"Morning, Jessica. Looking good."

"Thanks, Mike."

Jessica Lawson smiled her thanks as her fellow agent held the door open for her. Carrying on down the corridor, she could feel his eyes following her. Her polite smile grew into one of genuine happiness, a response strengthened by her burgeoning sense of self worth.

Recruited straight from the language faculty at Harvard University, she'd been working in the Washington office of CI5 for three months. Ignoring the derogative comments from her family and their stifling need to protect the 'baby' of their clan, she'd jumped at the chance to join the security agency.

She hankered after a life of excitement, something that would help her break out of the life of privilege that she'd been brought up in. And there was the shock element too, an aspect of her personality that deep down she was uncomfortable with but at the same time revelled in. She had an overwhelming urge to make her family look up to her, to flout her independence.

Not that she was doing much flouting now. Although she was beginning to be recognised around the office, as Mike had just proved, she was still being given all the shit jobs to do. She very much doubted that a female agent in the London office would have to run around after Harry Malone, responding like a faithful puppy dog to his every command like she was doing now for the head of the Washington office, Tom Berry.

Pushing through the final set of glass doors, she headed out into the foyer. Security had phoned to say that the latest secondee from London had arrived and Berry had sent her to meet and greet him. God forbid that he'd get off his ass and do the job himself. Fat chance. The fact that the London office was still regarded as the centre of the CI5 organisation rankled badly with the ex-CIA man. Malone's sudden announcement that he was seconding one of his agents to the Washington office without any consultation rankled even worse.

"Miss Lawson?"

Responding to the security guard's summons, Jessica walked over to the front desk. "Someone called up to say Mr Curtis was here."

The security guard responded with a nod of his head. "Over there ma'am."

"Thanks." She turned, heading for the leather upholstered chairs by the main entrance where all guests were left to wallow until some kind soul rescued them.

Only one of the chairs was occupied, she noticed belatedly as she forced a welcoming smile on her face. The occupant had his back to her but rose from his seat as she approached.

"Hello. I think you're looking for me."

Her rehearsed words of welcome died on her lips as she came face to face with the English agent. She remembered hearing the phrase 'dashingly handsome' somewhere and it fitted this man perfectly. Dark brown hair, startling green eyes and lips that were just begging to be kissed.

"I'm Sam Curtis."

Those infinitely kissable lips were now curling upwards in the beginnings of a smile, the green eyes studying her with mild curiosity. With a start, she realised he was offering her his hand and with an effort she pulled herself together.

"Jessica Lawson." She took the proffered hand and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Jessica."

Jessica felt her smile growing to ridiculous proportions and she tempered it with a strong mental rebuke. He was cute but not that cute, she told herself sternly, looking for some imperfection in the man in front of her that would cool her rapidly rising temperature a few degrees. Her eyes settled on his nose.

Too long for his face. Definitely too long for his face.

Resisting the urge to nod to herself, she inwardly patted herself on the back instead. Suddenly feeling more in control of the situation, she met his eyes once more. He was watching her intently now, his mild curiosity of moments before replaced by gentle amusement, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.

Embarrassed at his reaction but even more embarrassed at her own behaviour, she forced herself again to concentrate on the job at hand.

"Would you like to come through? The Chief is waiting for you." Two coherent sentences and she sounded amazingly calm to her own ears.

The polite smile grew into a full blown grin as Curtis indicated that she should go ahead. "After you."

Taking her cue, she walked ahead of him. Pushing back through the glass doors, she held one open for him, purposely not looking at his face as he brushed passed her. Not that that helped much. One look at the expensively cut suit that was draped over his body and her mind was immediately fantasising over what the material covered.

Concentrate, girl, concentrate, she admonished herself sternly as they headed for the main office. Fixing a neutral smile on her face, she looked sideways at him.

"So, Mr Curtis, did you have a good journey?"

**************

She managed to keep up the inane banter all the way to the office and as the English agent entered Berry's office and closed the door behind him, she let out a sigh of relief. Not her most professional performance, she reflected as she walked back to her desk but not her worst either. The incident during her first week with the Drug Enforcement Agency's Rottweiler and the LSD was going to take some beating.

"So? What's he like?"

A familiar female voice brought her out of her reverie just as she reached her desk and flopped down into her chair.

"What was who like?" Jessica retorted, struggling to keep a straight face as the woman sitting at the desk opposite her gave her an impatient glare.

"You know who I mean, Jess. The English guy!"

"He's cute, Mary. Very cute," Jessica told the older woman.

"Jeez, Jess, half the guys in this office are kinda cute. Are we talking drop dead cute in a George Clooney way or not bad looking in a Matt LeBlanc way?"

Laughing, Jessica pretended to give the question some thought. "Mmmm.I don't know, I wasn't looking that hard. Sorta Hugh Grant mixed with Pierce Brosnan, I guess."

Mary's eyes widened with surprise. "Really? *That* cute?"

Jessica shrugged non-committedly, taking a sudden interest in a file on her desk. "Could be."

"Wow."

Her expression distracted as she considered the benefits of a Hugh Grant/Pierce Brosnan lookalike, Mary was about to share her thoughts with Jessica when one of their male colleagues joined them.

"What are you wowing about now, Mary? It's not another one of those George Clooney swimsuit shots is it, cos that stuff just turns my stomach." Forty-five years old and eagerly counting the days until he could retire, Mac Every wasn't one to mince his words.

Mary pretended to be insulted at his tone at his tone but the laughter in her eyes gave her away. "The new guy's just arrived. Jess was just saying how cute he is."

"I said I thought he might be cute," Jessica corrected indignantly, looking up from her file.

"You said he looked like Hugh Grant and Pierce Brosnan," Mary replied, losing her own battle to keep a straight face.

Mac raised his hands in surrender and shook his head sadly at both of them. "Enough. I get your drift." Grabbing a file from Jessica's desk he turned, and mumbling under his breath, headed for the safety of his own desk. "Just great. As if we haven't got enough to deal with, now they send us James-fucking-Bond."