RC 1953 had been quite for a too long time, so it was no surprise when a blue portal popped into existence and a pair of black-robed figures stumbled out of it. One of them was a young woman with very long, very pointy ears. Her arms were clutched around the elder male's shoulders in an attempt to hold him upright in front of her. But it did not do much good. She could barely keep her balance when he fell to his knees and bent over, his hands pressed on his belly.

The front of the man's cloak was soaked in glitter, and purple stains were all over his face and beard. He coughed and heaved, like he would vomit, but his already empty stomach had nothing to give up anymore. He cringed. A wilver knife fell to the floor.

“On your knees again, Hieronymus?” asked the night elf in a mislead attempt to joke. “You know this is not necessary in front of me.” The man coughed and heaved even more. “Get up on your feet,” commanded the woman, “and out of this robes. Then wash your face and you will feel better, I promise.” Hieronymus shook his head. “Oh, well then. Let me get some facecloths and towels.”

When she returned, her partner was still on his knees, his head bent and his gaze fixated on the stained knife. “Don't look at this thing!“ shouted Androia, carefully averting her eyes as she kicked the wilver knife into the space under the console. “I told you we should not keep it. Look at me!” But when she had dropped the towels onto the console, she had to grip the male's hair and pull his head back before she could start to clean his face with a wet flannel. Hieronymus appeared to be in a catatonic state.

“You know,” said Androia, “this would be much easier if your face were less furry. Maybe I should get some scissors.” Hieronymus did not react at all. Androia looked really worried now. Deciding that, even if he did not object, removing the beard he was so proud of should only be a last resort, she continued to wipe and rub. “Next time you cut somebody's throat,” she scolded, “remember that you should not be in front of them. Although I must admit that approaching the Sue like you intended to confess your unending love was a brilliant move.”

“Don't,” croaked Hieronymus.

This was at least something. “Don't what?” asked Androia. But Hieronymus had fallen back into silence and shivering. His skin felt cold as ice, while his forehead, which she had just rubbed dry, covered with small drops of sweat. Get rid of the glitter, thought Androia, and keep him warm. She looked around frantically. Three steps to the bedroom's door behind Hieronymus' back. But the door was closed and she would not have a free hand to open it. Then there was the other possibility. Androia made a decision that appeared to be rational, shoved her hands under his axles, and pulled him up and forwards to the pile of blankets in the far corner of the RC. Having arrived, she unbuttoned his robes and, without further ado, pulled it down, just in time before she could not longer stand his weight.

Hieronymus eyes widened in alarm when he was dropped on the blankets. “But – that's your bed,” he stammered.

“There is no need to worry. It is okay for now.” Androia knelt down, pulled the topmost blanket over her partner and tried to wrap him in. “Look, we got you out of this glittering robes, and now we have to keep you warm, then you will soon feel better, I am sure. – Oh, no!” Looking down, she had suddenly realized that it would have been much better to remove Hieronymus' robes before she had dragged him to her chest. The glitter was all over her robes now as well.

Hieronymus eyes widened even more when his partner wriggled out of her robes and threw it across the room.

“There,” she said, “it is all gone. Now let us keep you warm and comfortable.” Androia laid down on the blankets, shoved one arm under her partners neck and started to caress his face with the other hand. “Now, now,” she soothed. “It will get better soon.”

“It wasn't the glitter,” moaned Hieronymus. “Nor the wilver.” And then it broke out of him. “Androia! I just murdered a girl!”

Androia sat up and looked down at the man. “This is not what happened,” she said sternly. “Mary Sue is not a person. It is a concept that needs to be eradicated. I learned this from you. Do you remember? And you did not murder it. You saved my life when it held me at wand point and was about to use the killing curse on me.”

“I know all this. But if it looks like a person, moves like a person, talks like a person –“

“If it looks too good to be real, moves faster than a whirlwind and talks everybody into oblivion – come on, Hieronymus, you have read all the reports, and you have been there. It never bothered you when you watched me doing the Duty.”

“That's true, but I still wasn't prepared for how it would feel to do it myself.” Hieronymus shuddered, but then he shoved the blankets aside and sat up. “We should clean up,” he said boldly.

Androia glanced over the heaps of glittering clothes. “No need to hurry,” she said. “Any attempt to wash this stuff would be futile. It can all go directly into the garbage chute. She looked back at Hieronymus. “Do you feel better now?”

Hieronymus nodded, standing up. “I'm okay.”

He was quite obviously lying.

“There is one thing I do not understand,” said Androia. “Why are you even here when you cannot stand the killing?”

Because you are here, and I would do everything to be with you, would have been the honest answer. “I can't tell you,” said Hieronymus instead, on his way to the console.

“Why not?”

“There's no time,” answered Hieronymus, starting to program a portal. “We'll be sooo in trouble if I don't clean up the mess I made, puking all over the Slytherin common room.”

Androia wanted to hug him. But apparently he did not want to be comforted anymore. And considering their current state, it would probably be inappropriate. “It may already be too late,” she said. “And don't you think that we should get dressed first?”

-------------

I should probably have set the precedences first, before I break them.

But you may have guessed that usually Androia does the killing.

You may also have noticed that Androia sleeps on the floor because she doesn't want to share a bedroom, let alone a bed, with her (strictly professional) partner.

I'm not sure, but don't these hurt/comfort scenes always end with sex, or at least a confession of love?

In case you wonder why Androia didn't take her partner to Medical: this is a precedent not broken yet. Androia Avatar was designed to be a one-woman-army able to go wherever she is sent to on her own. She doesn't call for help.

(The miraculous sudden healing may not be understandable without the back-story that is always hinted at, but never spelled out. In short, at this time Androia may or may still not be aware that Hieronymus is her creator and tried to snatch her out of the game for the sole purpose of seducing her. I keep this ambiguous, because I don't know when it will happen, it depends on when I find a mission where it fits. So Androia's shock therapy may be deliberate or totally innocent. Anyway, seeing his dreams come true in this unexpected and unwanted way is a greater shock for Hieronymus then whatever may have happened during the mission. Being aware that Androia would be horrified if she realized the unfortunate implications – supposing that she doesn't know exactly what she is doing there – Hieronymus just cannot let this continue. Because he cares for his partner as much as she cares for him.)

The provisional claim of RC 1953 is still pending (me asking for) Permission.

HG

Taking my Agents Kitty and Kay out for a spin. They're brother and sister, and Kay's the calm and logical one. Kitty... doesn't have much regard for rules.
Phoebe is a OC that is just popping up for fun!
---
DAY TRIP
---
“-and this,” said Kitty, throwing open the elaborately decorated door with a flourish. “is our response center. Hi, Kay!”
“Hey, Kitty,” her brother greeted, without looking up from the copy of Harry Potter he was focused on. “How many rules did you break today?”
She fidgeted a bit. “Ah, just one. Or two. Maybe. Come on in, Phoebe.”
The other girl looked strangely reluctant to enter the room. Maybe it was the odd splotches of Urple and Wilver that streaked the walls. Or maybe it was the Sue head nailed to the wall.
Kay banged his head against the page of the book. “Don’t tell me that you brought one of your friends into HQ for a tour.”
She shrugged. “Okay. I didn’t bring one of my friends into HQ for a tour. Come on, Phoebe,” she tugged at her friend’s arm. “The minis don’t bite. Much.”
“But that’s Phoebe!” Kay objected, jabbing a finger in the other girl’s direction. “I remember her! She came to your 12th birthday party! She was the one with the ice cream-”
“We don’t mention the ice cream,” Phoebe snapped, finding her voice at last, and sliding into the room. “Nice place. Apart from, you know, the body parts nailed to the wall-”
“It adds to the decor,” Kitty grinned.
There was a loud siren from outside. Everyone inside the room jumped simultaneously.
“...did you actually tell anyone you let Phoebe into the building?” Kay asked.
“I may have forgotten to mention that small fact,” Kitty admitted.
“What’s that noise?” Phoebe poked her head out the door.
“Internal Affairs,” Kitty told her, and motioned out into the hallway. “We should probably... you know, run.”
“Internal Affairs?” Phoebe screeched, allowing herself to be tugged along. “What sort of staffing do you have in this place?”
Kitty broke into a quick sprint, and Phoebe let go so she could run at a normal pace beside her. “Let me put it this way. IA usually deals with the agents who are a little too trigger happy.”
Phoebe snorted. “What sort of people do they hire here? Homicidal assassins?”
“Yes!”
They rounded a corner, and passed the open door of a Flower’s office. Phoebe stopped and stared for a moment. “Was that a flower in a business suit?”
“Flower,” corrected Kitty. “Capital ‘F’. And yes! They’re our bosses!”
“Where are we even going?”
“Don’t think about it!”
Kitty closed her eyes, and hastily slapped a hand across her friend’s forehead. She yelped in surprise.
“Recite the 12 times tables backwards!” the junior Agent ordered. “12 times 12 is 144... 12 times 11 is 132...”
Phoebe, being slightly in front, was the first of them to slam face-first into the Cafeteria door. Kitty opened her eyes and grinned. “Welcome to the Cafeteria, my dear friend!”
“That sounds weird,” Phoebe decided. “Don’t call me that. You have a Cafeteria?”
“Yeah, you don’t expect us to starve, do you?”
“Well, from what you’ve told me... hey, what’s in that fountain? It doesn’t look like water.”
Kitty pushed the doors open and dragged Phoebe through them. “Bleepka. Don’t drink it unless you want to get utterly high.”
“What’s-?”
“Bleepka? It’s bleach, mixed with aspirin, mixed with vodka.”
Phoebe frowned, remembering her chemistry classes. “But, that’s realistically impossible.”
Kitty spun around, and pointed a finger at her. “YES, I KNOW. Everyone knows that, and they don’t care. But it works. And don’t remind them that it doesn’t, ‘cause they may start trying to kill you. And we are very creative here.”
So saying, she continued her stalk down to a table, where she waved at a couple of elfin agents, and greeted a Time Lord in Old High Gallifreyan.
“Right,” she decided. “Try a hamburger. They’re wicked good. But avoid the Sue Souffles.”
She herself walked over to the counter and ordered three Canon Cookies, before swooping back to the table, and peering intently over at Phoebe. “So what do you think?”
“Of this place?”
“Yeah.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think... it’s utterly insane.”
Kitty wiggled her toes under the table. “I know! Isn’t it great?”
Phoebe looked slightly unsure. “Uh...”
Behind Kitty, a cat-woman spat up a giant hairball, then walked away, leaving the clump of hair on a table.
“And the best thing is,” Kitty continued, oblivious. “We can do whatever we want! Basically.”
“Kitty,” Phoebe said quietly. “Can I go home now?”
“Why?”
“Because I think Internal Affairs is here now.”
A crash from the doors signified the arrival of the aforementioned Action Department. Phoebe backed away slightly, but Kitty was unconcerned.
“Hello!” she waved cheerfully. “If you wanted a Canon Cookie, sorry, but you’re out of luck. Now, if you had arrived about five seconds after the cookies got to our table, then maybe you could’ve got one, but...”
Phoebe dropped her head onto the table and sighed. She was most definitely not going to join the PPC at any point in her life.

You've (probably) read missions that spork songfics. Well, here's a mission that is, itself, a songfic!
* * *
BEEEEEEEEP!

Agent Josie groaned and hugged the blankets tighter over her head. Her partner had already shut off the alarm, but the RC was now filling with guitar riffs, rising in volume. Here we go again, she thought.

Franklin ripped off her blankets in one easy motion. "♪Back in black♪" he sang, and Josie found herself already fully dressed in PPC uniform.

"♪I hit the sack♪" she tried to complain, but it came out song against her will.

"♪I've been too long; I'm glad to be back♪" Franklin began gathering equipment, so quickly he blurred a bit as he moved around the room. "♪Yes, I'm let loose♪" He found a tied coil of rope from somewhere, shrugged, and added to the rest of the weapons. "♪From the noose♪"

"♪That keeps me hanging around♪" added Josie, with a longing look at the rope.

Suddenly, they were jumping through the portal into the Word World. Looking at the clouds over Barnett College, Franklin continued the song. "♪I been looking at the sky 'cause it's getting me high♪"

Josie muttered, "♪Forget the hearse, because I'll never die. I've got nine lives—♪"

"♪Cat's eyes♪" Franklin interrupted, pointing to a woman with slit pupils and clothing that definitely did not exist in the 1930s. A crowd of students and faculty was following her wake, entranced.

The two agents sang in unison, "♪Abusing every one of them and running wild♪
* * *
Once the Sue tracked down her target in Hamilton Hall, he was awestruck by the cat-eyed woman.

In a weird, falsetto voice that didn't sound like Indiana Jones at all, he sang, "♪I can tell that you are the most beautiful girl in the—♪"

"♪Room♪" finished Franklin. The agents were listening from outside the door to Jones' office, which contained exactly two humans.

Josie snickered. "♪In the whole wide room♪" she added, earning a grin from Franklin.

Inside, the Sue glowered towards the doorway. Jones hadn't noticed anything, and continued to sing. "♪And when you're on the street♪"

"♪Depending on the street♪"

"♪I bet you are definitely♪"

"♪In the top three♪" Another round of snickering.

"♪'Cause you're so beautiful, like a . . . tree♪" The Sue raised an eyebrow at Jones.

The agents in the hallway had to cover their mouths to stop from laughing aloud at this. Jones was either fighting the Suefluence or really, really addled by it.

Franklin started to add, "♪Or a high-class prosti—♪" but Josie smacked him in the nose.

The Sue knew she heard something that time. She got up in a rage and walked to the doorway. But there was nothing there, except for a nasal voice floating down from some distant hallway: "♪You could be a . . . part . . . time . . . model♪"
* * *
Over a map of the world, a simple drawing of an airplane traveled from New York over the Atlantic Ocean to Egypt.

"Man, I love this canon's scene transitions."
* * *
The Agents followed the archaeologist and the . . . whatever the Sue was supposed to be from the Cairo International Airport to an unspecified pyramid. A hidden passage had led the two characters into and endless stream of battles with an army of mummies. (Ironically the mummies were actually canon for the continuum, but the airport shouldn't have existed prior to World War II.)

It was, perhaps, the least interesting fight scene against armies of monsters that had ever appeared in fiction. Despite the tight quarters of the passageway, endless numbers of enemies and nearly total darkness (Jones had at least brought a torch), the Sue and Jones were meeting little more effort than they would have strolling through a country park on a quiet day.

The Sue turned a corner, knocking a mummy away with one hand and pulverizing it into dust. The agents trailed behind just outside the range of Indy's torch light.

The Sue killed another five mummies with three bullets, barely looking to aim as she continued towards her destination with no map. She proclaimed, "♪We call them fools, who have to dance within the flames. Who chance the sorrow and the shame that always comes with getting burned♪"

"♪Standing outside the fire?♪" Josie questioned.

"♪Standing outside the fire♪" Franklin confirmed. Then, both agents sang together. "♪Life is not tried, it is merely survived if you stand outside the fire♪"

The Sue smiled at Indy, who followed along beside her, but smirked after she looked forward again. "♪We call them strong, those who can face this world alone, who seem to get by on their own. Those who will never take the fall♪"

Franklin shaped his hands into a vague airplane shape and raised is arms towards the ceiling. "♪Wanting to glide higher and higher♪"

"♪I can't abide standing outside the fire♪" Josie flipped open the chamber of her pistol and checked that it was loaded.
* * *
The Sue and her tag-along canon had found a . . . thing. It was in a large chamber hidden inside of a fake sarcophagus. The Sue seemed to think it was very valuable, although the agents thought it would be difficult to sell something that tried to be about seven different colors at once while its edges continuously wavered, and that may or may not have been hovering in mid-air. The agents wound up missing most of that scene due to the headaches brought on by looking at the questionable artifact for too long.

Franklin downed another smiling mouthful of Bleeprin. "♪All I know is working on drugs feels better when they're prescription! All I know is the world looks beautiful, the world looks so damn beautiful♪" He started rocking back and forth.

Josie was taking one tablet at a time, raising it to her mouth slowly, putting it inside just after swallowing the previous one. Then, she started chewing while reaching for the next one. She quietly sang, "♪Daydream. I fell asleep beneath the Flowers for a couple of hours on a beautiful dream♪"

Suddenly, their demeanors reversed. Franklin slouched against the wall and drawled out, "♪Sometimes I'd liked to slow things down. Enjoy the moment. But when I look, the moment's gone♪"

Josie jerked up and smashed a fist into the stone wall. Glancing about wildly, she sang forcefully, "♪As I spy from behind my giant robot's eyes, I keep him happy cause I might fall out if he cries. Scared of heights so I might pass out if he flies. Keep him on auto-pilot cause I can't drive♪"

But the moment passed; Josie settled back down and put her head in her hands, while Franklin began to get jittery again. "♪All I know is work is easy when you don't stress out about deadlines. All I know is to take my medicine; I always take my medicine♪"

Through her hands, Josie mumbled, "♪Daydream. I dream of you amid the Flowers for a couple of hours. Such a beautiful day.♪"
* * *
The Sue had left Jones trapped in the treasure room, and was absconding with the torch and the unnameable something, unaware that Indy had already been neuralyzed and portalled back to Barnett. She wasn't yet halfway back to the entrance when a male voice, accompanied by guitar chords, echoed out of the darkness.

"♪You got your war on science and your dusty roads. Reverse logic tricks and shadows♪"

The Sue picked up the pace, running through the hidden passage.

"♪Morbid fascination with other people's souls. Like watching cars crash, your false bravado♪"

Her running speed put out the torch, and she dropped it to clatter on the tunnel floor. It didn't matter; she had made these tunnels.

"♪You try to rewrite history, add a little mystery. You're still waiting for your time to come♪"

Left. Left. Right. Up. Down. She would be out soon. Left. Right. Wrong?

"♪You're still waiting? Oh the moment's gone.
Yeah, it's gone♪" The last line's echo faded into the background as the Sue found herself in a strange section of tunnel. The walls were all grey, and there didn't seem to be a way out, except for the shimmering blue doorway she had just run through.

Suddenly, the treasure in her hand seemed to lurch on its own. It settled down into one color, and the edges became defined—it had settled down into a simple gold coin. Still valuable, but significantly less special.

"No!" the Sue started to shriek, but her voice changed timber halfway through, sounding more like an animal's wail. She felt herself shrink down, suddenly very near the floor. If she could see her reflection in a mirror, however, she would find solace upon discovering that her eyes were still the same.

A figure appeared through the portal, a woman. She gave a simle— not a nice one. "Sorry about all the singing," she said. "My partner can't help it; he comes from Glee. As you can see, he's far enough away now that it's no longer affecting us."

She raised a pistol from behind her back. The Sue flattened her ears against her head and hissed.

"That doesn't mean I can't quote a song, of course. So how about this? 'You may hate me, but it ain't no lie. Kitty, bye, bye, bye.'"
* * *
Precedents broken:
*Missions are not songfics. (Yes, I know about Ekwy's musical, but that wasn't a mission proper.)
*doctorlit can't write a decent mission in under a year? >> Maybe?

I seriously would like feedback, not just on the story here, but on the idea itself. I don't think I've ever heard a single positive thing said in this community about songfics, not even the "rare but possible to do well" that Mary Sues get. I have a Sound of Music mission in the (long distant, eventual) works, that would be treated very similarly to this. (Though probably with more filking of lyrics, for plot reasons.)

All the songs I used here appear on the <a href="http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/PPCSoundtrack">PPC Soundtrack. I have changed and rearranged lyrics a bit to make them work in some places.

I was going to link to YouTube videos of all the songs, but I have company over now, so look them up yourselves.

PPC Precedent: The console always goes off in moments of idle contemplation and relaxation. Always. . . unless something worse could possibly happen.
Because even agents need some rest and consoles can be downright mean.

Possible relevant things to note beforehand: Lance is from the Chronicles of Amber continuum, and there's this magic thing there. It's mentioned briefly. That's it, basically.
There's likely to be some wonky sentences in here, so bewaaaaare.

----------------------------

Sentience

It was too quiet in the room, though no one seemed to notice. Its inhabitants had just arrived from a particularly nasty and ugly fic and both needed a little alone time.

The top bunk, Shri decided, was super duper excellent. She had an excellent bird's-eye view of the entire room (and of Lance sort of absently wandering around), and she was just short enough that she wouldn't bash her head against the flat, grey ceiling if she were to suddenly sit up.
So she shut her eyes and relaxed- or, at least, tried to. Something felt. . . tense. There was a sort of nigh imperceivable static in the air, the feeling of a storm roiling and coiling into range, and in this moment of nothing she was able to sense it.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and stared at the blank ceiling above her. I'll have to put up a poster or something, she thought, as she called out, "Lance?"
He grunted in response.
"Does something feel wrong to you?" She sat up to look down at him.
He paused in his pacing to glance around, dark eyes narrowed. "Yeah, actually, it does. It's been bothering me for a while. I'm glad you noticed, I thought it was just in my head, or something."

Shri slid down the ladder and put her hands on her hips, surveying the room critically. "It's almost like. . . it reminds me of the caves, everything's just kind of. . ." She made a vague sweeping gesture with her hands and Lance nodded in agreement.

"It's too quiet," he said.

Shri hummed under her breath. "That could very possibly be it." They both paused and listened. "What would we normally be hearing?" Shri murmured.
Their gaze settled on the console in the corner of the room.

It was too quiet.

"Oh no," Shri said. "Oh no oh no oh no."
Lance looked unperturbed. "I'm sure it's fine-" he began, but Shri had already strode over to it and was tapping away at the keyboard. She gave Lance a stricken sort of look, as if she'd just witnessed a traumatized puppy.
"Lance, I think it's broken."
"Shri, c'mon, it can't be broken, it's probably magic, or something, I dunno-"
"When was the last time we got back from a mission and it didn't make an exceedingly loud noise while we were relaxing? No, there's definitely something wrong with it. . . come look at it using the tendril Logrus thing or whatever, will you?"

Lance sighed heavily. He stepped over to the console and placed a hand on the screen, cautiously, as if it might bite him, before shutting his eyes and carefully feeling outwards, deep into the machine.
". . .I have no idea how that thing works," he admitted, stepping back from the console and shaking out his hand. It had pins and needles, which was slightly odd. "So I can't fix it, if it's even broken."
"Then what are we supposed to do?!" Shri said, her eyes wide and worried. "I mean, this place probably has maintenance or something, right? I think there was a section in the handbook about that, or something-"
"Shri, relax," Lance instructed, taking her by the shoulder. She fell silent. "Worse comes to worse, we just won't have missions for a bit while we figure out what's going on, right?" He grinned. "Like vacation."

She bit her lip. "Wouldn't that be dishonest?"
"Never bothered me before." Lance shrugged. Shri looked bothered.
"Well, I'm going to do something about it," she declared, turning back to the machine. He sighed.
"Suit yourself." He settled himself on the bottom bunk (he'd had enough run-ins with the ceiling and had reluctantly given up the higher bed for the sake of his skull), pulled the pillow over his eyes, and slipped into a deep doze. This wasn't difficult, considering the amount of work they'd been doing. Fixing fic will do that to a person, or demonic creature, as it may be.

Shri, meanwhile, tapped fervently on the keyboard. Her touch-typing skills, thankfully, were still up to par, as was her rudimentary coding knowledge. . . though it took ages just to locate the programming itself, and even then the programs were nothing like she'd ever seen before. It wasn't long before she rested her face in her arms (just for a second to rest her eyes, naturally) and found herself nodding off.

The room was silent a little longer. The agents rested soundly.

The approximate amount of time for an acceptable and healthy cap-nap is about twenty minutes. Twenty minutes later, an ear-rending BEEEEEEP sliced through the air.
Shri made a noise that she hoped was a yelp but was really more of a short scream and Lance jerked upwards into a sitting position, promptly smacking his forehead against a beam under the upper bunk of the bed.
Amidst the stream of cursing in many different languages, Shri picked herself up from off the floor where she had fallen and stumbled forward, squinting at the console.

A bolded "HA HA HA HA HA" was prominently displayed at the top of the screen, followed by new mission information.
And Shri found herself wondering, not for the first time, if they actually had a third sentience residing in the room with them.

------------------
A lot of dialogue and not a lot of description, so. . . I guess really short paragraphs? Whoops.

"Are you sure this is actually allowed?" Kelly asked looking at Apollo from their current position, hiding behind some of the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"No" Apollo answered bluntly as he carefully attached the Howler to his arrow. "But that's why we're both doing this, so one of us can't shift the blame entirely onto the other."
"I could of sworn the reason you gave originally was that the Charge list was too long to be read out loud and for just one howler." Kelly asked, as she too attached a howler to an arrow before carefully nocking it into her bow.
"That too." Apollo said, raising his bow up and aiming it at where the Sue would be walking along soon as she 'waited for her moonlight walk with Draco' that, as the Words on the edge of Apollo's vision said, would end up as a lot more than just a walk.
"OK," Kelly agreed, aiming her bow. "You've got the first bit of the Charge list right?"
"Mhm." Apollo affirmed, as he continued to wait for the 'Sue to appear in his sights.

It was a few minutes later that the Sue appeared in Apollo's sight, letting out a sigh he fired his arrow, a couple of seconds later hearing a similar sound as Kelly loosed her arrow towards the Sue. Thankfully the attack worked as planned, surprising the Sue before she had time to activate the 'magical elemental powars' that she supposedly had. Staying until the first Howler started screaming at the Sues body the two agents as the sound resonated throughout the Hogwarts grounds.
"That went well don't you think." Apollo said as they landed back into RC 9.81
"Not as badly as the other one we've done in Harry Potter." Kelly agreed, jumping back onto her bed for a quick nap. Not a moment later she jumped back up as the console gave off a slight tune, that the two agents now recognized as it receiving a message rather than a mission.
"What is it?" Apollo asked from his bed where he was putting a couple of new arrows into his quiver.
"It's a message from the SO." Kelly replied, "it wants to see us about the quote 'unusual ending to our last mission'"

---

Precedents:
Obviously not charging the Sue whilst it's still alive. Also (I think) using a weapon to dispose of the Sue that wouldn't canonically have been used.

Short little thing I came up with regarding a variation on an idea I've wanted to use for a while

Storme Hawk

Sandra ducked back under the tree branch and paused for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom. Her partners (if that was the word) were still where she'd left them, waiting for her report.

"The Fellowship are heading this way," she said, gesturing back towards the river. "They've finished building their pointless bridge - held together by the Sue's bra strap, if you can believe it - and they're finally ready to head up the mountain."

Excellent work, the Sunflower Official told her. And how do you intend to excise the infestation?

Sandra shrugged. "Normally, with a Tenth Walker in Hollin, I'd get Freckles to distract the canons while I read the charge list out. That's not really going to be possible here."

Correct me if I'm wrong, the Coriander said, and please don't allow me to continue in error, but surely it is the case that your partner, Alison, who you also refer to as 'Blemishes', is in fact and in truth currently residing in Medical precisely because of, and indeed due to, the plan you have just outlined, wherein she distracts the characters and keeps them from-

"Yes," Sandra said, then swallowed. "Ma'am. But the point is, I can't exactly send you out there to-"

Whyever not? the SO asked. I'm quite certain I could provide an adequate distraction.

Sandra resisted the urge to scream, Because the whole reason you're following me around is because you don't know what it's like out here anymore! Instead, she took a deep breath, met the Sunflower's gaze - insofar as that were possible - and said, "Because if I get you killed, I would be out of a job. Sir."

Not at all, the Sunflower demurred, waving a leaf. The Queen Anne's Lace would be delighted to have you back, I'm sure.

Sandra gritted her teeth. The Flower had been antagonising her ever since he and the Coriander showed up in her RC, claiming that they needed to 'observe agent operating methods in the field, to determine what, if anything, need be changed'. She wasn't entirely sure it was deliberate, but on the other hand, she wasn't inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

If I might interject with an interruption, the Coriander said, her tone thoughtful, would I be correct in thinking, and voicing my conclusion, that this chapter is the final, ultimate, or last chapter of the story in which we are currently situated?

"... currently situated," Sandra mumbled, trying to parse the question. "Uh... yes, ma'am, it's the last chapter."

As I deduced, or perhaps recalled. The Coriander spread out her leaves, angling them towards the Words. And would it be both accurate and correct if I were to state my belief that the current time, being the portion of the story or badfic in which we are waiting, is in fact close to the final line and end of both chapter and scene, which could be said to be imminent, or indeed upon us?

"... come again?"

The Coriander shook herself irritably. To the Hole with this, she growled. Agent Cassandra: the story is almost over. Do you have time to do the Duty?

Sandra frowned and looked up at the Words. Her eyes widened. "You could have said something!"

I did, in fact-

"No time!" Grabbing her bow from where it lay, Sandra ran back through the trees, not heeding the branches that snagged at her hair and jacket. "Not gonna have time to charge her," she panted, leaping over a rock. "Come on, come on..."

She reached the bluff overlooking the old road and skidded to a halt, already nocking an arrow to her bow. She took a crucial second to aim at the distant Sue, loosed-

Laurel smiled as she watched Aragorn stride ahead of the Fellowship. This was going to be a grand adventure.

-and the arrow splintered in mid-air as if striking an invisible wall. Sandra let out an inarticulate cry and fired a second shot, with no better result.

I did try to warn you.

Sandra whirled on the Coriander, tears running down her face. "You could have said something sooner!" she yelled. "You could have stopped using that stupid redundancy!"

Some of us have reputations to maintain, the Flower said, and waved a leaf towards the departing Fellowship. This is only one story out of millions, child. The true Fellowship will barely notice your miserable failure.

Sandra glared at her. "And what about me? Will I barely notice?"

You will probably become exceptionally depressed and have to be admitted to FicPsych, the Sunflower Official said, emerging from the forest. I will, of course, find this course of events extremely troubling. Shall we return to HQ so you can get started?

---

Precedents:
-Flowers do not go on missions.
-Agents always succeed at their mission.
-Talking is a free action.

And I think it was JulyFlame who originally suggested sending the SO on a mission, several years ago; thanks for the idea.

hS