"How come you haven't seen the files yet?" the woman looked at Tristan suspiciously.

"They could have tampered with the timeline," Leon muttered. This was the third mission meeting.

"They? I thought no one could tamper with timelines except us," Tristan looked at the older agents. Something was missing. Something important.

"No one can mess with time except time travel companies," Leon corrected. The woman glared at him; he wasn't supposed to reveal that.

"José," Tristan thought, "Leon is talking about José."

But Tristan wasn't told about the company. In fact, he shouldn't know what it is. He found out about it when he was digging around, trying to learn more about his past.

"You mean some agents could have gone rogue?" he decided to play dumb.

"Yes," the agent answered fast. She answered too fast. Leon was definitely talking about José.

"687," he looked towards the woman, "Can you give me some time with 709?" Tristan gave her his signature smile.

"Yes," she seemed hesitant.

"Leon, what's going on?" he questioned once 687 was gone, "Does this mission have to do with another time traveling company?"

"801, you know your mission. Don't ask too many questions."

"Yes, right, of course."

That's why Tristan's interest was piqued when he heard one of the secretaries say José.

"Good morning, Rose."

"Tristan, good morning."

"How have you been?"

"Well, I'm going to take a vacation soon so I'm excited about that."

"Anywhere specific?"

"I'm deciding between going to the beach or visiting family."

"José, please stop running around," someone said loudly before Tristan could reply. He looked towards the voice to find a head of curly blonde hair running around the lobby.

"José seems to be giving you a hard time," he chuckled.

"Oh no, not at all," she smiled warmly at the boy, "He's precious but he's very..." she took a moment to find the right word, "Adventurous."

"Oh? Is he an employee's son?" There's no way this child had to do with Tristan's mission. But what are the chances someone with that name suddenly appeared in his workplace?

"No, he's a client's son, Mr. Becker's."

"I haven't seen other clients bringing their children."

Rose leaned over the desk, "He's very close to his father, his mother's dead," she whispered, "José has ADHD and Mr. Becker could be a very important client so we're trying to prevent any accidents."

"Very important?"

"He's getting insurance for this huge project he'll do and depending on how that goes he might become a shareholder in Kerzillion."

"He is an important client.

"Yep."

"Thanks, Rose, I've got to go now. Have a nice day."

~~~~~~~~~

"That's good for the company," Ann replied once Tristan was done telling her about Mr. Becker, "A new investor is usually a good sign."

"But you've never heard of him before?" he'd come to her thinking she's the most likely person to know about this.

"The board wouldn't inform us about that," she winced and held her stomach.

"Giving you a hard time?" he joked referring to the fetus.

"He's so feisty already," she laughed, "Anyways they might tell Dahlia about such things, but not us."

"I see, thank you, Ann," he turned around and stared at his screen. None of this made sense. Tristan always knew José was named after a person but what are the chances it had anything to do with the little blonde boy playing in the lobby?

Only then did it occur to Tristan that he didn't know the long-term, indirect effects of this mission. He knew that tampering with the files would result in the fall of a certain company. A company that hasn't been built yet. It would fall before it even rose.

"What company would be powerful enough to threaten a time traveling company?" the man thought. He'd been working for Z.E.I.T. forever. All his missions had to do with individual people or groups, never a whole company.

"Another time traveling company," Tristan insisted, "José"

A phone alarm rang somewhere. Tristan checked his watch, 4 pm; the weekly team meeting.

"Someone better leave me space on the couch," Ann muttered. Tristan held in a chuckle as he stood up and gathered his things. He snapped his suitcase close and held in a breath as he saw Dahlia.

"I'll be right there," he rushed, not looking at her. She nodded before walking to the room without a word. He'd been avoiding her during the whole week. Guilt was gnawing at him. He felt terrible. Anger and sadness consumed him whenever he saw her face. Whenever he spotted those flawlessly mismatched eyes. 

He'd finally read her files. He read about her father's death before she even finished college. About her failed marriage. About how she hasn't visited her family in 12 years. But it was neither of these that caused his eyes to water. It was also neither of these that caused a dreadful wave of hopelessness to grip his heart.

"Good evening, team," the manager's greeting filled the meeting room, "How's everyone doing?"

The meeting was torture for Tristan. He didn't understand why this bothered him so much. He could barely hold eye contact with Dahlia even though her eyes remained kind and welcoming. It was that time in the meeting when people had strayed to side topics.

"But if we're getting a new investor that's huge, right?"

"Yes, Olivia but that doesn't mean the board has to inform us."

"They must've informed you, Ms. Garcia."

"Mr. Dylan," a slight warning laced her tone.

"Come on, heichou just tell us."

"Alan," she looked at him for a brief second, "That's enough talking about irrelevant information." Tristan could hear Mary's scoff from his chair. She must've really wanted to know about this new investor. Tristan also wanted to know about Mr. Becker. The 15 months were halfway done and they're yet to start the project he was sent here to sabotage.

"A particularly large financial budget." 

As a project coordinator, he'd get to see the full budget. Soon he'd find out whether this is the awaited project.

"Tristan," a voice called softly.

"Evening, Dahlia."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" he forced himself to look up, smiling back at her.

"Is something wrong with your family?"

"No."

"Your health?"

"No."

"Work?"

"Dahlia's nothing's wrong."

Confusion clouded her features but she didn't cover it with her usual smile.

"Are you all right?" Tristan questioned.

"I am," the manager replied after some hesitation, "What for?"

"That blood Gloria found. I'm sorry I overheard the conversation but it's," Tristan took a pause trying to find the right words, "I'm just wondering if there'll be a new manager I have to get ready for."

Dahlia's facial features turned playful. She knew he was beating around the bush. "I am fine, Antonov. It really was just a nosebleed."

"Ok," he sighed, "Good."

"Are you now going to stop avoiding me?"

"I've no clue what you're speaking of Ms. Garcia," he turned around to leave.

"Running from what scares you won't solve it, Tristan. Next time something interferes with your work progress I won't wait a whole week to talk to you."