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"Good afternoon Agent… Burnwood"
It takes all of her might to stop the huge smile that tries to unravel across her lips, because the words roll off his tongue so eloquently and tease her senses just so. He's obviously learned from the best but that aside, she finally, genuinely, realizes how intoxicating it is. The control he holds over her in this moment makes her feel surprisingly Pavlovian.
"Your target is Tobias Rieper," he continues, his voice serious as usual, yet laced with something rather playful. "This revered International businessman is best known for his devilishly good looks, well tailored suits and a knack for leaving the competition 6 feet under."
He pauses when she stifles a bit of a laugh, covering her mouth to allow him to continue.
"Intel on his exact whereabouts in Sapienza is limited, but I can confirm he is somewhere in town. Happy hunting, Diana."
The way he enunciates her name causes a little shiver of pleasure to run up her spine. It's their first time roleplaying, and what better way than to start than with a bit of a role reversal.
The idea had been sparked the night before they had left for Sapienza. 47 had been teaching Diana how to shoot a sniper rifle at their secluded winter cabin, guiding her grip with his hands, his body and his words.
"You must be really enjoying this," she quipped as she diverted her eyes from the scope to him.
He turned his head slightly to look at her, arching a brow, his arms still firmly planted around her.
"You know, getting to be my handler for a change. You're quite the natural," she teases, only half joking, because his guidance truly is top notch.
Sprawled out in bed that night, they had planned their first little foray into roleplay. 47 had actually been the one who suggested a faux mission. It was something so completely second nature to them that it could help ease them into the experience. Now that they were flying solo, and no longer employed by the ICA, Diana would be joining 47 on missions more frequently as well. It was a good opportunity for practice, 47 had logically reasoned, while their small grins in the moonlight hid their shared ulterior motives. They were the ones that were far more erotic in nature than a simple practice mission would lead one to believe.
Diana smoothes her light, floral summer dress as she makes her way up the stone stairs right outside of their safehouse. She looks about, debating where to search first as she glances over at the old Caruso mansion, now turned into a grand hotel for the little town. Of all the places they've ever travelled, Sapienza had been their favourite. The quaint town had always welcomed them home with open arms, and felt like a second home.
With a master like 47 at the helm of their little operation, they had agreed on a few stipulations. He would only hide in a public place, somewhere easily accessible, where she couldn't get in trouble for trespassing. Also the term hide was used rather loosely; no chests or closets, or disguises. 47 had a good chuckle at that, but the intention really was for her to find him, not for him to best her.
She continues to look around as the gentle ocean breeze rolls through the old streets and tickles her nape. A good agent would explore all possible mission opportunities, no matter how obvious or how odd it was.
Her eyes focus on the little ice cream parlour, just a stone throw away. Gelateria Bella had quickly become a favourite of 47's, leading him to visit almost nightly whenever they were in town. It made perfect sense to start her search there.
Stepping into the small shop, she admires the pans that overflow with delicious, sweet gelato. She looks around at the people lined up inside and with no agent in sight, she decides to step outside. She casually busies herself with her mobile phone as a guise to look about the outdoor seating in a subtle manner.
"Walk me through your process," his voice softly chimes in her ear.
She brings her phone to her ear, to allow her to speak freely while in proximity to those enjoying their coffee and sweets on the terrace.
"Despite the limited intel," she starts, "I'm well aware Mr. Rieper has quite the sweet tooth."
"Does he now?"
"Yes, but it doesn't appear he's here," she says as she takes one last look around.
"Well..I believe he may have plans to go there this evening," 47 responds, with a touch of humour in his voice.
"Of course he does," she smiles as she places her phone back in her small purse.
She throws a look back at the old stone fountain in the small square and then looks over at the old Caruso Villa one last time. She decides to pass on searching the lobby of the new hotel, as her feet urge her to move on towards the water. It's a gut instinct, but a good one. 47 always loved Sapienza for the seaside view. It always brought him peace and left him feeling deeply relaxed, even after a short stay.
She continues down the road, passing by the magazine racks of the local news stand. She smiles as she recalls how the charming older couple who owned the shop started ordering more gardening and cooking magazines, once they noticed the materials started gaining popularity. Truth be told it was 47, buying more than one copy so he could leave his favourite editions in other safehouses. She would take a look inside but the store is closed early on Saturdays, so the couple can go enjoy the seaside. It was one less place for her to look.
She continues her walk, passing the lush floral planters that line the stone alley, while colourful sheets and shirts hang, drying in the midday sun. She closes her eyes, inhaling the scent of the fresh flowers in the air. She opens her eyes and finds herself already at the local flower shop, il fiore delle mille e una notte. She stops to admire a bouquet of white littles when he speaks in her ear again.
"Beautiful flowers, aren't they?"
She hums in agreement, bowing her head to take in their sweet, floral scent.
"Mr. Rieper does love his flowers…," she starts.
"He does."
"However…" she begins with a bit of thought, "the beautiful bouquet on our kitchen counter this morning would indicate he's already been here."
She can practically hear his little smile through her earpiece. "Very good, Agent Burnwood," he responds proudly.
That pang of arousal hits her again, just at the sound of those simple words. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip, nearly needing to steady herself against the larger planter next to her. She makes a mental note, thinking that they'll certainly have to do this more often.
She continues on, passing a few parked scooters and a series of benches as her short summer heels click against the rough stone path. She listens in as locals chat and laugh, and as tourists stop to ask for directions. It's a short distance from the flower shop to one of her favourite destinations in town, Il piccolo mondo del vino. She had made it a personal mission to eventually taste every wine the store had on offer. While it could be a good place for 47 to hide, she notices the door is locked and displays a gone to lunch sign in Italian. She sighs lightly as her search seems to continue.
"You're getting warmer, Miss. Burnwood."
Her heart leaps, spurred on by his hint. She turns on her heel, and quickly spots the old church. The mustard coloured bricks seem to beam as brightly as the sun. It's almost illuminated in a glow, like a clear and obvious answer to all her questions. He had to be there.
Diana wasn't a religious person, and had found it quite interesting that 47 was. On Sundays in Sapienza, she would wait while 47 would stop into the church to participate in mass or just light a candle briefly if they had other plans. She found his faith rather endearing, and was simply happy it was something he enjoyed of his own Accord.
She steps into the church, gently listening in as the soft mutters of prayers are met with the light echoes of those playing in the sun right outside the old building. She scans the long, oak pews but much to her disappointment, each bowed head is full of hair. She looks over at the series of small altars, filled with little votive candles, but he doesn't appear to be there either, as she watches a mother boost her son up to help him light a candle. She takes a few steps over, standing in close proximity to the confessional but before she knows it, an old widower exits the stall, slashing the last of her hopes to find them.
With no luck, she lets out a long sigh. She's not completely discouraged, but was certain she would have found him by now. She steps back out of the church, as her eyes adjust to the direct sunlight again.
She spots the street performer from afar, watching as he does his usual stint, juggling until he drops the balls and slips on them, causing a group of children to roar with laughter. A small smile graces her lips at the ridiculousness of it. After not being able to find 47 this far, perhaps she found herself in the right company, deciding to walk over to him.
It's almost as if it was meant to be, because the sun glints against something metallic in the distance just right, causing her to look over. She suddenly spots him and his trademark bald head and barcode. He sits on a bench, facing the water, with a large newspaper in his hands.
"Target located," she proudly announces into her earpiece. "North facing bench, right by the street performer."
She can see him turn his head to the side, before looking back ahead.
"Your target is on the move," he responds as he gets up, tucking his cell phone into his pocket and folding his newspaper up. He begins walking, starting to put a bit of distance between them. She tilts her head slightly, unsure of where he was going.
"You better get a move on, Agent," he playfully speaks as he throws a look over his shoulder.
She follows him as he passes the Sanguine store, walking along the stone seawall. As they further themselves from the crowd, he can hear the steady clicks of her heels draw near, as she picks up speed. He doesn't quicken his steps, continuing to walk at his same leisurely pace.
He hears a small clang, and stops suddenly as a coin rolls by his feet. The sun glints against the metal grooves of the ICA's logo as the commendation coin rumbles around on its edges before laying flat. Obviously she's learned from the best too.
He follows the coin, as any unsuspecting target would, bending over to pick it up. Once he returns standing, he feels her arms slink around his sides, as she captures him in a hug from behind. He covers her hands with one of his own.
"Subdued," she says, as her cheek rests against his shoulder blade.
He smiles proudly. "And where will you hide the body?"
They take two steps over together, still in their embrace, as they step over to the seawall's edge.
"Dumped into the water," she responds, looking over the edge.
"Target down, excellent work Diana." He turns around to face her and catches the flush in her cheeks.
"I did quite well, didn't I?"
"You did."
She tucks a loose tendril behind her ear. "Now what about my payment? A good handler always transfers the payment the moment a contract is completed."
"I can transfer it right now," he says, rather mischievously. He takes her hand, pulling her in his direction as he steps backwards, leading her towards the short pier. With no fishermen or tourists in sight, he pulls her around the corner, and presses her against the rough stone, kissing her deeply.
Her hands are immediately grasping at fistfuls of his summer shirt while their kiss turns hot and hurried. He presses her into the stone, finally breaking his lips away so he can his way down her neck and pulse point. He places a kiss against her clavicle before looking into her lust-filled eyes. He's continuing to take the lead, and it only proves to further fuel the fire within her core.
He reaches under his arm to grab the thick wad of newspaper he was still hanging onto. He suddenly drops to his knees, wedging the paper under him as cushioning to protect his joints against the stone seawall. Diana's eyes open wide at the realization.
"47," she gasps, grasping onto this shoulder as she quickly looks around.
"There's no one on the pier," he reassures, " and we're out of view from the others." His hands rest delicately on her thighs. "Only if you want," he says, leaning over to press a kiss to her exposed knee.
She bites her lip and looks around, verifying what he's said is true. There is no one around them, and they're tucked around the corner, hidden from any prying eyes.
"Quickly, before anyone intrudes."
She doesn't have to tell him twice, because in an instant her summer dress is pulled up and her lace panties are pulled down. Without wasting any time, he immediately presses his mouth to her most sensual area.
He ravishes her, diligently licking and sucking her to her climax. He runs his tongue through her folds, flicking the tip of it against her clit with expert precision. He always wants more, and thus he reaches up, pulling one of her breasts lose from her halter-style top. He palms it, and pinches her nipple and he continues to work his tongue away at her core. She buckles, almost unable to prop self up and she lets out one lewd moan after another.
Soon, her body jerks against his mouth as she emits one last gasp, while her fingers grip at his head, desperately trying to hold onto him.
He stands after she rides her wave of pleasure, a bit uneasy, as his knees readjust. She drops her skirt back into place, and he helps to cover her chest back up. She plants her mouth right against his, kissing him fully, deeply. He tastes like her, and it practically makes her shudder with pleasure, ready to go again.
"The rest of your payment is waiting at the safehouse," he whispers into her ear. Suddenly it's her turn to play, as she reaches down, cupping his hard member through his linen pants, and giving his balls a gentle squeeze.
"I'm ready for more," she practically purrs against his ear.
With no time to waste, he quickly grabs her hand and begins leading her back to the safehouse with haste.