Note: This is just a short little one shot I thought of, don't really like the title that much but it's all I got. I'm going to keep the author's note short just because I don't want it to be longer than the fic itself. Just one thing, I like the irony of how something has come up down under. You'll understand at the end. Read and review plz.
He studied them.
Of course he'd been warned about the dangers of prolonged exposure, but these days it was harder to find something that couldn't kill you.
In fact the bronze sector was probably the safest part of the warehouse. However, that wasn't why he spent so much time here. If he wanted safe, he wouldn't be an agent.
No, here were the true secrets of the world. Every bauble out there, though capable of unimaginable feats, paled in comparison to just one of these imprisoned individuals. Geniuses, philosophers, conquerors, and even a few all of the above; hidden here for eternity. Not courts, no trials, not even justice, only sentencing.
He enjoyed walking among them. They felt more like compatriots than defeated enemies, though he shouldn't be surprised. Many of them had been, excuse me are, agents themselves. Each preserved as a statue with a perfection that even the greatest of sculptors could only dream of. They would have been beautiful if not for the grimaces and glares many of them bore.
That was partly what he found attractive in her. While many had gone violently, cursing their captors, she had been captured for eternity with the visage of a queen. A regal stare he could have sworn followed his movements. The thought was, of course, preposterous.
Nonetheless, he more often than not found himself standing before her. He didn't worship her, exactly, she simply demanded his attention. He memorized every facet of her features, every imperfection on the seemingly perfect face, but it wasn't enough. Not even close.
It wasn't love so much as an obsession. But then again, is there really a difference?
He read every scrap of paper she had written on. Not the drivel fed to the public, but her original research notes. Every design analyzed, every adventure devoured.
The exhaustion of every avenue left him, once again, simply standing before her.
"James, something's come up in Australia. We need to go." Artie's voice echoed throughout the warehouse.
"In a moment." McPhearson called back.
He reached towards her, as if to push back an errant strand of hair, but thought better of it.
"One day..." He whispered, more to himself than her. One day things were going to change.
He left without another word.