Author's Note: Welcome to my first This Means War fic. Please be kind. Let me know what you think. Thanks much in advance!

A New War

Chapter 1

"I'll let you shoot first as long as you get out of this terrible mood you're in," FDR said.

Tuck eyed his partner warily, but said nothing.

"Seriously, man; I don't like seeing you like this. It's…weird," FDR continued.

"Well, I'm sorry. My marriage just failed…again. I had to miss my son's karate match today and we're stuck in DC in the middle of winter," Tuck grumbled. "There was a reason I moved to California from Britain."

"Yeah, your parents moved here…" FDR mumbled.

The two CIA agents had been in the country's capital for about 18 hours. It hadn't stopped snowing and everyone in the damn city seemed miserable.

Tuck adjusted the collar of his navy blue pea coat to keep the snow off of the back of his neck and sighed.

"I'm sorry, mate. I know you're missing Lauren, too," Tuck said in his English accented voice.

FDR nodded and kicked the snow off the top of his boot as they walked.

"She wasn't exactly pleased when I told her two seconds after she told me she was pregnant that I was flying across country for an unknown length of time," FDR said.

"I can imagine," Tuck conceded. "I am really pleased for the both of you, mate."

"I know you are. Just because you're sullen and grouchy all the time doesn't mean you aren't still my best friend," FDR said.

"So you'll be naming the child after me?" Tuck asked, finally cracking a smile.

"What if it's a girl?" FDR smiled. "I mean, it works for me, but…"

"Shut up," he said as he landed a swift elbow to FDR's ribs.

"I really wanted it to work out with Katie," Tuck said. "I just…"

"You wanted it to work for Joe. Not you or Katie. And that's admirable, dude, for sure. But you need to be happy, too."

"Relationship advice from you?"

"Who's the happily married man in this conversation?"

Tuck knew that FDR was right. He and Lauren had gotten married just over six months ago and FDR had shared the good news about their impending child on the flight out to Washington DC.

The two men turned down an alley and met with an informant on their case. The man they spoke with had a thick accent, Slavic in nature, Tuck decided, although it was hard for him to distinguish from behind a thick balaclava. The information, however, was exactly what both Tuck and FDR thought they were going to get.

It was not good news in the slightest.

The items that were being fenced, some of the most precious and rare gems in existence, had already gone to the black market. And these people weren't the kind of people that felt it necessary to record the whereabouts of the fenced items.

"Collins isn't going to be pleased," Tuck said as they started their walk back to their hotel across town.

"Collins isn't the only one. Lauren is going to be pissed," FDR said. "I told her this would be an easy one."

"Like she actually believed you? You always say that," Tuck laughed.

"I can't help that I'm incredibly believable," FDR replied. "But I think I have a solution for your problem."

"What problem?" Tuck asked.

"I think you just need to get laid."

Tuck threw a dirty look in FDR's direction, but did not answer him.

"Seriously; when was the last time you've had sex?" FDR asked.

Their hotel was now in sight and Tuck just wanted to get inside and get warm. He didn't want to answer anymore of his questions.

"It's none of your business," Tuck replied in a clipped tone.

"I have two responses for that," he held up one finger. "One: you're my best friend and therefore your business is my business and two," he held up a second finger. "Two: that response means it's been far too long."

FDR laughed, but Tuck looked like he was going to punch him.

"I'm extremely happy for both you and Lauren," he said as they strolled up to the doors of their hotel. "I just haven't been attracted to anyone since…"

FDR was first at the doors and pulled it open as Tuck noticed first a man running towards them and then a woman chasing after him. Without hesitation Tuck took the steps down quickly and tackled the man to the ground, knocking the wind out of both him and the guy in the process.

Tuck, breathing hard, looked up as the woman who he now realized was wearing high heels and only a thin coat, was carrying a Glock and had handcuffs in her hands, too.

"Thanks, mate," she said in a softly accented voice.

Tuck smiled up at her.

"No problem," he replied.

She had long, dark hair and a slim body. The high heels were actually knee high boots with extremely thin heels. It was a miracle she hadn't done serious injury to herself running in them.

"Do you need…?" he said as he motioned towards the man on the ground.

"I'm fine," she said putting her right knee into the man's back. He made a loud groaning sound and Tuck saw a smile form on her perfectly shaped lips.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He didn't want to walk away from her; he was drawn to her for some reason.

She nodded.

"Come on, Tuck. She said she's got it," FDR called. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the woman's face. He thought he recognized her, but said nothing further.

Tuck watched as the woman got her handcuffs around the man's beefy wrists. He struggled against her, but she didn't let up and eventually the man gave up his fight and lay limply on the ground.

The woman hauled the restrained man to his feet without much effort.

"Thank you," the woman said again in her accented voice.

"Are you a cop?" Tuck asked.

"Bond enforcement agent," she replied.

"A bounty hunter," Tuck smiled. "Pretty professional skills for a bounty hunter."

The handcuffed man spat in Tuck's direction, but he sidestepped the insult and it fell to the left of his feet.

"A woman has to know how to protect herself," she replied, throwing a hood over the man's head. "Sorry about that," she said, apologizing for the man in her custody.

"No problem," Tuck replied. "You're sure you're all right?"

She nodded. "I've handled bigger ones than this before," she smiled, obviously flirting with him.

She and Tuck locked eyes for a few more seconds before she turned her attention back to the man in her custody.

"Come on, shove on," she said to the man to get him to start walking. "Don't make me use the taser."

She started back down the street, speaking Russian to the man. Tuck strained his ears to hear what she was saying. He could make out that she was asking, no, demanding, that he tell her where something was.

As he was concentrating, he didn't notice FDR walk down the steps towards him. He jumped a mile when he clasped him on the back.

"Holy shit," Tuck replied, looking at his best friend for an explanation.

FDR shrugged. "You were staring at her."

Tuck shook his head and headed up the stairs to the hotel once more. "She was asking that man where something was. It sounded important."

"Let it go, Tuck," FDR said. "Let's get a drink."

Tuck nodded at his friend and then followed him into the hotel's bar.

"What was all that about?" FDR said once he had a beer in front of him.

Tuck took a long drink of his own and studied the fingerprints that he'd left on the chilled glass.

"What?"

"Earth to Tuck," FDR said.

Tuck looked up and into his friend's face.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I just wonder who she was," Tuck said by means of an explanation.

"Why didn't you ask Ms. Bounty Hunter for a business card when you helped tackle her perp?" FDR asked laughing. "I mean, you probably could go get yourself arrested and jump bail."

"That's really funny, mate," Tuck replied without a single touch of amusement in his voice.

Working for the CIA, both Tuck and FDR had met their fair share of beautiful women. A long while ago, he'd met Katie. She was funny, cute and smart. But before he could say that he'd fallen entirely in love with her, they found out she was pregnant.

Tuck had married Katie out of obligation more than anything. And he'd been blessed with Joe who was the best son that could have ever existed. Tuck and Katie learned to love one another, if for the sake of their son, but it didn't matter. It wasn't enough. Tuck was constantly gone, constantly lying to both Katie and Joe. They divorced and they split custody of their son.

Then, in an act of desperation and pure luck, he'd met Lauren Scott. But, so had FDR. What had ensued after that was comical now, but had been incredibly frustrating at the time.

Tuck couldn't begrudge his best friend the love he'd found with Lauren, though. Even though he wished it was himself, he and Lauren made a great couple. And now they were expecting a child.

This woman, despite only having spoken to her for a short while, intrigued him. Even though Tuck had assisted her in the take down, she'd been able to handcuff the guy and haul him to his feet by herself. He'd tried to memorize her face and body as best as he could; he was going to find her.

FDR finished his beer.

"I'm going to call Collins," he said, standing up. "See you upstairs."

Tuck nodded and FDR walked out of the bar, smirking to himself.

… …

The man, handcuffed behind his back with the hood over his head, sat in a chair in a white room. He was all alone. Until he heard the door scrape open and a pair of heels click across the floor. The steps stopped right in front of him and the hood was ripped from him.

The man hung his head down, not meeting her eyes.

"Bounty hunter, my ass," the man said in a low tone. It was the first thing he'd said since she'd cuffed him.

She pushed up the sleeves of her jacket and inspected her fingernails.

"You chipped one of my nails," she said, no accent this time. "And you're right; I'm not a bounty hunter."

"You look damn good in those boots," he replied.

"Mr. Roberts…that's what you're going by now, right? It's Alexander Vladimir, really, though, right?"

He said nothing.

"Listen, it's late, I have a flight to catch back home. You got tackled by a stranger and handcuffed by a girl, it's been a rough night," she said. "I'm Agent Amanda Simons and I work for the CIA."

She leaned against the other table and stretched her legs out in front of her. She was dressed in dark skinny jeans and a black zip up athletic jacket. She was still wearing the knee high boots from earlier. She had blue eyes and dark curly hair.

The man looked her over approvingly, but still said nothing.

Amanda put her stiletto heel down into the shoeless prisoner's foot and he howled in pain. It sliced into the meat of his foot instantaneously and blood began to pool on the top before dribbling around his whole right foot.

"I need you to tell me where that last batch was headed," Amanda said, bending down to meet his eyes.

"I want a lawyer," he growled.

"I'm not a cop," she smiled back. "No one knows you're here, sir. We're going to treat you as nicely as possible while you're here, but you're going to be here for a while if you don't give me what information you have."

The man shook his head. "I don't know anything."

"Bullshit."

"Believe me when I say this, I'm the nicest person you're going to deal with here, and I put my heel through your foot," she said. "Remember that?" she pointed to his now-bloody right foot.

She walked around him and put her hands on his shoulders and massaged them for a second. He let out an involuntary groan of pleasure; his shoulders were definitely sore from being handcuffed.

Her hands moved up his neck and one dug into the hair at the back of his head. His enjoyment was lost as he growled in pain once more.

As she opened her mouth to say something, her cell phone began to ring.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket with her free hand and looked at the display. "I have to take this," she explained, not releasing her grip on the man's hair.

"Hi, honey," she said sweetly. "What's going on?"

She listened intently as the person on the other end of the phone chattered away.

"I'll definitely be home in the morning. I'll be getting home while you're still asleep and then I'll be taking you to school," Amanda explained. "I promise. Can I talk to Cameron?" she asked. "I love you, too."

She waited a second while the phone was passed along on the other end.

"Hey, Cam," she said. "Everything okay?" she waited for a response. "Yes, you can borrow those earrings. Yes, I'll be home to help with your hair in the morning. It's just a boring old business trip, you know, just meetings and taking notes."

Amanda was silent again for a minute. "Love you, Cam. Give Sophie a kiss for me. And give Thomthom a treat for me. See you in the morning."

Amanda disconnected the call and slid the phone back in her pocket.

"How touching," the man said after thirty seconds of silence.

Amanda wrenched the man's head back and looked down at him.

"Shut up. I clearly have a place to be and I made a promise. I don't break my promises. Especially to those girls."

A handful of hair, one more stiletto wound and some curse words later, Amanda had her answers. She stepped out of the room while two more agents rushed in to take care of the wounded prisoner.

"I got what we needed," she said to a tall man standing in the corner. His arms were crossed over his chest and he had an impassive look on his face.

"You aren't going to congratulate me?" she asked, smirking.

"You need to go clean the blood off of your heels."

"I'll have time on the flight back to California, Ed," she said. "Did you miss me?"

The man smiled for the first time since she'd stepped out of the interrogation room.

"Department hasn't been the same since you transferred."

"That's nice to hear," she said. "I start at the new office on Monday. I gotta go, now, though. Flight to catch."

She waved goodbye to her former boss and was gone. She had three days until she was officially back to work. It had been a hard transition, but she'd had fun spending time with the girls.

Hailing a cab, she made her way to the airport, with only her purse. It had been a last minute flight that she wasn't going to be able to do for much longer. She hated flying anyway. She just wanted to get to her new home.

She finally closed her eyes once she was on the plane. She didn't realize how exhausted she was until she'd relaxed into the plush seat. In a few hours, she'd be back to pretending she was a mild-mannered (and nerdy) secretary at a law firm. That's what her cover was for this trip. As she started to doze off, her mind wandered to the man who helped tackle her. He'd been incredibly good-looking and charming. His accent surprised her, but probably not as much as hers surprised him.

She fell into a deep sleep thinking of the man in the blue pea coat. Amanda knew she'd never see him again, especially as she was flying back to California, but he'd at least be in her dreams.