1: The Enemy Walks In

Not wishing to break form, Abigail Griffin clutched the railing of the balcony which overlooked the river. She stared off into the distance. Her satin robe moved ever so slightly against her skin as a faint breeze swept past her, and she thanked Mother Nature for helping her cause. She could feel the other woman's eyes on her once again. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she suppressed a smirk. It wouldn't do to get caught looking cocky when she was well aware she was being watched from the balcony to her left.

The hotel was one of the better ones she'd had the pleasure of being put up in, and her mark was more pleasing to the eye than any had been in quite some time. The other woman sat at the white wrought iron table scanning an article on her tablet and feigning interest in a croissant on the plate beside her. She'd done so each morning for the best part of a week. Abigail had been observing the woman sixteen hours a day, leaving seven for sleep and one for play, and was enamoured by the young biomedical engineer.

How someone so utterly stunning could have created a powerful weapon of mass destruction was beyond her. She had to admit bioterrorism turned her on somewhat. She appreciated subtlety. Abby cursed herself for the fifth time that week. Feminism and all that.

She had been sure to be predictable, the sashay to the balcony only a minute or two either side of 6:30 am each day. The other woman would arrive at 6:35am without fail. Abby would not admit to Marcus that she was intrigued. He'd label it a distraction. He'd question her professional judgement just as he had with that other pretty young thing a year ago. Lexa. No last name. Tribal tattoos and legs for days. Not that she'd planned on having them wrapped around her. At least not that second time.

Abby felt a shiver rush down her spine at the memory and shook her head. The threads woven into that particular web pulled at her heart strings in the most terrible ways. She had to remain impassive. Marcus would be watching. Someone was always watching.

"There wasn't even a breeze this time."

In a split second, Abby's eyes located the camera in the cement pylon supporting the bridge which ran atop the river. She quirked the right side of her mouth in a smirk she knew would have Marcus slamming his hand against the desk and the others passing bills between them as they watched her on the monitors. She'd put a thousand on 'The Morning of Day Five' which would see ten coming her way as the wrought iron chair on the balcony to her left scraped against the ground.

Abby turned her head, feigning surprise at the sound of the other woman's voice, a hand placed to her chest as if to still her racing heart.

"I'm sorry? I didn't see you there. You gave me quite a shock." Abby sauntered over towards the other woman who was now standing with her body pressed against the railing which separated them. Her robe was also made of satin. The hotel bathrobes were not.

Removing her sunglasses, the other woman folded one of the arms in before placing the other down the gap where her robe came together. The act opened the material further, the glasses secured between the woman's breasts. Abby allowed a puff of air to escape her lips before she reached across and offered her hand to the other woman.

"Morgan O'Neil." Abby allowed the pad of her thumb to ghost across the other woman's knuckles as she shook her hand. It wasn't a chore to take her time raking her eyes from the spot those sunglasses rested to where her gaze met the other woman's as she spoke again.

"Raven Reyes. Lovely to meet you, Morgan. Sorry to startle you." Raven's hand fell away and she rested both against the railing, leaning forward just enough to draw Abby's attention to her cleavage once more.

"Not at all. That's what I get for day dreaming. You're an early riser like me, I see."

Raven cocked her head to the side, squinting as she considered Abby's words. "You've noticed me then?"

"I'm noticing you now." Abby adopted a low tone and allowed mischief to dance in her eyes. She'd practiced in the mirror, smirking without moving her mouth, a quirked eyebrow doing the majority of her bidding.

Raven Reyes sunk her teeth into her lower lip at Abby's words before releasing it in slow motion.

"So what brings you here, Morgan? Business, or pleasure?" Raven drew out her delivery of the two options, and Abby knew nothing could come of the fact that the latter was a given.

"Business, sadly. Medical conference. Don't get me wrong, I love my work, but a few days sightseeing and late nights with great company sound much more appealing."

"Medicine, huh? So you're a doctor?"

"I am." She nodded. It wasn't a lie. Abby had a PhD in Security Studies focusing on disruptive military technologies. "I'm a surgeon, actually." Where surgery was loosely defined as using various instruments to create incisions; an interrogation technique Abby had found very useful over the years. "The conference is on Minimally Invasive Laparoendoscopic Surgery." It was, but Abby wouldn't be in attendance. Anything minimally invasive also sounded counterproductive.

"Well, I'm suitably impressed. Perhaps you could tell me more about it over dinner tonight?" Raven asked the question with all the confidence of a woman who hadn't been turned down in her life, and it took all of Abby's self-control not to turn her head and locate the bridge camera again to shoot Marcus Kane a triumphant wink.

"That sounds wonderful, Raven. How is 7pm?"

"7pm sounds perfect." Raven held Abby's gaze for a moment before turning back to her table to retrieve her tablet and the plate which held the half eaten croissant. Before Raven could walk back inside, another breeze swept past and lifted her robe, revealing a red thong and Abby felt her mouth run dry. Unperturbed, Raven smirked and shot Abby a wink before walking back through the curtains to her room.

Abby locked herself in the bathroom and turned the shower mixer on full before accepting Jackson's call.

"I don't know why I'm surprised any more that your charms work equally on men or women. Kane upset one of the monitors when he thumped the desk after she spoke to you. He threw his headset when she asked you to dinner." The excitement in her colleague's voice caused Abby to grin, her cheeks aching from having suppressed her urge for so long.

"What can I say? I'm very good at what I do." She eyed herself in the mirror as steam begun to cloud on the surface.

"That you are, but you also need to focus. She's very beautiful and if you have to work your way into her panties to get what we need then nobody is going to deny you the opportunity, but you need to remember what we've come here for."

"As if I could forget. Is Kane still none the wiser?"

"He has every reason to believe we're on track to secure the serum and deliver it to Jaha. I've touched base with Lady-C. She has a team on standby for extraction as soon as the fake is in Jaha's possession." Abby could hear the excitement mounting in Jackson's voice.

Callie 'Lady-C' Cartwig was the Head of The Domain, a black ops division of the Bureau of Intelligence and Security (BIS). Cartwig was known for her unique skills of delegation and rarely got her hands dirty, but she had taken a personal interest in this operation, and Jackson had been in contact with her directly for the first time in his eight years with the BIS.

Both Abby and Jackson had very personal reasons for wanting front row seats to Thelonious Jaha's demise and, it seemed, perhaps Cartwig did too.

"Once we get visual confirmation we can create a replica and perform the switch. If it looks like the prototype, we're ahead of the game. Let's just hope Miss Reyes is compliant and you don't need to use any of those surgeon skills to coerce her."

"It won't come to that." Abby was surprised by the certainty in her own tone. Ending the call she removed her clothes and stepped into the shower.

If Raven stuck to the schedule Abby and Jackson had discovered, she was due to meet with her boss at 10am. Sinclair, no first name, had taken the young engineer under his wing when she graduated and had provided the financial backing for the majority of her projects. All the paper trails they found had led back to that surname, but they were unable to locate any pictures of him on any database.

This was the first of Raven's projects which had been deemed a threat to national security and could, in fact, have global implications. Thelonious Jaha was thrilled. While Abby could have no way of knowing what Raven Reyes' intentions had been when she developed the serum, she couldn't help but think they were less sinister than those of her boss. Jaha wanted the serum and the hard drive which contained all the accompanying research. He also wanted Raven Reyes dead.

Octavia Blake stretched her legs out in front of her and relaxed back against the cushions in the yacht once Raven sauntered inside. They were docked a few feet from the entrance of the hotel and through Raven's Comms, she'd been able to hear each word exchanged between her colleague and the evil MILF, Abigail Griffin. Octavia's boyfriend, Lincoln, viewed images from several strategically placed cameras on the tablet device on his lap. Still, Octavia preferred old school methods of surveillance, her binoculars on a strap around her neck.

Morgan O'Neill.

It was a convincing alias. Somehow each of the known aliases of the Griffin woman had some kind of basis in a medical field. Octavia didn't like to admit she was mildly fascinated by the operative and wanted to know more about her. Not in the way Raven did, of course. Octavia didn't swing that way.

MECHA's mission, the mission Raven, Lincoln, and Octavia were running point on, was to discover what Thelonious Jaha's intended to do with Raven's serum. They needed something concrete to put an end to his reign of domination once and for all. Short of that, they hoped to get close enough, through the evil MILF, to kill him. Neither Raven nor Lincoln would do that. That would be Octavia's job. Octavia smiled. She hadn't had to kill anyone for some time. She was quite looking forward to it.

With that thought, her phone buzzed in her hand.

"'Sup Lil' Bird? You did well with the MILF. Her alias checks out too. Marcus Kane and the rest of Jaha's Ark crew sure are thorough." Octavia toyed with the strap on her binoculars.

It had taken a significant amount of digging, superior work on the part of Raven and Monty, to discover the MILFs real name. What they hadn't been able to ascertain was any information on 'Abigail Griffin' before the creation of the Morgan O'Neill alias several years prior.

"Yeah, not surprised at all. She's fluffed her way into that conference for the past two days. I bet she knows the content inside out, too. Not that I need to quiz her on it. I just want to see if I can throw her off a bit." Octavia didn't have to see Raven to know she was smiling.

"Are you planning on sleeping with her?" Octavia was well aware Raven never passed up an opportunity like Abigail Griffin when one presented itself. She heard Raven scoff on the other end of the line.

"Well I'm not going to try and stop her. If I go radio silent about 10pm, you know why."

Octavia laughed. Monty wouldn't be happy if Raven switched off her Comms, but Octavia's unofficial role was to help Raven cover her tracks when she was taking part in her extra curriculas.

"Okay. Lincoln and I will keep an eye on her and let you know when she's escaped the conference and is back on your tail. You have your schedule. If we drop enough bread crumbs on enough trails, she won't know which one to follow. Monty is doing his best to get a location on this Kane dude she talks to, but so far the two locations Bellamy has checked out, haven't checked out."

"Their job is to fuck with us, O. They just don't know we're fucking with them, too. Maybe I should be behind the desk on this one. We should've put your brother on her."

"You know that would've have worked, Bird. They want you. That's the whole point. They want your serum, they want your notes, and they want your brain. Bellamy could have probably seduced the MILF, he would've given it a red hot go, but you're more than just a pretty face, nerd."

Raven scoffed again and Octavia fumbled for her binoculars when she saw the curtains across Abby's window open all the way up.

"Your lady friend is on her way out. Get a move on, Bird."

Octavia continued to watch the building as Abby took the very same path she had taken for two days. She hoped she was being watched. She knew Jaha's people would have cameras everywhere and between the rubber face mask, the blonde wig, and the blue contacts, all signs would point to the Griffin woman being watched by her very own daughter.

That had been Raven's idea. Raven was a genius.

Abby flashed her Morgan O'Neill ID and entered the conference. Bypassing the main function room, she began unbuttoning her black shirt and, with a quick glance around her, shrugged it from her shoulders and shoved it into the oversized bag over her shoulder. The short sleeved double breasted fitted chef jacket she wore underneath would get her into the kitchens and she tied her hair into a high ponytail as she strode towards the door. Once inside she grabbed a hair net and placed it on her head, tucking in wayward strands as she walked. She shared a smile with a few other members of the kitchen staff as she continued on her way, and after exiting from the far door she removed the jacket, and trousers, magic Mike style, revealing a white tank top and tight black leather pants.

The motorcycle which awaited her in the parking lot out the back had a top box which housed her jacket, gloves and helmet and was the perfect size for her Mary Poppins bag of outfits for all occasions. Switching the items over, Abby put on the jacket, gloves and helmet and checked Raven's schedule once again on her phone.

Ten minutes had seen her transition from Surgeon Attending a Conference, to Chef, to Biker Bitch. She was three minutes faster than yesterday.

Abby rode cautiously through the streets. She would tell anyone who listened that the speed limit was a maximum, not a challenge. What she wouldn't admit was there were old ladies on mopeds moving faster. Abby would have liked to have ducked and weaved through traffic but she was no good to anyone if she was dead. Least of all Clarke.

When Thelonious had discovered Abby's daughter was having a relationship with the daughter of his greatest rival, he put a gun in Abby's mouth and whispered menacingly in her ear to convince Clarke to end it. His breath was stale. The smell of cigarettes and arrogance had her nodding in agreement. She just wanted to get him away from her. The gun was hers. She knew it wasn't loaded.

In the short term, things ended abruptly. Abby didn't know the great Gustus had a daughter, nor did she expect said daughter to be in Clarke's bed when she paid the requested visit to plead with Clarke to end the relationship. The mane of chestnut hair spread across Clarke's pillow gave nothing away at first. Abby regretted having let herself in when her knock on the sliding door of the loft garnered no response. Abby didn't recognize the woman's face when she turned her head toward the sound of Abby's shriek at the sight of Clarke on top of the woman. It wasn't until Clarke shifted and the woman rolled to face away from Abby that the pattern of lines and circles inked into the skin of the woman's spine sent her heart to her throat.

"Lexa." Abby gasped.

Lexa. No last name. Tribal tattoos. Legs for days.

Lexa's glare at the sound of her name sent a chill down Abby's spine.

"Clarke. Who is this woman?" Lexa's tongue clicked around the syllables of Clarke's name which echoed like a punch-line drum beat in the back of her throat.

Clarke reached for the tank top which was hanging from the headboard and dragged it over her head before shimmying into her underwear beneath the covers. Resentment hit Abby in waves as Clarke padded toward her.

"Key." Clarke held out her hand for the offending item which had interrupted their tryst, and turned on her heel walking to the center of the room to fix herself a drink.

"Lexa, this is my mother, Abigail. This is the first and last time you'll have to see her." Back to both of them, Clarke poured unequal portions of vodka and soda, stirring the drink with her finger before bringing the concoction to her lips. Lexa's eyes flashed with something akin to shame, her cheeks reddening before she turned her head and reached for the pile of clothes by the bed.

This sure as hell wasn't the first time they had met, but Abby was more than happy for it to be the last. They could never speak of their encounters. Clarke could never know Abby had ridden those fingers before she had. It wasn't a competition, and it was well beyond the birds and the bees. There were things a daughter should never ever know about her mother.

"So you're Gustus' daughter?" Lexa gave Abby a single nod as she sauntered over to join Clarke at the makeshift bar. "What does your father think of this little…arrangement?" Abby gestured vaguely in the space between them.

Grabbing the glass from Clarke's hand Lexa downed the rest of the contents before looking back at Abby. "Clarke is not a problem for my father. You are, as it turns out, but he's perfectly fine about this little… arrangement." Lexa scrunched up her nose as she mimicked Abby's movements and Clarke, drunk on either the vodka or her pure disdain for Abby, threw her head back and laughed at her lover before capturing her lips in a lewd kiss Abby wished she didn't have to witness.

"Well Thelonious isn't quite as understanding. Do I need to tell you what the barrel of my USP Compact tastes like? He sent me here to tell you to end it."

"I got out of the ARC a year ago, Mom. You can tell Jaha to go fuck himself. I don't owe him shit."

Clarke's words played on Abby's mind as she continued to ride towards the café where Raven was scheduled to be meeting Sinclair. Nobody ever really left The ARC.

The Association for Retrieval and Consolidation (ARC) had recruited Abby's husband, Jake, straight out of college. While Jake Griffin believed he had been employed by a branch of the Bureau of Intelligence and Security, Cartwig's predecessor, and Abby's boss, made contact with the young engineer and informed him that the ARC were in fact part of a world-wide crime collective who were working against the US Government. From this point on, Jake worked as a double-agent assisting the BIS to bring down the ARC and its international counterparts, one operation at a time.

Abby didn't discover her husband had been leading a double life until weeks after Jake died at the hands of Thelonious Jaha who had believed Jake was conspiring with a vigilante group known only as MECHA. Within 48 hours of her husband's death, Abby became aware that Jaha had recruited Clarke to fill her father's shoes and, requesting to use the alias of Morgan O'Neill, Abby appealed to Jaha for an opportunity to avenge the death he claimed had been perpetrated by covert BIS operatives. It was Callie Cartwig herself who revealed the extent of Jake's involvement with the ARC to the mother-daughter pair. Within weeks, the two were forced to balance their grief with intensive training regimes as they sought to infiltrate Jaha's association.

What Jake's death didn't take from them, the job did. Clarke resented every aspect of the unknown, every hidden detail she discovered about either of her parents and, with Jake gone, Abby shouldered the burden their secrets created. She would have done anything to prevent Clarke from ever having been involved with the ARC. If she played her cards right this time, they'd both be free of it for good.

The ARC team hadn't been able to pin down a visual on the man known as Sinclair. Neither had Jackson. When he had appealed to Cartwig herself, Jackson's request for assistance was met with vague excuses and misinformation. It didn't add up.

Abby watched as Raven entered the cafe. At first it seemed as though it were a solo venture, tablet out, two coffees consumed before a piece of pie was delivered to the table. Many other patrons entered and exited the cafe during this time. Each photograph Abby took was sent directly to Jackson who ran them through a database looking for any connections which would help them establish a link to the vague trail on Sinclair. Abby was agitated that it appeared to be a loose end and was about to phone Jackson to say so when Raven stood to embrace a broad shouldered man of about 6 feet tall with dark skin and a shaved head. This was the third gentleman Raven had met with in as many days. The first had been a scrawny chap with gaunt features and dark, unruly hair who wore aviator goggles on his head who Raven met at a park. The following day Raven had lunched with another young man who appeared as though he'd stepped out of an early 90s sitcom, his floppy brown hair and dopey poster boy looks not at all convincing them that he could be the man who had apparently been Reyes' mentor for many years.

The third guy did not appear to be nearly old enough either, and Abby was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps 'Sinclair' was instead the name of a project, or the prototype Reyes had been carrying around for weeks. Maybe the serum was called 'Sinclair' and was advanced enough to provide financial backing for its own creation. Abby had had too many late nights.

She observed the pair for half an hour, ignoring the pangs of hunger which reminded her she'd not eaten breakfast. When another woman joined the pair, the meeting looking more like a casual catch up among friends than a business transaction, Abby decided her time might be better spent in Raven's hotel room while the woman was out.

It took Jackson less than five minutes to arrive, his bike the very same make and model as Abby's idling behind her.

"Contact me the minute they leave, and keep in touch while you're following them. I can't risk being caught in her room, or on this bike at the hotel, understand?"

Of course Jackson understood. He, too, was a double agent coordinating conflicting operations with the very same mark. He wasn't about to jeopardize either one.

Octavia had left her Clarke face a block away from the hotel, and she ran her fingers through her dark locks while she could. She and Lincoln were staying on the floor below Raven and the Griffin woman, and she tried to view the lunch date as pleasure rather than business. All work and no play made Lincoln a dull boy. She also found surveillance exhausting. When she was in the field, Octavia preferred to be tracking people rather than creating a maze of false trails for them to follow. She liked getting her hands dirty.

Knowing their meeting wouldn't be worth the time it took Abigail Griffin to follow them, she wasn't at all surprised when one of Kane's men replaced Abigail at her post opposite the café.

Octavia enjoyed calling the shots and suggested to Lincoln and Raven that they give the evil MILF a fighting chance with at ten minute head start back to the hotel. There would be nothing to see when she reached the room, items of mild importance stored in the false panel below the bed, one of the many adaptations the trio had made.

What threw Octavia was the call Abigail Griffin received from the man on the motorcycle as they left the café. Despite the elaborate bugging system installed in Abigail Griffin's hotel room, and the clone of woman's phone in Octavia's pocket, she could hear nothing but white noise when she listened in on the conversation.

The trio returned to the hotel separately, Octavia stopping off to retrieve her Clarke face from the air vent of a laundromat a block away before making an appearance. Noting that a small portion of Clarke's left ear had begun to melt away, Octavia decided she was going to need a more suitable hiding place.

Abby dressed for dinner, dissatisfied that her day had not seen her any closer to discovering Raven Reyes' secrets. Or Cartwig's. While their paths had crossed a handful of times before Jake's death, the woman's promotion to Head of The Domain had seen her disappear completely until now.

Abby changed her earrings three times as she mumbled to herself the many questions she would have liked to fire at Cartwig. Lady fucking C, that was for sure. What the hell was the woman playing at? Abby and Jackson had her full support and personal input on a mission she would normally only interact with via a rubber stamp, and yet Abby was sure the woman had answers to some key questions which would help wrap it up even faster.

A lesser person may have thrown their hands in the air and surrendered to the stress and bother of the tasks at hand, but Abby didn't have that luxury. Jaha had Abby's daughter. Raven had something Jaha wanted. If she could pull off this job and get Clarke out of the country before Jaha and Kane realized they'd been double crossed, the two Griffin woman would both finally be free of him.

Raven was seated at a table by the window, a clear view of the whole restaurant as she sat with her chair back against the wall. The smirk on her face as Abigail Griffin approached the table was something she couldn't suppress. Their day was done. She was going to work out how to have some fun with their evening.

"Morgan." Raven stood to greet the woman, a polite kiss to the cheek before pulling out a chair and gesturing for her to take a seat. Raven was sure Abigail's smile, and the glint in her eye, were genuine too.

"Raven." Abigail's grin widened and Raven couldn't help but acknowledge the feeling of hearing her name fall from the lips of the beautiful woman. "How was your day?"

"It was great, actually." This wasn't a lie. Trailing Abigail around, or keeping up to speed with her various movements from the feed which linked directly to her tablet, was not a chore. "I met with my boss, managed to get my work done early, and then enjoyed a lunch with friends." Raven watched for any tell that Abigail was surprised by her bold admission. There was none.

"How lovely. What do you do for work, Raven, if you don't mind my asking?" Abigail sipped her wine and Raven reminded herself not to drink too much. Those lips were mesmerizing.

"I'm a mechanic, actually. This is what I like to call a working vacation. I get large portions of the days to myself as long as I check in with the boss and do a little here and there." This wasn't a lie, either. Raven had been enjoying herself for much of the week. She, Monty and Jasper had spent the week prior setting up the tech and anything which required construction. Octavia and Lincoln had helped her with modifications to the rooms. This week had been about information. "How was your conference?"

Raven had to admit she was impressed by the woman's commitment to the façade. From the building across the street she had observed Abigail arrive back at the conference center on her motorcycle and change not once but twice before emerging from the front of the building. The chef's jacket Raven saw before Abby had even re-entered the building was nowhere in sight when she appeared wearing the very same black shirt she had left the hotel wearing first thing in the morning.

"Draining, if I'm honest. Any one of us who is worth our salt has done our fair share of research into minimally invasive procedures. It's as essential to our daily work as a grease and oil change is to yours, I imagine." Raven had heard about the extent of the procedures Abigail Griffin had performed in her many lines of work. There was nothing minimal about how invasive they were. The thought sent a chill down her spine. Perhaps being alone with the woman was not an intelligent move.

Abby couldn't say for sure that she was unaffected by the alcohol by the time she and Raven made their way upstairs, but the sight of a woman who looked a lot like her daughter was very sobering. With Raven's hand in hers, dragging her towards her room, Abby had seen blonde hair and blue eyes reflected in the mirror near the stairwell. Gasping, she turned first to Raven and then back towards the reflection, but when she looked again the woman was nowhere to be seen.

The look of horror on Raven's face shocked her just as much. Abby didn't know if it was in reaction to her own response, but Abby was certain the mysterious engineer appeared as though she'd seen a ghost. Abby rolled her eyes. She was certain, in some alternative universe that she and Clarke had probably slept with several of each other's lovers. They had moved in the same circles, after all. They were similar in almost every way, and had proven to have similar tastes in both men and women. Abby preferred her lovers younger, Clarke preferred hers older. Things became a little messy when they met in the crosshairs.

Abby didn't protest when the door that opened was Raven's, and the young engineer pulled her inside. She needed a distraction.

Octavia had agreed to be discreet if Raven returned to her room with Abigail, and Raven trusted her enough that she didn't think twice before switching off her Comms, switching off the light, and pulling the woman down onto her bed.

Raven didn't know if it was the wine, or the way the woman curled her fingers inside her which made her forget herself, but as she felt herself coming undone for the third time, she stuttered on God and Lord Jesus Christ and bypassed Morgan completely.

"Fuck, Abigail."

The name fell from her lips as she felt the woman's slick heat against her thigh, but the fingers inside her stilled completely and Raven looked down to see the woman pale as she had done when a masked Octavia had passed them in the hallway only an hour before.

On every level, Raven Reyes had just fucked up.