A/N: PLEASE READ, KIND OF IMPORTANT!
This is one of my favorite styles of fanfiction writing: taking characters, heightening certain characteristics in them, and putting them in a new, AU scenario. I've been doing this kind of stuff for the better half of a year, give or take, and I still love it. That's what's happened here. That said, the characters might be a little different than you're used to; Otto may be more self-absorbed, Laura might be more temperamental, Nero may be more scatterbrained - it's all part of the story, I assure you. It's not because I'm a bad writer, or because I got the characters OOC, it's actually supposed to be like that. Just as a warning.
Also, in this particular story, Laura Brand, Otto Malpense, et cetera, are twenty-three, and not villains. H.I.V.E. does exist... but it doesn't mean the same thing anymore. It's AU. No evil H.I.V.E. You'll see what I mean when you read it.
I hope you enjoy it despite the unconventionality of it, or maybe even because of it. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
Laura Brand watched as the spunky blonde in front of her picked yet another cherry out of the bowl, gripped it firmly in her teeth and pulled the stem out with her fingers, merely dropping it to the ground as if there wasn't a garbage can two feet away. She chewed contentedly, smiling innocently at the Scot.
Glowering, Laura bent down and picked up the stem, throwing it in the waste receptacle, aware of the blonde's eyes following her movements. "You know, there's a trash can right there." Laura irritably pointed at the can. "You could throw them away."
"I could," the blonde agreed. Her American accent was obvious. She threw another stem on the ground. "But why, if you're standing right there to pick them up for me?"
"Because I'm your partner, not to mention your friend," Laura replied, bending down again, knowing from experience that telling the American to pick it up herself would be fruitless. She wanted to whack the smug blonde when a cherry stem landed on her head.
"I work alone."
Shelby Trinity was many things – including things such as stuck up, nosy, pertly conceited, beautiful, smart and stealthy – and one of those things was being rather unfriendly when she felt like it. She cared deeply for her friends; the hard part was actually being considered a friend on her side of the relationship.
And although Shelby had said it many times, Laura doubted she actually was a friend of the superspy.
"Oh, yeah? Then who was up with you for twenty-three hours straight just last month? Yourself?" Laura frowned. "You couldn't have completed that mission without me!"
Shelby, who also happened to be the CIA's top stealth-and-retrieval operative, just shrugged and dropped another cherry stem on the floor.
Laura growled inwardly, and considered picking it up and jamming it down the blonde's throat, but decided against it; the CIA couldn't afford to start fighting amongst itself, even if a piece of it was acting totally selfish. Instead, she reached into her leather shoulder bag and pulled out some reports, pushing them into Shelby's hand. "Here," she said, "give Mr. Fanchu a call and tell him to report the information on these documents to the president."
Wing Fanchu was the head of the Secret Service, not to mention a not-too-secret crush of Shelby's. There were some under-the-radar rumors that Mr. Fanchu liked Shelby, too, but in this line of work lies are simple to tell and hard to distinguish. And Laura knew that if she wanted Shelby to do anything for her, calling Mr. Fanchu was about the only thing she would do without complaint.
Shelby looked at the papers with an expression of mild contempt, but why pass up an excuse to call Mr. Tall, Dark and Japanese? "All right, I'll give Wing a call."
Laura was halfway to the door to exit the lounge when she stopped and glanced back. "You know, flame or not, Mr. Fanchu is still technically our superior; maybe you shouldn't call him by his first name?"
"I'll tell you what," the spy replied, "I'll call him Mr. Fanchu when you quit worrying about everything."
It was quite obvious that the conversation was over, so Laura walked out, shaking her head.
As she walked down the hallway toward her office in the technical wing, she scanned some important documents. Many bad things were happening around the planet – robberies, attempts on the president's life, the head of CIA Security suspiciously and inconveniently getting a broken leg – and Dr. Maximilian Nero, head of the CIA's Intelligence Division, was convinced they were all linked. But, of course, the coffee maker breaks and he imagines some horrible conspiracy or security breach.
… Come to think of it, the coffee maker broke, too.
Finally, she reached the door to her office. She was just about to place her hand on the scanner when-
"Miss Trinity and Miss Brand, please report to my office."
-Nero called.
Laura groaned. Had she and Shelby done something wrong? Or, more accurately, had Shelby done something wrong and blamed Laura for it? It wouldn't be the first time.
She turned and sprinted down the hall, back the way she had come. When she finally reached the entrance to Nero's office, Shelby was just about to put her hand to the scanner.
"So, what'd you do this time, Brand?" she joked.
Laura didn't bother replying.
The door opened to a room of deep red walls lined with certificates and framed newspaper articles, with a mahogany desk in the middle and a tall black leather chair behind it. Two smaller chairs sat in front of the intimidating desk.
Nero smiled when they walked in. "Ah, Miss Brand, Miss Trinity. How nice to see you. Please, sit down."
Shelby plopped down in a chair, and that was the first time Laura noticed that the other chair was occupied.
A man with spiky white hair and blazing blue eyes was seated in it. You could tell from the slight wrinkles on his face that the overconfident, slightly teasing smirk he wore was a permanent fixture.
Great, Laura thought. Now she was going to look ridiculous standing in the middle of the room like some sort of retarded-
"Here," the man said, over exaggerated sweetness slathered thickly on his words. "You can have my chair." He grinned. Somehow, it didn't look friendly.
"Uh, thanks," Laura said, trying to sit down and not get near him at the same time. She watched as he went and stood between her and Shelby.
"Ladies, this is Mr. Otto Malpense. Perhaps you've heard of him," Nero began.
"The man who knocked that stuck up Prime Minister off his high horse!" Shelby said, laughing. "A pleasure to meet a man with such style, Otto!"
"It was nothing, really," he said, although his tone wasn't very modest. It wasn't the English accent, either.
Laura didn't say anything, unwilling to admit that she hadn't heard of an Otto Malpense or the dethroning of the Prime Minister of England. She hoped she wouldn't be dragged into the conversation.
"Mr. Malpense has just finished training at the Hall of Invention Viewings and Exploration, and has agreed to come help with your current project after having my invitation relayed by my good friend Professor Theodore Pike," Nero said, cutting back in.
"You... studied at H.I.V.E. as well?" Laura asked, shocked. She had trained at H.I.V.E., and had, at the time, been Professor Pike's best student, which is how she had landed a spot in the CIA as their head of technological advancements. Recently, however, her programs hadn't been working right. Every single one failed for one reason or another. She had begun fearing that Nero would find a replacement for her... Had he found one?
"Yes," Otto said. "Professor Pike even said I was his best student since..." He tapped his chin with his finger, and Laura couldn't tell if the thought was real or fake. "... well, you. I assume you're Laura Brand?"
She nodded mutely. He mimicked the movement, as if it was obvious.
"I had a feeling you two would get along well, since you both have quite the affinity for technology," Nero said.
"I think the last thing we need is another computer geek in the mix," Shelby complained. "They're never any fun."
"Which reminds me," Nero said, turning to Otto. "Mr. Malpense, you said you brought something that may help us with this endeavor?"
"Yes, I did." The Brit reached into his pocket and pulled out a black PDA-like device. He flipped open the top. "H.I.V.E..mind, please come introduce yourself."
Suddenly, a blue holographic head appeared hovering over the PDA's screen. "Hello, Dr. Nero, Miss Trinity, Miss Brand; I am H.I.V.E..mind – how may I be of assistance?"
Laura's mouth fell open, and she stared agape at the head. "W... What is that?" she asked in awe.
"I am a supercomputer artificial intelligence, built by Professor Theodore Pike and Mr. Otto Malpense," H.I.V.E..mind said.
"We named him H.I.V.E..mind because H.I.V.E. is where he was created," Otto explained. "He's highly intelligent, and advanced by years. If anyone can help, it's him."
"Fantastic. If he's really as good as you say he is-"
"Which he is," Otto assured.
"-then this is possibly the best idea I've had in quite awhile," Nero finished. "I take it you have direct access to him from here?"
"Correction, I actually have him with me." The Brit tapped the back of his head. "The entirety of his programming is stored within a microchip that has been implanted in the back of my head since birth... Or so I've been told." His confident smile slipped slightly – yea, his whole demeanor – but it was back strikingly fast. "Obviously, though, I've no idea for certain."
"A... microchip? In your brain?" Nero blinked. "Large enough to hold an AI?"
"It's a long story. And one I don't really know." Otto shifted his weight, but glanced up to look Nero in the eye. "His processing power is limited by the capability of myself and the chip, but he should still be a great help. If not, I have a few ideas we can try."
Nero nodded calmly. "All right. Now for assignments. Miss Brand" - he turned to Laura - "you'll be working with Mr. Malpense until further notice. I need my best people on the job. Also, I think you should start by pulling security footage from the White House's cameras."
"But... we already asked, Dr. Nero," Laura pointed out, trying to keep from digging her fingernails into her palms and failing miserably. "They wouldn't give them to us, even with Mr. Fanchu as support."
"I think they suspected subterfuge on either our part or his," Nero sighed. "They can be so cynical sometimes. However, that said, you may have to use other means to get that tape."
"Such as?" Shelby asked, always eager to do something against protocol.
Nero raised an eyebrow. "I think you know, Miss Trinity. Miss Brand and Mr. Malpense will try to hack into the files remotely, and if that doesn't work we'll send you in."
"YESSSS!" Shelby cried, jumping out of her chair.
"Any questions?" Nero asked.
After a couple seconds of waiting to see if anyone else did, Otto said, "When do we start?"
Nero smiled. "Tomorrow, bright and early!"
Laura whipped around to face Malpense, and stared him down with a fiery intensity. He met her fire with a cool gaze and a couple of raised eyebrows. The door to the office had already slid shut, and Shelby was oblivious to Laura's rage, so soon she, too, had slipped from sight and sound.
"Who do you think you are?" Laura demanded. "You and your high-tech, blue-headed toy can't just waltz in here and try to take my job."
"First off, I don't waltz; I strut." He smirked. "Second, my 'blue-headed toy' doesn't really move at all; he more like zaps, or transfers, or teleports-"
"I don't care what he d-"
"And thirdly, I'm not trying to take your job; Nero called me. I can't really help that I'm better than you. Especially now. It's a li-ttle for that, don't you think?"
"I don't care! I don't care that you're wearing the CIA's uniform, that you invented the world's first self-aware AI, that you have a microchip implanted in your brain, or that you're stuck up beyond measure! If you start trying to get rid of me, I'll-"
"At this rate, I won't have to plot to get rid of you if I decide you're a threat – Nero will ship you out way before then," Malpense replied, brushing past her. "Perhaps you should try being a little nicer to your new coworker if you don't want that to happen!" he called over his shoulder.