Big Dirk Allen and the Tiny Blonde V

The office was still and quiet as the grave, which was odd considering the bodies had been removed three days prior. It seemed disrespectful to turn on their flashlights, so Tina and Dirk stood quietly and waited for their eyes to adjust to the dark. The glow of the street lights flowed in through the bay windows. It cast long shadows on the rug, but it also gave just enough light to investigate.

"CSI has been through the room thoroughly," she said, her voice slightly louder than a whisper. "It's doubtful we'll find any new evidence."

"Oh sure." His voice was maybe a little too loud, but since City Hall was closed for the night and all the municipal workers had gone home, it wasn't much of a problem. "But then why are we here?"

That was a good question and Tina had an official answer for it. Was it the 'real' reason they were there? That sort of existential pondering was hardly helpful when a murderer was on the loose.

"General Zero is a suspect," she explained. She still smarted from the way the crimelord had trapped them in an underground lair while simultaneously carrying off a mineral heist. "It's possible they wanted to prevent Appleton and Snide's meeting from taking place."

Dirk scratched his head. "Zero wanted to stop Chesterfield Appleton and Sylvestra Snide from having sex?"

Tina nervously cleared her throat. "They weren't having sex."

He looked down at the taped outlines on the floor, the only remnants of the gruesome crime. "They were found side by side with their underpants around their ankles."

"There are any number of reasons why they may have dropped their underpants," she said. "We have to deal with facts. We can't make wild speculations."

"His dick was between her legs."

"Ok, they were having sex," she admitted, "but sex wasn't the reason for the meeting."

"I'm pretty sure sex was the reason for the meeting."

"It wasn't the official reason." It was awkward discussing coitus with Dirk. On several occasions they had engaged in intercourse for the purpose of saving lives. Tina was well aware of his skills in that area. Sometimes thinking about his skills kept her up at night. Which reminded her, she needed to pick up batteries on the way home. "You've read the case file, Agent Allen. Care to remind us of the particulars?"

"The particulars of the case..." Dirk stepped over the cadaver outlines and stood in front of the ornate fireplace that was the focal point of the office. Glancing at himself in the large mirror hanging above it, he took a moment to fix his hair. "Middleburg Comptroller, Chesterfield Appleton and Sylvestra Snide, Chair of the City Parks Planning Commission, were found shot to death in this office, Appleton's office, three days ago. The room was locked from the inside and witnesses watched the two enter the office alone. The windows were closed and no bullet holes were found. The coroner's report noted the look of horror frozen on both victims' faces. The prevailing theory is that they saw the murderer and knew they were about to die, but I'm wondering if those were just their O faces."

"Very good." Tina shot him a big smile. It was obvious he'd committed the file to memory. When she'd met him, when he'd still been working as a male model, he wouldn't have been able to get his way through a police file, much less memorize one. She was so proud of him, of how hard he'd worked and how far he'd come.

According SWSO regulations, pride for a teammate was permissible, so Tina embraced that emotion. What she felt for Dirk was pride, nothing else. She was proud of his accomplishments since joining the Secret World Security Organization's training program. She was proud of his unusual abilities, his inhuman speed, strength and stamina. She was proud of his personality, so genuine and sincere. And she was proud of the way he filled out a T-shirt. The boy had some muscles on him. Just touching them made her feel... proud.

"The official reason for the meeting," she continued, "was a stretch of land on the waterfront. Snide wanted the city to purchase it for a new park. Rumor has it, Zero's looking at it for a new underground lair."

"I get it now," Dirk said. "If we can prove Zero is the murderer, then maybe we'll be able to figure out what they're going to do next."

"Exactly." One of Tina's goals for the evening was to fill in some of the blanks in General Zero's file. So far there was little. Height: Unknown. Gender Identity: Unknown. Dastardly plan to take over the city of Middleburg and then the world: Unknown. She wanted more than anything to put something in the known column. "Fac-Tel." She touched the communication device tucked behind her right ear. "We're in position. Are you ready?"

"Why wouldn't I be ready?" Fac-Tel answered. "I'm not a biological. I don't have to use the bathroom and get a cup of coffee before I start my day."

"Usually it's the coffee that makes me have to use the bathroom," Dirk said.

"We're going to start scanning," Tina said. "I just wanted to make sure, Fac-Tel, that you were prepared to analyze the data we're about to send you."

"Again, why wouldn't I be prepared?" the A.I. said. "At the drop of a Hypertext Preprocessor, I can analyze X-rays, ultrasounds, computed tomography scans, astrological imprints, etcetera, etcetera . Just scan. I'll worry about the analyzing."

"Great. Thanks." Tina tried not to sound annoyed, but she knew as soon as the words left her mouth, she had failed. Producing a square device from her purse, she walked over to the far wall. "Dirk, you remember how to use your handheld scanner?"

He pulled the scanner from his back pocket. "Hold it a couple inches from the object you're scanning and every two minutes or so move it over an inch."

"You got it," she said, "except, as international secret agents, we use the metric system. Instead of holding the scanner a couple inches from the object, hold it a few centimeters from it. And instead of waiting two minutes before moving it, wait 100 seconds."

He looked down at his scanner. "Metric, huh?"

"Start with the bookshelves." She pointed to the wall next to the fireplace. "Remember, we're looking for a bullet hole or an opening a gun could've been fired through."

Tina turned her attention to the wall in front of her, moving her scanner methodically over the wood panelling and around the ornately framed oil paintings. It was her educated guess that the murderer had been in the neighboring office and drilled a hole in the wall.

"These are some fancy books," Dirk said. Tina looked over her shoulder and saw his head tilted sideways as he read the spines. "They're all hardcovers and absolutely no Harry Potter."

"Don't worry about the books." She took one of the paintings off the wall and scanned behind it. "We're looking for something abnormal, something that's just slightly off."

"There's something off with the bookshelves," Fac-Tel announced.

"I knew it," Dirk said. "Who doesn't, at the very least, have Sorcerer's Stone?"

Tina placed the painting back on its hook and crossed to the other side of the room. "What did you find, Fac-Tel?"

"Should I have said Philosopher's Stone?" Dirk asked. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, that's the metric title, right?"

"They're not real books," the A.I. said, ignoring Dirk. "It's a false bookcase. The scans are picking up a hollow space behind them."

"That is so cool," Dirk said. "What do you think's back there? Pirate's treasure? Porno magazines?"

Tina ran her hand around the edge of the bookcase, searching for hinges or a hidden lever. "City Hall is over a hundred years old. It's rumored there are secret passages all through the building, from the base of the Matthias Middle statue on top of the clock tower to the top of that clock statue containing Matthias Middle's bones in the sub basement. This could be how the killer gained access to the office." She stretched her arm up as far as she could, but even in her high heel boots she couldn't reach the top shelf. "Dirk, feel along the top with your hand. See if you can find a button or something that will open the bookcase."

She watched him carefully as he reached his arm up, noting how his T-shirt rode up to reveal his flat stomach and that wispy line of hair that ran from his belly button down into his snug fitting jeans. It was a surprise to feel her tongue peeking out of her mouth and running along her upper lip, as if it too wanted to catch a glimpse of Dirk Allen's happy trail. It seemed every part of her body was proud of his physique.

Tina quickly turned, averting the gaze of both her eyes and tongue. "Fac-Tel, how large is the space behind the bookcase?" 'Proud' wasn't the right word for what she felt and she knew it. She needed to stop lying to herself. Her physical attraction to Dirk was a problem, but not nearly as big a problem as her emotional attraction to him. "Could a person conceal themselves there?"

"Definitely," the computer responded. "If I can analyze the dust and air particles in the space I might be able to tell if someone's been in there recently."

"I found something!" Dirk was so excited he nearly shouted. Both his arms were stretched way above his head, his fingers curling over the top edge of the bookcase.

"Is it a button?" Tina asked, remembering to keep her voice low. "Press it."

"Ok." Dirk's hand pressed down, then he took a quick step back.

A rumbling noise emerged from the shelves and they started to slide sideways. A dark space appeared, approximately three feet, or rather, Tina reminded herself, .0914 meters wide.

"Good job." She looked up into Dirk's pale green eyes and gave him another smile. He had such pretty eyes. They contrasted nicely with his dark hair and full, masculine lips. The better Tina got to know Dirk the more attractive he grew. And he was fucking gorgeous when she first met him. It was disturbing, to say the least. Increased physical attraction toward an individual was one of the first signs of...

Tina swallowed. She didn't even want to think the words.

Increased physical attraction toward an individual was one of the first signs of falling in love.

According to SWSO rule #96, secret agents were only allowed to experience three types of love: love of country, love of duty and love of sacrifice. Any other love could be used as a weapon against an agent. It had taken Tina years of therapy to reduce her familial love to an ambivalent indifference. Now, if some deranged villain made her choose between saving the world or saving her parents, she'd make the right choice without regret. Goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Blondel. You died for a good cause.

Romantic love was the most dangerous and that was the direction Tina's feelings for Dirk might be heading. The intense romantic bond had to be avoided at all costs. It caused people to lie, steal, or, even worse, wear matching outfits to company picnics. She'd seen it happen too many times before and she had vowed never to let it happen to her.

Love, in its essence, was a release of oxytocin in the brain. Everytime she engaged in sexual intercourse with Dirk, everytime he gave her another mind blowing orgasm, her brain released more oxytocin, conditioning her to feel love and affection for her coworker. As much as she wanted to invite him into her bed and ride him like a wild mustang, she couldn't do it. More sex meant more oxytocin. They couldn't have sex ever again, even if the job required it.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she pulled her SWSO issued flashlight from her purse and peered into the void. Her beam of light fell on a small, but comfortable looking recliner, a stack of magazines, a box of tissues and a pump bottle of lotion.

Dirk reached down and snatched a magazine from the top of the pile. "What do you know, it is porn. The murderer must have planned to wait a long time." He held the magazine sideways so that the centerfold flipped down. "Nice."

Tina moved quickly and picked up the next magazine from the pile. While a woman graced the cover Dirk was holding, a man stared back from the one in Tina's hands. There was no mistaking his pretty, green eyes, dark hair and plump, manly lips. Dirk had worked as a model for years before joining the SWSO. It was possible he could have done a risque photo shoot.

It only took a second to open the magazine and look inside. Yep, it was him. She recognized that cock.

"Get a load of this, Fac-Tel." Dirk was holding his scanner over the magazine. "Tell me that's not DNA."

"General Zero." Tina barely breathed the words. Could it be? Might they finally have some evidence that would help them track down their nemesis?

"Nope," Fac-Tel said. "That's Appleton's spew."

"What?" It almost felt like Tina's heart was breaking.

"Chesterfield Appleton," the A.I. continued, "Middleburg City Comptroller. The person whose office you're standing in. He's the one who ejaculated onto Miss February's mammary glands."

"That makes no sense." Dirk dropped the magazine back onto the pile, while Tina surreptitiously rolled hers up and slipped it into her purse. "Why would Appleton hide for hours just to shoot himself?"

"I find no evidence of a firearm," Fac-Tel said. "No bullet casings or gunpowder residue."

"The murderer was never behind the bookcase." Tina sighed. She knew it when she first saw the magazines, but she didn't want to believe it. Linking Zero to the murders was her top priority. The sooner she did it, the sooner she could put the criminal mastermind behind bars.

Her feet felt heavy as she crossed the room to the fireplace, careful to step over the cadaver outlines. She ran her fingers over the intricate wood carvings in the mantlepiece. The winged cherubs holding satchels of money, seemed to mock her with their smiling faces.

"We're back where we started."

"We know some things," Dirk said, his voice a little too perky. It was obvious he was trying to cheer her up. "We know Appleton was a horndog with a rub cubby at work. We know he was doing the nasty with Snide."

"Ugh, biologicals and your need to touch genitals," Fac-Tel muttered. "It's so gross."

"It's too bad good old, smut aficionado Chesterfield didn't make his own pornos," Dirk said. "If he'd recorded schtupping Snide, then maybe he'd have recorded the murderer too."

Tina looked up at the mirror over the fireplace. The whole room was visible behind her. There was Appletons's massive, wooden desk, the bay windows that looked out over City Hall Plaza, and over by the bookcase stood Dirk looking good in his tight pants and T-shirt. From this vantage point she could see everything.

"Maybe he did film it." Pointing her scanner at a section of the mirror, she turned it on and counted to 100. "Fac-Tel, what's on the other side of the mirror? Is there a camera or something?"

"I hate to tell you this," the A.I. responded, "but it's just a wall."

"No!" In her frustration, Tina threw the scanner down onto the plush, red carpet, letting her purse drop to the floor with it. "Why does this case have to be so frustrating?" She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Why can't it just solve itself?"

"Relax," Dirk said. "You're trying too hard." He walked up behind her and placed his large, strong hands on her shoulders. "When I think too hard, I get a headache and then I can't think at all." His fingers and thumbs started to work the stiff muscles of her neck and back, digging into the knots of tension. "If I stop thinking, if I let it all go... Well, by the time the headache goes away, you've figured it all out and I don't have to think any more."

The touch of his fingers felt good. It did relax her. It also made her horny as hell.

Her eyes popped open. "That's it. We'll make our own movie."

"What?" Dirk's hands dropped to his side and he took a step backwards.

Tina spun around to face him. "We're going to reenact the crime."

He glanced down at the cadaver outlines taped on the rug and then back at her. "You mean..." He tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. "You mean, we're going to have sex?"

* * * * *

Tina was excited. The little shadows her erect nipples cast on her blouse made that obvious. And Tina's excitement was infectious. It made parts of Dirk's body get erect too. But he couldn't have sex with her, not again.

Not that he didn't want to, because he did. He couldn't spend a minute in her presence without fantasizing about lifting her skirt and pulling down her panties. He thought about bending her over the desk and taking her from behind. But the truth was, he didn't want to just have sex. He wanted to make love to her.

He wanted to undress her slowly, surrounded by the warm glow of candlelight and soft jazz playing in the background. He wanted to lay her down on a bed scattered with rose petals and take his time kissing every inch of her gorgeous body. He wanted to sink into her slowly, moaning her name as she whimpered how much she loved him. They would become one, both body and soul. It would be so beautiful, they'd climax together with tears in their eyes.

Dirk wanted to make a baby with Tina. He'd never had a pregnancy kink before, but the other night he'd rubbed one out while thinking about fertilization. It was freaking him the fuck out. If he was going to get past this, past his obsession with his work supervisor, he'd have to go cold turkey and not have sex with her ever again.

"We're going to have sex?" he asked.

"No." Tina smiled awkwardly. "Of course not. No."

Dirk wasn't sure if he felt relief or disappointment. "But we're reenacting the murder."

She nodded. "The moments that led up to the murder, yes."

"And in the moments leading up to the murder," he said, his eyes dropping once more to the body outlines taped on the rug, "Appleton and Snide were having sex."

Tina laughed nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Sure, but there's no need for us to actually... do, you know, that. Not this time."

"You're not going to touch genitals?" Fac-Tel asked.

"No." She laughed louder. "We're just going to go through the motions."

"Oh." Dirk definitely felt disappointed. "Like an old married couple."

"Exactly." Tina gave him a friendly, little punch on the side of his arm. Then she patted him in the same spot, gently squeezing his biceps. A dreamy look flitted across her eyes and her lips curved into a half smile. "That's nice."

"What?" Dirk wasn't sure what was going on.

"What?" She dropped her hand to her side and took a step back. "I'm sorry. What?"

"You're reenacting the murder," Fac-Tel reminded them.

"Of course we are. I'll be Sylvestra Snide." Tina walked to one of the cadaver outlines and carefully placed her feet on top of the outline's feet. "She was standing here with her panties around her ankles." Then she reached up her skirt and wiggled her hips until her underpants slipped down her legs.

All Dirk could do for a moment or so was stare at the silky blue with yellow polka dots fabric resting on the tops of her boots. He had recently come to the conclusion that women's panties were like the cover to a really good book. He just wanted to open it and bury his nose in the tight prose inside. Tina's book, of course, he'd read before, but, as with all the classics, it was worth going back to again and again.

"You're Chesterfield Appleton," Tina said, her voice super cheery, much more cheery than the reenactment of a brutal crime called for. "He was standing there." She pointed to the other cadaver outline. "And he had his pants and underpants around his ankles."

"Oh. Ok." Dirk took his place near her and unzipped his fly.

"You can leave your boxers on." Her eyes drifted down to his underwear. "Boxer briefs. Snug, black, boxer briefs. Those look good on you."

"Thanks." He wasn't sure what else to say.