Pretend theres a good name here also its past midnight help

*[go to sleep **dem** it.... get it cuz like.... aight ill kill myself now - potato]*

The Godfather sat in his penthouse office, feet
on his desk and tossing a coin up and down in his hand. His rat was out and
about, ready to report any findings. He chuckled to himself, real damn smart
for thinking up that one. "Ah.." He sighed out, stretching his arms
behind his head and leaning back in his chair. "Adkins is gonna have a
field day once I start blurting out everything to him right in his face."
He laughs, dropping his chair back down flat.

A knock came to his door. "Godfather? May I
talk to you?"

He quickly stuffed a paper with a doodle of him
laughing at Adkins into his suit pocket, "Of course, come in."

The girl stepped in, a book in one arm and a
small bag in the other.

"Pepper, didn't think I'd see you talk
outside of work in a long time. What's the occasion?"

"Right. We both know I'm not stupid, and a
lot smarter than you are. Maybe not as strong or such, but that's besides the
point."

"Speaking of which, what *is* your
point?"

She pulls out a silenced pistol and fires it at
his chest, seeing the lack of any form of damage dealt. "Explain that. No
amount of planning will stop a bullet from colliding with even your shirt. A
bulletproof vest would still break the suit, and I want an explanation as to
how you get away with anything that comes at you."

He squints at her, then tosses up his hands.
"Well, I figured someone would figure it out eventually, though I was
hoping it'd be a bit later. Close the door."

She kicks the door closed from behind with her
foot.

"This does not leave this room, because I
know the others would go even more crazy over it." He flicks his hand
outwards, a thin, black spike exiting from each of his fingertips.

She looks at him, quizzically. "I.. see. But
how does that explain-"

"Getting to it." He pulls two of his
fingers together then parts them, between them is an entirely different room in
an entirely different building. "If what you're seeing doesn't make sense,
well, you'd be right." He shuts them and pulls them apart again. She looks
through it, seeing the back of her head. "Go ahead, poke your finger in.
It won't kill you."

She does as told, even going as far in as to push
the back of her head, jumping at her own touch. "I.. what.."

"Now imagine that, but some random room in
I-don't-care, and the bullet goes through and ends up there instead of in me.
Make sense?"

"As.. much as it can."

"That all you care about?"

"Uh.. yeah." She turns around towards
the door, entirely in disbelief. "You're something special, really."

"Yep. Be happy, you're the only one to know
about that and still be alive after a minute. Doesn't mean you can blabber
about it, though. Have a good day, Pepper."

She nods, opens the door and exits. The godfather
sits back in his chair, leaning back in it. "Good thing she didn't ask
about anything else." He snaps, the wall opening almost like a zipper-fly
into with serrated edges, exiting through the other wall. "Otherwise
everyone would be all over that." He chuckles, and the wall closes back
up.

Pepper sits back down in the parlor, still
visibly dumbfounded.

"Hey, you look confused. You don't get
confused, the hell happened?" The fellow raised an eyebrow, momentarily
stopping the polishing of his gun.

"I wish I could tell you." She pulled
her book back in front of her eyes to hide her face.

Adkins stood in the center of his office in front
of a cork board. Tacks with strings and note cards with various words were
strung all across. "Damnit, Vare what the hell.." He rubs his eyes,
dragging a pen across the board. "What are you, a fucking vampire?!"
He knocks the board down, throwing the pen at his office door and kicking the
board.

"Sir, calm down!" A voice from outside
calls.

"I'll calm down when I'm good and ready,
damnit!"

He steps into the office, holding a box of files.
"Sir, you've been awake for days on end, or so I've heard. The rest of us
have been concerned with your well-being over this whole case, you need to take
some time to rest."

The director glares at the man, slowly closing
his eyes and sighing. "You're right, you're right. Tomorrow I'm taking an
off-day, this is getting out of hand."

"Good to hear, Sir." The man smiles and
steps towards the door.

"You're a good agent, Fravardin."

"Thank you, Sir." He turns out of the
office, his smile turning into a malicious grin, continuing down the hall with
his box of files, dropping it out of a window into a dumpster. He mutters to
himself, "The Godfather will pick it up later.."

In the dead of night, the Godfather pokes around
the dumpsters outside the FBI office, grabbing the box and smiling. "Rat
found some cheese, it looks like." He chuckles to himself and begins on
his way back to the Clubhouse.