V9S2 Nosey Neighbors...

Chapter 2: Spycraft 101

{*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}*-Simon-*-Simon-*-Simon-*-Simon-*-Simon-*{*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}

"-should always be aware of your surroundings. You have to be- otherwise you can just stumble right into a set up and be in over your head before you even know what happened. Sometimes even the most seemingly insignificant thing can turn out saving your life. An unexpected detour like for traffic or construction could be a trap. If there's officers or flaggers directing traffic be sure to take special note of them, take in any identifying markers and check if they're paying your car any particular interest.

Be sure you're staying with the rest of the traffic and even if it takes more time be sure to keep to surface streets- the last thing you want is to end up separated out or bottlenecked in somewhere. More importantly don't rely just on your cars navigation system- we are way too complacent and trusting of our devices and they are way too easily hacked.

Don't just follow blindly; look at where it's taking you, use your own judgment and your own knowledge of the area. If something seems off, that's probably because it is.

Now if that happens you need t-"

Oh good lord...how is he STILL talking?

He's making freaking international espionage and Spycraft boring...

How is that even possible?

How can someone take one of the most exciting, awesome, movie worthy type jobs on the planet and make it boring? Is it a weird Captain Boyscout superpower or something? Has he even stopped for breath? Simon doesn't think so...he's been talking for over thirty minutes (on this part of the lecture) and he didn't hear him pause for breath once.

Does the CIA teach like breathing techniques....or hire vampires so they don't have to breathe- cause that might totally fit here. Maybe this is some kind of interrogation techniques. Like psychological warfare; a way to get someone to confess or give up intel?

Gotta say if it is it's damn effective. If he had any idea what the intel he needed to give up to end this was he'd of given it up two hours ago during the second PowerPoint...the one on the different agencies, their interactions, their international counterparts and how they compare and contrast to each other. The one hour, twenty three minute and fourteen second lecture. Yes he timed it- he also converted the time to minutes and then to seconds just to escape the tedium...That's right, he was doing random mathematical conversions to escape the boredom.

Four thousand, nine hundred and ninety four seconds of his life that he's never getting back.

There were Van diagrams...

And handouts...

Seriously, was there such a thing as psychological warfare involving lectures and handouts...and possibly pop quizzes? He has the distinct feeling there is a quiz coming up on this in his near future.

Okay so this morning after his realization that his bat crap crazy dream was NOT a dream and in fact his bat crap crazy reality and that this was gonna be a thing he actually had to face really started to sink in he'd kinda balked a little...okay a lot...o-okay so he'd sat his coffee cup back down, opened the fridge, grabbed that weird neon blue bottle of unidentifiable alcohol Mags had left last New Year's and made a beeline right back to his room firmly locking the door behind him, pushing his Tardis curio cabinet over to block the door just for good measure, intent on putting off the insanity as long as possible.

Two hours, a lot of mental spiraling and one empty mystery alcohol bottle (He'd only actually been able to drink like half a glass before giving up the ghost and dumping the rest down the sink- who the hell thought cotton candy flavored liquor was a good idea anyways? Now he knows why Mags ditched it here) later he was startled out of his spiraling spy-induced panic, moping, existential crises whatever-you-want-to-call-it by a voice not an inch from his ear.