Numberblocks - Filling the Gaps
This is just a silly little fanfic I made out of boredom, which was totally worth staying up late!!
Imagine the characters here as humanized, it’ll make more sense
Extra info will be all the way at the bottom if you’re wondering a few things!
I’ll be honest, @13-the-lucky-unlucky was a major inspiration, their work is amazing <3
Twenty stepped from his office with a sigh, stretching his arms wide. "Another pile emptied. That woman really knows how to keep us busy."
He adjusted his bow tie and made his way to the MI-15's corridor.
Despite all of the paperwork and intense thinking, life as an agent wasn’t all too bad.
He liked the secret missions, the thrill of the chase, and if it wasn’t a busy day, it was nice hanging with the larger Numberblocks, which he probably wouldn’t have done otherwise.
His gaze then flew down the hall, landing on Forty-Five waving goodbye to Thirty-Six’s open office door. She turned, with no apparent urgency to get out of this place.
Twenty slowed down, and eventually came to a stop. It just hit him.
It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to clock out early, but he never actually stopped to talk to her. He admired how mature she was from afar, sure, but that was about it. They’d give each other a polite nod in the elevator and go their separate ways until another day came around. Perhaps he was missing out on a new friend, and never noticed?
Twenty’s thoughts wanted. Should he tell her something? What would he even say? Compliment her for her hard work? Ask her about her day? He made a low hum, lifting and pressing down his feet from left to right on the polished floor.
By the time he finished overthinking, Forty-Five was already standing before the opening elevator doors, and he realized he hadn’t moved an inch.
…
Sure, he could take the next ride, but where’s the fun in that?
He darted forward, his polished shoes clicking against the floor with anxious haste, which wasn’t like him at all.
“Wait!” The word burst from Twenty’s mouth before he could stop it, and echoed a bit too loudly in the quiet hall.
Seriously? Was that the best he could do?
Forty-Five paused, one foot hovering above the elevator threshold, and turned. Her eyes widened slightly at Twenty's sudden approach. "Twenty? Is everything alright?" Her voice was shrill, but still
rather sweet.
Twenty skidded to a halt right in front of
her, catching his breath. "No! I mean, yes! Everything's fine." He straightened his top hat, cheeks warming. "I just... didn't want to miss this ride." The excuse sounded flimsy, even to him. No, *especially* to him.
Forty-Five tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips as she stepped inside. Twenty followed, the elevator doors sliding shut with a soft hiss. Silence settled between them, thick and awkward, as the car began its smooth ascent.
“…Why didn’t you just wait for the next one?” Forty-Five asked softly, her eyes focused on the floor numbers.
“I… well… thought it wouldn’t be as fun riding alone,” Twenty admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He caught Forty-Five’s quiet chuckle and felt his nerves ease just a fraction.
“Fair enough.”
…
“You know— I’ve been meaning to ask,” Forty-Five started. She turned to face Twenty, her expression thoughtful. “How do you manage to finish your work so early? I see you leave almost always the same time as I do.”
Twenty blinked, caught off guard by the question. He expected small talk about the weather or some random mission detail, not this. "Oh! Well, I guess I just... focus?" He shrugged, tapping his foot lightly against the elevator floor. "Break it into chunks. Learn the steps one by one, then it all flows." He paused, realizing how rehearsed that sounded.
"Though— uh.. honestly? Sometimes I rush through the last few bits just to get out of that chair,” he mumbled sheepishly under his breath, his gaze turned down, “but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secret’s safe,” Forty-Five whispered, her smile widening. “I do the same, actually. I can only be away from my bed for so long.”
“Tell me about it,” Twenty chuckled, leaning against the cool metal wall. “And as for you? What’s your trick?”
“Music. It makes me zone out,” Forty-Five admitted as the elevator came to a halt and dinged. “I put on my headphones and five seconds later, I’m caught up.”
Finally, there’s a way to keep this conversation going.
Twenty’s eyes light up as he steps out of the elevator beside Forty-Five, into the slightly disorganized backstage of the talent show.
"Music? What kind?" he asks eagerly, dodging around a stray prop while keeping his eyes on her.
She was hoping he wouldn’t ask that question.
“Oh— you don’t want to know,” Forty-Five stammered and looked away, her cheeks flushing as she wove past a towering stack of glittering hoops.
“Of course I do, that’s why I asked. Is it jazz? Classical? Something with a beat?”
Forty-Five hesitated near the exit door. She murmured something under her breath, which Twenty struggled to catch.
“What was that, now? Didn’t quite catch it.”
“…J-Pop.” Forty-Five repeated, struggling to meet Twenty’s gaze.
Twenty blinked. "J-Pop?" He tilted his head, genuinely curious. "Like those idols and bubblegum beats?" He snickered with a wide grin.
“Well— Don’t laugh! You said you wanted to know.” Forty-Five’s blush deepened as she pushed open the exit door. The cool evening air hit them both, carrying the scent of rain-soaked grass.
“No, no, I’m not laughing!” Twenty held up his hands, though his grin softened into genuine warmth. “I just never pictured you as the type.” He matched her stride across the damp pavement, puddles reflecting the amber glow of the streetlights. “Why that of all genres?”
Forty-Five’s hand tightened around the strap of her messenger bag. “It makes me feel hopeful. Work’s kind of lonely.” She kept her gaze on the path ahead. “..But those songs—they’re bright and comforting.”
Twenty, being as extroverted as he was, didn't understand loneliness the way Forty-Five did. He never spent an entire night staring at the ceiling, wishing for company he knew would never arrive. But he understood music—how it could fill a room the way a friend could.
"Yeah," he murmured, his thumb over his own palm. "Music fills the gaps nicely." He paused for a moment, then added,
"Though... company's much better."
“Of course you’d know that. I’m sure you get plenty of company.”
“And you don’t?”
“It’s.. not all that common for Numberblocks like us.”
Twenty blinked, confused. "What do yo—" Then he remembered. "Oh," he breathed, the word soft in the damp air. "I just figured... I'm sorry." His steps slowed beside her.
“No, no— It isn’t your fault,” Forty-Five reassured him quickly, her voice softening as she glanced at Twenty’s concerned expression. “It’s just something we have to live with.”
They walked in silence under dark clouds, until Twenty suddenly stepped ahead, turning to face her, his expression earnest.
“Well, you shouldn’t have to search so hard for some good company,” he declared, his voice firm yet supportive. “Not when I’m right here.” He extended a hand, palm open.
“Come on. How about a walk home?”
A gentleman was hard for her to resist.
Forty-Five’s fingers trembled slightly before she slid her palm against his, the warmth of his touch chasing away the evening chill. "Alright then. I can’t say no to that look, after all," she whispered, a shy smile touching her lips.
“Good.”
Twenty grinned, his fingers closing gently around hers. They walked side by side down the quiet sidewalk, their footsteps echoing softly on wet pavement. Forty-Five kept her gaze lowered, acutely aware of his thumb brushing her knuckle.
Twenty glanced at her, the dim atmosphere not blocking his view of her whatsoever. “So,” he began, his tone light, curious, “favorite idol group?”
Forty-Five groaned and rolled her eyes, though deep down she was pleased that someone cared.
“You’re never letting that, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
In case anyone asks…
“Why 20 and 45?” Personally I hc them as the 2 of the most mature agents in MI-15 (Minus 26 and 15) and I think their dynamic would be pretty fascinating
“Why J-Pop?” PROJECTION!! :D Also I wanted something niche
“What did 45 mean when talking about Numberblocks like her?” I believe that the bigger numberblocks generally lack attention and company compared to numbers from 1-20 and wanted to reflect that here
