A/N: Welcome, one and all, to my my Triple X fanfic! I wrote this when i was going through my Vin Diesel phase but it never got up until i got to the secon chappie. Now, I'VE HAD IT! IT'S BEING POSTED! LOL anyway, enjoy!


She raced down the street, but the man behind her was still on her tail. Weaving in and out of people, she looked behind her every few steps, breathing heavily from running. She could spot them a mile away. Feds. All of them were alike. They all had that trimmed look, even when they were grunged out, they were all the same.

She dodged into an alley and shoved herself against the wall as a crowd of people passed it. She held her breath when she saw the fed following her stop at the entrance and look around, but the bonehead didn't think to look down the alley, as his back was to her. He rushed down the street and only when he was far enough away did she let out a sigh of relief.

Smiling triumphantly she turned and headed down the alley. But someone was waiting for her. Another fed. This one didn't bother trying to make her come quietly. She gasped when her nose brushed against the barrel of the gun he was pointing in her face, her sapphire eyes wide in terrified shock as her hands shot into the air.

"C-Come on, man," she shuddered. "I gotta eat somehow. Just gimme a slap on the wrist or somethin' huh?"

The fed said nothing as she started backing up, slowly. He lowered the gun slightly, and she gave another sigh of relief, though it was subtle. This wasn't the first time she'd had a gun pointed in her face, but it still terrified her, and each time was one too many.

"That's better," she said with a quick smile, and moved some of her bleached blonde hair from her face. "Now, I'm gonna turn around…" She spun slowly around on her heel. "…and walk away."

A small pop came from behind her and she groaned in pain when something pricked her back hard through her clothes.

"Ouch," she grumbled as she suddenly felt sleepy. "That wasn't cool."

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she collapsed onto the cement slowly, still breathing, just sleeping.

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Natasha opened her eyes, slowly, her head splitting from…who knew what that fed had shot her with. Giving a groan, she lifted her head and rubbed her eyes before squinting to try to figure out where she was. It looked like a bar, and a really bad one at that. She saw all the neon lights behind the bar she sat at and heard billiard balls clicking together behind her, but she didn't turn around.

"Well, look who just woke up."

She jumped with a start when she realized the bartender was standing a few feet away on his side of the bar and smirking at her.

"Nice to see you're not dead," he continued and she frowned at him slightly, but dismissed it.

"How did I end up here?" she asked instead in a raw voice.

"Some guy dropped you off here," the bartender shrugged, serving up a mug of beer for another man at the bar. "Didn't give a name or anything, just flopped you into the chair and told me to watch you. Gave me twenty bucks for it."

"Twenty isn't much," she thought to herself. "Especially to watch someone stranger who could be a murderer for all you know. He looks like a guy who would want fifty for this sort of job."

She filed the thought away in her mind and chanced at glancing over her shoulder. Five guys all dressed in biker studs and leather were playing pool, but she noticed something strange about all of them. One of the guys was awfully scrawny to be a biker…he looked like a guy the other ones picked on. She didn't doubt that was probably the case, but she filed that away in her mind as well.

She suddenly realized one the burlier bikers was looking at her and grinning and she turned back to the bar. The clicking of the billiard balls stopped, and she heard faint mumbles and chuckles but still didn't turn around.

"You know, if I had known I was gonna be kidnapped and brought into a biker bar, I wouldn't have worn this outfit showing all this leg and all this cleavage," she thought to herself. She pulled the edges of her pink sweater a little more over her chest and quickly zipped it up. At least she could cover that much. She felt panicked when she heard footsteps behind her and took a silent deep breath to calm herself.

"Hey, babe," a deep, smoker's voice smirked behind her. "What's your name?"

"Amanda," she lied, not looking at him. She groaned inwardly when she saw a guy lean on the bar next to her out of the corner of her eye, one of the other's on the other side of her.

"If only it were true," he smirked and she shot a glare at him.

"What do you care?" she retorted.

"I'd wanna call you by the right name in bed," he grinned, smugly and Natasha rolled her eyes as she looked away from him. "Come on, sweet cheeks. What's your real name?"

"None of your business," she snapped. She jumped when she felt his hand on her rear and turned a burning gaze at him then warned through gritted teeth, "Get your hand off my ass."

"But it's such a nice ass," he smirked again as his buddies chuckled all around her.

"I'm warning you," she replied. "If you don't get your hand off my ass in two seconds, I'll knock you on yours."

"Oh, I like a girl who can play rough," he retorted, giving her rear a squeeze.

Natasha knocked his hand away with her forearm and swung herself around on the stool she sat on and kicked him in the stomach. He grunted and doubled over, backing away.

One of his buddies came up behind her and threw his arms around her from behind. She threw her head back, smacking her head into his nose and he too stumbled away in pain, letting her go as she stood from the stool.

Another took a swing at her but she ducked and swung a high kick at his head, sending him to the ground.

The scrawny guy yanked another one of the bikers in front of him and that one charged her. She stepped out of the way and he ran into the bar with enough momentum to throw him over it and onto the bartender's side.

She turned to the scrawny biker who stared back at her in terror as she took a fighting stance, waiting for him to attack. He swallowed and was about to try to fight her when the other guy at the bar stopped him.

"That's enough," he called and Natasha frowned as she turned to the bar. The man stood and turned to her. He was a black man in a suit, which she had noticed before, but had decided to file that away instead of question it, and he had a large scar on the left side of his face.

"These doofs yours?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. The man chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You can say that," he nodded. "That was very impressive, Miss Pierson."

"Awfully rude to know someone's name and not introduce one's self," she retorted, flipping some of her hair from her face.

"The name's Gibbons," he replied.

"Well, I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying," she said. "Now what the hell am I doing here?"

"You were taking a test, which you passed," he replied, vaguely.

"A test," she echoed slowly, dipping her chin down and raising a brow at him, then nodded in realization. "Oh, that's why this all seems fake!

"First, the bartender saying he was given only twenty bucks to watch me, when clearly it would take more than that for anyone in this bar to watch out for me. Second, a well dressed man in a bar like this? Unlikely. And then the fact that this guy over here…" She gestured to the scrawny man behind her, "…doesn't even look like a biker!" She stared at Gibbons for a moment with a huge, fake grin that dropped to a bored stare as she said, "This was a stupid, inaccurately portrayed test."

Gibbons started laughing and she rolled her eyes. When he was finished laughing he said, "Well, you'll certainly get along with him."

"Him?" Natasha frowned as he walked towards the door and she hurried after him. "What the hell---?! Who's 'him'?! No, wait, I don't care! I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me what's going on! Who the hell do you work for?!"

He turned around and they both stopped near the door as he turned to her with a smirk and said, "Welcome to the NSA, agent Pierson."

He strolled off toward the door, leaving Natasha seemingly nailed to the floor in shock, her wide eyes still staring at the door.

"NSA?" she breathed and the scrawny biker came up behind her.

"That's right," he smiled and she whipped her head around to stare her wide eyes at him.

"What do you mean, 'That's right'?!" she questioned. "I'm a criminal! Do you know how many streets I've walked for money?! How many perfectly executed robberies I've arranged with gangs?! I was trying to get away from the feds because of that, and now they want me to become one?!"

"It's a new program," the man shrugged, glancing around at the other men on the floor who were just now starting to get up then turned back to her. "It's called The Triple X Program."

"What the hell is it? They bring in scum bags and try to turn them around to work for the greater good?"

"Not exactly. He'll tell you all about it."

"Who? Scarface over there?"

"No. Your new partner. He was the one that started it all."

"Who the hell is he?!"

"You'll see," the guy smirked, heading toward the door and Natasha followed. "He's not a guy that can be described. You have to meet him."

"Great," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Can I at least know his name?"

"Xander Cage."

A/N: yes, yes, it was very similar to Xander's test, and it was oh so foreseeable that she was gonna be his partner. I know, i know. I'm predictable aren't i? i really don't know where the whole Triple X Program came from. i just figured they'd continue with it since it worked so well the first time. well, reviews, please?