Watch Your Tongue

"It's... probably under a shell company." Alba reasoned. "Maybe they think they're selling to a cruise ship or something."

"Maybe." Hamilton sniffed.

Alba tensed. If this was a speed date, she would surely get buzzed off. Or something. She didn't know how speed dating worked.

Hamilton punctuated his lack of engagement with a stretch and that noise the Victorians would have spelled "Welp! I can't say I worked out until I actually get going, so I'm going to mosey. Nice making your acquaintance, Alba."

Alba was thinking about things she could make with Hamilton, but to call the result an 'acquaintance' would be a dereliction of parental responsibilities. "You, too. Maybe I'll catch you around the gym sometime. We'll go there together and get... all sweaty."

"Sounds like fun." Hamilton nodded. "Talk to Management and we'll see if we can't link our schedules up, get in there at the same time. I'll spot ya."

He turned and walked away.

Alba stood there, mouth agape, barely able to focus on watching him leave. She felt her heart fill with despair.

It didn't work. The pheromones didn't work. Had Taylor made a mistake and this was actually the spray that made men oddly polite and deferential? Alba may now have been the only woman this muscle-head HADN'T looked at as a sexual object. Why the hell not? Was she really just THAT plain?

"WHY ARE MEN SO GODDAMN STUPID!?" She cried out to the concourse, swinging her fists around.

This time, her careless flailing hit the soda machine. A dozen or so red cans tumbled out of the machine like marbles, causing Alba to stumble and fall back to the floor.

---

Alba sat at the endlessly long bench, a feature of this stretch of wall that only terminated to make room for the Coke machine. It was a skateboarder's dream, but the only vehicles that went through here were the occasional golf-cart or the janitor's push cart.

She had her head down, holding her cranium in her hands. She was frustrated and angry. That prank her associates had pulled on her just caused her to embarrass herself in front of one of the dreamiest men she'd ever been in the same room as. Maybe it didn't matter. At least she had run into him... literally. It wasn't like Blancpain would ever warm her bed... even if it was written down as a 'training exercise.' He surely didn't need it, but she would surely... spot him.

She wasn't crying or upset, but she was too frazzled to return to her work station, with all her pranksters watching her as she returned. It was like all her former classmates who mulled around, waiting for them to see the look on her face when she finally found out they had glued her locker shut with Krazy-Glue.

College was a tough time for Alba.

Until Alba could return to her work with some dignity, and until her heart settled so that her fingers weren't shaking... she would sit right here... alone.

She wasn't alone for long. Someone took a seat next to her.

"Are you OK?" They asked.

Alba turned to her right. The woman had sat so close that their hips were touching. She was clearly an agent, based on her strong-looking arms and significantly inflated bust, but she was dressed in her civvies of a blue tank top and white jeans, rather than a glamorous evening gown and elbow-length gloves. She had long dark hair swept into a ponytail and a thin necklace with a little charm resting in her cleavage.

"Hello. Yeah, I'm fine, I guess." She sniffed a bit. "Just... having a bad day."

The woman brought her arms around and embraced her. While not as large as Hamilton's, they were no less strong and comforting. The agent held her tightly, one hand resting on the top of her neck. Alba held her breath, feeling a fever wash over her anew. How many unfortunate men had felt these hands on their neck, only to never breathe again?

The agent gently brought her nose against Alba's cheek as she pulled back from the embrace. "I'm Geena. What's your name?"

"Alba. I work in Props."

"Oh, cool." Geena sounded impressed. Surely, what Alba did wasn't as impressive as saving the world... right? "What kind of gadgets do you make?"

"I work on watches." Alba said. "Almost always for the male agents. Ladies' watches are too small to hide anything cool."

"Well, we get purses, at least." Geena said. "But they get more loose clothing and pockets to hide stuff. It's the plight of the female agent. I'm sorry, here I am, complaining about the jet-setting world-preserving adventures I get to go on when you're the one having the bad day. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Alba said, recognizing the nervous energy that Geena was emitting, but not where it came from. "I'm sure you've got lots of fascinating stories to tell... if they're declassified."

"Well, I want to hear about you." Geena smiled. "What happened anyway? Why is today a bad day?"

Alba had almost forgotten. She sighed. "Someone pulled a prank on me earlier. Just trying to cool down before I get back in there."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Geena brought her hand to Alba's shoulder. "I'm surprised anyone is pulling pranks in this environment. We're all supposed to be the best of the best here. But in my experience, people do that stuff because they have unresolved romantic feelings. They're just picking on you because you're pretty."

Alba's face immediately turned red. It had been a long time since anyone had said something like that to her. Alba never thought she was unattractive, but with the agents all throwing off the average pulchritude of the Institute, she never really felt 'pretty.' It suited her fine to go unnoticed, for the most part. Better to focus on her work.

"I thought that was just an elementary school thing." Alba looked off.

"Well, you know how it is. Some men never really stop being boys."

"I don't know who it was who pranked me, if it was a man or woman."

"Well, either way, I'd bet that was the reason." Geena said. "And I'm not trying to flatter you or anything. You're really cute." Geena pushed in a little closer. One of Geena's hand fell onto Alba's thigh, just above the knee and below the hem of her skirt. Her fingers curled the tiniest bit, as if she wanted to hook them into her skirt and push it up. What was going on?

"Well... uh..." Alba stuttered. "I hardly feel like I need to tell you that you're... really cute too?" She regretted saying it right after the words stumbled out of her mouth. Agents weren't 'cute!' They were bombshells, literally! They entered businesses saturated with crime and evil and rid the world of it. A 'cute' agent could only infiltrate the local coffee shop and get a wink from the art student at the front desk!

Geena chuckled once. She put her other hand on the edge of Alba's jaw, pulling her face in. Alba allowed her to turn her head thusly, soon finding Geena's soft lips on hers.

Alba whimpered, frozen in place. The kiss lasted for a few seconds, the only motion from Geena's lips as they grew into a smile.

"Did you like that?" She asked softly, with an edge of hopefulness and vulnerability.

The pheromones! Of course! If they didn't work on that giant slab of beef... maybe they were working on her? This absolute knockout, a woman whose beauty was literally weaponizable, had just kissed her within a few minutes of meeting her. She was suddenly THAT irresistible. It must be that! What else could it be?

Alba shook nervously. She should tell her. This could easily be considered a reduction of informed consent. James Bond pulled that nasty card trick on Solitaire in You Only Live Twice. That was more regressive and inexcusable than disguising himself as a Japanese person. Alba should tell her. Tell her right now.

With Geena still so close, Alba couldn't resist closing her lips on Geena's bottom lip.

She'll tell her... in a bit.

"Did... you... like that?" Alba shook as she said it.

"Of course." Geena immediately closed in again and kissed her, slower and longer. It was long enough for Alba to shake even harder.

"Are you cold?" Geena barely needed the motivation to put her arms around Alba's back, pulling her in close. "This coat must not keep you very warm..." Her hand returned to the back of her neck, now scratching her scalp like she was petting a kitten. "Did something happen to your shirt?"

"I spilled Coke on it." Alba said without thinking about it.

"Oh, that's too bad." Geena went for her little purse and pulled out a handkerchief. "I'll get it." She put the little cloth thing in her hand and went for the stain... but somehow pulled too far to one side. Her open hand landed and clasped firmly onto her breast.

"Did I get it?" Geena whispered with an impish grin.

"We're in public..." Alba looked around to see if anyone was watching them. She'd never get a chance with Hamilton if anyone told him about this.

"I know... isn't it great?" Geena moved in again and returned her lips to Alba's, holding her head in place.

"This isn't some sort of mission, is it?" Alba said, still suspicious.

"Why would I be here if I was on a mission?" She nearly whispered directly into Alba's mouth before closing her mouth atop her lips. "There are no bad guys here..."

With a sudden release of passion, like a clock wound too tight suddenly snapping, Alba brought her hands up to Geena's head and pulled her in by her hair, reciprocating the kiss and opening her mouth. Geena brought her hands up and pulled her in tighter, kissing her over and over, rolling her head from side to side as her nose brushed against Alba's. Alba kept up with her, moaning and chuckling. Who cared if anyone saw them? They were allowed to do whatever they wanted on their breaks, and that could include making out with an agent she hadn't met before. Who cared if anyone noticed?

"What are you doing?" Came a nearby voice with an evident disapproving tone.

Alba gasped. Turns out, that was all bluster. The moment someone noticed them, Alba tried to get away and scurry away into a mouse hole. But Geena's grip on her was too strong, holding her close. The woman who spoke up was... another agent. Even taller, even stronger-looking, and even larger breast implants. Less hair, however, as she had a stylish short-clipped hairdo. She gazed down at Alba with a look of disapproval, like Alba was playing with something that wasn't hers.

Geena looked up to the second agent. "I'm just comforting my friend here."

"You always French kiss your friends?" The second agent put one hand to her hip. "That's weird."

"What do you know, Bec? You don't have friends." Geena teased.

Bec nodded. "That is true." She answered without a hint of sarcasm.

"Besides... she started it." Geena said.

Bec scoffed. "I really don't believe that part." She sat down on the other side of Alba, pinning her between the two agents. "What's your name?"

"Alba Rousseau."

"Ooh... French." Bec smirked. "Suddenly, the kissing makes sense."

"I was just helping her feel better, Bec. Some bully pulled a prank on her."

Silence for a beat. "Want me to kick their ass?" Bec offered.

Geena snickered. "That's always your first thought, isn't it?"

"I'm in the ass-kicking business."

Alba silently wished her friends had been so quick to take up arms when growing up... but most of her friends were just as wimpy as she was, if not moreso.

"I'm serious. That's part of the training. They find transients and death row inmates for us to practice killing. They need to know we have the nerve to do it when the time comes."

"Bec, shut up." Geena said. "That's not true. Now who's doing the bullying?"

"I guess they stopped that program before you got here."

"I was here a year before you!"

"Not my fault you got held back."

Alba shrunk between the pair. She always felt awkward getting stuck between two people in an argument. It was more awkward when they were both trained killers.

"So, what do you do here, Alba?" Bec asked.

"I work in Props."

"Oh, cool." Bec said. "Can you make me a ring with a hidden blade, so I can cut someone's throat or femoral without having to go for a knife? Garrotes take too long."

Alba was a little alarmed at the gruesome idea. "I make watches. I don't think we have a... ring designer. I thought the idea behind using garrotes is that there's no blood splatter, or at least less than a knife. But I can picture the design. A little mini scythe-like blade that flips out on the underside of the palm. But it'd have to be the same size as the ring, so it'd be like a little eagle claw."

Bec's eyebrows went up for a flash. "That would work. I hadn't thought about the actual form factor of it."

Geena pulled Alba in tighter. "See? Beautiful AND smart."

Alba blushed intensely. Being called smart was somehow even more embarrassing, despite being the one virtue she was always certain of. "It's just an idea. It might not be practical. Besides... we've got those little ceramic knives on garters. That might do the job just fine."

"Oh, I don't use those..." Bec slid in closer, pulling up the side of her skirt. "I like the cut on my skirt to go way, way up. Someone would see it."

Alba looked at the pale, toned thigh Bec had shown her. "I'm sure that Wardrobe could come up with something, no matter how alluring the dress. Or the... agent."

"Y'know... now that I see her up close..." Bec cleared her throat. "I can see why you... wanted a little."

Rather than pull her face towards her with a finger on her chin, a move that Alba was now entirely hep to, Bec swooped her face around and planted her lips on Alba's.

Alba squeaked helplessly. How could this really be happening?

"She catches you by surprise, huh?" Geena whispered into Alba's ear.

It probably didn't require further clarification, but the mechanical engineer with two master's degrees didn't have the deepest sexual history. She had never once discovered someone staring at her with unchained lust. Men looked at her the way an exhausted person looks at a bench at a bus stop; something to use until the place they REALLY wanted to sit came by.

Both agents were breathing their hot breath against her, mouths gently agape and hands rubbing through her lab coat and sweater, pawing at the flesh underneath. They planted their big soft lips on her cheekbones, jaw... anywhere on her face they fancied. Bec held her close with both arms, pressing her breasts against her, licking Alba from neck to temple like she was made of chocolate. When Geena pulled Alba in for some kisses, Bec nibbled and sucked at Alba's earlobe.

If Hamilton saw her like this... he'd never look at her the same again. He might stick around and watch the show, if he was into this.

"Maybe we can... find some privacy?" Alba squeaked.

Both agents bucked their eyebrows at the same moment. Bec said to Geena, "Wow, she's so bold."

Alba put her face in her hands. She really hadn't meant it like that. She didn't have the resolve to ask the two babes to mess around somewhere more secluded. She just didn't want to get necked on the concourse where she could get gawked at from three different floors of activity.

Bec stood up, holding onto Alba's hand to bring her along. "Why don't we come back to my place?"

Geena took the other hand and coaxed Alba up. "Sure, let's... take a long lunch."

---

The agent's rooms weren't really that much bigger than her own. She had envisioned something like a suite, something more regal and spacious, with wood accents, a fireplace and a humidor. Agents were meant to have a taste of fine living.

As it was, the agent's quarters had room enough for a dinner table and two chairs, but most of the other furnishings were the same. Most of it were those space-age furnishings primarily made of indestructible plastic and some accents of stainless steel. It almost looked like an ice cream shop in the Jetsons. It might have been stylish in the late nineties.

There was also a view. Two thin windows cut into the wall, one in each room, gave a view of the running track and athletic field that existed in the center of the Institute's campus. It was better than the weird, prison-like skylight that Alba had in her room. She covered that thing with a piece of cardboard on day two. As someone who worked on a computer most of her life... natural light was always the enemy.

The bed felt the same, at least. When brought into the Institute, she was surprised how good the beds were. Or at least the mattresses. The Institute knew where to put the money where it was really appreciated.

Alba didn't dare recline onto the bed. She still feared she'd wake up in her own bed, this whole day slipping through her fingers at any second, the way she'd failed to land Hamilton earlier. What a distant memory that was now! Now she had TWO agents with big beautiful chests looking for her attention.

She heard the running water in the next room turn off. The sudden and relative quiet in the room made Alba even more nervous, like the silence that comes over an auditorium when the house lights go down. She was about to get a much nicer view... and all Alba had to do was to sit still and keep her cool.

Geena rolled out of the bathroom, her back facing the edge of the doorway. She was wrapped in a white towel, holding it in place with one hand above her heart. Her tanned legs stuck out from the towel, poised on her toes to make her look taller, her legs longer. A drop of water ran down her raised leg, down her knee and off her bare foot.

She looked across the room to Alba and took in a deep anticipatory breath, her chest swelling and a smile appearing on her face. This was what they trained her to do, Alba thought. That moment Geena gets someone in the bedroom, she had to make sure whatever lucky jerk didn't think twice about what they were doing.

Alba certainly didn't think twice. She barely thought once.

As if punctuating their difference in approach, Bec stepped out of the bathroom entirely naked, arms to her side, her footsteps slapping loudly on the floor like the webbed feet of a duck. Her body was all hard curves as her moist skin caught the dim light and accentuated every bit of lean muscle on her body.

Bec turned and looked at Geena. "What are you doing?" With a quick swipe with one hand, she stripped the towel off of Geena and walked forward with it, wiping her hair with it as she approached the bed.

"Hey!" Geena cried, covering herself for a moment before relaxing her arms. "Come on, I wanted to build up to it."

"Well, that's tough, because..." Bec threw the towel onto the back of a nearby desk chair and sat next to Alba. "I don't feel like waiting any longer."

Alba put one thumbnail in her front teeth... if only to stop her from grinding them involuntarily. She had it pulled away as Bec took her head with both hands and planted a big kiss on Alba.

Geena quietly protested at being left out, skipping over to the bed and sitting on the other side. Bec would not release Alba's sweet lips just yet, but Geena's hands wrapped around and landed on Alba's breasts, kissing her neck and shoulder.

The two agents pressed in closer, crushing Alba in between their four huge firm breasts. Alba used to dislike breast implants in porn, but avoiding them was harder than not eating food with corn syrup. Besides, she never knew how lovely they'd be pressed up against her, so warm and densely doughy... maybe she could get a pair. She would never had seen the need to to attract so much attention, but that attention had found her, and it was lovely so far. Two fit and sweet-smelling babes nearly pulling her apart like two children fighting over one doll, their arms pulling her in like powerful insatiable boas.

One hand, whoever it belonged to, went up Alba's flank and started pushing her sweater up her body.

Suddenly, Alba felt like she might not be ready after all. "I need to freshen up, too." She squeaked.