Author's Note: I know the plot isn't the most original, but it creates great humour. Furthermore, the sub-plots should be intricate and interesting. ;)
Another Note: This story contains SPOILERS. If you haven't read my other fics, starting with "Mother Knows Best," you might get confused.
The AVENGERS
The gentle whirring of a peculiar shaped machine was the only noise in the room. The machine had two seats, separated by a control panel filled with flashing lights, buttons, and dials. Suspended above the seats were two domes meant to be lowered over the head of the unfortunate sitter.
A man dressed in a scientist's white coat stood next to the contraption, examining it. Sewn on his coat was a vulture on a globe and the words KAOS. Off to the right of this piece of equipment was another scientist similarly dressed except minus the KAOS emblem.
The first scientist said quite earnestly, "Your machine is very impressive, Dr. Krelmar. I was surprised to learn that no one else had snatched it up before KAOS came along to buy it."
The second man, Krelmar, spoke, "Several people and organizations did try to buy my baby, but I would have none of it."
"Well, I'm glad KAOS was so convincing," the first scientist replied sardonically as he nodded towards a third man.
This man was attired in a black turtleneck, black pants, and a black leather coat. And in his hand, pressed firmly against Dr. Krelmar's temple, was a gun. "I want to see this machine in action," the third man demanded.
"Patience, Fred; you will, you will." The evil KAOS scientist smiled nefariously before shutting the machine off. "Lock up Dr. Krelmar and bring me Agents 86 and 99! We shall see who is the superior agency, KAOS, or their CONTROL!"
Fred dragged Dr. Krelmar, protesting and struggling, from the room. The KAOS scientist glanced once more at the machine and was about to leave the chamber, when the shadows of two people appeared in the door frame. "Ah! Our newest KAOS members. Have you come to inspect the machine?"
"We've seen it before, remember?" the bitter voice of a female rang out.
"We've lived it before," an insipid male voice added.
The figures stepped into the light, revealing themselves to be John Steed and Emma Peel's archenemies, Basil and Lola.
What's What???
Tara Turns to Crime
Conrad Travels the Straight and Narrow
Steed Fills Max's Shoes
Emma Becomes a Number
First Day
Mrs. Emma Steed, nee Peel nee Knight, finished washing the dishes and casually entered her living room. She wondered where her husband had disappeared to so quickly after lunch. At least her nine month-old child was right where she had left her: sprawled on a blanket, clutching a teddy bear.
"How's my Katie doing?" Emma asked as she knelt on the floor so she could be eye level with her baby.
Katie pursed her lips together, ready to speak. "*Miwee Deel*!" She pushed herself up into sitting position.
Emma was quite perplexed at what her child was saying. Katherine knew how to speak the typical words, such as *mummy*, *daddy*, and *bobba*, which could be translated either as *bottle*, or *I want any kind of food NOW*. But the statement *Miwee Deel* was utterly new to the still learning mother.
"What are you trying to say, my love?" Mrs. Steed whispered dulcetly.
Katie's large, liquid eyes were even wider as she repeated the message. Her chin was shot up almost defiantly, as if she expected her mother to understand her babble. Emma looked into those grey pools that were Katie's eyes and felt a stab of discomfort at not being able to understand her.
"Try it again, Katie dear," Emma cajoled.
This time as Katherine Tara Steed spoke, another distant voice was heard coaching her. With the two voices working together, Mrs. Steed made out, "*Miwis Peel*!"
Then she understood everything. Her husband had taught her pet name, "Mrs. Peel," to the child, probably in the same manner as you teach a parrot, and he had been the quiet voice she had just heard. "All right, Steed, where are you?" she demanded, that annoyed smirk of hers flitting across her mouth.
Before she had a chance to look for her husband, Steed popped out from behind his red leather sofa. "We're needed!"
******************
"Dr. Krelmar went missing earlier this month," Steed informed his wife as they strolled down the corridor to their superior's office.
"Wasn't he just given parole?" Emma inquired.
"Exactly, which is why we highly doubt he went into hiding to create one of his new contraptions. We strongly believe he was kidnapped."
"We?" Emma echoed.
"Didn't you know that H and I have already been over the case? He'll fill you in on all the details." Steed opened the door to a well furnished office and allowed his wife to enter first.
H was ruthless, gravely serious, and as authoritative as a boss could be. In short, he ran the M15 division like it was the military. H was often belittled by the other leaders in the agency for his strict policies. The boss of M16, M, seemed particularly adverse to H's behaviour, but no one took M seriously since he had the rowdiest spy under his jurisdiction, Agent 007.
After giving his formal "hello's, to his favourite agents, H informed Emma of the situation. "We believe that KAOS has something to do with this scheme."
"What makes you so sure?" Mrs. Steed asked, seating herself in one of the plush chairs.
"Just for the simple fact that only two people alive would be concerned over what Kremlar was doing, and these two people are suspected of having escaped from prison and joined KAOS."
Mrs. Peel gazed squarely into her superior's eyes as she questioned, "Are these two people Basil and Lola?"
"I'm afraid so," H sighed. "That is the only reason I summoned you two for the job. You are already familiar with their diabolical ways, and thus you should be able to deduce their next moves."
"At which KAOS outpost are they suspected of hiding?" Emma Peel asked.
"Evidence shows that Basil and Lola have taken refuge at the Washington D.C. branch. I have assigned you two foreign partners for this case, but I want you take backup from our own ministry as well."
Steed snapped his fingers before he declared, "Tara King will be more than eager to assist us."
"Fine, she shall accompany you two," H conceded. "You have never worked on an international level before, have you?"
"Not at this ministry, but at the other one with Mother," Steed replied.
"Well, we travelled to Germany in order to rescue Tara when she was in the clutches of that sadistic Siegfried," Emma reminded her husband.
"Do you think you'll need any more backup?" H queried the two.
"I think that with us, Miss King, and our two foreign correspondences, we will be able to work out this case in no time," Emma said confidently.
"Your plane leaves for Washington in two hours. Passports and other formalities have been taken care of. Good luck on your mission, and return home soon." H handed them two files filled with information and passports. "Who knows, if you do this well enough I might give you the honour of greeting the leader from that African country Zalania."
Silently, Emma and Steed strode to the door. Just before he exited the vicinity, Steed inquired, "Which two Americans will we have the pleasure of working with?"
"You're partners will be," H cleared his throat nervously, "the top CONTROL agents, Maxwell and Mrs. Smart."
Steed grimaced at the thought of the beady-eyed man with the annoying accent and bumbling manners. "We will never make it out of this mission alive," he muttered audibly.
Mrs. Steed laid a gentle hand on his shoulder as she whispered, tongue planted firmly in cheek, "At least he'll be wreaking havoc in his own country and not ours like last time. So even if we do not make it, at least we can be assured that Great Britain will be safe."
Steed managed to smile wryly at her remark. "Patriotism really does suit you, Mrs. Peel!" The couple marched out of the building side by side as was their normal custom.
**************
Tara King entered her massive apartment with a pensive sigh. She had been out on her daily walk, breathing in the October air and taking in the sights of London. It never ceased to amaze her how much London changed weekly. She was not certain why she had sighed so broodingly, but it could be because she was exhausted from the exercise, or because she was thinking of HIM again.
At one time, her thoughts would have been plagued with John Steed, the immaculate gentleman and intellectual spy; but ever since June, it was the thought of someone else that constantly distracted her. Tara wondered if it would be prudent to tell anyone of her new fascination, or if they would think she was insane.
Sighing involuntarily, she entered her bedroom where she removed her coat with the blue, green, and yellow stripes. She flicked at an imaginary fuzz on her white, turtleneck before placing her hands on her shapely hips. Glancing at her mirror, she discovered she looked rather slim in her navy blue pants. The exercise was working wonders for her figure, not that she had needed much improvement. But due to stress she had gained several pounds that had, for almost a year, refused to budge.
"I wonder if he would like the results," she murmured to herself, her playful smile on her lips. With an outward groan she realised she had thought of HIM again. "If this keeps up I might have to seek professional help."
A knock on her front door interrupted her unpleasant musings. Almost guiltily, she answered the door, as if the person behind it had heard her meditations. Her visitor was the postman, who presented her with the bills from last month's shopping spree and a thin letter. Tara shut the door, still gazing at the note. It was from a dim-witted thug by the name of Herr Starker, right-hand man of HIM, Siegfried.
Tara ripped open the envelope in a record time. The contents were brief, but meant the world to Miss King.
Dear Tara,
Siegfried and me are in the states agan. We had bin in Burrmooda, cuz we wur hiding frum the bad police. Now we are in Washintun. Dc in a smelly hideout. I hav drewed a map so you can cum se me. It is with this note. I luv yoo, mein leibling!
Luv,
Starker Poo
A lengthy postscript filled with many clichés on finding love and losing it followed the letter. A second postscript listed Tara's many attributes, including a complete physical description that could only be labelled as, "too flattering." After a quick perusal of the letter's contents, Tara poured over the map. Despite his many spelling errors, Starker could draw a detailed map.
"I should be able to find his hideaway without any difficulties," Tara declared in raptures. Whether she was referring to Starker or his boss Siegfried was an enigma.
Her ecstasy was short-lived, for another knock on the door returned her to the real world. Hurriedly, she folded the noted and map into tiny segments, stuffed them in the band of her pants, and opened her front door. Unfortunately, the new caller was knocking her back door! Tara ran down the stairs and raced up to her back door. When she opened that door, she discovered John Steed and his wife Emma, who was holding Katie.
"Is anything wrong? Did we call at a bad time?" Emma asked politely.
Panting, Tara inquired, "What makes you think that?"
"You're very flushed and agitated, that's all." Mrs. Peel stepped over the threshold into what she considered a garish flat.
Tara giggled as she shut the door, almost catching Steed's brown coat sleeve in the process. "I just came back from a mile-long walk, and then I opened the wrong door. I had to run all the way back down the stairs just to get to you two."
"Why didn't you just ride down on your pole?" Steed nodded in the direction of a gold pole, much like the ones found in a fire station. It had been placed by the front door so Tara had an easier way of coming down to ground level.
"Look, if you came here just to interrogate me, I suggest you leave now! I am in no mood for such childish behaviour." Tara's defensive manner was enough to end the conversation.
"We just came here to ask you if you wanted to accompany us on a little trip to America," Steed explained, putting on all his charm.
Tara relaxed as she asked, "Where are we going and what's the occasion?"
"We're going to Washington D.C., and the occasion is-" Steed trailed off as he realised Miss King had bolted into her bedroom.
"I'll be packed in thirty minutes, I promise you!" she shouted from her chamber.
Mrs. Peel exchanged an amused look with her husband. Steed smiled but inwardly he was wondering why Miss Tara was so eager to accompany them.
*************
The bullets ricocheted off the stone building, the sound deafening as it reverberated through the air. Three men attired from head to toe in black were dashing around corners, firing revolvers at intervals and trying to avoid being shot by a lone man in a grey suit.
This man was hidden behind an empty crate and had beady black eyes, dark hair, and a strange grin on his face. "All right, fellas," he began in a nasal voice, "it looks like you're outnumbered." He stepped from behind his protection, his gun cocked cheekily to the right.
The three men stared at the solitary man and burst out laughing. "Really, Mr. Smart," began one of them, "What makes you think you can defeat us all?"
"Just because at this very moment, there are forty police officers surrounding this alleyway in their shiny new cars. Would you believe it, forty officers?"
"We find that hard to believe," droned the trio, as if this was an old custom.
"Would you believe fourteen cadets are on their motorcycles?" After receiving three sceptical gazes, Mr. Smart continued, "How about a house detective on a battered bicycle?"
"Grab him!" one of the men commanded.
Smart dashed behind his crate and pulled the trigger of his gun again. It seemed the fortune of the luckiest man alive had run out, for he had no bullets left. Raising his hands in surrender he stepped out from behind the box to meet the barrels of three loaded revolvers.
To Be Continued! OH NO! THE EVIL CLIFFHANGER!
Note: I have not forgotten my other story, "The Agent Test." It just seems my muse has! That's right. I'm suffering from that dreaded disease that plagues all authors at one time or another, writer's block. PLEASE be patient with me while I try to overcome this obstacle.
Another Note: This story contains SPOILERS. If you haven't read my other fics, starting with "Mother Knows Best," you might get confused.
The AVENGERS
The gentle whirring of a peculiar shaped machine was the only noise in the room. The machine had two seats, separated by a control panel filled with flashing lights, buttons, and dials. Suspended above the seats were two domes meant to be lowered over the head of the unfortunate sitter.
A man dressed in a scientist's white coat stood next to the contraption, examining it. Sewn on his coat was a vulture on a globe and the words KAOS. Off to the right of this piece of equipment was another scientist similarly dressed except minus the KAOS emblem.
The first scientist said quite earnestly, "Your machine is very impressive, Dr. Krelmar. I was surprised to learn that no one else had snatched it up before KAOS came along to buy it."
The second man, Krelmar, spoke, "Several people and organizations did try to buy my baby, but I would have none of it."
"Well, I'm glad KAOS was so convincing," the first scientist replied sardonically as he nodded towards a third man.
This man was attired in a black turtleneck, black pants, and a black leather coat. And in his hand, pressed firmly against Dr. Krelmar's temple, was a gun. "I want to see this machine in action," the third man demanded.
"Patience, Fred; you will, you will." The evil KAOS scientist smiled nefariously before shutting the machine off. "Lock up Dr. Krelmar and bring me Agents 86 and 99! We shall see who is the superior agency, KAOS, or their CONTROL!"
Fred dragged Dr. Krelmar, protesting and struggling, from the room. The KAOS scientist glanced once more at the machine and was about to leave the chamber, when the shadows of two people appeared in the door frame. "Ah! Our newest KAOS members. Have you come to inspect the machine?"
"We've seen it before, remember?" the bitter voice of a female rang out.
"We've lived it before," an insipid male voice added.
The figures stepped into the light, revealing themselves to be John Steed and Emma Peel's archenemies, Basil and Lola.
What's What???
Tara Turns to Crime
Conrad Travels the Straight and Narrow
Steed Fills Max's Shoes
Emma Becomes a Number
First Day
Mrs. Emma Steed, nee Peel nee Knight, finished washing the dishes and casually entered her living room. She wondered where her husband had disappeared to so quickly after lunch. At least her nine month-old child was right where she had left her: sprawled on a blanket, clutching a teddy bear.
"How's my Katie doing?" Emma asked as she knelt on the floor so she could be eye level with her baby.
Katie pursed her lips together, ready to speak. "*Miwee Deel*!" She pushed herself up into sitting position.
Emma was quite perplexed at what her child was saying. Katherine knew how to speak the typical words, such as *mummy*, *daddy*, and *bobba*, which could be translated either as *bottle*, or *I want any kind of food NOW*. But the statement *Miwee Deel* was utterly new to the still learning mother.
"What are you trying to say, my love?" Mrs. Steed whispered dulcetly.
Katie's large, liquid eyes were even wider as she repeated the message. Her chin was shot up almost defiantly, as if she expected her mother to understand her babble. Emma looked into those grey pools that were Katie's eyes and felt a stab of discomfort at not being able to understand her.
"Try it again, Katie dear," Emma cajoled.
This time as Katherine Tara Steed spoke, another distant voice was heard coaching her. With the two voices working together, Mrs. Steed made out, "*Miwis Peel*!"
Then she understood everything. Her husband had taught her pet name, "Mrs. Peel," to the child, probably in the same manner as you teach a parrot, and he had been the quiet voice she had just heard. "All right, Steed, where are you?" she demanded, that annoyed smirk of hers flitting across her mouth.
Before she had a chance to look for her husband, Steed popped out from behind his red leather sofa. "We're needed!"
******************
"Dr. Krelmar went missing earlier this month," Steed informed his wife as they strolled down the corridor to their superior's office.
"Wasn't he just given parole?" Emma inquired.
"Exactly, which is why we highly doubt he went into hiding to create one of his new contraptions. We strongly believe he was kidnapped."
"We?" Emma echoed.
"Didn't you know that H and I have already been over the case? He'll fill you in on all the details." Steed opened the door to a well furnished office and allowed his wife to enter first.
H was ruthless, gravely serious, and as authoritative as a boss could be. In short, he ran the M15 division like it was the military. H was often belittled by the other leaders in the agency for his strict policies. The boss of M16, M, seemed particularly adverse to H's behaviour, but no one took M seriously since he had the rowdiest spy under his jurisdiction, Agent 007.
After giving his formal "hello's, to his favourite agents, H informed Emma of the situation. "We believe that KAOS has something to do with this scheme."
"What makes you so sure?" Mrs. Steed asked, seating herself in one of the plush chairs.
"Just for the simple fact that only two people alive would be concerned over what Kremlar was doing, and these two people are suspected of having escaped from prison and joined KAOS."
Mrs. Peel gazed squarely into her superior's eyes as she questioned, "Are these two people Basil and Lola?"
"I'm afraid so," H sighed. "That is the only reason I summoned you two for the job. You are already familiar with their diabolical ways, and thus you should be able to deduce their next moves."
"At which KAOS outpost are they suspected of hiding?" Emma Peel asked.
"Evidence shows that Basil and Lola have taken refuge at the Washington D.C. branch. I have assigned you two foreign partners for this case, but I want you take backup from our own ministry as well."
Steed snapped his fingers before he declared, "Tara King will be more than eager to assist us."
"Fine, she shall accompany you two," H conceded. "You have never worked on an international level before, have you?"
"Not at this ministry, but at the other one with Mother," Steed replied.
"Well, we travelled to Germany in order to rescue Tara when she was in the clutches of that sadistic Siegfried," Emma reminded her husband.
"Do you think you'll need any more backup?" H queried the two.
"I think that with us, Miss King, and our two foreign correspondences, we will be able to work out this case in no time," Emma said confidently.
"Your plane leaves for Washington in two hours. Passports and other formalities have been taken care of. Good luck on your mission, and return home soon." H handed them two files filled with information and passports. "Who knows, if you do this well enough I might give you the honour of greeting the leader from that African country Zalania."
Silently, Emma and Steed strode to the door. Just before he exited the vicinity, Steed inquired, "Which two Americans will we have the pleasure of working with?"
"You're partners will be," H cleared his throat nervously, "the top CONTROL agents, Maxwell and Mrs. Smart."
Steed grimaced at the thought of the beady-eyed man with the annoying accent and bumbling manners. "We will never make it out of this mission alive," he muttered audibly.
Mrs. Steed laid a gentle hand on his shoulder as she whispered, tongue planted firmly in cheek, "At least he'll be wreaking havoc in his own country and not ours like last time. So even if we do not make it, at least we can be assured that Great Britain will be safe."
Steed managed to smile wryly at her remark. "Patriotism really does suit you, Mrs. Peel!" The couple marched out of the building side by side as was their normal custom.
**************
Tara King entered her massive apartment with a pensive sigh. She had been out on her daily walk, breathing in the October air and taking in the sights of London. It never ceased to amaze her how much London changed weekly. She was not certain why she had sighed so broodingly, but it could be because she was exhausted from the exercise, or because she was thinking of HIM again.
At one time, her thoughts would have been plagued with John Steed, the immaculate gentleman and intellectual spy; but ever since June, it was the thought of someone else that constantly distracted her. Tara wondered if it would be prudent to tell anyone of her new fascination, or if they would think she was insane.
Sighing involuntarily, she entered her bedroom where she removed her coat with the blue, green, and yellow stripes. She flicked at an imaginary fuzz on her white, turtleneck before placing her hands on her shapely hips. Glancing at her mirror, she discovered she looked rather slim in her navy blue pants. The exercise was working wonders for her figure, not that she had needed much improvement. But due to stress she had gained several pounds that had, for almost a year, refused to budge.
"I wonder if he would like the results," she murmured to herself, her playful smile on her lips. With an outward groan she realised she had thought of HIM again. "If this keeps up I might have to seek professional help."
A knock on her front door interrupted her unpleasant musings. Almost guiltily, she answered the door, as if the person behind it had heard her meditations. Her visitor was the postman, who presented her with the bills from last month's shopping spree and a thin letter. Tara shut the door, still gazing at the note. It was from a dim-witted thug by the name of Herr Starker, right-hand man of HIM, Siegfried.
Tara ripped open the envelope in a record time. The contents were brief, but meant the world to Miss King.
Dear Tara,
Siegfried and me are in the states agan. We had bin in Burrmooda, cuz we wur hiding frum the bad police. Now we are in Washintun. Dc in a smelly hideout. I hav drewed a map so you can cum se me. It is with this note. I luv yoo, mein leibling!
Luv,
Starker Poo
A lengthy postscript filled with many clichés on finding love and losing it followed the letter. A second postscript listed Tara's many attributes, including a complete physical description that could only be labelled as, "too flattering." After a quick perusal of the letter's contents, Tara poured over the map. Despite his many spelling errors, Starker could draw a detailed map.
"I should be able to find his hideaway without any difficulties," Tara declared in raptures. Whether she was referring to Starker or his boss Siegfried was an enigma.
Her ecstasy was short-lived, for another knock on the door returned her to the real world. Hurriedly, she folded the noted and map into tiny segments, stuffed them in the band of her pants, and opened her front door. Unfortunately, the new caller was knocking her back door! Tara ran down the stairs and raced up to her back door. When she opened that door, she discovered John Steed and his wife Emma, who was holding Katie.
"Is anything wrong? Did we call at a bad time?" Emma asked politely.
Panting, Tara inquired, "What makes you think that?"
"You're very flushed and agitated, that's all." Mrs. Peel stepped over the threshold into what she considered a garish flat.
Tara giggled as she shut the door, almost catching Steed's brown coat sleeve in the process. "I just came back from a mile-long walk, and then I opened the wrong door. I had to run all the way back down the stairs just to get to you two."
"Why didn't you just ride down on your pole?" Steed nodded in the direction of a gold pole, much like the ones found in a fire station. It had been placed by the front door so Tara had an easier way of coming down to ground level.
"Look, if you came here just to interrogate me, I suggest you leave now! I am in no mood for such childish behaviour." Tara's defensive manner was enough to end the conversation.
"We just came here to ask you if you wanted to accompany us on a little trip to America," Steed explained, putting on all his charm.
Tara relaxed as she asked, "Where are we going and what's the occasion?"
"We're going to Washington D.C., and the occasion is-" Steed trailed off as he realised Miss King had bolted into her bedroom.
"I'll be packed in thirty minutes, I promise you!" she shouted from her chamber.
Mrs. Peel exchanged an amused look with her husband. Steed smiled but inwardly he was wondering why Miss Tara was so eager to accompany them.
*************
The bullets ricocheted off the stone building, the sound deafening as it reverberated through the air. Three men attired from head to toe in black were dashing around corners, firing revolvers at intervals and trying to avoid being shot by a lone man in a grey suit.
This man was hidden behind an empty crate and had beady black eyes, dark hair, and a strange grin on his face. "All right, fellas," he began in a nasal voice, "it looks like you're outnumbered." He stepped from behind his protection, his gun cocked cheekily to the right.
The three men stared at the solitary man and burst out laughing. "Really, Mr. Smart," began one of them, "What makes you think you can defeat us all?"
"Just because at this very moment, there are forty police officers surrounding this alleyway in their shiny new cars. Would you believe it, forty officers?"
"We find that hard to believe," droned the trio, as if this was an old custom.
"Would you believe fourteen cadets are on their motorcycles?" After receiving three sceptical gazes, Mr. Smart continued, "How about a house detective on a battered bicycle?"
"Grab him!" one of the men commanded.
Smart dashed behind his crate and pulled the trigger of his gun again. It seemed the fortune of the luckiest man alive had run out, for he had no bullets left. Raising his hands in surrender he stepped out from behind the box to meet the barrels of three loaded revolvers.
To Be Continued! OH NO! THE EVIL CLIFFHANGER!
Note: I have not forgotten my other story, "The Agent Test." It just seems my muse has! That's right. I'm suffering from that dreaded disease that plagues all authors at one time or another, writer's block. PLEASE be patient with me while I try to overcome this obstacle.