The name's Chloe. No middle or last name. Just Chloe. I'm a wetworks agent who specializes in translation. I know over 30 languages, including French, Arabic, German, Italian, Spanish, and even Klingon... seriously. I'm the go to girl when an agent needs something translated.
I also look for hidden codes and messages in the documents that I translate. Lots of times, I'll come across a letter written in a foreign language, and it will either say something mundane, or sometimes it's gibberish. I analyze these documents for repetitive phrases, letters that are written in a different style from other letters, numbers, even tiny lettering that may be too small to see with the naked eye.
I'm not the only wetworks agent who does this. There are thousands of translator agents throughout the world. Thousands of agents are needed because automated translators don't always get it right, and usually miss secret codes and phrases. Since I know so many languages, I usually get the tougher assignments. Much of what I translate is innocuous garbage, but I've deciphered some intelligence that ended up saving several agent's lives, sometimes more then once.
Overall I like my job. My main complaint is that it's boring as hell. It's not too bad though. Unless a flood of stuff comes in, I only have to work a few hours a day. The rest of the day I spend either hanging out with other off duty agents, or sometimes I leave the complex and venture out into the city. I have a few hobbies to keep me entertained when I'm not working. One of these hobbies is cooking. I'm very good at it and I'm always trying new recipes.
I have an owner whose name is Michael. I've only known him for less then a year, and I love him! He's so nice to me, and he doesn't mind when I want him to be the first one to taste a new recipe. He's also the reason I'm allowed to leave the complex. At first, I wasn't allowed to leave, but I told him how bored I was and he arranged it so that I could leave and explore the city when I had nothing else to do.
As I worked on my last document for the day, I wondered about how I ended up working here. I don't remember anything from more then about 11 months ago, when I started working here. I have these scars all over my body... Judging by them, it's probably better that I don't remember my past... I finished translating the document and sent it off for a secondary analysis. My workday was done, at only 3 PM.
I took the elevator up to the TV repair shop that served as one of our surface buildings. I stepped out and saw two agents working on a big screen TV. I greeted them and asked if the coast was clear. They nodded, and I went around to the front of the shop and left the building.
I had big plans for tonight. I was going to make Chicken Calabrese, an Italian dish. I headed to the grocery store to buy some chicken, olive oil, oregano and parsley. I had the rest of the stuff I needed already. At the store, I picked out the highest quality (and most expensive) chicken. Since I planned on cooking more Italian dishes, I bought a large bottle of olive oil, and the best oregano and parsley I could find. One of the perks of being a wetworks agent is having a limitless credit card.
Walking into a TV repair shop with several bags of groceries would seem pretty odd to any passers by, so I went around to the back to minimize my chances of being seen. I opened up the secret door and took the elevator back down into the complex.
In my quarters, I gathered the ingredients I needed. I had everything except for the tomatoes that I needed to make the sauce. For those, I went to the garden room.
Technology can be wonderful at times. My tomatoes were plump and ripe thanks to the special lamp that produced realistic sunlight, and the sprinkler system that both fed and watered my plants. This is an amazing feat, considering that my garden is a good 120 feet below the surface of the earth. I gathered a couple large tomatoes and took them back to my quarters.
The whole apartment took on a pleasant aroma as I began to cook. First I fried the chicken in my large cast iron skillet, just enough to brown it, then I sliced up some potatoes and layered them in a baking dish. The browned pieces of chicken went over the potatoes. I then seasoned the dish and put it in the oven to bake.
By the time Michael arrived, I had finished preparing the Chicken Calabrese. The dish looked pretty good, but how it tasted was more important. I nervously took my first bite... To my delight, we both ended up liking it!
After dinner, Michael put on some music. My passion is cooking; His is music, classical music to be exact. I don't know the names of the songs, but they sound good to me. We sat together and listened to the violin and piano notes.
"Remember the first time you made chicken for me?" he asked.
"Yeah. I undercooked it and we both ended up getting sick." I replied.
"You've come such a long way since then, and in such a short time. I'm proud of you." he said.
I leaned over and gave him a kiss. He kissed me back, and I felt his hands running down the back of my shirt. We both began to undress each other. He likes my body. Even though I have scars all over myself, he still likes the way I look. He too has some scars from being injured in the field, including an ugly burn scar on his leg. It comes with the job I guess...
He laid me down on the couch and ran his hands down the front of my body. I closed my eyes and let the music fill my head. My mind began to drift. I thought about my friend Carissa and her owner. Poor Dominic didn't know what he was missing. For the past few months I've been coaching Carissa on how to approach him. God knows she's willing, but he's not for some reason...
I enjoy making love. The first time me and Michael tried it, he was very reluctant. It took a lot of encouraging from me to make it happen. Now we do it almost every night that we're together. There's just something about knowing that your man may not come home tomorrow that makes you really want to be with him, every night that you can.
I felt his hands cupping my breasts. I shifted a bit to give him better access. I waited for it... then I felt him penetrating me. My moans blended in with the music. As we made love, I felt a climax building. Then it happened. It was like my brain turned itself off. I went into what I guess could be best described as a trance. The first time it happened, Michael kinda freaked out. Now however, he just stayed beside me and caressed my head.
I'm very vulnerable after I climax. If I didn't trust Michael completely, I'd be afraid love to him. When I'm in that trance, I can be made to believe anything. One time just for fun, while I was in a trance, he told me that I had a pair of rubber gloves on. When I came out of it, I saw a pair of shiny rubber gloves on my hands. They weren't really there, but I wouldn't have known that if Michael hadn't told me. Not only could I see them, I could also feel them! The imaginary gloves stayed with me until the next time we made love.
After a few minutes, I came out of my trance. I blinked a couple times, then smiled at him. The classical music was still playing. We listened to it for awhile longer, then we took a shower together. After that, we curled up next to each other in our nice soft bed. Tomorrow would arrive like it always did and bring with it more of the same, and maybe a surprise or two. One never knows exactly what tomorrow will bring...