DISCLAIMER: D.E.B.S. and its characters are the property of Angela Robinson. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By ralst


Amy looked down at the plaid skirt and knee-high socks lying, scattered, across the bedspread. They had formed an integral part of her uniform as a D.E.B. but in the eight months since End Game and her new life with Lucy, they'd become nothing but a distant memory. Until now.


Amy didn't think her girlfriend was responsible for the familiar clothing but she couldn't rule out the possibility that her mischievous lover had decided it was time for a little role-play; their pirate and damsel costumes had become a little war torn after an exceptionally frantic bout of play the week before and Lucy was nothing if not inventive.

"You called?" Lucy's smile dimmed as she caught sight of the plaid lying accusingly on the bed. "What's with the costume?"

"You didn't put it here?"


They crowded around the bed, both their gazes fixed on the innocent looking apparel.

"Are Scud and Janet visiting?"

Lucy shook her head. She'd spoken with Scud that morning and he'd never mentioned coming to visit and he always gave her at least twenty-four hours notice; the first time he arrived unannounced and woke up two days later to a severe concussion and an apologetic looking Amy, had taught him his lesson.

"Max?" Lucy asked, a slight weariness entering her voice.

"She's leading a raid on a band of Colombian drug smugglers this week." Amy smiled as she remembered the excitement in Max's voice as she described the dangers she'd be facing. "She promised to send a postcard."

"And Dominique is still in rehab?"

"Sex addiction is a hard thing to break."

"Especially if you're locked up in a room filled with other sex addicts," Lucy murmured.

The most likely possessors of plaid eliminated, the pair were left staring at the bed in confusion. It was unlikely that Ms. Petrie would send any of the other D.E.B.S. to apprehend them; Lucy's changed behaviour and the pair's superior fighting skills would lessen the chances of glory too much for her to bother while they were out of the country. The idea of a rogue D.E.B. couldn't be entirely banished but neither of them had heard of any psycho recruits passing through the academy of late; with the exception, of course, of the already accounted for Max.

"Should I call for a bomb disposal team?" Lucy asked.

"You can do that?"

"Sure." Lucy shrugged and tried to look as if having a bomb disposal team on standby was normal. "Paolo could be here in an hour."

Amy's left eye twitched as she remembered the all agency alert that had been put into place the year before, calling for the immediate apprehension of one Paolo Jones, a notorious explosives expert who was known to have a penchant for blowing up bank vaults and escaping with their contents.

"I don't think that will be necessary." She poked at the skirt and tried not to flinch in anticipation of the bang. "See, totally harmless."

Lucy would have said something about the wisdom of poking at suspected bombs but she knew she was already on thin ice over the Paolo disclosure; her promise to leave the criminal underworld had included a caveat about not socialising with other criminals, Scud not included, if she expected to be welcomed back into their bed any time soon.

The skirt now firmly in hand, Amy began examining the seams and sniffing, rather worryingly, at the material.

"Please tell me you don't go around sniffing any old piece of clothing you find on the street."

Amy put on her 'I'm a highly trained secret agent and you're a lowly criminal' face; the one Lucy had dubbed her 'smelling the bullshit' pose, before waving the skirt in front of Lucy's face.

"Smell it."

Taking a step back, Lucy tried to avoid the advancing cheerleader wannabe, but Amy's waving skirt chased after her like a demented ghost.

"Smell it."

Lucy sniffed; she planned to disinfect her nostrils at a later date. The faint aroma tickled at the back of her mind as she began to recognise the scent.


"It smells like you?"

Amy beamed with pride. "Traces of both my perfume and the detergent we used to use at the old house." Her smile faded. "How did it get here?"

Lucy's shrug was the picture of innocence and Amy knew at once that she was guilt of something.


Lucy's smile faded as she was confronted with an accusing look. "I might have broken into your house before End Game and borrowed a few things," she mumbled.


"I would have returned them... Eventually."

Amy's lips thinned and she did her best to glower at her lover but one look at Lucy's artfully formed pout was enough to prompt a smirk from the blonde. "Why didn't you just tell me you'd put the clothes on the bed?"

"I didn't."

"But you just said -"

"I might have stolen the clothes," Lucy admitted, "but I haven't touched them since we moved to Barcelona." She took the skirt from Amy's hand and examined it more closely. "The last time I saw any of your things they were being packed away into a box."

Amy silently prayed that Lucy hadn't absconded with any of her panties, because the thought of Scud folding them into a little box was somewhat worrying. "Where did you keep the box?"

Pointing towards the furthest cupboard, Lucy said, "Up there, with the photograph albums your mother sent."



With a big smile, Amy tried to divert Lucy's attention away from all things plaid. "How about we go out to dinner tonight? My treat." When Lucy just looked at her she was forced to add, "We can go to that place on the marina that you love." Lucy didn't so much as blink. "Oh, all right, I might have asked Maria to clean out those cupboards and throw away all the junk." There were several photos of Amy in pigtails and florescent clothing that she was hoping would disappear forever. "I didn't know you were storing my cast-offs in there."

With a superior smile, Lucy handed the skirt back to Amy. "Try it on."

"No." Arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place, Amy did her best to look intractable. "I won't."

But an arched eyebrow and pointed look towards the cupboard soon changed Amy's mind and within minutes she was standing there, resplendent in her former uniform, a pissed off look on her face.

Lucy stepped closer and, with an ease born of experience, lowered the zipper at the back of the skirt. "Now, let's see how long it takes me to get you out of these."

Amy would have protested the pointlessness of putting on the uniform, just to have Lucy discard it moments later, but before the thought could take form on her lips, she was overcome by a very amorous former criminal and soon both her thoughts and her lips were put to far better uses.

The End

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