Grand Theft (The Umbrella Academy)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Comfort

"And that's how Phil determined that the archduke just had to go. Care for dessert?" She gestured to the candy bowl.

"No thanks. I had a bad Twinkie in the apocalypse once," Five said, shaken from his thoughts. "It kind of put me off desserts."

"Please, Five, indulge me." She took a puff from her cigarette. He sighed then took one. "What's that taste like to you?"

"The 1950s?"

"Precisely right." She leaned forward in her seat. "Our clever metaphysics division concocted a way to perfectly distill an entire decade into a single candy. This one's modeled after the Fudge Mutt, America's favorite in 1955."

"Remarkable," Five said, genuinely impressed.

"You'll be happy to know it's the very division that's building your new body."

I wonder how Fleur would feel about being with an older man. Wonder if I'll even be here long enough to have it. I'm not Haddock, in my twenties, but she loves me. She'd never cheat on me.

"Oh, that reminds me. I have something for you." The Handler pressed a button on her phone. "Carla?"

"Yes?" Carla replied over the intercom.

"Would you bring the box in, please?"

"Certainly." She walked in the room with a box almost immediately. Guess a person would always have to be on their toes working for the Handler.

"Go ahead, open it." He lifted the lid to see a suit. "Clothes make the person." She looked Five up and down. "Won't it be nice when you can actually wear it? Very soon, I assure you. They're perfecting your body as we speak."

"Thank you." Five had genuinely meant it. He'd been wanting to shake his thirteen year old image and hated having to wear his school boy uniform. "It's a very kind gift." Five nodded.

Five scanned the room. His eyes fell on a wall of weapons, particularly the grenades. "Is that a Chinese flamethrower?"

"Good eye." She pointed at Five.
"War. Such a fascinating concept. A temporary salve for a permanent human flaw. Course, it's a bit easier to see from thirty-thousand feet. These are just some of the things I've collected in my travels. M26 grenades from the Vietnam War." The Handler tossed one up.

Could be useful.

"And this, the most noteworthy, perhaps. My Walter pistol. The very one that Hitler used to kill himself." She placed it in his hand, but he didn't pay much mind to it. "We're not supposed to take these kind of things, but he wasn't gonna use it anymore," the Handler softly spoke with a wink. "Feel how perfectly balanced that is."

Five handed it back. "I had some thoughts I wanted to run by you. Some suggestions to improve Commission protocol." He changed the topic.

"Mm! Shaking things up already," she exclaimed while slightly shaking her shoulders. "I admire that." She caressed his face again. Five grimaced. "Go on. Do tell!"

"Gloria. The tube operator. Wouldn't it be simpler if case managers were to send their own messages?"

"I appreciate the thought. I really do. But everyone loves Gloria. I-I would never hear the end of it." The Handler chuckled. "She's been with the Commission family for years, and she's this close to making pension." The Handler squinted her fingers.

knock knock

"Sorry to interrupt. May I have a moment alone?" a woman asked.

"Of course," the Handler replied. "Duty calls." She stood up from the chair behind her desk. "We'll continue this discussion later, Five."