"Rob. Rob. Rob," Ben Thompson repeated, banging a file on his forehead.

"Nice meditation technique, Ben. Maybe I should try doing that," his friend, Pete Bronson, told him sitting across from his desk.

"Do I look like a Rob to you?" Ben asked, looking up at him imploringly.

His friend shrugged. "It could be worse."

"How? How can it possibly be any worse?! They're sending me undercover to college. College! I hated it the first time around! Now, I have to hang out with another version of those preppy, annoying, spoiled rotten, frat guys who I despised and purposely avoided, during the seemingly never ending four years of my own college career!" Ben threw the folder on his desk in frustration.

"Think of it this way, you've got, at least, several months to chill, to party," Pete said with a slow grin. "I'd like that gig. But I don't have a cute, little baby face like yours." He patted Ben's cheek.

Ben brushed him off and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I can deal with parties. I can deal with the mafia and their coke ridden all night blow fests. But college frat parties? Shit." Ben groaned.

His captain walked past him and laughed.

Ben jumped out of his chair. "You can't do this to me, Reg!" He called, following the captain to his office.

"I can. And I am," Reggie Purcelli answered.

"Why me? You know I hate those frat brats."

"That's one reason," Reggie said with a smile. "Secondly, you're one of our youngest looking agents. You may not appreciate that now, but wait until you're sixty, sitting behind this desk. Third, is that you're good, Ben. One of the best," he said, leaning over his desk. He waited for Ben's eyes to light up as they always did when he was complimented. "On the other hand, you're cocky. So you'll fit in just fine."

Ben laughed, agreeing. "My mother always told me it'd come to haunt me. Guess she was right."

"Mothers always knows best," Reggie answered with a chuckle.

Meanwhile...

"College?!" Miranda Jones groaned.

"You got the look," her captain, Marcus Williams, told her leaning forward in his chair. Case files littered the desk. Organized chaos, the captain called it. Miranda pilfered a rubber band that was half hanging on, half hanging off, the desk.

"You look like an eighteen year old, Miranda. I have to remind myself, and the team, all the time that you're not. And you're one of our best agents, despite your youth, and your even younger looks, we all know it."

"Gee, thanks," Miranda ran a hand through her long, blonde hair self consciously.

"Look, you can get into one of these sororities real easy. You're young enough, and pretty enough..."

Miranda rolled her eyes as she flexed the rubber band in and out.

"And, like our boys here," he said, nodding to the office window overlooking the desks of agents, "those frat boys will do anything you ask."

"Like give me names of the heavy bookies," Miranda flexed the rubber band, "racketeers, heck, maybe, even some drug dealers," she gasped in mock surprise at the thought.

Marcus grinned, "Exactly." He spread his hands to emphasize that was whole point.

"So..." Miranda put her feet up on his desk, "I'm to sacrifice my virtue to capture you some thugs."

"Girrr-llll....virtue?" Marcus laughed.

She shot the rubber band at him. "Jerk."

"Get out of here and go register for college."

"I hate you!" she muttered, getting up.

"You know... you'd make a fantastic cheerleader," Marcus said, when she reached the door. "And pick out a real purrrrty name," he called as she slammed the door shut.

She heard him chuckling through the closed door as she walked away.

Miranda filled out her class registration forms like the other students in the orientation session with her. She'd done it before, ten years earlier.

She shook her head at all the young, excited, college bound kids. The poor saps didn't know what they were in for, she thought.

She filled in her chosen name, Ryan Grant. A name she picked out especially to bug Marcus. He wanted her to have a name like Brittany, Tiffany, Buffy or Bambi.

He shook his head in exasperation when he finally read the name she'd chosen.

Marcus had talked to the dean of admissions at the local university. The man was already informed of a FBI narcotic division's infiltration of the university starting at the beginning of the school year. The man had, in fact, had called the police for help when students, over the past several years, had been dropping like flies of drug overdoses.

He'd also called when he'd heard about some high stakes poker games that even he couldn't afford to play.

Some minor police investigations indicated that the poker games were not only limited to this campus, but, like the drug overdosing on campuses, they were happening nationwide.

Someone or somebodies had a real good racket going on and therefore the FBI was being brought in.

The two FBI divisions were used to working together, and although a bit surprised that they had the same idea, at the same time, about placing agents undercover at universities across the country, they had no problem collaborating with each other.

They decided not to tell their agents, so there would be no risk of them collaborating on campus and being uncovered.

All that the agents knew was that there was another agent on campus, and if needed, in an extreme emergency, they could contact the other using a special phone number.

****

"We are short on housing at it is, Henry," the housing admissions agent complained to the Dean.

"We have to make this happen, Gloria. Stick them together! I don't care! But they need a room. What are their names, by the way? I want to know who's sniffing around my campus!" he said, puffing on a cigar.

"The agents are...a Rob Long and a Ryan Grant," she read off the stationary with the FBI logo embossed in the center.

"Put them in a suite so they have two other roommates to keep them happy," the Dean said.

"Alright," Gloria said with a sigh, not liking it one bit.

****

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Miranda a.k.a Ryan said, walking into her dorm suite.

She looked around in disgust; to the left was a small kitchen which was barely large enough for the appliances in it. In front of her, was a small living room with a saggy orange couch, a scratched up coffee table, and a table with a lamp; all of which looked like they were from the nineteen fifties.

At the back wall, were grungy, tinted windows decorated with drapes of the same color orange as the couch.

Under the windows was a table with four small chairs around it.

To the left, was a bedroom with two cut out shapes of stars. One read "Joe", and the other star said "Larry".

To the right was another bedroom with the same shapes, in different colors, one read "Rob" and the other "Ryan".

She shook her head bemused. Why did she have to pick a non-gender specific name? Okay, granted, more guys were called Ryan than girls, but still!!! She had heard of girls with the name, Ryan. And she actually liked it!

She took a deep breath; she was used to making the best of awkward situations, especially where guys were concerned. This would be no different. And these were eighteen year old boys, piece of cake. She could handle them if she ended up stuck with them, which she truly hoped that she wouldn't be.

She carried her heavy bags into the room that was designated to her. She'd sort things out with the admin office as soon as she got the damn things out of her arms. She'd lugged them the five miles from the parking lot. It wasn't as if she hadn't carried heavy things before for miles. She'd carried packs heavier than her own body weight on her back. But these were civilian suitcases, not military issued duffel bags. These things you wheeled around or carried by a small handle. Too bad she couldn't strap them to her back.

Miranda tossed the bags on the uncomfortable looking twin bed to the left. It was under a window overlooking the parking lot.

The other bed had the head against the wall and the end sticking to the middle of the room. And it had a pile of bags on it.

"I'm in hell," she muttered, looking at the cinder block walls that reminded her way too much of a prison cell.

"Join the club," an incredibly gorgeous guy said, grinning at her and eyeing her appreciatively , as he exited a bathroom in the corner of the room, on the other side of the already claimed bed. She assumed by him.

"You must be Rob," Ryan said with an amused smile, pointing to the star on the door.

Rob looked at the door, to her, back to the door, to her pink and purple suitcases on her bed, and then laughed.

"Don't tell me you're Ryan," he said, looking back at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Afraid so. I guess I forgot to check the little box that said female," Ryan said, making a check mark with her finger.

Rob sat on the bed and took his time to look her over with his sexy brown eyes.

"So, what are we going to do about this?" he asked with a wink and a mischievous smile.

"I'm calling the housing office, so you can just forget about what's in your perverted little mind," she said, raising an eyebrow to indicate that she knew just what he was thinking.

"It wasn't perverted. Not yet, anyway," he said with a sigh, "But I'll be sure to let you know when it is," he said, his eyes traveling her body.

He winked when his eyes finally met hers again. She raised her eyebrow at him again, showing she wasn't amused. His eyes twinkled back, knowing she was.

"Hey," a blonde, lanky, guy with glasses said, coming into the room.

"Hey, I'm Rob," Rob said, shaking the scrawny little guy's hand. Computer geek came into mind as a definition of him.

"And I'm Ryan," she said, standing up and flashing him a gorgeous smile.

"Whoa," the guy said, taking a step back and stared, admiring the blonde beauty.

"You must be Larry," Rob said, knowing what the guy was thinking; the girl was a knockout. She was like something out of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition, he thought, as his eyes, on their own accord, skimmed her incredible body again. Her body was well toned as if she exercised regularly or played sports.

She had a small waist and a flat stomach, which he imagined was just as toned as her arms and legs. Rob couldn't help but check out the nice curves of her tank top. Her breasts were large, high, and perky. She was showing some impressive cleavage from the scoop neck of her shirt.

Her face was oval shaped with plush lips made for kissing. And she had dark blue eyes framed with golden lashes. Her hair was golden blonde as well, it flowed down her back to her waist in soft curls.

When she had turned to talk to Larry, he nearly groaned aloud at the sight of her nicely rounded ass. It took everything in him not to reach out and let a hand slide over it. It was meant for grabbing, holding, squeezing.

God, if this was going to be his college roommate, then he no longer had an issue with being undercover in college!

"Yeah, how'd you know?" the guy asked, pushing his glasses up at the bridge of his nose.

It took Rob a moment to remember what he'd said. He'd been so focused on Ryan's exquisite body. Oh, yes, he'd guessed the guy's name was Larry based on the names on the door.

"Just a hunch." Rob shrugged and then leaned back against one of his bags.

"Hi, everyone" another guy peered into the room. He was a curly haired brunette with brown eyes. "I'm Joe."

"And the fabulous four is complete," Rob said.

"What's going on?" Joe asked, looking around the room. His eyes rested on Ryan, and like Rob and Larry had, slowly lingered down and then back up her body.

"Jesus," Joe muttered under his breath. Rob had heard the exclamation. Hopefully, Ryan hadn't.

"It seems like Ryan is a girl," Rob grinned, looking over at the hottie, who, he was at the moment thanking God for making his roommate.

"Thanks for noticing." Ryan dropped onto her bed with a slight bounce. Her, uh, attributes did a nice little jiggle that had all three guys eyes widening and mouth's drooling.

"Oh, sweetheart, we're having no problem noticing," Rob said in a lustful tone.

She threw an uncovered pillow at him. He smiled at her as he used her pillow to get more comfortable on the bed.

"So, what are we going to do? She can't be here," Larry said in almost panic to the group. "No offense, Ryan," he added, turning to her quickly.

"None taken." She ran her hand through her hair, unknowingly driving the three guys crazy.

Larry and Joe just stared. Rob was amused, but found himself slightly jealous. She was his roommate after all, he should be the only one that got to check her out.

"We're calling housing. They'll switch her to a girl's room," Rob said simply.

So he wouldn't have to lust after an eighteen year old girl every day for the length of his investigation, however long that was going to take. Because he would lust over her, she was so damn gorgeous.

"I don't know. I hear housing is a madhouse. People are actually physically fighting for rooms," Joe spoke up, wrenching his eyes away from Ryan to look at Rob.

"They can't have a girl living with three guys!" Larry said in a nervous voice.

Ryan frowned."Why not?"

"You're kidding, right?" Larry asked incredulously.

"I don't have a problem with it if you guys don't. I get along better with guys anyway." She shrugged.

Miranda lived with three guys in real life, it wouldn't matter much to her living with these three boys.

She preferred male company. Females were more complicated. They had too many emotions and too much drama to deal with. Miranda had learned long ago to keep her emotions under check. She wasn't one to cry at a hallmark card commercial or a sad movie. She had been raised to be tough and she was.

"I'm sure you're a perfectly nice roommate and all," Rob told her gently, "but we'd better report this and see what housing says. I don't want us to get in trouble for living together."

"What are you? The dorm patrol?" Joe asked annoyed.

"We've got an, excuse me, Ryan, an incredibly hot babe here, and you just want to toss her out?!" Joe demanded.

"Can I room with him?" Ryan asked with a grin, pointing to Joe.

"Anytime, hot mama," Joe wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her.

Rob checked himself, pushing the jealousy down as she flirted with Joe.

"I'm not saying I have a problem with it. I don't." God help him, he didn't, he'd give anything to keep her in his bedroom. His bed.

"I'm just saying, we can get in some serious shit if housing finds out. Especially, if anything ever happened to her," Rob said to Joe.

"And what's going to happen to me, Rob?" Ryan demanded, crossing her arms.

"You ever hear of date rape?" Rob asked her with a serious face.

"You think Joe or Larry would try something with me?" she raised an eyebrow at him, as if silently communicating, really?

"I'm talking about any guy in this dorm! You're a beautiful girl with a beautiful body and just walking down the hall looking like..." his eyes skimmed her body again.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself." Miranda angrily crossed her arms over her chest, where his eyes had stopped and lingered.

"I'm not saying that you can't! I'm just saying that we've got to think about all the angles here. Good and bad," Rob explained with true concern in his voice.

Miranda stared at him. She saw in his face that he truly was worried about her.

And she didn't blame him for checking her out. She was used to it after all. It wasn't the first time a guy stared at her boobs, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

She'd developed early and well, to her own frustration. She'd always been a tomboy and growing breasts suddenly changed her relationship with boys.

Around twelve years old, boys no longer wanted to hang out with her because she was good at sports. They wanted to hang out with her so they could look down her shirt.

It took her a long time to feel good about herself and be comfortable in her new skin. Eventually, she learned how to use her looks to her advantage.

Miranda sighed. She gave up, and threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Alright. Fine, boys. I'll call housing." She stretched across her bed to the nightstand behind her, which had a landline phone.

The boys admired her rear as she did so and then quickly looked away as she straightened.

"Does anyone have the number?" she asked, holding the phone to her ear, ready to dial.

Larry cleared his throat. "It's in the catalog. I've got one." He left quickly to retrieve it for her.

"Surprise, surprise," Rob muttered, leaning on his bag.

Ryan studied Rob. He was incredibly gorgeous that was for sure. And he knew it. He had a cocky confidence about him. He had dark wavy hair that was moussed back. Dark brown eyes with dark thick eyelashes, the kind women desperately tried to achieve with cosmetics. Why was it that men always got the nice, long, thick, eyelashes?

He had a movie star smile. And an awesome, well built, tanned body. Maybe Italian descent, she thought.

She admired the rippling biceps as he leaned on his arm on the bag. He had a black tattoo around his left bicep, like a band of thorns wrapped around his arm. She mentally beat herself up for having the "hots" for an eighteen year old, but Lord have mercy, he was hot.

Larry returned with the catalog and she dialed the number. "Hi, this is Ryan Grant. There's been a bit of a mix up with my housing assignment. Yes, I understand that, however, I'm a girl, and I've been put in a room suite with three boys," she explained.

She held the phone away as she heard loud laughter. "Ma'am, what should we do about this?" she asked.

"No, I understand your situation. Well, we all don't mind living together as long as the university doesn't. Okay. Alright. No problem. Sure. Bye."

"What did they say besides laughing their asses off?" Joe asked.

"They suggested that I, or Rob, sleep on the couch until they can straighten out all the other messes around campus for people that don't have a room. And then they'll get back to us," Ryan explained.

"Have you seen that thing?" Rob asked, pointing back to the living room with his thumb.

"I have. Apparently, she hasn't. Or she doesn't care," Ryan said, rolling her eyes.

"Look, there's no way I'm sleeping on that thing. And you can't either. I don't care if you sleep in here. I have a sister and we shared a room for years. We made it work."

"Yeah, but did your sister look like her?" Joe asked.

"Aren't you sweet?" Ryan said, smiling at him.

It was nice getting attention from some boys. Her teammates had long ago stopped looking at her with admiring eyes as they became her brothers.

And the other guys in the FBI knew that she would kick their asses if they looked at her the wrong way. At least, the older ones did.

She enjoyed harassing the rookies. They soon enough learned not to stare at her breasts or butt. But, that was work. She needed to keep it professional so that she would be treated with respect.

But now, having someone like Joe and Larry look at her was nice actually. They were two innocent teenage boys who just admired her for her beauty. They'd probably never even been kissed, the poor boys.

Rob, she could tell, wasn't all that innocent. He was a gorgeous guy, who knew it, and used it to his advantage. She could tell that he wasn't having innocent thoughts. And to be honest, neither was she. She raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stare.

"I promise to behave," Rob said, clutching his heart.

" 'Cha right." Ryan said, rolling her eyes.

She sensed, already, that Rob thought he was some sort of ladies man.

Rob cracked a smile. He hadn't heard that expression from the Wayne's World movies in quite a while.

Rob tilted his head to look at her butt. "I don't see any monkeys."

She grinned that he had known the reference that she had made.

"Hey, how come you get to room with her?" Joe complained.

"We were assigned," Rob said dramatically, pointing to the stars on the door. Plus, he was older; he has first dibs.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Ryan asked, as she started feeling like they were fighting over a possession.

The guys shrugged as if they had lost the battle between themselves.

"Although I appreciate you guys fighting over me. I do agree with Rob. I'll stay where I was put."

"Okay," Joe grumbled, disappointed he got stuck with Larry and not the babe. Rob smiled to himself.

"Look, it's not like I didn't want you or anything," Rob said later as they unpacked.

She turned to look at him with an amused look.

"Let me rephrase that," Rob chuckled. "I just wanted what was best for you."

"I appreciate that," she answered, throwing her bright purple comforter on her bed. She thought the color screamed sorority material. Personally, she couldn't stand the color.

"You're really okay with this?" Rob asked, finally finding the sheets for his bed at the bottom of one of his bags.

She looked at the pile of sheets he pulled out. They were black. She missed her black sheets at home. She shrugged, "I've got mace."

He froze in surprise, and then laughed. "Thanks for the warning," he said, spreading his sheets across the bed.

"No wonder half the country has back problems," Rob muttered as they were settling down for the night.

Ryan groaned as she lay down on her own bed. "I want my bed." She groaned.

She elected to wear shorts and a tee shirt to bed. She normally slept in short silky nighties, but she wasn't about to give Rob a show.

He had worn the same shorts and tee shirt he was wearing all day to bed. She rolled her eyes when she saw him do so; college kids, so lazy they don't even change for bed.

"With all the money that we pay for tuition, you'd think they could get us some decent beds," Rob muttered, pounding on his pathetic pillow trying to get comfortable.

"I say we strike," Ryan said with a yawn.

"They'll just find some other poor schlubs to pay for the room," Rob answered.

They went quiet for a minute.

"Night, Rob." Ryan said into the darkness.

"Goodnight, Ryan."

He looked over at her. The room was dark except for a stream of light coming in from the street light outside the window, which gave him enough room to see her dimly.

Her eyes were closed, her blonde head resting on a cotton candy pink pillow case. He'd had so much fun flirting, joking around, and just bantering with the girl all day.

She was just a kid, but he enjoyed her company incredibly more than any woman he'd ever met or went out with.

And she was way hotter than all of the women that he had dated to top it off. He had hoped that she would have come out of the bathroom, ready for bed, in some skimpy thing, but the innocent girl had come out in gym shorts and a tee shirt.

He usually slept in the buff, but he opted not to this time for the girl's sake. He just kept the clothes he'd been wearing on, not knowing what else to sleep in.

"By the way, I snore," he said, not wanting to go to sleep yet.

"Great," she muttered sarcastically.

"I was joking," he answered with a smile, knowing she knew that already.

"Good because I was going to pound you if it were true, I'm a light sleeper," she said, tossing in the bed.

"I'll try not to wake you," he answered, looking up at the ceiling after he got a glance of her luscious long legs as she messed with the covers. She's eighteen, he told himself. Only eighteen.

"This should be interesting," she said, squirming around to get comfortable.

You're telling me, he thought. "What do you think of Larry and Joe?"

"They're okay," she answered. She hadn't made much of a decision on them yet.

"Yeah, yeah they're alright. Larry's actually a lot cooler than I thought. He knows his computer stuff, though. Man, did you see all that equipment he brought with him?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be somebody, someday," she answered quietly.

"So, uh..." he started.

He wanted to ask her what she thought of him, but decided against it. Don't go there, he thought.

"Night, Rob," she said again smiling.

"Sorry. Night. I'm a bit talkative, aren't I?"

"Is this going to happen every night?" she asked with a sigh.

"Shutting up now," he answered with a smile.