<i>"Now, get undressed.  I want to know what exactly I am working with."</i><br/><br/>It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, to refuse to do what he said.  She had never had a partner who had demanded immediately that she strip down for an inspection.  And most likely other things too.  In fact, looking into his eyes, she was pretty sure it was other things he was after. The animal half of her couldn’t help but be interested in him, at least physically.  He was a perfect specimen of what science had made possible.  The human side of her, well that side wanted nothing more than to back away from him.<br/><br/>Her upper lip curled as the two sides battled within her.  Men like Acheron hated weakness.  And Artemis would not have this beast see her as weak.  Yet there was something about the way he just demanded that she strip down that made her want to sock him in the face.  What a conceited ass.<br/><br/>“You can see what you’re working with just fine.”  The catsuit was practically painted on.  It served as protection for her skin but was extremely tight to allow extreme freedom of movement.  Getting caught on something when your objective was stealth was simply stupid.  The fabric itself was blacker than night, bordering on the darkness of Vantablack.  It served to disguise her heat signature from any thermal scans and helped her blend in more easily.  If Artemis chose to cover her face and hair, she could virtually disappear.<br/><br/>Hate burned in her eyes as she stared at this hybrid lion before her.  The fingers of her right hand curled into a fist, her knuckles growing white as they clenched.  It was only the sight of the steel bar and his massive paw that made her take a deep breath and release her fist.  It would be stupid to fight him.  He’d crush her and then Pickering would be all over her ass again.  No, best to just cooperate as best she could and get out of this pairing quickly.  It would only be one or two missions - that was her new mantra.<br/><br/>His words continued to run through her mind.  The more she heard his smug growl in her mind, the angrier she grew.  He may have established himself as an Alpha male but he wasn’t<b><i>her</i></b>Alpha.  Nor would he be at this rate.  Artemis had no idea what she was looking for in a mate nor was she exactly sure what it would feel like when she finally found the one for her but she was pretty damn sure he wasn’t it.<br/><br/>Yet this close to him, she couldn’t help but smell the salt on his skin that accentuated his natural scent.  It was a heady smell, overwhelming almost.  Artemis wanted nothing more than to back away from him, from it, before she did something she’d regret. The seats behind her prevented her from going anywhere, effectively trapping her between them and him.<br/><br/>That soft supple upper lip curled yet again; he seemed to have that effect on her.  Being trapped like this had her hackles up, had her wanting nothing more than to be free.  She was engineered for stealth and speed.  He was not.  The mental calculations happened quickly.  Her movements were quick as she twisted and ducked the opposite way from the hand holding the steel beam.  At the same time, she crouched and spun so that if he tried to grab her, he’d catch nothing but air.  Once she was safe across the plane, a smirk threatened to appear.<br/><br/>“You know, you’d probably get more of what you wanted if you at least attempted to ask nicely.  Hell, if you learn to play nicely with others, they might not even make you wear the shock collar like a damn dog.”  Artemis had a mouth on her.  She had yet to find a person, let alone a male, who did not make her want to knock them down a few pegs.  In fact, except for the hybrids on base, most men simply weren’t strong or fast enough to be able to take her down.  Not to mention her skills with weapons in close quarters.  She preferred knives, finding guns to be too loud and messy for what she was required to do.<br/><br/>At this distance, she felt more in control of herself.  Constantly inhaling his masculine scent had made it difficult for her to concentrate on anything other than wiping that look right off his face and wanting to feel his muscles capturing her, his hands on her.  With a few feet between them, she was able to take a deep breath and focus.  It was a long flight to Stockholm and she still had no idea what the mission was.  Screwing up because she couldn’t play nice with her partner for a few hours was a surefire way to draw Pickering’s ire again.<br/><br/>Her dark blue eyes locked onto his lighter ones as she began to shed her weapons in a clear sign of acquiescence.  First, she pulled the Glock 26 from the thigh holster.  Keeping their gazes locked and bending at the knees, she set it down slowly on the seat behind her.  The multitude of blades on her person was next.  From various hidden pockets around her waist and hips, she pulled a grand total of six throwing knives - Pro Flight Sport by Cold Steel.  They were the knives she had learned to throw as a young girl and she refused to use anything else no matter how much Pickering had yelled and screamed.  A well-placed knife next to the side of his head had changed his tune quickly.  The last weapon she removed was an LHR Combat Knife.  The seven blades were treated with reverence - they were sharp and she didn’t want to ruin the edges right before a mission.<br/><br/>Their eyes still locked, she reached for the zipper at the neck of her suit.  Slowly and carefully, she pulled it down until the suit was open to her navel.  Hands reached for the opposite shoulder to peel the tight fabric from her frame and down her arms.  The sleeves turned inside out as she pulled her arms from them.  Only then would she work on peeling it over her hips, a slight shimmying motion helping things along.  The prolonged eye contact finally broke as she bent down to push the catsuit down her legs to the tops of her boots.  Those she wouldn’t take off.  Nor would she take off the utilitarian black sports bra and black hipster panties that she wore under her suit.<br/><br/>“Do I meet your arbitrary requirements for a partner?”