[Chapter 5]

I stepped out of the lift, forcing the smile staying on my face. I was walking right into the devil’s lair here, and wow, surprisingly; I could still be walking straight and looking natural. My dad would be cheering up in heaven at how normal I looked at the moment.

No one had noticed the sophisticatedly-dressed woman at the glass door yet, so I walked in, a little surprised at their lack of security. Getting past security below had been easy work, and I was surprised to find absolutely no signs of security here. This was the FBI headquarters for the white collar division?

It frankly looked only like a busy, messy and disorderly office.

“Excuse me, but may I know where Agent Rainer Clarke is?” I asked the probably-desk-bound-for-the-past-few-years-agent nearby politely.

“I’m right here, Miss…” His voice came from behind, and I was slightly shocked to realize I hadn’t seen him in this messy place of a hellhole.

“Annabel Francis. Remember me, from this morning?” I turned, flashing a smile of politeness.

“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s nice to meet you again, Ms Francis, but I must know how you got through security.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard. There are doors that only FBI can pass through.” I replied with a smile and nod of my head, handing over a file to him, letting him take time to read through the details of the paper. Most of the information there had been kept as it was, but of course, there were my fake details.

“So you’re the new transfer from Bronx?”

“Positive, sir. I hope I did not make any bad impressions on you yesterday and this morning. I keep my business and personal life apart with a clear line of distinction. Rest assured that Dorian will not be knocking on the FBI doors at any time. It’s a pleasure to be working with you, sir.” I greeted respectfully, sliding fully into my eager-to-start-working persona of a woman who was stuck in the FBI.

“You’re going to be working on my team?” He asked, eyes getting a little wider.

“HQ thought you might need some help with your FBI ‘consultant’.” I replied, but before more could be said, the guy I knew as the Head of White Collar Division, Agent Daniel Barrett, interrupted our conversation.

“You’re the new transfer?”

“Yes sir.”

“Call me Barrett. Come with me to the office. We have things to discuss. Clarke, you might want to sit in. She’s going to answer directly to you anyway.” Agent Barrett – with the usual gruff, old grumpy man getup –growled, then began weaving through the messy maze of the office, clearly expecting me to follow.

Agent Clarke followed too, passing me the file back.

“Let me be the first to welcome you then. My name is Clarke, Rainer Clarke. You’re going to have to work with me and my crew, so I don’t expect any difficulties coming from you, alright? Where were you from before this?” The fed definitely was in his comfortable zone in his hideout at the FBI office –as compared to his awkwardness outside my door, his awkwardness when he was trying to shoo Dorian away last night.

“Bronx Homicide. Please don’t tell anyone about Dorian.” I pretended to beg –though it didn’t matter one bit to me at all, but I had to pretend that I was terribly put out to find out that he was my superior.

Again, there was the slightly amused smile, hiding behind a stern face that brought out the suave man in the suit.

“Of course. As long as your personal life don’t mix with your work.”

“I promise you, it will not. But I’m curious, sir, how old are you? Aren’t you a little young to be the Lead Investigator?”

He gave me a sideways look. “I’m 28. Topped law and criminology in my cohort. Came FBI. But I didn’t like boring paperwork, and I had a sick fascination with the Seyfrieds. I loved their flashiness, their courage. I came White Collar to help catch Seyfried.”

It was slightly surprising to hear an FBI agent idolizing a family of con artists, but still, I thanked him silently on the inside. His fascination must have gotten my Jack out of jail, and stuck here as an FBI consultant. Of course, jail would have been better than working for the FBI, but it definitely kept Jack’s hands and fingers nimble.

“And you did. How does it feel –to be the one who was crucial to catching Seyfried?”

By this moment, we were almost at the door already, but Clarke stopped before we entered Barret’s room.

“Like shit. He didn’t play his game well, and he lost his game to a girl. The girl conned him and ran away. He was dejected and depressed –lost his confidence and stopped playing. It feels horrible to know that you’ve caught the most wanted con artist, your idol, and realize that he lost only because he didn’t want to play anymore.”

Ouch, that was bad. Though Clarke didn’t know it at the moment, but I was complimenting my Jack silently internally. There was nothing more honorable when getting caught than making the Lead Investigator heading your case feel horrible when arresting you.

“Look, you can’t blame me, alright? Everyone’s been jilted before. You just happened to catch me at a point when I was jilted. Nothing much.” A new, very-familiar voice cut in our conversation, coming from behind, and I froze slightly. Hadn’t he gone out for coffee just a moment ago?

“Where’s your coffee?” Clarke had the same question in mind.

“Forgot to bring money.”

“Rather, finding a chance to get to know the woman who’d just walked in. You need to stop being paranoid about women now. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I don’t like you losing your head over a playing card.” Clarke replied, and I determinedly didn’t turn back –not wanting to know if he could recognize me past my disguise.

“Not just a normal playing card, Rainer. You should know better by now.”

“It’s not even your famous Jack of Spades.” Clarke snapped back –and for a moment, they sounded like arguing brothers.

“You don’t understand how important the cards are to me. I need to find this woman who dropped the Queen.”

Of course he did.

“Are you guys done talking? Come in, and close the door before Seyfried gets in.” Barrett’s pissed off voice came from the room, so I took the chance to duck quickly inside the room, escaping any need of conversing with him. There was protests coming from my Jack, and then Clarke slammed the door in his face, making me grin slightly.

These guys… no matter how they’d locked my Jack up; they still treated him like one of them. At least, here, I knew someone had been taking care of my Jack while I was gone. Someone that was FBI. Someone that was Rainer Clarke.

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

Introductions into the Bureau were pretty easy and surprisingly free of security questions. I was introduced to my team almost immediately, and though I didn’t plan to be working with them for long, I made my effort to learn about them and their lives.

Yuri was an amiable young woman who was overjoyed when she realized that there was another woman joining the team. Smith was a grumpy thirty-plus guy who was probably more or less resigned to the fact that he would be holding only this role as an Agent until he got old and retired. Ryan was just your usual work hard, play hard and flirt hard type of guy –seemingly the only guy who could fit in well with my Jack.

Jack… almost recognized me.

I’d pretended to be a fan of his work when I was first introduced, but he’d ignored everything else, staring at me, taking my height and my physique in. It rested for a long moment on my breasts –that pervert –then went on to my face. I’d worn contacts and dyed my hair black and tossed on some make up, but I hoped he hadn’t seen me for long enough to not recognize me.

“If you need some coffee, New Girl, you shouldn’t be coming here. The machine’s not going to come up with magic food. Downstairs is where the magic food works.” He slid up fluidly beside me when I began to approach the machine that could produce the heavenly goods.

“Oh yes?” I had injected a slight accent in my voice ever since I came, to make sure he couldn’t recognize me by voice. It disappointed me a little that my disguise actually worked though. I should have known better than expect him to recognize me.

“You could come with me downstairs, and I can get you going with a smooth cappuccino.” He offered a hand, still trying to flirt. For my part, I pretended to be awfully flattered and took his hand.

“What happens if I’m not feeling up to a cappuccino?” I asked with a raised brow as he led me back towards the glass doors.

“Then we will get you a latte. Or espresso.”

“Your treat, Hayden?”

He gave me a surprised look. “You have got to be the first person who calls me by my first name around here. Feels like I’ve gotten my identity back.”

“Well, I’m glad you have your identity, because I’m pretty sure you have no money right now.” I removed my hands from his, taking a step away to let him searching himself confidently for his wallet.

Eyes were on us as he began to flip through his pockets, searching for a wallet that wasn’t there anymore. I took it out from my pocket, dangling it before his eyes with a smile. Boy, this trick had been done since we were kids, and here my Jack was, still getting caught.

His eyes narrowed on me dangerously, as if trying to tell me to not play around with him, snatching his wallet back, flipping through it quickly, and then sighing in relief when he found his cards.

Rather –my cards.

“Mr. Jack of Spades, huh? I’ll wait for you downstairs while you cry to Clarke. I’m sure you don’t mind the twenty I lifted for my latte.” I laughed as I skipped out of the office, taking the lift back down.

It took him a full five minutes to come after me, and I was already waiting with our drinks when he cleared security.

“Macchiato, extra cream and foam and less sugar for you.” I handed him his cup, already sipping on my own.

“How did you know of my favorite…?” He asked as I began to lead him towards the benches outside of the building.

“It was always your favorite, Jack of Spades. It would have been better if there was caramel, but there wasn’t.” I revealed as I sat my butt comfortably on the wooden bench, watching the hustle bustle.

“Yeah, how did you-” He began to ask, but words stopped halfway when he choked on his coffee, spluttering suddenly. I watched on with amusement as he removed the top of the cup, finding the little gift wrapped in plastic. Silently, I pretended to watch with curiosity as he fished out the plastic, unwrapping the card inside it.

He took it out, and faced it up, gasping.

“Where did you get this?!?” He demanded quickly, turning to me, desperation alight in his eyes again.

“Why, from the coffee house.” I pretended to be surprised, reaching to take the card from him, but failing when he jerked his hand away.

“Who are you?” He demanded, jumping up to his feet. “You’re not Annabel, are you?”

I laid back and sipped on my latte, crossing my legs. “Maybe.”

“You-” He began to say, but I took out a card from my pocket too.

In his hand was the Queen of Spades, and signed with my hand, proclaiming that ‘I’m right here’.

In mine was the Jack of Spades, signed with the same hand, proclaiming ‘Seriously, I’m right here.’

He looked at the card in my hand, back to my face, then back at the card. The realization sank in long, long afterwards, after I finished my latte.

“You’re… the Queen of Spades…” He whispered, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, Jack. I’m back. Who did you think it was?” I sighed, taking his hand in mine.

“I… can’t believe it. You’re back…”

“Back to save your ass. What, you don’t miss me?” I asked, spreading my arms wide open for an embrace.

He looked at me uncertainly for another long moment.

Then he launched himself into my embrace, returning to the years ago when I was all he had.

“Hayley… you’re back...”

“Of course… I promised I would be back, didn’t I, little brother?”