Operation Glitterberries

Chapter 03: Honey Trap

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Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV and Viacom. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

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"And tell me why such a beautiful nymph like you was walking alone in the road?"

He had been returning from Oakwood after another editor had rejected his latest book, 'why couldn't she recognize real talent?', when he had found her like a spirit coming out of the woods her jacket in one hand and a huge bag on her shoulder, all dirty and sweaty but with a radiant energy flowing of her young nubile body.

"My boyfriend, he thinks I'm a bore, that I only like poetry and books and not other fun things. So he told me that we were going to have a picnic, and then he let me there in the middle of the road. I could hear him laughing as he drove away." He could see tears flowing out of her eyes at the remembrance of that bitter memory.

His new found flower was such a sensitive soul, she shared at least one of his own passions and this demonstrated that they were surely destined to be joined.

"Oh my dear, that's the folly of young. Let me tell you, if literature and poetry weren't the greatest ways for human's imagination to soar free would I be a writer?"

"You're a writer?" He congratulated himself; by sharing a little bit of his own life experience she had abandoned her sadness. If he shared more, how fast would she blossom into a woman?

"Yes, I'm in the process of writing a novel right now, it's about a slightly older, sensitive man and the love a budding woman child feels for him when she gets to know him better."

"Oh, it sounds so enlightening. Have you written anything else? Maybe I have read you before."

"Regrettably while I have already written another book about the joys of a young woman joining her destiny with an older man when they got trapped in the middle of a desert island after a shipwreck, the editors I have met aren't capable of discern the genius of my works. So I'm forced to work as a literature teacher. But even that is a blessing in disguise, to be around so many ladies in the onset of their womanhood present me with a plethora of chances to better help them reach their own potential."

"Please tell me more…"

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As soon as Mike had called with new coordinates for the search of Parrot2 Jimmy 'the voyeur' Stokes had redirected his helicopter and headed there at cruising speed, holding back the temptation of going at full speed, the fuel might be needed for the combing the area.

The ERU's air support community was as tight as it was small, with only two helicopters to their name, the lack of enough personnel created some lasting bonds; the pilots and their crews knew each other by name, every one was there to lend a hand were needed with the pilots often helping the grease monkeys with the maintenance, the EMT were trained to be replacement crewmembers and help with instrument readings, and at the end of their shift all got to the same bar for a beer together. Also when they lost one of their own they grieved and worried together, just like now.

It was his fault…

As a pilot he had proudly earned the nickname of voyeur not by being a pervert, although he did liked to flash the kids at the Make-out Lane with his searchlight just to watch them scramble like headless chickens, but by his excellent sight and the ability to see and understand the action occurring many yards bellow as if he was just in front seat, without the need of binoculars or slowing down his craft. And he loved football so whenever there was a game that needed to be overflown he always lobbied for the position; and in this occasion it meant that when the call for a long range rescue mission came, John had to take the call instead of him, even if today was his turn.

It had been a great game, Oakwood trounced the Lawndale Lions so hard that hey were little more than pussies when the whistle sounded. He should know; he had without any doubt the best seat of the competence, just above the heads of the players. He even credited himself with an interception when he had zoomed in low in the exact moment when the Lawndale High Quarterback was doing a move, distracting him in just the right moment, an act that would win him many beers on the night.

And it wasn't worth the life of his friend.

"Parrot3 here, we have arrived to the coordinates, commencing search pattern."

He took a route parallel to the closest road; the 911 call had mentioned a flower field, about four miles from the road. So he went searching in that general direction; amongst his objectives there was not only the helicopter, even if it was his main priority, but also a young girl of unknown description who had called in the crash and was believed to be a survivor suffering from shock.

And there it was, just as the call had described Parrot2 was sitting in the middle of the flower field, surrounded by yellow daisies. As far as he was concerned it was a beautiful sight, the helicopter sat there in surprisingly good condition; when he was told that there were trapped people inside his mind couldn't help but to conjure nightmarish images of twisted steel.

"Parrot3 here, we see Parrot2 in the middle of a field, I can't see any damage to the craft from this position, I'll land next to it…"

Doing that was easy, the field was almost a perfect landing zone, with soft and level black soil which allowed his helicopter a smooth landing a few feet away from the other helicopter, and it probably contributed to the low amount of damage their sister craft has sustained.

As soon as the skids touched the ground Ellie, his designated EMT and girlfriend jumped out of her seat and ran straight to the accident, no doubt spurned by the cries they could hear inside, he joined her the moment he turned off the engine. What he saw inside the chopper was not was he expected.

Instead of barely not yet bodies trapped by the misshapen and compressed frame of a damaged craft the civvies inside were restrained by straps and leather cuffs, nothing accidental on that and their screams weren't as much pain as raw madness. And in the front seat John was likewise tucked in a similar way than the passengers, but what caught his attention was Ellie holding the head of Henry while shouting at him.

"Quickly, cut him down. Now!"

Then he realized why she was holding him like that; he was hanging from the neck, and the wire that formed his noose was cutting his throat, through all that he could hear his shallow and labored breath.

"Come on, while I hold him!" Doing as told he took the wire and unhook it from its hanger, releasing the pressure and allowing Henry to breathe more normally.

With some additional effort between Ellie and him they cut the rest of his fastenings and let him lie on the ground, then while his girlfriend did the basic check-up he went to the other side of the cockpit and started removing Abrams restrains when he stirred and half opened his eyes.

"John, John. Wake up buddy, its going to be okay."

"glitterberry…" John was slurring badly and it seemed that even talking required a supreme effort.

"John, calm down I'm here

"crazies… dange..us"

"We got the three inside; they're still delirious but alive and restrained."

"No! girl… green… dangerous."

"Girl dangerous? Dispatch told us about a possible survivor who escaped the crash and was in shock, are you talking about her?"

"Dangerous… crazy …berries"

He then looked at the rest of the passengers in the chopper and Jimmy just understood.

"Oh my god!"

"Dispatch, we have five survivors inside, we are removing them from Parrot2 and establishing a triage…"

The girl who made the call wasn't in shock, or at least not 'only' in shock, somehow she was responsible for the crash, and doing that while inside meant that she had poor impulse control. And then she had done that thing with the wire to Henry…

"… Dispatch… Mike, contact the police, something weird happened here, something really weird."

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While waiting on the bed of the motel Ken did his best to contain his excitement, he needed to be the mature and skilled lover for Abigail, after many years of theorizing on how the love of a man in the peak of his life would allow a girl to become a woman, he wanted to make her first time even more memorable that the fact that she slept with Ken Edwards.

After he picked her up in the middle of the woods of Oakwood and discovering that her destination was the same one as his, they had expended the whole day together. He had told her about his passion for teaching little ladies about literature and the value of experience. In exchange she had told him about that bastardly boyfriend of hers and how he had harmed her self-esteem. The beauty of young was wasted on childish boys if that barbarian couldn't see pass the glasses, to bask on her radiance.

In that moment he had decided that it was his duty, nay, his privilege to nurse this carnelian back to health, and then encourage so that she could blossom in his arms.

The first step of her treatment had been to invite her to the picnic she never had, as a way of redoing the wrongs done to her. For that purpose they went to the Payday warehouse in the nearest town. While Abigail was nursing her feet on the car, 'just how much did the poor girl had to walk before I found her?', he went and bought some fried chicken, Ultra cola, some mild wine and a bottle of stronger spirits to help her overcome her natural shyness. He also brought her a lovely straw hat with a white bow that for some reason was for sale in the pet's section. Oh, how much would he pay for seeing her in a sundress!

Then he had found an adequate spot far enough of the road and started the belated picnic. She had been impressed by his witty commentaries of the deficiencies of young men, and then after a satisfying meal he regaled she with selected passages of the manuscript that his that had been rejected by the publisher from Oakwood, the enthusiasm with which she had received it just underlined the folly of that old woman who called herself an editor and was jealous that she had been unable to find true love in her young.

The success of the reading was commemorated with a toast, him with the whisky and she with the wine. The innocent smiles as he stroked her hair and held her hand on his was something he would cherish forever.

And then when they had entered Lawndale's city limits and they had drove near a motel she had in a moment of true courage pleaded him to go there and to be her first. He could not deny the supreme effort she had needed to overcome her shyness and to seek him to replace the painful memories of a childish boyfriend with ones of a caring lover.

While she waited on the car on his bereft, the uncultured masses weren't yet capable of understanding the needs of the young nymphs and were prone to reach wrong conclusions, when his books finally came out of the presses it would teach them different but for now he would just have to be careful. He reserved a full night, there were many lessons to be taught and then went inside with her.

And then as soon as they entered she had asked him to turn around, unwilling to scare her he complied, getting more and more exited as he heard the fall of pieces of clothing from behind him. And then the sound of soft barefoot steps, he was about to turn when he felt a slight prick, and then the whole world just spin around.

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Melody was glad that at last she could get rid of Ken. While he had been instrumental in avoiding any blockade that her enemies could set, he was also one of the single most infuriating men she had ever met.

From the go he was more than willing to seduce her, saving her the effort of attempting to do the same to him, even if their final goals were too different. She just had to make him believe that his clumsy words and his disgusting habit of putting his hands on others people's hair.

Then after she had spun her story of cruel boyfriend and a picnic turned into drama he had somehow gotten the idea that they needed to have a picnic to in his own words: 'help her heal from the treacherous actions of that foolish child.' Since she felt herself starving, she agreed to his suggestion.

The spot he chose to park was in a secluded part more of less in the side of the store, where she would be able to flee to the rest of the town after climbing the fence. Since she wanted to avoid the security cameras inside she had pleaded sore feet and stayed inside, just asking for a cap to supposedly covering from the sun during their picnic, but in truth to conceal herself better. While waiting for him she entertained herself by reading the registration and insurance papers of the car, memorizing his address just in case she had a chance to go there later and murder him.

She hadn't been amused when he returned with one of those hats for horses, but to her eternal frustration she had to hid it and accept the present with a smile on her face.

The picnic itself was a form of torture that not even the Chinese sadists of Mao's couldn't have thought about, for starters while ravaging her chicken he had talked non stop of his superiority as a man and lover to the boys more around her apparent age. That had been bad but tolerable but then he decided to read out loud parts of his so called masterpiece. In fact it was a semi-pornographic trashy novella where he trapped a girl in a desert island with a badly concealed version of himself and then went off like bunnies while mangling the English language in terrible ways.

The toast she had make to shut him off was worthy drinking that cheap wine which made her long for her own cellar and her reserved stash. All while he kept stroking her hair like a dog.

But as they arrived to Lawndale she had seen a chance for a safe place to sleep and a way of getting a modicum of payback and she had seized it. Doing her best lustful look she had asked him to go to a motel nearby, she had even used her nonexistent virginity as bait, and he just felt for it, line hook and sinker.

Just as she expected he had declined her offer of going with him to the reception desk, knowing that there were at least even odds that the manager would call the police if he saw a grown man with a young teen, which her body looked at the moment.

Then after he returned and they sneaked into the room she shyly asked him to turn around while she took her own clothes off and prepared the dart she had concealed all the way in case he tried something more than she had been willing to give.

As soon as he collapsed from the effects of the dart, and it had been her third today, half of her supply, she had undressed him; first his shirt that she used to tie him up from the arms and legs after cutting it in half, and then from his pants. Once that was done she splashed whisky all around him.

She was going to measure the time the drugs would knock someone, and if he waked up sooner than she hoped then she would just tell him that they had emulated chapter five of his so called book. Depending of his answer she would decide if killing him was the best choice.

Then just for letting him think that he had some action she kicked him between the legs, regrettably he was sedated so his cry of pain barely registered, but at least he would be sore when he waked up and then unwilling to try a second round.

Now she had a secure location to spend the night; no one, not even the man at the reception, knew that she had come here, and therefore no one would call the police nor would be able to track her movements to the city and beyond.

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Jane and Trent arrived to their house tired and hoping beyond hope that leaving Aunt Bernice stranded after doing a runner from the family reunion would be enough to disinherit them. After they had arrived to the local airport Trent had exchanged their tickets for the first flight to Middlebury. The mistake was that for saving more or less twenty minutes for the direct flight they had to take instead a tour of all the small airports on three states.

Arriving tired and with a sore butt Jane wished once more that she would have taken Daria's place in the camping trip. No matter just how bad staying three days with princess Quinn would be at least it was the devil they already knew and tortured in return, while her family always traveled with their little piece of hell to torture her and Trent.

As she dived to her bed she wished to have Daria to at least complain about their respective hells, usually the spectacled girl would always won in their little 'I had a worse day than you' games, but this time she was sure of her victory. There just wasn't any way that she could beat the extended Lane family and their transportation woes…

No way at all.

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Chapter three is over.

What would a spy story would be without at least an occasion when the Femme Fatale seduce someone?

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