#*wyatt.

wyatt: is this how snapchat works ? wyatt: i'm so confused, why would i send a pic of myself wyatt: but i'm here cause i like seeing pics of you ...

wyatt knew how he should be spending his friday evening. he should be catching up on reading, or heading to the practice range. he should even just be sleeping, resting up for the weeks of undercover work ahead that would no doubt test him in many ways. what he SHOULDN'T be doing is going out to bars with his new friends, aka his mentors and higher ranked agents. no, he definitely shouldn’t be doing that. even as they walked into the first bar, wyatt could tell he was out of his element. the other agents were rowdy, loud and obnoxious with a spirit that oozed overconfidence. they went right to the bar, skipping over anyone already ahead of them. they ordered their drinks as if they owned the place. and while wyatt stayed back, he couldn’t help but get a sour taste in his mouth from the sight of it all. in order to wash it all down, he ordered a beer and found himself near one of his new advisors, an agent with quite a few more years of experience on wyatt. listening in to a few different conversations, the one right next to him was the most challenging to not eavesdrop on. the guy, basically is boss, was hitting on some unsuspecting girl one seat away. and with every awful line, wyatt could see the girl become less and less interested. feeling CHIVALROUS, wyatt scooted between the two and ordered himself another drink, acting oblivious to the guy flirting with her. just as he did so, the male leaned closer and said some DEGRADING line that made wyatt almost spit his drink out in amazement. they let people like this work for the fbi ? really ? he made a mental note to ask around about this guy before turning his attention to the woman, making sure he wasn’t invading her space too much. “ sorry about captain america over there. apparently one beer does him in for the night ... ”