Chapter Text
You sit idle in your seat waiting outside the conference room of the impressive Statesmen building. You were awaiting nervously their deliberation on whether you were being accepted into a senior agent position. You had never worked for them, never even been in this part of the country before. An organization based in London that you previously worked for was infiltrated causing a mass evacuation of agents leaving many of us stranded. You had taken a break after that happened, worked in a café, and had a small closet-sized apartment in California. But months went by and you were missing your old job. Despite its violent nature, you loved my line of work and felt like it gave you purpose to life. You were having a hard time readjusting yourself and fitting back into a normal routine. It wasn’t easy to apply for the Statesmen. They had never offered a stranger a senior position before, agents had always worked their way up to it. But either way, you were desperate to get back to the action. You would take whatever job they gave me.
The door opened beside me and an agent called Ginger Ale asked you to come in. As you entered, you observed the room, there were four agents in person and two holograms sitting in seats around the long conference table. Champagne or champ as he demanded you call him shook your hand and offered a seat. Your eyes traveled around the room observing its members out of occupational habit. They stop and linger at a man sitting closest to Champ. A cowboy hat sat filmy over his brown locks that completed his eyes and mustache. He seemed to cast power over you for a moment before you return your attention to the room, reminding yourself who you were and where you are and to take a seat in the only empty seat.
“Now, Agent. This is highly unconventional for us, but we’d like to offer you our senior position here at the Statesmen.” Champ smiles and you let out a small sigh of relief that you were finally back working again. “Thank you, sir.” You reply with a smile of gratitude. “First matter of position is your name.” Champ starts and you give him a quizzical look. “Well, we’ve got here Tequila, Ginger Ale, and Whiskey.” Champ explains and you look back to the handsome man from before, he tilts his hat at the mention of his name Whiskey. It was fitting for the agent and you wondered if he was just as smooth as the drink.
It felt a bit silly to you. You had a few code names back at my old agency, but nothing extreme like this. “It took me some time, but I’d like to welcome you to the team, Malibu.” Champ smiles and Ginger claps behind you out of appreciation.
“Malibu?” You question wondering why exactly he chose that name for you. You didn’t even drink white rum and now it was your call name.
“Well you’re from California, aren’t you?” Champ says leaning back in his chair starring down at you. Trying to intimidate you into accepting the title he had bestowed onto you. You stutter out trying to explain that you only lived in California while you were in limbo between jobs and are in fact, not from Cali at all. “I think it’s perfect.” Ginger pipes up behind you after hearing your utterance and trying to make you feel better about being a fish out of water.
“Anyway, just while you’re settling in, I’ll be paring you up with Agent Whiskey here so he can show you how we do things around here.” Champ explains sliding a file over the oak desk towards you. You shoot a look over at Whiskey who sending a similar fiery stare your way. You kept your mouth shut after Champ excuses everyone and had Ginger Ale show you your new office.
“Got any advice?” You ask her as you drop the files onto the empty desk.
“Whiskey’s a big flirt, but he’s harmless.” she explains to you and giving a reassuring look. You weren’t even sure if that was what you meant when you asked her for advice but clearly, she thought it was important to mention. “Thanks.” You nod and she excuses herself back to her own space to leave you to figure out your place in all this. You thought about going over to Whiskey, asking to debrief over the file, or at least give you any tips for a new agent. But from Ginger’s guidance, he could trouble, especially if you were already finding yourself attracted to him. You really needed this job.
A sharp knock of the glass door to the office alerts you to look up from the shuffled papers in your hand. Your eyes spot Whiskey offering a small smile and holding some similar-looking folders in his hands. Circling around the desk you walk over and open the door for him. “Hi, can I help you?” You ask sitting back down in your seat. Whiskey struts into your office with intensity and a strategic smirk tugging at his lips. Staying professional was the most important thing to you right now and learning that Whiskey could be trouble made you worry about working with him. You weren’t about to jeopardize this job for a cowboy. Even a dangerously good looking one. “Just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Jack. What’s your name sugar?” Whiskey’s southern drawl gives you goose-bumps when he speaks, but he didn’t need to know that. Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you watching him carefully you reply. “Nice to meet you Whiskey. Any insight on the case we have?”
Whiskey shifts in his boots at your professionalism. Ever since his eyes spotted yours in the conference room, he knew he would have to make you his. You seemed so young to be getting a senior agent role. He had worked his ass for years to earn his position in the Statesmen. It made him want to take you over his lap and reduce you nothing but a moaning mess at the behest of his hands. But as soon as Champ partnered you up with him his stomach sank. He’d never worked with a partner before. He preferred to work solo, he got the job done better that way. Now he had to babysit the new agent and that didn’t sit well with him. He was still being punished by Champ and he knew he would have to play nice in order to ditch you as soon as possible. It frustrated him further when you refused to call him by his name. You could at least give him that. He wanted to know what it would sound like coming from your sweet lips. He wanted to save the memory for later when he was alone and needy. But you had to be professional. So, he stood begrudgingly in your office while you asked him questions about the case. He let his mind drift off while you spoke to him. You were wearing a white blouse that was stretched across your cleavage. He wondered if you’d let him rip it off your chest and pull down your jeans, leaving you bear in your office. He’d fuck the professionalism right out of you and have you moaning his name so loud that the whole office would hear.
“Whiskey are you listening to me?” your vexing voice breaks him out of his daydream, and he appears wild-eyed at the furious look you’re giving him. Whiskey knows he’s been caught and does nothing more than clear his throat and offer you a curt apology. “Are you going to be a problem?” you pry leaning back into your chair and sizing the agent up. You knew what he was looking at, he wasn’t being discrete about it. You just didn’t think he’d be that brazen, and stupid. Whiskey bit his tongue. How dare you speak to him like you had any kind of authority over him. But he was reminded that his own job was at stake if he didn’t behave. “No Malibu, I can assure you I will not.” Whiskey utters through a clenched jaw. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile and return your attention to the paper in front of you and wait for the fuming Whiskey to make his way out of the office. Getting under his skin was proving to be easy, and fun for you too. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.