Not-So Undercover ~on hold~

dependent PANSIES

Chapter 3

If you have ever tried making breakfast for three guys, I can whole heartedly give you a one word description of how much work it is...

Exhausting.

I have never had to make so much food, granted I usually don't ever have to make food, but I'm not used to putting in so much work. I was making my second batch of pancakes for people that I couldn't care less if they starved or not. But I would be in a lot of trouble if they died while on a mission that I was leading, which would end up in me doing more work than I already am, and all this complaining would have been useless.

"Tara, when are you going to be done? I'm dying over here."

Don't listen.

Keep stirring.

"Taraaa..."

Focus on something else.

Like your cramping arm.

"Taraaa..."

You're doing something good.

Feeding the needy is good.

"Tara Swaaaaann..."

Must.

Stay.

Out.

Of.

Hell.

"TARAAAAA..."

Fuck this shit.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!? WHY DO YOU CONTINUE COMPLAINING WHEN YOU CAN SEE THAT IM MAKING MORE PANCAKES FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASSES! YOU KNOW WHAT DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT! SWANN OUT".

I flung the batter covered spoon in their direction, covering their face's with the batter and hitting Ben with the spoon. I didn't look like a maid, and I sure as hell wasn't about to act like one. They needed to learn to take care of themselves and not depend on someone else. In fact, I would pay good money to bet that Ben still depends on his mom. Blake and Remmington probably just paid someone to take care of all their needs.

And I mean ALL their needs.

I had so much I have to think do if I want to get this mission done and over with, and having to deal with a bunch of dependent pansies isn't on my to do list.

~~~

"I'll send you everything you need to jump start this project. Make sure you look over those files. Keep me posted."
Short and sweet. Those were all the words that needed to be exchanged between James and I.

Sighing, I picked of the files for my uncle and his 'associates', only to put them back down because I had looked at them so much, I could restate everything in there word for word, and draw their pictures without glancing at the hard copies.

How is it possible that one of the only places in the world that I felt most secure, could make me feel so uneasy.

Shaking off unnecessary nerves I prepare for a shower, but knowing that those good for nothing boys are probably hungry, I decide to tell them that they're on their own for dinner. I walked over to the intercom and hold the button for the kitchen, knowing that they've probably been in there all day.

"Hey, girls! You're on your own for dinner. Don't burn down my kitchen", I hold the button realizing they probably are too clueless to work in on their own, and I'm glad I did because they truly are idiots.

"Woooah.... how did she do that"

"I knew she wasn't telling us something"

"What is it?"

"She's a fucking witch!"

"Keep your voices down! She can probably hear us."

*sniffs* "Guys, I don't wanna die"

'Idiots', I mouth to myself. I don't get paid enough to deal with this.

"I can and I'm not", I state monotonously. This 'men' give me a headache.

"Can we order pizza?"

"Yeaaaah. Do whatever you want", I snort to myself. Are they serious, what pizza place would deliver to a house that doesn't have an address.

Chuckling to myself, I carry on with my evening preparing for my shower.

~~~

The shower was refreshing, but my grumbling of my stomach brings me to remember that I skipped out on lunch and I would possible die if I skipped dinner. Throwing on some sweatpants and a tee shirt, I leisurely make my way down stairs, praying to god that my kitchen is in tip top condition.

I could hear their yelling from the second floor, and I was slightly panicked.

The first place I checked was the kitchen, breathing a sigh of relief as I saw that there was nothing wrong.

And listening to the noise, I heard the continuous shouting along with the gunshots of a presumably violent video game. However, that wasn't all, tilting my head upwards, I could smell the strong scent of pizza. Looking back towards my kitchen, I questioned how it was in such good condition if they actually made pizza. There was no way they knew how to clean up after themselves, especially Ben.

Taking slow, cautious steps into the living room, I was question everything I knew to this point.

Was there really a way to deliver pizza to the house?

Why didn't I know?

How were they the ones to figure it out?

Do I underestimate them?

The last one made me laugh. They were idiots. Point. blank.

Walking into the room, I encountered a life-altering disaster.

Not because the once pristine room was dirtied by empty beer cans and pizza boxes.

Pizza. Boxes.

But, because sitting on the couch, taking part in whichever violent video game that was being played, were four boys. Not three.

I repeat,

Not.

Three.

Walking around to stand in front of the tv, preparing to reprimand the boys on 1) ordering pizza and 2) letting the pizza man/stranger stay, but as I focused on the man with the pizza hat, I realized he wasn't much of a stranger. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a semi-smirk that was branded in my brain, I couldn't look away.

Blake, Ben, and Remmington were too busy shouting at me to move to notice the exchange happening before them, but two words quickly silenced them.

"Hello, sister."

Why couldn't it have been the pizza man.

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haha sorry????