Thread: A Royal Catastrophe (Mali and Quix)

Ben glanced around to appraise the surroundings, street-walkers in short multi-coloured leather skirts, heels, and make-up painted on their faces, as well as on their arms to conceal the track-marks. Glass from smashed light globes littered the ground, and left the area in the darkness, from where pimps watched their charges, and dealers conducted transactions, and the Neon signs advertising the names of the cheap hotels were more broken than blinking. They were only a few minutes drive from Sky's residence, but it was a completely different world, and not one future Royalty would usually be seen in. The Agent hoped that would provide cover, and allow them some space to talk, and attend to Sky's wounds. He thought she'd caught the brief look of amusement on his face after he'd called her a Princess, but couldn't be certain that she'd understood his meaning. These American's sometimes didn't get British sarcasm, and this probably wasn't the time and place to explain that he'd just accused her of possibly sometimes being difficult and demanding. One thing he knew for sure was that he'd be wary about calling her a Queen again, as the woman obviously didn't appreciate it, and anyways, she was but a potential Queen until they arrived in London and her right to accede the throne was verified. Even then, she could refuse to accept the honour. One eye remained on her as he drove, and he was struck by how attractive she was. The accent was kind of charming, as was her attitude - more direct and blunt than her English counterparts - but he swiftly banished the thoughts from his mind. He was on a mission, and there was no time for personal relationships, nor was he James Bond with a girl in every city. No Pussy Galore for Ben, and neither did he drive an Aston Martin, or possess an umbrella that shot poisoned darts. Although the man had had his share of girlfriends, his occupation, which had to be kept secret, required him to be absent for much of the year, and there was no girl at home waiting for him. However, that was fine with Ben as ever since he'd been a schoolboy in long shorts, he'd dreamed only of emulating his Father by joining the services, and adventuring the world whilst serving his Country. And what could be more important than ensuring the integrity of the British Monarch was maintained. I'm sorry, he replied with a slight smile and crinkling of the eyes as he turned into the motel, and she finally broke the silence. He removed a hand stand from the steering wheel, and raised it in apology. No more Queen or Princess jokes, I promise, then glanced at the sign offering XXX movies, and I'm not a porn sort of guy. He was going to continue to say that he preferred the real thing, but then decided that would sound rather cheesy, and possibly be seen as more than a joke by Sky so, instead, averted his gaze, and searched for the best location to park. The second he'd found a space by the wall, under a broken light where the vehicle was obscured, and reached over the back-seat to search for his medical kit, Ben heard the passenger door slam shut. Shit. Hey, get back here. He called out for his own now-opened door, but it was too late, for she'd already disappeared into the foyer. Ben arrived a few moments later, just in time to be almost bowled over the rushing woman, and her words reverberated in his ears. We are not staying here. He thinks Im a hooker! His hands, one containing a small black bag, flew up to her shoulders to stop her slamming into him, and his eyes landed on hers, then darted to the pimply youth behind the counter. It didn't take long for Ben to comprehend the situation, but rather than attempt to resolve the misunderstanding, the agent deliberately compounded it. It's okay, baby, you should take it as a compliment. He cocked a brow at her as the young man's mouth dropped open, to match his eyes, and the agent's attention darted between the two, then hooked his fingers into Sky's arms, and gently maneuvered her backwards as he continued. He's obviously never seen one as attractive as you, and isn't aware there's a vast difference between a hooker and a call-girl. Ben knew he was going to be in trouble for this, and had a feeling that Sky's wrath could be even more painful than anything his own rouge countrymen or the Russians could do, but he wanted to maintain the facade that Sky was a lady of the night, and hoped she'd play along instead of continuing to cause a scene that would draw attention. Isn't that right, Son? The M1-6 spy released his grip on the woman as they reached the centre of the foyer, and fully turned his focus towards the clerk. The guy could only nod and swallow as Ben then tossed two one-hundred dollar bills on the desk, however wasn't as stupid as he looked, because he immediately knew what the man was after, and this time, didn't request ID. I need to properly test the merchandise, so please ensure we're not disturbed, and if anyone asks, you never saw us. The clerk, still half in shock, emitted a croak of acquiescence, and a moment later Ben turned towards Sky with a room key in his hand - Number 13, as luck would have it -, shot her his most charming smile, and pointed to the stairs. Come on honey, I told you, time is money, and we ain't got all week.