A/N - Dooo youuu likeee?

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Except probably Jade and Chopsticks.


chapter one

Jade & Chopsticks

A punch.

A crack.

A wince.

Agent Poisson flinched at the fight between what seemed to be two little girls.

One was little and the other…was also little.

So maybe they were both little, shoot her.

One had green hair and the other had turquoise hair. There now, at least she could tell which was which.

Basically, they were like, tiny. About five feet tall. They had scary voices.

One shrieked, "Stewie is awesome!" Strangle.

The other screamed back, "So are cookies!" Slap.

"You wouldn't say that if you made cookies nonstop for three days!" Punch.

"Why would I make cookies nonstop for three days?" Blink.

"…uh," Turquoise frowned. "You wouldn't. Hm. That seems to be a problem."

"Oh well," they hugged each other and skipped off.

Agent Poisson's eyes bugged out at that last bit. She had been sent to break up a supposed fight between two "delinquents" outside some Spanish clothing store on Oxford Street. Fight? Delinquents? The two kids had been arguing about cookies, for god's sake. Still, according to a passerby, they had been "fighting" for the past two hours.

Fights did not usually end with hugs and skipping.

Sighing, Agent Poisson shuffled off to get a coffee, weary, tired, bored.

She was weary because she hated her job like Yahoo! hated Google. She was sick and tired of the filing, bored to death of the office work. Sometimes she even wanted to die.

Poisson had actually originally trained to be a CID. Her parents had both been lawyers and she had wanted to help the world like they did. But it was only when she had come home on her eighteenth birthday to see them both dead that she knew what she wanted to be. The world had decided for her, she was to be a police.

When she had been suggested for MI6, well, all the better, right?

Wrong.

Who knew she was to be doing office work? Who knew she was not to been doing anything substantial? Who knew she wouldn't get to revenge justice upon the evil creatures of society?

Who knew, indeed.

"Fishy!" A loud shrieking interrupted her thoughts.

Poisson had hardly turned around to see where the voice had come from when suddenly she was being strangled.

"Mmph…gguhhh…whhguh…grhoff!" Poisson mumbled from somebody's hands. She gently pried the hands off and whirled the person to a seat beside Poisson.

"You!" she couldn't help but gasp.

"Yes, me," the turquoise-haired girl replied, staring at Poisson with her huge, childlike eyes. She pouted innocently, "Who did you expect? Paul?"

Poisson blinked once, twice, then a third time. "Who's Paul?"

The girl sighed. "Hm, nevermind. So, you're like a police, right?"

Poisson stared at her without blinking. "Whhat?"

"I'd like to report a robbery," the kid said seriously.

"A robbery?" Poisson repeated disbelievingly.

"Well, five, actually," Turquoise admitted. "But technicalities don't matter."

Poisson was amused now, "Pray, tell, kid."

"Okay, one: Chopsticks is gonna kidnap Paul and kill him!" Turquoise cried.

Poisson couldn't help but laugh at this. "Honey, it's not a robbery if it hasn't happened yet."

"It has happened! In the future! It's a definite thing! You can't just discriminate towards this situation just because it "hasn't happened yet"! How do you know it hasn't? Maybe the future is just an alternate universe we will visit in the future! And now you can jail Chopsticks! We shall kill that alternate universe! Maybe then Paul won't die by my – no, her hand!"

Poisson patted the girl's back, "Dear, dear. Calm down. Right now, we don't have evidence to jail the girl with."

"Hm, you're right," Turquoise agreed. "But I do have evidence for another case!"

"That being?"

"Chopsticks stole my cookies!" she wailed.

"Who is Chopsticks, kid?"

"Uh," Turquoise blinked. "Uh. Uh…she's an evil, bloodsucking vampire witch!"

Poisson sighed in distress. She was getting nowhere with this kid.

"Why don't you go home, dear?" she suggested gently. "I'm sure your parents are looking for you…"

"You don't believe me!" Turquoise wailed. "I hate you! I hate-"

"No, of course, I believe you," Poisson hurriedly told her. "Except…it's rather late…" It was six o'clock. "…and I'm sure your parents are looking for you…" She wouldn't, if she were Turquoise's parents. "…so, yeah."

"Well," said Turquoise calmly. "Your certainty is something to trust, alright," she continued sarcastically.

Poisson groaned inwardly, "What's wrong?"

"My parents are back home," Turquoise explained.

Poisson didn't see any problem with that.

"…which is in a different continent," Turquoise further explained, seeing Poisson's expression. "Chopsticks and me...we came here by ourselves to stalk Anthony Horowitz."

Poisson had been under the impression that she and this supposed Chopsticks had been enemies.

"That was before I realized her evil plan," Turquoise went on. "Now I have nowhere to stay…We had an apartment in Camden Town, but she stole my keys and it'd take like, forever to lodge a complaint to the authorities, not to mention that it's six, already. They'd all be closed."

Poisson had closed her eyes somewhere in the middle of Turquoise's rant and massaged her temples before sighing and finally saying, "Do you need a place to stay?"

Turquoise's eyes widened in surprise as she said, "Seriously? I'd rather not sleep on the road tonight."

"Do you…" Poisson started wearily. She wasn't exactly what you would call a children person. "…do you want to stay at my place for a bit?"

"Oh, yes!" Turquoise jumped up and down happily. "That would be so great! Thank you! Thank you! My name is Jade, by the way!"

Staring at the hyperactive little girl in front of her, Poisson couldn't help but think that maybe, it had been a bad idea.


Eric

Eric Potter had always been sneaky, but he could never beat his brother at the skill; James somehow always knew all that he did. Sadly, the same could not be said for Eric, which probably explained the report stolen by the Marauders' inside man at MI6.

Apparently, Eric Potter was going to "keep an eye" on the Marauders. Meaning that the Marauders had to watch out, be more secretive.

But one thing you must remember. It's easy to let you guard down. You don't notice, you don't know, you will just lose. You can't make sure of anything, you will just lose. But you may lose anyway… or maybe not?

Lily Evans was a double agent and she was out for Marauder blood.

Sometimes, one little thing makes a great difference. Very much like how one little thing the goddess Aphrodite, of love, is going to do, is going to change everything. The exchange of the truth. The one and only.

I digress. Basically, the meeting went quite well for both parties, but it left James Potter with confusion and Lily Evans with slight doubts.


Lily

Lily didn't find James Potter that bad, actually. He'd seemed pretty normal to her. Nice, even, but that might have been her imagination.

Whatever it was, James Potter didn't seem megalomania level. Her instincts told her that the most evil this guy could do was prank a schoolmate – that he did that often, even. But carry out all the history in his files? Not…really…

Frustratingly, Lily somehow felt that she was missing out on something. As a licensed psychologist from Oxford, her first impression of James was a mischievous little boy and that did not an evil criminal make.

The first thing she noticed about him was his eyes. They were sort of amber, framed with long, dark lashes. He had the most perfect nose, the most luscious soft, full lips and messyish dark hair and the first thought Lily had of him was that he was very pretty.

"Lily Rosalea Evans," he greeted her the second he noticed her and gave her an easy grin that Lily's intuition found out of place.

She noticed that his eyes shone emerald in the violet light and childishly cursed whatever force up there that gave James Potter prettier eyes than hers. Bloody hell, she wanted those eyes.

She ignored him and sat down disdainfully. Pretty boy raised his eyebrows at her silence before crossing his arms and leaning back against the chair as if waiting for something, which he probably was.

Five minutes passed by where Pretty boy inspected his nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world and Lily just coldly stared ahead.

Finally she acknowledged him. "What do you want to talk about: mushrooms, Chi-Chi or Paul?"

Curious, James leaned forward on his arms and asked, "Chi-Chi?"

"Haven't you read about him in my file? Chi-Chi was a pig-shaped plush toy," Lily replied, sounding annoyed.

"You mean Chili?" James asked sceptically.

"The hell. We called him Chi-Chi," Lily snapped, her eyes flashing. "He was my toy."

"Okay…" James held up his arms in surrender. "So…Paul?"

"He's an octopus. People claimed that he predicted UEFA this year."

James raised his eyebrows again, "You want some calamari?"

"Very funny," Lily replied calmly. A waiter filled her glass with wine from a decanter and she took a sip from it.

Pretty boy took it as his cue to drink from his glass too. Their eyes met and silent words were exchanged.

"I have the documents set up upstairs, if you would follow me later…" Pretty boy suggested.

Lily shrugged, body language exuding "uninterested", but agreed anyway.

"You know, your brother sucks," Lily casually mentioned some time into their conversation about Mac and Windows. ("Windows sucks donkey balls"-"You can't play a lot of computer games on Macs"-"Install a partition, or something….wait a minute - You play computer games?"-"I really have nothing better to do. I have the most boring job of filing information")

Pretty boy blinked. "Who?"

"There's no need to hide it from me, dear," Lily rolled her eyes. "I file information now, remember? That, and I have a stalking problem."

James grinned suddenly. "So you stalked me," he stated.

"No, it's in your file," Lily rolled her eyes. "Actually, it's in his file. Eric."

James glanced up sharply. "Do you know him personally?"

"Eric?" Lily repeated. "He was nice, for a while. But then I learned that you can trust no one." Her eyes clouded over with slight hurt and James unwillingly found himself wondering what had actually gone down.

No one spoke after that and they remained in a comfortable silence until the food arrived.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you," James explained, somehow apologetic.

Lily shrugged it off and took a mouthful of her Greek salad.

"This is good," Lily looked up and saw James anxiously looking at her to gauge her reaction to the food and she giggled.

"Isn't it?" James asked rhetorically.

After a delicious desert of baklava, Lily followed Pretty boy up to his room to sign the papers in privacy.

"You know…" she breathed as she signed her name to a future of treachery and deception. It was time to prettify her story.

"Yeah?" Pretty boy said distractedly. He was staring at his nails again. He seemed to be in love with them.

Lily bit her lip as if suddenly deciding to clam up, before finally replying.

"Eric was the guy who demoted me to desk duty."


James

"Eric was the guy who demoted me to desk duty."

James looked up at the pretty, jaded Lily ("It's Miss Evans to you!") Evans who stood to his front and stared in momentary shock as he heard the words.

Snorting inwardly, he curiously wondered, What kind of shit is Eric up to now?


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