If Tuck thought FDR had always been cocky, he would be right. About a year after FDR joined the CIA, Tuck became an agent. As expected, Tuck would be introduced to the agency's rumors and thoughts on certain agents, specifically FDR. FDR wa s known for his arrogance. That's no surprise since FDR was one of the top agent s at the CIA, and one of the most ruthless. Let's not play down the fact that he was a womanizer either. And according t o idle gossip, many of the woman at the agency whom were "annoyed" with FDR were actually suffering from a broken heart because he sure as hell wasn't the type to settle down.

Tuck couldn't really blame FDR's actions, somewhat. FDR had a nice, full set of hair, muscular body, dressed well, and had an amazing set of light-blue eyes. Of course every woman there wanted him. Actually, most of the men at the agency we re envious of FDR's charm. Tuck, on the other hand, had nothing to worry about. Women were also very fond of him, but Tuck was one-woman type of man. His body w as muscular, but much leaner than FDR's figure. Also, Tuck had dark-green eyes-which was probably his favorite asset.

Unlike FDR, Tuck never saw himself at the CIA. He just wanted to be a police officer like his father and his father before him. However, being a cop lacked a certain thrill. Even the armed forces offered some type of energetic release, but he couldn't see himself being months (or even years) apart from his family, especially his son. With some advice and direction from family and peers whom admire d Tuck's performances, the CIA seemed like a decent fit. As for FDR, the decision wasn't that hard. He didn't have children or any responsibilities at home. But one thing he did share with Tuck was their love for action and adrenaline rushes.

A full day didn't pass before Tuck bump into FDR, which wasn't surprising because he spent most of the day on tours of t he facility. Of all places to meet FDR, it was the restroom. Tuck had just finished having lunch, so eventually nature would call. He strolled into the restroom with only the intention of using a urinal before rushing to a meeting specifically for his sector. The restroom had a basic layout: four urinals, three stalls, and sinks. As Tuck was in a rush, he didn't have time to rush to admire the restroom aesthetics. Spotting the urinals, he noticed another guy taking care of business. Tuck took the urinal beside him. His decision didn't seem like an invasion of personal space due to the presence of dividers on each side of the urinal. Following Men's restroom etiquette, Tuck faced forward as he took care of business. In his peripheral vision, though, h e noticed the gentleman next to him slowly turning his head as if about to greet him. To not assume anything and make the situation awkward, Tuck continued to look forward. However, the man continued to stare. Luckily the silence was broken when the stranger greeted Tuck.

"You must be new around here," stated the stranger.

Though he hesitated at first, Tuck let out a simple, "Yeah."

By this point, both men were finished at the urinals and began to zip up their p ants. Both men walked to the sinks. Interestingly their placement was side-by-side as they were before. Tuck looked down at his hands as he lathered them. The stranger, on the other hand, stared at Tuck's reflection. Tuck could feel eyes piercing right through him. He became a little antsy. But he suddenly analyzed why he would be—he was a secret agent. He f aced far worse things than a bathroom creeper. Hence, he looked up from the sink and into the reflection watching him.

"Can I help you with something," Tuck asked sternly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare," The man responded. "I was just trying to figure out your accent."

"Oh, well I'm English. I moved to the U. S. when I graduated high school. So the accent stuck"

"Interesting. I'm FDR, by the way. I've been at the CIA for about a year. So what-"

"I've heard about you," Tuck interrupted . "I'm sorry. I bet that came off a bit rude."

"Oh, that's okay. What exactly have you heard? And don't hold back."

Both men were done washing up and headed to the hand dryers.

"Oh, um, well...nice things," Tuck said hesitantly, looking at the hand dryer in tensely.

"Right," FDR said sarcastically with a smirk.

"Well, I've got a meeting," Tuck said. " It was nice meeting you."

Tuck headed for the door with FDR following behind him.

"I never got your name," FDR said.

"I'm Tuck."

"Do you have a last name?"

"I do, but I prefer to just go by my first name."

"Ideally," said FDR with a giggle.

Tuck found it a bit strange that this guy could not take a hint and leave him al one. It wasn't that he didn't like FDR's company, but he had somewhere to be. After a few twists and turns around the hallway, hoping that he would lose FDR in the process, Tuck finally reached the briefing room. He took a moment to verify the room number. FDR reached out for the door handle.

"Are you here for the briefing," asked FDR.

He opened the door and Tuck mindlessly followed him in.

"Yeah," said Tuck quickly before dashing to an occupied seat among the oval table.

Finally, I have escaped him, thought Tuck.

But Tuck celebrated a bit too early. Conveniently for his "stalker," there was a n unoccupied seat right across from Tuck . FDR took a seat quickly as the meeting began.

The lights went off and the projector's fan whirled wildly before an image was illuminated onto the white screen. Despite the room being filled with other agent s and officials, Tuck could not brush the feeling that he was being watched...again! Aside from his instincts, he knew whom to suspect. But he did not want to make his suspicions obvious. Although Tuck continued to look forward, he slowly peered into his peripheral vision at FDR. FDR appeared to be paying attention to the briefer, but his eye movements did not match up with the information being s hared. Tuck must have blown his cover be cause in that instant FDR rolled his head over his left shoulder into Tuck's direction. Tuck's eyes swiftly returned for ward.

Dammit, he saw me, thought Tuck. I bet he thinks I'm the creeper now. Just keep looking forward. Keep looking forward.

And that's exactly what Tuck did, even though he could sense the occasional star e in his direction. What was odd about t he situation was that Tuck knew he would be watched because he was the new guy a t the agency. But FDR's stares were the only ones truly bothering him.

What is wrong with me, asked Tuck. Just let it go.

The meeting was finally over. Tuck was welcomed by many of the agents as he walk ed out of the room. He could tell he was going to like it here. The only thing t hat mattered at this point was where his desk would be located. He hoped being t he new guy that he wouldn't be placed somewhere near the janitorial closet—or wo rse, next to FDR. Something about that guy still gave him the creeps.

As Tuck strolled around the corner, he w as met by Collins. Collins, the title sh e went by, was the head of the CIA.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Collins," said Tuck.

"Hello, agent," replied Collins. "I hope you're liking your first day here."

"I actually am."

"That's good," she said as she bent her middle finger away from him as to signal him to follow her. "Your desk is ready. Based on your statistics and performance during the obstacle courses and tim police officer, you'll be grouped with other agents who share the same stamina."

Tuck responded with a simple mm-hmm.

Eventually they arrived at an array of occupied desks. Only one was empty.

"I trust you'll like this spot," said Collins. "I have other matters to attend t o so I'll leave you to it."

"Yes, ma'am," said Tuck. "Thank you."

Collins left the room as quickly as they came in.

Tuck walked around his desk to his new b lack-leather seat. Of course he had to t est-drive it. It would be blasphemous. H e sat down, and within minutes was reclining.

I've done well, he thought. I'm finally where I was always meant to be.

As he reminisced about his past accomplishments, Tuck did not notice that his desk was across from an unoccupied desk. W ell, the desk had papers, folders, and a computer. It was definitely occupied, but the owner was not present.

"I wonder where my neighbor could be," Tuck whispered to himself.

Then, from behind him, he could hear footsteps approaching on the tile floor. It was a natural reaction for him to focus on movements coming towards him. The footsteps were becoming louder despite the chatter of his surrounding agents and t he clanging of their office supplies. Th en, from the side of him, a dark figure strolled past.

It's my neighbor.

But before he could stand up and greet h is neighbor, Tuck froze in his tracks. He knew the figure. It was FDR.

Oh, great. Just when I thought I was clear of him!

"We just keep bumping into each other, don't we?" asked FDR.

"I see that we do," Tuck said nonchalantly as he gazed at his computer. "I wouldn't be surprised if my first mission involves us being assigned together." Tuck giggled awkwardly.

Today just wasn't Tuck's day because at that moment Collins called out to the agents from her office.

"Michael, Rick, Tuck, Lucy, and FDR. My office now."