"Captor, get your ass in my office." A harsh voice following the sound of a high-pitched squeal sounded through the walkie-talkie conveniently placed in his pocket. He sighed and ignored the order. Who actually listened to those things, anyways?
"Now." The squealing came back, except this time it was accompanied by a very angry and pissed off voice.
Shit.
The lanky male stood from his desk and ran an aching hand through his golden bangs. What had he done this time?
Stretching and yawning, the Captor made his way across the floor to a wooden door with a frosted window and a plaque reading "Meg Saunders."
"What is it, Meg?" He lazily pushed the door open and stood in the entryway. The fiery redhead glared up at him with a loathing gaze. He knew it was all an act, though. Meg was just passionate about her work and it came off aggressive.
Very aggressive.
"We have a new project we're working on. How does a four month vacation sound? All expenses paid. You just have to move your ass from point A to point B when I say."
A vacation? Either Meg was planning to fire him, which was unlikely seeing as he was very good in his line of work and she couldn't work a computer if her life depended on it, or she had been drowning in the bottle again.
"Meg, have you been drinking?" She looked appalled.
"What? No! See, this is the kind of shit that makes me not want to give vacations out! Get the hell out of my office, Captor. I'll get someone else to do it." Meg's face turned red as it did when she was angry.
Sollux snorted and held his hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Hey, I'm sorry, but a vacation? Where did that even come from?"
She picked up a manilla folder and tapped it a few times to even out the papers inside. "Well, it's not exactly just a vacation. You'll be heading to a private island off the coast of Brazil to do some research for me. It's top secret. Do you get the meaning of that? I know you live under a rock and no one will miss you, so you're perfect for the job." She looked proud of her oh-so-creative thinking.
"Whatever you say. When do I go?" He rolled his eyes.
Meg looked over at the clock on the wall behind her. "Oh, in about an hour and a half." she said nonchalantly.
"An hour and a half? Jesus Christ, give me no time to even think about it, why don't you?" Captor glared down at her.
"I did, smartass. Now, go home and pack your things quickly. The flight to Brazil will be around fourteen hours, and then you're traveling another five by boat. I'd stop chit-chatting with my boss and get on the road if I were you." Meg waved him off and he complied. She was right, of course. He lived a pretty solitary life. The only thing he would have to do is send Bicyclops to an acquaintance to be taken care of.
The hyper dalmatian was all over the place when he got home. God, that dog was annoying. "Bi, calm down." He patted his black and white head affectionately. After picking up the phone, he assured that Bicyclops would be in good hands with his childhood friend, John.
As he had been instructed, an hour and a half later, he was all packed up and sitting on the flight to wherever in Brazil. He had called Meg before he left to get more specific instructions that were filled with various curses and insults, and a quick "Fuck this up, and you'll be lost in a ditch somewhere." to remember her by.
He looked out of the plane window and sighed. Hey, maybe this trip won't be so awful after all.