While it was an honest mistake, I still feel really guilty about my part in that whole debacle...

...The PPC is also pretty old too, isn't it?

"Dafydd?"

"Yes Connie?"

"Why do we have a giant robot in the back garden?"

Dafydd arched an eyebrow (which was totally wasted on the computer in front of him). "I got it on that mission; remember?"

There was silence from the other room, and then Constance, in her I'm-being-patient-so-I-don't-hit-you voice, said, "Obviously I don't remember, or I wouldn't have asked."

"Huh?" Dafydd turned in his chair to frown at the door. "The big mission they pulled me out of retirement for. 'Go Go Canon Rangers' and all that?"

"... that never happened."

"Er, yes it did?" Dafydd glanced back at the computer, as if it might offer him some guidance. "I mean, why else would I have a giant robot?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Constance said, through what sounded like gritted teeth. "And you're not helping."

"But it- you- come on, you must remember, we read the mission report together afterwards." The elf span back to the computer, tabbed through the filing system to his PPC folder, and sorted the reports by date.

None of them were newer than 2006. The eyebrow went up again.

"Tanfin!" Dafydd called. "Have you been mucking about with my files?"

"Uh, no, Dad," came the much-too-sassy voice of Dafydd's eldest son. "Why would I?"

"He did!" That was Oleander, six years old and a mortal terror when it came to dobbing in his siblings, truthfully or otherwise. "I saw him! He was mucking!"

"I wasn't!" Tanfin protested. "Dad, I wasn't!"

Dafydd rolled his eyes. "Right, well... don't!" He closed the folder and loaded up the ICEP interface Narto and Lou had cobbled together for him. "Let's just get hold of another copy," he muttered, typing in an address and firing off a quick message.

The computer whirred, and then bipped. [User not found], it reported in small, neat letters.

Dafydd rolled his eyes. "You'd think they'd have a forwarding system set up for retired agents," he said to the empty room. "What was her partner's name again...? Oh, right."

Bip. [User not found. Did you mean to type: The Librarian {[0.4342944819.console.192.168.2.1.External]}? NOTE: Agent The Librarian is <deceased/insane/retired> and cannot be contacted.]

Dafydd stared at the screen, then reached out and shut it off. Getting to his feet, he walked to the window and stared out at the gigantic, phoenix-shaped robot lurking at the bottom of their garden.

There was a soft sound of footsteps, and then Constance draped her arm across his shoulder. "It's okay if you can't remember," she said, mock-soothing. "Old age gets to us all eventually, and you are quite ancient, Maglor my dear."

"No," Dafydd murmured, his eyes still fixed on the towering Zord. "I remember. Even if nobody else in the multiverse does... I remember."

---

You can take Dafydd's giant robot over his cold dead body, and historically, getting him to stay that way has been a tricky proposition.

hS

As for the badfic, we can always just, y'know, pretend it doesn't exist. We don't have to glorify it by celebrating its anniversary, or even acknowledging it at all. That's always an option. Crazy, I know, but someone had to say it. {= P

~Neshomeh