Author's Note: I know it's been a while. I'm working on stuff with the canon crew, but this is all I got at the moment. I know it's purely Ocs, and if you're not into that, that's totally fine. But I really enjoy writing the Skye and Connor dynamics. This story is set in late 2007, I suppose a kind of prequel to my other story Above and Beyond, which has the same team. If you want a proper introduction to Skye, let me refer you to my story Dunn and Dusted (I promise that one has Benji et al.). I still thought I'd publish this one since it's been so long, and in the end it's still the basic IMF spy stuff we're into – and I am fairly content with it. Enjoy.

Cheers x

Business and Pleasure

Agent Skye Holt cautiously pushed the door open. The smell of cold pizza enveloped her immediately.

"Connor? Are you home?"

The following silence made her take the gun out of its holster. Better safe than sorry. She left the front door ajar and continued into the kitchen that opened into the living-/bedroom.


The answer was a sharp scream. "Who are you?!"

Skye sighed and tucked the gun away before hysterics could ensue. "Well, I don't know, key to his flat, not overly surprised to find him in bed with another girl, you do the maths."

"What?!" the woman shrieked. "You have a girlfriend?!"

"She's lying," Connor assured her nervously, still not entirely awake. "She's my sister."

"A sister with an English accent? Creative, Connor."

Connor sat up, the sheets sliding off his naked body. "She went to boarding school," he made a desperate attempt.

"And why is she calling you Connor?!"

"It's my middle name." It sounded like a question.

Skye just rolled her eyes and threw him a shirt. "Get dressed, please."

"Oh my god," the other woman said, disgusted with herself, and hurriedly collected her clothes. "I'm so, so sorry," she added in Skye's direction. "If I had known I would never have – I don't usually do this, you know." She buttoned up her blouse.

"I know," Skye said in fake-friendly understanding.

"You should break up with him." The brunette struggled into a high heeled shoe. "Don't you dare call me!" she shouted at Connor and smashed the door behind her.

"Would if I could," Skye murmured.


"I want my key back," Connor grumbled in the car.

"Come on, you'll find a new one."

"That was uncalled for."

"For the record, I didn't say anything, she assumed you have a girlfriend."

"You ruined it," Connor persisted stubbornly.

"And you left me hanging this morning!"

"I forgot, okay? I thought it was Tuesday."

Skye huffed and kept her eyes on the street.

"And she was cute, okay? Guess I can forget that now."

"Please," Skye said, "you don't even know her name."

"Her name is Isabel."

"Congratulations. I bet she drinks cosmos."

"Long Island Ice Tea..." Connor mumbled.

"She must be really special."

Connor mumbled some more.

They drove in silence until Skye pulled into the underground car park of IMF HQ and a subsequent parking spot. She sighed and looked at her friend. "Look, I honestly don't care who you sleep with and what you tell them. I don't mind being your wingman. But when it starts affecting our work that concerns me too, and I don't want to be involved in whatever you've got going." All of this she said calmly, almost a bit concerned. "I said you weren't feeling well. It's covered. But I worried when you didn't show up. And I could have used you there."

She got out of the car, and Connor followed. He managed to shut up until they were in the elevator, then he couldn't bear the silence any longer. "I'm sorry."

Skye smiled.

"I don't know what's wrong with me ever since Lucy ended our – whatever it was. And – yeah, I fucked up." He looked over. "Are we cool?"

"We're cool," Skye said. "But you owe me one."

Connor was relieved. "Done."

"Can I drive Annie?" Connor's 1970 Mustang had always been an object of desire, but Skye was unequivocally banished to her passenger's seat.

"Anything but that."

She chuckled. "Had to try."

They were quiet until the elevator opened, then Connor couldn't help himself. "It was worth it, though."

Skye punched his shoulder, hard, but despite herself she had to laugh. "You're horrible!"

Connor smirked.

"I'm gonna round up Megan. And you pull yourself together."

In response, Connor nodded and raised a fist.

Skye sighed. "Do I have to?"

"Come on, now it's there, I can't take it back."

Resigned, Skye bumped her fist into his. "This better has been worth it."


"Fancy," Casey nodded at the creamy surface of the coffee, sprinkled with chocolate flakes.

"It's for Skye," Connor smiled ruefully. "I owe her a favour."

"Do you sleep with her?"

Connor had to put Skye's cup down to prevent spilling the piece of art. "God no. We're friends." He looked at Casey as if he had proposed something thoroughly gross and inappropriate. "She's my brother."

"Just asking."

Connor didn't like the way Casey held back on his smirk. "Why?"

"Oh, you know," he said. "Don't wanna take anything that doesn't belong to me."

Connor wasn't sure he had heard right. "She doesn't belong to anyone." He took care to keep his tone at friendly-guy-talk level, in case he was misinterpreting something, but all his instincts had gone on alert.

But Casey's smirk got more unambiguous. "Course not."

Connor suddenly felt the need to tell him to stay away from Skye. "Hey," he started, but that moment Skye returned with Megan.

"Missed you at the briefing this morning, youngster," Megan Laurie, their team leader, greeted him good-naturedly, combing a bunch of her multitude of tiny braids behind her ear. "Feeling better?"

He realised that whatever Skye told her, Megan had believed it – which was an astonishing feat. Connor felt a deep gratitude for their friendship. "Yes. And sorry about that. It won't happen again." He stole a minimal glance at Skye on the last sentence and knew she wasn't mad anymore. Just to make sure he reached for the coffee he'd made her. His hand touched thin air.

"Oh. Thank you, Jake," Skye said somewhat surprised on receiving the cup from Casey.

"Don't mention it," the other agent smiled.