one
Liz appears on a blurry monitor streaming hacked live security footage, her ponytail bouncing with every step she takes. She taps her thigh with her hand three times: a signal that she’s all clear to move forward.
“Okay, Lizard, this is Gwen coming to you loud and clear from our ever dusty van, ready to go over the basics. You already know this, but this is a super quick collection mission. Get your flirt on, grab what you need, and get back in the van. As always, keep your arms and legs inside of the vehicle at all times.” Gwen fakes a reflective sigh. “We believe in you, soldier.”
Liz scratches a nail directly over her mic, causing Gwen to flinch from the feedback.
…
“No.”
“C’mon Liz, you have to!”
“No, , I’m not doing that, I can’t-”
“It’s the only angle we have!”
“Then get Michelle to figure out another one!” Liz is standing up now, walking over the other end of the briefing room in a huff.
Gwen responds by speedily opening up her laptop and projecting a series of pictures onto the far wall.
“No, okay, look.” Gwen seems to produce a laser pointer out of thin air and directs it towards a picture of a young woman smiling at a graduation ceremony. “This is our receptionist. Her name is Rowan, and three weeks ago, she broke up with her girlfriend, Amiyah.” The laser is now rapidly circling a picture of two women wrapped up in each other at the edge of a pier, the taller one, presumably the ex in question, feeding the other pink cotton candy.
“Now, you don’t look exactly like her. In fact, you’d only really be confused for her if the pictures were like, really blurry. Like, I’m talking grandma with lenses as thick as magazines-“
“What’s your point, Gwen?” It’s MJ who interrupts her this time, breaking her silence with a scathing side eye, her voice venomous.
Gwen turns away from the computer, and stares holes into MJ until she shifts. “What I’m trying to say is that this girl is currently four levels deep into the seven stages of grief, and Liz could be her ‘upward turn’.”
Liz crosses her arms.
“What do you have in mind?”
Gwen speaks with an ever present determination. “Nothing too crazy! Just some light flirting, enough to convince her to look the other way while you grab a couple floor plans for me.”
Liz sighs, and looks over at MJ, who is sporting an Oscar-worthy poker face.
“C’mon, Liz, it’s for a good cause.” Gwen pleads, bringing her hands together.
Liz bites her lip, never letting her unreadable gaze shift, as if she’s reading Michelle’s every move.
“Okay.”
…
As much as Liz insists that she hates using seduction as a tactic, MJ can't help but notice that she never fails to commit to it the same way she would commit to an academic study.
“Can I help you?”
Liz steps forward to the front desk and removes her hands from her pockets.
“Yes, you can actually.” MJ can’t see it, but she thinks that Liz is smiling softly. “My name is, uh, Maya Allan, I’m actually studying Architecture right now. I was hoping that I could get a hold of some preliminary blueprints and floor plans of this building to use in my final independent study this year, the tech in this building is next level, I’d love to study it.”
Liz lingers on those words, training her eyes as if to study the woman in front of her, who MJ can see is shifting after a few moments under Liz’s gaze, probably struggling to compose herself.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not able to hand out anything like that to the public. If you’d like I could schedule you an appointment with one of my higher ups to try and get access to some digital content that we provide to our shareholders, I could probably get you in next week-“ the receptionist busies herself with her monitor as if to avoid making eye contact with Liz.
"C'mon,"
Liz sets her hands onto the young receptionist's desk, tapping her fingers lightly as she leans forward, the arch of her back causing her strategically chosen tight pale yellow turtleneck to reveal a steady strip of shimmering skin, courtesy of Gwen’s highlighter obsession. She smirks and bats her eyelashes, moving her head side to side.
"I know that you can help me get what I need."
Fuck.
It’s at this point that MJ tunes out from what she’s watching, because otherwise she would be dealing with a lot of feelings that she likely shouldn’t be dealing with in a stuffy stealth vehicle. Besides, Gwen is already trying and failing to subtly glance over at her to see how she’s doing.
“You doing okay there, MJ?” Gwen’s voice is muffled by a pen between her teeth as she stares calculatedly at the statistics on one of the many monitors lining the inside of the vehicle, but the pure amusement that she gains from the whole situation is evident.
“I’m fine, Gwen.”
“Are you sure? Because you seem a bit tense-“ she stops when MJ swats her back lightly with a handful of file folders. “Okay, fine, don’t comment on the obvious tension between my teammates, got it.”
MJ’s fine. Everything’s fine. The flush on her neck is from the lack of air conditioning in the van, nothing else. Seriously, when did it get so hot?
MJ brings her attention back to the files in her hand, arranging them across a makeshift shelf that folds down like a baby-changing station, occasionally picking up particular pieces and pinning them to a brown corkboard.
If you were to ask MJ, the biggest culture shock coming into her new life as a spy was learning that in the real world of espionage, not every crime could be solved with brute force, dumb-luck, or a well trained animal sidekick. They all reacted differently to the revelation: Gwen started working on her combat skills, Liz plunged herself into research and development, and Michelle? Michelle leaned into what she knew best: solving mysteries, and being the type of person no one truly knew. She sifted through case files and became a master of disguise, solving mysteries as much as she turned herself into one. What she’ll never admit is that of all the cases that she had worked over the past couple years, Liz proves to be both the most captivating and most confusing mystery of all.
“She’s in.”
A quick glance over to the security feed shows that Liz is following the receptionist, posture perfect with her shoulders shaking through a gentle laugh. She quickly turns her around to make eye contact with the security camera and wink. It would dangerous if they didn’t know better: corporate security guards tune out after the first 20 minutes of their shifts.
Gwen catches MJ’s staring at the screen and takes off her headset.
“So you don’t want to talk about it?”
MJ stands unnaturally still, almost as if she’s hoping to blend in with the equipment stacked around her.
“...Talk about what?”
Gwen gives her a look that says cut the bullshit.
“We both know that you’re not jealous of Liz right now, you hate flirting. Actually, you know what? You should count yourself lucky! Liz is what, an inch shorter than you? I could have easily insisted we put you in a dark haired wig and then sent you out there, but no, I had mercy, and what do I get for it? You, brooding in silence and staring into the distance like this is a sad music video.”
MJ returns her gaze to her table and begins reorganizing employee information files from the corporation they were currently visiting. “I’m way better at being intimidating than being pretty, you might need me for later. On the other hand, Liz is really good at being pretty. I’m just admiring her work. That’s all this is. Professional admiration.”
Gwen purses her lips to hide a smirk. “I never said that Liz was being pretty.”
MJ freezes. “Shut up.”
Gwen breaks out into a smile and claps with a laugh. “I got you! Oh my god! God, I can’t even believe-”
“I said shut up Gwen, I swear on Ned’s life-”
“I’d like to thank the Academy, my mom, Ned, Peter, Liz, of course… I can’t even fathom- god, you are so hopeless, you really need to talk to her or something-” Michelle puts down her files and leans on her table, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.
“It’s not like that Gwen, and you know it.”
Gwen puts her headset back on, saying, “Sorry Michael Jackson, I can’t hear you over the sound of me being right and you being head over heels, it really is a shame,” she gestures to herself and to the monitors, shrugging her arms and fading out her voice as if she was being put on mute.
The next thing she knows, Liz is climbing in through the back doors of the van, a breathless smile playing at her lips.
“I swear we need to get paid more for this.” She holds a blue USB key that she tosses over to Gwen who catches it effortlessly, plugging it into one of her screens.
“Wait, you’re getting paid?”