THE BLACKBOURNE TEAM

CHAPTER 1

"Is everything okay here?" Owen Blackbourne asks, almost flinching as Olympia swings around to look at him with a glare. 

"Nyet," She tosses a look over her shoulder, "This is the team I am moving in with. You may say goodbye to me now." 

Luke Taylor and Gabriel Coleman choke down laughs, it was easy to see that the couple in front of them was in an argument over something. And if the pink paint splatters across the posh-looking man said anything, it was probably a really petty fight. 

"Darling, you're not moving out over this," Owen pauses, glaring slightly at the group behind her, "And if you were, it would be to your brother's team, not this group of hooligans." 

Olympia suddenly breaks into a huge smile, a short happy squeak leaving her as she practically bounces on her feet, "Da! Yes! I will call Raven! He will sort this for me!" 

Owen's face pales, moving forward before he could comprehend what was happening, as Olympia snatched out her cell-phone from Owen's shirt pocket and took off running out the front door to the front lawn. 

Completely disregarding the new team Dr. Robert's had just informed him would be stopping by, he shoves past them and rushes after Olympia, shouts falling off of his lips. 

The scene was extremely humorous to someone outside their team, a petite woman, barely 4'11 running around a perfectly mowed lawn while screaming curses at a phone and cackling madly, and a 6'3 suited man with pink paint splatters covering his front chasing after her with promises and shouts of his own leaving his lips. 

The scene was extremely concerning to the cherub looking blonde doctor that was pulling up into the driveway, after leaving to the store hours prior to find some kind of Russian treat he couldn't even pronounce. He had inevitably ended up driving two hours north to get the dessert. Not that he would complain. 

Putting the car in park and shutting it off, her barely even glances over the group that now stood on the edge of the lawn, all eight members with various levels of emotions on their face. 

Neither Olympia nor Owen notices as he slams the door, the white bakery box clutched in his hand as he rounds the car with furrowed brows. 

As Olympia makes another lap around the yard, darting between Owen's legs as he nearly caught her, Sean lets out a loud, nearly booming laugh, at the paint-splattered across the man's hair, face, and suit. Bright pink suited him extremely well. 

Sean's laugh attracts both of their attention, Owen letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of his husband, and Olympia letting out a happy squeal. 

Her phone hits the manicured grass as she takes off in a sprint towards Sean, her previous disagreement with Owen completely forgotten. 

With wide eyes, Sean turns and thrusts the white box that held Syrniki, Pastila, Ptichye Moloko, and Medovik. He wasn't sure what half of the sweet-smelling treats were, but her tears that morning had him making sure that nothing happened to that box and the desserts in it. 

By the time North took the box, Sean had just enough time to spin around and catch Olympia as she launches herself at him. Her legs wrap around his waist, her head burying itself in his shoulder while she practically purrs like a cat.

Owen lets out a groan as her ass flashes the group of men and a woman beside them, she was only wearing one of his shirts, which meant no underwear. It had been hell just getting her in the shirt this morning too. Russian's had no problem with nudity, at all. 

Stalking over, he jerks the piece of material down over the luscious fleshy cheeks, earning a snarl from her as she pulls her head up from Sean's neck to look over her shoulder and glare at him. Then stick her tongue out. Just for the fact of the matter. 

"What are the two of you arguing over now?" Sean asks, hiding his need to laugh at the two of them. 

Olympia was twenty-six years old, yet she acted like a child most of the time, even if she was in the process of killing someone. And Owen was a twenty-nine-year-old who acted like he was fifty, with everyone except Olympia, she got under his skin so well that he would be acting like a child within minutes of her being present. And their arguments, while normally explosive, were always childish in some nature. Both of them were cold-hearted robots to people outside their little family, and they used their arguments as a way to relieve stress because it was never over something entirely serious. 

Olympia's eyes are wide as she switches her attention back to Sean, resting her hands on his shoulder's while she animatedly and rushes to speak before Owen, "Vy ne poverite, chto etot grebanyy muzhchina sdelal na etot raz! On vylil ves' moy grebanyy lyubimyy kofe i s"yel chertovy solen'ya! Tak chto teper' ya ne mogu yest' ni kofe, ni solen'ya, ni kofe s solenymi ogurtsami! I ya ne mogu rabotat' po telefonu, poetomu ya ne mogu pozvonit' Marku, a znachit, bol'she kofe!" (translation below, when she repeats herself)

Sean cuts her off before she can continue, putting a hand over her mouth, "English, my honey-bunny, I don't understand hyper Russian." 

Groaning, Olympia squeezes his shoulders and throws her head back dramatically, before perking back up to look at him, "I hate having to repeat myself, but that's okay! Because this is very important! You won't believe what that fucking man has done this time! He dumped all of my fucking favorite coffees, and he ate the damn pickles! So now I can't have coffee, or pickles, or coffee with pickles! And I can't work the phone, so I can't call Marc, which means no more coffee!"