The best way to celebrate retrieving something of national importance to your country and thereby saving it from a possible attack, was in my opinion to kick back in one of Washington's best jazz clubs, getting bewitched by the live music and sipping those good ol' cocktails.

So I was a sucker for the flapper time, could you blame me?

Sipping my dry martini with two olives, I had my legs crossed and my eyes on the stage as the band played and a beautiful African-American woman blessed the club with her deep voice. I was completely enthralled. Watching the pianist glide his fingers across the tangents, hearing the sax's smooth alto sound... it had me drunk.

There really was no better way to celebrate a job well done. It also gave me the rare chance to give my dresses a night out. The one I was wearing tonight was a feisty little red thing with a daring cleavage and a bare back. But hey, a girl had to have her fun, didn't she? The attention it brought me was enough to bring a little smile to my face as I turned to my martini and sipped it. At least four men had given me glances as I entered. Hungry glances.

But then again, they didn't know I was carrying a loaded gun holstered in a strap around my thigh. If they did, they probably wouldn't be looking at me for that much longer.

But I didn't mind. I wasn't here to score. I never was. This was just one of the few places I truly could relax and feel comfortable, just listening to the soothing music. You could say it was my place of zen.

"Enjoying yourself, mia cara?"

I just had to bloody jinx it, didn't it?

All the blood in my body froze up solid when a hand came around me from behind me and wrapped around my waist, the same time a set of lips got pressed to my ear; one warm exhale. One deep inhale.

"You look ravishing, Agent Wilkins. I can only imagine where you're keeping your gun."

Gritting my teeth, I remained calm.

He was here. No panic. We were in a public space with too many civilians. If anything went down in here, the casualties would be too great for my conscience. Obviously he was here just for me, so if he did decide to start something, maybe I could coerce him into taking it outside in the alley.

"Agent Santino," I said, circling around in my chair until we were face to face. Well, face to neck, really. "Came to listen to some smooth jazz and perhaps get a drink?"

"I was more hoping to get a dance. May I?"

"I really hope you're not planning on acting out a Mr and Mrs Smith scene here."

He smiled sexily, showing off those pearly whites, then looked down. He held out his hand towards me. "Last I checked, we weren't married."

Pursing my lips, I looked at his hand for a moment before I took it with a straight face. I figured if he was going to act civil, I might as well play along. I was curious to see what his game was. He was looking absolutely mouthwatering in the black n' white vintage suit he wore, like he came right from filming a James Bond movie. The thing was, he was acting strangely calm for someone whom was left in a rather compromising position the last we saw each other. Not to mention I stole that USB back. He had to be furious inside.

But his dazzling smile revealed nothing as we walked out to the dance floor and took our position. Spaghetti could dance, go figure. What Italian didn't know how to slow-waltz? He held me firmly against his chest with one hand on my back, the other softly cupping mine. He was a tower, so I had to opt for just pressing my hand against his chest. It also allowed me to see if he carried a weapon there. He was clean.

"So..." I begun, after a few seconds of silent dancing. "I take it you're here to either kidnap me again or try and extort me for information to find out where we're keeping the USB."

"You insult me," He chuckled, regarding me with his eyes. "You think that's the only reason I'd go near you?"

"You're a conman."

"I'm also a man, and you're a beautiful woman."

"So was the woman sitting next to me at the bar."

"But she wasn't you."

I gave a light chuckle. He was so smooth. "Aren't you getting tired of getting rejected yet? How many more times do I have to tell you, you're never going to get into my panties."

"Well that's only because you've been wearing thongs," He smirked, leaning down to my ear so his lips brushed my skin. "Are you wearing one now?"

I felt his hand drift down to my lower back, then looped over my rear, squeezing it. I instantly grabbed his arm and jerked it up, back to my back. "Watch the hand, Spaghetti. Don't want to lose it."

"No, that would be a shame. Then I wouldn't be able to finger that sweet little spot between your—"

"When will you give up?" I interrupted, cocking my head up to glare at him. Though truth be told, my panties were damp. "I'm not afraid of shooting you down again. Interpret that however you want."

A silent chuckle vibrated from his chest, just as we danced by the band, our slow tempo matching their rhythm. Vince leaned down again and softly pressed his cheek to my hair. "See, that's just the thing, bella mia. Aside from when you actually shot me, you haven't shot me down yet. Not once. You've spoken things that backs up your words, but whenever I kissed you, you never rejected me. Not once, mia cara."

Arrogant asshat, I thought with a menacing glare when he drew back with a little smirk, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to my temple. I fought to find a rebuttal, but whatever I said would be a bitter lie. He might have forced the kisses a few times (okay all the times, thank you very much), but I had never not loved it. He knew that, and as did I. Sadly.

Cursing silently in my head, I tightened my grip on his hand when he chuckled a little again from my lack of a comeback. Bastard. How I wanted to rip him to pieces.

"Have you cracked through the USB yet?" He then said, changing the subject, though still keeping his nonchalant façade that he paired with his ever charming smile. Oh, he was good, in a Neal Caffrey sort-of-way, but I wasn't buying it.

"Well, you didn't save money on the security installments, I'll credit you that," I decided to humor him. "But we have our best guy on the job. Any minute, in fact, he could be calling with the news that he cracked it. That's why I'm here; Enjoying a drink before I head back to the office. Now that's leaves the question you've yet to answer; Why are you here?"

"I already told you; I came for you."

"If that really is the honest answer, which I highly doubt it is, you've come in vain. I'll tell you one last time; We are never going to happen."

"Are you sure?" He said, cocking a slow brow. For once he didn't smirk, but the eyes said it all. "So if I kissed you right now, you would object?"

I pursed my lips. "Not that you've ever cared about that, have you? You just do as you please, whether or not you're allowed."

"What can I say? I'm a man who knows what he wants."

"And what you want is me?"

"Repeatedly."

Okay, sure. Then drop to the floor and lose the shirt and the pants. We'll take turns to be on top.

"This has gone on for long enough," I said, meeting his eyes squarely. "You wanna talk, let's go talk somewhere private where we won't harm any civilians. I'm tired of your BS."

He raised a brow, but then gave a firm nod, stopping our slow waltz. "Perhaps that would be better. Ladies first."

He gestured to the alley exit, and we both casually slipped out, me with my hand near my gun, just in case he had an ambush waiting. You never knew with him.

But as we stepped out into the dark alley, it was completely deserted if you didn't count the stray cat that ran off as soon as the door slammed behind us. The air was chilly, but not cold, and the sky was slightly clouded. You could just spot a few stars.

"Bella notte," Vince noted, obviously glancing up at the sky as well.

I turned to face him. "Alright, we can cut the crap now. Tell me why you're really here."

His eyes lowered to me and then a sinister smirk slipped onto his lips. "I'm here to settle a score."

"Wha—"

He was on me the next moment, lips pressed to mine, hands grabbing my wrists. Even before I had the chance to register that this was happening again, he had me pinned up against the alley wall. I gasped for my breath as he ruthlessly and indeed ambushed me, prying my lips open to plunder mouth. I obliged, helplessly.

I was crazy, but I didn't want to stop this from happening. Ever since I left him in that motel room, I'd been walking around with something similar to an itch between my legs. No matter how much I tried to ignore it or scratch it (yes, we were talking masturbation), it wouldn't go away. I had been aching to feel him, dreaming about what would've happened if I hadn't stopped it.

Now it appeared my dream was coming true.

Vince pressed a knee between my legs, allowing me to rub my smoldering heat against his thigh as I writhed in his hold, trying to free my hands. It was to no avail. There was no way he was giving me the control this time. He moved down from my lips, down my throat, and I whimpered. Each swipe from his tongue and each gentle suckle and bite was like getting tasered; electrifying and made me shiver and shake.

"Ahh," I hissed when frustration began to build. As if sensing my impatience, he finally released my hands, only to grasp my hips, yanking at my loose dress. He pushed it up and then crouched down in front of me, making me grip on to his shoulders for support when I realized he was the only thing keeping me from collapsing. I was that sexually charged. I felt the brush of his knuckles against my hot flesh and involuntarily arched my back, strangling a moan.

"So wet," He huskily murmured, his warm breath fanning my thigh.

"Vince..." My tone of voice enough to tell him what I needed. I couldn't even think straight anymore, my ōrgasm was so close, I could practically taste it on my tongue.

"Mmm..." He hummed as his fingers hooked around the elastic band of my thong. "I knew you wanted this as much as me."

I was about to throw a curse at him and ban him all the way to hell for pointing out such a pride-shattering fact right now, but the next moment he yanked my panties down. I felt his breath on my now exposed pussy, and that was it; I didn't care what he said now. I just wanted to shove my cunt into his face and watch him eat it until I shattered apart.

Repeatedly.

He had to be a mindreader, because the next second I felt his lips against my wet folds. I let out an embarrassing sound, one I didn't even know I could make, but Vince did that to me. He did so many things that made me do and want things I shouldn't.

His lips now gently kissed my swollen flesh, before I felt the tip of his tongue nudge me. That tiny act was enough to make me push my hips off the wall and into his face; He pushed me back with a simple, yet confining act. Not a moment later, though, he grasped my thigh and made me lift it over his shoulder so he had better access. It messed with my already shitty balance, but Vince kept me steady. Hand running up my thigh, I shivered and then gripped on to his shoulder even tighter.

"Così carina," He whispered against my heat and then he dipped at last. He latched on to me like a leech and sucked me into his mouth, flicking and teasing my throbbing clīt with his tongue. I cried out and grasped his hair, dug my fingers through the soft, ebony locks and tugged at them less than gently. His teeth scraped me, bit me so very softly, and drew another loud cry from me. Thank goodness this alley was as deserted as alleys came.

The part of me that felt guilty (if there even existed such a part anymore) about being here in this position with a foreign, wanted agent whom had stolen from us, was well tugged away under a layer of long-starved need for this sort of pleasure. The one that came from passion and danger and had a side-dish that they called ecstasy. I couldn't find anything wrong with getting my twat eaten by an enemy of our country, except everything. But like I said, the guilty-part of me was buried deep down, somewhat six feet under.

"Oh, God," I cried, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his tongue push into my core, lapping up my juices. "Vince!"

He hummed against me, causing me to shake from that sensation. God, that felt like a vibrator. "So hot and wet..."

I moaned and bit my lip. My ōrgasm was inches away, all I needed was that lash push, that last... "Vince..."

A giant explosion sounded from the road and snapped me out of my daze with a jolt. I whipped my head to see the sight of a car exploding into bits and pieces, fire blazing and civilians screaming, running away in fear.

– Not exactly the kind of explosion I had in mind would happen here tonight.

"What the hell!" I had barely spoken the words before I realized Vince had gotten up, a calm smirk on his lips. "You – you did this!"

"Like I said, I was here to settle a score, and now I have," He said, licking his lips from my juices. His throat bobbed and he smiled satisfied. "Thank you, dolcezza."

"You goddamn bas—" I was going to pounce him, but then found that I couldn't. I looked down at my hand and realized it was cuffed to a heavy metal dumpster. My gun was gone, too. When the hell had he done that? "What the shit?!"

Vince took a step back when I tried to launch for him anyway, and instead straightened his suit with a relaxed demeanor. "Have a pleasant evening, mia cara."

"Fuck you! Get back here, you cowardice prick!" I screamed as he calmly walked away, hands shoved into his pockets. He even started whistling a tune, a tune which I now heard was Bella Notte. "FUCK YOU, VINCE! This isn't over!"

I was ready to blow up like the car down the street when my phone chose that moment to go off inside my hidden pocket. Nearly too angry to reply, I still decided to take it. It was Zac calling. "What?!"

"Whoa, what did I do?!"

"Nothing!" I growled, glancing after where Vince had disappeared. "Did you decrypt the USB yet?"

"Uh, yeah I did... you're not going to like this."

"What is it, Zac?"

"Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this right now, you sound pis—"

"JUST TELL ME!"

"Alright, alright, geez, don't deafen the messenger!" Zac yelped. "The USB is empty, Ry. Well, all except for one small message. It doesn't make any sense, though."

I closed my eyes, feeling the fury settling in. Empty. He had played me... again. "What did the note say?"

Zac gulped silently. "It said; 'Now we are even.'"

• • •

Don't know why, but I'm thinking Tom and Jerry. Or maybe the Roadrunner and Coyote.