The airport was pretty crowded, but with the three SSR agents there to escort me somewhat discretely, people were parting like the sea. By discretely, apparently they just meant they would wear more civilian clothes as opposed to agent gear. The three of them surrounded me; two in the back one in front; and Rosie walked next to me.

Along the way many people gawked, confused as to why these three men where surrounding these two women as we all walked through the airport. I tried a couple times to make it seem more normal by catching up to the guy in front to talk with him, but he would explain the orders given to him and would walk a bit faster.

We got to the gate and the three agents stopped and looked around for threats while I got my ticket out for the lady at the gate. Rosie was still with me and asked, "Are you already to go?" I nodded back to her and she made sure to run we through what I need to do in case my stitches popped.

"Thank you for all of your help Rosie," I said. I gave her a smile and went over to board the plane. Rosie on agent left, while two others ensured I got onto the plane safely. The door shut and the two agents left, leaving me to venture to the other half of the country on my own.

The sense of adventure was exciting and I couldn't wait to explore a new office and get acquainted with the other agents. I haven't heard much about the New York division, just that it housed agents part of the famous Project Rebirth, and that some people there had met the Star Spangled Man with a Plan himself.

I kept thinking about New York as I sat down in my seat next to the aisle. My bag sat in my lap and I was getting ready to buckle in when a stewardess came over. "Ma'am? I'm sorry but you have to put your bag in an overhead bin for the flight," she said. I nodded and smiled and she walked off. So that would be tough considering I can't really lift my arms up without risk of popping some stitches. Also, my bag had my files and a gun in it so I wasn't exactly thrilled to put it somewhere away from my reach.

But I stood up from my seat and started to try and put my bag up. The aisle was less crowded at the moment so I wasn't blocking people from getting to their seats. I started reaching up higher and felt the pull on my wound but my bag still couldn't get in the overhead bin. "Dammit please just go in the bin," I mumbled a bit louder than what I had wanted.

"Here let me help," someone said next to me. I turned around and a taller guy with brown hair and brown eyes was there. He grabbed my bag and carefully shoved it in the bin. I observed him a bit more and noticed he a had a sort of crutch on his arm as well.

Before I could get caught staring at him I looked back to his face and gave him a smile. "Thank you so much," I said, and gave him a nod. He nodded back and moved on back to his seat a couple rows ahead. My side hurt a bit but I couldn't feel any blood coming out so I figured everything was good.

I sat in my seat and let out a long sigh, and waited for the plane to take off. This may or may not the first time I'm riding plane, and I was very conflicted on how I felt. Excited? Terrified? All of the above? Probably the last option.

"Excuse me," a woman said as she placed her purse in the overhead bin and sat next to me. I smiled at her and went back to my thoughts on how the flight would go. She sat down and buckled up, then turned to me. "I can tell this is your first time flying. How have you never been on a plane before?" she asked me.

I looked over at her and saw the eagerness in her face. "Um I just never had the time to get off work and get on a plane I guess," I answered, hoping that would do. It didn't.

"Oh well where do you work?"

"At a boring office. It's just simple desk work most of the time." I wasn't exactly lying to her about my job, just telling her the basic stuff to get her off my back.

"Then why are you on a plane now? Did ya get fired?" she asked, and I about had it with her. I took it a very deep breath and plastered a smile onto my face. When I turned to her, she was taken back by my hostile reaction. "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to poke and prod."

"Well you did anyways. No, I wasn't fired. Thank you for being kind and everything, but I'd rather stick to myself right now." I huffed and turned back to facing forwards, closed my eyes, and continued to prepare for take off.

The poor woman next to me cleared her throat and faced forward in her seat as well. Yes I did feel bad for snapping at this poor innocent girl, but I was ready to get my flight over with and get to New York.

The stewards of the plane went through safety instructions while the pilots also spoke over the intercom. I was already sort of prepared (as an agent, you learn to know all you need to know before going/doing something) but I listened and watched still as they all went through how to exit the plane in case of an emergency.

As the plane lifted off I gripped the arm rests harshly, but also sort of discretely so I didn't spark up any more conversations of any sort with my seat neighbor. It was weird, going up in a plane for the first time. Soaring into the sky where literally anything could happen to us. My mind started to do the natural thing of running every way this trip could go wrong, and I either debunked them all or figured a way out of them. So I was set mentally.

The ascension to the sky was over soon, and the stewards came out to let everyone know they could unbuckle and get their carry-on bags. I stood quickly and tried to grab my carry-on bag. It was barely out of my reach.

"Damn," I mumbled, and contemplated asking another person or asking my seat neighbor. My mouth opened to ask my seat neighbor if she'd be willing to help, but a hand gently placed itself on my shoulder.

"Here, I'm willing to help one more time." I turned and found the same guy who helped me earlier standing there. I smiled and moved over so he could grab my bag. He reached up and carefully got it out. When I looked up to grab it, I noticed his hand was about where my gun was stored. For the briefest moment I thought he didn't notice, but he gave me a look that told me he did, in fact, notice I had a weapon on my person.

I thanked him quickly and grabbed my bag, sat down, and pulled my book out to read and hope he got the idea. "Excuse me ma'am?" I looked up and expected him to be looking at me, but instead he was looking at my seat neighbor. She looked up at him immediately. "The woman I'm sitting next to has a strong perfume on that's making my allergies flare. Do you mind switching with me?" he asked her. I knew it was a fake excuse, but I couldn't say anything as she had gotten up and moved to the aisle. He showed her where he had been sitting and she left with her bag.

My eyes went back to my book and I tried to read as he sat down next to me. He grabbed my book from my hands to get my attention. "Hey!" I called out, but he didn't give me my book back. "I lost my place! I was getting to the good part," I complained. However he put a finger over his lips to tell me to be quiet.

He was trying to avoid a panic by quietly confronting me about my gun. He was smart, and I figured he must have some sort of military background. For all I know he could be an agent. He looked around and leaned in, and I followed his moves.

"What are you doing here with a weapon? Do I have to report you? I don't want to cause any panic amongst the other passengers," he said. I sighed and figured I should show him my badge as proof that I was alright and there was no need for worry. My right hand went to the inside of my jacket pocket. As my hand moved, he was alerted and grabbed my left wrist. "What are you doing?"

I looked him in the eye and tried to show my hands. "Relax please, I'm just trying to show you that I'm no threat." I moved my hand all the way to my pocket and pulled my SSR identification from it. I held it out and he gladly took it, opening it and confirming any other doubts he had.

He let go of my hand and reached into his own jacket pocket while also handing me mine back. "My apologies A- Miss Jones, I did not know," he said. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me. When I opened it up I saw it was his own SSR identification.

"Mr. Daniel Sousa, a pleasure," I said, and held out my hand for him to shake; he did gladly. I handed his badge back to him. "I'm sorry for the scare about the...contents of my bag, I just need to be safe." Sousa nodded in understanding. I looked over and noticed he still had my book hostage. "May I..." I said and gestured to the book.

He looked at the book and said, "Oh right! Sorry about taking your book." Sousa handed me my book with an apologetic look. I thanked him and opened it back up to the last page I remembered being on, and continued to read.

But in reality I wasn't really reading; I was thinking. Sousa was an SSR agent as well, possibly also heading to New York. Part of me wanted to talk to Daniel Sousa, and hope we would be work buddies. The other part of me was content in simply reading my book. The former won.

I closed me book and looked back over at him. "So, which division do you work in?" I asked him. He looked up at me, a bit startled, but went along with the talk.

"I'm in the New York division. Just came down here for a bit of a break. You?" I must've looked shocked at his response, because he had a follow up question. "Are you in New York or something?"

I did a little shrug and said, "Kind of. Just transferred from the Miami unit. Quite the coincidence meeting you on the plane." We smiled at each other and held some more conversations before I went back to my book. Sousa pulled out some files and decided to work on those. I tried my very best not to, yet I still stole a couple glances at what cases he was working on. They seemed interesting enough, but it looked like he was just finishing up paperwork for already completed cases.

Halfway through the flight I realized my tickets must've been changed to a straight trip to New York as opposed to a connection from Miami to Atlanta and then to New York. To be honest I figured it would be a lot better, and figured I could manage to finish my book.

The rest of the flight was pretty calm, and I did finish my book. I let out a sigh as I closed it, and smiled slightly. The butler did it, as always, and it was obvious from the start when you have training to pick out every single little detail you can to further your progress in a case.

I let out an unexpected yawn and figured I might as well sleep the rest of the trip. My seat was able to move just a tad, so I moved it and tried my best to just sleep. It was difficult, considering all of the factors involved, but I thought, "It will be easier to get through landing if I'm asleep, so might as well." My eyes closed and I took in slow and deep breaths to get myself asleep.

My surroundings changed. I was in a warehouse, being hoisted up into the air by this strange black substance, and pain was racing through me. Two women in front of me were fighting, one with blonde hair and one with brown. The blonde was the villain, I thought. I had no idea how I knew, but I did. The brunette then was on my side it seemed, and then suddenly everything went black.

I expected to wake up, but I was still in the dream. Someone was yelling my name, a man by the sound of it, and I still felt a burning pain going though my body. Everything was unbearable and I thought I was unconscious, yet I could feel and hear everything.

A slight shake to my shoulder pulled me out of my dream completely. I calmly opened my eyes and remembered my situation. I looked to the left and saw that it was Agent Sousa that had woken me up. "We landed and are getting ready to disembark," he said. Nodding, I stood up and made sure all of my things were put away in my bag. Sousa and I made our way off the plane and walked to the baggage claim area together.

"So, what's next for you?" he asked me. We found our bags quickly and an airport employee helped us grab them since Sousa had one hand and I was a lady (stupid but I was also injured so I didn't complain).

I thought for a moment, then realized I needed a place to live. "Well, apartment hunting I guess. I'll probably need a place to stay and I have today to look for an apartment before I'm to meet with the Chief. I was supposed to come down earlier but things happened, so I'll probably be thrown into the action pretty quickly," I said. Sousa nodded and we walked out of the airport together.

"Well, then I hope to see you tomorrow, Agent Jones." He nodded with a smile and I returned it. He got into a car that sped away as soon as his door was shut. I didn't have that luxury; I needed a taxi to get wherever the hell I was gonna go.

I didn't have much time to think, as a taxi came over to me pretty quickly when I got close enough to the edge of the pedestrian area. He rolled down the passenger window and looked at me. "Hey sweetheart," he said, his Boston accent thick and very noticeable. "Ya need a ride?" he asked me. I nodded and figured I could ask him for a good place.

"Yes please," I said as I started to get my luggage into the trunk. The driver got out and put it in for me, and smiled weirdly at me. "Thank you very much." We got into the taxi and I made sure I was settled before I looked up and asked, "Do you have any recommendations for a good diner in New York City?"

He thought for a second before visibly getting an idea. "I do, actually. I'll drop you off there then, ma'am." I nodded and he pulled out from beside the curb and we were off. The driver tried to make a bit of conversation, but I remained quiet and enjoyed the view outside of my window. He finally just gave up.

After about 20 minutes of silence, the driver spoke up again. "Never been to New York City before, huh?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him through the rear view mirror.

"Maybe I just enjoy looking at the view around me." The guy took the hint and kept quiet the rest of the way. When we got further into the city itself, traffic was much slower and I was getting annoyed with my growing total on the meter. I sighed and decided to walk the rest of the way.

"Where is this diner you know of? I'm going to walk the rest of the way." The driver gave me directions; up the street and then a right on the third block, and the sign is really obvious from there; and I paid him.

I had to be careful as I got my luggage out from the trunk, you know, cause I didn't want to hit the other car behind us or pop my stitches, and started rolling it down the street to the third block. The foot traffic was much quicker because people actually knew where to go and how to get there. In ways, I didn't understand the city traffic, but then at other times I remembered crosswalks, taxis picking people up, and traffic lights affected the speed that other cars could go on the road.

When I turned right, I saw the sign that the taxi driver had mentioned to me. The giant sign said "The L&L Automat" and was brightly lit on the building. The words were in neon green and were the very first thing I saw as I walked down the street. I saw a few people enter and exit, so it must be a popular place.

I looked at my watch to see it was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and figured there wouldn't be too much lunch traffic. With a quick nod, I dragged my luggage behind me and into the little diner.

A/n: And here's the next chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying the book so far! Again, we're just laying the groundwork for what's to come. I'm really happy that there are people sticking around and reading this!

So, quick question: I have all the chapters of this book written, so should I just start posting every day instead of once a week? Part of me likes the steady 'one chapter a week' schedule, but the other part really wants to get this submitted to the Wattys and wants people to read this. Let me know, I'd really appreciate it!

Bye Lovelies!!!!!!