Walter Beckett has been in the spy agency in Washington working with his partner Lance Sterling for three years. They are now both older and have improved themselves over the tasks they faced and the lesson that they've learned.
(Y/N) is the enemy...
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Lovey sat near a body mirror, rubbing her fleshy tan cheeks and pressing her forehead up against the glass. Her long brown hair dangled near her breasts, it was light and silky, shining a nice orange color in the dim light. Her orange-brown orbs stared back at her through the reflection; they were warm, kind eyes.
She was given a large white t-shirt to cover her naked body, though, she wore it backward; the tag flared upwards in the front, (she had no idea of course, she has never worn a shirt before).
"Are you just gonna keep staring at yourself?" The lady from behind her huffed. She had been trying all day to break the door, so far she has been unsuccessful and has broken the only wooden chair in the room.
The 'cell' that they were in wasn't actually a cell at all, but the room was very bare: there were only two mattresses, a mirror, a small bathroom, a barred window, and now, a broken chair.
Lovey just stared up at the lady with innocent eyes, continuing to rub her cheeks until they got pink. She didn't know how to stand, nor talk; she had guessed this angered the lady quite a lot.
"I can't believe they forced me to sleep in a room with a mute girl, and set cameras in the bathroom. W-who does that!? Who sets cameras in the bathroom!?" The (H/C) haired lady complained. It's all she has been doing lately, she couldn't escape so the only thing she could do was be angry about absolutely everything.
Lovey continued to stare, trying to stand from her position. She was tall, about six feet maybe; her legs and torso were slim, but she towered over the lady when she stood.
She tried balancing herself on the mirror while the lady continued to try and smash the doorknob with a chair leg. She knew it wasn't going to work though; There was more than just a knob keeping them in.
"Not only that. But I'm stuck in the same god damn building as Lance Sterling," She continued. "The boss is gonna kill me. . ."
"L. . .Lan--ce is--good," Lovey struggled to say, her lip movements seemed over-exaggerated; she was trying way too hard.
"OH, so you can talk. Don't want to hear that though, Lance and his sidekick both deserve to get shot in the head," She said, she looked a little unsure though.
"Wal--ter--Walter is gOod," Lovey told her. "Good people."
The lady rolled her eyes and sighed, throwing the leg of the chair aside. "You know nothing. weren't you a. . . pigeon?"
Lovey didn't answer, she just stood awkwardly, clinging to the mirror. She was too afraid to let go of it.
"You don't need to do that you know? Just balance yourself. . ." The lady huffed.
Lovey's eyes moved to the floor, staring at her bare feet with amusement and moving her toes. she forgot humans had fingers on their feet! "Oooo."
"Wha--?" The lady tilted her head towards her in confusion. In a way, she kind of reminded her of her own daughter when she was a child. (Y/N) would get distracted and used to take joy in the most simplest things. ". . . It's not hard just-- here, " she held her arms out. "Just stand."
