Saira Switzjefferson:

Location: Western Europe.

Hotel: Mandarin Oriental, Paris.

After finally landing safely on Paris at precisely half past noon and sleeping in all day at the hotel, one might have thought to stretch their sleep- induced limbs, shake that drowsiness and jet lag off, take that cup of coffee or a healthier option (tea, if possible) and venture out to see the soft glory and timeless beauty that the streets of Paris has to offer.

But.... not when your best friend loves sleeping more than any other activity that requires getting up from the "deliciously inviting and oh so tempting bed."

And those are not my words.

Now, you must be wondering why I couldn't just leave her lazy, slumbering ass here and venture out on my own?

Well, Zoe and I have this unspoken pact that clearly states that if we were to visit any country together, then the first day we step out of the hotel to sightsee or travel will always be with one another.
It's just an invisible rule and we have always followed it, simply because it seemed so much more fulfilling and just...natural.
And it's so much fun roaming foreign lands with your best friend, trying out different food and checking out all the hot guys, not to mention, shopping turns into a whole another level of fun and the camaraderie just...pops off.

Of course, it is not so much fun if that said best friend is snoring like a pig as she dreams about some tall, dark and handsome man whisking her away to a faraway place where her worries and responsibilities won't possibly be able to chase her in full speed.

Now, you might be wondering how the hell do I know what she is dreaming out?

Because she had previously told me about wanting something like this, while sighing dreamily and quite literally making heart eyes.
And knowing Zoe, with that willpower of a bull, she even steers her dreams into what she wants to dream about.

It sounds slightly, just slightly, insane to people who don't know her.

But now, looking out the window to see the clear blue sky with flocks of birds flying high up in the air, and the Eiffel Tower standing, firm and tall, far over there, I realize my patience really is wearing thin.
And her loud snores are in no way calming me down.
So, I take the decision to finally wake her highness up.

Marching through the adjoined living room, that connects her room and mine and noticing the door's ajar, I tiptoe into her room, as stealthy as a cat and try to take in my surroundings only to see it's pitch black except for the light coming off from the living room.

Miss Maleficent has all the curtains' drawn in and only the light from the living room shows a messy king-sized bed, with blankets pulled over someone tightly.
No visible sign of a human.

Stifling a sigh, I go to the other side of her bed, where she is sleeping (I took an educated guess) and state quite calmly, 'Honestly, can you stop sleeping like the dead? It's nine in the morning, we have to go, you idiot.'

When I don't get any response, I grab the edge of the lush blanket and tug it off of her.
As you can tell, I really am losing my patience, bit by bit.
Not to mention, we have to attend a meeting where we will discuss and fix some important deals about our mission.

A sleeping Zoe does greet my formidable eyesight, with her hair looking like a crow's nest, only bundles up and mumbles something indistinctive as she rolls over to the other side of the bed.

Rolling my eyes at this childish sight, I turn away to pull the curtains far from each other and see the golden light streaming in almost instantly, lighting up the room.

It almost quenches the desire to throttle Zoe for still sleeping like a zombie.

Almost...but not quite.

Then a chaotic image conjures up on my mind and I can already see the aftermath will include shrilly high pitched screaming and foul-mouthed cursing but I still grin wickedly to myself.
Clearing my throat, I declare sweetly, 'Fine then, if my best friend wants to spend another day sleeping, I certainly won't deprive her of it.'

In answer, Zoe slumps her face on the pillow, trying quite hard not to let the sunlight touch her or come anywhere near her.

A for the tremendous effort.

Well, let's see if we can actually stir Sleeping Beauty up.

Oh, simply wait and watch, darling.

Taking the glass from the bedside table as quietly as I can muster, I cautiously pour water into it from the jug next to it, gritting my teeth with the hope that not a single sound is made, lest Zoe catches up to what is happening and I peer over at her back, her face is still slumped over that dire pillow.
And ever so silently, I silently cheer on my hand to carefully, carefully take that glass of water near this sleeping zombie, position it right over the back of her head and splash!
Water spills all over her, running down her back and I wait patiently for the burst of reaction.

And as always, Zoe McDazzle never disappoints.

She jumps up like lightning struck her and starts screaming without further ado, along with fanning her shirt, trying to get the water droplets out, well, it's already wet so...doing that is of no use.
I do not say that to her because thankfully, she's wildly disoriented in this state, so it will take her a hot minute to add two and two together and then... she might actually kill me.

I must say, she really does look insane, with that messy jungle of a hair and cursing like a mad sailor and ...oh dear.

Her eyes lock at mine and they seem to have lost that half-dazed, still sleepy look and has taken in that fierce glint, as if she's ready to lunge and feast on the corpse of her prey.

Me.

She glares at me with severe force, slaps the wet hair out of her face too violently and points an abysmal finger at me, shaking and seething,

'YOU.'

But I don't recoil,(which is the wise thing to do, of course), rather I enlighten her with a grin, mischief dancing in my eyes, 'Darling, I am a nightmare dressed like a daydream.'

Before she tries to do something which will make me regret waking her up in the first place, I bolt out of the room in a flash, jump across the living room like Hercules and finally sprint to my room with a loud skid, locking it shut with a triumphant smile.

'SAIRA SWITZJEFFERSON! I WILL GET BACK AT YOU, YOU WITCH! '

Her mighty curses still reach my ears and the situation seems so hysterically childish, that my whole body shakes with laughter and I have to clutch my stomach to keep from laughing too much.
Two of the most deadly underground criminals and spies acting like two kids left alone by their mom, unsupervised.

Well, I guess, feeling like a child at times, laughing freely without any worries, it does wonders to one's heart.

What a truly refreshing way to start the day.

_____________________________________

'So are these your specified needs?' demands snooty Donny Elle in an authoritative tone.

I say snooty because this short, lumpy man who has a permanent sneer on his face might be older than me but that doesn't mean he deserves my respect.

Not at all.

I don't trust this man.
Or his hawaii- coloured shirts.

Nothing against that particular type of shirts, he just looks extremely suspicious in it.
Actually, scratch that.

He would look suspicious in everything.

I smirk, putting my legs up on the table, not giving a damn about the council members sitting around this table, and open my mouth to give a pretentious yawn.

'Why, do you want to add some more? ', I retort unabashedly.

I ignore Zoe's look of warning and stare coolly at the snooty man.

Traitors just get on my nerves, man.

He raises his thin eyebrows and I can already sense the change in this room as every member of the Parisian Council of Thieves and Spies sits up straight, their eyes darting between their chief-in- commander, Donny Elle and me.
Even the atmosphere becomes tense as they wait for a packed outburst.

Only Zoe sits there, with her chin propped up in her fist, with a resigned expression on her face that can only be stated as, "Ah, here we go again."

Oh, you should have seen the way she grumbled about everything while coming to the meeting because I splashed her awake in the morning.

Zoe has already advised me to write down my will, because she will supposedly "commit a murder that she is confident she will get away with."

Enough about our regular mishaps, let's focus on the kettle that's boiling hot.

Judging from the members' nervous posture, (I could have sworn I saw one of them anxiously gulp down water) I am assuming no one has really taken that indifferent tone while talking with Snooty Donny Elle.

But then again, I am not no one.

He twirls his moustache with a finger and says slowly, drawling out all the words as if speaking to an adamant child who hasn't seemed to understand that her bed time is over,
'Miss, there is a planned budget for the applied needs and according to my logistics expert, this has already exceeded the limit enormously. This will never be agreed upon. At all.'

What a lying, thieving rotten....
The Parisian coffers run deep, the filthy jerk just doesn't want to hand it to us that easily.

'Well then, are you implying that you and your council aren't able enough to provide these applied needs when it's obligatory to hand out loans and funds to any criminals of age? '

It is true, by the way.

I am not bluffing.

His nasty sneer turns into an even nastier smirk, 'You are being too critical. What the boss says only matters and the boss will never allow this. Never.'

Even his voice sounds slimy and slick...I am sick of it already.

Taking my legs off the table with a thud, I sigh dramatically, even my face takes in that so-upset-I-might-cry look and I see Zoe already trying to stifle down a laugh behind her hand.

'I am sorry that my brutal honesty hurt your ego which is the size of a small island, that probably has more liquidity flow than your company does. Also, I must admit, I am quite impressed that you caught on so fast.'

'Aye, aye, captain.' snorts Zoe, now grinning fully as she takes a sip from her bottle of vodka.

My smirk grows bigger, of course she knows what's coming.

His look of clear disdain changes into shallow surprise but he skilfully hides that, 'It would be better if we did not talk in obnoxious riddles and unnecessary chatter. But, by all means, do elaborate.'

'Well,' I purr out, peering innocently at Snooty Elle, 'didn't you just arrogantly declare that "What the boss says only matters" ?,'

Donny Elle looks murderous right now.
And those poor veins seem right about to burst any moment.
Oh, he's mad mad now.

Stretching my arms now, I get up thinking it would have been better to skip the whole meeting since Donny Elle sure as hell won't budge, even an inch.
Maybe if I dangle half a million dollars on his face, he would probably be swayed.

By an inch.

Throwing an arrogant smirk his way, I nod at Zoe.
Time to go.

'Lucky for you, I happen to be the boss.'

Not wanting to waste anymore time on Snooty Donny Elle, I look at the other silent members who are letting themselves be walked all over by this man with the most ridiculous shirts and nod with a hint of respect.

'It was a real pleasure to meet all of you. But, I do hope we get to communicate more in the next meeting and not let others dictate our words or action. The meeting is concluded.'

Taking one indifferent glance at Donny Elle and his clenched fists, I give a silent pat in the back to myself for being able to rile him up this easily.

And just to add a bit more spice, I drawl out,
'Call me when you are ready to move that bruised ego out of the way and then provide me fully with the materials and the enormous funds I need. Until then, Ciao Adios.'

'You will regret this.' seethes Snooty Donny Elle.

'I will add that on my list of things that are of no importance.'

Turning my back on this angry double-crosser and this group full of hopeless puppets, I walk out of the room, with Zoe in tow, the sound of her heels filling up the silence in the room, our dignity still very much intact.

And, the child in me still pictures us wearing this beautiful cape and superhero costumes as we make our substantial exit, along with some very much needed background music.

What a heroic departure.

___________________________________

We get into our car, the Mercedes-Benz, and Zoe takes no time to close the door, twist her body towards me and crosses her arms.

I decide it's best to stay silent and cross my arms, quite threateningly and wait for her to say something.

Sadly, she doesn't seem to be in the mood to oblige.

Zoe only stares at me blankly, with no visible sign of anger or frustration.

It is getting a bit eerie.

Imagine if someone only keeps staring at you without uttering a single word.

Now imagine if that someone is your best friend.
You would just slap their cheeks into reality, right?
But, knowing I have already annoyed her plenty in the morning...yes, the muscle movement required for a vigorous slap can wait.

Wow, we really are just sitting here staring at each, waiting for the other to break, in a...wait a minute.

The car isn't moving.
Which means...the bodyguards in the car behind us.. they are not moving either.
Oh shoot, this must be awkward for the chauffeur.
And for the car behind us, they must be wondering what's going on.

Clearing my throat, I stick my tongue out at Zoe and get a smug "I win!" look in return.

'Monsieur Razi, do start the car. Let's stick to the main road for now, if we need to halt the car, we will tell you.'

'Oui, mademoiselle.'

The car revs up, the engine starts to roar and...we are off.

So is the car behind us with our security.

'Well, at least I will tell you, since one of us here fancies herself a figurine of some sorts, she can't really bring herself to speak with us peasants.' I add with a mischievous smirk.

Monsieur Razi wisely chooses to not speak.

And Zoe, the brave figurine finally speaks, albeit with a scowl in her face,
'I am only trying to sort out my conflicted options.Berate you for giving them an ultimatum or congratulate you for making the biggest crime dealer of Western Europe, Donny Elle pissed.'

Tilting my head, I ponder about it carefully, with a finger tapping my chin sagely. 'Congratulate me, of course. You can't tell me you have forgotten what Snooty Donny has done.'

Her blue eyes darken almost instantly, 'How could I forget about that? He's the finest traitor and it's too bad that his skills have only been more polished than before. Who knows how many more poor crime novices got duped by him?'

I nod, agreeing with her, 'Exactly, but business remains business. It shall remain strictly that. If he can pretend that all is good and well and that he never even tried to knock off and steal from us, then I can pretend well enough too.'

Zoe lets out a loose breath, still a bit exasperated, 'It just gets tiring...this is why I don't like attending meetings.'

And she says it in such a dejected way, that I sit up straight and rotate towards her, 'What gets tiring?'

She waves her hand around, dismayingly, her eyes taking in that rare heaviness,
'This whole fiasco of a meeting. I saw the way Donny Elle was talking to you. Like a child in a room full of adults. You have been involved in the underworld since you were a teenager. So was I. And yet they always leave us out of conversations that we started. Treat us like we are just silly new beginners who simply can't comprehend or calculate the effects or as if we don't know what we are talking about.'

Hearing her say all these only brings out the emotions I was trying hard not to acknowledge and I sigh, leaning my head against the black leather seat and stare listlessly outside, at the blurry roads and the grand buildings with their artistic touches, 'It is upsetting and no matter how much we have accomplished, some of them, especially the men will always look down on us, simply because we are not men. We are women.'

I continue while staring outside the blurry window, 'I saw the way Donny Elle and everybody in that room ignored you, Zoe. It is so maddening. To not acknowledge a woman, to make her feel inadequate, a man does it best.
But that still will never change the fact that you are the Underworld's finest tech expert, that you have cracked more vaults and security codes than any of these ghastly men. You will go down in the history books of crime, so the jokes are on them. No matter the criticism or misogyny, we do not stop. Ever.'

Zoe nudges me affectionately with her elbow, her eyes slowly losing that hollowness, 'Now, I really do have no choice but to forgive you for the mishap in the morning.'

A startled laugh comes out of me and I say playfully with an arched eyebrow,
'Does that mean I can forfeit writing my will since I will possibly "not be murdered in a way that my supposed murderer is confident she will get away with"? '

She barks a laugh out, shaking her head, 'Don't make me regret saying that.'

After a beat of companionable silence, Zoe speaks again, this time with more seriousness, 'But really Sairs, what you just said... you spoke truth. It really doesn't matter if these men think we do not deserve our positions or belittle us or whatever. Because at the end of the day, we have proved it to ourselves, you have become the most infamous criminal, a feat everybody dreams of in the Underworld and like you said, I have done my own part. So to hell with them. We keep going, no matter what. For the girls that look up to us and for the women who never got the chance to live freely.'

I repeat after her, my voice filled tight with nostalgia,
'For the girls that look up to us, and for the women who never got the chance to live freely.'

'So, ' Zoe starts after a minute, popping a mint into her mouth, regaining her usual energy, 'Donny Elle will come around, won't he? '

Taking in the very artistic cafes and people milling about from my car window, I think carefully before saying,
'See, Donny Elle is a lot of things but he's not a quitter. Especially not when extra profit and plenty of cash are involved. '

And she finishes my sentence by declaring passionately,
'And everybody knows our missions always end with a fortune so he has no choice but to agree? '

'Precisely what I was going to say, my dear Watson.'

I would tip my hat off for her.

If I had one.

She hits me in the arm now, looking thoroughly excited, 'Since we have some free time to kill, which is a luxury, and also some cash in hand...you know what I am thinking? '

I grin at her burst of energy and eyes full of glinting excitement and we chime together,

'Shopping! '

______________________________________

It has been precisely three hours and we are still in the Carrousel du Louvre, the most famous and intricate shopping mall, mainly because of Zoe, who insists on trying each and every crop top, off-shoulders, summer dresses.

She would try on wedding gowns too, but noticing the perpetual danger that would come with wedding shopping, when there clearly isn't a wedding, I wisely steered her away from that direction.

Three cheers for Saira, please.

The definition of shopaholic wonderfully goes with Zoe.
She's also obsessed with the colour black a bit too much.

I am not one to talk because I happen to be wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans, (and love black in general) but you will not find me going around saying,
'Oh, I would love to marry the person who invented black clothes!'

Pop quiz: Guess who is speaking.

In the midst of getting the skincare products from a lavish and aromatic store, whose name I can't even pronounce, we hear the sound of high-pitched shouts and yells and I look back to see quite a commotion occurring right outside the store, in the lobby.

I can only detect girls in that crowd, looking very excited and frantic.

Is someone important coming?

Turning to Zoe, I open my mouth to ask her about this, only to have her snatching all the packages in one hand and grabbing my wrist with her other hand.
Of course, any sign of a noisy crowd and Shopaholic Zoe vanishes, replaced with Bodyguard Zoe.

Craning her neck to see the gaggle of women and girls alike there, she utters alarmingly, 'You know what I am thinking Sairs, we should have taken Jerk A and Jerk B with us.'

Jerk A and Jerk B happen to be our bodyguards who were following us in the car behind us, and who also stayed behind in the parking lot.

Why?
Because we said so.

We thought it wasn't necessary.
And the bodyguards of course listened and are remaining vigilant down there.

Zoe, for some bizarre reason, doesn't seem to like them very much.
Wait, it's probably because they look like sculpted models.
And she has a serious allergy to extremely good looking men.

She always says,
'I don't like it when my men are too perfect. I can't deal with perfect. There's usually something missing on the other side. '

I get her though, I really do.

Back to the chaos, Zoe takes all those packages and heaves it at me, I catch them well enough but I am surprised as to what she intends to do now, 'Are we leaving then? '

'We have to. Protocol comes first. '

I nod, because that is the logical thing to do.
A lot of mafias cover up a mass shooting by tricking women into gathering up a crowd so that the shooter can't be identified easily.
I really do hate men, especially the ones who take advantage of others like this.

Zoe wastes no time and calls Monsieur Razi, 'Yes, bring the car to the West Wing, please. We are leaving in ten minutes.'

She hangs up the phone and nods at the direction of the exit.

It's time to leave.

But she seems to be too nervous, her eyes darting back and forth from every customer, trying to find out who could be the assailant.
As we walk outside the store, I nudge her carefully with so many bags in my hands, I do not want them to fall,
'You alright? '

She finally looks at me and pauses her scrutiny, only to take some of the packages and bags from me, so now we are both carrying shopping bags.

And striding fast outside.

'Fine, but what if this is a set-up?Do you think Donny Elle would...'

I shake my head at that, 'He won't, not yet. I will have to piss him off a bit more for him to do this.'

Then it suddenly dawned upon me, and I ask hurriedly, 'You never told me, by the way. At the airport, someone tipped us off to the FBI, remember? Did you get notified? Any updates on that? '

Zoe shakes her head, gnawing at her lip, 'My Royal Tech Team have been searching relentlessly but to no avail. The person who tipped us off left no trace. Completely vanished. We have been cracking codes, monitoring the CCTV footage, still nothing.'

That doesn't sound right.

Who could it be?
We don't really have a shortage of enemies, it could be anyone.

As we enter the lobby, thoughts of this mysterious spy who has an eye on us, takes a backseat in my mind as I try to take in the scene.

The place is swarming with people and what is so strange is most of them are girls and they seem to be quite, quite happy and excited about something.

If their shouts and laughter are any indication.

Is this a French festival of some sorts?

They seem to be fawning over something with their animated hand gestures and...I see one of them shedding tears while laughing heartily.

What...is going on?

Bewildered, we try to make our way through this crowd and out of the mall, only to be slowed down by people who don't really want to move out of the way.
Do they not see how easy it is to fool them or hurt them in this situation?

Curiosity getting the most out of me, I ask a girl nearby, the one I just saw crying and laughing at the same time, 'May I ask what is going on? Why is everybody gathered here? '

She whips her head at me, faster than a tornado and gapes at me, like she simply can't believe her eyes, 'Are you serious right now? We are all waiting to see Ethan Desmond Moretz! The dashing trillionaire! '

After throwing me a disgusted look, she moves far away from me, like she does not want to be seen with someone who doesn't even know her dashing trillionaire.

Zoe scoffs next to me, 'Of course, they are all waiting.
You remember the gorgeous man whose picture I showed you that day? The one in the magazine?'

Wait a damn minute.
His name sounds familiar...like I have heard someone else utter his name...where was it?

But then I remember the magazine.

The. Magazine.

'You mean that egotistical self-centred jerk who is also a womanizer?'

Zoe narrows her eyes, amused, 'This is why I didn't read the article, only saw his gorgeous photographs.'

A disbelieving scoff comes out of me,
'I might actually knee this dashing trillionaire in the groin if I see him in front of me. Let's leave before we have the misfortune to see his stupid face.'

And of course, Zoe takes the perfect opportunity to pout and bat her eyelashes at me, 'I think we ought to stay, Sairs. I mean...what I wouldn't give to see you and the trillionaire meet.'

Scowling, I mutter incredulously,
'What happened to security protocol, miss? Someone clearly forgot where her priorities lie.'

She tips off a airy laugh and directs me towards the side exit doors, the main ones are still swarmed with all these people waiting to meet their obnoxious trillionaire.

'If there's anyone who can change someone's mind-set into a better one while simultaneously making that person fall in love with her, it's you.'

Rolling my eyes, I say as we finally come out of the riotously crowded mall, where girls wait in line to take one look at the arrogant, vile and uncouth trillionaire,
'I would rather break my legs and die than deal with someone like the dashing trillionaire.'

Laughing together at the absurdity of the entire day and everything that happened, we walk under the clear blue sky, with wispy clouds floating by and hop into the car, deciding to head to the hotel for some well deserved rest, a deliciously arranged lunch, sending more threats to Donny Elle and making more devious plans for our next few days in Paris.

**************************************

Author's Note:

Hello babycakes!
Did you like this one?

Tell me, does Donny Elle not sound snooty to you?
I am sure this man smells but covers it up with too much cologne. Or even Ariana Grande's latest perfume.

What do you think?

Anddd, Saira really seems to not like Ethan.
That's not good...or is it? (Harry Styles version)

Do let me know!
And do read on to see what is in store for both of them.
I have some quite interesting things planned for your spicy pair.

And of course,
It means the world to me that you are still here, still reading and i hope you are taking care of yourself, earnestly.

Drink that water, eat that cucumber(hey, what's wrong with cucumbers?)
and go for that walk.

Do it for yourself, my lovely readers.
I am proud of your progress, no matter how slow or time consuming it is, be proud.
And as always, thank you for reading!

Also do votee( if you love Zoe's temper, Saira's sass and clearly didn't like Snooty Donny Elle and his subtle aggression)

Do comment (i would love to hear what babycakes thinks about all thesee, trulyyy)

And sharee( but that's up to you,always)

Much love, Kubra.