Messy Relations - Burn Notice
May. 15th, 2008 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jebbypaltitle: Messy Relations
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jebbypal
rating: teen
disclaimer: not mine.
a/n: Written for prompt 19: Michael - a job gone wrong
Sometimes, a job requires extended time in one place. This in turn requires that a spy form relationship. Nothing looks more suspicious than a loner that never talks to anyone while tailing certain people.
Long jobs are complicated by the fact that spies, as a whole, get more and more transparent over repeated interactions. We tend to like to get in, do the job, and jet off to another country in time for dinner. Long jobs, and the relationships that they require, make things messy.
I really loathe messy.
“Ah, she’ll love that one, mate.”
I wince as Fiona’s brother, one of five that is, slaps me on the shoulder. The bullet wound from my first date with Fi smarts even after four months. “I’m not giving your sister edible underwear. Too many people at the party will be carrying weapons.”
“Eh, Gramps would find it funny,” Conall replies. “Maybe when the two of you are alone.”
His wink sends chills down my spine. I really wish my contacts on this job came from a more repressed background.
author:
jebbypalrating: teen
disclaimer: not mine.
a/n: Written for prompt 19: Michael - a job gone wrong
Sometimes, a job requires extended time in one place. This in turn requires that a spy form relationship. Nothing looks more suspicious than a loner that never talks to anyone while tailing certain people.
Long jobs are complicated by the fact that spies, as a whole, get more and more transparent over repeated interactions. We tend to like to get in, do the job, and jet off to another country in time for dinner. Long jobs, and the relationships that they require, make things messy.
I really loathe messy.
“Ah, she’ll love that one, mate.”
I wince as Fiona’s brother, one of five that is, slaps me on the shoulder. The bullet wound from my first date with Fi smarts even after four months. “I’m not giving your sister edible underwear. Too many people at the party will be carrying weapons.”
“Eh, Gramps would find it funny,” Conall replies. “Maybe when the two of you are alone.”
His wink sends chills down my spine. I really wish my contacts on this job came from a more repressed background.