Disclaimer: The Venture Bros. and their universe are the property of Jackson Public, Doc Hammer, Astrobase Go, and the Cartoon Network. In other words, I do NOT own the majority of these characters, so, please, don't sue me. The few OCs popping around are mine but considering they're part of a fanfiction, I'm sure there's not much to be done with them.

If Gary had thought Sloane worked like a robot, then he has no words for how Accounting Agent (yep, that is apparently a realjob title) Davies conducts himself. Super-Robot, maybe? No, that's awful. Mathematical Terminator? Yeah, now that has a ring to it and it's wicked apt considering how fast he processed Gary. Seriously, he was in the chair across from Davies for about ten minutes before they were done and he was sent to med-bay for inspection.

Davis' actual words: "for inspection", as if Gary was some part on a factory line. Those words come out and an understanding of Brock's mistrust really crystallizes. The O.S.I. may be the institution of heroes, spies, and super-soldiers but the trappings that come with being an institution, well, they chuff, to say the least. Gary can only hope that this is the worst of it.

His visit with Dr. Carrey proves to be a bright spot, though, even if the rest of the day goes to shit.

The med-bay, which is basically the basement of the building, is mostly empty when the elevator doors open onto it. He was the last of the "new" guys to see Davis and of that batch there were only five or so to begin with. Given the everybody's-getting-physicals edict made earlier, it's a tad off-putting.

Maybe it's just the venue; Gary's never been crazy about the place, but that may have more to do with Dr. Vulcano creeping up the place than anything else. Seriously, fuck that dude. He looked like he belonged in a jungle doing experiments on wildlife rather than looking after human beings.

"Hello!" Dr. Carrey's intern, Gary forgets her name, scares the bejesus out of him by popping up out of nowhere while he's doing his look-around. He's not sure what's sadder, that he got startled at all or that he somehow missed a girl with neon-pink hair until she was right in front of him.

Seriously, her head is a beacon. If the lights go out and it doesn't glow, he'll be disappointed.

The young woman, oblivious to the fact that she nearly got herself shot, thrusts a j-pad into his hands. She has a smile on her face that could not be more disingenuous if she tried. It's kind of like the beaming saleswomen at perfume counters do, broadcasting how much they don't actually care along with how ignoring them could get you in a body bag. "Here you go! Just swipe your thumb for system recognition. We'll get your sample and your scan done as soon as you're in."

"Sample and scan?"

"Yeah, just standard procedure and stuff." The intern has Amanda Seyfried-esque eyes, off-putting in their largeness. That and the disinterested gleam to those copper disks bothers him.

"Well, could you tell me what the 'standard procedure' is all about because I've never done it before."

Intern's (he can't remember her name, so she's that to him now) jaw drops. "Oh my god, really?" He hates the way that that sentence comes out of her mouth. Absolutely abhors it. She could not have packed in more shame for him if she'd been trying. "Shit, what kind of lame-ass healthcare did they have at your old job?"

Yeah, Gary thinks he's going to shoot her. He's going to be fired from the coolest job ever for shooting a smart-assed kid.

His job is saved, however, by Dr. Carrey (who also pops up out of nowhere) and his own j-pad which connects solidly with the back of Intern's head. On the good doctor's face is the most I-am-having-none-of-this-shit look that Gary has seen since the Monarch kicked the Pupae Twins out of his house. This is nearly as satisfying too.

"Ouch!" She covers her radioactive head, ducking away like a puppy.

"This is why you're doing you're internship here and not a real hospital!" the doctor all but growls. Another sound whack lands on Intern's shoulder. "No fucking bedside manner! Go watch the computers. Now."

"Aww!" Her disdain comes out in a high-pitched whine; as if she had just been denied a cookie or something. The j-pad gets her back and she flees with a pout.

Dr. Carrey shakes his head as he watches her go. "Fucking kid." Turning back to Gary, he offers an apologetic smile. "Sorry, dude. Nineteen-year-olds shouldn't be given medical degrees, what can I say?"

Gary does a double take between the doctor and the girl now sulking in front of several large screens. "Nineteen? Shit, really?"

The other man nods and there's no shortage of cynicism in his gray-green eyes now. "Yep. Shri's like, a genius, or some shit. Agency had to have her before the Guild called dibs." Another scowl is thrown at Shri. "Personally, I woulda just let 'em have her ass. Anyway."

A hand is held out to Gary which he takes, shaking. He notes, as mahogany fingers wrap firmly around his palm, that there's a wedding band resting on his hand. There's a Mrs. Dr. Carrey out there. Or maybe a Mr. Dr. Carrey. Unless a dude is as flamboyant as Shore Leave, Gary has absolutely no Gaydar to speak of.

"You probably heard it upstairs but just for fun, I'm Dr. Carrey, Archie if you would. Sorry again that my intern's a little shithead." The grin that blooms on Archie's face is both kind and just a little worn. It's genuine, Gary likes it at once, likes this man at once.

"Gary, and it's okay." He glances back at Shri who now is now sulking and texting on an expensive looking phone. "Well, mostly."

Archie catches what he's looking at and a belabored sigh rumples the smile. "Fuckin' kids. Seriously. I don't even care about how old that makes me sound." There's a moment or two as his fingers zip across his j-pad/intern smacker before holding it out to Gary. "Okay, you're gonna swipe your thumb on her, it's going to recognize you if you're in the system—which, you probably aren't going to be, because why would Vulcano have done that tiny, insignificant thing for me?—and then you're going to sit over there and wait to have bio-scan and a blood sample done."

"What's a bio-scan?" Gary asks even as he touches his thumb to the center of Archie's j-pad. As the good doctor predicted, the words "Not Recognized" flash in red across the screen. Archie, making a murder face at the j-pad (most probably envisioning Dr. Vulcano as he does), gestures across the lab.

Daniels, the so-far (should he count Shri? Gary is hesitant to count Shri. Both because she's a pain and her status as an intern) youngest member of team S.P.H.I.N.X. is standing in his briefs on a disc with a six foot diameter, just a few inches thick. Above him floats a matching disc from which flare thousands of thin, blue strips of light. The lasers pulse rhythmically, not at all unlike a heartbeat, and create a very low, buzzing tattoo. On a not-so-wild hunch, Gary would say that whatever those lights are doing is being translated onto the screens in front of Shri. In any case, it is all cool as fuck to watch.

"Sonic and infrared," Archie explains, smile back in place. Probably due to the fact that Gary can't keep his jaw up. "These babies'll replace cat-scans soon. Take off the armor, boots, and anything metal that isn't internal before you hop on." Gary gets a clap on the shoulder before Archie is on his way, barking something at Shri about working while she's at work and confiscating her cell phone.

Undressing while watching straight-up sci-fi medical technology is a little difficult, but Gary manages to strip to his boxers without tripping. He has a close call working on his left boot, but he chalks that to the need to flinch when Shri is charged with getting his blood sample. She's less of an abrasive little shit with a syringe, though, thank Christ. Tourniquet, swab, prick, pump, then slap a Band-Aid on; maybe it's the physician's version of Easy Mac, though, there's just no logical way to fuck it up.

Daniels and Claremont both get through the bio-scanner by the time that Gary's undressed and folded his clothes, so it's only Reed, Belton and the two doctors in the room when he turns around. Less of a crowd or not, he isn't spared the super awkwardness of remembering that there's not only the ridiculous "Hench4Life" stamped across his gut but also a fucking butterfly tramp stamp he's never gotten around to removing. Both are hideous reminders of wasted youth and now they're out, in front of his co-workers with washboard abs and a smirking nineteen-year-old that he really wants to punch.

The guys don't say anything, they've been in the locker room with him, they already know. Hell, Shore Leave's made so many bull's-eye jabs about the tramp stamp he literally cannot blush about it anymore. Still, Gary's never had to just hang out with the tattoos showing and especially not with an intern so obviously giggling at them twenty feet away. It's worse than high school.

Luckily, Archie and his fantastic bedside manner pull him over the hump of his reemerging self-consciousness.

"Oh so you're the one who used to Hench." He says it cheerfully enough, but it's the rap on the head he gives Shri (with her own damn phone, no less) in passing that really sells it. Gary might just love Archie as much as he does Shore Leave and they haven't even known each other ten minutes.

He also may dislike Shri as much as the Moppets but, oh well, there had to be a karmic trade-off somewhere.

Gary snorts a laugh, resisting the urge to fold his arms and cover up the ink. "What gave it away?"

"Your glossy hair, of course. I always heard that optimum hair and nail hygiene were a must for every professional henchman." Gary laughs and Archie shoos Shri away from the computer station taking the stool she'd been using in the process. The girl doesn't so much as make eye contact. Apparently being smacked with her own technology was a game changer. "So they don't have good insurance on the Guild's side, eh?"

The little threads of green light in the bio-scanner fizzle out and Archie nods dismissal to Reed. One man hops off and another hops on, leaving and dressing with just a "thanks". Gary wonders what's wrong with the other agents sometimes, all of them are so disinterested in talking, not like he, Shore Leave, Sky Pilot, Brock (occasionally), and now Archie.

He shrugs. "I don't know about what kind of insurance the Guild has but I do know the Monarch's sick bay had a suture kit, alcohol, peroxide, and some tranq darts the last time I was there. And we were lucky for those."

"Damn that's medieval."

Gary shrugs. "It wasn't exactly used a whole lot. Casualties outweigh wounded for Henchmen about ten to one on missions. If you were lucky enough to make it back it was probably because you ran early."

The truth in those words stings as they come up and it takes every ounce of Gary's willpower to keep from flinching.

Sticks and stones can break your bones and the rest of that saying is bullshit.

If Archie notes something off in the way that Gary says that and turns his head—which, he probably has to, judging by the eyebrow he raises—he doesn't say anything. It can probably be chalked up to something important on the scanner read-out, because he stands to investigate, tapping the touch screen and moving things about on it. Even if that's just a feint, though, Gary appreciates it. Especially if it's a feint.

Things are quiet, almost comfortably so, in-between then and the relatively brief time that it takes to complete Belton's scan. Gary's at ease enough that he doesn't feel any sort of trepidation when Archie nods for him to step up.

"Do you have any internal stuff I should know about?" Archie asks as he clears his screen, saving Belton's info in preparation for Gary's scan. "Metal rods, grafting, a plate?"

He shrugs, stepping onto the baseplate. The metal is surprisingly warm beneath his bare feet, a welcome change in contrast to cold cement. It gets even better as the bio-scanner starts warming back up and the air between the plates hums with radiant heat. It's almost like being locked in a very pleasant wind tunnel; Gary enjoys it, needless to say.

Still, he's not so lost in the sensation he forgets that the doctor needs a report. "Not unless Shore Leave did something to me when he knocked me out a couple weeks back." At Archie's raised eyebrows, Gary elaborates. "It's how I joined." The eyebrows don't go down. "I…it's a long story. Let's just leave it at that."

Archie puts his hands up. "Hey, man, it's cool, no judgments. Well," his mouth quirks up on the right, "some judgments. But that's okay, you know. You'll find out weird shit about me pretty soon too and we'll have judged each other. It'll be great. Like bonding and shit."

Gary laughs, caught between trying to defend the situation and skipping straight ahead to demanding to hear about some of Archie's so-called "weird shit". Before he can do much more than open his mouth, though, the elevator doors are opening and a very agitated voice fills the whole room.

"Archie, why the actual fuck haven't you signed off my suit?!"

Maybe it's simply the fact that he hasn't exactly been exposed to working with many women over the years, that's probably a really big part of it all, but something in Gary insists on feeling floored when he catches sight of who's yelling at Archie. Well, that and the fact that she's, barefoot, in her underwear, and hot. And angry. And so hot. Red, smoking, explosive, agonizing, slave-Leia, hot. And, again, super angry, which probably helps the hot part if Gary's brain could logically dissect things at this point in time.

Later he'll do that. Right now, he's just fighting to keep his mouth shut and not be an idiot.

Archie isn't fazed by Her Lady of Hotness even a little bit. In fact, his reaction to her entrance is very akin to how he looks on Shri. Annoyed, worn, and slightly homicidal. He does do a double take at her state of undress; however, there isn't even a drop of arousal there.

"Randi, why're you walking around in your drawers?" For a second it looks like Archie's going to take his lab coat off and offer it to her, whether she wants it or not, but in the end he thinks better of it. Silently, Gary praises that decision. "If Sam sees you doing this again, she'll tase you."

Her Lady of Hotness, or Randi, as is evidently her actual name (sad, Gary would call "Her Lady of Hotness" a particularly inspired epithet) makes a face that on anyone else would be decidedly unattractive. On her though, it works. She could probably make a horse shit work, though.

From where he's standing, Gary can't really make out her eye color but the rest of her is open enough. God, in more ways than one.

Dude, you're a super spy, swooning isn't acceptable anymore.

On the pale side, her skin has a rosiness to it that makes the pale part attractive where elsewise it might have been sickly. He wouldn't peg her as very tall, five-foot-five at best, and built like a pinup girl, lush in the hips and chest. While whether or not she's wearing lipstick is debatable at this point, her mouth when Gary sees it is pink, plush, and perfectly matched to her heart-shaped face, pert nose, and wide eyes. Her hair is a white-blonde color that might just be natural and cropped asymmetrically with a long hank on the right side, the end of which is tipped in violet.

In all, she is a very pretty woman. The words that come out of her mouth, however, veer in the opposite direction.

"Fuck Sam!" Randi presents both middle fingers, to Archie, to Sam, to anyone present, who knows. She is aggressive about it though. "And fuck you! Don't try and sidetrack me, ass! Now why haven't I been approved for a strength suit?"

Archie face-palms, shoulders sagging. "Really? You wanna do this now? This couldn't have waited until I was done with my integration work?"

Gary didn't think that it was possible for the look Randi's wearing to become any nastier. He's wrong. "What work?" she demands. "Have your intern file your shit, that's what they're for, man! Now, why don't I have my release?"

"Miranda, I am in the middle of a bio-scan." Waving his j-pad in Gary's direction, there's a certain shiver to the movement that belays how Archie truly wants to thwack her on the head with it like he would Shri. Unfortunately, with this woman it might not work. Nope, not at all. Judging by her stance and the way she carries her weight, Randi will hit back. Quite hard, too. "Could you at least tone down the raging bitch in front of the people who don't know you yet? You'll spoil the surprise of your sweet personality."

Gary will give Archie this much; the man has stones. Like all the women he's met that day (all being three) Randi exudes a certain ferocity that beleaguers the very notion of looking at them sideways. And yet Archie baits her. How bright that is remains to be seen, but it's still impressive.

Randi whips her head toward Gary, eyes narrowing as she sizes him up for just a second. Yet again, he struggles not to recoil.

"Jesus fuck, who gives a shit?" Up go those middle fingers again, this time right in Gary's direction. "Hey, asshole, do you give a shit or does Archie need to double check your lard deposits for hair and baby teeth?"

Really, Gary should not have expected anything nice to come out of her mouth. It doesn't make what she says sting any less, but, really, he should've been prepared for some sort of acidic refuse.

And, lest he forget, he's standing mostly naked with a butterfly tramp stamp partially in view.

Under crushing waves of self-consciousness, Gary misses the elevator doors sliding apart one more time. Then again, Archie and Her Infernal Hotness (yep, new nickname) don't catch them either, so he probably shouldn't be too bothered about it. They all catch on pretty quickly, though, when Randi shrieks and drops to the ground, limbs twitching in a static buzz.

About fifty paces behind Randi's convulsing figure, Sloane holsters a stun gun. Somehow, the woman makes a blank face so much more terrifying than outright rage and Gary feels himself pitying the blonde woman. Not too much, though.

"I do believe we discussed what would happen if you had another wardrobe malfunction, Miranda." Sloane's voice is almost pleasant as she approaches, and like all things not normally scary, she's able to twist that into something cringe-worthy.

"Jesus H. Christ, Sam!" Randi sputters as she rolls onto her knees. "What the fuck voltage was that on?!" Both hands scrabble around to her back, trying to reach the two little studs that had released the charge. It's a bit of work, Sloane—undoubtedly on purpose—had hit that space right in the middle of the back that's just about impossible to reach on your own. Eventually she gets them, though, dislodging the nodules with a yelp.

"I set it to 'obnoxious'," Sloane replies breezily. "Don't tempt me to dial on up to 'cunt'." She nods over Randi's shoulder to him and Gary can't decide if he needs to hide or not. "Now, apologize to your new teammate, you were exceptionally rude to him. And Archie, for interrupting his work. Then go and suit up or so help me, I will fry you."

Gary doesn't think that she'll actually do it. Randi strikes him as the type that'd take death over acknowledging she was in the wrong. Perhaps the fear of more electrocution is a stronger deterrent than even fatality, though, or maybe it's just Sloane. Gary would put his money on Sloane. In any case, the blonde stands up, wobbly for just a second or two, and dusts herself off.

"Sorry, Archie." Grudging and with grinding teeth it still comes out. She doesn't make eye contact though. "Sorry…new guy."

"Good girl." Sloane's praise is met with the silent "sit-and-spin" as Randi stomps her way to the elevator. Amazingly, the taser doesn't come out again and she's allowed the rude, sulking exit. Sloane shakes her head.

The Sentinel's mask drops as she turns to look over at Archie, the right corner of her mouth quirking up. "So, why haven't you approved her for strength suit testing?"

Archie snorts, returning to his screens. "Same reason you withheld the testing info from her for so long; she's fun as hell to annoy." He cocks his head just enough so that she can't miss his grin. "That and Nicky isn't done fine tuning those shells. Better for her to be on my case than the kid's, Sammy."

"How very noble of you."

"I know, right?"

"So am I done now?" Gary wouldn't actually mind staying with Archie because the man can carry a conversation, and, unlike Shore Leave, doesn't seem like he's going to have a penchant for ridiculous nicknames. Or a knee-jerk reaction to treat Gary like a kid. Problem is, Sloane is there, and she makes him twitchy. Specifically, her taser gun makes him twitchy, after watching how she dealt with Randi.

Throwing him a thumbs-up, Archie nods. "Sure thing, dude. As Chief S.P.H.I.N.X. physician, I hereby give you a clean bill of health. Gimme a sec and I'll get you a gold star you can put on your helmet."

He laughs, slipping back just a bit into that relaxed air that had existed before Randi stormed in, despite Sloane's presence. "Sweet, can I get two? I'll put 'em on each side. It'll look like earrings."

Going from the warmth of the bio-scan platform back to cool cement is a little bit of a shock to Gary's system. Gooseflesh is instantaneous and he can't fight off one little shiver as he makes a b-line for his gear. Pulling his socks and pants on in record time, he contemplates going straight to the showers from here. He hasn't had five seconds to breathe since the flight over to Tangiers about a day and a half ago, let alone since they landed, so needless to say, Gary kind of wants to clean up.

"Do you have any pressing assignments from the Commander, Agent Stewart?" Until he looks up from tying his boots, merely by coincidence, to find gray-blue eyes watching him, Gary doesn't even realize that Sloane is addressing him. That and he's never been addressed as "Agent Stewart" before. Hell, he's pretty sure that he hasn't heard his own last name in over a decade; he's sort of forgotten he has one. Even Twenty-Four didn't know it.

"Gary." Not quite sure why he corrects her, or where the courage to do so, comes from. "Just, uh, Gary. Please."

She gives a brisk nod and waits. It takes Gary a second or two under her expectant stare to remember that she'd been asking him a question and a second more to remember the answer.

"Um, no." The high school feeling claws back at the pit of his stomach only this time it's more of a "why did the teacher pick on me?" scenario rather than a mean girls one. Gary isn't sure which he hates more. "I filed my report on are last mission before we landed and stuff so…"

Why in the hell are you still talking?

Another über military nod comes his way. "Good, I need someone to go with me to the Venture main complex. If you wouldn't mind."

Once again, Gary's mouth works ahead of his good sense. "Huh? Why me?" He sincerely hopes he doesn't actually sound nervous when he speaks. It's there, of course, but that doesn't mean he wants anyone to know.

Sloane surprises him with a smirk that's actually human, maybe even kind, hard as it is to believe his eyes. "I know the names of three resident agents with grounds knowledge. You, Shore Leave, and Commanders Samson." Her nose wrinkles in a not-at-all fond way. "The commander is busy and I am not going anywhere with a man who insists on calling me 'Rolling Sloane', thanks."

Gary can't stop himself from laughing at that. Luckily, neither can Archie, and the other man is much more vocal about it.

"'Rolling Sloane'?" Archie nearly drops his j-pad. "Holy shit, that is perfect. I gotta text it to Jules, she'll love it."

"Please don't encourage this."

The doctor shakes his head. "Sorry, Sammy. Well, not really but, you know." He pats her shoulder. "Love you."

Scowling, Sloane shrugs off the touch, albeit it all seems half-hearted. "Do not; you're a horrible best friend. Jules is my new favorite."

With a shrug and still grinning, Archie turns back to his work. "That's okay. I'll be her favorite after date night. The swirly thing trumps all."

Sloane wretches. "Ugh! Okay. Fine, I'm going. Agent—Gary," she catches her mistake as she finally looks back at him, "I'll be by the central terminal when you're ready." She waits for his nod of acceptance then marches to the elevator without looking back despite Archie's continued prodding.

"Aww, come on, Sammy! Don't be like that. Sammy! Why do you always roll away, Sloane?" He cackles madly at the last one and Gary can't contain a groan. That just makes Archie chuckle more. "Come on, that one was pretty awesome."

"You tell yourself whatever you have to, man."

"Oh, don't worry, I will."

Comfortable silence spreads through the room again, punctured by the occasional buzz and beep from equipment. Gary finishes dressing after debating whether or not he's going to need full armor for this. He probably won't but he puts his helmet and shoulder pads back on anyway. Being a henchman did a lot to educate him in the unexpected and S.P.H.I.N.X. hasn't done anything to alter that mindset, brief as his time there has been.

"You don't need to be so nervous around her, you know." The advice comes almost as an offhand comment that, were there anyone else in the room, Gary could choose to ignore. It's too late, though, he's met Archie's eye. "Sam's got her moments of stick-up-the-ass but she's mostly pretty cool."

"You're gonna have to sell that better," he tells the other man. Why he's being honest, he's not sure. Archie just has that air of trust-worthiness, he supposes. "Especially after I watched her taser someone."

Archie laughs. "Yeah but it was Miranda. Everyone wants to tase her. Wait until she makes herself at home, you'll be begging Sam to shock her every ten minutes."

Voice Actor Fancast

Special Agent Samantha Sloane—Laura Bailey

Dr. Archie Carrey—Damon Wayans Jr.

Agent Miranda Hart—Ashly Burch

Jayashri "Shri" Krrish—Liz Sroka