"We call ships 'she'. We call our machines 'women'. We compare women to black widows and vipers. And you're going to tell me it's not 'lady-like' to scream, to take up space, to fight and demand respect and do whatever I want. You've looked at nuclear bombs and been so in awe that you could only name them after women. Don't try to down-play my power."

Cole's POV

After her brother went back to college and Sydney convinced her mom to accompany her dad on an extended business trip, we took the first flight to Long Beach for an assignment. Most of the time we were watching, waiting for the right time to strike. We wanted to ensure we completely took out this sex-trafficking group, and freed all the girls. Strike too early and a girl could get killed. Strike too late and these monsters relocate. Sydney posed as a troubled girl, infiltrated, signaled me, and we systematically eliminated each target and left before the authorities showed up to take care of the girls.

After that successful mission, we returned to HQ to complete the post-op evaluation and paperwork before heading out. Sydney's agreement and my assignment allowed us permission to come and leave as we pleased until the school year ended.

We rode our bikes downtown to popular restaurant to dinner, and then headed back to my apartment for a movie. We sat on the couch, pressed against each other. While Sydney watched the movie, I was more interested in her. Her golden skin, her onyx forest of hair, the way her lips tugged into a smile, and her hand resting on my leg.

01110100

The movie ended and Sydney pulled out of my arms to pick up our empty ice cream bowls. I watched as she rinsed them off in the sink before drying her hands. Walking over, I wrapped my arms around her, "Thank you, Syd."

She hummed in acknowledgement.

"Stay here tonight," I murmured into her ear before grazing my lips over her neck.

She shivered and I began to place kisses along her neck before I couldn't take it anymore and turned her around. I pressed my lips to hers as she eagerly responded running her fingers through my hair. One hand gingerly cupped her face while the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer, and she moaned. I placed her on the counter and stepped in between her legs. She tugged on my hair and I groaned.

"Maybe I could stay tonight," she breathed as I kissed her neck. She pushed me away and hopped off the counter before making her way to my bedroom, having me follow like a lost puppy.

01101111

Reaching my arm over to pull her closer to me I'm only to be met with bed sheets. I crack an eye open. Beams of sunlight stream in through the gaps in the curtain revealing an empty bed. My heart sank—I thought we were past this.

That's when Sydney walked in with the sexiest bedhead, wearing my shirt—only my shirt.

She noticed my look of relief despite my attempt to hide it with an impassive mask.

She frowned and said, "You really thought I left you?"

"Can you blame me?" I responded, meeting her gaze, "It's not like you don't a history of it."

Her frown disappeared, and when all emotion left her face I knew I fucked up.

We'd gone through a lot to get to this point. To establish trust and an understanding, and me doubting her...shit. Our first time was sort of a sensitive topic. Why did I have to bring that up? There was too much pain and too many emotions associated with our first time.

01110010

It was late fall, only months fresh out of training. We had just returned from an assignment in Geneva, Switzerland. A scientist had been developing a modified strain of small pox that was immune to the vaccine.

In order to avoid a pandemic, we were sent to take her out and contact the WHO to safely dispose of her work. Except Dr. Amèlie Welty spent most of her time either at her house or in her lab. Her lab, precariously stocked stocked with deadly microorganisms and likely infected test subjects, posed to many risks. So, we decided to strike at her home while her daughter wasn't home. We'd even notify authorities so her daughter, Florence, wouldn't have to find the body.

But we'd miscalculated. Florence stopped home before soccer (or football there) practice and caught us in the act. She lunged at me, catching me by surprise and latching her hands around my throat. Sydney, who had been disposing of any evidence of our presence, shoved the daughter off of me. Only she had pushed too hard and Florence hit her head on the corner of the counter, dying instantly. Never showing qualms for taking a target's life, Sydney stared at Florence in horror for a moment before masking her emotions and robotically resumed cleaning the crime scence.

We slipped out soon after I'd contacted the WHO. Syd never said a word after on the way back.

When we arrived to HQ at 4:30 in the morning eastern time, we had to complete post-op paperwork. Which took nearly twice as long as usual in our jet-lagged state, and we didn't finish until around 6:00. Afterwards, with an unnessecary casualty weighing heavy on Syd's conscious, we headed to our room. We headed to our bunks, completely drained. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was out.

I awoke to Sydney walking through the door, a basket of fresh bedding in her hands, and dressed for a workout. She notices me blinking the sleep away from my eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Sydney asked.

"No, I just woke up," I sat up, "I see you've been up for a while. What time is it?"

Sydney walked to her side of the room and I assumed she began making her bed, "A little past five, sleepy ass."

By the time I forced myself out of bed, Syd had made her bed, cleaned her side, and had her gym bag slung over her shoulder. For the briefest second, I thought I saw her checking me out, since I was shirtless. But I blinked and she had a blank expression resting on her face.

Despite my near eleven hour nap, I was still restless. Spending my first Thanksgiving away from my family made me feel so fucking homesick. My family didn't have a lot, but we'd invite the whole family and everyone would contribute. We always managed to figure it out. The fact that the big five were responsible for this made my blood boil, but I also knew that I got my family moved to a nicer area and helped pay my sister's student loans. I may have been okay, but Sydney was agitated too, and that was hard to watch.

Syd had been my constant in the continuously crashing waves of this hell. She had always been reserved but tough. I watched her rise from one of the most bottom raking trainees to the number one assassin within the agency. She'd been ruthless but smart in her rise to the top. Depending on the person she'd maybe frame top spots as most dangerous with unneeded responsibility and pressure from the big five. For others that were as cutthroat as her, she utterly destroyed and ensured they feared her. But she tried to build as many alliances as she could and stockpiled as many favors as she could. She had been known to cover for others who were in her favor.

She was both feared and respected by the majority of the others. Those that hated her would never attempt anything against her since the majority of other trained assassins would come to her aid. She was viewed much like Don Corleone.

Sydney reminded me of why ships were referred to as "she" and why women were compared to black widows and vipers. And as she headed to the gym and I took off on my run, my mind stayed with her.

Our music taste was similar which helped when we'd train together or when we were deployed. I wonder is she's listening to the same hardcore, explicit rap.

Shit! Almost ran into a pole. I need to get my head out of my ass. While the run had helped me stop thinking about home, I couldn't stop thinking about Syd. And when I returned to our room she was only in a sports bra and these tiny, fitted shorts. All I could think about were her toned thighs wrapped aroud my-

"Let's go for a swim," Syd interrupted my thoughts before a mischievous smile crept onto her lips, "Last one there has to clean the bathroom!"

And she took off: out of our room, sliding down the railing, rolling into a landing before popping up and sprinting down the north wing to the pool. The sound of her bare feet slapping against the linoleum echoed off the pool walls until I watched as she elegantly cannon balled into the pool a split second before me. We resurfaced, swimming laps and fucking around.

Afterwards we dried off enough to grab a burger at one the dining halls. I thought we'd walk back together but she split and didn't return to out room until about an hour later. Her hair was messy and clothes disheveled—it was pretty obvious where she'd been,

"Where'd you hurry off to?" I questioned, trying to keep my tone light.

She kept her head down, "Just clearing my head."

"You don't have to lie to me," I snapped, "If you were fucking some guy, it's fine. Just don't lie. I'll clean the bathroom after you shower.

She scoffed and turned her back to me, "That's what you fucking think of me?"

The bathroom door slammed shut, and when she emerged, she ignored me. Realizing how shitty my words may have been, I got the balls to go and apologize to her. She was sprawled out on her bed with music blasting in her earbuds and book occupying her attention. Her silky, black hair was splayed across her pillow and her scarlet lips slightly parted. Toned, tanned legs stretched across the gray, standard bedding, marred with scars and bruises. God, she really is gorgeous.

Just when I decided to walk away, she spoke up, "Want something?" Her tone indifferent, which hurt more than if she had been pissed.

"I came to apologize. Whatever you were doing is your business, and I'm sorry for what I said," I gulp and meet her gaze, "Could you forgive me?"

"I forgive you. And you're right. What I do is my business, but I'm gonna trust you this one time and tell you so you better not make me regret this," she paused to take out her earbuds and put her book away, "I wasn't having sex with some guy. I...I left because...because I...I didn't want you to see me...lose it...to break."

She stepped over to me, leaving a small space between us, and I drank in her features. Her chocolate eyes that glowed like copper in the light, the crooked slope of her nose from where she'd broken is, her full lips, her inky waves, and the fresh scar cutting down her face.

She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me as my entire body reacted to her.

"I'm tired of feeling like shit," she whispers, "I can't."

"What're you saying?" I ask, wrapping my hands around her waist.

She inches closer, brushing her lips against mine and driving me crazy, "I'm saying that I can only cope so many ways. Help me feel good. I can't do it on my own anymore."

Something twitched. I breathed out, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she murmured before crashing her lips onto mine.

Kissing her was like my first time sledding down the giant hill near where my house—the anticipation and nerves before I began my descent only for the heart-pumping fear to be replaced by absolute ecstasy to the point that that was all I wanted to do. Running my tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entrance, I was met with her eager admittance. She moaned and I couldn't take it anymore and carried her to the bed. There our clothes disappeared and I made sure to take it slow, knowing this was her first time. I kissed every scar on her body. I whispered sweet nothings into her ear as we made love. I lavished her body, pouring all my emotions into this time to make it special. And when we were done, I cleaned her up.

She fell asleep in my arms—her head against my chest and our legs tangled together. That's the first time since I was recruited that I slept through the night.

When I woke up, she was gone. Turns out, she woke up before me, requested a long term, solo assignment, and had left only an hour ago.

01100100

Before I knew it, Sydney was getting dressed and tugging on her black jacket.

"Come on, Syd. I didn't mean it like that," I scramble out of bed and yank on my boxers.

She continues on her path to the door, "I have some things to take care of."

I'd catch her wrist, but she'd probably break it...again. Instead, I race to cut her off and block the exit. Sydney pulls on her boots without lacing them and stands in front of me. I know full well she's contemplating the endless ways she could make me move.

"Cole, please just move." Her voice sounds tired as she runs a hand through her hair.

"Syd, please. I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean that," I take a step closer, "Please don't leave yet. Forgive me?"

She brushes her lips against mine before I close the gap between us, pressing my lips onto hers. I wrap one hand around her waist and the other hand around the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. This girl is going to be the death of me.

"I forgive you," she murmurs, "But there are some things I need to take care of. Come with me?"