"You hadn't cared to work hatless for more than a year. You're sure you aren't Irish?"

"At least there is no mistaking about the poor part. You still have blood on your glasses, you know?" He handed her a napkin she gladly accepted.

They were standing in the back alley behind the unfortunate theatre. He still sported towering pile of hats but she lost her pretty beanie. Just ten minutes ago they were in the middle of a joyful fight, when the inevitable glass ceiling broke into thousand pieces.

"HOW DID YOU DARE TO START FIGHTING WITHOUT ME!"

Everyone looked at the man at the center of the room, who was great, half- naked, very Australian and unmistakably Saxon Hale. Spy momentarily dropped whatever innocent object he used to stab people and pulled his boss towards exit.

"What are you doing? I will need to report him on this!"

"There are at least three hundred other people who can do it instead of you." The man uttered under his breath as he tried to dodge mobster's bodies that started to fly all over the room thanks to the ancient power of punching. "Besides, I do not wish to be accused of murdering people that Saxon Hale wanted to hit." This shut her up and they maneuvered out of the place hand in hand.

"Well, so much about trying to get away from work." Spy stated. "All I wanted was a quiet night out, but it looks like one cannot hope to escape what he is meant to do."

"Oh, because you didn't enjoyed it one bit." She said, unable to constrain her smile.

"Only owning to your presence. Truce?" He looked her in the eye with a deadpan expression

"Truce, but you still owe me a drink and proper apology." She said cheekily. "And I'm not going anywhere with a man with a headgear three feet high."

"You are as beautiful as cruel, mademoiselle." Spy muttered as he shove hats into pockets of his suit, conveniently equipped with Hammer space®.

"So where do you usually take girls that you drag into gunfights?" Chin tipped down, she looked at him through her eyelashes.

"Nothing usual would suit you. Let me invite you for a finest meal you could ever hope to dine, Camille."

"Since when are we on the first name basis?"

"We are not, only me. Or do you happen to know my name?"

'Well then just tell me or I will just call you Spy out loud in public."

"That would be a clear breach of our contract and you know it" He mimicked her words and she looked sideways to hide her embarrassment.

He led her through narrow alleys with dwellings just few feet apart, staring at one another with battered, wooden windows. As they stranded from the centre of the city, the glass and steel turned into brick which in turn was replaced by concrete and paper-thin tenement- housing. The streetlights grew more spare and even condominiums' windows didn't offer much lighting. She cringed her nose, when distinctive stink of rot and burned rubber hit her nostrils. Like leaves, the bits of paper and cellophane covered uneven pavement. She wasn't certain anymore, that following BLU Spy was a smart decision. She drew herself up and the man noticed her uneasiness.

"There is nothing to be afraid of. You have a weapon on yourself and I would never think of letting anything to happen to you."

"I'm not scared neither of dark alleys nor you. You fear Administrator too much to try to pull anything."

"That may be true." His expression remained deadly serious and she calmed down.

They arrived at the beaten-up three stores building. Spy opened the door and she stepped into the room which turned out to be a bland diner. She raised her eyebrow. So this is the place that offered the finest meals in the city? All this cigarette smoke must have damaged his taste buds.

He led her to one of the slightly battered tables and promised to be back as soon as he will clear things up with the staff. What was there to clear up, she did not know. She tried to observe the street, but the view of ancient, decayed sofa and two overflowing dumpsters turned out to be too depressing to look at. She resolved to watch her nails, as the Spy's pertractations with employees kept dragging on.

"Bring the owner, she knows me."

Her nails sported a color one traditionally might have called something between eggplant and washed off imperial. However, anyone with a slightest sense of fashion would know it could only be the Deep commitment to purple.

"Please choose something from the menu, sir."

"I know you have cheese soup here. And Ms. Carrie owns me a favor."

Two months ago she came up with a brilliant idea to implement new nail polish brand based on paints used for coloring 's hats. It was all too easy for Administrator to establish , a small cosmetic company, as expansion of the TF industries.

"Boss, he wanted to see you."

"Who the hell are you?"

The first five batches were bought out in a matter of hours and women all over States couldn't get enough of these new, fanciful colors. While provision for her concept was more than generous, Administrator kindly reminded her that the notion was her and her alone. Meaning she was the one to answer all of Saxon Hale's anger, were he to find out about unauthorized use of his brand. Well, at least she could cherish her free samples. That is until buff Australian will come barging at her door.

Wait. Did she just hear cheese soup?

"The one who lives above this establishment."

"Who?"

He lived here, although he could afford to rent a whole hotel for himself? The whole situation was getting very informative.

"The one who scared off the muggers the other night."

"Who again? Your name Mister!"

"I am the one who got your dog to the vet the other day and saved Claire from fishkill!"

"I said to tell me your name!"

The mercenary sighted. He took a piece of clothing out of his pocket and drawn it on his head. The moment the woman saw the balaclava, she beamed.

"Oh, the crazy ski mask gentleman! Two plates of our best soup for our guest and his lovely date!"

She growled internally. Not only was she on something of a date with a slimy spy, he treated her to cheese soup! She tried not to look disappointed, when he joyfully put the plates on the table.

"The finest meal in Teufort, as I promised." He looked so pleased with himself, she resigned and decided to give it a try. She dipped the spoon in yellowish blend and brought hot liquid to her lisps.

This must have been the way ambrosia tasted. It was as if every little pleasure she ever experienced came back to her all at once. The smell of freshly brewed coffee. The raspberry ice cream on a particularly hot Sunday. The feel of a silky pillow after twelve hours of work and another two of driving back home. The view of the sea, waves so calm and serene, one could see the sand beneath water, marked with golden strikes of light. Some bastard's reflection on her polished gun. The moment Administrator drinks her water and thus shuts up. Every little thing that made her smile during last month, was back and now they all tasted like cheese.

"How is it possible for a cheeses soup to be this good?" She was still hearing angelic chorus accompanied by a banjo.

"A generous use of secret mix of herbs, I presume. Or opium. It is hard to tell."

BLU Spy watched her with content as she shoved another spoon in her mouth.

"May I ask, how did you know I was BLU? It is quite a feat to tell us apart, when were not in our uniforms."

" Your voices are different. The Red's is a bit lower." Also, the RED spook's loyal to Scout's mother and would never hit on helpless assistants. "What does Cinest mean anyway?"

"Film goer." Spy said it nonchalanly, as he concertrated on his own plate of liquid delicacy.

"Film goer? That's all?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Nothing more."

"You really can't expect a girl not to ask question when she gets in the middle of mafia's attack and great, big, bad mobsters welcome her companion as one of their buddies."

"First my face and now this. It is not my best day."

"Until the end of the night I will probably now your worst childhood nightmares and which of your aunt you hated the most."

"You realize, I like being mysterious? It is what people like in spies: mystery."

"Or maybe you just act mysterious, so others won't find out how dull you are." She pushed her eyeglasses up her nose. "Now finally, tell me about mafia and this film going business or no hats this week and I will make sure to inform your team who can they thank for it." She gave him the sweetest smile and he mimicked her expression, always suave and collected. Save for this twitching eyebrow that is.

"Camille, you are going to get me sacked shall you continue to outdo me in my duties. I thought that spies are supposed to be master blackmailers." He sighted dramatically. "As you guessed, I was a mafia member, the French one to be precise. " He looked at her amused expression and added quickly. "Yes, there is no such thing as French Mafia, I know. Maybe that's the reason our company didn't track it down and let's hope it will stay this way." He looked at her expectantly and she promptly bowed her head in agreement. Processing man's story could wait till tomorrow. When all is said and done, she could simply order a background check on all mercenaries. He may be the best informant they employed, but he wasn't the only one. Still, she wasn't as convincing as she believed herself to be.

"Please, understand. Nobody wants their new employer to know he was engaged in criminal activities. References from Don never look good on ones resume." He seized her up again.

"A Don of nonexistent mafia to boot. Worry not, I will not pry further into this matter." She looked him in the eye in her best attempt to look completely sincere but Spy only smirked. His gaze dropped to the table and he started fiddling with his spoon.

"Well, you are not the only one to write reports. As you probably know, I also write briefings on both teams, as this Red bastard is to lazy to write anything about his band of incompetent imbeciles…" The spoon was now spinning on his middle finger.

"Or he simply deems it unethical to snitch on his teammates." She noticed in a very small voice.

"Regardless! Because of him I have twice as much work. Back to the point: when I said I have to write a report on a whole team, I also have to write one on myself. That includes all of my encounters and what may transpire in witnessed conversations."

She cringed. That awful bastard!

"Don't even try it. And you don't have anything on me." His quiet laugh made frown.

"Really? Correct me if I am wrong, but you used most descriptive words concerning our benevolent administrator today." Brows raised high, he leaned back in his chair.

The nerve of that man! She kicked herself mentally for her stupidity. After working so long for TF Industriess, she should know better than babble nonsense to some self-appointed aligator- Dundee dentists.

" I promise not to say a word about this to anyone." It took all her self-control not to slap him. "Were you really a film geek?"

"More than a geek, I actually attended film school. I was going to spend my life on stage. Unfortunately, the German gentlemen with poor haircut and ridiculous facial hair crushed my dreams of fame and I had to join Mafia in order to survive and my acting skills turned out to be very helpful in my new line of work."

"As in tricking innocent girls into believing you are pulling out alligators' teeth for a living. "

"In my defense, it was not a complete lie. Being a spy can be horribly dull. You mostly code some information about your current workplace, leave it somewhere inconspicuous for a messenger and return to your everyday lethargy until next month. I decided to dabble in something more exciting if only not to fall into dreary routine. I have seen too many of my colleagues became turn cloaks of sheer boredom."

"Luckily you can't complain about that now."

"Not to mention the pay is better and I can do as much surveillance work as I want."

She budged at the sound of the word. It reminded her of this little, stupid advert. As expected, nobody called her back. Well, it could be worse. It still escaped her, how Scout could not notice her advert, right below his own. She quickly asked another question.

"How come you live here, then? Don't you own a mansion in Green Gables?"

"My house got Soldier infested." His expression turned sour. "You remember, how I told you about Heavy and his Tooth-Fairy-wishing business? Soldiers wish was to get a new roommate. Guess who was the lucky guy." He exhaled heavily." Now my house is full of mayonnaise and raccoons. If it wasn't blown up, that is."

"That's terrible. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, where I live is of no importance."

She didn't know how to respond to his remark and neither of them spoke anything. For few silent minutes she was subjected to BLU Spy's stare. She averted her gaze and glanced at her surrounding but the dreary exterior of the diner made her even more nervous. She saw they were clearly overstaying their welcome, as the look on the waitress face spoke volumes. She turned back to her partner and got caught again in his assessing gaze. The prolonged exposure to his piercing eyes was disconcerting to say the least and she started to feel uncomfortable. When she tried to say something, he suddenly broke the silence.

"You were going to college, Camille?" She blinked. That was unexpected. "Yes, I was going to Radcliff. Just when I graduated the Industries hired me right away. "

"The best education establishment this country has to offer for a finer sex, I see. And you surely exceeded all expectations. " Where was he going with this?

"It is a bit too much to say but I managed to keep on top of things."

"I suspected as much." He rested chin on palms of his hands. "You are truly one of a kind, Camille. Intelligence that could rival a men, self-reliant, strong-willed and exploitive. Not to mention your careless charm."

She felt red ascending her face. "I'm just a boring, normal girl, nothing special, really!" She tried to protest, but he silenced her with a careless wave of his hand.

"While Scout may look as if he tried to court anything wearing a skirt, he does have an eye for female beauty. And you are one of his resurfacing targets. No, you are exceptional. Tell me, how such an exquisite woman can remain without a flock of admirers?"

She moved her finger across surface of a table. It was unexpectedly clean. "You already said it yourself. I am self-reliant and far too smart for my own good. Most of the men fear girls who are brighter than them."

"Fools. The partner, who can correct you in your ways and help amend when one errs, is invaluable."
She looked at him in a surprise. "I never took you for a humble type."

The corner of his lips twitched upwards. "For I am not and it may be my mistake. However, I'm afraid we must leave this establishment. Our waitress wants us clearly out."

Author' note:

Well, if that chapter wasn't cheesy.

Sorry for the wait, but I practically rewriten this chapter at least two times. And finals. I mean it's just begging of finals, so it may take me at least a month to upload anything, sorry folks.

It kind of angers me, that a story that is supposed to happen during one night consists of four chapters already and there's going to be at least three more. Poop.