#it'll be in the same folder so just check back like 2 days after i post and it should be there

[nugatorysheep]

not me being in the process of getting frames of the SU movie, setting it to 1 fps so my PC doesnt explode, only to realize that at that low of a frame rate it didnt capture the connverse kiss at the beginning, then deleting the frames and doing it again at 2fps to make sure i grabbed that frame (I am Very Normal about fictional characters)

[mbcorvo-author]

I started this a few days ago but I cannot think of some plot to put behind it to continue this thing... so I guess that it'll remain a simple 2k words drabble lol

I don't even have a title for this! The file was named "guywhotalkedtotimetraveller" so I guess that it'll be the title for the time being?

Inspired by this prompt by @writing-prompt-s

(also I hope it's understandable enough, I'm trying to write directly in English instead of translating every time but English is not my language;;)

The guy who talked to the time traveller

"I'll be what now?" Thomas said, a puzzled expression on his face, staring at the man standing at the entrance of his cubicle. The man that looked like an FBI agent out from some spy movie huffed and rolled his eyes. "You'll be interrogating someone for us." "A-and why me?" Thomas asked "I... I'm just a mere pencil-pusher here, I'm not... like... okay, I'm a Government employee but- but I do not work for that- that kind of... department," he stuttered, nervous under the glare of the stranger, fixing the glasses on his nose. "I... I- you maybe... dunno got sent to the wrong building, maybe?" The FBI-like man moved a step inside the cubicle, staring down at the bumbling clerk sitting on an old desk wheelie desk chair. That guy was trying hard to not appear intimidated by him. And failing at that. He shoved the manila folder in the clerk's chest that jumped at the sudden movement and clumsily grabbed the folder with all the files inside it. "Then this is a promotion for you, congrats." he said in a flat tone "Now get up and follow me."

Thomas opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but he still didn't have the words, so he closed it again and got up from his chair, clutching the manila folder to his chest with his right hand The man in a dark suit huffed something under his breath, then stepped out from the office cubicle, followed by the nervous employee. He started walking down the large room towards the corridor that leads to the elevators.

They walked in silence, Thomas nervously stealing glances at the man escorting him. Only once closed in the elevators, the employee finally gathered enough courage to speak up. "Uh, so-" he started "From... you..." he mumbled, "You look like an FBI guy..." "I'm not." "Then...uh...what...? Who are you?" "Agent Bancroft, from the Bureau for Research and Assessment of Special Threats" "Oh." the employee fell in a silence that lasted for a long couple of minutes before he spoke again, "And what's that? Never heard of it." he asked, "Sounds like something coming out from... from dunno a- a comic book. Like the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence from Hellboy... or- or also the SHIELD from Marvel comics. Or!" he lifted his free hand "The Men in Black!"

The man pinched the root of his nose and took a deep breath. The higher-ups couldn't have possibly found someone more pathetic than this pencil-pusher even if they tried hard for aeons. He understood that they wanted someone low-profile, not important and easily replaceable, but this guy was too clueless and... well, surely didn't look like he was the right person for the assignment they wanted to entrust to him. "Yeah," Bancroft said after that long pause "Let's say something like that." "That sounds pretty cool," a weak smile on Thomas' face, "I'm Thomas Bohnam, a low-level employee in the..." he stopped, "Oh, wait, you already know. Haha-" a short dry laugh, while he ran his free hand on the back of his neck.

The elevator finally dinged their stop at the ground floor, and Agent Bancroft exited as soon as the doors opened, followed suit by the clerk clutching the manila folder. They walked through the building hall and left it, the agent walking towards the nearby parking lot. "So uh- where... where are we going now?" "You'll see when we'll be there." he stopped near a black SUV with tinted windows and opened one of the back doors. "And... and why do I have to interrogate someone for your Bureau?" Thomas asked, getting in the car followed by Bancroft that proceeded in closing the door. "Orders," he stated. He gave a quick nod to the agent in the driver's seat, who promptly started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, taking the road leading to their destination. "So... are we going to be... like... dunno, sort of colleagues?" "Probably" "And who I-" "I gave you some of the files." Bancroft interrupted him, pointing at the manila folder, "Up to you if you want to read them now or when we'll be there." "Ah." he completely forgot about that folder, even if he held it in his right hand all the time.

----

The drive to where they were supposed to be - probably the Bureau headquarters, guessed Thomas - was at the same time long, but not that long. Maybe some strategic tactic to confuse outsiders and keep the exact location unknown? That would also explain why the tinted windows in the back seats didn't let you see anything going on outside and why they lifted a similarly tinted screen to separate them from the driver. Thomas was not supposed to know where they were going.

When they stopped and left the car, they were inside what - to the clerk's eyes - appeared to be a plain empty hangar. Agent Bancroft and agent Leavitt - the one that was behind the wheel - started walking towards one of the ends of the hangar, while Thomas was looking around trying to figure out where he was.

"C'mon! We don't have all day, buddy." exclaimed agent Leavitt, their nasal voice echoed in the empty building. Thomas jumped, clutched the folder to his chest and started walking, picking up the pace to reach the two agents that - meanwhile - stopped in front of what looked like a reinforced door with a keypad and another panel probably for some type of biometric scan, Thomas imagined.

Thomas nervously fixed his glasses on the nose and lowered the gaze onto his battered black Oxford-style shoes. His anxiety was starting to rise again. The agents called for his attention again and ushered him inside what to the simple employee's eyes looked like another elevator with really high security. And that started going down. "So... uh- underground?" Thomas commented, breaking the silence and trying to distract himself, "Th- that's cool. It's kinda... like the bureau in Hellboy and... and the MiB headquarters," A glare from agent Leavitt shut Thomas up. He shuffled a bit, fixing his wrinkled white button-down inside his black pants, then his grey tie around the neck. Thomas still had his little badge pinned on the chest pocket. He wondered if to keep it or remove it, but the elevator reached the floor of their destination, and the clerk's attention was back on the two agents leading the way in a large and anonymous corridor.

He clutched again the folder to his chest while following the two agents leading the way in that underground floor with corridors too similar to each other. “Bancroft, Leavitt!” called a voice unknown to Thomas, who lifted his eyes back up to look in the voice’s direction. The owner of the voice was a man in his fifties (or so Thomas assumed), with salt and pepper hair and a serious expression on his square-ish face, that was walking towards the three of them. “Boss” replied Leavitt, halting their walk followed by Bancroft. “Finally you’re back, why did you take so much time?” the man asked, stopping a few steps from the trio. “Bohnam here was a bit… skittish about being assigned a task outside his field of work” replied Leavitt, moving a hand to gesture at the nervous clerk between them and Bancroft. “But I was able to convince him, in the end.” added Bancroft “As you can see, boss”. “Ah, good, good.” nodded their boss, eyes then moving onto Thomas, “I’m Gibson, Head of this section of the Bureau.” he quickly introduced himself “I’d explain you some more things, but we don’t want to get too behind schedule,” and saying that he turned around and started walking, followed by Leavitt and Bancroft and - a beat later - by Thomas.

“I need you to lead this interrogation with the suspected time traveller we are keeping into custody and-” “A what?” exclaimed Thomas, not realizing of having interrupted the higher-up. “...A time traveller. Did you read the files, did you?” he asked, turning his head a little to glance at the clerk. “Uhhh… well, actually… I barely remember what I read because I had a panic attack and words started to not make any sense.” Thomas confessed, lowering his gaze. Gibson sighed, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. You’ll have time to check everything while you're interrogating him.” and on these last words, he stopped near a plain black door on the right of the corridor. On it, there was only a little label with ‘2-C’ written on it. “We’ll be in the adjacent room, listening and monitoring the interrogation.” added Bancroft, before following Leavitt and Gibson through another door.

“Oh, shit” Thomas exhaled. His anxiety was starting to rise up again, but he tried to put on his best work persona and at least appear calm. He removed his nametag and shoved it inside his breast pocket while picking from it his cheap ballpoint pen with the chewed bottom. A big breath and then he entered the interrogation room.

The room was plain: grey walls, a supposedly two-way mirror on one of the walls, a metal table that was screwed to the floor, two simple chairs and on one of them - on the side opposite to the door - there was the time traveller. For Thomas’ eyes, the time traveller looked like any other normal dude… probably on the side of having a bad taste in clothing. Or maybe it was himself the one with bad taste, but surely the man in front of him looked like he did not know how to match colours… but, also, he didn’t understand a single thing of fashion so-

“Finally someone showed up!” grunted the alleged time-traveller, stopping the random train of thoughts that was running free in Thomas’ mind. “Ah- ehm-” Thomas cleared his voice “Yes. Hello.” he said, walking towards the table and sitting on the free chair. He put the manila folder and the chewed pen on the table, nervously fixed his glasses on his nose before starting to speak again “I was appointed to conduct this interrogation. Or you could see it more like an interview if it makes you feel more at ease.” a weak smile on his lips. “Name’s Thomas Bohnam and you’re” he lowered his gaze and opened the manila folder “Stardust… uh- how is your last name pronounced? Anyway, from what I see you’re a time traveller? That sounds very interesting, I’d honestly never thought that time-travel could be possible and-”

Thomas lifted his gaze back on the time traveller, finding him frozen and staring at him wide-eyed. It looked like Stardust also paled a little. “Something is wrong…?”

“W-what… What did you say? Y-your name, what did you say it is?” stammered the time traveller. “Thomas Bohnam, why?” he repeated, a brow lifted and tilting his head on one side, confused by the weird reaction from the other guy. Thomas jumped a little when Stardust slammed his hands on the table, swearing and then quickly standing up making his chair fall on the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck!” the time traveller repeated, running his hands on his face and hair, walking back and forth on his side of the room. “Fuck! Of all the people I could accidentally meet while in this Era, I had to find Thomas fucking Bohnam!” Thomas was shocked by the reaction of the time traveller that was freaking out after discovering who he was. But why? Why this strong reaction? He looked in the two-way mirror, hoping to see some kind of signal but obviously, he could only see the reflection of what was happening in the room.

“Ahem” he cleared his throat again, trying to get the time-traveller’s attention “Why… what…” he stammered before shutting up for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. “What is the problem? We’ve met in the future? Or maybe you’re confusing me with someone with the same name? Homonymy is not that rare…” “The problem?! The problem?!” the time traveller exclaimed, turning towards Thomas. “The problem is that you-” then he cut himself off and swore again. “Can’t talk. How the hell am I supposed to know what could cause a goddamn paradox? I can’t say jack shit.” he huffed, lifting the chair from the ground and returning to sit on it. “God. Can’t wait to tell the others I’ve been in the same room as that motherfucker.” he muttered, crossing his arms.