Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own anything but my characters. Hanna, Mandal, LEBI, etc. Don't own Clix, either. She's HermoineGurl's. Doing a character trade thing.

A/N: Hope Agent Chlora's not a Mary Sue. Please help me if she is.

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Paranoia and Her Gun

Chapter 2

Agent Hanna Chlora paused at the entrance to the LEBI office. It was a smaller, yet relatively tall building on the southern exerts of Police Plaza. Good. The LEP ordered them to build as far away as possible because of their creepy reputation.

LEBI were only the investigators of the LEP's past suspects/scenes. As soon as the LEP threw the cases in the "Case Closed" Trashcan, the LEBI grabbed them up like a hungry hobo.

From time to time the LEBI used the LEP's forensic labs, but not often. If they bumped into each other in the hall it would be the only time the two organizations made contact.

LEBI, since they never had any real cases of their own, didn't have much work. Therefore, there was not much pay. A lazy filing job; a lame, paperback sequel to the LEP Recon.

But years ago, Chlora had been in the LEP Academy line up. Too many cadets filled the hallways that year, and cuts were made. Hanna was one of them. They had told her "she had too much spirit." A shaky shot, inability to dodge slugs, and a bad record, even rumored to have imp blood, although the Council wouldn't admit to being that prejudice. Mandal could have gotten in . . .. But he never even tried. He had gone straight to the LEBI. A fact that always mystified Hanna. Director O'Riley had welcomed Agent Birini with open arms into the LEBI. Hanna, having nowhere left to turn, reluctantly followed her friend. It was desperate times then.

So Hanna entered the world of society, even if she still was socially inept. She was an odd little creature and more than a little mean, so people in general avoided her. Fine by her. If you watched long enough however, you'd see that she loved no one but Mandal, and him only as a friend. Even if she wouldn't admit it. Still she loved torturing everyone with her creepy antics, including Mandal.

. : . : . : .

Agent Chlora slid her fingers into the print analysis security system, deathly aware of the germs crawling all over it. She would sanitize her hand when she reached her office. She thought this receptor system was overrated. Way too teched up for the LEBI. Like anyone would want to steal anything from the bureau. She slipped through the titanium doors.

Of course. Late, as usual. Perhaps if she were to sneak around, she wouldn't get caught.

"Agent Chlora!"

Perhaps not. Director O'Riley, or Agent O as the personnel had dubbed him, stepped from the shadowed foyer.

"Ah, Agent O'Reily. I was . . . I . . . Oh D'Arvit," Hanna hissed, her crumpled wings drooping to her sides. She noticed O'Riley's white crest of hair bobbing madly, quite like a cockatoo. A good joke butt had the situation not been so dire.

"'Oh D'Arvit' is quite correct, Agent Chlora."

Hanna sighed, reaching for the mesmers in her pupils. Maybe it would work this time, though she had a feeling that O'Riley knew how to avoid them. Odd . . .

"Where were you?"

"Asleep. Birini forgot to wake me up, sir," She concentrated harder, leaning forward in her effort.

The pupils dilated so that the whole eye looked almost black. The dismal lithium irises swirled restlessly, getting smaller and smaller . . .

"Don't let it . . . happen again." O'Riley felt foolish. He fumed inwardly at himself, standing cross-armed in the stuffy lobby. He knew how to avoid them, those mesmers. He was one of only several of the People that did. To hold such information meant he could give her up to them.

...

Hanna dropped her pen on the file she had been writing in, spattering black ink over late Mrs. Soil's maiden name. She cursed under her breath as she ran gloved hands over her face.

This hybrid was not meant to be locked away in the tallest level of the LEBI building. It was squashing her soul.

She was hungry, too.

Agent Chlora slipped out of the swivel chair, glancing to the door of her shabby office to make sure it was secured.

There was a shady window on the east wall of her office. It was small in size; more for ventilation than for pleasure. However, Hanna had caught herself gazing out of it at times, and jumping from it more.

Her stomach protested glumly from hunger as she walked quietly to the window. Wrenching away the discolored blinds, she cracked it open. She hushed a cough. Ah! Fresh air. Well, fresher than her office anyway. She glanced to the pane of glass by the office door on the other side of the room, to see if anyone was out there. Agent Ecel passed slowly by, stifling a yawn and clutching a fat folder. As soon as he was safely out of the way, Agent Chlora pried the window open to its full extent. She hefted herself through the yawning window and onto the metal ridge outside.

She took a rather deep breath and dove clumsily from the siding of the building.

So she couldn't fly as well, or as gracefully as other full-blooded sprites. So what? So long as she made it to the ground. Preferably in one piece.

As she came close to the ground she floated in a drunken circle, then landed with a thump on the cement. She stood, dusting herself off. Her eyes flitted around the courtyard, looking for anyone that might be watching. But she walked on, though her eyes kept flitting nervously.

Several minutes later would find Agent Chlora slamming the flat of her hand against the glass of on of the vacuum vender machines. She cursed quietly and laid her forehead against the cool safety glass of the machine with a melodramatic sigh. This happened every time; Her lichen chips had gotten lodged in such a way so that the vacuum completely missed them.

Her world came crashing down.

. : . : . : .

It was his lunch break, so Private Verbil tore his attention away from the surveillance duty in the pod at E37 (that was sarcasm), at which he'd been placed yet again, and took a gyro-cab to Police Plaza's cafeteria. It was Monday night, and if he remembered to bring the LEP update bulletin that was sent out every Sunday, he'd get half off of lunch. That, to him, was the sole purpose for the bulletin.

Never could one understand actually how boring being in a surveillance pod, and to make matters worse, with Grub Kelp, whom Chix suspected was gay, for five whole hours. And more to come. Food and women were the only things that shone light on his situation, and he could find both at the cafeteria.

Chix made his way slowly across the courtyard leading up to the cafeteria. He yawned and looked tiredly around, rubbing the sore place between his yellow eyes. Something caught his gaze, and his brow furrowed a little.

There was a small creature pounding the glass of a vending with her hands and growling angrily. Indubitably, the sprite thing was a female, so Chix walked up to it. Something about the air of frustration around the creature struck the private as familiar.

He got close enough to the vending machine to see the reflection of the vexed fairy in the safety glass. He glimpsed her eyes first, which were indecipherable between pitch black or lithium white. Either way you went, they were a bit alarming.

"Hey," Chix began, running a hand through his hair. Something about this girl attracted him to her. She wasn't pretty, and her eyes weren't big and blue like Lili Frond's, but something about her distant eyes allured him. "Aren't you that lady who attacked me today?"

The bleached face in the reflection showed no sign in change of emotion. She turned on her heel to face the private. Well, not really faced, as she was a bit on the short side. Her underdeveloped wings rose her quickly so that they were face to face. Chix peered into drab glaring eyes that he still couldn't distinguish between black or white.

"Yes. And I suppose you still want my name?"

Chix ignored that. Instead he handed her something.

"You dropped this," He croaked flatly, his dry lips curling into a smile. He saw a momentary flash of something in her lithium colored eyes, the maniacal false luster that veiled them; made them seem more appealing than they really were. Private Verbil didn't know yet, but there was a pestilential secret that lay hidden in the depths of those lucent eyes.

"Oh," She muttered dryly. Her hand played fondly over the can of pepperspray, as if she'd found an old friend. "Thanks."

Chix reluctantly broke eye contact, giving the stubborn machine a little shake, which caused the lichen chips to jump free. Hanna was quick to snatch the bag up.

"Thanks," She said, then turned to leave,, but Chix laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. She shrugged it off with a scowl that made her eyebrows almost touch. The maniacal glint returned to her eyes.

"I'm Chix Verbil," He nodded his head towards the huge LEP building. "I'm a private, up at Recon. I used to be a luteniant, , but now I'm --"

"Please spare me the history lesson, Mr. Verbil, because, frankly, I couldn't care less."

The remark barely stung Chix at all, he'd heard much of that sort from Captain Short.

"Sorry," He laughed a little, running a gloved hand through his dark green hair. "So," He looked around, and saw that sprite-looking fairy was ready to leave. "What do you do?"

"Well, let's see. I do what every other normal fairy does. I get up late, I go to work late, I get yelled at by my boss, I sit in my office pretending to be working every time he walks by--" Chix gave a hearty laugh, but could tell that she was telling the truth from the stony study etched upon her face.

"No, really, what do you do . . . you know, as a job?"

"I work at that building in the back that none knows about. The LEBI." She sighed. Actually, Chix did know of that place. Commander Root had sent him to do some filing there once. And the other day his sister had mentioned something about the LEBI, but he hadn't been listening.

"And your name is . . .?" Chix prompted.

Hanna left without another word.