*I don't own Totally Spies or its characters
This is my first TS story, but I was inspired by the fic May to December and its main ship. Now I'm on season 3, and hopefully this fic will be okay. This fic is based on the events of Green with N.V.
After a series of evaluations and testing, Woohp scientists found him competent enough to resume duty.
Another case solved, perhaps not the last of its kind. Another job well done, thankfully. Another bad guy, we'll in this case bad women put away, and the paperwork phenomenal.
Multiple screens stared back at him, data profiles, charts, expense reports, the dull hum of hard drives the soundtrack of this afternoon. Once more he was alone, sitting in his office, imagining all the goings-on in the world, what existed outside his environment.
He decided a small break wouldn't hurt, and turned on a separate monitor connected to the live feed of the street view. Passers-by, the smiles, the laughter, the gossip of young men and women, and listened to their plans for the evening.
On holiday, there was no knowing how festive the community would be, that very day being no exception. A rarity of its kind, a leap day, anything could happen.
It was an interesting diversion, the window shoppers complaining over price tags, dog walkers with multiple yapping creatures. A lone Starbucks, it's sign glinting in the sunlight, business men winking at pretty girls, the best of new age and commercialism.
Spying on others, when it isn't occupation, but like a hobby, gave insight into the anthropology of modern man and women despite its intrusiveness.
Man wasn't accurate like the coldness of machine, the absurdity, the colorful patterns of gestures, the quirks of hairstyles to the gait of their feet, fascination loomed all around him. Contented by the show, he watched for a while. it changed direction when he saw an elderly couple, perhaps in their seventies, entering a restaurant hand in hand, wrinkles of a smile lit up their faces.
He cursed at the monitor and shut it off.
It wasn't easy being the head of an international spy organization, to chase bad people, save the day for a few minutes then be off running somewhere else to save the world again. It wasn't easy being a man his age, the world expecting the worst and best, to not have someone special to share it all with.
Sometimes afternoons dragged on when there wasn't any real work to do. Their last case had cost him his pride. He wasn't bulletproof, he couldn't reflect emotions like arrows off a suit of armor. He wasn't immortal, he felt things, though if he had dragon scales that would have been cool.
It wasn't real, those synthetic feelings caused by cologne which drowned him in complete happiness for a few hours, those light fluttering emotions that only school boys had merit to feel. No, he was beyond all that, and yet he wished he had a second chance.
He shuffled the papers on his desk, thinking that perhaps he could just Woohp the girls over to clean his office, he'd certainly get a kick out of that, but they had better things to do, he was sure of it.
Downstairs, the fully stocked kitchen held much promise, and it's computerized system could prepare almost anything he could wish for. He wasn't in much of a mood to eat, but he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. A sandwich for one, how many times had this been routine?
The sudden idea of a surprise trip to England for fish and chips with the girls sounded promising. It might give him an opportunity to share odd bits of his past, introduce them as his employees to mother, exploring the countryside, give Sam the Jane Austen tour, show Clover the experimental fashions, but fish and chips weren't worth stealing the girls away and he silently finished his sandwich.
The only thing he could think to do was to freshen up, washing away the shadows of the day, with all its embarrassments and shame. With every drop, the salt of sea ran away, leaving a clean Jerry, but also his pain.
He hated to admit it, but he was lonely, bitterly, and desperately lonely. Psychological evaluations showed he had the tendency to overwork, keep busy, but otherwise normal. He tried hiring assistants, those never worked out. His family was, we'll evil in their own right, and friends had their own agenda. He was cursed and probably always would be.
Only on his way back to his office, did he find hints of hijinks to come. The girls were waiting in his office, poking around his desk. A smirk lighted his face, and he hurried down the hallway.
Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a lonely day after all.