Permission to Wed

Miranda Newman

"Seriously, Stan," I try once again to get my boss's attention. I think he purposely annoyed me.

"I've already told you, Miranda, until you learn to control yourself, I won't let you go on another mission. We lost a lot last time because of your..."

"I know, impatience," I interrupt, rolling my eyes.

"I was going to say stupidity, but impatience works," he says, smiling and making me look like an idiot. Stupidity? I saved the damn mission. Okay, maybe I let the criminal escape and the warehouse caught fire because of me, but hey, I brought the victim back alive (let's ignore the sprained ankle when I pushed her down the stairs so she could escape). That counts for something, right? Well, not in the eyes of my annoying boss.

"And what do you expect me to do?" I ask irritably, crossing my arms.

"I don't know, maybe try yoga?" he says, smiling. Yoga? Do I even have time for yoga?

I huff in frustration and turn my back to that insolent creature.

I walk through the corridors, ignoring the whispers, and go straight to my office to finish some reports. It seems that's all I'll be doing from now on.

I've been trying for a while to write the report without making it seem like that night was such a disaster.

Despite everything, Stan is right... just a little bit.

"Well, well, if it isn't our little pretender returning,"

I look at the door and see Adam leaning against the frame.

"Not now, Adam," I say impatiently.

"What did the boss do this time?" he asks, smiling. "Or rather, what did you do this time?"

I groan in disgust. Do I have such a bad reputation?

"Operation Monroe," I say quietly.

Adam's eyes widen in shock, then he bursts into loud laughter.

"Are you kidding me?" he asks, breathless. "You're the girl who screwed up the whole mission?" he asks while trying to catch his breath.

"I didn't screw up the whole mission," I exclaim, exasperated. "Okay, maybe I messed up a bit."

"Newman, you set the place on fire while that bastard Monroe escaped... If that's not screwing up the mission, I don't know what is," Adam mocks. I grit my teeth. Enough is enough.

"I'm going to set your pants on fire if you don't stop bothering me and get out of here," I threaten.

Adam grimaces; he knows I'm capable of doing it. "I wish you would set my pants on fire, but not like that," he jokes in a low voice.

Adam used to be a very introverted guy, but years of friendship have made him more comfortable joking and teasing about the little crush he had on me in the past.

The problem is, his teasing is the last thing I need right now. I grab the first object I see in front of me and throw it at him.

Adam groans when my agenda hits his head.

At least my aim is still perfect, a small consolation for what's left of my dignity.

"See? That's what it's about, Miranda," he says as he rubs his reddened forehead. "You're one of the brightest agents I know, but you can't control your impulses." He sighs and picks up my agenda from the floor, bringing it back to the table. "Better luck next time, little pretender" With that, Adam turns around and leaves.

I hate to admit it, but even Adam is right. Maybe yoga isn't such a bad idea after all.

I sigh and continue my frustrating attempt to finish the report, even though I hate every second of this bureaucratic work.

***

A few weeks pass, and I continue to do reports. Stan really went all out with my punishment. I try to vent my frustration in the training room, and it's in the middle of a strike that I hear footsteps behind me.

I continue my training, ignoring whoever it is. My anger hasn't subsided yet.

"Newman!" Stan shouts. "Stop imagining my face on that punching bag and get your ass over here."

I deliver one more kick just to make it clear that it's his face I'm seeing there. I grab a towel and wipe my face as I walk towards him.

Stan is in a bad mood, as always, but the big news is the guy next to him. I take a good look.

Tall, silky brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a body I could have a lot of fun with.

Not bad, handsome, not bad at all. Although he looks too serious, like a complete bore, the guy is damn hot.

"Already missing me at this time of day?" I mockingly ask my boss.

Stan rolls his eyes.

"Cut the crap, Newman. It seems luck is smiling at you, girl. This is Agent Dominic Green, your new partner and trainer," he says, pointing to the said agent, who nods briefly at me without abandoning his serious posture.

"Wow, slow down there, Stan. Partner is one thing, but trainer? I'm perfectly trained, as far as I know," I say, crossing my arms, challenging him to contradict me.

Stan huffs and runs his hand through his thinning hair, clearly a gesture of irritation.

"That's not what Operation Monroe showed," he says. Touché, Stan.

I prepare to protest again, but he continues.

"Look, Newman, it's either this or you go back to doing reports. There's a new mission, and they need your...," he stares at me mockingly, "...skills. Make it easy for me, okay?" he asks, leaving me without arguments.

It was true that I was already fed up with reports, so I couldn't let this chance slip by. Besides, if they specifically requested my skills, it must be something big.

"Fine," I say, defeated.

Stan smiles and leaves the room, leaving me alone with this Dominic guy. I smile at him, trying to look innocent.

"Listen, partner," I start, emphasizing the word "partner." He raises an eyebrow at that. "That mission he mentioned wasn't a big deal. Let's forget about this whole trainer thing, okay?" I offer, hopeful.

Dominic stares at me for a moment, and I swear I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. Was that a British accent? God, could this man be any more attractive?

"I read the report, Agent Newman," he says. Was that a hint of a smile? "Whether you like it or not, I'll be your trainer and partner in ways you can't even imagine. See you here tomorrow at five for training. Goodbye." And with that, he simply walks away.

What the hell just happened here?