Once Bitten, Twice Shy

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Fear sucks. Because you never know when it will hit you. Sometimes it sneaks up behind you, giggling like your best girlfriend from 7th grade. Then it whacks you on the back of the head, takes you straight to your knees before you realize what hit you. Other times you can see it coming, just a dot on the horizon, but you're like a canary in a cage. All you can do is hang in there and hope it doesn't hit you so hard you get motion sickness and puke all over the newspapers.

I already felt pretty queasy as I perched on the single, wooden folding chair in my boss, Pete's, office. In fact, I hadn't been this scared since I'd started working for him six months before. Not even when, about ten hours into my first mission, I'd walked into my hotel room to find a vampire standing beside the bed, holding a crossbow. My crossbow. The one I'd meant to use to eliminate him.

Unlike that scenario, this was not a case where I could just go away and try again later. Or, as I had actually done, kick both shoes into his face to throw him off balance, blast his kneecaps with the .38 I wore under my skirts for insurance, then finish him off with the crossbow he'd dropped when his bones shattered. In this instance I was forced to sit absolutely still and try not to ralf all over the Top Secret files stacked in rows two and sometimes three deep on Pete's green metal desk. Because, despite the fact that I'd successfully completed every mission he'd assigned me so far, Pete was about to fire my ass.

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