Hey! Well, remember me?!?
No? --
Well, I have here my second TS fic. I don't know if it will be as popular as my other story. I hope it gets reviews! At least one… or more.
I have decided that my original thought on this story shall be used. During my brainstorming activities, I had concluded with several versions. But decided to stand by my first idea.
Read
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"Hey, JP!" A man dressed in a white lab coat walked into a dark room. He stepped closer to the only light in there, a small clear plastic lamp on a metallic desk. He picked up his pace and scurried closer to the table.
"Yes, Tom?" The man at the desk said irritably. He was currently studying a picture he was holding in his hands. It was a picture of a woman dressed in a dark dress robe coming out of a limo. She was heading into a large crowd in front of a large building.
"Oh, you are still working on that case?" The scientist asked, leaning over the desk, adjusting his thick glasses. "Maybe you should give it up."
The man at the desk took a sip of coffee from a green mug on his desk. He sent a glare at the scientist. "I can't give this up!" He told him, setting the mug down. "She's one of the most dangerous criminals in this time. And I can't believe I failed to capture her." He sighed and put the picture into a manila folder with other sheets of paper and shoved it in a file cabinet.
The scientist ran a hand through his hair. "She hasn't been active for years."
"Tom, you have no idea of what you just said." He muttered. "Now, what did you want to tell me?" He asked, leaning back into his chair. "C'mon, it's getting late." He took a look at a clock on the wall that read: twelve thirty-two.
"Oh, it's nothing really, I was just wondering when that new agent is arriving." The scientist said, sticking his hands in his coat pockets.
"He should be arriving tomorrow. Why do you ask?" He inquired. Placing his hands behind his head, and resting his feet on top of the desk.
"Oh, I just wanted to give him…" The scientist explained as he rummaged through his coat, inside and outside, finally pulling out a small pin the shape of the WHOOP sign. "This. That's all. It seemed like a nice welcoming present."
JP reached out for the pin and held it between his fingers. It was the letters from their corporation inside an oval. It was a metallic turquoise. "Very nice."
"I was wondering if you could give it to him for me." The scientist asked shyly. "I'm off on vacation. I think I've worked myself too hard here at WHOOP."
"You go enjoy your vacation." JP smiled and placed the pin in his desk.
"Oh, and could you also give him this message?"
"Sure, what is it?"
In the foggy mists of morning, a white plane with blue stripes descended in height. Fog swathed the Earth with wet clouds, blinding vision to a few feet. There was a screech and the wheels of the aircraft connected with the long dark runway.
A young man looked out a single window on the plane. He couldn't see anything besides the fog and asphalt. Giving off a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, leaving a small cloud of steam on the window.
His deep auburn hair was unkempt and stuck up in several places, giving him a mischievous look. He wore a long sleeved gray shirt and a pair of blue jeans along with some sneakers.
The ride on the ground was bumpy and rough, and when it finally smoothed down and stopped, a read light flashed above his head.
"Please remain seated until instructed otherwise." A woman's voice rang around of the interior. There were three beeps and a click. "You may now depart the airplane, have a nice day."
"I wonder if that's him." A woman wearing a bright yellow dress said, pointing to a young man with blonde hair, walking from the bridge connected to the plane outside the building they were in. "Or is it him?" She said changing her gaze to a short brunette.
"Please, Caroline, be patient." A man wearing a white colored shirt and black pants with a blue tie stood behind the excited woman and put a hand at her shoulder to keep her still.
"But this is so exciting!" She exclaimed. "We've never had a foreign exchange student before."
"Mom!" A teenage boy called as he nodded his head to the right. "I think he's here."
"Oh! Honey, hold up the sign!" The woman ordered as her husband bent down to grab a cardboard sign that was resting on a chair. The sign read: The Rogers.
A young teenage brunette walked towards three people. The first was a man, with dark chocolate hair greased backwards with gray streaks at each side, a pair of black square glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and he held up a sign. A woman was standing next to him holding a rectangular box with blue wrappings and a red ribbon. And then there was a boy around his age standing near the couple wearing a red sweatshirt and blue jeans with black and white sneakers. His hair was a shaggy brown, lighter than his own, but much messier.
He stopped in front of the family, waiting for their welcomes. "Um, you must be the Rogers. I'm …"
"Jerry, right?" The woman ran over to hold his hand. "Welcome to the US of A!"
"Yes, we hope you enjoy your stay here." Her husband chimed in, he toggled with his lenses and shot Jerry a smile.
"Thank you." Jerry said happily as the woman handed him the box. He was about to pull the ribbon off when he hesitantly looked up to the parents. They nodded excitedly and Jerry jumped right into opening the box, gently. "Oh, how lovely." Jerry held out a red sweater with darker striped running across the middle. "Thank you."
"C'mon, let's go home." Mrs. Roger led Jerry towards the exit, throwing the empty box away in the process.
"So Jerry, tell me a little bit about yourself." Mr. Rogers patted Jerry on the back.
Jerry sat on his new bed with green wool coverings and down pillows. A rundown brown suitcase was laid down besides him. There was a brown old-fashioned table against the wall adjacent to him with a small lamp resting on top. The wood was smooth and shiny, like the bookcase on the opposite wall. It had Encyclopedias and Dictionaries, all new and probably never read or opened before.
He stalked towards the bookcase, eager to look at the American series of books. With his index finger, he lights ran it against the spines of the encyclopedia. It was real leather and an aroma of wood filled his senses. Then he sneezed.
Jerry decided to go back when the wood dust settled down.
The exhausted boy ran a hand through his hair and crept towards the single window in his room. It was right across the room from his bed and adorned with a solid green curtain pulled to one side. A lace veil hung behind and he gently moved it with his left hand, holding it to the side of the glass. Outside was a huge lawn with trees and flowers and everything! There were red rose bushes in the center of the lawn in the shape of a heart.
"Whoa…" Jerry gasped. "They really are rich." He then looked at the books in the shelf. He knew right when he saw them. Those were not cheap books.
He huffed out a long sigh and left the window side, the veil fluttering down to its former position. He pulled out a wooden chair from under the desk and sat down, putting his head on the tabletop between his folded arms. The ride over was long and grueling. Mr. Rogers would not stop asking him questions. Mrs. Rogers kept questioning him on if he knew what a car radio was, like she didn't think he knew anything, as if Europe was an isolated island. When really, it was she who was trapped in a bubble.
Then there was their son: Maxwell Rogers. There was a strange aura around him. Jerry almost couldn't stand that presence, like he was repelling him. But he seemed nice enough. He always gave smiles and didn't ask annoying questions.
"WOOHP better pay me for coming out here." Jerry mumbled with a bored expression on his face.
Jerry slumped his way to his bed and threw his suitcase to the ground and plopped himself on the sheets. The softness of the fabric was heaven against his skin. He closed his eyes and yawned. But panic took him over when all of a sudden, his body felt weightless.
His eyes snapped open, but it was too late. He was already falling. He was going through some sort of tunnel, and he could see that his bed was now vertical with the wall.
Is this some sort of trap door? He thought.
"Aaaaaaah!!" Jerry fell face first into an ocean of foam. It was yellow and dingy and smelled of cardboard. He had a hard time just getting to the surface. He flailed his arms about, hoping to grab on to something when a hand held on to his. He held on tightly and he was soon sitting on the top of all the yellow.
Jerry looked around him. He was sitting him a glass container three fourth of the way filled with the foam pieces. The container was probably the size of a small swimming pool.
"Ughh." Jerry shut his eyes and shook his head. He then lay back in the foam.
"Did you have a nice trip?" A man called out to him. Jerry slowly opened his eyes to see a man in a dark suit leaning over the edge of the glass, smiling at him. He ran a hand through his auburn hair and reached out for Jerry.
"Huh…?"
"Welcome to WOOHP, Beverly Hills."
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Okay, first chapter good/bad/sucky/shitty/marvelous/great/yay another story!! ---- pic one to go with your review!
And you better review! Or I'll tear the living flesh off of your bones and feed it to the ants!!!!. Have a nice day
Review! --"