Three-shot.

Inspired by 'Chuck', but does not really follow the show.

Also inspired by Santana's 'pigeon' scene.

/

"Agents Ellis, Moore, Bennett and Ong—good morning!" The small uniformed woman on the screen greets her former agents, collectively known as the Clandestine Attack Team Squad or C.

"Good morning, General Rhodes." The group greets in unison.

"I called the four of you back here after five long years, because of a highly classified—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt General..." The hazel-eyed blonde clears her throat as she looks at her former teammates, unimpressed, "but I was made to believe that I'll be working alone?"

"That's a misinformation, Agent Ellis." General Rhodes offers a knowing smile at her former ward. "I am recalling your team because of a very important mission that I won't be giving to anybody of lesser caliber than the four of you. Individually, you're all impressive. But as a team? You're unbeatable. So..." The general's face disappears from the screen, only to be replaced with photos of what seems to be a very advanced-looking bomb, "at 23:03 yesterday, we received an intel about this latest version of an atomic bomb scheduled to detonate on one of ten possible locations all around the globe. Our analysts have been trying to decode series of codes believed to be detailed information regarding the whereabouts of the said bomb."

"General, you mean to say that the perpetrators deliberately sent us the message?" The smallest blonde asks, her eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Agent Bennett. The evidence leads us to believe that we are being taunted. They sent a lot of details about the bomb and we have a different team trying to find ways on how to diffuse it. But I regret to inform you that to date, our specialists have yet to see anything of this kind."

"I don't understand, General..." Agent Moore trails on, her blue eyes focused on the huge screen in front of the team. "Where do we get in when not even the specialists can pinpoint the exact location of the bomb?"

"You will be working with a special agent personally handpicked by our Director. Agent Brown will be arriving whenever she deems fit. So I want all of you to be on the look out, for when she decides to show up, it's game on."

"Agent Brown?" Agent Ong narrows her eyes at the name that has been mentioned time and time again within the agency.

"Agent Brown has had a lot of successful high-profile missions in the past couple of years. You might have heard of them, but I'm sure you haven't seem them. At all. Agent Brown likes to keep to herself."

"General, I'll be happy to join the mission with my own partner—"

"Agent Ellis, Langley said all available hands. Agent Bennett, due to your recent injury, you'll be monitoring the mission from the control room together with the rest of our analysts."

"General, we're not a team anymore." Agent Ellis says defiantly, her face hard and cold.

"This order is from the top. Agent Ellis." General Rhodes glares at her hard-headed agent. "The C.A.T.S. are back." The general states before the screen shows nothing but the agency's logo.

/

"Is this some sort of a sick joke or something?" Agent Moore hisses as she rakes her eyes at the courtyard, her mind telling her not to look at the brown door on her right.

"Isn't this—" Agent Bennett narrows her eyes at the place she last saw over five years ago, but before she could finish her question, she's readily cut off by Agent Ellis.

"Great." Agent Ellis rolls her eyes at their current predicament. "We're at the nerd's nest? Dandy."

"Okay, now this is getting ridiculous. Why are we here?" Agent Moore asks, clearly pissed.

"Look, Brit—"

"Don't call me that, Bennett." Agent Moore growls as she picks up her bag, flings it on her shoulders and heads for the Echo Park's exit.

"Oh come on." Agent Bennett chuckles dryly. "Still salty over your failed plan to elope with—"

"You shut your mouth, you traitorous bitch." Agent Moore rushes towards her old teammate, her arm trapping Agent Bennett's neck before the rest of their ex-partners could stop her. With one swift motion, Agent Bennett had the taller blonde's arms flung away from her neck as she delivers a swift kick on Agent Moore's shin.

"Watch your mouth, Pierce."

"Okay, knock it off, you two." Agent Ong rolls her eyes at her companions' antics, but her words are drowned out as the two continue to exchange jabs and punches.

"This is getting good." Agent Ellis smirks in amusement as she watches the two battle it out in the courtyard.

/

"You still got that right jab, Brit." Agent Bennett chuckles as she feels the blood drips from her nose.

"You want some more, Kitty?" Agent Moore pants as she holds up her hands, her stance projecting a ready and fierce warrior.

"Ohhhh..." Kitty sniggers. "Believe me, I can take whatever you throw at me. But don't you dare call me a traitor!"

"You are though, aren't you?" Agent Moore growls. "Where do you get off with backstabbing everyone, huh?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Pierce, I told no one no shit!"

"You're a traitor." Agent Moore hisses as she delivers yet another blow to the side of Agent Bennett's face, knocking her to the ground. "You're a traitor, and that's what you'll always be in my eyes. You can't change that." Agent Moore spats as she grabs her duffel bag before striding out of the courtyard, and out of the apartment complex. She's a few feet away from her ex-teammates when the familiar sound of a helicopter envelops the whole vicinity as it obviously nears the complex.

"Ooohhh!" The sound from the helicopter fills the agents' ears.

"What the fuck?" Agent Ellis scrunches her forehead at their current predicament.

"What the hell is going on?" Agent Ong squints her eyes as the light from the helicopter focuses on her face. "The fuck?" The agent yells as she sees long black ropes whip down from the plane followed by two leather-clad people—with their head covered with what seems to be black bonnets—sliding down from the said ropes.

"Hello, Agents." The smaller of the two leather-clad people mutters as she removes her bonnet, revealing the face of one...

"Motta?" Agent Ellis mumbles, disbelief painted on her face as she comes face to face with the girl she last saw more than half a decade ago.

"Hey Quinn." 'Motta' winks at Agent Ellis before looking to her side as she waits for her companion to reveal herself.

"Hello, CATs." 'Motta's' companion slowly removes her bonnet, her hair flowing in soft curls as she does so. She's about to speak some more, but before she could, a lone pigeon flies over her head, eliciting a squeal of surprise from the latest agent to arrive. "Fucking hell Sugar! I thought these stupid birds have been removed here?"

"Santana?" Agent Ong's body tenses at the sight in front of her. Beside her, Agents Ellis, Moore, and Bennett have their mouths agape in disbelief.

"Hey Tina. It's Brown, by the way." Santana smiles as she looks at the familiar faces in front of her.

"What the hell..."

"I heard we'll be working together." Santana beams. "So, where do we start?"

/

"What I don't understand is..." Agent Bennett trails on as she occupies the only remaining spot between Agent 'Brown' and 'Moore', an ice pack pressed against the side of her face, "...why are here? At your old place?"

"General Rhodes believes that there are moles within the agency. This whole apartment complex had been secretly bought by the agency and will be the official base of operations for this mission." Sugar Motta answers as her partner seems to be having this long standing stare down with the living room carpet.

"I think the bigger question is," Agent Ellis frowns as her gaze darts between Agent Moore and Santana. "what the hell is going on with you, Santana? I mean, what is this?"

"Well, believe or not, Fabray, the two of us are legit agents now." Sugar huffs in irritation at Quinn's underlying belittlement. To her consternation, Quinn just laughs in her face.

"Come on. We have better things to do. Save us the bullshit."

"Shut up, Fabray." Santana blurts out, earning a raised brow from Quinn. "You think we're playing here?"

"Shit." Quinn frowns, realization dawning on her. "You're actually not joking."

"Duh." Sugar rolls her eyes at Quinn's words.

"Look, it's been years. I know you have lots of questions." Santana sighs. "But we're not here to answer them. We're here because we were ordered to. The directive is to work with the four of you in one: identifying the location of the bomb; and two: stopping it from detonating."

"We're not exactly experts on that. What we do is go kill the bad guys after they have been identified." Quinn huffs.

"I think you will still do that." Santana shrugs. "General Rhodes will be speaking to us in a while to give us the first lead."

/

"Brit, did you hear? Did Quinn tell you they're moving me to a training facility?" Santana asked with a barely contained excitement. "I'm gonna be a real spy!"

"I know, I heard. Come here." Brittany muttered, worry etched on her face as she grabbed Santana by the wrist, leading her to a secluded room.

"What's the matter?" Santana frowned.

"If you do this? If you go? You're going to be a spy for the rest of your life. Every city is gonna be a new mission and a new identity. And you're not going to be the same person."

"Yeah. Isn't that a great thing?" Santana questioned. "Brit, I won't be just that weakling of an asset. That member of the team who stays in the car during missions. Who's just asked to pour over countless files and clips and videos and asked to read books the moment she wakes up until she's too tired to even sleep."

"Santana—"

"Tina was laughing in my face, Brit. She kicked my ass during that practice round. It was a practice round for her."

"San—"

"I mean, I'm so tired of being scared, Brit. My hand shakes everytime you ask me to hold your gun for you for a while. I don't even know how to punch. I can't run half as fast as you can and I'm just a freaking laughingstock!"

"Santana, you're not!" Brittany hissed. "You're not, alright? You help the team more than anybody else. You have a gift. You recall everything. Everything, Santana. You drew the entire skyline of that Asian city after a helicopter ride, remember? You can recite all the details you've read about highly classified cases starting from a century ago. Your mind is a freaking storage machine, Santana. Of a lot of information not found in the internet!"

"Sure." Santana rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's words. "But you shoot me with that stupid tranquilizer gun, Brit. A lot of times. You tranq me so I wouldn't come with you."

"You always put up a good fight." Brittany looked at Santana sheepishly. "That's something..."

"You even handcuffed me once in the car so I won't get out."

"Because it's for your own protection, Santana!"

"Yeah? What if you're not there to protect me, huh?"

"That will not happen."

"But Brit—"

"If you do that, you're not going to be the same person. Trust me, Santana. I know what it's like."

"Brit—"

"Santana, listen. We could..." Brittany sighed as she looked around to ensure that they're still alone.

"We could what?"

"We could run..." Brittany whispered. "Together. You and me. We run now and we never look back."

"Are you serious?" Santana asked, wide-eyed.

"I have money saved up. I have to create an escape route. Get us some new identities. But for now, you go to the training facility in Basel. Then give me a month." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand. "Give me a month and then meet me at the Basel Swiss train station at nine o'clock. Don't contact me. At all. Just come to the station."

"What are you saying, Brit?"

"I'm saying I want to be a real person again. I want to be with you. Live normally with you. That's what you want. right? I mean..." Brittany bit her bottom lip as she looked at Santana expectantly, "this is it, Santana. Will you run away with me?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Will you?"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Santana smiled. "I'll run away with you."

/

"No, wait. Tina, can you zoom in on that part? Lower right, beneath letter 'b'..." Santana asks as she places her spoon back to her bowl.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Tina questions, tired and sleepy and a little peeved that the rest of her companions have already retired for the night—leaving her with Santana and Sugar to analyze the rest of the photos.

"That wall behind the letter? It looks very familiar. I just can't say exactly where I've seen it..."

"Really, Santana?" Tina huffs. "There's about a million walls around the world that looks like that wall. Heck, my bedroom wall looks a little like that."

"Well maybe the bomb's in your room." Santana spats sarcastically. Despite all her success, she can't forget the time when Tina would mock her. And right now? Tina's looking at her the same way she did all those years ago when Santana would fudge even the simple task of holding a gun.

"Okay!" Sugar interjects. "How about we call it a night and continue this in the morning? We're all tired and I think everybody's going to benefit with having some rest."

"Whatever." Tina shrugs as she moves to head to one of the rooms. "Hey, Sugar? Have you ever shot yourself while cleaning your gun?"

"No?" Sugar frowns.

"Santana then?"

"Fuck you Tina." Santana spats. "Ong suits you by the way."

"Whatever, Santana. Don't trip on your shoelaces, alright?"

/

"Oww! What the hell?!" Santana yelps in pain as her back is shoved hard against the granite exterior wall of her old apartment. "Brit?" Santana frowns as she feels her cigarette slip out of her fingers. "Shit!"

"You." Brittany grabs the collar of Santana's leather jacket tighter before she shoves her against the wall harder. "Inside," The taller woman glares before she spats, "now!"

/

"Explain yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, explain, why you did what you did."

"You know why I did what I did, Brit—"

"It's Agent Moore for you. And no, I need to hear why." Brittany hisses, her nostrils flaring in anger.

"Why do you need to hear it? Isn't the fact that I wanted to be a real spy like you not enough?"

"You weren't supposed to be one—"

"Well, tough shit, Agent Moore. That's not your call to make. I was asked if I wanted to be a real agent. I said yes. They trained me. I passed. I'm an agent. Get over it."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"No, I get it alright. All I could see right now, is you and your fellow cats still trying to mock me. Subtle, but still mocking. Twitter update, Agent Moore! I'm not the same old weak Santana who can't defend herself."

Brittany just looks at Santana, her eyes boring into brown ones as she tries to read the other woman. There's something there. Something that Brittany could not define.

"What happened to you, Santana?" Brittany whispered.

"Weren't you listening to what I just said? I—"

"No." Brittany shakes her head in frustration. "What happened that day?"

"What day?"

"Santana. Please."

With a sigh, Santana mutters bluntly. "I changed my mind."

"But—"

"It wasn't just that day, Brit. It was—no," Santana shakes her head, as if trying to shake something intrinsic off, "it was nothing. I just changed my mind."

With difficulty, Santana manages to get herself off Brittany's hold. "I'm tired." The smaller woman mutters under her breath as she swiftly gets away from Brittany and heads towards her room.

/

This is going to be the shortest of all my stories. Two, three chapters tops.