Agents Weston and Jones go investigating
Gilbert was enjoying a lie in one morning, when he was rudely interrupted by some persistent knocking at his flat’s front door.
“Go away!” he shouted grumpily. The knocking continued.
“Fine…” he sighed. He hauled himself out of bed, threw on his dressing gown, shuffled over to the door and opened it. To his surprise, Sarah Weston, the MI5 agent he had met in the park, was standing in the doorway. He could hardly recognise her now though, as instead of her scruffy hoodie from before, she was wearing a smart black suit and skirt, and her hair was no longer quite so erratic. She was still clutching a bag of donuts for some reason. Her smart clothes made Gilbert feel rather self-conscious in his scruffy old rainbow striped dressing gown.
“Good morning!” she brightly greeted him. Gilbert inwardly groaned. He hated morning people and by the smile on her face, she clearly must be one. “Are you ready to begin your training?”
“No,” Gilbert replied, preparing to shut the door. “It’s like 8 am I’m not even ready to begin consciousness.”
“Well too bad,” she said as she smartly put her foot in the way of the closing door. “I have no idea how long I’ll be in the area for so we’ve got to make the most of what time we have.” She moved past Gilbert and into his flat.
Reluctantly, Gilbert let her, and closed the door behind her. She was right. “Yes, you’re right Sarah,” he admitted.
“Course I am, I’m always right!” she cheerfully replied while taking a seat at his table. “And it’s Agent Weston today, since we’re going to be using the badges.”
“Why are we -“Gilbert began, but was cut off.
“Just get dressed and then I can explain on the way. How long will it take you to get your suit on?”
“Um… 15 minutes?”
“Well you had better hurry up because we’re leaving in 5.”
“So where are we going?” asked Gilbert as he gripped his car seat. The way Agent Preston drove her Mini (red with the Union Flag on top of course) was… ‘erratic’, if you were being kind. ‘Terrifying’ if you were being honest.
“To the Supernatural writer’s headquarters,” replied Agent Weston as she casually swerved to avoid some kids who were crossing the road.
Gilbert made a strangled noise. He couldn’t go back there! Not after what a disaster last time had been…
“You alright, Agent Jones?” she asked with something that may have been concern in her voice. It was hard to tell, because there was also a lot of amusement. “You look a bit sickly…”
Gilbert just swallowed. God, how could he ever show his face there again? What if he saw Jeremy? Or the NHI? Or worse… both? From what he had gathered, those two were pretty close, so it was almost certain NHI would have told Jeremy about the kiss, or someone else would have. He had been planning to conduct his investigation from afar and only confront the NHI when he had proof of his identity and a means of stopping him, but now that plan was crashing around his ears.
Thankfully, Agent Weston didn’t seem to notice his internal turmoil and instead took his fear of going to the writers HQ as fear of her awful driving. “Don’t worry Agent Jones; we’ve got seatbelts and everything, so we’ll be fine.”
Hearing her attitude did not improve Gilbert’s mental state.
“Anyway,” she continued, confident that she had allayed her trainee’s fears. “When we get there, we need to have a look around and meet as many of the staff as possible. We need to work out who ships what, who has the authority to change the canon, and who we can convince to help us.”
“I’ve already done an investigation like this,” protested
Gilbert. “Do we really need to do another?”
“Yes, because you haven’t done it with me,” Agent Weston firmly said, while overtaking a lorry so close Gilbert was sure he could hear the paint scratching off. “But that’s good that you’ve made a start.”
When they arrived, Agent Weston got out the car, started walking towards the building, then stopped and turned around. “I just thought of something,” she said. “How good is your English accent?”
“Pretty good if you ask me,” replied Gilbert in a terrible English accent.
Agent Weston made a face. “I guess I’ll have to do my American accent then,” she said, in a way that sounded more Australian than anything else. “Or maybe not,” she realised. “Just leave most of the talking to me. Is it likely they will know you here from your previous investigation?”
Gilbert thought back to the scene he had caused last time. “Yeah…” he admitted. “Almost certainly.”
“Great! That gives me a good excuse to be with a member of the NSA!”
Without explaining any further, Agent Weston turned starting striding towards the entrance, leaving Gilbert to hurry after her.
“Agent Weston, MI5, official business.” Agent Weston showed her badge to Jim the security guard.
“Agent Jones, NS-“
“Hey! Gilbert, right?” Jim interrupted. “Haven’t seen ya around in a while, lover boy!”
“Uhh yes well you see…” stammered Gilbert.
“Well if ya with him I’ve gotta let ya in, don’t I?” laughed Jim to a confused Agent Weston. “D’ya need someone to show ya round?”
“Yes, a guide would be most helpful, thank you,” replied Agent Weston, trying to look professional while at the same time giving confused looks to a squirming Gilbert.
“Sure thing Agent, I’ll go get one of the interns for ya.”
As Jim walked down the corridor, leaving them alone, Agent Weston crossed her arms. “That was nice of him,” she said. “But I didn’t even get to use my awesome cover story about searching for the illuminati…”
She sounded so despondent that Gilbert momentarily postponed his plans of getting the hell out of there and instead felt compelled to cheer her up. Despite all her big talk, he remembered, she hadn’t actually had any experience in the field yet, and had probably been looking forwards to it.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure someone will ask you what you’re doing here,” he said kindly.
“Of course they will, I knew that,” she snapped, but Gilbert knew she had perked up a lot. “Isn’t it exciting to be at the actual Supernatural writers HQ? I mean… obviously I’ve been to loads of writer’s HQ’s…” She coughed. “But these are the most interesting! I wonder who we’ll see…”
As she slipped out patronizing agent mode and into excitable fangirl mode, Gilbert started silently walking towards the door. If he could just get out of there without her noticing, he could run across the road to the bus stop and catch the first bus to ‘place-that-isn’t-here-ville’. From there he could –
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Look, Jim’s coming back now, and he’s got someone to show us around!”
Slowly, Gilbert turned around. Sure enough, Jim was lumbering along the corridor and behind him…
“Oh no…” Gilbert breathed. He had to get out of there, but it was too late. Agent Weston had grabbed his arm and pulled him round to meet their guide.
“Here ya go, one intern guide!” proudly announced Jim. “He’ll be with ya all day, showing ya round and introducing folks.”
“I’m Agent Weston, MI5, this is Agent Jones, NSA,” Agent Weston said professionally. Suddenly she flipped back into fangirl mode. “Hey, nice hat!”
“Thanks.” The intern adjusted his adventure-time-Finn-style-hat, tucking one of his blonde curls back under it. He caught Gilbert’s eye and winked. “They call me the NHI.”