She smelled Harry before she saw him but that was only because he was carrying two plates in his hand when he walked into the library. Stacked high with pancakes and surrounded by slices of crispy bacon, the smell alone was enticing enough to briefly pull her attention away from her book. She glanced up quickly to give him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the book sitting open on her bent legs. Hugo had the sort of writing where if she lost her place, she'd never get it back and she'd have to start all over again.
"Give me a mo'," she said, loud enough that Harry could hear her. She heard him reply back brightly but didn't quite process the words. He was too busy trying to keep Bertie, who had leapt from his place on the couch beside her at the sight of food, from eating any of the pancakes.
This had become a habit of theirs over the last week or so, since Harry had gotten back from the Bahamas. That tumultuous night ended with Harry sleeping restlessly sprawled over her stomach while she was cursed to stay awake. When he'd began to stir the next morning, she'd gently carded her fingers through his hair as he mumbled nonsense to himself.
"Hi," she said softly. "Sleep alright?"
He shuffled against her, frowning sleepily as he tried to remember where he was. Pushing up off of her stomach, he watched her curiously as the final bits of sleep fell off. She could see the exact moment he remembered the night before in the way his eyes flickered down and he pulled his lip between his teeth nervously. "Oh," was all he said before he rolled away, flopping down on his back beside her.
Piper ran her hand gently over his forehead before threading her fingers into his messy hair. "You doing okay?"
"Fine, I guess." He averted his eyes sheepishly as an uncharacteristic flush bloomed on his cheeks. "A little embarrassed if I'm being honest."
"Why?"
"Why?" Harry repeated incredulously. "Last night —"
"Last night, you were honest with me," Piper interrupted, her voice softening when she saw the apprehension clear in Harry's eyes. "You told me something very personal and trusted me with it. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she told him. "I'm very proud of you, Harry."
She leaned down to give him a tender kiss, her lips grazing his in the slightest of touches. He curled an arm around her and yanked her down on top of him so he could wrap both his arms across her shoulders. His lips touched down on her temple briefly and then he pushed her hair out of her face.
"You look knackered."
"I didn't really sleep much."
He frowned, his fingers running gently over the bags under her eyes. "Because of me?"
"No," she said a little too quickly. When Harry quirked a brow, looking sceptical, she sighed. "I just couldn't turn my brain off. You know how I get."
He hummed his agreement. "That I do. Why don't you have a lie in and I'll make us some breakfast?"
"You sure?"
"After what you did for me yesterday?" He leaned over to kiss her once more, this time sweet and slow in a way that made her toes curl. "It's the least I could do. Come meet me in the library when you're up."
The backroom where Harry had chosen to store her books had been renamed the library in the interim, mostly because Piper spent hours on end in there with her books. She'd mentioned to Zayn that she was struggling to find her own space in the house and the library had become that for her. It had become the place she escaped to when she needed a moment's peace and over the course of the last few weeks, she'd taken claim of it and really made it her own.
She hadn't seen it before but at the back of the room, under the loft of bookshelves, there was a little sunroom, small but entirely enclosed with glass that let the spring sun shine through brightly at most hours of the day. If she wasn't curled up on the couch with a book in her spare time, she was sitting at the little wooden table in the sunroom with her laptop, Bertie curled up in the dog bed at her side. It was at the table that she found Harry waiting a half hour later with plates of the eggy bread he'd made for her. It was Harry's way of saying thank you.
They'd been eating breakfast there together, just the two of them, ever since.
"What is so interesting that you won't put your book down for pancakes?"
Piper looked up when she felt the couch dip beside her. Sure enough, Harry was sitting at her side, looking relaxed in his joggers and t-shirt. His hair was a mess of curls around his face and she couldn't help herself from reaching up to tug one rebellious curl back behind his ear to keep it from escaping. Harry's toothy grin was a reward in and of itself and she curved her hand over his cheek, her thumb dipping into his dimple.
"Patience," she told him. "I'm almost done."
"Bring it with you then," Harry said as he took her by the elbow and attempted to drag her along as he rose to his feet. "I spent all that time cooking and I'm not letting it get cold just because you have no sense of self-control."
"Rude," Piper shot at him, noting the page number and then closing the book carefully, tucking it under her arm as she let Harry tow her around the sofa and toward the sunroom. Bertie, sneaky dog that he was, had crept on his belly almost all the way to the table, trying to seem sly. Two weeks in this house and he was already on his way to becoming a spy. "I can see you Bertie," she called out to the dog. "Step away from the table."
Bertie looked guiltily over his shoulder at Piper and then let out a long doggy sigh, trotting away to his bed by the window and flopping down onto it.
"This is nice," Piper said as they slipped into their chairs across from each other at the little wooden table. She set her book down carefully on the small space that wasn't holding their breakfast and by the time she looked up, Harry was smiling fondly at her. "What?"
"You say that every time."
"Well, it is nice," she justified, shrugging her shoulders. "I really like having breakfast together like this."
It was amazing how one sentence could make Harry perk up like nothing in the world could make him happier, his eyes brightening as he grinned madly, his dimples pressing into his cheeks. Piper flushed, embarrassed by his reaction for a reason she couldn't pin down. She distracted herself by picking up a strip of bacon off his plate and biting off one end. Before Harry could scold her for it (because he always did), she tossed the other half to Bertie who scampered out of his bed to get it.
They ate in comfortable silence for a bit because Piper couldn't do much else but enjoy Harry's amazing cooking and he seemed content to just watch her, sipping on his tea every so often. He finished eating long before she did (I'm a growing boy, Piper, I need my fuel) and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest. She looked up, swallowing her mouthful of pancakes before she asked, "did you want to talk about anything?"
"No, it's okay," he said with a shake of his head. It was one of the things that differed between her and Harry — she hated being left alone with her thoughts and would do anything to avoid it; he was content to just sit in silence and think of whatever came to mind."You can read your book if you like," he suggested, nodding toward it.
"Too dense to read while I'm eating," Piper said with a shake of her head, forking another mouthful of pancakes past her open lips.
"What is it?" Harry asked as he leaned forward, spinning the book around carefully so he could read the cover. His cheeks immediately dimpled with the force of his grin and his eyes gleamed brightly when he glanced up. "This is the book that Liam and I got you for Christmas."
"Les Miserables," Piper agreed. "One of my favourites."
He opened it up delicately, as if afraid he would break it, and smiled as he read over the sweet words written in the front cover. As he carefully began rifling through the pages, his brow drew together and his smile turned down into a confused pout. "But this is in French."
"Yes." Harry looked up unimpressed with Piper's deadpan and she laughed. "So what's the problem?"
"Since when do you speak French?"
"Dunno," Piper mumbled around another mouthful of pancakes. When Harry's eyes widened, bewildered, she shrugged. "Learned when I was a kid, I guess. My mum's fluent 'cause she's a history professor and she specializes in French history during the revolution —"
"Hang on," Harry said as he held up his hand, waving it in a slow down sort of motion. "Your mum's a professor?"
Piper nodded. "Why? Doesn't seem the type?"
"Frankly, no. Your mum's too fun to be a professor."
"Yeah, that's the general consensus. She's got a whole shelf full of awards for like, best professor and all that. Her classes were always full."
"Here's the real question — how the hell did your parents end up together when your dad hates French literature and your mum's a French scholar?"
"It was one of those hate to love sort of things," Piper told him, smiling fondly at the recollection. She remembered as a kid when she'd ask her dad how him and her mum met. Her mum always tried to sugarcoat it so it didn't scare her and Andrew but her dad was totally upfront. He told them how even when mum made him so angry he wanted to break everything around him, he was mostly angry because he liked her and he felt all conflicted. Andrew always rolled his eyes at the story; Piper was pretty sure it would have made an amazing rom-com.
"And your mum taught you French to make your dad angry?"
Piper laughed because it was actually something she could see her mum doing. There was one place that no one would ever want to be, and that was Sydney Stone's bad side. "No, she just thought it would come in handy someday. For the most part she was right. You'd be surprised how much you can do when you know a handful of languages."
"A handful?" Harry asked surprised. "What d'you mean a handful? You know more than just English and French?"
Piper hummed in agreement, counting them off on her fingers. "There's English, French, Italian, some Spanish but I took it in school so I'm basically shit at it, and then Portuguese, some Urdu — like, I could probably introduce myself and threaten someone in it — and then both Mandarin and Cantonese."
Harry's jaw had slackened and he looked absolutely stunned by this news. Piper was pretty sure that somewhere in her MI6 file, it listed all of the languages she spoke. Then again, Harry had claimed that he never snuck a peek at her official file so maybe he really hadn't know about her multilingualism at all. "That's eight languages," Harry said when he'd managed to regain his ability to speak, his eyes counting up the number of fingers she was holding up.
"I mean, technically it is, but it's really only five if you count the number of languages I'm fluent in." Harry's eyes widened so large that his pale green irises seemed to blend into the stark whites of his eyes. She chuckled, an amused grin crossing her face. "Is that really so unbelievable? You thought MI6 only liked me because I was a quick typer?"
"Come off it," Harry scolded, shaking his head. "I'm just... I'm just stunned. That's an incredible number of languages and not necessarily easy ones to learn." She tried not to feel smug about how Harry's face easily displayed the admiration he must have been feeling, but she couldn't quite help it when a proud smirk crept onto her face. He shook his head in disbelief. "Why in the world would you learn all of those languages?"
The smirk slid right off her face. She looked down at her empty plate nervously, twirling her fork on top so it made little clacking sounds every time the edge hit the porcelain. When she looked up, Harry had gone from admiring to suspicious, his eyes narrowed as he tried to read the answer from her. She bit her lip uncomfortably. "I feel like you're not going to like the answer."
Harry looked scandalized for a moment and then started laughing, his throaty chuckle sending shivers up her spine. "Now I have to know," he said, reaching over to give her arm a shake. "Tell me."
"I know those languages," Piper said sheepishly, her eyes trained on the table, "because those are the countries with the best hackers and when you do what I do — used to do — you want to speak the language so you know you aren't being played."
If she thought Harry had looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now. She was waiting for a reprimand or disapproval or scorn of some sort. Instead, Harry snorted a laugh. "Are you saying that you've done actual hacks before?"
Piper grinned cheekily, pressing her tongue to her cheek to stop herself from laughing at how giddy and awed Harry sounded. "Why do you think MI6 was so interested in me?"
Harry sat back, his eyes trained on something over her shoulder as he tried to think it all through. She watched a billion different thoughts run through his mind, his expression shifting in minute ways with each one, and then he looked up with a wide smirk. "I didn't realize I was dating a criminal," he said, his voice coloured by a raspy growl. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a mischievous grin stretching over his lips. "It's sort of sexy."
"You're not mad?" Piper asked warily, just in case a secondary reaction was waiting in the wings.
"No, of course not," Harry said immediately, his brow furrowing as if he was confused she would even ask. "It's in the past. We've all made our mistakes." Piper's eyes snapped down when he inadvertently began rubbing the rose tattoo near his elbow. When he caught her watching, he stopped, a flush dotting his cheeks. "Besides," he said as he cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension, "if I got mad at you for it, I'd have to be mad at Louis and Zayn for a couple of things."
"You're joking!" Piper could only assume that Harry was trying to imply that two — not one, two — members of One Direction had a criminal record lurking around somewhere. She was dying to know what for now.
"Said too much already, really." Harry mimed zipping his lips. "We'll keep that our little secret."
"You can't do that," Piper whined dramatically, flopping across the table so she could snatch up Harry's hands in hers and squeeze them tightly. He jokingly tried to yank them back but she held on tight. "You need to tell me."
"I don't need to do anything," Harry corrected as he leaned forward so their hands sat comfortably on the table between them, twined together. "But I would love to know how, at age 23, you've picked up eight languages."
Piper rolled her eyes at Harry's very obvious segue away from the conversation that she'd rather be having about Louis and Zayn's apparent mischievous endeavours. Knowing Harry wouldn't budge and that he had the fortitude to withstand any sort of pressure she put on him, she sighed and gave into his request.
"Languages are actually a lot like coding," she explained to Harry who was watching with rapt attention, a bright gleam in his eyes as he listened earnestly to her explanation. "Once you learn the components, the conventions and the syntax — once you have the tools, there's no limit to what you can create. Fluency is just practice, learning to make infinite combinations of basic components. Not too hard."
Harry scoffed. "I promise, petal, you're the only one who thinks it's that easy." He untangled one of his hands so he could lean forward and tap on the part of her forehead that wasn't still hidden under a bandage. "Only your brain could do what you've just described."
"Says the man who speaks — I'm sorry, how many languages do you know? Five? Six?"
"Seven," he corrected. "If you don't count English, that is."
"And one of them is Russian, arguably one of the hardest languages to learn," she pointed out. "So don't say that my brain is the only one for languages."
"Yes, but I had to learn all of my languages the hard way — rote memorization and endless practice. Six of those languages, I learned while I was in training at MI6. Let me tell you, learning to speak another language with your supervising agent breathing down your neck, testing you by yelling out commands and threats in other languages — it's not fun."
"Only six of them? Did you learn the other through osmosis?"
Harry made a stupid face to mock her, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes, and Piper couldn't help the wild laugh that bubbled out of her. Sometimes he was mature, suave Agent Styles — and sometimes he was two year old toddler Harry.
He pulled back his other hand, hiking up the sleeve of his t-shirt on his left arm. He tapped on the tattoo on the inside of his bicep, the shaded in heart that seemed so out of character compared to the rest of his collection. "This was my first tattoo," he explained. "Got it when my first uni girlfriend broke my heart. Nataliya, an international student from Petersburg. I made myself learn Russian to try and impress her."
"Well, well, Mr. Charming," Piper joked, snorting a laugh at Harry's completely unimpressed scowl.
"I'll have you know I was very charming. I used to quote all these beautiful romantic Russian poets to her. She thought it was cute at first but eventually she dumped me because I began to understand her phone conversations with her other boyfriend back in Russia."
"Aw, Harry," Piper cooed sympathetically. Harry just shrugged, his eyes blinking closed as he pressed his cheek to his shoulder. When they settled on her once more, they had a mischievous glint and paired with his cheeky smirk, Piper had to press her palms flat to the table to keep from reaching for him.
"Felt like shit when it happened," he admitted. "I reckon I spent weeks moping, wouldn't come out of my room except for class so Liam dragged me out to the pub and we got completely smashed and that's when I got this." He pointed to the tattoo once more. "But it wasn't all bad. Because of her, I started researching the Cold War for my senior thesis so I basically owe this entire lifestyle to her. I lost her — hence, the tattoo — but I gained a lot by doing it."
Piper's cheeks turned up into a little smile as she watched Harry roll the sleeve of his shirt back down over the tattoo. After explaining the butterfly to her, he'd been showing her different ones bit by bit and describing the reasons why he got them. Obviously, after the pain of talking about Lucy and the butterfly, he picked easier ones — the A and the G for his mum and sister; the brasil! tattoo because I was in Brazil and I'd almost died and I'd had too much to drink so I figured why not.
She was sure that there were going to be more difficult stories. She'd noticed him purposefully avoiding the ship and the rose, the swallows and the mermaid. In time, Harry would tell her. And if he didn't, that was okay too. Sometimes things needed to stay in the past or they had the power to destroy a person's present. The logistics of it didn't matter.
The only thing that mattered to Piper was that Harry had been freely offering the stories. She hadn't had to ask for another one because he was the one who brought them up, often unprompted. He wanted to share with her. In her eyes, that was all that mattered.
"I've just had an idea," he said quietly after a long pause had stretched out between them, Piper having been distracted sneaking Bertie pieces of leftover bacon. She looked up hurriedly, wondering if she'd been caught, but Harry was looking out the window, frowning as he puzzled something through.
"That's never good," she joked, hoping to wipe the frown from his face.
"Hey now, be nice," he scolded, wagging his finger at her. "No, I was thinking about that list of languages. You said you know Italian?"
"Sì, parlo italiano molto bene," she responded, giving Harry an exaggerated wink that made him chuckle.
"Fluent, would you say?"
Curious as to where Harry was taking this, Piper warily nodded. "I mean, I wouldn't sound like a native speaker but I can speak and understand it very well."
The smile that spread over Harry's face, dimpling those perfect cheeks of his, made her nervous for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Petal, I have a proposition for you."
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Sorry, can I ask another question?"
The junior O branch agent sitting across the table from her let out a heaving sigh. Jeffrey Kent — he'd never really taken a shine to her while she'd been training up in O branch and he wasn't happy with her now either. She didn't think it was her fault that Kent's directions were completely incomprehensible but Kent seemed assured that she was an absolute moron and it was the only feasible reason she could have questions. Twat.
"I don't know why this is so difficult for you Stone," Kent sighed, crossing his arms in a huff. Piper scowled at him, fidgeting with the stack of papers in front of her that detailed the case. It was all written in jargon she wasn't used to yet and she could barely wade through the first page. "I've been told that you've been on a field mission before."
I've been told — could he have been any more of a pretentious arsehole? Piper wished she could reach across and give him a hard pinch but she was trying this thing where she acted like a grown-up and didn't descend to infantile anarchy when people didn't act the way she wanted them too.
"Listen, Kent, I'm sorry if this is frustrating you," she said, forcing on the most phony smile she'd ever worn and hoping it did some good. "But this is my first time going on a field mission abroad and I want to do the best job I can. I don't know about these different techniques described in the file so —"
"Because you're not field trained," Kent interrupted, sneering over at her from across the small table. "And maybe I'm just crazy but I must be the only one who thinks its irresponsible to send someone who isn't field trained into the bloody field."
Kent probably would have sounded like he was concerned if he wasn't looking at her like she was a piece of scum, a jealous flicker in his eyes. Piper wasn't all that surprised. She'd met quite a few people in O branch who were lovely and welcoming but she'd met an equal number who didn't like her quick rise in the department nor her sponsorship for field training by Liam, arguably one of the best agents in the building. Piper had tried not to step on any toes during her training but it seemed that she'd inadvertently stomped her way to her current position.
"I would really appreciate it if you'd help me with this, Kent," Piper said, trying her best to be patient. There was no use arguing with him, not if she wanted him to give her a hand with all this. She was hoping diplomacy would win her some leeway.
Instead, he nodded stiffly toward the file. "It's all in there, Stone. Have at it."
She let out a long breath, trying her very best to stay calm and not let her nerves make her lash out at Kent.
When Harry had said he had a proposal for her, she hadn't been expecting him to suggest that she join him on an overseas mission in Italy. Sure, her knowledge of Italian would probably be an asset but she'd only barely managed to get herself out of the last mission with everything intact — except for the dress — and she wasn't sure she was ready to do a proper field mission, away from the comforts of home. Of course, she hadn't figured out a way to tell Harry that because he just seemed so keen on the idea. He'd told her at the end of their mission earlier in the week that he was proud of her and that he thought she'd make a good agent. She didn't want to let him down now by chickening out.
It didn't make it any less terrifying, the idea of being Harry's back-up in another country where they didn't have a flood of MI5 agents waiting in the wings to back them up if something went wrong. It would be just him and her. The only people watching out for them were each other. The weight of that responsibility was suffocating. Piper still had a habit of tumbling over her own feet during sparring — she wasn't sure she could handle having the responsibility of another person when she couldn't even manage herself.
It was with a shaking hand that she began flipping through the pages of the file. There were details about people she'd never heard of before, schematics of cities she'd never seen, and op instructions that were unfamiliar. She could feel that small ripple of panic banging around inside her, working itself up into a full tsunami of anxiety and fear. She swallowed hard, trying to resist the urge to stick her head between her knees.
She jumped when the door clicked open, whipping her head around to see who else was joining this awful meeting. She smiled gratefully when she saw who stepped through the door.
"Zayn. Hi."
"Hey babe," Zayn greeted warmly, smiling broadly at her. "How're you doing?"
"Um, I'm —"
"What are you doing here Malik?" Kent snapped from where he'd been leaning on the opposite wall. His whole body had tensed and his face was turning so red he looked like an overripe tomato. "This is my briefing."
"And this is my intel so why don't you calm down, Kent," Zayn said sternly, his expression darkening into a threatening stare that immediately made Kent submit, his shoulders sinking down as his eyes widened in fright.
"But, um, I was doing the briefing."
Zayn rolled his eyes like it was physically taxing to be in Kent's presence. "Yeah, and it looks like you were doing a bang up job of it," he said sarcastically as he glanced over at where Piper was sitting, file opened haphazardly in front of her and her hands tucked between her knees to keep them from shaking. "Listen, I know the mission and I know Piper. If you don't mind, I'm going to go ahead and take over the briefing."
He said it in a way that invited no protestations and Kent could only gape at Zayn as he crossed the room and circled around the table, sitting opposite Piper. Zayn's warm grin was in total opposition to the low and lethal tone he'd just been using with Kent and it was sort of jarring. It was a little unsettling how easily Zayn could switch personas like that but then again, he was sort of a master at it. It was how he did his job so well.
"What am I supposed to do?" Kent asked.
"I don't really care," Zayn said with a shrug, not even bothering to look back at him. "Leave. Stay. It's not like it really matters."
Kent looked like he'd been punched right in the stomach. Maybe she should have felt bad about the way that Zayn was easily knocking out Kent's self-esteem but Kent had been doing the exact same thing to her five minutes ago so she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead, she watched as Kent crossed to the door, flinging it open so he could storm out. Zayn watched him leave with mild interest and then turned his attention back to her when the door to the debriefing room clicked shut behind him.
"Alright, let's get down to business here," Zayn said once Kent was gone. He flipped to the front of the file so it was back on page one and then he pressed his palm down on it. "Any questions?"
"One," Piper said warily, her voice quieter than she would have liked. Zayn's expression immediately shifted from one of focused concentration to one coloured with concern, his brow drawing together as his dark eyes studied her carefully. Piper cleared her throat, her eyes dropping to the desk. "Do you really want me to go on a field mission? Like, a real one?"
She looked up when Zayn's hand reached across, covering the hand that she had pressed flat to the table top. His head tilted to the side, his gaze softening. "You'll do fine, Piper. Besides, you had a field mission just last Wednesday —"
"And look what I have to show for it. A nice big lump on my head and a sprained wrist." She waved around the arm that was still wrapped up and then sort of deflated, falling back against her seat. "Zayn, I'm not ready for this. I'm going to screw everything up."
She felt that same tightening in her stomach, the one she hadn't felt in a long time but that she was starting to get used to all over again. That one that said you're not good enough and you never will be. She grimaced, pressing her hand to her stomach and wishing it would just go away.
"Piper, you're not going to screw up," Zayn said firmly. He seemed to have complete faith in her abilities. At least one of them did. "You did brilliantly on Wednesday and I think you're ready to do something bigger."
"It's just —" She wasn't sure how to articulate it. She couldn't put into words this feeling of dread that was filling every corner of her body, weighing her down and making her second guess everything. Instead, she let her voice drop off, her eyes dropping to the table once more.
"Piper, remember when Liam first suggested field training and Harry pretty much lost his mind because the idea of you going into the field made him so scared that he didn't even want to think about it?" She nodded. "Well, think of it like this," Zayn told her. "Harry, the one who didn't want you to ever go on a field mission, is the one who wants you to do it most of all. He's got so much confidence in your abilities that he's not even wary of you going out into the field anymore. I think that says a lot."
It certainly did and Piper had never actually thought of it like that. She remembered with absolute clarity that first day that Liam had tried field training with her — mostly she remembered the look on Liam's face when Harry shoved him into the pool. But she also remembered the way that Harry's whole body had been tense at just the idea of her being in the field. She remembered how his anger had been practically explosive when Liam challenged him about it. And now, he was volunteering her to join him on a mission. It was sort of staggering, thinking of how much Harry had changed over the last two months, of how his confidence in her had grown, and in how much he trusted her now compared to then.
"Feeling a bit better about the idea now?" Zayn asked. Piper looked up, forcing the best smile she could onto her face. She could tell it was only half of what it could be based on the way Zayn scrunched up his nose but it was better than nothing. "We'll work on that later. How about we talk about the mission and then maybe you'll start to warm to the idea of it."
It couldn't hurt so Piper nodded, pulling her chair in closer to the table so she could see the files properly as Zayn began sifting through them. He stopped on a page that had a picture of a gentleman in the top corner. Piper tried to scan his features to see if she recognized him but nothing popped out at her. He just looked like any other polished fifty-something man with more money than he knew what to do with.
"A very interesting meeting took place back on the 4th between this man and an affiliate of Shoreditch. They exchanged documents that would have allowed an entire shipment of weapons to be brought through UK customs without question. Luckily we were able to intercept the shipment because we'd been surveilling the meeting —" Zayn smirked proudly, pointing across the table at her "— because of your intel."
Piper's eyes widened and she pointed at herself as if it needed clarifying. "My intel?"
"It might not have been a smart decision eavesdropping on that meeting Clive had at his flat," Zayn pointed out, "but it was pretty damn useful."
She'd nearly forgotten all about that. When she thought about that day, all she could think about was the terrible fight her and Harry had by the edge of the Thames. She often forgot the part where she'd hovered outside of Clive's door, frantically writing down any word that she could overhear before sending it off to Zayn. She hadn't heard a thing about it since and figured that Zayn had investigated the lead and had come up with nothing. Instead, he'd been working behind the scenes and she'd managed to help prevent a weapons shipment from coming into the UK.
She wasn't embarrassed by the proud grin that crossed her face. She'd earned that much.
"This is Enzo Petrucelli," Zayn explained as he tapped the photo. "He's the infamous international arms dealer who we think —"
"Hold on," Piper interrupted. "Did you say Petrucelli? That was a real name?"
"Very real," Zayn told her with a chuckle. "Actually, he's on pretty much every intelligence service radar. He's the best arms dealer in the business and he's managed to avoid being caught doing anything illegal up to this point. For some reason though, he's getting personally involved with whatever Shoreditch has going on. He attended the meeting in Monaco himself to pass over these documents. Whatever is going on is big time."
"So how do Harry and I fit into all this?" Piper asked.
"We've been keeping an eye on Petrucelli," Zayn explained as he flipped through surveillance photos, "and it looks like he's been meeting with a friend of ours."
Piper couldn't help the breath she sucked in when the person accompanying Petrucelli in the photos turned to look back at something behind them. She'd recognize that slick brown hair that receded from his forehead, the scruff on his chin, and the sunglasses anywhere she saw them. "Holy shit," she exclaimed as she sorted through the photos herself, "Clive's been meeting with Petrucelli directly?"
"Like I said — big time. They've been spotted all over France, meeting at different warehouse locations. Obviously Clive's having something shipped in that's really important. We suspect it's weapons." Zayn covered the file a moment so he had Piper's full attention. She sat back, watching him carefully. "I don't mean to make you more nervous but it is absolutely essential that whatever is being shipped does not make it into the UK."
Piper nodded affirmatively, licking her lips nervously. The gravity of Zayn's tone made all of these feel ten times more real. Swallowing hard, she asked, "So what's the mission?"
"There's a meeting taking place tomorrow afternoon. Petrucelli is going to be there, discussing a drop with someone working for Shoreditch. We need someone there, listening in on the conversation to determine when the drop will be taking place and that, my dear, will be you."
"Right," Piper said, letting out a quick huff. This was starting to feel very real and she could feel her nerves coming back, making her feel jittery and unsettled. She tried to focus and not think about it. "And I assume that once the drop location is discovered, Harry and I are going to be intercepting it and getting those documents."
"Got it in one." Zayn closed the file in front of him and folded his hands over it as he studied her carefully. "Now that you know a bit about it, how're you feeling about the whole thing?"
Piper considered it for a moment, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. "Still a little nervous but not so, um, petrified." Zayn smiled at that and Piper reflected it back, snorting a laugh. "It actually sounds a little too easy. I don't have to fight anybody? Nobody's going to try to shoot me?"
"There will be little or no shooting involved," Zayn said confidently. "If all goes to plan, you're going to sit in a cafe and drink good Italian coffee, and then you're going to have dinner at a nice restaurant, and then you're going to come home. You might have to do some sneaking around and eavesdropping in between but you do that so often anyway —"
"Hey!" Piper snapped indignantly. "I do not sneak around."
"I'm hearing no denial about the eavesdropping accusation." Piper shrugged, feigning innocence in the matter. Zayn rolled his eyes, giving his head a shake. "Basically, this assignment is right up your alley. We really do need someone who's comfortable with Italian, and who's comfortable working with Harry. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but he has a tendency to be a bit controlling."
Piper tilted her head back and laughed brightly. "A bit? That's rich."
Zayn gave her that sideways grin he had, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he slid the file toward her. She knew what he was asking — was she taking the mission? She sat up straighter, puffing her shoulders up confidently, and then plucked the file up off the table. It was her agreement and Zayn seemed to relax, knowing she'd accepted. She assumed that if she'd said no, Zayn would have been the one scrambling for a replacement agent.
"So here's what you need to know. You and Harry will be flying into the airport outside of Trieste on the last flight tonight and you have a reservation at a hotel in the city under the name Giulia Bianchi —" Zayn went on, covering details that he claimed Harry would know anyway but Piper's brain had caught onto flying and wouldn't let it go. She could already feel the drop in her stomach that she knew too well. She hated flying and she was terrible at it. She already felt bad for Harry for having to put up with her on a plane — she had a feeling this wasn't going to turn out well.
"We have a contact in Italy who can give you all the supplies and weapons you need," Zayn was saying, not having noticed Piper's lapse in attention. She gulped hard and then tried to stay focused. "You won't have a car while you're over there but everything is walking distance —"
Zayn was cut off when there was a knock at the door. Piper swivelled her head around just in time to see a head poke through as the door opened. The first thing she noticed was the woman's bright white hair and bright red lipstick and it startled Piper so much that all she could do was stare. She was accustomed to the female agents who populated the building, focused solely on who could look more professional than the others as if that was some indicator to their capabilities. She'd received the scorn of those women countless times because of her propensity for baggy jumpers and wearing Harry's dress shirts tucked into her pencil skirts.
This woman was on the entirely opposite end of the spectrum. She was wearing a pair of tight slacks, a loose t-shirt and a cute blazer over top. Piper could see tattoos on her hands and arms peeking out from under her sleeves. Despite that, her shock of hair was pulled back into a trendy twist and her makeup was stunning. She was the antithesis to the SIS and somehow the most convincing person Piper had seen in this building. She had a sweet look to her but underlying it was an air of authority, like she could smack you down if she wanted.
"Hope I'm not interrupting," she cut in as she shut the door behind her. Piper noticed for the first time that she was lugging a big case with her. She hoped it wasn't going to involve anything painful.
"Hey, Lou, where'd you get to?" Zayn greeted, waving the woman into the room. "I thought you were right behind me."
"I stopped in with Harry first," she explained as she hefted the big case onto the table, letting it drop to the surface with a bang loud enough to make Piper jump. Of course, Piper's brain had latched onto Harry's name because she hadn't seen or heard of him since they'd been separated into their two briefing rooms upon arriving. "I gave that shaggy mess on his head a trim."
Piper gasped inadvertently, drawing both Zayn's and Lou's attention. "Not too much though, right?"
Lou grinned, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh out loud. "Ah," she said wisely, a glint of recognition in her eyes, "you must be Piper. Harry warned me that if I went too short, you'd find a way to slit my throat in my sleep."
Piper spluttered for something to say, trying to find a way to deny the accusation despite the fact that it was exactly the sort of threat she'd make if someone came at Harry's gorgeous curls. She was very attached to those curls.
Zayn only had to go and make it worse. He let out a loud laugh that filled the room and then leaned back in his chair with a grin. "Sounds like our Pips for sure."
"Excuse you," Piper shot at him before losing her nerve and grimacing sheepishly at Lou. "I swear he was only joking. I — I wouldn't —"
"Relax, babe," Lou said warmly, in a motherly sort of way that immediately put Piper at ease. "He was just being a little shit, like usual. Didn't help that he spent the entire time I was cutting his hair talking about you." Piper couldn't help her bashful grin and though she angled her face down toward the table, she caught sight of the look that Lou exchanged with Zayn, making him roll his eyes. "You really are quite beautiful. He wasn't lying about that."
"Yeah, yeah, she's lovely," Zayn interrupted before Piper's blush could darken enough to rival her hair. "But we are on a schedule here."
"Alright, keep your pants on," Lou said defensively as she held up a hand to Zayn. Piper was a little shocked, never having seen anyone shut Zayn down with such ease. She snickered which earned her a dirty look from Zayn. "Zayn's got a point, babe," Lou said as she rounded on Piper, eyeing her from the top of her head down to her toes jammed into her uncomfortable heels. "We have a lot of work to do."
"Introductions are probably in order first. Piper," Zayn said as he pointed toward Lou, "this is Lou Teasdale. She's the MI6 disguise master." Lou did a little bow for show. "Lou, this is Piper Stone, expert hacker and One Direction protégé."
"Disguise master," Piper repeated back, very intrigued by the concept. That preconception she'd had of Lou being the real deal was only strengthened by the fact that she held a position that was literally called disguise master. She felt like she'd been transported into an espionage film. She didn't think people like Lou actually existed at MI6 but maybe all those agents that Piper had thought were just the stuff of spy novels actually did work within the organization and she just hadn't had a chance to work with them yet.
Judging by the extent of the tools that Lou had in that big case of hers, she was very good at her job. "I've just always had a healthy appreciation for playing dress up," Lou said with a sly little wink as she pulled two hair-pins out of her big case and used them to push the hair back from Piper's face. Piper was a little taken aback with the way Lou just went ahead with whatever she had planned without consulting Piper, so much so that she didn't fight as Lou began touching her face, pushing against the skin of her forehead.
"Um, don't mean to interrupt," Piper said, giving Zayn a wary sideways glance and receiving only a shrug in return, "but, uh, what are you doing?"
"Trying to find a way to make this nasty cut disappear. Too memorable," she muttered as she narrowed her eyes at it, as if that would make it go away. "This looks brutal. How did you manage to get it?"
"A crazy woman slammed my head into the stairs."
"Hmm, right, well that would do the trick." It always astounded Piper how people who worked with field agents were rarely if ever surprised by what ended up happening while they were doing their job. Lou shrugged as if what Piper had described was commonplace, an every day occurrence. She sure hoped not — having your head slammed into the stairs was not a fun ordeal.
"Shouldn't be too hard to cover up," Lou mused as she shifted through her supply kit, coming out with a package of something that looked vaguely like skin. Piper crinkled her nose at the sight of it, her stomach flipping as a shiver ran up her spine. It looked like something out of a horror film and she had a good feeling it was going on her face. "This should last you the whole trip and when you're home, just dab some makeup remover around the edges and it'll peel right off. If you're taking makeup off while you're away, use soap and water please or this'll be coming off too."
Piper nodded, trying to compartmentalize all of that information into her brain so she wouldn't forget it. In the meantime, Lou had extracted the weird piece of material and was cutting it to shape with a little pair of scissors. "I've packed some makeup in with your luggage and Caroline set up all the clothes you'll need so you don't stand out too much on the coast."
"Caroline?" Piper questioned, trying to distract herself as Lou pressed the weird skin-like thing to her face, the skin around her cut feeling all squishy and gross. She stuck her tongue out distastefully and looked to Zayn for answers.
"She's in charge of wardrobe," he told her. "Sort of a genius when it comes to blending in. She'll have set you up well."
"Although I'm not sure how happy she is with you after you sent back that dress with the tear up the leg," Lou mumbled around the brush she'd stuck in her mouth, both hands being used up to stick the skin on. When she was satisfied, she picked up a palette from in her kit and fluffed the brush over it before smoothing makeup over the creases on Piper's forehead. "Don't be surprised if you open your suitcase and it's all ill-fitting clothes from ASDA and she hasn't packed you any pants."
Piper chuckled but her face fell when no one laughed with her. "You're joking right?" she asked Lou who only shrugged, focused on her work. Piper shot her eyes over to Zayn who was watching the proceedings leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. "She's just joking, isn't she?"
"Don't worry, Piper," he said, instead of giving her a straight answer. "Everything's going to work out."
"The hair's going to have to go though."
"What!" Piper's hands flew up to protectively cover her long red locks. No way was anyone touching her hair without a fight.
Lou laughed, shaking her head. "No, sorry, I meant the colour. The red is too easy to remember. I have some hair dye for you." She rummaged in her case and pulled out a bottle that looked too dark for Piper's liking. She must have been making a weird face because Lou smiled sympathetically. "Not to worry. It'll come out with two washes or so. You can take it with you and apply it once you're in the hotel."
Piper nodded warily, accepting the bottle of hair dye and clutching it in her hands like a lifeline. Lou removed the pins from her hair and then fluffed out Piper's bangs so they fell properly in front of her forehead. She leaned back, hands on her hips, and admired what she'd done. "I do good work, Zayn, my darling," she told him before beginning to gather her things. "Your girl is ready to go."
"Alright then." Zayn rose languidly to his feet and, as he crossed behind Lou, leaned over to press an innocent kiss to her cheek. Lou snorted a laugh and swatted at him as he passed by her. "We've got to get going, Piper," Zayn said as he nodded toward the door. Piper scrambled to grab the file and her hair day before rising to her feet, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. Zayn was quick to shoot out a steadying hand and Piper grimaced apologetically. "You've got everything?"
"Everything except my sanity."
"Good luck, babe," Lou called over her shoulder as she packed up. Piper gave her a half-hearted wave in return. She was going to need all the luck she could get.
"We've got to run," Zayn said as he checked his watch, "or we're going to be late for your flight. Harry should be at the airport by now sorting out the tickets and hopefully we'll be there just in time for you to get to the gate before the flight leaves."
Piper's stomach dropped again at the mention of flying and she almost lost her grip on all the things in her hands. She scrambled to catch the bottle of dye before it went sailing to the floor. Zayn must have noticed how flustered she was because he stopped her just outside the door of the briefing room, letting it shut so Lou couldn't hear their conversation.
"Piper, are you sure you're alright?"
She chewed nervously on her lip for a moment before nodding. It must have been pretty pathetic because Zayn tilted his head in that sympathetic sort of way people did when they heard someone's grandmother had died or that someone's dog had been hit by a car. Except this time Piper was the train wreck.
"It just... it all seems sort of real now," she admitted nervously. "I mean, I've got a case file and I've got to dye my hair and there's this weird plastic skin stuff on my forehead —"
"Piper," Zayn interrupted, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he dipped his head down to her level. "Listen to me, okay? You're ready for this. You're going to do just fine. There is nothing to be worried about."
She nodded, letting out a long breath as she looked sideways at the wall. She was trying her best not to get overwhelmed so she focused on Zayn's hands on her arms, anchoring her in place and helping her fight her way through this maelstrom of anxiety and insecurity. "Yeah, okay," she said with a nod. "You're right."
"And even if you do slip up a bit, Harry is there with you. And you know he'd never let anything happen to you."
That was definitely true and if there was one thing that was keeping Piper from losing her mind entirely at just the thought of going on a proper field mission, it was the fact that Harry was going to be right there by her side. He'd had her back during the mission earlier in the week without a second's hesitation and while she'd gotten scraped up, there was a good chance she'd be dead if it weren't for Harry's quick thinking and resourcefulness. She had no doubt that he would be the best backup possible on this mission too.
"Zayn," Piper said, swallowing hard, "I'm really scared."
He gave her a kind smile, his hands tightening on her shoulder supportively. "That's okay. All of us get scared before missions."
"You do?"
"'Course we do. That's a just a part of the process. But I bet that once you're in the thick of it, you're going to find that it's really exhilarating being out there, right in the middle of the action."
"I'm not Harry. I don't thrive on adrenaline like this. I feel perfectly alive sitting at my computer in my pyjamas."
Zayn chuckled, letting his hands drift down so he was rubbing her arms gently to try and calm her down a bit. "What's the reason you joined MI6?" Zayn asked, quirking his brow at her when she looked up sceptically. "Because I'd bet anything that it wasn't so you could sit in front of a computer all day. You've wanted this action and excitement from the start, I know it. And sure, it's a bit scary now but you can do it Piper, I promise."
She let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"
"I know so. You're going to do brilliantly and by the time you get back, you'll wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place and you'll be begging to go on field missions once a week. You have the skills, babe, you just need a chance to hone them."
"You know," Piper said with a little smile, "if this job doesn't pan out, you could always go into the business of being a motivational speaker."
Zayn laughed, dropping his hands from her shoulders and instead swinging an arm loosely across the backs of them so he could steer her down the hall toward the lifts. "That's the sarcastic Piper Stone I recognize," he said as he poked her in the side, making her jerk sideways. "See, there's no point in being nervous. When you're nervous, you miss all the fun."
She thought of all the things she had to look forward to over the next couple of days — a plane ride that was surely going to push her to the brinks of her sanity; a solo field mission in another city that she didn't know where she was going to have to speak another language; a covert mission to intercept documents that could protect thousands of people from harm or conversely put thousands in danger. Not exactly what she'd call fun but then again, she'd had worse.
Sure, it seemed scary but she'd survived a lot worse than this over the last couple of months. She'd been harassed and then shot by said harasser. She'd learned that she lived below the head of a crime syndicate and was subsequently forced out of her flat when he set it on fire. She'd been microchipped and tailed and she'd had to have fucking dental surgery. If she could get through all of that without packing up and moving into witness protection, she could handle a surveillance mission.
"I've got this," she said aloud as they were stepping into the lift. Zayn leaned forward to press the button for the garage and then glanced over, an amused glint in his eyes.
"You've got this," he echoed back to her. She nodded, staring straight ahead at her reflection in the metal doors of the lift.
She could do this. Deep down, she knew it. And if she had to keep reminding herself to get through it, then so be it. She was resourceful, she was strong, and she was a survivor. She'd tackled everything that life had thrown her and she'd come out the victor. If she could do that, then she could sure as hell do this.
She was Agent Piper Stone. And by the end of this trip, that was going to mean something more than just words.
By the end of this mission, she was going to be a proper Agent.