[[Why did I do this again? Oh yeah, I have writer's block for my other stories, Bloom needs some appreciation and here's some explanation for Bronev's disappearing ferret.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bloom or Bronev or his freakin' ferret.
Spoilers: For Miracle Mask regarding Bloom.
Set: After Miracle Mask but before Azran Legacy.]]
Ferret
Leonard Bloom was the type of man who followed orders to the ends of the Earth. That was the first rule that had been drummed into him since the day he'd joined Targent. You didn't refuse, didn't dare question your superiors. The Commander's word was law. Rule number two: Never expose classified information to anyone outside the agency. In one case, a grunt had been caught sharing Targent secrets with her husband... She hadn't shown up for roll call the next morning. Finally, and most importantly: Do not fail. To do so would be suicide.
Unfortunately, Bloom had failed his most recent mission. That wasn't to say Targent hadn't accomplished their overall aims; the Nautilus Chamber of Akbadain was now under their complete control. But it was the issue that Bloom had been unable to attain the Mask of Order as swiftly as Bronev would have liked.
As Bloom stood before Bronev's desk— head bowed demurely, posture composed— he pondered what his punishment would be. There would no escaping whatever grim fate his leader had planned; they were inside an Targent base packed with armed agents. Perhaps he could change Bronev's mind, convince him of his value? (Bloom was always keen at manipulating others.)
"How should I deal with you, Bloom?" Bronev wondered aloud. His expression was unreadable: he could be furious or deadly amused. From his arms, Bronev's brown ferret fixed Bloom with piercing yellow eyes. "Your actions in Monte d'Or were unsatisfactory; however, we did secure the third legacy..."
Bloom remained silent. He would not be goaded now. He would not answer back as Bronev hoped he would to do.
"I suppose you have proved loyal in the past, and you still have much potential... Tell me, what age did you join our ranks? It seems to have slipped my mind."
A direct question. Bloom had no choice but to mutter, "Sixteen." They didn't call him a 'young prodigy' for nothing. He'd flown through his training and achieved the title of Targent Spy in a few years, all the while retaining his position at Scotland Yard. Of course, that status was slight in the grand scheme of Targent.
"Thank you for reminding me. Now, for your incompetency..." Bronev smirked. (Bloom clenched his jaw.) "You will be left with the responsibility of minding my pet, Fernando."
Bloom blinked at his commander as if he'd sprouted wings. Surely this was a sadistic joke. (Though, it would be the first time Bronev had ever cracked a joke.) Any second Bronev would reveal his true punishment. Bloom spluttered, "Sir, you can't be serious—"
"Oh, I am deadly serious." Bronev suddenly surged to his feet, passing his ferret to the stupefied Bloom. The beast hissed, trying to escape Not-Master's grasp. Bloom didn't protest. This was obviously Bronev's test to humiliate Bloom just because he could.
"I have a meeting to attend now, so consider this your punishment for the time being," Bronev said as he strode towards his office door. He froze on the threshold. "But if anything happens to Fernando I won't be pleased. Am I clear, Bloom?"
"Yes...Sir."
The moment Bronev exited the room, Fernando bit Bloom's finger with its tiny razor teeth. Seething in pain and surprise, Bloom dropped the creature and it scrambled for the door. "Wait!" He dived for the ferret but it was already darting down the hall. He reached for the firearm in his coat pocket; considered shooting the damn thing dead in its tracks. However, he imagined this wouldn't go down well with Bronev at all. ("My apologises, Sir. I killed your pet to prevent it from escaping.") Instead, Bloom raced after the ferret.
There were two agents loitering at the end of the corridor, and Fernando climbed up one of their legs, burying itself inside the man's uniform. The man squirmed, screaming to his partner:
"What the hell-? SOMETHING'S TRYING TO BURROW UNDER MY SKIN! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF ME, ROOK!"
"Calm down, Bishop," Rook barked. "I can't see it unless you bloody hold still!"
Fernando popped up from Bishop's collar. "There it is!" Rook aimed a punch, only to end up hitting Bishop in the face. The wild Fernando fled.
"D-did you get it?" Bishop asked dazedly as Bloom rushed towards them.
Bloom demanded, "Have you two seen a ferret?" Rook pointed him in the direction of the hangar. (Bishop dizzily pointed in the wrong direction.) Bloom's eyes widened. "Oh, no..."
The hangar doors were wide open to receive Targent airships. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Fernando made a manic break for freedom.
"STOP THAT FERRET!" Bloom shouted. But he was too late. Fernando was out the door and gone forever.
Hyperventilating, Bloom collapsed. He gained odd stares from some pilots, but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered now. He'd failed Bronev's orders– again. Bloom curled himself into a tight ball; his calm composure shattered.
Bronev would have his head for this.
-0-
On the ride home from Monte d'Or, the Laytonmobile screeched to an abrupt halt.
"Emmy, what's wrong?" Professor Layton inquired. She'd stomped on the brakes so forcefully. Her fingers were digging into the steering wheel and her gaze was locked on the road ahead.
In the centre of the road sat a familiar brown ferret.
Noticing the animal out the window, Luke cried, "Emmy, you nearly hit that poor ferret!"
Emmy began shrilly, "Luke, don't you dare—" But the boy was already jumping out of the car to scoop up the ferret.
"Careful, Luke," Layton warned. "He looks rather... feral."
"He's not feral, just lost," Luke insisted. He regarded the ferret in concern. "Are you okay? I'm sorry Emmy nearly hit you— she's a crazy driver. What's your name...?"
"Luke, you put that thing down right now!" Emmy yelled from the safety of the vehicle.
"Ah, what did he ever do to you, Emmy— YEOW! HE JUST BIT ME! WAAAAAH!"