I Thought It Was Over

Chapter 9 - Becky and Angel

9.1 Becky and Angel

 AGAIN GO READ MEG'S BOOK IT IS AMAZING AND SHE IS WRITING A SEQUEL AND IT MAKES ME HAPPY WHEN SHE FANGIRLS ABOUT HAVING x AMOUNT OF READS

“Oh no, I don’t do washing,” Angel protested.

“You share the safe house, you share the jobs,” I told her, offering the dishcloth.

I was trying to get her to wash up so that I could look for my phone and contact HQ, mainly to yell at them for making me share a safehouse with Angel. The rest of the afternoon had disappeared in introductions, sorting out rooms and target practise; we had all gotten really good with our guns/Tasers etc.

“Who do you think you are?” Angel snapped, shoving the cloth back at me.

“Becky King, sixteen, member of FBI,” I replied, playing innocent.

“Ugh, FBI. Anyway, I’m older, so don’t tell me what to do.”

“I was here first – and what was that about the FBI?”

“I don’t care if you were here first. You are just a little kid. And the FBI are so… well known. They are so public ad honestly I don’t think that they are really who they say they are.”

“What do you mean by that? Look, are you going to wash up or not – I need to go yell at my boss for being stuck here with you.”

“Wait you can’t! They can’t know that I’m here, my boss is hunting me. My job didn’t turn out as expected…”

I saw the pain in her eyes and relented.

“Fine, I won’t tell them. Although I did want to yell at them…”

“Get over it,” she smirked. I rolled my eyes.

“Fine – I won’t tell, in return for you helping with housework – dishes today, helping cook tomorrow.”

“Fine, but I will only wash the dishes, not dry and put away,” she argued.

“Stop being such a baby. It is just a five minute difference. Plus, I would just let them drip dry overnight.” She rolled her eyes at me.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find my phone,” I said. I handed her the dishcloth, and started trying to remember where my phone was meant to be; then Harry walked out of the bathroom dangling a gold iPhone between his thumb and forefinger.

“Um, I found this in the bathroom when I was looking for deodorant…?” he said, sounding unsure.

“Yeah, that’s mine, thanks,” I gabbled, grabbing it.

“Okay, you’re welcome. I think.” He was confused, but I just grinned.

“Long story. Do you want something to drink?” Angel shot me a weird look and then continued washing.

“Yeah I’ll have an orange juice please,” Harry said. I dropped the phone on the counter and opened the fridge.

“Angel, you want anything?”

Angel looked up. “Nothing for me, I don’t drink.”

“Okay, well more for us.” I said, winking at Harry. Actually I wasn’t sure if we had any alcohol, but I could still flirt.

“Actually make that a tequila shot.”

“Angel are you sure?” Harry asked, concern evident in his eyes.

“You act so worried? Why?” I asked.

“Oh. No reason. Actually I might have a tequila as well.” Harry commented. He looked at Angel, as if looking for approval. She just looked away. Huh. I wonder what happened there. Oh well.