CANADA

It’s a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary for late march in Toronto. Trees are starting to bloom, but only just, so there are only a few pink or white blossoms peeking out amongst the trees. The sun is shining, but it’s still cold in early spring, so most people are wrapped up warm, apart from the daredevils who are wearing shorts and t-shirts. Looking at you frat boys.

Seulgi stalks down the sidewalk as if she owns it, large sunglasses covering her eyes and most of her face, and fur lined coat keeping her warm in the thawing weather. She enjoys the way her heels make a sound against the hard ground, but wishes she hadn’t worn them, because she has a feeling she might have to run soon. She doesn’t look over her shoulder, because that would make it obvious she suspects she’s being followed. Luckily there is busy looking cafe coming up on her right, so she makes a casual swerve and heads inside, hands in her pockets and fingers curled around her delivery.

Wendy sits inside her usual cafe, Mckenzie’s, her laptop in front of her like always. She’s blogging, as she always is, but instead of her blueberry muffin, today she has changed it up and chose a chocolate chip muffin. It’s the little things that make a difference, she thinks, as she reblogs a video of a dog bursting bubbles by jumping and biting them. She’s answered all her asks for today, all eleven of them, most of them asking to date her (amongst other things) but she deflects them with witty comebacks. Not all of them repeatable in polite company.

She runs a cooking blog. Sort of. More like, she posts a recipe once a week, maybe and the rest of the time she just reblogs other things that catch her fancy. But it suits her, and her followers don’t seem to mind too much.

Someone walks behind her, so she tucks her chair under the table a little more to let them through, without even taking her eyes off her screen. She takes another bite of her muffin, and smirks, reblogging a photoset of cakes with spelling mistakes iced on them.

She looks up in shock as someone sits in the unoccupied seat in front of her, and is about to tell her that this seat is reserved for someone (a lie) but then she gets a good look at her face. Or not, since she’s wearing sunglasses, but from what she can see, she is gorgeous. All she can really see is , her lower lip is fuller than her upper one, and she has dark hair that flows over her shoulders like a celebrity. How do people have hair like this?

Without really thinking, she shares this development on her blog.

heeeelp, really pretty girl just sat down across from me??????

Immediately she gets responses like ‘seduce her’ and worse, but a lot of it is encouragement to talk to her. Wendy looks up discreetly, and finds that the girl in front of her seems to be staring right at her. Or, she might not be since she has shades on, but it sure feels like it.

“Hello,” the unknown mysterious woman says, chin resting on her interlocked fingers. Her voice is softer than she would have expected from someone with such a confident, charismatic aura, but it’s sweet and Wendy immediately decides she likes it.

“Hey,” she replies, fingers stilling on her keyboard. Wendy can barely contain her excitement, legs bouncing under the table. Another girl seems interested in her. The way she’s leaning in like that, she’s not misinterpreting it, is she?

She waits for a reply, or some kind of comment to spark a conversation, but nothing happens, and Wendy starts to doubt herself a little. Maybe she just wanted a seat; it is pretty busy in here right now after all.

“You’re really pretty,” The mysterious girl says, softly again. Wendy bites her lip, beyond pleased that this exquisite model praised her looks, even though she doesn’t think she looks her best today. Her voice has a faint accent, barely there, but Wendy has family in Korea, so she can tell a Korean accent a mile off.

“Thank you,” she replies, quickly updating everyone on her blog, “you’re really pretty too, I love your hair. It’s so nice,”

The mystery girl smiles like she’s trying to hold back, but the corners of her lips keep curling up. She’s unexpectedly cute, Wendy thinks, trying to plan out a way to politely ask her to take off her sunglasses, so she can see her eyes.

Seulgi panics.

She hadn’t expected her target to be like this. In the few minutes she’s been here, she’s mentally compared to a sunflower, a fairy, and watched a myriad of emotions fly across her face and loved each one. She hadn’t known someone could have that many expressions in such a short time.

But that’s not why she’s panicking. This was a mistake, sitting by her, she should have gone straight to her hotel room instead of trying to lose her tail, and use a civilian as cover. Now this girl is involved too, and the people following her might think she is a contact of hers. They undoubtedly have already taken photos of them sat together. , she is so screwed. Her superiors will never let her out in the field again.

“I’m Wendy, what about you?” She asks expectantly. Seulgi can’t tell her her name, people might be listening.

“That’s- I- I can’t tell you. Yet.” She says, then winces. Smooth.

This is why she doesn’t usually handle the cases involving people, she takes minor courier options and intelligence- definitely not missions. But, if things continue down this path Seulgi has unthinkingly set in motion, she will have to protect this Wendy from the claws of her chasers. She had only intended to use this girl as a safety net, a means of protection- they wouldn’t draw attention to her if she was with someone, and they most likely wouldn’t risk collateral damage, but she had accidentally dropped the package in her bag as she brushed past her seat. Now she has no way to escape quickly. She should have kept a better grip on it! What was she thinking?

“You can’t tell me? Ok, miss mystery,” Wendy teases, typing something more on her laptop, but smirking coyly as she does so.

She sends a message to her handler, the person safe behind the agency walls whose job it is to keep her up to date and help with logistical issues and more, about what she’s inadvertently done.

The way she sees it, there’s two options. One, she tells Wendy what’s going on, potentially scaring the life out of her, and brings her with her to her hotel room to keep her safe- she wouldn’t be able to leave her alone after that. The second, less preferable option, is that she makes a dive for her bag and runs, but that could end in gunfire and the local police getting involved. All sorts of complications could ensue. Taking her with her is the only viable option for her safety.

Wendy watches the mystery woman carefully- she seems very nervous. Perhaps she just puts on the air of confidence to hide her insecurities? Wendy kind of wants to take her hand and tell her to stop worrying, but that would be all kinds of weird. Her followers are already raving about their matchup, and Wendy hopes she can score a date with her because that would be awesome. No more complaining about straight people for her!

If only she could see her face. And learn her name. She is shrouded in mystery still, and so confusing. An amalgamation of sure and shy, which is as endearing as it is frustrating.

“Listen, there’s a situation…” she says, leaning in a little closer, and lowering the volume of her voice even more, so that Wendy can barely hear her and has to incline her head, “I’m being followed,”

“Oh!” Wendy’s eyes widen, “do you have some kind of ‘crazy ex’ kind of thing going on?” She asks, worried. If she’s just here to use her for protection, then she’ll do everything she can to help her out, of course.

“No, no nothing like that. Well- actually no.” She her lips and Wendy trains her eyes on her own reflection in the dark tinted lenses so as not to stare.

“Then what?” Wendy frowns, “Are you on the run from the police?”

“No, I am the police. In a sense. I’m being followed by someone who really wants a package I was sent by the government to retrieve.” She informs her.

Wendy quirks an eyebrow. So, what, is this some elaborate prank? Haha, let’s all laugh at Wendy because she likes girls and is desperate enough to fall for something like this?

“I can tell you don’t believe me. Look behind me, there’s a woman looking around, right? Short hair, slightly boyish?” Wendy looks. There is a girl that matches her description, glaring right at them, “She’s after the package too. I’m really sorry, but I used you as cover, and you’re no longer safe. You have to come with me or you’ll be taken by them,”

Wendy blinks a few times as she processes what has to be the most creative lie someone has ever told her. There’s no way any of this can be real, but she feels kind of scared regardless.

“Check your bag- discreetly!-  I dropped the target in there as a went by. I’m sorry.” The mystery woman -secret agent? Wendy doesn’t know at this point- apologises. Confused, and not wanting to make a fool of herself by looking and finding nothing, Wendy obliges.

But there it is, a small dark gray box with a tiny padlock on. She didn’t put it there so this woman must be telling the truth, mustn’t she? What even is this tiny thing? And why does everyone want it so much?

“These people are willing to kill for this,” the secret agent tells her sincerely as she takes back the package, under the table so it’s harder to see, “I’m sorry I got you into this. But now that I have, you can’t stay here. They’ll see you as a loose end and-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Wendy shivers, glancing at the girl who is slowly making her way closer to them.

“Do you live alone?”

“...Yes.” Wendy confirms, suspiciously, “but my friends live close by?”

“But not with you? They are likely safe, then,”

“Ok.” Wendy squeaks.

“Come with me, and walk naturally,”

“Ok,” Wendy squeaks again, beginning to pack up her laptop and unfinished muffin. Hadn’t she thought earlier that small things made a difference? Maybe if she’d gone with her usual muffin none of this would have happened.

Quickly, but not so quickly as to make a scene, she leads the flustered girl out of the little cafe, and asks if she has a car,

“Yeahh- no. I use the bus.” Wendy explains, and Seulgi blanches. Her car had to be abandoned this morning in the hopes of misleading her rivals, but clearly it hadn’t worked. This was supposed to be an easy mission: go in, get the thing, and leave. Their chasers weren’t even supposed to know she was here- how did it become so complicated?

Shaking her head, she walks them both quickly in the direction of the nearest hotel, a different one to the one she used last night, and books both of them a room, telling the secretary that they’d rather not be disturbed, and not to tell anyone that asks about them anything. She looks over her shoulder, but sees no one following, so maybe they lost them in the crowd. Wishful thinking.

Ushering Wendy inside their room, she leans against the closed door and finally relaxes, just a little. She isn’t sure how long she can be complacent, as her tail will catch up to her eventually.

“We need to get you some more clothes, since you’ll be coming with me.” Seulgi says, forgetting that Wendy is not on the same wavelength as her.

“Excuse me? Coming where?” Wendy squeaks. This is all wrong: her usual jobs can’t complain about being uprooted from their homes.

“I need to go to Australia to unlock this. Is your home nearby?”

Wendy looks like a fish, eyes wide and mouth gaping as she struggles to comprehend.

“Australia?” She chokes. Oops, maybe Seulgi should have introduced that idea a little more tactfully. But still, the sight in front of her has her struggling not to crack a smile, even though it goes against protocol. Heck, everything is against protocol right now, nothing is going as planned and Seulgi doesn’t know what to do apart from take Wendy with her, even though they just met. What if she left her behind and then found out that she was kidnapped? Hurt? It would be all her fault.

“Yes, Australia.” Seulgi winces as Wendy drops her laptop bag on the bed (unthinkingly she’d only paid for a single bedroom) with a whump.  

“Are you sure this isn’t just some elaborate ruse to sleep with me?” Wendy giggles a little hysterically, staring at the plain, white bed. Seulgi recoils. Can she do nothing right today?

“I’m sorry, I can go and request another room, if you would like?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just. We’ll share, yeah? Or should I take the floor?”

“I don’t mind, do you want to share?” The idea of sleeping in the same bed as her is scary but in a thrilling way. It takes a little force to shove away the images- she refuses to call them fantasies- of them both lying in bed together, bare legs brushing and warm skin-

“I-I can manage, I think,” she flusters, a little pink, and goes to sit on the bed. Was she thinking the same things as Seulgi was?

Immediately, Wendy opens her bag and brings out her laptop, connecting to the hotel wi-fi with the password on the bedside table, diligently not looking up. Seulgi blinks behind her shades, and reaches for her phone. Maybe she can get some help with this situation.

To think she just came here without really even questioning the other girl’s actions, Wendy is astounded at herself. Maybe she really is as desperate for as anons say she is. She still hasn’t even seen her without sunglasses on.

looks like i might be going to australia soon guys

After just a few seconds people are flooding her inbox with congratulations, inquiries and ‘are you anywhere near ____??’. There are even a few people still asking about the cute girl from earlier, but Wendy doesn’t know what to tell them. To tell the truth she’s still processing everything herself. Why did she just let herself fall into this mess? It seems as though this whole thing was just a mistake, so the logical thing to do would be to walk out, right? To just leave?

Wendy looks up at the girl, who still hasn’t told her her name yet, typing something into a phone, twisted into a grimace.

She wants to find out more about her. And...she hasn’t gone on holiday in a while so why not? And she knows it’s not going to be a holiday, but the concept that people might actually want to kill her hasn’t sunk in yet. But even then, staying with this girl, who at least seems capable enough to protect her from what may come, might not be such a bad idea.

When the girl finally takes off her sunglasses, Wendy has to bite her lip to stop herself from saying anything. She was right- the girl is gorgeous, in a fresh, youthful kind of way. She looks about the same age as Wendy, perhaps even younger. That can’t be right, can it? Secret agents shouldn’t look like they’re barely out of college.

She reblogs something about a new disney movie, barely reading the information.

“What’s your name? You can tell me now, right? We got away from that girl who was following us.”

“Um. It’s Seulgi,” her eyes dart towards her, and she seems a lot more vulnerable without the dark glasses shielding her eyes. That’s probably why she wears them, Wendy supposes, so people don’t underestimate her or something like that.

“Seulgi.” It’s a pretty name, for a pretty girl. A pretty girl she will be sharing a bed with, and maybe going to freaking Australia with.

At least maybe there’s a small, tiny chance that she could meet up with her friend Joy. She lives in Australia, she’s sure.

“Where in Australia are we going exactly?” Wendy asks, already opening up a tab of her friends blog just in case she has good news. It doesn’t occur to her that she’s already accepted that she’s going, but Seugli’s seems a little relieved when she tells her their destination is Melbourne, and Wendy smiles back because that is where Joy lives.

“Will I be able to meet with my friend? Or will that be too dangerous?” She inquires, half sarcastic. Seulgi looks away, guilty, and Wendy feels bad for her. Obviously she isn’t pleased with how this day is turning out, and dragging an innocent into whatever...this is, wasn’t the plan.

“I...maybe.” She concedes, “The truth is, I was meant to go straight to my liaison's address, but he is refusing to co-operate. Non-government folk aren’t allowed to know where he lives, so we have to find somewhere else to stay,”

“I can ask Joy! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting us stay there for a few days,” Wendy jumps at the idea, already typing furiously.

“I was thinking more like a hotel, actually,” Seulgi interrupts,

“Oh, please?” Wendy begs, “I’ve wanted to meet her for years,” she doesn’t add that she’s already sent the message, so it would be hard to take back the request now. And she can see Seulgi wavering already, internally debating over whether this is a bad idea or a really bad idea. But apparently her superiors aren’t going to help her pay for another hotel and she is  stuck with whatever she can get her hands on.

“Fine,” she sighs. Wendy doesn’t do anything so childish as jump up and down shouting. On the outside at least. The response from Joy is good too, apparently she and her younger sister would be delighted to have them over.

Seulgi takes off her fur coat and sits on the other side of the bed, close enough for Wendy to be aware of her from the corner of her eye, but luckily not close enough for her to see the screen.

“How do you know these people anyway?” Wendy blanches,

“The internet,”

“Oh,” she frowns, “are you sure they’re safe? They could be anyone,”

“I’ve skyped both of them a few times, they’re really sweet. No need to worry,” she promises. Seulgi doesn’t seem convinced, but at this point there’s not really anything that she can do, so Wendy has got her way. It’s only fair: if she’s being uprooted and brought to a foreign country, then surely she should get some kind of compensation? Even if it’s just seeing a friend.

They make small talk for a while, slowly getting to know each other better, even though Seulgi doesn’t say much for fear they’re being listened to, and it’s mostly Wendy doing the talking. A while later, they make a short trip to Wendy’s home to pack some clothes and other essentials into a large, hideous rucksack, before quickly retreating to the hotel, hoping that no one saw them.

The trip outside reinforced the growing sense of fear that’s welling up inside both of them, and Seulgi is particularly relieved to return to the relative safety of the hotel room, glad that she hadn’t seen any signs of her pursuers.

As it was getting dark by then, Wendy volunteered to be the first to change into her pyjamas, and generally treated the whole thing like some kind of middle school sleepover. It was comforting. And now Seulgi is listening to Wendy sing in the shower, trying her best not to imagine anything graphic about what might be going on in there, which isn’t working too well for her. Certain she must be bright red by now, what with the warmth curling under her skin, she presses her palms to her cheeks as if that might quell the heat. It doesn’t.

She has already set up the plane flight, so the private jet should be waiting for them tomorrow morning at seven. It’s early, but it’s better to leave as soon as possible. Wendy is probably going to be upset, but it will keep her safe.

There’s a splash from the bathroom, and then Wendy is humming again. The door opens and reveals Wendy wearing nothing but a towel, her wet hair dark and dripping over her shoulders and cascading over her barely covered s. Seulgi’s eyes widen involuntarily, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the sight before her. She coughs loudly, and Wendy looks down at herself, shrieks, then backs into the bathroom and hides behind the door with only her head peeking out,

“C-can you pass me that- that,” she points to a pile of garments on the bed, and Seulgi jumps to retrieve them for her, passing them to her without really looking. “Thanks,” she breathes, retreating into the safety of the bathroom and leaving Seulgi with more problems than she started with.

Her heartbeat is running out of control, and she just walked out practically in front of a girl she met today. She’s probably going to think of her as some kind of ual deviant or a , and oh god. She slides down the door until sat at the bottom, clothes grasped in a bundle in one hand.

Ever so slowly, she gets dressed in her pyjamas, regretting choosing the shorts and vest top, to give her a chance to cool down and not think about sleeping in the same bed as a girl.

By the time she is calm enough to go back out there, feigning an air of confidence, Seulgi has made the bed up so that there is a pillow lying in the middle, and is already lying underneath the duvet. While insanely relieved that there will be less of a risk of them waking up in each other’s arms or something else ridiculously cheesy, she’s also disappointed for the same reason.

Taking care not to disturb Seulgi as she’s already half asleep, she climbs into the bed and curls up on her side, gasping when their feet touch for a moment.

When she wakes up, it takes her a while to remember where she is. She groans quietly and pushes her hair out of her face, rubbing her face. Seulgi is already packing things into bags and sorting things out, fully dressed. Wendy flops back down onto the pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep, but Seulgi shakes her shoulder,

“Get up. You can sleep on the plane,” Seulgi sounds urgent, and that’s when she realises it’s not even light outside. Glancing to the glowing numbers on the clock reveals that it’s almost four in the morning,

“Wha-?”

“Someone tried to infiltrate the room while we were unconscious, so we have to leave, now. I’ve already called a cab. Get dressed,” Wendy blinks as she processes this, then falls out of bed. No matter how much danger she knows she must be in right now, she can’t make herself open her eyes properly at this time in the morning. Sluggish, she pulls on a sweater over her pyjamas and doesn’t bother taking off her shorts before wrestling herself into her jeans. She doesn’t even tie her shoelaces.

Neither of them say much in the taxi to the airport, or wherever it is they’re going, but Wendy can see that Seulgi is thrumming with anxiety, shoulders rigid and lips pursed. She looks over her shoulder every ten seconds, even though Wendy can’t see anything there when she checks.

When they arrive at their destination, Seulgi hurries her into a smallish plane, the kind you see on TV owned by rich people, and buckles them both in, still shivering a little from the cool night air. The plane takes off almost silently, and when Seulgi finally relaxes, Wendy does too.

hey guys! this is my first red velvet fic and hopefully not the last 

my tumblr is here, and my twitter is here, though i dont use it as much