#ladytay

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Gem stepped over the dashed white line that marked the entrance to Olive Point.

This mission had been stalled for over a month by multiple complications, including but not limited to the introduction of a new department head in her agency, but today was the day that she was finally permitted to return to it. It had taken a good amount of paperwork; her new boss had spent a good week rereading all of her work so far and then asking question after question about what she had discovered so far, and then she had to re-sign all of her forms and documents for some clerical reason that her boss hadn’t really bothered to explain.

“Paperwork, you know how it is,” her boss had said, waving her complaints away.

Gem had narrowed her eyes in response. “I do, which is why I’m so confused. I’ve already confirmed I understand my legal limitations and turned that form in. Why do they need it again?”

“If I knew, I’d be in administration, not espionage, wouldn’t I?”

And then she’d received another three forms for her efforts - all of which she was certain she’d signed just days ago - and realised that her boss might just be messing with her at this point.

After that, she’d stopped complaining so much, and the paperwork had dramatically decreased. Gem could pick up a hint.

Finally, she’d been allowed to return to the field, this time attending the same party that her target was attending in hopes of finding some sensitive information. It had been a good month since she had even seen her target. Her stomach was doing flips at the thought of sharing a room with her target at all.

Gem managed to keep a calm composition all the way through the process of entering the club and locating her target, but then -

She had changed.

Last time Gem had seen her target, her hair had been longer and straighter, falling flat around her shoulders like a curtain of silk. And she’d only really seen her in the professional wear she wore on the train and in her workplace, which was where Gem had been situated during her observations last time.

Now, however, her hair was cut and curled so that it hung just above her shoulders, shimmering in the flashing lights of the party as if it was set with stars. Her dress was short and bouncy and pretty and cute. Oh goodness - Gem’s target was cute.

Maybe she should have expected to be surprised to see her wearing anything but sharp navy suits and pressed shirts. Maybe she should have known better than to think her target was just a distant figure, moving about her unchanging life with no care for anything outside of it. Maybe she should have seen the butterflies in her stomach coming.

But when her target looked over at her across the room and gave her a small, friendly smile, she was caught entirely off guard all the same.

Well, fabulous.

Gem was doomed.

-

Gem hadn’t come to the party alone, of course. It would be just suspicious enough to be memorable, and so she had asked her colleague and closest friend Cleo to accompany her for the night. Cleo was better at parties, too - she fit in better with the noise and brashness of the guests, without the more delicate manner Gem usually preferred to wear in her civilian identities - and had even lent her one of her dresses for tonight.

Still, Cleo had left her side after only a few minutes, apparently finding some interest in the bar, leaving Gem to navigate the odd social event that was a late party on her own. It wasn’t that much of an issue, or she would have called Cleo back and suffered the grumbling she’d get in return, but it still did make focusing on her mission a little harder - especially with her newfound distraction.

Her target, however, had apparently noticed her loneliness. She approached Gem a good half an hour after Cleo had vanished, a pair of drinks in her hands and a grin on her face.

“Hello!” she greeted, and Gem almost jumped out of her skin at hearing her voice in person rather than over a transmitted signal from a bug. “I saw your friend ditched you and thought you might want a conversation partner.”

“Oh,” said Gem. She was meant to say more, but the smell of her target’s perfume wiped the words from her brain.

“Would you like one?” Her target offered out one of the glasses. “It’s pineapple flavoured, apparently.”

Gem took the glass and tried to inspect it discreetly. “You haven’t tried it?”

“Don’t tell my friends, but I’m a bit scared to try it myself,” her target said, leaning a little closer and dropping her voice as much as she could over the loud music. “At least if it’s bad, someone else will get to experience the same badness, y’know?”

“That does make sense,” Gem agreed. She swirled the glass a little, before deciding that it looked safe enough. “I’d be honoured to give it a go with you.”

“Perfect!” her target beamed, and then downed the whole glass in one. Unsure if she was meant to do the same in this specific circumstance, Gem followed suit.

“Oh shit,” she said suddenly, “that’s stronger than I expected.”

Her target glanced at her expression and burst into laughter, eyes crinkling up at the edges and cheeks flushing the longer she laughed. “You look horrified! Why did you have it all in one go?”

“You did the same thing!”

“Yes, but I can handle it! And no offence, but you don’t really seem like… well, do you feel okay?” her target asked, voice dipping into concern.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Gem said. “Really, I am.”

Her target gets her some water and takes her to another room to sit down anyway, still stifling a few giggles behind her palm as Gem blinks confusedly at the new, quieter environment and the steel table in front of her. Eventually, her target seemed satisfied, settling down on another chair with her chin in her palms and elbows on the table.

She talked at her for a few minutes as Gem sipped on her water, talking about how it was her friend’s birthday party and how her friends had decided to dance far too close to the speakers for her to join them and how her name was Lizzie, by the way, and it was very nice to meet her.

In return, Gem introduced herself as Meg - not her most creative name, sure, but these were more unusual circumstances than usual - and explained that Cleo was far more the party type than her, inventing some tale about how they had decided to drag Gem out of the house for once to see what the scene was like.

“It’s a shame she didn’t stick around to show you around a little more,” Lizzie said when she’d finished her brief story. “It really can be a fun time here.”

“I’m not sure I’m the dancing type, really,” Gem replied, chuckling a little.

Lizzie gasped and raised her head from her hands. “But you haven’t even tried it!”

“I don’t know, I really don’t think -”

Without warning, Lizzie stood up and stretched a hand out to her. “Meg. You are going to dance with me right now, or so help me, I will find your friend and tell them you’re being a total scaredy-cat.”

“Alright, alright! Just for one song,” Gem compromised, taking Lizzie’s hand and letting her pull her to her feet. “And if I don’t like it, I’m sitting back down.”

“Trust me,” Lizzie said, tugging her towards the centre of the room, “you’re going to have a great time.”

There weren’t that many people in this room, as it was a little too early for most people to want to sit down and listen to slower music, so Gem felt almost unshielded as she awkwardly followed Lizzie’s steps, stumbling a little as she did. She wondered if the others in the room could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest.

The truth was, she wasn’t nearly as much of a lightweight as Lizzie thought, nor was she as bad of a dancer as she was pretending. She didn’t have any excuse at all for her rapid heartbeat or the flush in her cheeks. Even a few songs later, after they’d tried a slower dance and a faster dance and something in the middle that they couldn’t quite figure any good way to dance to, it felt as though she was floating in a warm haze.

Even when Lizzie eventually bid her farewell to go home with her friends, she could feel her hands tingling from where their hands had been tightly knitted together for the last hour.

Cleo returned, finally, her back pocket a little less empty than it had been a few hours ago. The moment she saw Gem’s face, she sighed.

“Please don’t tell me you spoke to her,” Cleo said. “And please don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on her.”

“I don’t!” Gem replied, but her flustered tone gave away the lie in an instant. “I - listen, it’s nothing important. It’ll vanish by tomorrow - it’s just the alcohol, probably!”

“Uh huh. Well, I think I’m good for the night, so I’m headed home. Are you ready?”

Gem folded her arms over her chest. “Of course. I’ve been waiting for you. This really isn’t my kind of place.”

“If you say so,” said Cleo, grinning in that practised way that Gem knew was reserved for missions in the public. “I’ll order us a taxi, then.”

Fortunately, Cleo didn’t press her on her recently acquired feelings for the rest of the night, and Gem got all the way back to headquarters without having to think about them at all, getting back into uniform and sitting down at her desk to finish the night’s task.

It was only when she was actually writing up her report that she had to stop and scream into her hands for a moment, unable to believe that she’d let this happen.