One would think closets would be the same tempature as the room, but it was the complete opposite. It was absolutely freezing in the closet, Diana aggressively rubbing her arms in an attempt to keep warmth to herself, staying far from any walls. She heard footsteps, trying to peek out to see who it was, relieved to find it to be 47 dressed in what she assumed to be some form of a staff uniform. Gladly she shoved the closet doors open, stumbling slightly.
"For the sake of not fumbling everything up, please destroy these heels." The Handler mumbled, huffing softly. The agent standing near raised a brow in amusement, holding a gloved hand out expectantly. Diana paused, fumbling with the strap on her heels. "Don't give me that look, agent, or you're on petty jobs for a week." She playfully threatened, tugging off the black heel with a sudden side step.
"What look?" The agent asked innocently, taking the first heel and easily snapping the heel off, tossing it aside with a shrug. "Besides, you wouldn't actually assign me those missions. They're boring for you too." He bantered back, tossing the heel back to the Handler.
She managed to catch it easilu, tugging it on with a slightly relieved sigh. "Thank you." She muttered, tossing the other heel over. It was rather impressive to see such a clean snap done to the expensive heels. She glanced down at her attire, frowning at the stark contrast it held from her companion's.
"You can act sick, there's bedrooms upstairs." 47 suddenly spoke, handing the heel to Diana with his normal controlled look. The Handler slowly nodded, securing the remaining shoe and adjusting to the height difference now. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. The reassurance of nobody knowing her real identity made the thought of acting like she'd had too much to drink less embarrassing. Plus, it meant that she could be disguised without the hassle of getting someone's clothes.
"I'll need an actual drink after this." She joked with a brief grin, ducking her head and holding her stomach, twisting her face into one of discomfort. The warmth of 47's arm across her shoulders and holding her arm felt nice compared to the air of the closet.
"I'll keep that in mind..."
YOU ARE READING
Sarang
FanfictionDiana joins 47 for a mission, to help him gain access to the target. Little did she know how stressful this mission would be. (TW for blood, death, crime, and canon-typical violence)
