Under the Radar

Chapter 1 - The Mouse

'Click clack clack' went your keyboard. Your eyes darted between the two monitors as you typed up research on the location you'd been assigned. The information you'd pulled together was to be used in a mission briefing for a field agent, so it was essential that you included all the background they needed while keeping it concise. Some of your colleagues dismissed these reports as trivial admin, but you never underestimated their importance. You understood that an agent needed to know exactly what they were getting themselves into when they were out in the field.

You leaned back in your chair as you proofread the text, carefully tuning out the steady hum of the office noise around you.

Your eyes briefly caught his from across the office floor. Bright blue, ocean blue even. They seemed to sparkle back at you, even in the dreary office lighting. He shot you a hint of a smile so quickly you were barely sure you'd seen it. You smiled back, but he'd already walked away. Typical Nick...always throwing you a few meagre crumbs....

...but still, you'd always gobble them up gratefully.

Nick Fowler. One of the most respected and appraised agents in the CIA. Suave. Unflappable. Fearless. If confidence was cash, Nick was Bill Gates. Everyone in the CIA knew of Nick. Everyone wanted to work with him.

...but none of them knew you were sleeping with him.

In fact, none of them even knew who you were.

Quiet, unassuming, you. Assistant. Hard worker. Tech whiz. Research expert. Your briefing reports were some of the best in the CIA. Thorough. Assured. If someone needed a drive decrypted, they asked you. If someone needed hours of surveillance footage analysed, they asked you. In short, you got shit done. And you got it done well. The agents relied on you to do their jobs.

Yet in spite of your impressive output, you didn't have a reputation like Nick's. No. Nothing like it. Your colleagues barely knew your name. You were the quiet one, the shy one. The little mouse diligently working away at her laptop in the background. It was almost as if being a constant high performer meant nobody was ever impressed. It was just taken for granted that you'd work at the standard you always had.

Not that you minded too much. The idea of being the centre of attention didn't really appeal to you. You liked working with computers more than you did with people. You didn't always know the right thing to say, you weren't charismatic like Nick. So you didn't really mind blending into the background, quietly working out of the spotlight. It was safe. Comfortable.

Still...you couldn't deny that you sometimes dreamed of working out in the field. Of actually going to the locations you wrote the reports about. Of completing a mission, finding your target. Using actions rather than writing text. Wielding weapons rather than wrangling computers. You knew you were smart enough. You knew you were resourceful enough. You knew you'd probably do a good job of it if you just had the chance...

But you didn't.

So you kept on. Typing away like you always had. Occasionally dreaming of a different life. Unseen.

Nick had seen you though.

You'd written a report for him a few months ago. It was detailed, comprehensive. You'd cross referenced previous missions in that area and pulled historic records to give him the full picture. You'd meekly knocked on his office door once you'd finished, holding the binder in slightly trembling hands. Nick always made you nervous. Maybe it was his prowess...or maybe it was the teeny tiny crush you'd developed on him over the years. You occasionally stole glances at him from across the office, marvelling at his chiselled jawline, the strong line of his back. You once saw him in a tight white t-shirt after a training session, sweat dripping off his taut muscles, and you had to rush back to your desk to calm down.