Subject: The Surprise Present
Posted on: 2018-02-28 02:03:00 UTC
She walked up to the man slowly as he stood by the dressing table. He was barely more than a boy, really, but muscular in a lean kind of way, a swimmer's build. He had sleek dark hair and piercing silver eyes, gazing out from behind some fashionable - and, she knew, highly advanced - thick-rimmed black spectacles. He was wearing an excellently tailored suit that fit him very well indeed, emphasising his physique and teaming well with the long Japanese sword he wore at his waist. Everyone assumed it was an affectation, right up until he killed them with it, like he had that commoner during training.
"Agent Morgan," she said, cutting the primness with just a little suggestiveness - it was how he liked to be addressed.
"Well, hey there, Roxy." He turned and smiled, gleaming, white, perfect. "And I told you already, you don't need to call me what that meddling old coot Arthur does. The special people in my life call me Bandit, and the people I love?" He walked closer, running his hand over her back. "Well, they get to call me Storm."
"Yes - Storm - of, of course." The blonde shivered at Storm's touch, but then, so many women did. "I... I just came by to give you this." She held up a small box.
"Aw, thank you, Roxy! What's the occasion?" Storm was already unwrapping the box's sober navy paper and white ribbon and plucking out the bottle of aftershave.
"Just the occasion of us being... us, I suppose," she replied. "Or you being you."
"Heh, guess all that world-savin' is paying off a li'l, huh?" He smiled again, sleek and white and evenly spaced as a military cemetery. "Man, and here I was thinking I'd get British girls just with the accent." He quirked an eyebrow.
She blushed a little and giggled. "It helps, Morg- Storm. It certainly helps."
"Yeah?" Storm put the present down on his dresser and moved towards her. "Is it helpin' now, Roxy?"
"Yes and no," she said, smiling. "Yes, because I like an accent, and no because, well..." She stood up, tossed her hair back, and changed.
"Storm Valerian Gunner," said the short, mousy-haired brunette in front of him, "also known as Agent Morgan, also known as Callsign: Bandit, you are charged with bending the Kingsman canon into an n-dimensional pretzel, killing the series main character to take his place, being an American Kingsman agent, being a secret ninja lord Kingsman agent, getting all blood in my hair from when you decapitated all those people, turning Roxy Morton into a quivering damsel to be rescued and bonked by you, taking Merlin's job despite being a field agent and also impossibly dense, getting blood in my hair do you know how long it takes to wash that stuff out, and generally being a Gary Stu of the first order. Not the First Order first order, because this isn't a Star Wars crossover, thank God, but still. Your sentence is death. Any last words?"
"What?" Storm unsheathed his sword and brandished it at her. "Who are you, and what did you do with Roxy."
"Those'll do me," said Cassie Aubrey, and she sped out the room and slammed the door shut behind her.
Her partner sidled over as the Stu began hacking at the door with his katana. "Damn, girl, that stunt took some hella balls!"
"I mean, there's balls, and then there's balls, ya dig?"
"Because I totally get that you're not into them but hot damn, Cass, those are some huevos muchachos ya got-"
"Whuh?" Three inches of sword blade appeared by Em's right shoulder. "Oh, yeah. Whoops!" She fumbled through her bag and pressed the button. Three beeps and a horrible ker-splutch later, the execution was complete. The agents walked down the stairs as the uncanonical room disappeared behind them, and they left the Kingsman tailors' shop soon after, another well-dressed couple on a day out in London.
"You know, we've got the run of the city for a bit - the real city, not the Stu's version with all terrorists in it," said Cassie. "Fancy lunch? I know this fantastic little pizza place in Euston-"
"You had me at lunch, hun. Girl's gotta eat!" Em ruffled her partner's hair and didn't stop, loving the feel of the soft, brown curls against her fingertips.
"I will too, Em. I did promise."
"Yes you did."
And arm in arm, they walked away.