Disclaimer to the Mary Sue Classifications list for the reference used in this chapter.

Chapter 4

Sam held Jackie's mismatched stare, struggling very hard to keep her cool. Her fists were clenched and pressed almost painfully hard into her sides and she could feel her lower lip twitching. She wanted answers!

With a quiet sigh, the redhaired woman moved over to the bed and sat down. She patted the duvet next to her and offered a smile.

"This might take a while, and I doubt you're used to shoes without a three-inch heel yet."

Sam kept standing. She didn't want to be distracted.

"What's going on?" She repeated, less instantly this time, "Where am I? Who are you all? What-?"

"Whoa!" Jackie held up her hands in front of her face, expression one of mock horror, "Slow down, I only have one pair of lips! Right," she patted the bed again, "Please sit down? Seriously, I know what I'm doing, it helps."

Somewhat reluctantly, Sam nodded and moved over. She dropped down onto the bed as far away from the older woman as possible whilst still occupying the same furniture, and eyed her warily. Something in the back of her mind had calmed down enough to note that Jackie presented a far more…groomed appearance than many of the women she'd seen so far. The brilliant red hair was short and carefully styled, her clothing well fitted and simple. She was also the only person Sam had seen so far that was actually wearing nail polish, in a smooth black that matched her equally dark attire. For a moment the second pile of clothes available earlier flashed up in her mind and Sam couldn't help but glance over at the dresser.

Jackie noticed the stare, followed it, then grinned again.

"No, that stuff isn't mine."

Sam suddenly turned back; wondering if she'd just made a mistake.

"I didn't-"

"Don't worry," she waved a hand, "I'm used to the comparison. Usually happens when I get to the 'try and avoid dressing, acting in any way or continuing any hobbies that may be prone to aggravate your Sue' part of this talk. Well, I used to dress like an explosion in a ketchup factory, so a little of No.7 black is permissible."

"Oh." Sam paused, and then something Jackie had just said twanged at her mind. One of the Questions swirling around her brain was suddenly thrust to the front and she couldn't stop herself from blurting it out.

"What d'you mean 'your Sue'? I thought…I thought everyone was…"

"Right," Jackie settled back, "Jackie's Big Book of Bizarreness, Section one – Mary-Sues, their nature and habit. You're right in one respect, you have a Sue. I have, Kate has, Richard has, although Gary-Stu is used for the male version, everyone here has a Sue. But no one in the Terrace is a Sue. You," she gently poked Sam in the forehead, "are you, your Self. The bit that isn't Sue, and that's the bit we're interested in."

Sam blinked.

"I don't-"

"We don't really know what Sues are," Jackie continued without even acknowledging the break in conversation, "Well, not entirely true I guess. You do see them, sometimes, very briefly at the end of a sporking when the host body dies. You've seen the smoke?"

She didn't need clarification of that. The memories that involved the greasy, grey-brown fog stuck out clearly in her mind, even in the blurred areas. Jackie caught the slight nod and reached out gently, tracing the puncture wounds down Sam's neck.

"It's like Sue blood. This'll have billowed when it was done. You see it when the Sue itself is hurt and that doesn't happen unless it's in full control, fighting back or exposed. We've only ever seen one able to exist independently of a host."

"When you say host…" Sam asked nervously and couldn't stop her brain throwing up thoughts of tapeworms. Jackie gave a tight smile.

"Yeah, I mean this," she tapped her chest, "The form you find one in. Sometimes it's nothing more than an organic shell, no Self, nothing beyond the Sue, but sometimes there's another personality in there. That'd be you and me. We're not sure if the Self is some leftover from a person the Sue took over or not – they can do that, we've seen a few direct infestations, but more usually there's no record of the individual before the Sue appears. It's impossible to predict if there is anything more, you need to engage directly. That's what the Terrace is for. We hunt Sues, bring in the ones with a residual and neutralise the ones without."

There was silence for a moment as Jackie stopped talking, giving Sam time to take in what she'd just said. Sam used the time to gawk at her. This was…this was…

Believable, actually. The yawing gap of confusion in her mind was hardly being filled by the summarised answers, but there were at least some hints of what she was looking for. Jackie caught her gaze.

"A lot huh?"

"Um…yeah…"

The older woman grinned.

"Tell me about it. I'm one of the lucky ones; I didn't get all this in one massive chunk. Tell you what; you ask me any burning questions, then we'll take a break and see if we can start getting you settled in. I don't want to tell you everything in one go; it'll be too much. So," she folded her hands and pointed them at Sam, looking down at her as if over invisible glasses, "Go."

"Er…" It wasn't that she had nothing to ask. Narrowing it down to discrete questions was the tricky part. She took a few calming breaths.

"Okay," here goes, "When…when Richard, um, picked me up, he…he seemed surprised I hadn't interacted yet. What did he mean?"

Jackie tapped her fingers together thoughtfully.

"You didn't speak to anyone?"

"No."

"Then he was probably surprised because for once it made his job easier," Jackie grinned at Sam's surprised blink, "Yeah, I read the report. Compared to some of the things he's seen, you were easy, kid."

For some bizarre reason, Sam found herself feeling mildly offended.

"Why is that easier?"

"Because no one on the Station would have been able to see you."

Sam stared at her. She ran the sentence through her mind a few times, but it didn't miraculously start making any more sense.

"Er…say that again?"

"No one could see you," Jackie's grin widened, "It's weird, but until a Sue Interacts, to the rest of canon they don't exist. We can see them because a Sue can sense another, so if you let the Sue into your eyes, it'll show you."

"But someone saw us!" A memory rose across Sam's mind, one she'd almost forgotten in the wake of everything else that had happened, "I…I didn't see who, but someone was shooting at me! Richard sa-" She stopped, a weird jolt running through her. She hadn't realised…but it was painfully obvious now.

'Who'd you think was trying their hardest to spork you to the train? You're damn lucky I'm fast, girl!'

Richard…had saved her life…

Jackie leaned forward, her mismatched stare glittering with a sudden intensity.

"Believe me, kid," she said softly, "You're not the only one."

More silence.

"Who were they?" Sam asked quietly, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. Jackie sat back again and breathed out, sweeping a hand through her shock of hair.

"Small, rather obscure branch of the Ministry that've gotten a lot more funding recently. They've known about Sues for a long time, but the last few years they've actually formed a specific division to deal with them. Before you ask, no, we don't work with them."

"Why?"

"Mostly because their first action would be to kill us," Jackie answered simply. At Sam's look of shock, she gave a small, slightly bitter laugh.

"Sues aren't classed as human. That means anything goes – Unforgivables, restricted weapons, the whole shebang. Official classification is a Threat to Intelligent Life, which has a terminate on sight recommendation."

"What about the, the things you just said?" Sam was almost surprised at the desperation in her voice, "Like us?"

"They don't even see the division." There was a clear edge of disgust in Jackie's voice, "If there's a Sue inside, that's all they see. We're on our own."

"Why?" Sam blurted out suddenly even as Jackie opened her mouth to continue, "Why all this? Why are Sues a threat?"

Jackie's expression solidified. She suddenly looked very serious.

"Because a Sue doesn't just affect its host. It's parasitic on the canon, the reality around it. People it interacts with become under its Influence, start acting how the Sue wants them to, regardless of their own personality. The more it has under its thrall, the more power a Sue has, the more fall to it and the harder it is to fight. If it goes on too long victims' minds will break down. They act erratically, only consistent in obedience to the Sue, then the real insanity sets in. Lucky ones die. I've…we've never seen anything beyond the second stage. The Terrace is here to make sure we never do."

"Oh."

It was all she could think of as a response. What did you say to something like that? Sam watched the carpet for a while, mostly to avoid Jackie's gaze.

"So…what did Kate do to me?"

"Suppression sporking. Shifts control from the Sue to the Self, basically by injuring the Sue so badly it's forced into a kind of hibernation."

Her next question was the one whose answer she was dreading.

"What happens to me now?"

"Now?" Jackie glanced down at her watch; "We go see what's available for breakfast. I'm starving, I guess you must be too. Sporking takes a lot out of you."

"That's not what I- "

Jackie waved a hand, cutting her off.

"Yeah, I know. You'll shadow me for a few days, 'till you find your feet a bit more, and we'll try you out on a few things. Plus you can start some of the basic lessons."

"Lessons?"

The redhead laughed.

"Of course! The average age we get Initials at is fifteen and you'll find a lot of what you used to know will be rather…scrambled, so you need teaching. Basic spellwork, wards, physical defences, basically everything you'd be learning in a school plus our own more specialised sections. Control and recognition of Sues, your own and others, use of Sue power without yielding control, history, categories and how to deal with them, and later you'll have a chance to learn how to use these." Jackie's hand went down to her waist, flipping open a thin black pouch that Sam had assumed was a phone case. Silver flashed. Sam automatically shrank back as her companion raised the spork up to eye level, the light glinting on the razor tips. Jackie put it away again quickly and shrugged.

"You won't have to worry about that for ages though. Only about a third of anyone here is qualified with these, Richard is rather strict about use. Now," she stood up and made an over-theatrical display of dusting herself off, "Let's go bug the kitchens."

Sam straightened up to follow, a weird mix of relief and disappointment bubbling through her at the end in the questioning. On the one hand, she'd already learnt far more than she wanted to know about this…thing apparently living inside her. On the other was a list of her own questions that stretched out over the horizon, and all Jackie's talk had barely started to answer them. Still, there was an equally large gap somewhere in the region of her stomach, so food certainly sounded like a good idea. An odd thought struck her and she hesitated.

"Um…Jackie?"

"Uh-huh?" Jackie turned, leaning on the doorframe, and raised an eyebrow, "What's up?"

"I…er…don't remember what I like eating."

The redhead grinned and was suddenly next to her, wrapping an arm round her shoulders as she steered her towards the door.

"Ah, then it's a voyage of self-discovery as well as a meal. There's usually cake, that'll be a good place to start. Oh, and a word to the wise," she span Sam round to face her, expression suddenly serious, "Don't take the Pepperjack cheese. It's been in that fridge for years."

It turned out that the Terrace kitchens provided a large variety of food and, as predicted, everything except the cheese was perfectly edible. Somehow, every taste was new. Sam could remember eating – slightly – but not in any great detail and not anything specific. She guessed it would take a while for her tastes to establish, so for now she decided to try everything she could. It made for a rather strange meal – though if Jackie noticed she didn't comment on it, and seemed quite happy to help herself to the items Sam sampled. She continued to talk between bites, somehow managing to avoid either interrupting the continual flow of conversation or choking. It was actually quite impressive.

Sitting at one of the many tables in the bustling kitchens, Sam could feel a little of her tension fade. If you overlooked the fact that each passing face wouldn't look out of place on a Parisian catwalk, the intermittent flashes of green light as someone materialised in the fireplace and the occasional occurrence of pointed ears, it was reassuringly normal. Not that she had any real idea of what 'normal' entailed, but this seemed close enough. Jackie kept away from any specifically Sue-related conversation and instead spent most of her time talking through the kinds of things she'd be seeing in the next few days. Kitchen work, starting classes, tour of the interior and a few aptitude tests, apparently. Nothing too intense, which was a relief. She didn't think she could deal with anything else weird this soon.

Jackie swallowed her last bite and licked her lips.

"I think cake may be my most interesting vice. You done?" she gestured to the empty plate infront of Sam, who nodded. Jackie scooped up their dishes and, balancing them skilfully on her forearms, transferred them over to a nearby sink, where they promptly began washing themselves. As she turned back, a new voice rose over the low bustle of the kitchens.

"Hey, Jackie!"

The redhead glanced up. Threading her way across the room towards them was the notebook-wielding Japanese girl who Sam had met when she arrived, now armed with a large clipboard. She made her way over to them and leaned on the table, sighing.

"Phew. I swear everyone is conspiring to be at opposite ends of this place today."

Jackie grinned and held up her hands in mock defence.

"Don't look at me, I wouldn't dream of getting in the way of the Admin."

"Yes, we are truly to be feared," the girl rolled her – purple – eyes and raised the current clipboard, "I'll need your phone Jackie, time to charm them up again."

Jackie nodded, ticked herself off on the sheet and handed over a sleek black rectangle. Sam watched the girl pocket the phone and tick something else.

"Okay, you should get it back by tomorrow morning. If you really need to contact anyone before that we fixed the Alcoves last week. Don't suppose you've seen Mara?"

"Try Scanns."

"Thanks," the girl tucked her pen behind her ear and nodded to them before headed back through the tables. Jackie glanced over at Sam, who was frowning.

"What's up?"

"That's a small mobile…"

The older woman laughed.

"Yeah, not quite as brick-sized as the current market versions, eh? First one turned up with an Initial about three years ago. I'll let you in on a little secret," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "There's more technology in a lightbulb. Entirely charm-run, the signal's linked in to the Floo Network. Good, huh?"

Sam stared at her.

"You mean you invent things?"

"Not me personally," Jackie shook her head, "And it's more adaptation, rather than design for the most part. Puella moderna tends to come complete with unusual possessions. If we can use them then they go to the lab."

"Puella moderna?"

"Type of Sue. The Jennys have been working on a classification scheme for two years, but there are a lot of grey areas. The only truly universal aspects are Influence and spork vulnerability, even the ocular cycle isn't always there. I haven't got one," she batted her eyes and grinned, "Makes optician's appointments considerably less complicated. Now, you feel up to a short tour?"

Sam did. They left the kitchens and Jackie launched immediately into tour-guide mode. The ease with which she reeled off information and answered most questions before Sam had time to ask them gave the impression she'd done this before. A lot. Sam didn't mind. The hurried glimpses she'd seen when she arrived hadn't even been half of it. This place was huge. The name 'Terrace' turned out to be a literal description – the building had started off life as a long, Victorian-style row of terraced housing, but had been heavily modified by both magical and Muggle means. There were certainly more levels than predicted by the outside view, and lots of rooms seemed to exist from the inside but not occupy the space outside they should have done. After a while, the endless corridors did start to blur somewhat. Rooms turned into hallways, stairs into walls and some areas, such as the pyramid-shaped room that contained a huge staircase and fireplace really, really shouldn't have been able to fit in a two-room thick terrace. By the time they got back to the kitchens, Sam's feet were aching and her head throbbing from her futile attempts to lay down a mental map. Jackie's half-laughed advice 'not to think too hard about it' wasn't massively helpful.

There were lots more people in the kitchen by then. A glance at the cheap plastic clock fixed above one fridge told a surprised Sam that it was far later in the day than she'd expected. Their walk must have been longer than she'd thought! She followed Jackie to a small side table and was furnished with some biscuits. Around them, the women laughed and joked with eachother as the scent of cooking food filled the air. Jackie nicked a biscuit and grinned.

"Lunchtime chaos. You should see tea – fewer sandwiches, more mess. So?" She laced her fingers together and leaned forward on them, "Now you've had a nosey, what'cha think of our little madhouse?"

Sam picked her words carefully.

"It's…interesting. In a good way," she added hurriedly, "I mean, it's strange, and…well…"

"Interesting?"

"Um, yeah…" She hesitated, "So…what happens now?"

"Now? I – Well, well!"

That was a quick change of subject even for Jackie, and Sam immediately swung round to see what she was looking at. She felt her heart skip a beat as she focused on the tall figure that had just emerged from the doorway. Richard didn't seem any less intimidating with Sam's new world-outlook either. Even the fact that he was yawning heavily as he approached the most heavily laden table did little to decrease his presence. That probably had a lot to do with the fact that table was only one away from them, and Sam suddenly became very interested in the wood grain under her elbows.

"Wonders will never cease," Jackie muttered, "Look who's lowering himself down to our level."

"Word of advice Jackie?" Richard didn't even look up and began filling a plate, "When exercising your sarcasm muscle, turn off the tour-guide volume."

"C'mon, give me a little credit," the redhead scoffed as she shifted her seat aside, making space on her left for another chair, "I have a drop of subtlety in my soul."

"When I see it, I'll believe it." Richard finished loading up his plate and, to Sam's combined shock, horror and amazement, made his way over to their table, swinging a chair round from an adjacent place as he did so. Sam swallowed a quiet squeak and automatically shrank back in her chair, making a futile attempt to blend into the wallpaper. Richard didn't even seem to acknowledge her at first and continued talking to Jackie but, after a few minutes the chatter stopped and Sam felt his gaze fall upon her. She really could feel his attention, as if the stare had actual physical force behind it. After a moment of squirming on her suddenly uncomfortable seat, and after deciding that the earth really wasn't going to come to her aid and swallow her whole, Sam looked up.

It wasn't as bad as she'd imagined. Sure, once Richard's gaze locked with her own she couldn't find the willpower to break it, but… This time it felt far less imprisoning than before, the intensity edged more with curiosity than contempt. For the briefest of seconds, some odd expression flickered in the back of his –currently– dark eyes, then the paralysing aspect of his stare vanished and he nodded slightly.

"So you did make it. Ups my tally at last."

At that, Jackie snorted.

"Yeah, because you really need help staying at the top."

"No." He broke his look with Sam to shoot an odd glance at Jackie. Neither seemed about to elaborate on the look and Sam took the opportunity to cough nervously as she searched her brain for words. The earlier conversation was nagging at her; she had to say something…

"Um…M-Mr Richard? Sir? I-"

"It's just Richard."

Sam gulped at the correction and it took a fresh jolt of mental pressure to make her continue.

"I…I just wanted… Thankyouforsavingme!" With that, she sat back, cheeks burning, and renewed her interest in the woodwork. Richard gave a small sound that may have been a soft laugh.

"Don't worry about it."

Sam felt the attention on her lift as the two older occupants of the table began talking to eachother again. Her heart was still hammering away against her ribs, but the beat had at least become less erratic now. Maybe-

"Richard! Thank Merlin!"

Any more of Sam's thoughts on the previous subject cut out as she automatically craned her neck toward the shout. The Japanese 'Admin' girl was back again, but her demeanor was very different this time. Obvious panic had replaced bureaucratic concern on her features, and she was ploughing her way desperately through the kitchen towards them. Richard blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Chris? What's the matter?"

The girl skidded to a halt by the table, waving a clipboard through the air so wildly she only narrowly avoided taking the tip off a nearby observer's ear.

"We've –gasp- got a –gasp- problem!" She managed between heavy breaths. Richard's stare visibly cooled.

"I am off shift, for the first time in-"

"Luce hasn't reported in since she went out! That was yesterday!"

"What?!" Suddenly Richard was on his feet, snatching the clipboard from the girl's unresisting fingers, "No word? It's supposed to be six hours maximum non-contact before an alarm goes off!"

"W-well," the girl – Chris? – stuttered, "It would, I mean, for anyone else…but Luce, she's just below you…"

"Exactly," Richard shoved the clipboard back at her with a low growl, "Below me. What the hell is Kate thinking?"

"I-I-" the girl took a step back, her head bowed, and stared at the floor. Sam could see why – all trace of the less intense, less scary Richard had vanished again. Every eye in the room was fixed on him as he straightened up, pinning Chris with a dark stare she seemed unable to meet.

"I…I don't…she said to get you!"

"And I will be having words about that after I find Luce," said Richard grimly as he swung his outer robes back into place and thrust the clipboard back at Chris, "She was on a train pickup, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"I'll find it."

With a loud crack, he was gone.

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