Grand Theft (The Umbrella Academy)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: First Day

"I must admit, in all the time that I've been here, I've never met anyone quite like you two. Hazel and Cha-Cha, for example, are talented, certainly, but they can't see the big picture. Your spunk, your enterprising spirit, well, it reminds me a great deal of myself if I may be so vainglorious." She pulled them to her sides as they kept walking.

Fleur gave Five the once over suspiciously. She clearly knew him, but he was engaged to her. Or were they? He was married to a mannequin. What kind of relationship did they have exactly? They would've been around the same age. Fleur cringed at the notion. She was shaken from her thoughts at Five's hand towing her along. Fleur looked at Five and contemplated morphing back into an adult to better keep up with their lengthy strides.

"...If things work out for you here, one of you could potentially make a fine successor."

Fleur face soured. I'm good. Thank you.

"I'd like to discuss the logistics of my family's safety at your earliest convenience. As well as this body replacement." Fleur glanced at him in shock at how at ease he was here.

Body replacement? I understand him wanting to go back to his old self, it just doesn't settle well with me. I wanted to grow old along side him I suppose. Things in the apocalypse were so perfect. Daydreaming about what our life would be like if we were in our rightful time. Dreaming is dangerous. I don't blame him for wanting to look his age. There's a pretty big gap between thirteen and fifty-eight. I'd of course age match but I'm eighteen and my body can't break down with age. What do I do?

Fleur didn't see the point in wanting to look her age. When would it end? What would she look like if she's two-hundred years old?

"Such chutzpah. It's refreshing, I'll admit. Slow down, Five. All in good time. In fact, now that you've both finally agreed to work with us again, we've got all the time in the world. The Commission works in support of a delicate balance between the time line of events and mankind's free will."

The two slowed as they looked slack jawed at the rows of briefcases in one room. They spent all of that time obsessing over one and the Commission has dozens, if not hundreds.

"The briefcase is no longer part of your kit, Number Five. Free your mind. Your in management now. One of us. Connor, you'll receive yours in good time." Fleur glanced at Five and he lifted his chin with the same thought.

"All the people on this floor are case managers, each one responsible for one major event at a time." There were rows of case managers as far as the eye could see, all in identical cubicles.

"So many of them," Five and Fleur said in awe.

Probably spend their entire break trying to leave the room.

"Impressive, isn't it? Being part of something so grand. Come along." They stared in astonishment at the roar of chatter and phones ringing for a few seconds then carried on. "Whenever someone chooses the wrong path and the time line is changed, the Commission gets a report from field agents on the ground. These field reports are sorted and assigned to a case manager. They determine if anyone needs to be... removed from the equation to assure that their event happens as it should. Based on that determination, the case manager sends instructions via pneumatic tube to temporal assassins like you, Connor."

'Fleur' sure didn't last long here.

"Any questions so far?" The Handler clapped her hands together.

"Yeah. Who was the case manager handling me?"

"You mean the apocalypse." She caressed his face again and Fleur scrunched her nose. The look he gave his love was a mix of apologetic, and amused at how jealous he thought she was getting. Really she was mostly just flustered as to why he hadn't said anything or done anything about it yet.