Chicago, Illinois: 11:55 AM
There were two sections of the Agency worth noting. The first was the main area with pristine grey hallways and tiled floor. It was nothing worth noting and was fairly dull. It had many large rooms and several small rooms for teams to work in. Every room had at least one computer and was marked with numbers and letters to depict who could be found within the room. There was a lunch hall for eating and a lounge room for breaks. Agents of all different countries could be found roaming the halls, talking to each other and their partners.
The second section of the Agency was located inside the first and heavily guarded. After you made it past the guards, one would find tiled white halls in much worse shape than the first section. Lingering traces of explosions dotted the area that led to a large room brimming with computers. It had it's own lounge room and lunch hall, separate from the other section. It was here that the Q Section toiled, and it was here that Q110 could not be found. Instead of working like the rest of the Q section within the space known as Q labs, Q110 was sitting in one of the many grey hallways, staring absent-mindedly at a wrench. His cheeks were puffed out slightly, something he did often when his mind wandered. He rolled the wrench over in his hands as he thought about many things, his brain moving faster than an airplane. Any experienced agent would know not to pay attention to the young man for he could often be found sitting in one of the many halls, ditching work to day dream and just avoid the Q labs in general. He was a pretty strange Q since he didn't wear a lab coat like the others and actually hated the coats. Instead, he wore a blue trench coat with many pockets, some of them empty and some of them not. And beneath the coat, he wore a grey shirt and brown paints. Like all Qs, he had a necklace with a special tag on it that acted as a key to get into the Q labs.
His outfit was plain but he preferred it to the stupid lab coats Qs and any visitors were required to wear in the Q labs. So Q110 spent as little time as he could inside the Q labs, instead brainstorming outside in the hallways where different sections were situated. There was much protest to this but as long as he didn't get caught by one of the more important agents or section leaders, Q110 was fine. And in the event of him getting caught, he was mostly just scolded and taken back to the Q labs. Besides, what was the harm in staying out of the labs anyway?
Shaking his head, Q110 put the wrench away and turned his gaze up to the ceiling with a large sigh. The hallway he was sitting in was growing more crowded by the second and his belly told him before he had to look at his watch that it was nearly time for lunch. Q110 frowned slightly as he recalled the fact that his lunch was in the labs then shrugged and hunched over, propping his head up with one hand that was supported by a knee. Eh, he could eat later. He wasn't ready to go back to the labs yet, he was still trying to think up a designs for a new gadget. He wasn't paranoid or anything but Q110 refused to keep blueprints. Everything was stored in his brain so that way the Agency could not fire him. Why? Because no one else knew how to fix the translators in the event of them getting broken. Which, as if to ensure he had to stick around, happened quite often. Besides, the whole mess of them were wired up to his personal laptop and he never let anyone touch his laptop. Ever.
Agent 3 entered the Agency building. His head scanned the entrance area that he had entered and exited many times in the past, he mostly scanned for other Z agents, he rarely spoke to anyone who wasn't a Z agent. At times he would talk to the guys in the Q labs about his weaponry for a specific mission which is what he was about to do now. The Z agents were all similar and all different at the same time. The top 10 had to of known each other at least as acquaintances otherwise if an emergency broke out they wouldn't be able to formulate a plan based on each others strengths and weaknesses. He fastened his tie in his left gloved hand, his other hand held the briefcase which contained the broken piece of equipment he was taking to the Q labs.
He had read just about everyone who had worked at the agencies file. It was like one big novel for him, while they couldn't actually tell him anything about the person themselves he could know their achievements and flaws. He started walking, his shoes making that clopping noise that formal shoes do on floors that are anything but carpet. He made his way along the corridors and nearer to the Q labs before seeing someone sitting in the hallway in front of him, fiddling with a wrench. He thought he knew who this was but he knew as well as anyone that no matter how much you read about someone you won't know them in person. This person had to have been part of the Q labs and so he would have had the tag to get in on him. He walked up nearer to him before putting the briefcase on the ground and speaking without looking at the scientist.
"Could you open the door please?" He asked, his voice was lowish and was in that English accent that sounded more South African and American than anything else but you would still think it was English.
Q110 blinked twice as the sound of dress shoes on tile startled him out of his mental planning and daydreaming. Darn, it would be hard to track down that train of thought again. He waited for the man wearing the shoes to pass so he could resume thinking but instead, the shoes stopped in front of him. Lifting his head off of his hand that had been propping it up, his eyes scanned the briefcase before moving up to the man in front of him. The first thing he noticed that struck him immediately was the complete lack of hair on the man's head. Poor chap. But he was wearing a suit. Did that mean he was an agent of the M Section? Q110 frowned slightly as he noticed the fact the man hadn't even bothered to look at him. Even though he was the one sitting on the ground with his legs crossed while playing with a wrench, Q110 found himself thinking that the man was incredibly rude.
"Do you have clearance?" he asked, his own accent that of a generic American. Not Southern, Not New Yorker. Just very generic. Like he was hiding his real accent. Slowly, he climbed to his feet although it really didn't help with the height difference since he was still painfully shorter than the man. He twirled the wrench around in his left hand as he rested the other on his hip. Maybe he was just bad with faces but he had no idea who this guy was. "Because I'm not supposed to open the door for anyone so I'd need to be able to confirm you have permission from one of the Section Heads or someone else that has clearance."
He focused his eyesight onto him now before grinning for a half second. He flicked a bit of dust that had fallen onto his suit shoulder off before answering him.
"I am number 3 of the Z section" He held out his hand for a handshake
"As of yet I have not been informed if my clearance to the labs has been revoked." He looked the scientist up and down for a second, moving only his eyes and not his head.
"You are not dressed as one of the Q workers, isn't it mandatory to wear a lab coat in this facility?" he asked, he was having a hard time figuring out who this person was. Which lead him to the conclusion that he had never read his file.
Q110 stared at the bald man then chuckled and let his hand holding the wrench drop while his other hand snaked out and shook the outstretched hand, just once. He then retracted his hand, opting instead to use it to lift up the small medallion on the end of the necklace. "All Zed agents from 1 to 10 get automatic rights to the lab," he said, not pronouncing the letter as Zee but rather Zed. A small clue to his origins since Americans pronounced the seventy sixth letter of the alphabet as Zee. "So I guess I have to open the doors for you," he added with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side as he did so. "I'm Q. Since we're going to the Q labs and everyone there is Q, you can call me Q110. It avoids the headache telling you now as opposed to inside."
At the mention of the mandatory uniforms, Q110's smile twisted into a frown. He started to move down the hallway to the massive metal doors with a large Q on them. The entrance to the Q labs. He motioned for Agent 3 to follow him since the doors needed to be informed of any and all visitors, along with the Q that brought them into the labs. "It's mandatory in the Q labs but Agents are under the impression Qs have to wear lab coats everywhere. Most do so for convenience. But I think lab coats are absolute rubbish so I don't like to wear them. That's why I wasn't in the Q labs: I don't want to wear a stupid lab coat. Rest assured, I'm still a Q though." He smiled again then removed the chain from around his neck and let the machine scan medallion at the end of the necklace. On a screen nearby, he tapped in a few lines then looked at the image that came up before turning back to Agent 3. Yup, that was him. The machine paused as a camera mounted on the door confirmed his identity then a robotic voice neither male nor female declared so verbally.
"Q110 is now entering the labs with 3."
The doors slid open and Q110 gestured to the confirmed Z Agent. One of the single didgits. Well, he seemed like a nice guy. Why everyone made such a big fuss over them, he had no idea. "Lab coats are on the walls since all visitors need to wear them inside the labs," he said, gesturing to pegs with many lab coats dangling from them.
Agent 3 followed Q before hearing what he had to say about the lab coats. He replied with
"I see" before letting him speak on and catching his name.
"Aah yes I remember reading your file, are you not the same person who made the universal translator?" He asked while taking one of the lab coats off of it's peg before straightening it out and pulling it on over his suit. Even after straightening it out before he put it on he still flattened it down when he had it on. His work in the field mainly consisted of him knocking people out then taking their clothes and as movement was the best thing an agent could want in the field he would always make sure his clothing was the least baggy it could be. He then buttoned up the lab coat until 3 buttons were left, this still showed his crimson tie with the emblem used to identify him a lot of people thought that he flattened out his clothes because he was vain, but he was the least bit vain. He rarely showed any emotion to anyone other than people he had made a bond with. There were 3 people in his life that he had an actual bond with and he would never tell anyone who they were in case it risked their safety but that wasn't the matter now what was the matter was the broken 'unbreakable' fibre wire in his suitcase which he had picked up while following Q110.
Red sat on a stool, staring at a glass beaker filled with a blue liquid. at the bottom of the beaker sat a penny. As Red stared, a single, tiny bubble rose from the penny, popping at the top. At the sight of this, Red jumped forward, emiting a squeel of delight as she knelt down and gripped the counter edge, staring at the penny again. After a minute, Red stood up, rubbing her dry eyes.
"What went wrong? Did I add too much of a base? it should be reacting by now! what if it takes a while to react? Does the formula not work on copper? Is there a substance on the copper that's preventing the process?" She asked aloud, sitting back on the stool to stare at the penny again. She could hear an opening door in the background, followed by two pairs of footsteps.
'Q110 is back, and with an agent. I hope he's alowed in here... Is that another bubble forming?' she thought to herself, shooting forwards to get a closer look, accidently sending the metal stool crashing to the floor. She ignored it, glaring at the blue liquid instead.
Q110 nodded slightly as he took off a lab coat off the opposite wall. Qs had their own special lab coats since many shoved things in their pockets and used them later. They were also marked with a small Q as to distinguish visitors from the actual scientists working. "Yeah. I'm still working out a few bugs in the main system, though. Mostly concerning accents since the machine has a hard time registering them." He took off his own coat and hung it up on the peg, donning the labcoat in its place. He pulled out a pair of safety goggles and put them on as the door slammed shut behind them. Glancing over at Agent 3, he shrugged slightly then moved down the hallway, into the large room filled with computers and all sorts of other things. At the end of the room, there was another large door that lead to the vault. He paused then glanced back at the agent and frowned. "So what are you here for anyway?" he asked. "Are you looking for someone special? Because, if not, I could always help."
"Q110, the Quartermaster is angry with you again!" A blonde Q said as he by. "You know you're supposed to stay in the labs."
"Hey, at least I'm wearing my labcoat this time," he countered with a shrug as the other man walked away. He smiled then flinched slightly when a metal stool clattered to the ground. In the Q labs, loud noises were often accompanied by explosions. You got ready to jump under tables whenever something loud echoed through the labs. "You alright?" He asked, looking over at where a red-haire Q was staring at a beaker intently.
"Am I alright? Am I alright?" Red repeated, sighing as she picked the stool up. "yes. I'm fine. Its just that this solution isn't reacting the way I want it to. The penny should be melted by now." she said, chucking weakly. She looked over at the agent who had came in with Q110. She gave him a smile as she inspected him.
"A Z agent? What broke?" She joked, instantly regretting it. "Ah! sorry! That's rude of me. Can I help you at all?"
Agent 3 looked around the Q labs. A lot of the walls were black with explosions and were being cleaned just so they could be tainted black again. He was going to let the two Qs finish their conversation before he answered Q110. He pulled off his gloves at a medium pace and put them into his suit pocket, the agency was a safe place. He could leave fingerprints there, leaving them anywhere else but the agency was giving himself away. He moved his tie into it's correct position in the middle of his chest, it had been moved a bit to the right when he put the lab coat on. As such he fastened it again and waited before hearing the girl joke. He replied
"The so called 'unbreakable' fibre wire broke while I was choking a luchadore twice my size with it." Agent 3 was in no way small and was around the 6 foot mark so you can imagine how much strain the fibre wire was put on.
"I need another, stronger version" he put blankly.