Spy School: Danger is my Middle Name

The Christmas Plot

I had to say I was a bit suspicious of Erica's behavior in decorating the little lobby she had rented out. Before, she had been retorting on how Christmas was a fake-joy holiday, since we could have much better things to be doing than staring at a tree and singing our lungs out.

It was either that this was some sort of dupe to distract the other agents while she went out on a solo mission by herself, or a plan to bait the Croatoan Agents that were most likely hiding inside the hotel, spying on us while we were spying on them.

Wait- if, theoretically, Erica knew about the bad guys inside the hotel, then she would be spying on them, which meant she was doing... let's see here... counter-counter-counterespionage. 

Well, that was rather confusing. But I could care less, because all I wanted was just to receive presents. I didn't really care about going on missions when we could chill and chat around a crackling fireplace with our friends, while Erica went out to do the dirty work.

I mean, Christmas to me was just a break. I really just cared about that.

I don't know how you guys think I would spend my Christmas (No, I don't lay back listening to 'All I want For Christmas Is You' and think about Erica), but I really just wanted to spend it with my family, deep down inside. That's really my only lust, other than Erica.

Yeah. I just said that to a ton of readers. Whatever- you guys are probably going to make a field day with it in the comments, but I couldn't really care less.

Anyways, let's just fast-forward a few minutes over to when I woke up from my three-minute nap. Somehow, even with a quick hypersleep of 180 seconds, my hair still managed to turn itself into a rat's nest.

"Perfect!" Erica noted when I commented about this mess. "They won't suspect a thing about us meeting up at night! After all, if we did, then you would obviously have your hair groomed already."

I groaned. I knew she was right, and this was actually a pretty tactical move, but I still appreciated a good-looking picture of myself. Unlike Ivar, I didn't walk around with a hurricane in my hair and in a I believe I can Fly shirt. (Sorry, Ivar- I just had to do that.)

Zoe, meanwhile, on the contrary to Erica, raised an eyebrow at my head when she caught eye of my bad case of morning scalp.

"You really need to improve your hygiene," she complained. "Just looking at that is giving me goosebumps. Ahhh -get over here- I can't take it anymore!"

Dragging me by my hair, she pulled me over to the nearest bathroom, which was inside her own hotel room. It wasn't long before she started pulling out all of the girly makeup thingies that I didn't recognize and messing with my hair.

After about three minutes of me trying not to laugh from her ticklish movements near my neck, I finally calmed down from her makeover.

"Done," she said, pulling her hands away from my head. "Isn't that better? Hm?"

She turned my head over to the mirror, where my eyes met the light with my new hairstyle. It was actually pretty good-looking, and I swear Zoe casted a lusty glance in my way when she thought I wasn't looking.

I smirked and took her hand, leading us back outside and avoiding Mike's grin from the other end of the hallway.

"Thanks for the new hairstyle," I said. "It really fits my head, though, in my opinion."

Zoe, who had turned red, nodded and tightening her grip on my head. Before I could say something else, Erica walked out from her room, immediately turning her head to scan throughout the hallway.

Quickly letting go of my head, Zoe bustled back into her room, muttering something about forgetting to clean up the mess she'd left behind. "Your welcome," she shouted out from behind her shoulder, then slammed the door.

Erica narrowed her eyes at the closed door. "What were you doing? It looked like Zoe really didn't want me to see your held hands."

"Wait- you saw that?" I said. "Impossible! Zoe let go of my hand the second your door opened!"

Erica smiled. "I simply intuitively guessed that. Looks like I was right, Romeo."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't call me that. I don't even have a Juliet yet, so you can't say anything."

"Though he hopes for you playing the Juliet part!" Jawa jeered. 

"Don't we all?" Mike commented, looking at Erica's exasperated face. "Well, you have to admit- it's true."