Subject: Jacques missions Partially Kissed Hero w Different Partners!
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Posted on: 2018-09-04 05:41:00 UTC

A/n: What it says on the tin! I had a ton of fun with this one, guys. Hope you love it! Remember to leave me lots and lots and lots of comments **blows kisses**

obvs I don't own any of this its the ppc I'm just playing with it~ pls dont sue! Or Sue :P

PS: all the chapters they go into are from Partially Kissed hero by Lionheart and they're read. I can't make this stuff up!! Each piece is a different chapter. Enjoy!!! r&r? :)

The Many Partners of Jacques Bonnefoy (for the Legendary mission we know is coming!!)

Of all things, Jacques Bonnefoy thought, the last one he’d expected when taking this mission was to come face to face with the Queen of England.

“Ma’am,” he greeted. He was almost surprised when her response didn’t include the name ‘Captain Harkness’—but then, this wasn’t exactly his world, was it?

“Are you, perhaps, from the Queen of Wonderland?”

Jacques made a face. “No, ma’am. Uh—consider me…well, I’m a British citizen. I think. I—”

“Duck,” one of his partners advised him. He did so, and the story took over.

“I really don’t like this,” muttered the third of their number. He was noticeably Welsh, male, and young, in his early twenties. “Are you sure we should be right here?”

“Come on—you don’t want to see this mess for yourself?” The man who’d told Jacques to duck slung an arm around the Welshman’s shoulders. His accent was the slightly odd offspring of Received Pronunciation and Welsh with hints of Scottish poking through; he was also in his early twenties.

He also looked very much like Jacques, if only Jacques had still looked twenty-four himself and had grown his hair out a bit. Jacques had found out far earlier on in the mission that he was actually French; he’d first looked appalled and then laughed himself breathless when Jacques had switched to French with their prompting.

The Welsh-accented man, meanwhile, shook his head. “Not especially. Why do you?”

His friend shrugged. “Well, I’ve never seen it before…”

With a sigh, the Welshman turned to Jacques. “He’s always like this, you know.”

Jacques raised his eyebrows. “Did you want me to do something about it, Ianto? You’ve known him longer; I’m just his non-wizarding counterpart from another Headquarters.”

Ianto opened his mouth…

*

Jacques opened his eyes, confused. What had he…? Why had he…?

“Finally,” said his temporary partner. His name was Derik; apart from the heavy scarring on one side of his face, he was incredibly handsome. He was also just about the straightest guy Jacques had ever met, which was a complete and utter shame. “What happened to you not needing much sleep?”

“Time distortion,” Jacques said. “It’s weird, but true.” He stretched. “How long was I out?”

Derik raised his hands expressively. “You’re really overestimating my ability to tell time in this mess.”

“True,” Jacques said. “Well, let’s get moving, anyway. What’s up next?”

“Something to do with Hermione, loyalty, and…Stonehenge? Harry carrying a hospital’s worth of potions? I just skimmed it.”

Jacques made a face, and offered Derik a hand up. Derik stood up on his own—really, really straight, Jacques reflected.

“Well, then—let’s get going…”

*

“Mmph!” Luxury stumbled. Jacques caught her—easy enough to do, given she’d already been well on her way to pressed up against him. “What was that?”

Jacques tore his attention away to check the Words. “Uh—oh, wow. Treelawney just went thirty years into the past. Welcome to…what is it, 1963?”

“Eh, whatever,” Luxury declared. She pouted at him. “Are you sure we can’t lose the robes?”

“…actually,” Jacques said, once he’d had another quick look at the Words, “we can.” Luxury gave a gleeful whoop and pulled away to yank hers over her head. “But we do have to keep Muggle clothes on.”

Luxury narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jacques shook his head. “Believe me, I wish I was. But at least it’s fewer layers…”

Luxury pouted, and stuck her hands up his shirt the moment it was accessible.

*

“Not even a little?” Jacques asked. “Really?”

Agent Supernumerary folded his arms. “Really. Not even a little.”

Jacques sighed. “This would happen. You’re the hottest person I’ve seen all day, and you go and turn out to be straight.” He paused. “I really, truly, seriously can’t tempt you? I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

“And now you’re mocking me,” Nume informed him, and turned away.

“No, no no no,” Jacques protested. “Not in the slightest. Haven’t you ever looked in a mirror?”

Nume went deadpan. “No.”

Jacques groaned. “And you’re sarcastic.” He sighed. “We’re really going to have to sit through Harry’s dragon abuse with no distractions, aren’t we.”

Nume looked suddenly horrified. “No distractions? No! Definitely not. I can’t take that. We’ll just have to—”

Jacques raised his eyebrows. “Yes?” he prompted, trying not to look quite as excited and hopeful as he felt.

“Read books like the agents of the PPC that we are,” Nume finished dryly. He pulled out Les Miserables and began to read, completely ignoring Jacques.

“Right,” Jacques said, “of course. Nice.” He lay back, wishing he’d thought to bring a more interesting book along…

*

“But how can you be straight?” Jacques demanded. It was a fair question, given he was staring himself in the face.

The other Jacques shrugged. “Same way you can be…what are you, again?”

“Omnisexual!”

The other Jacques raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Is that even a thing?”

Jacques groaned and put his head in his hands.

In the background, Treelawney-via-narration was explaining a complicated, unnecessary, and frankly despicable plan which resulted, of course, in Harry turning out to be even more fit (and trained as a child by Bruce Lee)…

*

Jacques raised his eyebrows. “And who are you supposed to be?”

The striking…well, he thought her hair was brown, but it also seemed kind of golden—the young woman, anyway, looked rather offended. “But of course you know who I am!”

Jacques crossed his arms. “I really don’t.”

“But everyone knows me!”

Jacques smiled. “Tell you what—why don’t you introduce yourself, and then I’ll know too!”

The woman pouted, and then shook back her hair. A safe distance away, Harry, Hermione, and Luna lectured on about werewolves and the Ministry’s treatment of them. “My name is Jaycacia Thornbyrd.”

Jacques’ smile gained dimples. “Charmed, I’m sure.” He offered his hand; when she placed hers in it, he brought it to his lips. “I’m Agent Jacques Bonnefoy—but you—”

“Already know, yes.” Jaycacia looked only a little mollified, but she giggled when he kissed her hand again. “Oh, I can’t stay mad at you!” She batted very long eyelashes at him. “I just love your eyes.”

Jacques took a step closer, and then another. To his delight, she let him place her hand over his heart. “And I love y—” He froze.

Jaycacia frowned, and caressed his face with her free hand. “Jacques? What is it?”

Jacques yanked her hands away from him and took several large steps back. “Oh, no. No, no, no—I’m not doing this, I’m not—go back wherever you came from! I’ve already done my time in love with a Sue, I’m never going back—”

Jaycacia’s beautiful eyes filled with tears. “But I love you!”

No!” Jacques insisted. “Get lost!”

He portalled her away before she could finish opening her mouth. Then, with the badfic almost completely forgotten, he set off to find a drink.

*

Gall was weirdly perfect, Jacques reflected. Oh, not in a bad way—not at all a Sue way. Not her. But she was…

Well, amazing, really.

“Come on!” she was exclaiming now. She’d looped her arm through his and was…well, the only reason she wasn’t pulling him along was that he was keeping pace. Rather easily, actually, given his legs were longer. “This may be the stupidest badfic I’ve ever missioned, but at least the breakfasts are good.”

Privately, Jacques didn’t fancy their chances—it was a badfic, after all—but out loud he said only, “And why are we going to need breakfast so urgently, Ms. Knutson?”

She punched him in the arm, and he fell the slightest bit in love. “It’s just Gall. And why wouldn’t we need breakfast?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Jacques said. He casually drew closer as they walked; she didn’t move away. “I can think of some great ways to spend the energy we get from it, though…”

Gall gave him a calculating sidelong look from her light blue eyes. “You know what?”

Jacques smiled. “What?”

Gall smirked. “It’s a good thing my partner’s not here. He can ruin a mood in seconds.”

Jacques grinned, and ignored the narration’s babbling about Harry’s new and calculated interest in things like ‘charming his own cheese’—which wasn’t even a euphemism. “So there’s a mood here, huh? Well, we’ll just have to make the most of it…”

--
((I'd be completely open to writing a sequel/second part, with enough inspiration. I know this somehow got skewed pretty heavily towards Neshomeh's characters--it just kind of happened.

Got someone else you'd like to see tackle Partially Kissed Hero with Jacques? Let me know! With luck (and any interest), I'll put them in a second part. ~Z))

(((Also, I had never considered Jacques/Gall. Turns out, I actually like the idea quite a bit! Who knew? Wonder how a meeting between them would go with her written properly in character, though, seeing as I went for the good old badfic games standby of 'aim for recognizable but don't worry too much'...)))

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