#theres the sequence of scenes of his conversations with the other agents

[nancywheelxr]

oh no, Brainy accidentally finding the Gossip Spreadsheet

I will stand by the headcanon that while Brainy would find it weird and stupid and kind of creepy, he would absolutely use the opportunity to mess with them. It’s too good a chance to pass up.

He finds it by accident.

No, really. The search had been meant to be a simple scan of their systems, checking for any bugs or breaches on the firewall, along with the usual red alerts.

It suffices to say, the spreadsheet– it raises a couple of flags.

The Days of Our Lives is the title of the document, and Querl couldn’t figure out what it could possibly be about in a workplace environment. The only match in all the internet is with one of those so-called soap operas Imra had become strangely addicted to in her time here.

But that would make no sense.

So, for the safety of the country, it’s his duty to open it.

The first tab is named The Directors and it seems to be mainly about J’onn and Alex. Or rather, the ongoing bet if J’onn had legally adopted her or not and if he had become a vegan, tofu-maker hippie or not. Their reasons to think so seem to revolve around an incident when Alex had called J’onn Dad by mistake a few years ago and the rumor he would have been the one to walk her down the aisle on her wedding if it had happened. On the hippie instance, there are a lot of reasons listed, since his banning of lethal weapons to his resigning.

The second tab is named Supergirl and while the few debates on her true identity would be worrying, they are all so far off, he can’t bring himself to be concerned. Whoever she is, Cat Grant is apparently in the lead. Lena Luthor in a wig, tall girl from the cafeteria, and Russian spy are the runner-ups. Under that, they debate if Supergirl wears a wig or not– there are some good points, he has to admit. It almost makes him wonder.

The third tab is named Agent Dox if that’s even really his name and his interest is piqued. There are several points, but the main thing seemed to be trying to convince each other Querl is an alien. One of them remember the instance when he flew off to help Supergirl, but someone else argues it could have been some sort of experimental tech since it was an isolated incident. Another agent brings up the fact no one seems to remember exactly when he started in the DEO and how he works strangely well with the computers. The list goes on and on, with topics in favor and against the theory, and once again, it would be concerning if they weren’t blowing things so out of proportion– as it is, they sound too delusional to be taken seriously.

There’s a fourth tab named it’s like an ep of the freaking bachelor and Querl nearly laughs out loud when he reads the contents. Here, everyone seems to be weirdly invested in everyone else’s social life. More specifically, their relationships. It goes back all the way from even before Supergirl, but now? All they seem to be debating is the contents of the letter Winn’s left him. And since when he is friends with Supergirl.

At first, Querl is admittedly worried about the whole thing, and a little creeped out, but then again, humans are known to find speculating about the lives of their peers quite entertaining. And what else would be expected when you have a significantly large group of people that cannot talk about their jobs outside their workplace? They would certainly need an outlet and this at least is in no danger of breaching security.

That being said, while Querl doesn’t appreciate having his own personal life dissected like this, or especially because of his discomfort, he figures he’s allowed to have some fun with it too.

*

“Hey, man,” an agent, Richards, if he’s not mistaken, approaches him, trying to take a look at what he’s writing. “Whatcha doing?”

Querl looks up, hands artfully covering the paper. “Writing a letter. A solar flare is supposed to hit Earth in the next couple of hours and I need to send this before then if I do not want to wait another two weeks.”

Richards’s eyebrows raise. “A letter? To who?”

“To whom,” he corrects, “and the answer is to Winn. We have been keeping in touch.”

“No kidding?” Richards crows, endlessly delighted. “You guys still talk? Even with the whole Back to the Future situation?”

“Of course.”

“That’s– oh, man, okay, look I’ve gotta go, but nice talking to you, dude.” He leaves in a rush, furiously typing on his phone.

Querl bites back a grin.

“Is this really true?” Alex asks, coming to stand beside him.

“Oh, no, of course not. It would be virtually impossible,” he says, showing her the paper he had been writing in, “this is the photosynthesis equation.”

*

“So,” Agent Cruz says, drumming her fingers in the table while they wait for the computers to finish scanning the city, “any plans for the weekend?”

Querl pauses his own search for the alien DNA to glance at her, “yes, actually. Supergirl has mentioned there is a Bon Jovi concert in a nearby city, and since Mon-El has always talked highly of his skills, we have decided to attend.”

She gapes at him, eyes wide and awed. “You’re going to a concert with Supergirl?”

“Yes, that is correct,” he amends, “it was either that or another movie night.”

“Oh, that’s– you know what? I think I’m going to take my break now, you sure you can keep an eye on the scans?”

“It should not be a problem.”

Agent Cruz scurries away, cursing under her breath and nearly running into Alex, who leans against the consoles, frowning at the scene, “everything okay?”

“Yes,” Querl shrugs, grinning, “I was merely talking about the Bon Jovi concert.”

“Righ, about that– I’m thinking we should all meet at my place around noon? James is bringing snacks for the trip and I want to make sure it will all fit in the cars.”

*

“You know, I grew up in a small town,” Agent Jackson comments, watching the technicians install the new equipment, “never thought I’d see shit like this.”

Querl makes a noise of agreement, distracted.

“Aliens, spaceships, satellites,” he continues, “sounded a whole lot like science fiction back then. What about you? You used to this stuff?”

“Indeed,” Querl briefly looks away from his inspection, “where I came from alien life forms have been widely known for a long time. And technology has always been intrinsical to our daily life.”

“Is that so? Sounds like a bunch of smart people, then,” Jackson eyes him with interest, “does this place have a name?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know it. We keep mostly to ourselves,” at least in this century. “Now, if you excuse me, I am busy supervising this installation.”

Agent Jackson apologizes heartily, then walks away, missing the snort Querl can’t stop from leaving his lips.

*

“You are doing this on purpose,” Alex narrows her eyes, hands on her waist, as she watches another agent stumble away, phone in hand. “You know they’re talking and you’re messing with them, aren’t you?”

“Are you implying I’m purposefully fueling their rumors while not confirming nor denying anything?” Querl asks, hands folded calmly behind his back.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Then, yes, for the past five weeks.”

Alex sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I thought the shenanigans would stop,” she fixes him with a hard look, “Agent Carter stopped me in the hall the other day to ask if you and Supergirl had eloped last week. The week before that, it was to ask whether or not you had an identical twin working on Black Ops.”

“I haven’t heard that one before,” he says, impressed. Querl had genuinely thought he had been aware of all the rumors floating around by now. “But in my defense, the more outlandish these rumors are, the less likely it is for Colonel Haley or any other superior officer to believe them.”

She shakes her head, struggling to keep a straight face, “they do sound like tin-foil-hat conspiracies.” Alex snorts, points a finger at him, “but if they get out of hand, you’re fixing it.”

“In 98.67 % of my simulations, it never becomes a problem,” Querl tells her, running the numbers once again, “but in the unlikely event it does, I will take full responsibility.”

“That’s good enough for me,” she shrugs, already turning to leave.

“Director,” he calls, “if I may– what did you tell Agent Carter?”

“Well,” Alex grins, “I think my exact words were wouldn’t you like to know?”