Pencil scrathing at sheets of paper, fingers clacking along the keyboard that sat before him, Buddy Lionel Pine hadn't looked up from his work in what felt like days. He had poured all of his thoughts and effort into his projects, never once bothering to check to see how long he had been sitting in his office chair. He had deadlines to meet, plans to follow, ideas to draw up - and nothing was going to stop him from meeting the goals he, as well as the NSA, had set up for him.
"Damnit, no, that's not right..." the redhead mumbled to himself, bringing his eraser harshly down onto the paper that sprawled upon his desk. Blueprints for his latest invention had been drawn up on them, an idea that he and other NSA agents had come up with a few months prior. It was an enhancement type of gadget, one that would help strengthen the powers of the Supers who were signed with the National Supers Agency. Some of Buddy's colleagues believed that such an invention was impossible - but such a statement only encouraged the genius to come up with a solution. And, after weeks of planning, drawing up shematics, working out the physics, science, and inner workings of it all, a basic sketch was finally being realized.
That would certainly make people think twice about ever doubting him and his abilities.
Of course, just his luck, the instant his pencil was about to meet with the paper once again, his office phone gave a sudden ring. It was at this moment that Buddy, finally, glanced at the clock. His bloodshot eyes took note of the time, realizing that he hadn't left his office in nearly sixteen hours.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Buddy leaned back in his leather chair, his large hand reaching forward and hitting the "speaker" button of his phone.
"Mr. Pine, Rick Dicker is in the office today. He wants to discuss the status of your petition."
Silence rushed over the office, a chill running up Buddy's spine. He had sent a request to the head agent of the NSA over a year ago. Now they were ready to discuss it? Why? Was this good or bad?
Not wanting to think too much into it, Buddy calmly replied, "Thank you, Cassandra. Meeting in his office, I'm guessing?"
"As usual, sir. I'll have a cup of coffee sitting on your desk for you when you come back."
Giving his secretary a quick thank you, Buddy quickly ended the call, his hand immediately moving to brush the hair from his face. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Despite working nearly three years with the NSA, he knew that hardly anyone within the agency trusted him. After everything he had done to all those Supers so many years ago? How could he blame them? He still had a hard time trusting himself these days. But this - this would change all that. If this request went through, then everything would be looking out for Buddy. All of his hard work would pay off.
A flash of raven hair outside the glass walls of his office made the redhead snap back to reality. Carefully standing from his desk, his hand grabbing at his trusty cane, Buddy threw the door open and made his way to the office of Rick Dicker.
He just hoped everything would, finally, go according to plan.
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