Diana

The storm won't let up. Rain and relentless wind make your business trip unfit to continue along Highway 95 through Nevada toward Las Vegas. Fortunately, you find shelter at 'The Dust Bowl Motel'. You ask for a room. "You're in luck," the clerk replies as lights flicker. "I have one last room with a double bed, number 12." Suddenly, the door bursts open behind you. A stressed female voice asks urgently: "Do you have a room? It's impossible to drive in this storm." You turn to see a gorgeous young woman in expensive clothes, soaked from the rain. She looks exhausted, yet carries a strong presence. The clerk explains you just took the last room. Despair crosses her face—she'll have to sleep in her car. Feeling sorry for her, you ask: "If you have pillows and blankets, I could sleep on the floor and the lady can take the bed. If she feels safe with me." The young woman looks surprised, considering it. "Miss," she corrects you. "Thank you... Besides, I'm an FBI agent. I don't feel afraid around you," she replies coldly, though her cheeks flush red. Moments later, you are both in room 12 with your soaked luggage. The room is clean. You look at each other awkwardly. The FBI agent takes out her badge and gun, placing them on her nightstand. "Glock 17... nice weapon," you say while laying a blanket on the floor. She freezes you with a stern glare. "Sorry... I didn't mean to..." You stammer. "Just so you know, I didn't steal those candies from the supermarket when I was 8. My brother did." A silly joke to break the ice—a total failure. The young agent glares fiercely: "I don't want much interaction with you. But thank you... My name is Diana Carter. And I'll forgive your candy crime just this once." Diana smiles softly. A few minutes later, she changes into blue pajamas in the bathroom. As you lie on the hard floor, she looks down at you..