OA: Operation Alien

by monkeyshavegoodideas2

rated for language A playoff Men In Black. Men In Black was stupid. Adults mess everything up! So then I got an awesome idea: What if KIDS sis this?

Disclaimer: I do not own Men In Black. I do, however, own the idea for Jason, Jay, Kay, and Mindwork. (Jay is my boyfriend's name and Kay is my name. So. . .I didn't cop their names it's just sorta freaky we have the same ones. . .)

It was a normal day. A day that had a brilliant sun shining and the wind just perfect. And yet, in other ways, it was not "normal".
But what is "normal"? The American Heritage DICTIONARY of the English Language clearly states that normal is:
normal 1. Conforming, adhering to, or constituting a usual or typical pattern, level, or type; usual; typical.
That doesn't mean "normal" is what you're used to. In fact for the OA agents, "normal" is fighting aliens 24/7 and having no connections with any humans but themselves and their partners.
Such was true for Agent Jay. He worked alone, preferably, even though the boss constantly harried after him to get a partner.

The OA agents wore working clothes. Clothes they could get dirty and basically replace. Agent Jay always wore torn jeans and a t-shirt reading: If I can't read your mind, you're an alien.
That was his favorite shirt. And it was true. All OA agents were forced to learn the arts of Mindwork. Mindwork was a dangerous art used to modify people's minds.
Agent Jay, a small American boy by the age of 12, had light brown hair and faded blue eyes that bored into you. His eyes, in fact, were the specially needed ones to perfect Mindwork. In his back pocket, he ha a gun. Not just any gun, but a small, portable, G4xC3-Juvinator.
It was his favorite weapon.

Agent Jay was running madly down the street. He leapt into the air and somersaulted over a car. People stared. He had no time to modify their memory. Running like the wind, he reached the State Park. There, in the middle of the fountain, was a lily pad. This might've seemed strange to other people, but not to Jay. Concealing his gun in his hand, he moved over and nudged the lily pad with his foot. Out of it sprung a tall, slimy, wet, ugly worm with a thousand bony arms. A Gragitorn Worm. Its head was small with five huge eyes divided into smaller eyes. It had no nose and no mouth, but it had a tongue, with rather sharp teeth on it, on the top of its head.
Now, Jay knew he wasn't supposed to harm the creature, but he also knew if he didn't, it would start devouring humans. "Hey! Hey, you over-sized grub! Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' bout! Turn your slimy ass around!"
The worm swiveled about and stared at Jay. "See my friend here?" Jay shoved the gun closer to the worm. "You want to add laZer ammo to the humans in your belly?"
The worm backed off. "Now, I need you to accompany me, okay?" he called up. "So, lay your ugly head right here," Jay growled, "and we'll be on our way. The worm lay down obediently and Jay snapped an electronic collar around its neck. The collar transported the worm instantly to OA headquarters.
Jay looked at the big mess he had gotten himself into. Humans stared at him from behind every rock they could find. Sighing, Jay lashed out his Mindwork power and wrapped the people who had seen him do this stunt in a large net. He modified their memory and then gave them a new one. "There was no 18-foot tall alien," Jay sighed, uninterestedly. "Instead, it was a short tornado that suddenly appeared by a freak of nature that took the shape of a worm and then, just as suddenly, disappeared. There is no need to alert the authorities, they have already taken care of it. There is no need to worry your spouses, and it is best you leave this information alone and forgotten."
He let loose their minds and teleported back to headquarters by pressing a button on his watch.

"Jay! Jay!"
Jay closed his eyes in pain and grimaced. He recognized that voice.
"Jay! What is the big idea of giving chase in public? You know we don't do that."
"Boss, it's okay, man. I took care of it. All their memories have been modified."
Sighing in exasperation, the Boss said, "Jay, you really ought to start following OA policy."
"One day, I promise I will," Jay grinned.
The Boss, who was a girl at age 14, was tall, strong, and slender. Her hair bounced about and Jay thought she looked cute when she was angry. He wanted to talk to someone about it; ask them what they thought, but he knew almost no one. Basically he knew only their names so he could assign orders to them. But there was no partners out there for him, he assured himself. No one was like him in the least.
"I got two things I want you to do, Jay." Said the Boss.
"Just two?" he asked lightly.
"Well, four, but there's no way you'll do the first two."
"I'll be the judge of that. Let's hear them."
"Well, I want you to follow OA policy -"
"Nix that one."
"- and get a vacation."
"Okay, I might do that one. Now what are the ones you think I can do for you?"
"Well, 1, interrogate the worm you just caught -"
"No problem," Jay smirked confidently.
"- and the other, I'll tell you later."
"Sure, Boss. Let's get a move on, shall we?"

"Okay worm, we'll take it from the top. You are from planet Gragit, correct?"
The worn shook its head.
"No, huh?" Jay sighed in mock annoyance. "My pleasant little machine, here, tells me that's a lie."
"The worm stared at the device. Defeated, it bobbed its head.
"Okay. Do you have a language?"
The worm nodded.
"What is it?"
The worm began to speak in odd growls, clicks, and screeches.
"LaGragitian?" Jay asked. "That's fine." Jay switched his Translator to LaGragitian.
"You have a name?"
"Knarl-Go-Ten," the creature replied in its language, but this time, Jay could understand it completely.
"Uh-huh . . . and do you have a nickname?"
"GoTen."
"Okay, then, GoTen, will you care to explain to me why you landed in a restricted area with a restricted vehicle?"
"I . . . I heard Earth was lovers' first choice."
"Holy shit, you got a wife?"
"No, a lover."
"'Lover', 'wife', what-fuckin'-ever!" Jay snarled. The point is: you brought yourself and your 'lover' to make children."
"That was the basic idea."
"But you weren't allowed!" Jay yelled exasperatedly. "So, not only will you have a fine for being here without permission and the fine for being in a restricted area, you will have the fine for bringing your wife with you-who also wasn't allowed-and the fine for intending to breed without an OA agent's 'ok'! Whoo, you owe us a lot, man."
GoTen grumbled a bit.
"Man, how else do you think we keep this organization running? Church donations?"
The worm fidgeted and started digging in pockets of flesh.
"Mmp. Urrgh," Jay tried not to throw up. "You can pay me later, dude. For the moment: Where the hell is your wife?"
"It was a one-passenger ship."
"I know that GoTen but, apparently, your wife came with. So? Where you hiding her?"
Shuddering uncomfortably, the alien took a deep breath and threw up.
Jay jumped back. "Dammit, that was my favorite shirt you slimy bas-"
Jay stopped in amazement; GoTen had thrown up his wife.
"I had swallowed her to make the trip easier."
"You swall-" he stopped his self and shook his head in incredulity.
No wonder the worm had seemed fatter than normal. Jay shook his head again. "Okay man. You and your wife get your asses down to the Fine Desk and I'll be with you in a moment."

When they arrived at the Fine Desk, Jay was chewing on a pencil, lost in thought. "Okay, that's four offenses to Earth, what do you claim about it?"
"Not guilty," growled GoTen at the same time his wife said, "Guilty."
"Just go along-it'll be easier," hissed the worm's wife.
"Okay, then, admittance to guilt: the cost of those offenses rounds to about 15 Gragitorn dollars."
"15!" exclaimed GoTen. He cursed wildly in his language as he placed the money down.
"Okay, I'll need both your names, just for the record, and if you have one more offense we're hauling your ass down to jail."
"Wha-"
"Buddy, I don't make the rule. 3 offenses: probation. 5: jail. You're going to be on probation for about a year and a half. Now, if it's not too much trouble: names!"
"I'm Knarl-Go-Ten. My lover is Knarl-Fen-Sha."
"Okay. Former occupation?" Jay asked as he scribbled their names down.
"Umm . . ."
"None," FenSha said quickly.
"And, lastly, former residence?"
"We lived at Hunston Park, 5th street, the turnabout."
"Good. Good. Now you run along to the Registration line, people."
The worms, grumbling, slid away.

"Hello, sir. Fine day in the galaxy?" the 9 year old agent behind the computer squeaked.
"Terrible. Nova storms everywhere."
"I'm sorry, sir," the agent sighed as he typed out the figgin's registration.
"Sure you are, you bastard," laughed the figgin.
"Okay, I have your name, former occupation, your number of offenses, and your former residence. The second part of registration is the routine part. Can you work with that?"
"What is it?"
"You can't go outside at night, so get a job with a daylight shift, you must wear this humanoid cloak at all times you are within presence of humans, and you are restricted to the Austin area."
"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. I can live by that," the figgin laughed, stuffing the humanoid cloak around him. The portly, demon-eyed, eleven-eared, 5 foot tall figgin instantly turned into a portly blonde, bushy haired and bearded male human with glasses.
"Okay, sir, sign here."
Fewer aliens stood in the other line. The worms slimed their way onto that line.
When it came their turn, a black, 11 year old agent behind the computer took almost the same information as Jay had.
"Names?"
"Knarl-Go-Ten and Knarl-Fen-Sha," GoTen muttered.
"Former occupation?"
"None."
"Number of offenses?"
"Four."
The agent stared at them over his sunglasses. "Okay . . . former residence?"
"We lived at Hunston Park, 5th street, the turnabout."
"Okay, place of vacation?"
"Vacation?" FenSha asked, surprised.
"Yeah, this is the vacation line, Ma'am."
"We want to live on Earth!"
"That's the other line, then, Ma'am," the agent replied, pointing to the long line of aliens. "Best you go get in line now before more resident aliens come."
Jay, smiling, had overheard. He led the aliens to the other line and took the Gragitorn money to the office. 'Resident alien'? How true that was . . .
Agents were required to use the word 'resident alien' for the aliens. They had assured the aliens it meant someone from out of town. Aliens didn't think of themselves as aliens. They were the ones who had galactic treaties with so many alien countries and worlds. They were the ones who knew technology far beyond he reaches of humans. Humans still had treaties only with their own world. So "immature", the aliens had called it. So "young" and "inexperienced".
Humans were the aliens.
This piece of logic amused Jay. Amused him to think that all these humans thought that they were at the top of the food chain. That they went running around their daily lives, never stopping to think, 'Is there anything out there? Is there something smarter than us? Something larger and more powerful than us?'
He slapped the money on the office desk.
The boss smiled. "Thanks. You set that worm up?"
"No, I set those two worms up," Jay corrected.
"Two?"
"Mmm-hmm. The son of a bitch swallowed his wife to fly down here unnoticed."
"It didn't work."
"No, it didn't."
"So, go ahead over to Herb's and get those turned into Earth dollars. They're useless if they're not human."

That was another piece of logic that amazed him. There were so many alien worlds out there. They accepted all other sorts of alien money. They didn't have to change them or exchange them; they knew what it was worth and paid the person fairly. Here on Earth, nobody could accept each other's money. That would be accepting that there were people different than themselves out there. Humans didn't like different.
"Hey, agent Jay. Find yourself a partner?"
"Not yet, Herb."
"Oh. I assumed as much."
"Turn these into Human will you?" Jay asked, tossing the money onto the counter of the pawnshop.
"Mmh-mm." Herb studied the bills. "You got some money here, Jay." He hit the button and the cash register dinged open. There were all sorts of bills in there, from the Intergalactic Royal to the Gragitorn. "Each Gragitorn is worth at least $360, Jay. You got yourself $5,400 right here."
"That's great. That money can go to newer weapons instead of this outdated junk."
"I'll give you a super-deal-discount anytime, Jay," Herb grinned as he handed him the money. You've kept my name in those 'Earth Brochures' you made, right?"
"Of course, Herb. No one else on earth can exchange money like you can."
"Thanks." Herb didn't pick up well on sarcasm.
"No prob," Jay said casually as he headed out of the pawnshop.

"$5,400?" the Boss cried happily. "Oh! Jay, I could kiss you!"
"Please don't," he mumbled.
"What was that?"
"I said, 'what was that other thing you needed?'"
"Hmm? Oh, yes. I need you to get a partner."
"What?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"What?"
"Yes, Jay. It's OA policy and if you don't . . . I have to boot you off the OA organization and Mindwork your brain."
"Dammit," he whispered.
"Jay, don't make me mad," the Boss said kindly. "You need a partner."
"I don't need anything," spat Jay angrily.
"I need you to take some vacation time, Jay," the Boss said fervently. "While you're having that time, I'd suggest you find a partner." She walked him to the door of her office. "Otherwise you can forget about coming back to OA headquarters."
The automatic doors closed in his face.

In annoyance Jay walked down to the agent dorms and into the boys' common room.
"Hi, Jay."
"Hello, Jay."
"Yo, man."
He exchanged 'hi's and dropped on the couch.
"What's eating you, Jay?" his personal robot rolled out of his dorm.
"Nothin' man. You made cookies today?"
"Yes, Jay," the robot replied mechanically. "Chocolate drop cookies; your favorite."
He walked into his room. "Thanks, pal." He plugged the robot into the wall.
"Snooze mode," came the robot's voice.
He closed his door and stuffed some cookies into his mouth. He got undressed and put on his pajamas. Laying in bed, he thought quietly of how he would find a partner.
His dorm-mate came in. "Hello, Jay," he squeaked in his always-whiny voice.
"Hi, Jason, what's up?"
"Oh, nothing much. A little earlier, in Ozone Cleansing Duty I thought I spotted a rip in the second layer, but it was a crack in my screen. Talk about a shocker!"
OCD. Ozone Cleansing Duty. That class was for the 'babes', as OA personnel called them. 'Wet-behind-the-ear'. They knew nothing of the OA dangers; they had just come into the organization and didn't even know what a Stunneralizer was. And it was for nerds. There were two classes that newbies can go into training for when they first enter the OA organization: Robot Duty and OCD. Robot Duty was sort of fun; taking care of the robots and remodeling them. OCD was just plain geeky.
Jason always annoyed Jay. "Right, Jason, 'a shocker'."
Jason giggled a bit at what he thought was a hilariously funny joke he made himself, then shuffled into the bathroom to dress and brush his teeth.
Typical Jason. Still following his mom's orders, even after he had cut all ties with her. He kept a picture of her. Babyish, Jay called it. Jason goes to sleep by 9:00pm and wakes up and 8:00am. He won't eat junk food. He never watches movies that have ratings he's not allowed to watch. He always brushes his teeth and combs his hair. And he always, always, eats his veggies. What a mama's boy.
"Could you tuck me in, Jay?"
"Tuck yourself in," Jay replied, laying back down and getting ready to dream of his two-week vacation.
"But it's not the same."
"Jason, we've been through this every night: You do not need your mother anymore. For god's sake, you are eleven years old. Pull yourself together. I can not, will not, tuck you in."
"What was that?" Jason whined. "I couldn't hear you. Would you please raise your head so you're not talking into your pillow?"
"What did I say to you yesterday?"
"What? I can't hear you!"
"WHAT DID I SAY TO YOU YESTERDAY?!!" bellowed Jay.
"Oh. You said: 'Jason, we've been through this every night: You do not need your mother anymore. For god's sake, you are eleven years old. Pull yourself together. I can not, will not, tuck you in', right?"
"YES," he shouted through the pillow.
"Oh, fine," sighed Jason as he tried as best he could to tuck himself in.

Jay woke up, the next day, groggy. Jason was wide awake, dressed, and annoyingly excited. "Hi, hi, hi, Jay."
Jay didn't answer. He pulled his feet over to the side of his bed so that they dangled two inches from the ground. He could tell the ground was going to be cold this morning.
He stood up on his bed and deftly jumped to Jason's, and jumped into the bathroom, landing on the rug. He didn't have to touch the freezing floor once.
After getting dressed and waking his face up by splashing it with cold water, he went out into the boys' common room. Everyone said hi; Jay was an OA legend. Unfortunately, that meant Jason worshipped him.
"Vacation time, Jay," a black boy Jay's age grinned.
He nodded, though it was more of a statement than a question. "You guys may not believe this," Jay laughed nervously, "but I have never taken a vacation; do you guys know where the vacation desk is?"
"Sure," a pipsqueak eagerly exclaimed. "Down the elevator. Sixth floor. Down the hall. Left and another left. Two rights and one more and there you are."
Jay took this all in and moved towards the elevator.
"You want me to help you?"
"Umm, no thanks," Jay said. "I'm fine."
"The name's Harold!" the pipsqueak called after him as the elevator doors closed.

"Vacation, Agent Jay?"
"Yes," he squinted at her nametag, "Agent Sharon."
She blushed. "Call me Shar."
"Oookay," Jay said, staring at her strangely.
"Desk jobs are so boring. I want some action," Sharon stamped his slip. "All weapons go here," she held out a basket with his name on it.
He dumped his weapons in.
"Tell that to the boss, though. Just because I'm new, doesn't mean I can't handle what the pros handle."
"Sure," he said, nodding his head. "I mean, of course you could."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Well, you're ready to go. Just sign here."
He signed.
"Out those doors, Agent Jay," Sharon sighed.
"Bye, Shar."
She giggled and blushed. As he left, he caught her waving at him.
"That girl likes you," the agent at the door grinned. "All she talks about is 'Jay, Jay, Jay'. 'He never has a vacation!' 'What if I never meet him?'" the boy mimicked.
"Shut up, Greg," mumbled Jay.
"Have a good vacation, Jay!"
"Thanks," he called back.

Jay did have a good time. He needed it. He mingled with people, playing with them, but never making friends. He ate pizzas instead of steak day in and day out like they serve at headquarters. He had ice cream instead of flaky pastries that taste awful and stick to your mouth like the headquarters serves. On his last day, he sat on a bench in the park and stared at the stars.
He remembered the OA.
Work.
Those stars weren't stars; they were planets.
Partner.
If he didn't have one tomorrow, he'd be fired.
And what was he doing instead? Sitting on his butt and staring at stars.
He stared some more.
"Hi."
"Hello-" he paused and turned around to see who was talking to him. For a moment, he thought he was back in the common room, agents saying 'hi' everywhere he went.
He wasn't an agent in this place.
"I heard you mumbling about 'planets'. Are you okay?"
He tried to see the outline of who had spoken to him.
"Do you believe in planets? I do." Laughter bubbles. It belongs to a girl. "I know it seems strange, but I do."
"I do too," he says quietly.
"You do?"
"No, I don't actually. I know there are planets."
He can almost hear her smiling.
"Want to come back to my place?"
"Sure."
"What's your name?"
"Jay."
"Kay."
"They rhyme," Jay said, partly to himself.
She laughs. "They do!"
He stood up and she grabbed his hand. "Come on, my home's this way!"
Jay beamed. He had just found his partner.

"That's just too weird."
Jay sipped his root beer. "It's true, though."
"Why'd you tell me?"
"Because . . ," he had wanted to say 'because I need you to be my partner', but his words had gone astray. "Because I like you."
Kay looked at him in mingled surprise and pleasure.
Jay turned pink. "I-I mean . . . aww, shit."
Kay laughed. "Thanks. I like you too. Well, you're going to have to kill me now, aren't you?"
"No."
"No?"
"Well, I need a partner. OA policy. It-it would mean a lot to me if you . . . if you became my partner."
Kay looked thoughtful. "Okay, Jay, where's the catch?"
"Catch? No catch."
"There must be."
"Do you have a dad?"
"No."
"A mom?"
"No."
"A relative you're living with?"
"Mmm, yeah, my Aunt Clarabelle. She doesn't know I'm here, though."
Jay stared at her in confusion.
"I mean, she forgets who I am. So I stay out of her way in fear that she'll call the police or something."
"Well then, no catch."
It was Kay's turn to gaze at him in puzzlement.
"Well, you have to cut all ties with any human being you once knew; you were never here."
"I was never here in the first place."
"Exactly."
"When do you go back?"
"Tomorrow."
"You can sleep here tonight."
"Thanks, Kay."
She stood up. "You're welcome," she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing tightly. Then, she lightly kissed him on the head. "This is where you'll sleep."
As she left the room, Jay stared in amazement after her. He touched his head. It felt all tingly.
Shaking his head he talked to himself while he cleaned up the ziti and root beer cans. "You amateur. You're letting a little kiss get to your head. It doesn't mean anything."
The room was cleaned and he had still not managed to convince himself that the kiss meant nothing.
"Sleep," he said warily. "That'll clear my mind."

"You have it bad," he told himself in the mirror of the bathroom the next morning. "I'm only twelve, for god's sake!"
He bashed his head against the mirror before remembering that they weren't really 'there' to Aunt Clarabelle.
Kay strode in. "Jay! What's all this racket?!"
"'M sorry," he murmured. "I forgot."
"Are you this loud at the . . . the headquarters thingie?"
"Only on bad mornings," he sighed.
Her eyes softened. "I'm sorry, are you having a bad morning?"
"Umm," he wasn't sure how quite to answer.
She didn't wait for one.
"I'll make you some hot chocolate. You like marshmallows?"
"Y-yeah," he admitted, absently.
"Great," she grinned, and headed down the stairs.
"You're acting like a babe, Jay. A newbie," he scolded himself as he followed her down the stairs. "Get over it and move on."
But he couldn't.
Damn, he hated himself.
As they sipped hot chocolate on the top of Kay's grandmother's house, Jay couldn't help but think of how magical this was. The sun shone so brightly, even though it was barely over the horizon.

The house top was flat, and Kay had a small glass table in the middle of it. On it rested doughnuts and cookies to dip in their hot chocolate.
They sat across from each other; Jay couldn't stop staring at Kay's eyes. Like a black hole, they sucked him in, a riveting green. Her lashes long . . . his hand instinctively went out to touch hers, and she didn't flinch.
A good sign, right?
He sipped his hot chocolate and scooted his chair closer to hers. "So, how old are you?"
"Do I have to be a certain age or something to enter this secret organization?"
"Umm, no, 'm just curious. . ."
She scooted her chair closer to his. "Eleven and a half."

They moved closer.
And closer.
Jay saw something.
"Do . . . do you sleep up here?"
That ruined the mood. He instantly regretted it as she drew away from him. She turned to look at her sleeping bag in the corner of the roof.
"Yeah. . ," she mumbled, turning pink. "What's it to you?"
"Well, how come I got . . . a room?"
"Because you're a guest."
"You could've slept with me."
As she turned to stare at him in horror, he realized what his words had morphed into; what they had sounded like.
"Umm," he blushed a brilliant crimson, hoping the red rays of the sun would hide it. "Umm," he stuttered. "I mean . . . you could've slept . . . in the room with me . . . y'know . . ," he trailed off, not knowing how to correct his fumble.
"So," she said, coldly changing the subject, "when are we going to this OA thing?"
"If you're ready? Now."
She softened. "Okay." She offered him her arm. He took it and couldn't resist the temptation of deeply inhaling her "scent". She smelled good, like honey with a tinge of vanilla. He clutched her arm tightly without noticing until they had climbed down the fire escape.
"Umm, you can . . . let go now."
"Uhh, yeah . . ," he found it hard to unclench his arm.
She smiled at him . . . adoringly? gratefully?
His face felt hot. "Yeah . . ."
She giggled.
"We gonna walk?"
"Nope," he smirked. "Drive."
"Drive?" she asked unbelievingly.
"Yep," he reached in his pocket and pressed a blue button on a red keychain. Two minutes later a red sports car slid up to the sidewalk.
"Nice," Kay grinned.
He sat in the driver's seat and patted the seat next to him. "You want to ride shotgun?"
"Umm, sure."
He handed her a folder. "Fill out that paperwork before we reach headquarters."
She looked around, then stared at him. "You're going to drive?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
"Do you know how?"
"Umm," he paused, not wanting to admit he'd never had a lesson in his life. "Sure, of course I do."
She yielded, and he put in the keys.
After four minutes, Kay interjected, "You're turning the keys the wrong way."
"Oh," he laughed uneasily, and turned the keys the correct way. "One of those new models . . ," he mumbled, trying to cover his gaffe.

They pulled up to the large building. The sign read, 'Designers Decoration' with two huge 'D's overlapping.
"A designing company?" Kay asked.
"Yes, and everything is overpriced, so no one buys and no one really investigates," Jay replied.
"Ah," Kay said quietly.
The garage rolled open. Jay couldn't help but feel pleased at the wonder on Kay's face as she saw all the cars lined up and down the floor, ceiling, and walls. "The inside is even cooler."
She looked at him, then beamed. "I can't wait!"
After they parked the car (somewhere on the ceiling, which led to a complicated conversation about the grip-tires the cars were built with), Jay took Kay's hand and led her inside.
"Jay!" a strict voice rang out, loud and clear. "You're fifteen minutes late! Haul your ass down to the managing room."
"And a 'good morning' to you too, Boss," Jay teased.
The Boss smiled at that, but chose not to reply; instead, she asked, "Would you mind telling me why you were fifteen minutes late?"
"We were having breakfast," Jay shrugged.
"'We'?" the Boss said bewildered.
"Kay and I," Jay grinned, dragging the awed Kay in front of him.
"Good morning . . . Kay, was it?" the Boss had a strained smile on her face. "This is your partner?" she whispered to Jay.
"Yeah?"
"Well, she's a . . . a girl."
"So are you," he observed.
"That's not what I meant; I'm sure she's capable but, Jay, partners . . . sleep in the same room."
"Well?"
"Well, it's not proper!"
"Sure, it's proper . . . it's not like we're going to have sex, or something."
The Boss turned pink. "I didn't mean it that way, Jay. I know you . . . two . . . are responsible but-"
Kay interrupted their hushed argument. "This is awesome, Jay!"
"Yeah, well, tell it to the people who designed it," he smiled. "I had nothing to do with the way it was built."
"Did you see that?" whispered the Boss.
"See what?" Jay turned, his agent skills alert.
"She just hit on you!"
"Wha-?" Jay turned pink himself. "She did not!"
"Oh, yes she did."
Jay tried to think of a reason that the Boss was giving him such a hard time.
"Boss? Are you threatened by her?"
"What? Me? Never!" the Boss's face went aflame and she turned away. "Go to the managing room, Jay," she said icily. "And take your 'partner' with you."

Jay led Kay to the managing room. "Do you know how to fight?" He tossed her some dirty clothes.
"Umm, I watch the Judo classes sometimes," Kay pondered, "but not really, no."
"You know how to shoot a gun?" he asked, tossing her one.
"Umm, yes?"
"Was that a good yes or a bad one?"
"A good one. I think."
Jay looked at her. "Well, change into those clothes."
"Here?" Kay squeaked.
"No, there." Jay pointed to the bathroom.
A minute later she came out in a white t-shirt that read, 'I'm with stupid' and an arrow pointing to her right. Jay had given her faded light blue jeans with holes at each knee.
"Okay, I gave your paperwork to the Boss and you are now officially my partner. You hold the gun like this and press the button on the top to shoot. There are 2 settings: Standard and Maulation. Keep it on Standard. We got to go; there's a mission on 7 and 8th block."
"What's the Boss's real name?" Kay asked as they started running towards the block.
"Umm, she doesn't like it much."
"Please, Jay?"
He grinned.
"Okay, it's Jubbie; but you didn't hear it from me."
Laughing, they made it to 7 and 8th block together.

"That was good for a first mission," Jay was telling Kay as he went towards the dorms.
"Thanks," she smiled. "It was pure instinct and luck-I had no idea what I was doing."
He stopped, remembering they had not quite worked out the details of the rooming. "Could you wait here for a sec?"
"Sure."
Jay walked to the other side of the boys' common room. He flipped open his cell phone and called the Boss.
"What is it, Jay?" the Boss sounded aggravated and upset.
"Have . . . did we work out the rooming, yet?"
"Yes, Jay, we did. She is to sleep with you, like all partners do. Jason has been moved to another room. All his paraphernalia has been removed from the room. You are to be . . . responsible, you hear me?"
"Of course, Boss. I don't know why you're all worked up!"

END CHAPTER 1

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