Snapping necks and chasing checks is what I do."
The bar was loud and dark, a combination that set Harry on edge almost immediately. He'd just spent a week undercover at a nightclub in LA waiting for a sighting of a rogue agent who'd been spotted there a few times earlier in the month. He'd had enough of loud music, shadowy booths and the smell of spilt beer to last a lifetime.
He craned his head around, scanning the bar for a familiar head of bright red hair and finally catching sight of Piper sitting at the far end of the bar. He slipped around a crowd of uni kids, heading straight in that direction, a smile already creeping onto his face.
"You know," he could hear his girlfriend saying, her voice unmistakable even over the loud music, "the spy life is not as glamorous as it seems. 'S'a lot of paperwork. The guns are cool though."
Harry stopped in his tracks, letting out a heavy sigh. Piper was drunk. Not exactly what he was expecting to come home to after a week away.
Harry decided he was going to kill Niall – not only for leaving Piper to get drunk on her own in a seedy bar down the street from Vauxhall Cross but for not giving him at least a little bit of warning when he texted Harry right after he landed at Heathrow to come and pick Piper up, claiming he had an emergency at work. Although, Niall had said she was only tipsy when he left. It seemed Piper had to shoulder some of the blame for her inebriation and her subsequent loose lips.
Which only seemed to be getting worse. She was leaning across the bar now, getting right up in the bartender's face as he watched her with a mix of amusement and annoyance.
"I've killed a man before in cold blood," she was saying, narrowing her eyes at the bartender threateningly. Harry rolled his eyes because that was not true. One Direction were classed as black ops agents, not assassins (at least, not often). If Piper had killed anyone it was purely by accident. "Snapping necks and cashing checks is what I do."
The bartender quirked a brow at Piper when she reached into her wallet to look for her SIS ID and Harry determined that he needed to get involved quickly before this turned from funny to potentially career-ending.
He stepped up behind Piper, touching her shoulder gently to catch her attention. She had her elbows propped on the bar, standing with her toes on the rung of her stool so she was practically hanging over the bar, but she craned her head around at the tap on her shoulder. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pouted, but her face lit up almost immediately when she saw it was Harry standing behind her and she practically flung herself at him. He had to hurry to catch her as her barstool wobbled beneath her, his arms wrapping around her waist to steady her as he lowered her back into her seat.
"You're here!" she cried excitedly as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close so she could press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "I missed you."
"Missed you too," Harry murmured into Piper's ear, dotting a kiss down onto her temple before pulling back and levelling her with a reproachful look. "Now what kind of trouble have you been getting up to while I've been gone?"
A sneaky smile flicked across her face but was quickly replaced with a scowl as she snapped her head in the direction of the bartender. "Harry, this man doesn't believe that I'm a spy. You need to tell him."
Harry smiled sheepishly at the bartender, who just shrugged as if this wasn't the strangest thing he'd heard before. He must've gotten some pretty interesting characters in the bar if Piper wasn't winning a prize for her performance tonight.
The bartender nodded toward Piper who was frowning down at Harry's shirt, playing with the top buttons like she was tempted to undo them right there in the bar. "Is she yours?" he asked.
Piper bristled almost immediately, letting out a frustrated huff. "I am no man's," she said vehemently as she jabbed an admonishing finger at the bartender. "I am my own woman and I belong only to myself."
The bartender's eyes widened at the force behind Piper's voice and the practically murderous look in her eyes. He looked like he was more inclined to believe her about her killing people for a living now, judging by the way he was slowly backing up.
"Alright, I think he gets it petal," Harry jumped in, grasping Piper by the elbows and dragging her off the barstool while she kept her icy stare steady on the bartender, practically snarling at him. "Now I think it's time we go home."
Piper went reluctantly, muttering about how the bartender was probably a double agent and that they should tie him up and ask him. Harry could tell he had a fun night ahead of him.
"You know, you should be a little less handsy," Piper told him when they were halfway out of the bar even though she was the one hanging off of him, her arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. "My boyfriend wouldn't like it."
"Oh Jesus Christ," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and praying for patience.
"He could beat you to a pulp," she said, popping the p right in his ear. "I bet he could kill you with just his thumb. Actually, he sort of looks like you." She tilted her head, squinting up at him as her lips pursed into a judgemental scowl. "Are you his evil twin?"
"Okay," Harry grunted as he was forced to bend down, sticking his shoulder under Piper's arm before she sagged right to the ground, "that's the last time you're allowed to drink tequila unsupervised."
"You smell very nice," Piper informed him as Harry dragged her back up, plucking her arm up and draping it over his shoulders. She leaned in close and stuck her face in his neck, breathing in deep. "You're Harry," she said quite confidently, smiling up at him.
"I am."
Her whole face softened and she let out a contented sigh, leaning against him. "I love you."
Harry chuckled as he tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to Piper's warm forehead that made her giggle. "Love you too, petal. But you smell like tequila and I'm pretty sure you're about to pass out on me so let's get you to the car."
He'd been right about that; they didn't even get halfway to the car before Piper's eyes started to droop, her feet stumbling beneath her. She nearly ended up right on the ground when she tripped over her own feet and Harry gave up on letting her walk, hauling her up and over his shoulder instead. She let out a whine and tried to protest but gave up quickly, hanging limply within a minute or so.
"I know how to use a gun," she murmured into the small of his back.
"I know you do, petal."
"I'm a real spy."
"Yes, you are."
"I don't really like tequila," she groaned. "Makes everything all fuzzy and spinny."
"Are you going to throw up?" Harry asked because he knew Piper well enough by now and he'd held her hair back too many times to be fooled.
"No," Piper insisted, her voice outraged as if the mere question offended her. Harry just rolled his eyes, hoping they made it back to the car before she was tempted to puke right down his back.
Sure enough, the moment he set her down beside the Aston Martin, Piper leaned over and emptied her stomach with a cough. Harry rubbed her back gently as she choked up the last bits, passing her a tissue from his glove compartment so she could wipe her mouth with it. He'd picked up a tea on the way from the airport and he offered it to Piper once he'd helped to belt her into the passenger seat. She gave him a sheepish grimace and accepted the lukewarm cup.
She was sick again when they got back to HQ except she'd shifted into the stage of tequila drunk where she got a bit weepy and she kept apologizing to Harry in between bouts with her head in the toilet. He just sat beside her, murmuring words of encouragement as he rubbed between her shoulder blades. When Piper fell asleep against the toilet, Harry cleaned her up and stripped her down, carrying her back into the bedroom to tuck her under the covers. He made a point of closing the drapes before he crawled in beside her, knowing that tomorrow morning was going to be a rough one if Piper woke up with the sun.
She may have smelled like booze still, her makeup smudged on her face and her hair tussled up so it fell in her eyes, but it still felt so good to get into bed beside Piper, to lie back and feel her instinctively roll toward him and sprawl across him. Harry tucked his shoulder under her neck to prop her head on his chest, his arm curving down her back so his hand was pressed possessively to the small of her back. When Piper sighed contentedly in her sleep, Harry did the same. With the love of his life curled against him, he fell asleep easier than he had all week.
He woke the next morning to Piper shuffling around, a pained groan slipping from between her lips as she tucked her face into Harry's shoulder. He rubbed her back gently as he came awake, smiling gently at her when she looked up blearily.
"Fuck," she muttered to herself as she smacked her lips, cringing at the taste in her mouth, "did I drink last night?"
"You did indeed," Harry told her, his cheeks dimpling under his amused grin. She just groaned again, pressing her face into his tshirt.
"Did I tell the bartender I snap necks for a living?"
"Yep, you did that too."
"Oh fuck me," she moaned. She tilted her head up, grimacing apologetically as she smoothed her hand over Harry's abdomen gently. "I'm so sorry. I bet the last thing you wanted after a mission was dealing with my sorry drunk arse."
Harry reached across to let his hand rest against her right bum cheek, giving it a squeeze. "Love this arse," he murmured, "even when it's sorry and drunk."
Piper leaned over and bit at the exposed skin over the collar of his shirt teasingly. She pressed a kiss down in the same spot a second later to soothe the mark, and then tucked her cheek down there, her hand sliding down and over his side so her arm draped over him.
"Missed you," she said softly as her eyes began to drift shut again. "Missed my hangover pillow," she murmured into his chest as she nosed at his skin, breathing him in. "Missed my morning cuddles."
"Me too."
"Can we sleep some more?" she asked drowsily. Before Harry had a chance to answer, she'd drifted back to sleep.
He didn't mind. There was no cure for jet lag like a lazy day in bed with his girlfriend.