All his life Vanderwood had wanted to be two things: strong and independent.

His unofficial hitlist was speaking for itself. The missions he accepted, were executed fast, and without witnesses. No traces were left behind. His bank account was filled with enough money to last him a lifetime. The only dependency left was his agency but in two or three years he would retire. His dreams had finally come true.

And yet he ended up in this garbage filled hellhole with this kid.

The agent shook his head and hid it in his hands to stop himself from screaming out his despair. His fists clenched uncontrollably, leaving red marks on his palms. Shit. He should have never moved to Korea. He shouldn't have accepted this job. He shouldn't have..

A cracking noise made him shriek again. It was that one sound again. A rustle. The packaging with aluminium foil, bending and rubbing itself, created one of his most tormenting fears. Without a doubt, it was these chips again. Freaking Honey Buddha Chips. The crunching sound of breaking chips in someones mouth filled the room. His body tightened.

He stood up and went over to the origin of the despised sound. The room was dimly lit by monitors only, green text on black background rushing over the screens. He was coding again. He better be hacking for the agency or help him god he would have to taze this little shit again.

Vanderwood made another step into the room and turned on the lights, only to find a complete mess in front of him. The redheaded turned around in his chair, grinning maliciously at him.
"Maryyyyy, I'm hungryyyyy"
The whining voice with that smile made him shiver. Not in fear, but in anger. His emotions were bottled up properly most of the time but with this devil around, he couldn't control himself. The mess, that voice, and most of all, the dirt and junk ticked him off.

How could anyone life in these surroundings?
He clicked his tongue in disgust, hissing at the boy to get his work done faster. His minor could have been done with it hours ago. If only he wasn't this weird and lazy, always watching cat videos and playing with robots during working hours.

Now this boy offered him that disgusting snack with almost no nutritional value. Vanderwood clicked his tongue another time, before he snatched the bag from Seven and threatened to tase him if his job wasn't accomplished within the next thirty minutes. Immediately he left the room, ignoring the cries and screams behind his back. There was no way he could stay around him any longer without smacking the redhead's face onto the desk. His muscles twitched already.

The floor outside was covered in crumbs and half eaten bags filled with these chips from hell. He shuddered again, disgust filling his stomach to a point where he was about to vomit. There was no way he could take this any longer. It was his third day in a row here now and his resources were empty, nerves overused to a point where he was close to a mental breakdown.

Vanderwood swore to god, throwing his hands in the air in the process and ruffling his hair. If this little shit ever got caught, the kidnappers would release within hours and be glad about his absence. At the same time, he wondered why the agency made him look after that boy. His skills were good, but his attitude wasn't right to work anywhere, let alone being a secret agent. Plus, he was only fifteen.

All the terrible jokes, his uncommon looks, the quirkiness and all the dirt and chaos he left behind everywhere he went - Other agents would catch him immediately in the field. After all, he had ditched official training sessions like a plague. Reports had emphasized how fast he could run. Sadly the only times agent 707 used that skill was to get away from his obligations and trainers.

His persistence in ditching practise went so far, he even manipulated the agency's database and faked his bosses calls to ensure his sessions were miraculously cancelled. Field jobs didn't list him as a potential agent. Actually, the agency didn't list him at all. It took awhile for the higher ups to figure it out, since he regularly took on jobs, but these were only backup missions no one had assigned to him. The redhead had just grabbed them himself and hacked again to make sure he got those. The jobs were executed all the time and no one complained about the way he took care of them, but once their boss heard the news, things changed.

Security tightened around the servers and agent 707 was assigned a personal, trusted and perfectly trained agent as a babysitter. Sadly, the chosen one was Vanderwood.

This day had ended his once action packed, money filled life of perfectly executed missions. Nowadays he only had to make sure that boy worked as he was told to. It made him wonder sometimes why the agency valued agent 707 so much, to sacrifice some other agents time and workload for him. Actually, one of their best agents.

Vanderwood sighed and fished a hairband from his pocket to quickly turn his long, hazelnut hair into a manbun. There was some serious cleaning business to do here and he didn't want his tresses to become dirty in the process. Nothing was as terrifying as a vacuum cleaner, sucking on his precious hair. The one time the boy followed him with it had been enough to teach him a lesson for a lifetime.

Agent 707 had made it a habit to call him Mary and refer to him as a woman the second their eyes met for the first time. First, Vanderwood had tried to be nice and calm but this brat went on with it's bullshit. As a result the brunette had used his taser gun, grinning satisfied at the younger boy crawling on the ground. He had been positive about this being enough to set at least one rule between them. The desire for a calming cigarette had set in, so he stepped out for a bit, only to find the boy teasing him even more as he returned.

Vanderwood had tried to handle his lunatic behaviour but every attempt lead to a even worse reaction. In the end he went with using the taser whenever necessary. Agent 707 would still tease him as 'Mary Vanderwood the 3rd', but he got used to tuning him out, turning up the volume of any kind of music, or leaving the room immediately if he ever forgot his taser.

His feet found the way to the cleaning supplies way to easily. Not a single thought had been necessary and he already had the gloves on, a bucket and everything else ready to be used in preparation. Within minutes he had picked up every bag from hell. Some other things followed, being so sticky they might as well be glued to the ground. Vanderwood subconsciously hissed through his nose. This had to end.

Only one more hour, he told himself. He would clean the rest within a few minutes, then he would make sure 707 was fulfilling his workload, smoke another cigarette and leave this place forever. The job would be done and hell yeah, a month long vacation on the Maldive Islands was waiting for him. The taste of pina coladas and the sea was almost on his lips. Sweet and salty enough, to get him through this day, giving him an extra boost of energy.

Within minutes the whole bunker was cleaned, looking as good as new again. The kitchen sparkled and he let out a relieved sigh. With the back of his hand he pushed a strand of hair from his face, before he put the cleaning supplies away. These would probably never be used again. The thought made him shrug again. He shouldn't worry about this. The job was about to be done. A final glance at his phone and he grinned. Perfect timing, as always.

He made his way over to the computers, where his 'baby' should be working, only to find him asleep in the weirdest pose possible on his chair. His eyebrows twitched at this sight. This idiot had the guts to sleep while he should be working on a project that was long overdue. A glance on the screens told him the job was done at least, but not delivered yet. He made sure to send the product out to their boss and dialed his number to announce the completion of the job. Perfect timing, again. Finally he would be able to leave this special circle of hell and his redheaded inhabitant behind.

As Vanderwood stepped out of the bunker, his boss finally answered the call. The voice was distorted as always, a safety measure. He listened to the new instructions regarding the mission. As the crackling voice went silent, he gulped and asked for a repetition, just to be sure. There was no doubt now.

"Agent Vanderwood, congratulations to this completed mission. You're promoted to ensure agent 707's jobs are done in time now. Every single one of them."
His hand twitched, ready to throw the phone as far as he could.
"Sadly we have to cancel your holiday. The payment has just been transferred to your bank account."
The call ended with a silent click, as always. In this second a inhuman scream filled the air, following the phone that flew towards the sun.

All his life he had wanted to be two things: strong and independent.
Somewhere along the way he had become a maid and a babysitter.