✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ Warfare [Transformers]✔

13

Affable but not easy to get around, Epps had said to Will during the week, that's what attracts you to her and why you don't find her boring.

The only thing Will knew was that Brady worked at the CIA, but not as what or in what area. Administration, legal, or the press office, possibly. But why she was in New York then didn't fit, because only certain people from certain and special departments were invited. Either it was a coincidence or she knew the right people.

At the registration desk, Will told a man that he wanted to see Miss O'Neil and at the same time asked where he could find her. Whether he had an appointment, however, was the young man's response, which he didn't see coming. To avoid the discussion that he needed an appointment, he took his military ID out of his pocket and showed it to the short-haired man. His luck should try, he said, because it could be that Miss O'Neil was at a pledge, talking to partners, or taking care of things that were out of his jurisdiction and classified. So much for administration or press.

"What's your job, anyway?" asked Will after knocking on the glass door and Brady looked up from several pieces of paper scattered all over her desk, "Hey."

"Making myself irreplaceable," Brady replied with a smile, ticking something off here and there and looking back at Will who was a little on the fence, "It's simple. You have to make the person you're working for think they can't do anything without you, because you're doing it all for them, and you're doing it before, they know it needs to be done, or have it done long ago when it's assigned to you. It is at that moment that you hand over the results. Because most people don't know what they want until you offer it to them. That's my job. To be irreplaceable."

"A good wife according to that," probably not, because Brady merely raised her eyebrows at Will's comparison, turned back to her papers and wasn't particularly taken with his words, though it wasn't meant in any negative way, "Believe me, there are enough who wouldn't get along without their wives. Good soldiers who can be relied on, but as soon as it goes back, they're, the little kids and at the same time but also father."

"Maybe so. I'll be gone in two weeks anyway," Brady shrugged, beating Will to the punch before he could ask, "I've been accepted into the CIA's training program."

"You," it escaped Will directly because it came as a surprise and he pointed his index finger at Brady, "You?"

"I wasn't offended then, I am now," it was always nice to witness what people thought about you, and truly thought, as Brady had just done when something arrived that obviously didn't fit the picture, "Would you please leave?"

"Nonono. Wait, wait," Will tried to salvage the situation, but Brady merely gave a 'what for', "We've known each other forever and you never seemed like someone who would want to work as an agent. I assumed you were going to be a reporter, a press secretary or something like that."

"You're like most men Will, whether you want to hear it or not," after an audible exhale, Brady set her pen aside and began to gather her application before looking back up at Will, "High heels and dresses that, just barely long enough for those women to assume their job is wife or plain, assistant or secretary. Or? Some of them wear it because they like it, others to please or it is expected of them. From the outside, many books look nice, like those of fairy tales, but, have you ever read Cinderella or Hansel and Gretel? They're really nasty. You don't know a book until you read it, not just by the cover or the blurb."

Someone had been through a lot in the last few years and had probably been allowed to listen to it, Will surmised, because, this conversation was going in two completely different directions.

It was amazing in many ways, some statements or an ordinary, everyday conversation, can be understood.