agents, rabbiting for the door. Court lunge for her, just barely catching her in one arm before their target was out of sight.

"FUCK. Cassie—take her—"

"Where are you—"

"He'll hit the dock and be gone unless I go after him. Stay here with…" he panted, one hand on the door, and unleashed a sudden, mammoth sneeze. "—hh'RRRSSSSH'!" A beat, as he groggily shook his head clear, then made after their prey. "Stay with her—"

"COURT!"

But the other agent was already gone, the white flash of his cuffs the last she saw of him before the door hung awkwardly ajar in his wake.

On the floor at her feet, Virginia groaned and palmed her temple, regaining a weak foothold on consciousness.

"Adrian," she groaned, and Cassie's blood boiled.

"Lady, you've got really fucked taste in men."

[starpollen]

I am SOOOOO in love with this story, I can't even tell you!!! There are 3 stories on the board right now that I am itching to read more of - this one, the one in the 7-11, and the one about the guy at the wedding.

So yeah. POST MORE. MORE I SAY.

[aggedy_ann]

Mmmm....wasn't coherent enough to post in response to the second part, but seeing these two parts has totally made my last couple days.

[Elle]

Delicious and delightful! Can't wait for more.

[girl_in_love]

Hey,

Great chapter, write more soon?

Love

~*Jillo*~

[Guest]

WOW Loving this story! Only just got chance to look at the last two parts, and it is SO good! Lovely, controlling guys with colds totally sweet! Still going with Butler from Artemis Fowl...*goes off in personalised daydream...* I wish my stories were half this good.

[doggo]

WHOOOO! This rocks so much! I love the both main characters and their chemistry just melts my heart. And the poor sick agent... I really, really like this!

Oh, and have to note:

"I can feel how hot you are just standing here—"

"That's very flattering, now put your head back down."

Totally hot and totally hilarious! It's so great how he tries to act all assertive despite the sneezes and sniffles... I'm really waiting for more...

[Liberty Belle]

Wheeeee. :>

Okay, this chapter is really short; I've actually written more, but I'm trying to figure out how to wind it up. I started writing him having a stifled fit, while in hiding, but... well, I'm never sure if it's "too much," and I hate to ruin it once I've gotten this far. But I'll see what I can do. Hopefully will get the last chapter done by tomorrow. :>

_________________________________________________________________________________

Adrian may have looked the part of a playboy, but he had the quick footwork of a petty criminal.

The door led Court into a blackened labyrinth of skeletal scaffolds and dusty storage, lit only by the red and blue stage lights at one far end. A barely-navigable path bent at strange angles towards a culinary clamor, and beyond that into dangerous uncertainty.

"Fuck," he growled again, grimly baring his teeth. At once there was a scrape from the darkness, and he quickly trained his gun. "Freeze. Don't move!"

There was a black dart of something, the movement of a sleek head, and Adrian broke from cover, arrowing for the sounds of shouting and cutlery as if he'd been this way a hundred times already. Court started after him, skidding to a stop on one heel after only a few steps.

Barely lowering his gun he steeled himself to sneeze, controlling them with nothing more than the grimaced wrinkle of his nose and raw defiance.

"hh-FSSH!" his head snapped down like a sneezing wolf. " ….hh-FSSH!"

At least there were only two.

Court broke into a sprint before the wet glitter of aerosol was even gone, backhanding his nose with his free arm. Hopefully he hadn't cost himself vital time.

Light broke up ahead, the slow paddle of a swinging door revealing the entry to the restaurant kitchen. He plunged through it shoulder-first, and heard a dismayed cry and an explosion of dropped plates. The kitchen was painfully bright, his eyes narrowed and blinking as he lowered his gun and stopped to regain his bearings. Gleaming chrome prep stations divided the room into countless sections, countless paths, all of them populated by chefs in identical attire, with an almost uniform look of dumb surprise.

"Which way," he barked at the nearest dishwasher, and the woman pointed with a trembling hand.

"Th…that way."

He took off again, shouldering a too-slow short-order cook out of his way, then angling sideways to make it through a narrow gap. By the time he took the corner, Adrian was well ahead of him, vanishing through a far door, back into darkness.

His chest started to ache, the alternately cold, dry stage air and the humid heat of the kitchen doing nothing to help him breathe. He shouldered through the next door with far greater caution, having lost his sense of place in the kitchen maze. The space beyond was large – vast, even – and though poorly lit, the pocket lights high overhead were enough to identify it as a warehouse. If Adrian was still running, the slap of his shoes would have carried in so cavernous a room, but aside from the creak of rats Courts detected no life in the metropolis of wooden crates.

“hh-FSSH!” he sneezed to the side, allowed himself just one sniffle, then let his eyes adjust to the prevalent gloom.

If their earlier reconnaissance could be trusted, the warehouse abutted a private wharf where supply boats docked to unload supplies for the entire resort. This was likely the waystation for everything from Mojito mix to Speedos, before it was shuttled off to its final destination. The crates on all sides provided excellent cover, to be sure, but they were a visual impediment that he could have done without.

The sound of his voice had driven Adrian from hiding once before… perhaps it would work again.

“Federal Agent,” he announced, eyes cautiously moving to the corners. “Show yourself!”

Still no movement, still no sound.

Pressing his back to a crate, he cornered it swiftly, leading with his weapon and advancing in that same soft-footed stalk. This was dangerous territory; bad enough to have leapt headlong into this situation without backup, but his senses weren’t exactly sharp enough to identify the minute changes that would revealed the enemy. Reaching to his jacket pocket, he strung out a short, coiled cord, and hooked the receiver on his ear.

“Cassie.”

He’d almost begun to worry when her voice emerged from the silence.

“Court, where the hell are you?”

“Warehouse. Can’t be sure, but I think it must be the one we saw sitting at the employee dock.”

“Did you find the guy?”

Slowly, lowering his weapon in both hands, he searched the darkness. “No. But I know where he is. How’s the girl?”

“Fine, she’s starting to come around. Whatever he gave her must have hit her fast, but she didn’t take too much of it. I’ve got security bringing her around to the infirmary. I’m coming after you – and no argument this time.”

“You won’t get one. Make it fast.”

“I’m already on my way.”

“Good… I have a feeling this guy isn’t working al—“

Equisite pain exploded at the base of his skull, and his vision swung violently before another, duller impact struck his temple, and a gunshot deadened one ear. He felt the cold cement against his jaw as he hit the ground, and Cassie’s voice through the earpiece, distorted with panic, fearfully calling his name.

[doggo]

Oh no! What a cliffhanger! I'm waiting SO much to read more...

[girl_in_love]

Oh yeah, I agree, write more soon???

Love

~*Jill*~

[count tiszula]

This is so exciting; and |I don't just mean the sneezing; action sneezefics must be the coming trend!

Now, you're not going to deny us the promised sneezing while hiding, surely? I mean you've got a tall, dark, handsome secret agent chasing a villain through a warehouse and youare worried that SwH would be too much?

[starpollen]

No fair! You can't end there! I am anxiously awaiting more - as I'm sure are many others.

Great job - writing a fic so good it keeps us all on tenterhooks. Congratulations. Now POST!

[jezebel215]

this is wonderful, as usual. thank-you for writing! and please, write more!

[ellwren]

This is so good! I can't wait!