Fic: Ride the high – Prelude: on our better days.

[munnin]

Title: Ride the high – Prelude: on our better days.
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
Rating: G...so far
Characters: the CIB team
Disclaimer: All fun, no cash
Summery: on occasions the CIB team do have their good days. Some fluff and fun before I worry about the plot.

It was getting late on a Friday afternoon but in the CIB office, the weekend was just starting up.

“Hey. What d’ya think?” Ethan swept into the room in his new suit, striking an almost Bond like pose.

Frank glanced at Jack, stifled a chuckle. “You look very...” Jack struggled for the right word, “tall.”

“Don’t listen to them.” Minx called as she came up from the garage. She was wearing a stained pair of overalls and a thin layer of engine grease, X in tow. “You look dashing. You’ll do great this weekend.”

“So you’re right with your cover for race?” Jack asked softly, helping Ethan with the batteries for his com’s system.

“I think so. I’m there as the personal assistance to supermodel Miranda Laurence.” He cocked his head to Minx who was deep in discussions with X over the new modifications to the Shooting Star. “I drive her around and generally keep out of the way. Take her to the race and the after party where I get to spend the night hanging around at the back, staying out of trouble and keeping my eyes open.”

Jack gave an indulgent smile. “That’s about the size of it but believe me; the view’s worth keeping your eyes open for.”

“Jack! For shame.” Minx threw her grease cloth at him. “And you a married man and all.”

He grinned and tossed it back to her. “No harm in looking.”

She laughed and went back to what she was doing. Ethan watched her for a moment. “What I don’t get is what we do if the real Miranda Laurence turns up.”

Jack looked at him bemused. “What do you mean?”

“Well Minx looks a bit like her and I know she cleans well but there’ll be all those models there. Surely someone will notice that Minx isn’t the real deal.”

At that point Minx burst into a fit of giggles. Frank too was chuckling and even the taciturn X had a disbelieving grin. “I seem to have missed a joke.” Ethan muttered darkly.

“Not the joke so much as point I think.” The Inspector said quietly from the doorway. “Minx? Would you be so kind as to explain to Ethan?”

“Sorry Ethan.” She smirked, “I thought someone had told you already. I am Miranda Laurence.”

“Huh?” Ethan stared at her blankly.

“Miranda Laurence? Cat walk model? Face of Gotye’s Spring Racing Collection?” Minx slunk towards him, almost predatorily. “Voted best model at Melbourne Fashion Week last two years running? Anything ringing a bell.”

Ethan backed off as fast as he could, hiding behind his desk to get away from her. “Yeah yeah. I get that. I know who she is. I just don’t get how you’re her. When’d that happen?”

“Pretty much when I was born.”

X finally took pity on the poor kid and stepped in. “Minx originally joined the CIB as a covert agent. Her career as model gives her legitimacy and access to areas of society we couldn’t normally get.”

“And by that he means invites all the best parties.” Frank sniggered.

Ethan still looked confused. “But she, I mean you, have a life, a fiancé?”

“Most of which is built on choreographed appearances and stories carefully leaked to the tabloids. As for my fiancé?” She flicked a teasing look at X, “If enigmatic, millionaire playboy Alex Sterling doesn’t turn up to my next show; I am going to leak rumours that he’s having an affair with a WRL driver.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” X growled.

Mischief flickered in Minx’s eyes as she leaned over back over Frank’s desk. “What do you reckon Frank? Speed Racer or Cannonball Taylor?”

X’s eyes narrowed as he lunged across the room, pinning Minx to the desk and scattering Frank’s reports everywhere. Up until that point it had never occurred to Ethan that someone as beautiful as Minx might also be extremely ticklish.

“Alright. Alright.” She squealed, breathless with laughter and finally conceding defeat. “I won’t tell anyone you’re sleeping with Taylor.” X stopped and helped her up. “Just Speed.”

“Ah!” He grabbed her in a bear hug and threw her over his shoulder. “That’s it. You’re so dead.”

“Children!” the Inspector cleared his throat meaningfully at them. “X shouldn’t you getting the Shooting Star loaded up. It’s a long drive and the truck needs to leave tonight to make check in at the track. And you madam,” he turned on Minx, “spent a large amount of CIB funds on a new dress that I have yet to see you wear. So both of you get moving.”

“Yes boss.” X muttered as he put careful Minx down, still hugging her tightly. “You’ll keep.” He whispered in her ear.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek as he let her go.

Ethan watched them as they headed off in different directions, still trying to keep up with the plot. “So are they like...”

“Oh very much no.” Jack said quietly, not looking up from his paperwork. “But they’re as close as brother and sister most of the time. Fight like it too sometimes.”

“Just wish they’d play silly buggers somewhere other than my desk.” Frank sniped as he rescued his reports from the floor.

“It’s good to hear some laughter around here though.” The Inspector said contemplatively, still leaning on the doorframe of his office. “It’s been a hard couple of month.”

“Amen to that!” Frank grabbed his jacket off the rack. “And on that note; I’m going home. Have fun at the race this weekend guys. Jack? D’you still need a ride home?”

Jack looked up distractedly. “Oh yeah thanks. I nearly forgot.”

Frank clapped Jack on the back as he shut his computer down. “You forgot lending your 17 year old daughter your car? You frighten me man. No father has the right to be that relaxed.”

Jack laid a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he left. “You’ll be fine. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks Jack. You have a good one too.” He smile, hoping his nerves weren’t showing that badly. He drifted over to lean against his desk, facing the Inspector. “So Racer X is really Alex Sterling?”

“Not precisely.” the Inspector replied, choosing his words with care. “It would be more accurate to say that Racer X and Alex Sterling are both parts played by the same person.”

“So who is he? Really?”

David Detector ran a hand through his short blond hair, staring off into some unseen distance. “He is a brilliant CIB agent, a natural race-car driver, and your teammate. What more than that could you need to know?”

Minx and X reappeared almost simultaneously, stopping to zip up each others outfits, Minx in a slinky black dress and X in his leather racing suit. The model strutted actors the room, spinning for effect. “So? What do you think boss?”

The Inspector pushed his glasses up his nose thoughtfully. “I for one am surprised that so much money can purchase so little fabric.”

“Philistine!” Minx laughed. “Ethan likes it though.”

Ethan, who was currently having problems getting the carpet lint off his jaw, nodded vigorously.

“You be careful at the party Ethan.” X said in a stage whisper. “Watch out for those vixens she calls friends. They can’t be trusted.”

“Ooh. Big brave Racer X is afraid of a few skinny models.” She snatched up Ethan’s arm, leaning in conspiratorially, “He’s never been the same since Heidi Klum groped him at the Dior launch.”

“OUT! All of you.” The Inspector barked before X could get hold of Minx again. “Get a good night’s sleep. We have a long drive ahead of us. Best get an early start tomorrow.”

As he closed up the office David sent up a silent pray. ‘Please let there be more of these. We need our better days.’