A new day. A new chance to shine.

There she was again, sitting at the café, drinking cheap coffee and reading the comics from the daily paper. It was a tranquil scene—one Spy wouldn't normally want to intrude upon, but time was of the essence. That is to say, this break was far too short.

He cleared his throat as he approached her, blue-suited, all-American American guise perfectly in place, and she jumped at the sound. "My-Wh-Don't yuh know it's common courtesy tuh wait three days befoah callin', contactin', or seein' uh date?"

"Yes, yes." Spy waved off her comment and sat across from her, "But I'm afraid I'll be leaving tomorrow and I want all I can get of you." She seemed to choke on any words she had, "Besides, what would your, ah, significant other say about that?"

"Wh—oh, right." She played around with the charm on her bracelet, "It was just—old habit." She was so cute when she was flustered, and how her lips played about the rim of that coffee mug—God help him. Spy was falling for this woman faster than a Scout hopped up on Bonk cola.

She cleared her throat, "So. Tomorruh?"

"I'm going back home."

"I knew yuh didn't live around town." She smirked into her coffee, "So are yuh one uh those guys who gets his kicks from hittin' on women when he's in a new city?" Her eyes narrowed on him suddenly, "Yuh not one uh those married types who tries tuh—"

"No." He cut her off, "No, quite single, I assure you."

"A nice guy with outstanding coluh choices in clothing like you?" She paused to observe him, "Yeah, sounds about right." She closed her paper and surveyed the ocean. After taking a deep breath of salty sea air she asked, "Where are yuh from, Mistuh?"

"Oh, here and there."

"Sounds mighty suspicious if yuh ask me." If she leaned a little closer he could almost catch a glimpse of cleavage, "Why the mystery, mystery man?"

"Doesn't it make me more appealing?"

"I suppose." She leaned back—damn, the view was getting so good, "But I feel left out. Yuh seem to know moah about me than I do of you." Her jaw slanted left, "That's hardly fair."

"In time, my lady." Spy assured the BLU lady, "I admit I only know what you have told me personally, and that you enjoy sitting here on pleasant mornings with a cup of coffee. Also your shoe size."

"Yuh still ahead of me yuh know."

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Well, add this tuh yuh list." She had his full attention now. Something new? Something different in the mind of his BLU babe? "I enjoy gettin' a bit messy every once in a while, and I don't mind hangin' around thuh scum uh Boston. Howsabout you and I make up fuh that dinnuh disastuh?" He couldn't help but flinch. He had planned it out so perfectly. To have dinner ruined by a waiter was just so cliché.

"Alright." He tried to put on a smile, but could only wonder where she was planning. Scum of the earth? Mon dieu.

"You. Me. Joe's Clam shack. All yuh can eat seafood. Bring yuh bib, cuz honey, yuh gonna need it." The glow in her eye was dangerous—carnal. He didn't realize she had such a passion for cheap seafood.

"I can't say I've ever been." Spy choked out. Messy dining was never his thing, but for her? Anything.

"I'll take yuh. Easy to walk tuh, actually, if yuh don't mind." She turned back to the view of the harbor, "No need tuh dress fancy. I'll even pay."

"That is hardly acceptable." He jumped at that, "I don't mind paying for—"

"Nonsense. Yuh practically uh foreignuh!" Oh, if only she knew, "Maybe us locals can be a little hospitable sometimes, yeah?"

"If the lady insists…" It truly was against his morals

"I do. Also, about yuh name—"

"Tonight." He stood up at that—a gesture that made her frown, "Tonight perhaps I shall tell you."

"Perhaps? Quit stringin' me along, Mistuh!"

"Now, now, it is perfectly acceptable for two people to be friends and never know one another's name. Why, when I was younger I knew a—"

"I don't care fuh yuh stories, I just want a name!" She was quite persistent, that BLU beauty.

"Tonight." He inclined his head, "I'll be around, say, 6?"

"Yes, yes." She sighed wearily, "Bring an appetite." That was one promise Spy was certain he could keep.

/

Adjusting a mask was never a problem, but heaven help him if it ever came off. Tonight was not a night he wanted to mess up. He was still put off by the first disaster. How could that have happened? He had planned it out in his head so perfectly! Ah well, no matter, tonight would be different. Tonight it would be him and the BLU babe eating clams by the dozen by the beach.

Ah, perhaps leaving for her place now would be smart. He didn't want to be late. So, with the brand new slightly-casual mask in place, he set off for her house.

He didn't expect to pass by her son. He didn't expect to hear him muttering about his "stupid, anoyin' mom's dumb old date bullshit." He did, however, expect it when he passed by and paid Spy no heed. Spy was, in fact, disguised, why on earth would the BLU idiot even notice? The BLU Scout was among the dumbest of the dumb, this Spy knew.

The walk didn't take long, and the evening was pleasant. He was there before he even knew it. She greeted him like an old friend, clad in her usual blue garb, and told him to get ready for the best damn seafood of his life. "I can hardly wait." He replied as cheerfully as possible, but dreaded the possible outcome of buttery sleeves. It seemed all of his table manners would have to be shoved aside for a night. But for her, anything.

Anything.

It was a strange thought, to want to give a woman anything. This woman, at least. She was the enemy—the mother of an enemy. And here he was, falling for her, and all of the little things that made her the BLU Scout's mother. "It's so nice out this evenin'." The BLU babe cut into Spy's musings, "Yuh picked a great time tuh visit Boston, it's hahdly evuh this pleasant fuh so many days straight."

"Well, I had the time, and I do enjoy the view." He wasn't talking about the ocean of course, but her gaze still went to it.

"Yeah, it's somethin' alright." For a little while they walked in silence, and although Spy was quite accustomed to silence, he found that for once it was uncomfortable and unwelcome. He floundered for something to say, but needed time to think over his words in case he should say something that was, well, creepy.

"Have you lived in Boston long?"

"All my life." She replied with a grin, "Probably always will. Nowhere else appeals tuh me, yuh know? I like familiarity I guess. How about you, mistuh? Will you tell me where yuh from now?"

"Well…" Spy trailed off, where would his character be from? "I grew up here and there. Minnesota, New York, Tennessee."

"Yuh don't sound southern."

"I lived there later."

"Whereabouts?"

"A little town somewhere outside Nashville."

"Did yuh like it down there?"

"No, I much prefer the north." Generalizations were always a good start, Spy figured. He should have thought out this character through earlier. It would have made this easier, he knew, but in the heat of the moment he'd just forgotten all protocol.

"Yuh lived in New York though?" She sounded hesitant, "Yuh not a Yankees fan ah yuh?"

"Er, ah, no. Not at all." Baseball team, right, baseball was one of her passions, "Though I do enjoy baseball."

"So what is yuh favorite team then?"

"Well, I must say the Red Sox aren't all that bad."

"Damn right, they're the best!" She grinned from ear to ear, "Yuh bettuh not be just sayin' that tuh get on my good side, Mistuh."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Before Spy knew it, they'd arrived at the well-lit shack on the boardwalk, crammed with people and tables laden with fresh catches. His mouth watered at the sight of the lobster. Lord knew he could eat ten of those little critters right then.

"Ey Joe!" The BLU babe shouted above the loud drone of the customers, "I need uh table!" A large, greasy man behind the counter looked up and gave a knowing smile. He gestured to the back and before Spy knew what was happening, the woman had grabbed his hand and led him to the procured table. "It gets a little loud in here!" She shouted back

"You don't say!" Spy could only do so much to keep from rolling his eyes. Remember, keep the sarcasm to a minimum, most women don't appreciate it. Right. Bon.

It was crowded in there. Very crowded. And smoky. Maybe she wouldn't mind if he just had one—

"Gawd, sometimes I just can't stand thuh smoke though. Evuh since I quit I've just wanted one so bad." Well, guess smoking was off the menu. Spy decided to just deal with the cravings and instead indulge in her, "Ah you starin' at my chest?" And that was quickly looking like the wrong thing to do.

"Ah, er, no." Spy spluttered, "Merely admiring your necklace."

"This old thing?" She played with the pearls, "Yeah sure, bud." She smirked, "Tell me anothuh." The two sipped on beer until the first round of clams came. Spy wasn't one for beer, or swill, as he liked to call it, but if it made her happy. So be it.

"So will yuh tell me yuh name or what?" She asked as she piled her empty shells in neat stacks, "Or am I gonna call you 'Mistuh' forevuh?"

"Mistuh' is just fine with me." Spy responded through bites of clam, "Besides, I don't know your name either."

"You are thuh one who approached me, I think I should have thuh courtesy of yuh name first."

"The lady makes a fine point, but what if I never indulge you with my name?"

"That's not fair."

"Is it not?"

"No. What kind uh friend doesn't let on theyuh name?" She seemed flustered, annoyed by his anonymity.

"Sometimes a nickname is all one needs."

"Ugh." She shook her head, "I don't unduhstand you, Mistuh." He tried to change the topic, to keep her spirits up in light of the fact that he wouldn't give her a name. There wasn't one he could quite come up with in a snap that seemed fitting. It didn't really matter. It wasn't like this would be a thing. Right?

She wasn't really all that interested in him. Right?

She did laugh at his jokes, and talked about herself quite freely. She was impressed at his knowledge of guns, but disappointed at his preference of pistols. "Shotguns ah so much bettuh. More powuhful."

"Sometimes precision is better than power."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." She waved off his reasoning, "Actually, I'm just impressed that yuh weren't scared away by my hobbies."

"No, I like a strong woman who can fend for herself." She smiled at that, but said nothing.

Dinner seemed to end too fast, but by Spy's watch it was quite late. "Spose I should get payin'." The BLU beauty reached for her purse, but Spy, ever the gentleman, stopped her.

"I insist." He pulled out his wallet

"No, dammit, I said I'd pay." She extracted a coin purse and with a snap, opened it

"This goes against all of my morals."

"Welcome to the 20th century, bub." She hailed a waiter and handed him the cash before Spy could even find the words to protest, "Some of us can pay fuh thuh dates now." She jabbed a thumb at herself and got up quite suddenly. He followed suit.

"Don't be offended." He told her as they left the crowded, brightly lit clam shack, "I'm just not used to this is all."

"Yeah, yeah." She sighed, "Spose I just get wound up a bit sometimes…"

How to make it up to her? Spy kicked himself for getting into this rut, but how was he supposed to know? Think, think. Ah. "Would you care for some dessert, perhaps?"

"Dessert…?" Her eyes lit up. Even in the dim of the streetlights and shops he could see her interest piqued.

"Would the lady like ice cream, maybe?" He knew she couldn't resist chocolate ice cream. She lived for that frozen treat. She lived for cocoa.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't mind." She tried to play it off, but he saw her for what she was. He stifled a chuckle as he offered his arm and led her down the boardwalk.

"Ah, I love chocolate ice cream." She sighed contently as the two enjoyed their treat by the road, "Not great fuh thuh figure, but, eh…"

"I think you look perfect."

"Oh, please." Even in the dark he felt her blushing.

It was then that he realized that he really didn't want to leave. He still had so much to learn about this BLU Bostonian. He felt like he had only hit the tip of the iceberg. But work was something he couldn't avoid. He was a mercenary. A killer. A paid killer. And after all o this, he'd need all the pay he could get.

"I nevuh met anyone who liked vanilla though." She gestured at Spy's half eaten cone.

"Ah, well, maybe I'm just boring."

"Nah, I wouldn't say that."

It was quiet on the walk back. They walked slowly, steadily, back to her house. Her arm was linked in his the entirety of the way, and he wished that it would never end. That he had the gall to invite himself in and sweep the woman off of her feet.

No, no. Play it safe, play it slow. She wasn't a floozy, nor one of those easy-to-gets. She was a different type of woman. One who wasn't swayed by fancy dinners and expensive drinks. She was simple, and yet in that way, so very complicated. Spy had never tried to woo such a woman. He'd never been interested in one before.

"Yuh can let go uh me." Her angelic voice interrupted his thought process, "I need tuh get my key…" How had they already reached her door? Damn. Why did it all have to end?

"Well, ah," She nervously rubbed her neck, "Thanks fuh accompanying me tonight."

"It was my pleasure." Now was his chance. Just step a little closer,

"Seems uh shame it had tuh end so soon." Her voice was low, quiet

"Indeed it does." Shut up, just kiss her! Wait, no, bad idea, stop looking so desperate. Just inch forward a little, hand around the waist. Yes, pull her in, no not like that, mon dieu.

She opened her mouth to say something, but only a small sigh escaped her lips. He descended upon them, he needed a taste. Just one to dwell on in the months to come. One to give him a reason to come back and have more. She accepted it, to his surprise, and let him hold her close as he gently kissed those luscious lips of hers. When he broke away he was staring into deep pools of blue that threatened to consume him.

"Er, Mistuh?" The moment was broken by her angelic voice, "Do yuh…smoke?"

"Oh. Um." He did his best not to drop her out of sheer embarrassment. How could he have let that slip him mind! Had the smoke really permeated every part of his mouth that nothing in the past four hours had masked it? "Well, yes, occasionally. I'm so sorry if it offends you."

"No, just…" She fished for the words, and noticed she was still clinging to him, "Damn. Damn you." She pushed away, "Gawd I've been tryin' to get off that shit for months."

"My deepest apologi—"

"Don't apologize, just—just—" She was floundering, and when she couldn't find her words, grabbed his tie and pulled him in, "Just promise tuh write." She gave him one final kiss before disappearing into her house and leaving him there on the porch with a satisfied grin.

God, how he wished the vacation could last forever.