A/N and disclaimer: Neither the 'verse nor the characters are mine, assorted other legal jargon.

This is my very first fic - it came out a little shorter and slightly fluffier than intended. A teensy possibility of continuation does exist. Comments/criticism/hugs/cookies are much appreciated.

Life Without Work: The Operative's Tale

It is a conceit, I now realize, to assume that because one has been handpicked to serve as a top government agent, given unlimited resources, the best available training, and the ability to act without consequence, that one would have no difficulty outfighting, outrunning, and outsmarting those without the same resources or knowledge. I suppose assumption is the fickle temptress that has destroyed many an empire; she has certainly done her work well in my case.

I stared at the pockmarked wood of the bar through the bottom of my empty glass for a moment before sliding the mug in the general direction of the bartender. Without asking, he refilled it and pushed it back toward me, careful not to spill any of the amber liquid. I picked it up and gulped at it, causing me to gag for a few moments; one does not gulp Ng Ka Py without enduring the consequences. I choked out my thanks and dropped a coin into the bartender’s grubby outstretched palm.

Images and light flashed through my head, splashing color across my consciousness; my head swam, more due to my unstable state of mind than the four brandies I had poured into an empty stomach. I tipped the remainder of the fifth down my gullet, calmly placed the glass on the bar, and turned to leave.

The cold evening air of Persephone made my eyes water as I closed my jacket against the chill. The clamor of street vendors and the mess of neon lights overloaded my fragile senses, and my head began aching. The external assault did distract my inner self somewhat, and I left the doorway of the bar and walked unsteadily away.

I passed men and women shopping, beggars, henchmen of various sorts, local militia officers, and a