𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 (𝐛.𝐛)

Fair

The weekend had finally come.

So the meeting did as well.

"Mr. Barnes!" I shout from my bathroom. He bursted through my bedroom door as if my life depended on it.

"Are you okay?" He said breathlessly. His confusion from me standing perfectly fine with a curling iron to my head was coating his face. Speaking of his face, he had recently shaved. And there was a small amount of aftershave he hasn't noticed yet. His eye bags seemed less intense than the past week, so either he really knows his way around concealer or he finally got some sleep.

"Oh it's not an emergency. I was wondering if you could just help me get my dress zipped up in the back?" I ask. The curling iron started steaming a little so I took the strand and brushed it out a little before turning the iron off and unplugged it. "I don't exactly intended to show my matching set unless necessary." I ask, turning to him.

"Uh. Sure." He said questionably.

The air between us got warmer as he got closer. It's been like this since I trained with Sharon. When we got home that night. We ended up having burritos together, like at the dinner table. Together.

Even Steve and I rarely ate together.

Ever since, we would run into each other at work a lot more often. Well, he would come into the daycare area more often than before. So said Bex. And If Sharon and I were training, he would also walk me to training and observe to make sure we don't kill each other.

But my womanly sixth sense has a feeling it's more than that.

But I won't mention it unless he does or unless I need too.

His course hands felt warm with the velvet black dress. One he had picked out. I felt a little to talk for it but I figured I'd just pull it down. Not like I had much to hide up top.

Thank God I had somewhat of an ass. Which also took work at the gym.

Life is fair.

He zipped up the dress at a pace that felt somewhat slower than necessary. But I didn't mind. What I did mind was that my arms were getting goosebumps just from feeling his breath on my shoulder.

"There." He whispered. We both looked at ourselves in the mirror, to notice that we were both wearing all black. With red bottoms.

"Did you plan that?" I asked him, looking down to my shoes twin.

"No, I didn't pick out your shoes. Just the dress." He says looking down at mine.

I smoothed out the dress and ran my hands through the short curls. Men loved long hair. Sooner rather than later I was going to get some extensions. Especially if the work was going to be more intense.

I had been worrying about that. Killing people now. Not that I ever worried about killing them but I had to do more often. Especially now that holidays are coming up. Meaning holiday parties. Meaning bastards who drink too much, have a hard on all night, and doing shit they know they can't get away with are gonna be rising in the male population. Because I don't kill women. That was Steve's job.

Even Steve had limitations. Steve never ever choked a woman. If he had to kill her, she was shot. From a distance. He had a big fear of turning into his father. And when we worked for ourselves, he would personally apologize to the families. Never as himself, but as a new employee or some bullshit. It eased him and got the job done.

But for me? I had a jolly ole time killing men. Especially if they had a similar trait to Joseph. Some men deserved. Some didn't deserve it but we're forced into the life. I once let one of them go and now he owns a multi million dollar business. I even went to one of promotion parties and mentioned me in his speech.

I was the girl that saved his life and showed him an out.

But I rarely do that.

For the men that do deserve being killed, I'll always seduce them and then kill them before they get any pleasure.

I once killed one during the devils tango, but it was a big mess to get out of my own sheets.

And Steve was very disgusted with it.

"You ready to go Sunshine?"

"Yeah, let head out." I urge, grabbing the gun holster and hooking it on the back of my belt. "Steves meeting us there right?"

Alpine followed us down the stairs into the kitchen. "Yes, he is. Got your gun?"

"Yes sir."

He tended his jaw but it was gone as soon as it arrived. "Okay, let's get in the car."

I nodded and led us through the garage. I knew he was gonna choose the BMW before he even grabbed the car keys.

I was also hoping he'd choose the black car since it had seat warmers and my ass was officially freezing off. And it's the only thing I got goin for me so I'd like to keep it.

As we got in the car, he started it and drove straight out of the driveway, doing that hot guy thing with one hand on the wheel. And let me tell you, his hand was... let's say giving my mind things unholy things to think about.

God, us women are so easy.

And I would have those thoughts waiting for me tonight.

"So. Mr. Barnes."

"What Sunshine?"

I hit my cheek, annoyed that Steve is making me of all fucking people have this conversation.

"You know the day of our interview?" He let out some sort of grunt and I took that as a yes. "And how you have a no relationship in a work place policy thing?" I ask

"Sure do."

"So how... stern is said policy."

As he pulled to a red light he looked to me. "Pretty fucking stern sunshine. Why you askin'?"

I sighed before turning towards him. "Because someone at the workplace wants to ask out another employee but said employee declined the offer due to your policy and I was asked to ask you because your my roommate/boss and they thought I should ask you since I have a little bit of leverage. Not that I would ever do anything with the small amount of leverage. Just thought I'd ask." I finally took a breath as the car
started again.

"First off, put your seatbelt on." I looked down to my chest after he said that and slowly put the seatbelt on. I thought so could have gotten away with it. "Secondly, if you're one of the employees the answer is no."

Now, I'm pissed and confused. "Okay. I'm not the employee, but even if I was, why the hell am I the exception?"

"Because you live with Sunshine. In my house. You bring home someone, I have to live with hearing you some sick head going at it and to be fair, I don't want too."

"Okay well it's not me. So what's the answer."

"Tell them to come to me and fill out a shit ton of paper work." He says while pulling into a driveway of a a modern hispanic style villa.

It looked like it was cut out of one of Moms catalogs she would read after gardening or during dinner.

"Wow."

"This," James says while parking the car as we roll to a stop. "is Natasha Romanoffs building."