@darrenjfletcher
SUBJECT: This is also spam.
âShit.â

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@darrenjfletcher
@darrenjfletcher
SUBJECT: This is also spam.
âShit.â

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Ever wonder what will happen to your friends since you're not here to protect them from us? They were incredibly easy to locate, you know.
You're going to need more than orange juice to find us, Darren. Just ask our friend Fyodor Vaskovich.
âThey know Vaskovich? No...no they donât. Do they? No thatâs just a saying. Wait but...seriously? Crap.â
Grab some espresso. If you intend to locate even a glimpse of us you're going to have to break the world record for sleep deprivation.
âOh, it is so on. On like Donkey Kong. On like Michelle Kwan. Thatâs right. I will code figure eights around your proxies. And I wonât need your heathen espresso to do it. Better get your firewalls up Crusaders...â
@darrenjfletcher
SUBJECT: This is Definitely Spam
Everything has been so quiet since your departure, Darren. Remaining untraceable has never been easier as the police are absolutely terrible at everything. Not to mention they are under the control of a dictator who couldnât be bothered to find us even if he knew we were a threat.Â
Weâre still watching you.Â
As always,Â
Be Ever Vigilant.
âHow many proxy servers can one person have? Were they on sale this weekend? Next to the buy one get one free self-encrypting firewalls from Astraâs basement you back-tracing, little sons of byte...â

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Trains not planes, OJ not coffee, beginnings not endings.
A shake of her head and a single step back brought Lenaâs hands to her side though she immediately shoved them in her back pockets. âI canât argue with that,â the assassin hummed, âbut stay alive, please.â The resonant squeal of steel dragging atop steel diverted her gaze. âTime to disappear,â she directed mostly at herself, nodding once to Fletcher. âHave a nice life.â
âOh I plan to,â he replied, having every expectation that his life would be nothing but grand. Heâd been a hero to the people, made a brilliant escape, and kissed a gorgeous stranger: things could only keep going up from here. âThanks for everything, Lena,â he added, pulling the other strap of his backpack of his shoulder as he gave her one last wave. And with that, the young hacker was off, making an all too chipper march off to the train that would take him on to his next big adventure. He only hoped it was as wonderful as his last.
millenarism:
The distinctive post-goodbye-kiss quiet lingered in the still night air between them and Lena silently wondered why she felt so invested in the accuracy of the fabric of their story. She chalked it up to being a superb actress. One hand cupped his cheek gently, thumb dragging over the skin there. âOff to the next one. Donât get yourself in trouble.â
âOh Iâm sure I will,â he replied with a wide smile. Trouble and Fletcher were good friends after all. âThereâs no good adventure without a bit of trouble,â he added. Lena seemed like trouble, but it was worth the adventure of getting to know her. An adventure sadly cut short by the sound of a distant train that caused Fletcher to glance over his shoulder. âThink thatâs my cue, love,â he apologized, taking a reluctant step towards the track. ââTil next time.â
millenarism:
Slim fingers found the curls at his hairline, nearly winding themselves in his soft hair. A dramatic goodbye kiss, huh? Either Fletcher had spent more time watching action films with dramatic endings than Lena had assumed, or he was really good at this. The assassinâs lips parted beneath his, giving Fletcher one final moment to live up to the expectations of the James Bond Cinematic Universe⌠and Lena could hardly help the simple fact that she was quite enjoying it all. It took a minute for Lena to remember herself, leaning back only slightly. A breath parted lashes, a gentle smile returning to the apples of her cheeks. âDramatic enough?â
Fletcher all but forgot what in the world he was doing in the middle of the woods at the dead of night, and assumed it must have been to kiss the surprisingly sweet girl whose arms were wrapped around his neck as his were around her waist. So when she leaned back, teasing the actual origin of their story, Fletcher had a moment of dumb silence before he could respond in kind. âUh yea...definitely...â amazing â--dramatic.â He laughed slightly, constantly amused by the wonder of people and their many surprises. âGuess thatâs one adventure finished.â
Gaze trained on the tracks ahead, Lena had almost forgotten they werenât running off together. The night had been far too enjoyable for a simple âdeliver cupcake to a location aliveâ mission and, admittedly, Lena was sad to see it endâ if only because it meant she would have to make the trek back to the castle after curfew and alone. âNot a tragedy, got it,â Lena affirmed, finally turning to catch Fletcherâs sunshine smile. Lips pulled taut in a grin, Lena silently admired the guyâs guts. He had seen her kill a person earlier. âAlright, well prepare yourself for drama,â she shrugged, though the enthusiasm broke through as she leaned forward to wrap her arms around Fletcherâs shoulders.Â
Despite very clear instructions, Fletcher was absolutely unprepared for Lenaâs magnificent break from the long pattern of rejection Darren was used to. Though utterly astonished, he still managed to play his part in their dramatic reenactment, placing a hand on her waist if only to brace himself for her unbridled enthusiasm. Of all the thoughts to go through his head while a gorgeous girl was kissing him, Fletcher couldnât help but wonder why in the world action heroes kissed the girl before they departed; it made it all but impossible to find the motivation to step foot on a getaway train, let alone take a single step back.

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âSwitzerland, it is.â Lena could have done more to abate the dip in tonality, several syllables lingering near crestfallen, but she was never one for façades. A certain tarnished gleam reflected softly from the train tracks, as though the iridescence of the moon was trapped beneath the worn steel beams. âAlright then, James,â the assassin acquiesced, âwhat else do we need to complete your adventure?â she questioned with a smile as they stopped. âIâm not dying, so thatâs off limits.â
Fletcher flashed a smile most unbecoming for his newly acquired title, but he was all too pleased for Lenaâs participation in the fiction of a happy ending. Adjusting his small backpack as he glanced over his shoulder, he turned to properly face his new partner in crime. âOh no dying of course, this isnât a tragedy,â he assured because to Darren, it truly wasnât. Just the continuation of a long and fascinating story. âBut I do believe nowâs about the time when Bond has a dramatic parting kiss before he disappears into the night,â he suggested, cheeky as always. He expected a parting slap more than anything else, but no amount of negative reinforcement had cured the boy of his terrible attempts at romance.
âWell actually Angie said your optimism and general Neutral Good-ness would have gotten you killed because you were so good. So not necessarily âtoo goodâ just âtoo good for your own goodâ basically.â Lena had forgotten her hand rested in his until she went to gesticulate, promptly halting the action. âIs that actually where youâre going? No, wait. Donât tell me that. Itâs better if I donât know.â
âIâm rather attached to my optimism...and my neutral âgoodness,â so I supposed itâs armed guards or Switzerland,â he determined with a shrug. âI never was good at staying in one place anyways. And no good Bond movie is complete without an epic getaway.â And contrary to her belief, he was clearly the Bond of this tale. Coming to a halt as at a clearing in the woods, Darren finally spotted what he had set out to find: train tracks. Just clear of the city check points and on a slow haul to the North, it was a familiar mode of transit that he was all too good at slipping onto. âTrains not planes,â he echoed with a smile.
âCool. Sounds good.â Claire smiled as she put the strap to the case over her shoulder and stood up to go. At the doorway she turned back toward Fletcher and gave him a kiss on the cheek. âSee you next time.â She hated to keep him since something obviously had come up. She understood if he was busy. With a smile still on her face, she then headed out; knowing she had to get back to the hideout.
Fletcher managed a nod and a mumbled uh-huh as Claire made her exit, far too lovestruck by the small show of affection to give a proper response as his features lit up with a delayed blush that luckily no one was around to tease him for. Smiling to himself as he closed the door, he determined that perhaps Roma wasnât all out to get him. There were certainly some people worth staying for. âSee you next time, Claire.â
claire-hooley:
âMaybe, just maybe.â Startled by the sudden buzzing, she had to admit she jumped a little. She watched as Fletcher scrambled to find the source, or sources really. âOh, right, sorry.â Claire started to put the guitar back in the case, speaking as she did. âMaybe we can meet up again sometime.â
âYea, no...definitely,â he agreed enthusiastically, typing in the password to one phone as he tried to forcibly shut-off the other. âWe should do this thing...I mean not with the guitar---you can bring your guitar if you want though! I just meant Iâd like to see you without it...or with it...â he trailed off, struggling to adequately respond to her suggestion as he glanced at a rather disconcerting message on phone number three. With the racket finally silenced, he shoved the last device in his pocket and tried to offer a simple statement. âIâd just like to see you again sometime. Thatâs all,â he explained, standing up to see her out the door.

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millenarism:
Lena nudged Fletcher in the side with her elbow, a grin concealed by night, the shake of chestnut tresses hardly visible. âWhoa now, Mister. Donât you take that tone of voice with my DC babies,â she threatened playfully. âI believe Angelo is capable of keeping us secure, but youâre leaving Rome for, apparently, being too good so itâs not surprising.â Lena peered through the clearing thicket with a narrow gaze, hoping Ricardo wasnât smart enough to have guards this far outside the city. âJust donât hack into my webcam or anything⌠I donât need people knowing about my post-shower dance sessions.â
If ever there was a deterrent for not hacking webcams, the threat of post-shower dancing most certainly wasnât it, but Fletcher chose to ignore that comment to the best of his abilities. âBeing too good, is that what Angie told you?â he asked with a raised brow and a creeping smile. âWell then...I mean, who am I to refute a reliable source.â He shrugged his shoulders with faux humility, clearly beaming with pride at the compliment. âI guess Iâll have to tone down the awesome in Switzerland.â
Adorable, unique, and interesting were the words Claire would have chosen easily to describe Fletcher. That and she knew there would never be a dull moment. âFantastic!â She gave him a round of applause for his rendition. âSee, you have some musical talent after-all. Iâll have to remember this for when the band comes up.â
âThank you, thank you, Iâll be here all week,â he responded with a gracious and dramatic bow, carefully handing back the guitar. âAnd see, there is a band in the works, I knew it!â he declared triumphantly, proud to have plucked out some confidence from the talented girl. It was at that brief moment of victory, however, that no less than three separate phones went off at once, all hidden under the mess of wires that covered the coffee table. âOh...shoot...hold on a minute.â scrambling the silence the cacophony of buzzing and beeping, one thing became very clear. âHate to break up the band, but I think this is my cue.â