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xp_logsAmanda and Morgan head to Symkaria to get the information they need to access their target. It's not exactly easy and requires a lot from both of them.
Symkaria wasn't exactly a tourist destination, but if there was one thing Amanda had discovered over the years, it was that backpackers were literally everywhere. It didn't matter if it was the worst third-world hole, there'd be at least one or two twenty-somethings with large packs, guidebooks, cameras and a thirst to discover the 'authenticity' of the place they were in. It made for the perfect cover, the witch had found, especially in places where she stuck out like a sore thumb - all she needed to do was dress in her most 'student' clothes, add a few local trinkets for flavour and no-one would look at her twice as she wandered around. Or if they did, it was to try and sell her something.
She was in a small hole-in-the-wall bar, sampling some of the local vintage - actually, it was something that tasted like engine coolant and kicked like a mule - and picking at some pickled vegetables, waiting for Morgan to make contact. Considering the shape shifter could have picked up any particular body, it was an exercise in tact, weeding out the usual local bar flies trying to attract her attention, and not saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.
Vanessa scratched at her beard. She'd found a lovely Hungarian man in his mid-twenties who was more than willing to flirt with her off in a corner somewhere. He was even kind of fit, honestly. It made her feel almost badly for having to knock him out and steal his clothes, but ultimately it was the job and he looked decent naked so she didn't feel too badly about it. Besides, he was a bit smarmy.
The accent was easy, it was one she'd done before. Vanessa decided he walked with a bit of a swagger. Cocky. Self-assured. Not someone you take seriously. Sandor, she'd always liked that name. Amanda had left clear enough directions for where they were meeting and Vanessa knew her way around the area pretty well anyway. All that pale blonde was easily spotted in the sea of locals and tourists alike.
The man walked up to Amanda and his arm slid around her shoulders with a casual ease. "Hello beautiful, you're drinking all alone?" His tone was flirtatious because no one would blink at some man flirting with a backpacker. The arm, though, it was draped around her the same way Vanessa draped her arm around her friend when she snuck up on her out of nowhere. His arm hung off of Amanda's shoulder without trying to curl in around her or cop a feel. It was familiar and Vanessa hoped Amanda realized it as well.
"Not any more," Amanda replied with an equally flirtatious grin. "Fellow traveller, eh? Feel up to sharing stories?" She nudged 'Sandor' gently in the ribs with her elbow, the same way she usually responded to Morgan's particular 'greeting'.
A smile curled onto the man's lips, smug and cocky where Vanessa would have been confident. It was a reaction to the elbow, not the words. Amanda knew who she was dealing with, brilliant! "Yes, a fellow traveller. With you, my beauty, I would do more than share stories. With you I would create them."
"You're a smooth talker, aren't you? Pull up a pew and have a drink with me and we'll see where things lead us, yeah. You never know, you might find out all sorts of secrets." She waved to the barman to bring another drink and shifted on her stool slightly to give her new companion room.
"A pew?" Vanessa grinned and pulled a stool over to sit by Amanda's side. "If it's church we're in I should tell you I only pray on my knees." She couldn't help it, church innuendo was just too good to pass up any day of the week.
Amanda laughed, a merry peal of sound that drew the attention of a couple of the locals, who rolled their eyes or shook their heads and returned to their own drinking. "I might have to hold you to that," she said as the barman brought over another drink. "Cheers," she said, holding up her glass. She wanted to make sure the ruse was sufficient that no-one would pay attention to the two foreigners flirting in the corner.
Sandor's hand lifted his own glass and clinked it against Amanda's. He gave the blonde woman a nod and said, "Cheers, my beauty." Then Vanessa took a deep enough pull that she was sure Sandor's insides were going to be eaten away by the liquid. Jesus fuck, that shit just never got any better, did it? Everyone nearby seemed to be ignoring them by time Sandor moved his arm down so his hand could rest against Amanda's lower back.
"I like the beard," Amanda said in a low, intimate voice with another flirty smile. "Is there a name to go with it?"
"Shaun-door," Vanessa responded, enunciating it clearly for the supposed foreigner. The urge to give Amanda horrifically cheesy lines really should be crushed. It should be squashed post haste! But it wasn't going to be. "And what shall I be calling you? I should make sure I use the correct name in prayer." He smirked at her.
"You mean 'oh God' isn't enough?" Amanda sipped at her drink, repressing the urge to shudder - it really was vile. "You can call me Sadie. Sadie Spears." It was another of Remy's awful passport names, which she was actually enjoying now.
"Are you a sadist, Sadie?" His voice was low and suggestive, as if Sandor was hoping he'd found the dominatrix of his dreams. "I have been very bad boy."
"You stick with me, Sandor and I can get you into all sorts of trouble," she replied, winking. "But first, you have to do a little something for me... I'd love to hear more about where you've been, the people you've met. It might help me plan my next trip."
"I've been many places. Went to Russia recently. Met a man who you cannot meet. Obviously, I did not meet him either. I thought he was President maybe, or leader like that. More guards than American President or Pope. British Queen walks around with less guards. You should see the guns they have. Big guns. Lots of little guns but you're not supposed to see them." Vanessa tapped his temple and smiled a lot. "But Sandor's eyes are better than most people's."
"See, I tend to think there's a way around everything. Nothing too well guarded if you're determined to get your souvenir." Amanda swirled her drink around in her glass. "No back doors or servant's entrances or the like?"
Sandor frowned and shook his head. "Not that you can get through. Russians, they are a very paranoid people. Russian technology, it's not always so pretty these days but some people can buy foreign. This untouchable man in Russia? He can afford to import. All over the world I haven't seen security systems like this. You get in you aren't getting out. Russians," he cringed, "not known for their patience without their sadism. Not known for not having sadism without short tempers. It's not such a good idea." At least the Russians in question here weren't known for being patient, gentle, tree-hugging folk.
Amanda pouted, mind working furiously behind the couquettish expression. If Morgan was saying there was no way in, at least not without a way out, then they were in trouble. There wasn't enough power here for her to use any spells that would help and the teleporting was an exercise in random distribution. "You'd be surprised at what a pretty face and a low cut dress can do," she told Sandor with a slightly wicked smile. "Everyone likes a pretty girl, don't they?"
Sandor's head tipped to the side. Was she really suggesting what Vanessa thought she was? Jesus, she hated when jobs went that way. But Sandor nodded, a smug smirk on his face that didn't match the feeling like led in Vanessa's stomach. "Only if they are not fans of the man sex."
So, there was the possibility of an in. Amanda had a rough idea of Morgan's reaction to the suggestion, but unless they got those access codes, they were fucked. "Even a man you can't meet has his needs, after all." She trailed a finger up Sandor's arm. "The thing is, tho', arranging introductions. Tricky when he doesn't seem to leave his hidey hole."
"He doesn't," she replied with confidence. Sandor's eyes followed Amanda's finger up his arm while Vanessa thought. He was covered by security whenever he left. There was no in to the house that could get you back out alive. Neither of them could turn into a bloody cloud, now there would be a handy mutation right now. He didn't even go grocery shopping. Sandor quirked an eyebrow at her, eyes flicking up to catch her gaze. "No, but this is why you employ lackeys. Lackeys leave the hidey hole. They come back with what you need. Even on lonely nights, they come back with what you want or they don't come back."
Amanda smiled, slow and seductive. "Well then. Sounds like a lark." She met Sandor's eyes, expression flicking to momentarily serious. "You up for it? I could use an extra pair of hands, to fetch and carry." We both go in, I'll keep him occupied, you get the codes. She hoped Morgan understood her meaning - she hated this kind of double speak for important things.
Vanessa watched Amanda closely for a moment. Her eyes went from the other woman's to her neck, her shoulders, the set of her jaw and then back up to her eyes. "I'm a strapping man, I can carry." Because if she was lifting the intel it meant the faster she got it the quicker Amanda could get out. She might not have to go through with it. Vanessa knew they both knew, though, that it didn't matter who ended up in the bedroom. They'd go through with it. Anything else was too suspicious.
Amanda raised her glass again. "Sounds like we've got a plan, eh, Sandor?"
"To prayer," he toasted, mostly because Vanessa needed to lighten the mood. She touched her glass to Amanda's and took another swig of that foul alcohol.
***
This was the job of a thousand Vanessas. She'd had to swap out Sandor for a pretty Greek girl of about eighteen earlier. If you wanted to get close to a man so you could knock him unconscious and steal his body it was always easier when you were a pretty girl. Amanda was right about that. They watched the lackey in charge of collecting his master's pussy for the night leave the property in a sleek, black Mercedes. She'd been hoping he'd stop somewhere on the way but he didn't which meant they were going to have to get him out of the club with them so they could make their move. Either that or no one was using the bathroom for a while.
Vanessa parked a block and a half down from their target and watched him cross the street toward the club. "He really can't think up anywhere better to pick up women?" She shook her head, then she looked over at Amanda. "You ready, pet?"
"It's not like he's got a lot of options," Amanda answered wryly, using humour to cover her nerves. It wasn't going to be the first time she'd done something like this, but it had been a while. She tugged at her bra, pushing her breasts up higher in the low-cut blouse. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. Between the low blouse and the short skirt, there was a lot of pale, creamy skin visible, off-set by the scarlet lipstick she had on. "How do I look?"
"Biased opinion," Vanessa told her smoothly. "I'm pretty much always ready to pray at your altar." She grinned and winked at her friend, hoping it would help calm her. "You look like a tart, really, but a very tasty one." Another smile and then she climbed out of the car. The door locked and was shut behind her while she waited for Amanda to come around. The pair made their way across the street, Vanessa slipping her hand into Amanda's because any man that loved tits liked two pairs of them together.
"'S just like falling off a bicycle," Amanda murmured in response, squeezing Morgan's hand in gratitude. Now they were moving, the nerves were subsiding - Amanda always hated waiting. As they entered the club, the Brit allowed another of those slow seductive smiles to cross her face. "We should try this at Silver sometime. I do like being the center of attention, and with you hanging off my arm, they don't stand a chance."
A hand stroked down Amanda's hair and Vanessa placed a kiss on her neck. "They'd never know what to do with us either, pet." Her smile was all flirtation and mischief, the look in her eyes clearly stating she was thinking of where she could get the woman by her side to herself. Vanessa looked around to see several men watching them already. Blatant acts of lesbianism never went unnoticed by the male population. She couldn't see their target, though, and she didn't want to make it obvious she was looking for anyone. Bedroom eyes focused on a man over Amanda's shoulder and she spoke into the blonde's ear, "Do you see him?"
Shivering at the touch of lips on her neck, Amanda nuzzled Morgan's ear, glad the shapeshifter was wearing body she wasn't dwarfed by for a change. "Over by the corner of the bar. He's found himself a good spot to watch the place, see what's on offer. Time for a drink, you think?"
"Mmhm. Definitely time for a drink." Vanessa raised Amanda's hand to her lips, brushing a kiss across the back of it, and gave a girlish giggle. "I love making friends." She playfully tugged Amanda along to the bar. As they drew closer she spotted the man they were after easily enough. Vanessa squirmed up to the bar and placed them both directly in his line of sight as she smiled at the bartender and flagged him for his attention.
Out of the corner of her eye, as she tipped her head back and laughed along with Morgan, Amanda caught their man's attention switching to them, practically feeling his eyes crawling over her. "Bingo," she murmured to her companion, holding up her glass. "Za Vas!" she said, a simple Russian toast calculated to secure his attention.
It worked. He blinked, a brief, predatory smile crossing his face.
Vanessa knew nothing of Russian aside from how to say "yes." She could recognize the accent of it in Amanda's words easily enough, though and she raised her glass in kind. "Za Vas!" she echoed, letting her glass touch Amanda's briefly. Her eyes remained on Amanda as she took a drink, but her position shifted slightly so she could catch their target in the periphery of her vision. Drunk girls were easy targets and if the pair of them seemed to have a low tolerance for alcohol it'd probably get him over to them more quickly. Vanessa could pull him off somewhere for a bit of fun, knock him out, steal his body and his clothes, but it was so much easier to do once they got him to leave with them.
For her part, Amanda knocked back half her drink and made a show of coughing and spluttering. "Whee! That's some strong stuff!" she exclaimed to her companion. Perhaps she was overdoing it, but regular attendance at Silver had given her a lot of college students to study. "Perfect party fuel!" As she placed the glass back on the bar, she noticed the bartender was already lining up another pair of drinks.
"Gift from the man at the end of the bar," he said in his stitled English, nodding at their target, who raised his own glass when the pair glanced at him.
Vanessa raised her glass to the man and giggled. Her first drink was shot back and she shook her head, face scrunching up in response to the bite of the alcohol. "I think we should go thank the nice man for our drinks," she told Amanda, giggling still and nudging the blonde with her hip. Vanessa picked up the new drink and then slid Amanda's closer. Her eyes were on the target, attention rapt now that he'd called it to himself.
"~So, you are Russian?~" he asked in that language, and Amanda giggled and shook her head.
"~Oh no. I'm English, but I've studied it. My friend doesn't know it at all,~" she replied in kind, before switching to English. "We're on holidays. Seeing the world, you know? My name's Molly. Molly Desmond. Thank you for the drink."
"You are welcome." The man's English was thickly accented, but serviceable. "My pleasure, for two such pretty girls." He glanced over at Morgan with an expectant air.
Vanessa smiled coyly at him. She sat down beside him close enough that her leg pressed up against his. "I'm Stacey. What's your name?" She was chewing on her lip, giving him big, innocent eyes. It was clearly her playing schoolgirl for him, but Vanessa was sure he wouldn't mind it.
From his expression, he certainly didn't. It wasn't hard to tell what dilemma he was trying to solve in his mind - which one for him, which one for his boss? - and his eyes flicked to Stacey's breasts before he answered. "Boris. So, you girls are looking for the party, da?"
"Da," Amanda replied with a giggle, hanging back just a little to let Morgan work her wiles. "You don't know of anywhere that's fun, do you? Symkaria's not exactly a social hotspot."
"I might." He looked at Stacey again. "Tell me, pretty one, would you like to go to the party with me?"
She blinked big eyes at him, mouth curling into a smile even as she sipped at her drink. Giggling, she replied, "Da, I want to go with you." She emphasized the last word gently, making the point that she wanted Boris more than the party. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth and she wiggled a bit where she sat next to him.
Vanessa loved how entirely easy men were some days. As long as you didn't mind dangling yourself off a hook, anyway. Fingers trailing up his thigh from his knee, Vanessa asked, "You wanna go...like...now?" Her expression promised a host of things one shouldn't necessarily do in public places.
"You are in a hurry, pretty?" He nodded at the bartender, who set down three more drinks and the bill. "And do not worry, Miss Molly of England. There will be plenty of fun for you. I have this friend who would very much like to meet you."
"If he's as good-looking as you, I don't think I'll be complaining," Amanda said with her own flirtatious smile as she tossed back the drink in front of her and reached for the third, glad she had the tolerance of a much larger person from years of drinking despite her young age. "What do you think, Stacey? Up for it?"
Worrying her lower lip still, Vanessa flicked her borrowed eyes from Boris to Amanda, back to the man and then finally settled on her friend. "I want to go. It's been so boring here." She looked back to Boris coyly. "You'll make sure I'm not bored though, right? I mean, you wouldn't do that to me, I don't think." Her fingers continued to trail in lazy lines along his thigh, sometimes dipped down suggestively close to more interesting parts of his trousers.
Boris swallowed heavily, reaching for his own drink and slamming it back hurriedly before pulling out his wallet and throwing a number of notes on the bar. "Let's go, da? And maybe, in the car, we can have our own party first." His arm curled around Stacey's waist as he rose, hand dropping to squeeze her ass. With his other hand, he beckoned Amanda closer, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "This place, it is very special. Not everyone can go there," he said expansively, steering them towards the door.
"We'll have to make sure we show our appreciation then, won't we?" Amanda purred, tucking her own hand into Boris' back pocket. "Since you're being so kind to us and all."
Vanessa was slower killing off her own drink, but it was gone before Boris' hand got to her ass. She had to admit, the body she was borrowing did have a really nice ass. She leaned into the Russian, much closer than necessary or really practical for movement and draped her arm around his shoulders. The short stature made her barely able to manage it comfortably. "We're very good at showing appreciation. And very thorough about it. It could take ages for us to finish showing it."
His hand tightened on her ass, squeezing almost roughly. "We have some time. My friend, he is not expecting anyone for one or two hours."
Vanessa gave a girlish squeak in response to how much harder he was grabbing her. She had to remind herself not to punch him, actually. "So we can have our own party first?" Her voice had dipped down low. It match the motion of her hand as it hooked behind Boris' belt buckle as she rotated her body in front of him and walked backward. "Might not be enough time for my sort of party but we'll see what we can do," she promised.
***
Stuffing a body into a trunk was a lot easier when you, yourself, were larger in stature. Vanessa's borrowed Greek girl was a bit of a pain in the arse when it came to knocking Boris, the man with grabby hands out. Then she got to find an alley where she could strip him, strip herself, steal his clothes and sit around with her hands on him for a bloody hour and a half. That bit was always so bloody dull. At least she had company.
"Das vi danya comrade," Vanessa said with Boris' appropriated accent as she tucked his arm inside and shut the trunk on him.
Amanda stretched out her back - Boris had been heavy. "Good riddance to bad rubbish," she agreed. "'S almost enough to make you swear off men, dealing with a stereotype like this one. How's the body sitting?"
Vanessa shrugged. "Like a body," she answered in an accent that was more heavily Bostonian than Morgan tended to speak with. "Y'know, it's like just putting on a new outfit. It's sort of shiny and new and neat so it feels nice to slip into and then it's just clothes. Let's get this done, yeah?"
The witch nodded tightly - the interest in Morgan's powers had been an unconscious delaying tactic, she knew, and there was a job to be done. She yanked open the back door of the car. "Drive on, James," she said, affecting a posh British accent as she slid inside.
"Yes, ma'am," Vanessa replied, accent slipping back into Boris' thick Russian. She drove the pair of them back to their target's house, getting through security easily with a bit of help from Boris' psi-patterns on top of all the surveillance.
A man walked up to them in the hall and nodded at the girl. "She's here for party with the boss," Vanessa told him. "You know where he's waiting?" The man directed them up to the next floor and down the hall into an enormous master bedroom.
"You're sure?" Vanessa asked in a whisper to Amanda. "I can always mimic you and you can slink about to get the codes." This was Amanda's last chance to bow out of the end of the deal she'd taken on.
"Too risky," Amanda whispered back. "If I'm spotted, the shit will hit the fan and we're all fucked." Footsteps approached and she yanked her blouse down further, breasts nearly spilling out of it. "Go on. I'll be fine. 'S just another job, yeah?"
"Yeah," Vanessa nodded. "Just another job." Vanessa bowed Boris' head to her friend and then went off to do her job. Amanda made her choice, they'd both deal with any consequences from it. Vanessa knew that and she trusted the other woman. It was time to get to work.
Symkaria wasn't exactly a tourist destination, but if there was one thing Amanda had discovered over the years, it was that backpackers were literally everywhere. It didn't matter if it was the worst third-world hole, there'd be at least one or two twenty-somethings with large packs, guidebooks, cameras and a thirst to discover the 'authenticity' of the place they were in. It made for the perfect cover, the witch had found, especially in places where she stuck out like a sore thumb - all she needed to do was dress in her most 'student' clothes, add a few local trinkets for flavour and no-one would look at her twice as she wandered around. Or if they did, it was to try and sell her something.
She was in a small hole-in-the-wall bar, sampling some of the local vintage - actually, it was something that tasted like engine coolant and kicked like a mule - and picking at some pickled vegetables, waiting for Morgan to make contact. Considering the shape shifter could have picked up any particular body, it was an exercise in tact, weeding out the usual local bar flies trying to attract her attention, and not saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.
Vanessa scratched at her beard. She'd found a lovely Hungarian man in his mid-twenties who was more than willing to flirt with her off in a corner somewhere. He was even kind of fit, honestly. It made her feel almost badly for having to knock him out and steal his clothes, but ultimately it was the job and he looked decent naked so she didn't feel too badly about it. Besides, he was a bit smarmy.
The accent was easy, it was one she'd done before. Vanessa decided he walked with a bit of a swagger. Cocky. Self-assured. Not someone you take seriously. Sandor, she'd always liked that name. Amanda had left clear enough directions for where they were meeting and Vanessa knew her way around the area pretty well anyway. All that pale blonde was easily spotted in the sea of locals and tourists alike.
The man walked up to Amanda and his arm slid around her shoulders with a casual ease. "Hello beautiful, you're drinking all alone?" His tone was flirtatious because no one would blink at some man flirting with a backpacker. The arm, though, it was draped around her the same way Vanessa draped her arm around her friend when she snuck up on her out of nowhere. His arm hung off of Amanda's shoulder without trying to curl in around her or cop a feel. It was familiar and Vanessa hoped Amanda realized it as well.
"Not any more," Amanda replied with an equally flirtatious grin. "Fellow traveller, eh? Feel up to sharing stories?" She nudged 'Sandor' gently in the ribs with her elbow, the same way she usually responded to Morgan's particular 'greeting'.
A smile curled onto the man's lips, smug and cocky where Vanessa would have been confident. It was a reaction to the elbow, not the words. Amanda knew who she was dealing with, brilliant! "Yes, a fellow traveller. With you, my beauty, I would do more than share stories. With you I would create them."
"You're a smooth talker, aren't you? Pull up a pew and have a drink with me and we'll see where things lead us, yeah. You never know, you might find out all sorts of secrets." She waved to the barman to bring another drink and shifted on her stool slightly to give her new companion room.
"A pew?" Vanessa grinned and pulled a stool over to sit by Amanda's side. "If it's church we're in I should tell you I only pray on my knees." She couldn't help it, church innuendo was just too good to pass up any day of the week.
Amanda laughed, a merry peal of sound that drew the attention of a couple of the locals, who rolled their eyes or shook their heads and returned to their own drinking. "I might have to hold you to that," she said as the barman brought over another drink. "Cheers," she said, holding up her glass. She wanted to make sure the ruse was sufficient that no-one would pay attention to the two foreigners flirting in the corner.
Sandor's hand lifted his own glass and clinked it against Amanda's. He gave the blonde woman a nod and said, "Cheers, my beauty." Then Vanessa took a deep enough pull that she was sure Sandor's insides were going to be eaten away by the liquid. Jesus fuck, that shit just never got any better, did it? Everyone nearby seemed to be ignoring them by time Sandor moved his arm down so his hand could rest against Amanda's lower back.
"I like the beard," Amanda said in a low, intimate voice with another flirty smile. "Is there a name to go with it?"
"Shaun-door," Vanessa responded, enunciating it clearly for the supposed foreigner. The urge to give Amanda horrifically cheesy lines really should be crushed. It should be squashed post haste! But it wasn't going to be. "And what shall I be calling you? I should make sure I use the correct name in prayer." He smirked at her.
"You mean 'oh God' isn't enough?" Amanda sipped at her drink, repressing the urge to shudder - it really was vile. "You can call me Sadie. Sadie Spears." It was another of Remy's awful passport names, which she was actually enjoying now.
"Are you a sadist, Sadie?" His voice was low and suggestive, as if Sandor was hoping he'd found the dominatrix of his dreams. "I have been very bad boy."
"You stick with me, Sandor and I can get you into all sorts of trouble," she replied, winking. "But first, you have to do a little something for me... I'd love to hear more about where you've been, the people you've met. It might help me plan my next trip."
"I've been many places. Went to Russia recently. Met a man who you cannot meet. Obviously, I did not meet him either. I thought he was President maybe, or leader like that. More guards than American President or Pope. British Queen walks around with less guards. You should see the guns they have. Big guns. Lots of little guns but you're not supposed to see them." Vanessa tapped his temple and smiled a lot. "But Sandor's eyes are better than most people's."
"See, I tend to think there's a way around everything. Nothing too well guarded if you're determined to get your souvenir." Amanda swirled her drink around in her glass. "No back doors or servant's entrances or the like?"
Sandor frowned and shook his head. "Not that you can get through. Russians, they are a very paranoid people. Russian technology, it's not always so pretty these days but some people can buy foreign. This untouchable man in Russia? He can afford to import. All over the world I haven't seen security systems like this. You get in you aren't getting out. Russians," he cringed, "not known for their patience without their sadism. Not known for not having sadism without short tempers. It's not such a good idea." At least the Russians in question here weren't known for being patient, gentle, tree-hugging folk.
Amanda pouted, mind working furiously behind the couquettish expression. If Morgan was saying there was no way in, at least not without a way out, then they were in trouble. There wasn't enough power here for her to use any spells that would help and the teleporting was an exercise in random distribution. "You'd be surprised at what a pretty face and a low cut dress can do," she told Sandor with a slightly wicked smile. "Everyone likes a pretty girl, don't they?"
Sandor's head tipped to the side. Was she really suggesting what Vanessa thought she was? Jesus, she hated when jobs went that way. But Sandor nodded, a smug smirk on his face that didn't match the feeling like led in Vanessa's stomach. "Only if they are not fans of the man sex."
So, there was the possibility of an in. Amanda had a rough idea of Morgan's reaction to the suggestion, but unless they got those access codes, they were fucked. "Even a man you can't meet has his needs, after all." She trailed a finger up Sandor's arm. "The thing is, tho', arranging introductions. Tricky when he doesn't seem to leave his hidey hole."
"He doesn't," she replied with confidence. Sandor's eyes followed Amanda's finger up his arm while Vanessa thought. He was covered by security whenever he left. There was no in to the house that could get you back out alive. Neither of them could turn into a bloody cloud, now there would be a handy mutation right now. He didn't even go grocery shopping. Sandor quirked an eyebrow at her, eyes flicking up to catch her gaze. "No, but this is why you employ lackeys. Lackeys leave the hidey hole. They come back with what you need. Even on lonely nights, they come back with what you want or they don't come back."
Amanda smiled, slow and seductive. "Well then. Sounds like a lark." She met Sandor's eyes, expression flicking to momentarily serious. "You up for it? I could use an extra pair of hands, to fetch and carry." We both go in, I'll keep him occupied, you get the codes. She hoped Morgan understood her meaning - she hated this kind of double speak for important things.
Vanessa watched Amanda closely for a moment. Her eyes went from the other woman's to her neck, her shoulders, the set of her jaw and then back up to her eyes. "I'm a strapping man, I can carry." Because if she was lifting the intel it meant the faster she got it the quicker Amanda could get out. She might not have to go through with it. Vanessa knew they both knew, though, that it didn't matter who ended up in the bedroom. They'd go through with it. Anything else was too suspicious.
Amanda raised her glass again. "Sounds like we've got a plan, eh, Sandor?"
"To prayer," he toasted, mostly because Vanessa needed to lighten the mood. She touched her glass to Amanda's and took another swig of that foul alcohol.
***
This was the job of a thousand Vanessas. She'd had to swap out Sandor for a pretty Greek girl of about eighteen earlier. If you wanted to get close to a man so you could knock him unconscious and steal his body it was always easier when you were a pretty girl. Amanda was right about that. They watched the lackey in charge of collecting his master's pussy for the night leave the property in a sleek, black Mercedes. She'd been hoping he'd stop somewhere on the way but he didn't which meant they were going to have to get him out of the club with them so they could make their move. Either that or no one was using the bathroom for a while.
Vanessa parked a block and a half down from their target and watched him cross the street toward the club. "He really can't think up anywhere better to pick up women?" She shook her head, then she looked over at Amanda. "You ready, pet?"
"It's not like he's got a lot of options," Amanda answered wryly, using humour to cover her nerves. It wasn't going to be the first time she'd done something like this, but it had been a while. She tugged at her bra, pushing her breasts up higher in the low-cut blouse. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. Between the low blouse and the short skirt, there was a lot of pale, creamy skin visible, off-set by the scarlet lipstick she had on. "How do I look?"
"Biased opinion," Vanessa told her smoothly. "I'm pretty much always ready to pray at your altar." She grinned and winked at her friend, hoping it would help calm her. "You look like a tart, really, but a very tasty one." Another smile and then she climbed out of the car. The door locked and was shut behind her while she waited for Amanda to come around. The pair made their way across the street, Vanessa slipping her hand into Amanda's because any man that loved tits liked two pairs of them together.
"'S just like falling off a bicycle," Amanda murmured in response, squeezing Morgan's hand in gratitude. Now they were moving, the nerves were subsiding - Amanda always hated waiting. As they entered the club, the Brit allowed another of those slow seductive smiles to cross her face. "We should try this at Silver sometime. I do like being the center of attention, and with you hanging off my arm, they don't stand a chance."
A hand stroked down Amanda's hair and Vanessa placed a kiss on her neck. "They'd never know what to do with us either, pet." Her smile was all flirtation and mischief, the look in her eyes clearly stating she was thinking of where she could get the woman by her side to herself. Vanessa looked around to see several men watching them already. Blatant acts of lesbianism never went unnoticed by the male population. She couldn't see their target, though, and she didn't want to make it obvious she was looking for anyone. Bedroom eyes focused on a man over Amanda's shoulder and she spoke into the blonde's ear, "Do you see him?"
Shivering at the touch of lips on her neck, Amanda nuzzled Morgan's ear, glad the shapeshifter was wearing body she wasn't dwarfed by for a change. "Over by the corner of the bar. He's found himself a good spot to watch the place, see what's on offer. Time for a drink, you think?"
"Mmhm. Definitely time for a drink." Vanessa raised Amanda's hand to her lips, brushing a kiss across the back of it, and gave a girlish giggle. "I love making friends." She playfully tugged Amanda along to the bar. As they drew closer she spotted the man they were after easily enough. Vanessa squirmed up to the bar and placed them both directly in his line of sight as she smiled at the bartender and flagged him for his attention.
Out of the corner of her eye, as she tipped her head back and laughed along with Morgan, Amanda caught their man's attention switching to them, practically feeling his eyes crawling over her. "Bingo," she murmured to her companion, holding up her glass. "Za Vas!" she said, a simple Russian toast calculated to secure his attention.
It worked. He blinked, a brief, predatory smile crossing his face.
Vanessa knew nothing of Russian aside from how to say "yes." She could recognize the accent of it in Amanda's words easily enough, though and she raised her glass in kind. "Za Vas!" she echoed, letting her glass touch Amanda's briefly. Her eyes remained on Amanda as she took a drink, but her position shifted slightly so she could catch their target in the periphery of her vision. Drunk girls were easy targets and if the pair of them seemed to have a low tolerance for alcohol it'd probably get him over to them more quickly. Vanessa could pull him off somewhere for a bit of fun, knock him out, steal his body and his clothes, but it was so much easier to do once they got him to leave with them.
For her part, Amanda knocked back half her drink and made a show of coughing and spluttering. "Whee! That's some strong stuff!" she exclaimed to her companion. Perhaps she was overdoing it, but regular attendance at Silver had given her a lot of college students to study. "Perfect party fuel!" As she placed the glass back on the bar, she noticed the bartender was already lining up another pair of drinks.
"Gift from the man at the end of the bar," he said in his stitled English, nodding at their target, who raised his own glass when the pair glanced at him.
Vanessa raised her glass to the man and giggled. Her first drink was shot back and she shook her head, face scrunching up in response to the bite of the alcohol. "I think we should go thank the nice man for our drinks," she told Amanda, giggling still and nudging the blonde with her hip. Vanessa picked up the new drink and then slid Amanda's closer. Her eyes were on the target, attention rapt now that he'd called it to himself.
"~So, you are Russian?~" he asked in that language, and Amanda giggled and shook her head.
"~Oh no. I'm English, but I've studied it. My friend doesn't know it at all,~" she replied in kind, before switching to English. "We're on holidays. Seeing the world, you know? My name's Molly. Molly Desmond. Thank you for the drink."
"You are welcome." The man's English was thickly accented, but serviceable. "My pleasure, for two such pretty girls." He glanced over at Morgan with an expectant air.
Vanessa smiled coyly at him. She sat down beside him close enough that her leg pressed up against his. "I'm Stacey. What's your name?" She was chewing on her lip, giving him big, innocent eyes. It was clearly her playing schoolgirl for him, but Vanessa was sure he wouldn't mind it.
From his expression, he certainly didn't. It wasn't hard to tell what dilemma he was trying to solve in his mind - which one for him, which one for his boss? - and his eyes flicked to Stacey's breasts before he answered. "Boris. So, you girls are looking for the party, da?"
"Da," Amanda replied with a giggle, hanging back just a little to let Morgan work her wiles. "You don't know of anywhere that's fun, do you? Symkaria's not exactly a social hotspot."
"I might." He looked at Stacey again. "Tell me, pretty one, would you like to go to the party with me?"
She blinked big eyes at him, mouth curling into a smile even as she sipped at her drink. Giggling, she replied, "Da, I want to go with you." She emphasized the last word gently, making the point that she wanted Boris more than the party. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth and she wiggled a bit where she sat next to him.
Vanessa loved how entirely easy men were some days. As long as you didn't mind dangling yourself off a hook, anyway. Fingers trailing up his thigh from his knee, Vanessa asked, "You wanna go...like...now?" Her expression promised a host of things one shouldn't necessarily do in public places.
"You are in a hurry, pretty?" He nodded at the bartender, who set down three more drinks and the bill. "And do not worry, Miss Molly of England. There will be plenty of fun for you. I have this friend who would very much like to meet you."
"If he's as good-looking as you, I don't think I'll be complaining," Amanda said with her own flirtatious smile as she tossed back the drink in front of her and reached for the third, glad she had the tolerance of a much larger person from years of drinking despite her young age. "What do you think, Stacey? Up for it?"
Worrying her lower lip still, Vanessa flicked her borrowed eyes from Boris to Amanda, back to the man and then finally settled on her friend. "I want to go. It's been so boring here." She looked back to Boris coyly. "You'll make sure I'm not bored though, right? I mean, you wouldn't do that to me, I don't think." Her fingers continued to trail in lazy lines along his thigh, sometimes dipped down suggestively close to more interesting parts of his trousers.
Boris swallowed heavily, reaching for his own drink and slamming it back hurriedly before pulling out his wallet and throwing a number of notes on the bar. "Let's go, da? And maybe, in the car, we can have our own party first." His arm curled around Stacey's waist as he rose, hand dropping to squeeze her ass. With his other hand, he beckoned Amanda closer, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "This place, it is very special. Not everyone can go there," he said expansively, steering them towards the door.
"We'll have to make sure we show our appreciation then, won't we?" Amanda purred, tucking her own hand into Boris' back pocket. "Since you're being so kind to us and all."
Vanessa was slower killing off her own drink, but it was gone before Boris' hand got to her ass. She had to admit, the body she was borrowing did have a really nice ass. She leaned into the Russian, much closer than necessary or really practical for movement and draped her arm around his shoulders. The short stature made her barely able to manage it comfortably. "We're very good at showing appreciation. And very thorough about it. It could take ages for us to finish showing it."
His hand tightened on her ass, squeezing almost roughly. "We have some time. My friend, he is not expecting anyone for one or two hours."
Vanessa gave a girlish squeak in response to how much harder he was grabbing her. She had to remind herself not to punch him, actually. "So we can have our own party first?" Her voice had dipped down low. It match the motion of her hand as it hooked behind Boris' belt buckle as she rotated her body in front of him and walked backward. "Might not be enough time for my sort of party but we'll see what we can do," she promised.
***
Stuffing a body into a trunk was a lot easier when you, yourself, were larger in stature. Vanessa's borrowed Greek girl was a bit of a pain in the arse when it came to knocking Boris, the man with grabby hands out. Then she got to find an alley where she could strip him, strip herself, steal his clothes and sit around with her hands on him for a bloody hour and a half. That bit was always so bloody dull. At least she had company.
"Das vi danya comrade," Vanessa said with Boris' appropriated accent as she tucked his arm inside and shut the trunk on him.
Amanda stretched out her back - Boris had been heavy. "Good riddance to bad rubbish," she agreed. "'S almost enough to make you swear off men, dealing with a stereotype like this one. How's the body sitting?"
Vanessa shrugged. "Like a body," she answered in an accent that was more heavily Bostonian than Morgan tended to speak with. "Y'know, it's like just putting on a new outfit. It's sort of shiny and new and neat so it feels nice to slip into and then it's just clothes. Let's get this done, yeah?"
The witch nodded tightly - the interest in Morgan's powers had been an unconscious delaying tactic, she knew, and there was a job to be done. She yanked open the back door of the car. "Drive on, James," she said, affecting a posh British accent as she slid inside.
"Yes, ma'am," Vanessa replied, accent slipping back into Boris' thick Russian. She drove the pair of them back to their target's house, getting through security easily with a bit of help from Boris' psi-patterns on top of all the surveillance.
A man walked up to them in the hall and nodded at the girl. "She's here for party with the boss," Vanessa told him. "You know where he's waiting?" The man directed them up to the next floor and down the hall into an enormous master bedroom.
"You're sure?" Vanessa asked in a whisper to Amanda. "I can always mimic you and you can slink about to get the codes." This was Amanda's last chance to bow out of the end of the deal she'd taken on.
"Too risky," Amanda whispered back. "If I'm spotted, the shit will hit the fan and we're all fucked." Footsteps approached and she yanked her blouse down further, breasts nearly spilling out of it. "Go on. I'll be fine. 'S just another job, yeah?"
"Yeah," Vanessa nodded. "Just another job." Vanessa bowed Boris' head to her friend and then went off to do her job. Amanda made her choice, they'd both deal with any consequences from it. Vanessa knew that and she trusted the other woman. It was time to get to work.
