A/N: I'm not sure how this happened; personally, I blame Robin. Her challenge was to send corporate Ranger to a swanky golf club and schmooze with clients for the weekend and make it funny. For some reason, Ranger thought that he could take his girlfriend, Bailey – albeit in her Amanda Dawson interior designer guise, and she'd behave herself. This is set after Reality Bites.

The theme of Swollen, is from my own weekly challenge on RM.

And Dark Knight fans, fear not... I'm working on the next chapter.

Tee'd Off

Chapter One

The mercenary curled up on my couch was engrossed in Soldier of Fortune, mug of Earl Grey tea in her hand. She'd shucked her designer clothes as soon as she'd walked through the door and was now clad in ratty combat shorts and a tank top. It seemed to me that she was not a fan of pretending to be an interior designer from London to gain access to my penthouse, or the public facing side of my life.

"… just for the weekend, babe. So what do you say?"

Bailey looked up and frowned. "What?"

I sighed. "This weekend, Cape Cod. Were you even listening?"

She turned the magazine around and shook it at me. "Look, weapons, shiny things, improved night vision rifle scopes; you said something about golf and I zoned out."

I sat down on the edge of the coffee table, plucked the magazine from her fingers and tossed it to the floor at her feet. "Listen to me for five seconds, please. I have to go to a golf resort in Cape Cod this weekend to snare a high profile client; I need you to come along as my girlfriend, and play nice with his wife while I play golf with this guy."

Bailey snorted. "Hire an escort, Ric."

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Please, it's just three nights."

"So take Anthony, I'm sure that he can keep the wife occupied," she retorted. "Or send Lester and Bobby to confuse them."

Crap, why couldn't she make this easy for me for once? "I bought you some new clothes," I offered as an olive branch.

She picked at the frayed hole on the leg of her shorts and shrugged. "I'd rather have that new scope for my rifle."

"Christ, Bailey! Why can't my girlfriend behave like a normal woman?"

"Right, 'cos we all know how well it worked out when you tried that whole normal thing, Ric," she groused as she fished a pack of cigarettes from the side pocket of her shorts.

"Not in my apartment," I growled.

"For fuck's sake," Bailey snarled as she stomped across the room and snatched her keys from the silver dish by the front door. She paused, hand on the knob, then turned and marched to the fridge and pulled out a six pack of beer. Finally she grabbed her magazine from the floor. "I'll be on the roof having a smoke, and don't worry, I'll scramble the cameras in the stairwell so your men don't see me looking like a mercenary on a fucking government watch list."

I stood up and took a step towards her. "Bailey."

"Oh wait, I am a mercenary on a fucking government watch list! I should have stayed home; the guys and I were planning on watching a couple of films. Shit, if you wanted sex then you should have just come over to my place; I'm sick and tired of dragging my arse across town, Ric. I hate having to pretend to be something I'm not just to see you. I'll be back down here later," she snarled as she slammed the door shut behind her.

I winced as the front door reverberated in its frame and then strode to the fridge to get my own beer. Shit, she'd taken the damn lot with her; this was a fucking mess. I needed her to come to Cape Cod with me tomorrow; it was expected that I bring my wife or girlfriend to this little social get-together. I hated this side of my business, but as CEO, the honor fell to me.

Then again I guess I could send Anthony in my stead…

I pulled my cell from my back pocket and hit the speed dial for his sat phone; it went straight to voice mail, and I didn't bother to leave a message.

With Bailey sulking on the roof and my brother on the phone, I decided to go back to the paperwork that was burying my desk in my home office.

Half an hour, and the beginnings of a tension headache later, I tried Anthony again.

He picked up on the first ring. "Don't even try it, brother."

Huh? "Pardon?"

"I'm not playing nice with some moron because you can't get your woman to wear some designer dress and make inane small talk all weekend."

"How do you… No, don't bother, Anthony," I said with a sigh. "Why does she always have to call you when we have a problem, anyway?"

He laughed. "Because I'm used to dealing with your miserable ass and can offer sage and impartial advice to a friend in need."

"Bastard," I growled.

"You want my input, big brother?"

"Fine, you may as well."

"She's a mercenary, Ranger; cut her a deal, make it worth her while. Offer to buy her that new rifle scope she's after in Soldier of Fortune – it is very nice by the way; I'm tempted to get one myself. Or take a few more days off and go somewhere else afterwards, somewhere she'd want to go, somewhere she can be Bailey and not whoever it is you expect her to play when she's out in public.

"You can dress her in Gucci, send her to a salon and make her look real pretty, but at the end of the day, underneath all that crap, she's still Bailey, and she's getting tired of playing the game, man. You're gonna lose her if you're not careful; don't you think that she's already made enough sacrifices to be with you?"

"Anthony, I just…"

"Ranger, your lover is sitting on the roof of your building chain smoking, and reading by Maglite in the fucking rain, because at least up there she can be who she is, rather than be down there with you and be something she's not. Don't fuck this up, or you will regret it. I might not, but I digress…"

I growled. "Don't even think about it."

"Go fix this fucked up mess," he said sternly and hung up.

I did indeed find my lover on the roof in the rain. She was sat under the overhang of one of the ventilation ducts, bottle of beer in one hand, cig in the other.

I stopped a couple of feet in front of her and squatted down. "I've come to offer you a job."

She raised an eyebrow.

"We need to get close to a guy called Philip Anderson, and his wife, Jessica. The intel I have says that they're going to be at an exclusive golf resort in Cape Cod this weekend. I can make contact with Anderson during a round of golf, while I suggest that you try and get in with the wife over drinks or at the spa."

"I see," she replied.

"Clothes will be provided, and all expenses met for the duration of the mission. I've taken the liberty of ordering a new night vision scope for your sniper rifle; not that I think you'll need it on this job, but I believe it would be an excellent addition to your collection of hardware in the long run.

"I've also earmarked the company jet for Monday morning, just in case there is somewhere you wish to go for a few days R&R after completion of said job. So, can I expect your expertise on this challenging mission, Bailey?"

She frowned; clearly she wanted to play hardball. "I have a few conditions, Ranger."

I nodded, "Go on."

"I reserve the right to abort my portion of the mission at any moment if I fear for my sanity; at which point I shall retreat to the rendezvous at the nearest hot tub, and arm myself with a very large drink. I also demand time alone with my partner, specifically naked in a hot tub in order to conduct covert operations of a more personal nature. After completion of this hazardous job, I also expect to spend at least three days somewhere out of the way with a very sexy man and a large box of condoms. So soldier, what do you say?"

I smiled and got to my feet. "I think we have a deal."

"You can supply me with the hot bloke, correct?"

"I think I can handle that."

Bailey looked me up and down. "Are you trying to fob me off with some cheap imitation of a hot man, soldier?"

I coughed. "No ma'am."

She took another swig of beer. "Strip, show me what you've got to offer."

Shit, she was a menace to my sanity and libido. "Here?"

"Right here, or the deal's off."

"Fine," I gritted out. "I was not aware that you drove such a hard bargain."

"My skills are second to none, but I need to be sure that yours are acceptable also."

I pulled off my now damp t-shirt and tossed it to her. "Well?"

Bailey licked her lips and nodded. "Not bad, carry on."

I toed off my boots and socks, and then slowly unzipped my cargos; I had to push the wet fabric down my legs so I could remove them.

Bailey stood up and grasped my now swollen cock. "You know how to use this, soldier?"

I gasped as she squeezed hard. "Yeah."

"Pardon?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy. Now show me what you can do with it, and if I'm satisfied with your performance I'll consent to this mission."