On the quality improvement of Omega agents

Bruce looked lightly at the fluffy golden head coming out of the ventilation duct, his voice softened a bit.

"Your vacation is not over yet."

Randall jumped down from the ceiling nimbly, and landed so deftly that there was no sound.He smiled brightly at Bruce, and said, "I just want to come back." The blond agent added a bit of self-mockery in his tone, "I'm not comfortable ordering a pizza delivery, drinking beer and watching a baseball league."

Bruce glanced at him, and the blond agent somehow felt a little resigned connivance in his officer's eyes.He laughed even more heartlessly.

Then he watched Bruce pick up the phone on the table and press the internal line.

"Retract the lookout at Breakpoint Three. He's no longer in that house."

Randall laughed as he heard Bruce give orders in his usual, nonchalant tone.

After Bruce put down the phone, he said lazily: "But the pizza delivered is still delicious."

Bruce raised his eyebrows and glanced at him, then suddenly said, "How much did you hear just now?"

Randall shrugged his shoulders, "You know, I'm the best agent. I only listen to what I need to hear." The smile on the blond agent's face is very sincere, and I have to admit that it is very deceptive.

Bruce smiled slightly, and he saw his agent's eyes light up at the smile.Ocean blue eyes are always beautiful.

The black-haired man sat down behind the desk, and he said: "Rotter is conducting an experiment to further transform Breakpoint Agent."

Randall was surprised by Bruce's honesty, but he didn't show it on his face.The blond agent was leaning lazily on Bruce's table. He was wearing only an old shirt, showing a nice curve when his back was slightly bent.Bruce let the blond agent sit unruly on the edge of his desk, the edge of the wooden table pressing a concave line on Randall's buttocks, which was extraordinarily comical.

Bruce continued: "Breakpoints will be wiped out of emotion."

He saw Randall's back stiffen.Bruce is helpless with his imagination, he doesn't know why, but he thinks his agent is like some kind of feline, tensing his back and puffing out his fur because he feels threatened.

The raised hand of Cia's senior officer was forced by his own reason to stop in mid-air, and finally gently smoothed a small crease on the back of Randall's shirt, near the spine.

Randall felt a little itchy.After all, he didn't relax all the time, letting a powerful alpha stand behind him with the door wide open and resting his hand on his back.He turned around and Bruce's brown eyes looked at him calmly.

"Do you want this?" Randall asked.

Bruce raised his eyebrows hesitantly, he looked at the blonde agent: "What?"

Randall smiled, and his tone was calm, "I ask, do you want this, Breakpoint agents no longer have emotions, and are no longer affected by private emotions?"

Bruce looked at Randall lightly, his blue eyes focused. "It's never been a question of whether I want to, James."

Randall blinked, and he shook his head slowly.

"No, Bruce, that's always been the case."

The black-haired man was slightly taken aback by the name of agent, and inexplicable emotions flashed in his brown pupils.Bruce was silent for a while, and then said again: "James, you can choose this time." He created the breakpoint, but now he has to abandon it because of power disputes.Breakpoint is just a chip that he sees very, very heavily, and Randle is not.In other words, during these days, Bruce Stewart seriously "reflected" what the blonde agent meant to him.

——Randall is a weapon that he must pay attention to, a pet that is used to being with him, a beast that always wants to fight back...

But that's not all.

Bruce didn't know what else this blue-eyed guy meant to him, but it was too dangerous anyway.He cannot tolerate this.

Randall raised an eyebrow.He looked at Bruce in surprise, with no intention of hiding it.

Bruce looked flat: "Because you are different, James."

The blond agent finally laughed out loud after a few seconds of being stunned. He suppressed his voice in the office, laughing until the corners of his eyes were covered with fine lines.

Bruce looked at Randall quietly and smiled.

The blond agent finally calmed down his smile, the corners of his lips were still curled up, and hiccupped comically.

"I'm glad, Bruce, I'm glad you said that," he said, "I thought you'd be hiding like a turtle in your super-strong, almost impenetrable barrier, since that night in the desert .”

Bruce raised his eyebrows, but he didn't shy away from the "sensitive" subject, as the agent said.The monitoring equipment in the office has been turned off, Bruce thought, maybe it's time to talk.

He looked at Randall's hand covering his fingers.

Randall looked at Bruce with a smile. He sat on the other's large desk, rubbing his hands up dishonestly, and the well-made suit pants were pressed into folds.And there was a little smile on the corner of Bruce's lips that made his heart beat.

The agent's hands were hot, it had just snowed outside, and the temperature was sub-zero. Bruce remembered that in the snow in Brooklyn a long time ago, the thin boy with blond hair raised his head and gave himself his hand.The blond agent seemed to just put his hand on the back of his hand, and Bruce's eyes moved back and forth between the two men's hands and Randall's eyes.

"Why don't you explain?"

Randall laughed, and he took his hand away.The ring on Bruce's hand was exposed, and the silver one was very conspicuous.

The blond agent shrugged indifferently, and said, "I like you, Bruce, so I'm glad you think I'm different." He looked into the dark-haired man's eyes, as if what he just said was a big deal. "If you want to kill such feelings, I totally understand."

Bruce was silent for two seconds, he looked at Randall: "I didn't know you were such an obedient person." The black-haired man smiled and said, "Emotions can easily become a person's weakness, but I can't ask you Erase a part of yourself."

"Thanks then," Randall said.

He tilted his head to look at Bruce. The dark-haired man was as calm and dignified as ever, except for a rare softness on his face, which made him look tired.

"Are you tired, sir?"

Bruce leaned himself back in the chair, which made him look up at Randall slightly.His agent was smiling and energetic, and maybe those few days off had really worked for Randall.Bruce twitched the corner of his lips and said, "Thank you for your concern, Agent."

Randall looked at Bruce indifferently, "Will the breakpoint be abandoned?"

"That's not your concern, James," Bruce said.

The blond agent laughed, playing with Bruce's pen holder with one hand, and said: "Oh, be honest with me, Bruce." He winked his eyes: "To be honest, I don't care about their lives. "

"I just want to know why you brought that guy Rott back," Randall said, curling his lips in disgust when he mentioned the beta man's name, and added: "Why did you give up chips like breakpoints. "

The breakpoint project has not been going smoothly, but its breakthrough significance is beyond doubt.The "quality" of breakpoint agents is second to none in the special task force, and each breakpoint has made outstanding achievements by the standards of ordinary agents, which is undoubtedly an important weight for Bruce on his way to promotion in cia.

Bruce jerked his head back, an angle that made his neck ache, and looked back at Randall: "I hope this is just concern from you, Agent, maybe I just miss my boots with sand on them a little bit." Days." He stared at the blond agent with complicated eyes.

Randall grinned: "You're the best field agent I've ever seen, Bruce."

Randall knew what a good agent looked like.He relaxed Bruce's vigilance step by step, like a leopard ready to attack, crouching quietly in the reed grass, his muscles condensed with strength.This topic is obviously much easier than "like", "feeling" and "kill". Bruce's face was reflected in Randall's blue pupils. The man's pale face and black sideburns made him feel unreal. Feel.

They never talked like this.

The dark-haired man leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and sleepy, as if oblivious to all of Randall's tricks and intentions.

"So, Bruce, have you ever given up on a lot of people? Even if you cared about them."

Bruce still maintained that lazy posture that was extremely rare for senior CIA officers. He only slightly turned his head to one side when he heard Randall's words, and his brown eyes met the blonde agent.

His agents are tense, desperate.Bruce saw it clearly.

He knew how Randall behaved when he was nervous, like knowing when his domestic cat arched its back and stretched its back.Randall is rarely nervous, he always looks cynical and joking, but yearns for the cruel blood and slaughter, like a lunatic in the situation of life and death.Bruce had seen him nervous, gobbled it up in some crappy bakery in Brooklyn years ago, when he arrogantly punched a hole in the examiner's hat for his first special agent test and was sued before him. Surrounded by those white coats, when lying on the operating table in the laboratory and looking out the window.

Childish nervousness.This made Bruce soften involuntarily.

He said slowly, "I won't give up on people I care about."

Randall smiled, and he looked away, licking his lips at the silver ring on Bruce's finger.

"So have you ever loved someone?"

Bruce looked up at him, and Randall's sea-blue eyes were fixed on him.

He watched Bruce take the ring off his finger.

"We don't exist for feelings, Randall James."

Randall looked at him blankly, he couldn't understand.

Then a kiss ensued, and the blond agent's mind went blank.He was sitting against Bruce's desk when the man stood up suddenly, his face enlarged in front of Randall's eyes, and his lips pressed together.

This is a very formal kiss, Randall thought vaguely, and Bruce even put his hands on the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He could feel the man's fingers combing slowly in the hair on the back of his head, playing stroking the ends of his hair.

Bruce Stewart, kissed him, took the initiative.

Randall blinked, they were so close he could see his own blank, idiot-like face in Bruce's brown pupils.And there was no smile in Bruce's eyes.

"As much as I like this kiss, Bruce, I don't understand." Randall was still sitting on his desk funny, and he looked at Bruce after the almost lingering kiss.

And his officer just looked at him for a few seconds.

"If you choose this profession, you will be swallowed by it one day, James," Bruce said, "I like you very much."

Randall scratched his head, his blond hair froze in all directions, he looked irritable and anxious, "There is no logic in your two sentences, Bruce."

The dark-haired man laughed, a real laugh.He reached out and smoothed Randall's messy hair, "That's all an answer, James, to your question just now, and why you came today."

Randall froze for a moment, as if he was really thinking, his buttocks moved uneasily on the desk.Bruce looked at him indifferently, then turned around, he picked up the coat on the back of the chair, the blonde agent blinked his eyes on the spot as if he didn't see Bruce's movements.

He asked if he would fall in love with someone.He asked if he would fall in love with himself.

Randall watched Bruce put on his customary black woolen coat, then put the silver ring on the table back on his finger.

He watches Bruce leave the office.

The blond agent jumped off the table a few minutes later, he smiled, but his face was a bit confused.He doesn't understand.

Randall shook his head irritably. He licked his lips, then opened the case of the watch on his wrist, paused for a moment while holding the white pill, and threw the medicine back.The blond agent stood up straight, walked around the office, took out Bruce's old overcoat and put it on, and left the office in a hurry. The agent's usual lazy smile had returned to his face.

—Then go figure it out.

cia underground parking lot.

Bruce was sitting in the car, and the black-haired man flipped through the storage box angrily, and a few empty needles rolled around in it.He looked up and saw his own eyes in the rearview mirror.

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut. ——Oh, when a kiss can have such a big influence on you!Bruce rubbed his brow, maybe it's time for him to buy a couple of bourbons on the way home.

The black-haired man switched on the communication device while starting the car.

"I need an accident, Kent's funeral is on the agenda."

The man's voice was flat, revealing a coldness that penetrated deep into the bone marrow. "He said the wrong thing, to the wrong person," Bruce said. "He should have known what was going to happen."

Bruce's car was parked in front of his single-family house, the man slammed the door, and there were two bottles of bourbon in the paper bag, and the glass bottles made clinking noises.Bruce took out the key to open the door, and a black cat squatting on the steps quickly disappeared into the grass next to it, like a black phantom.

Bruce closed the door and the lights in the house came on.A gray car slowly stopped on the side of the road.

Sea blue eyes narrowed slowly.