Chapter Five
Peter grinned. It had been a long time since he'd been allowed to do this- too long. Standing before the Mary Sue, he recited the familiar words:
"Syrhénna Starflower, you are hereby charged with unlawfully entering the canon of Harry Potter and committing the following: causing heavy rain to be far more romantic than it should be; possessing the ability to alter the perception and emotions of a canon character, namely Draco Malfoy; using said ability to cause Master Malfoy to fall in love with you with the intention of using his father's place at Voldemort's side to find and destroy the Dark Lord in an act illegal under Rule Eighteen, namely, Thou Shalt Not Presume, subcategory J, To Conclude The Story Of An Unfinished Canon; of, once apprehended, further using said ability to incapacitate an Agent of the True Continuum Police, namely George-"
George waved half-heartedly from where he sat collapsed against the corridor wall. "Thanks, Pete."
"- and causing said Agent to join with you in your attempt to re-enter Harry Potter canon and complete your story," he concluded, spitting the last word. The pain of having to refer to the drivel Mary Sues appear in as a 'story' never really went away. So much for the Law of Diminishing Returns.
"In response to your simply breaking into canon the Council would have been prepared to be lenient, but as you have also seen fit to attempt to return to the 'verse, destroying Agency property and incapacitating an Agent in the process, it is my duty to inform you that you will receive the harshest sentence- the sentence of death- actually, no, wait-"
Unfortunately for the Sue, the creature sneaking up behind her had acted upon the word death. Had it not- had it waited for Peter to amend his proclamation- the Sue would have faced a professional and completely pain-free reassignment as a filing cabinet. Instead, she was swallowed.
"Dammit, Jack!"
"Hurrah!"
"Oh, do be quiet, George. Jack, you didn't even chew."
The dragon addressed as Jack gulped a few times before answering. "Nyump- aah. Foot got stuck. Never chew this type. Hair gets stuck in your teeth. Oh, don't grouch, Pete. Just tell the Council she. . . disappeared, hmm?"
"She did, anyway, so it isn't even lying," George put in. "Thanks, Jack. I owe you big time."
"Not at all. First decent meal I've had in months." Jack rolled a yellow eye at Peter. "First since that Jelaquil girl from Claormene, really." That had been a fun mission. Since Claormene didn't actually exist, all the Calormene soldiers the half-dryad had summoned to protect her had simply helped Barbs apprehend the wench.
"You told me she ran off a cliff!"
"Yes." The dragon smirked. "I was at the bottom of the cliff. Are you going to report me, or can I head back to barracks now?"
Peter gritted his teeth, a pastime he often employed when dealing with this particular insubordinate subordinate. "Go. Drop George off at the hospital wing on your way."
After the two Agents had gone, George complimenting Jack on his marvellous victory over the Sue all the while, Peter turned back up the corridor. Time to see what the other girl was made of.
Janet. That was strange. A little too strange to be a coincidence.
- - - - - - - - - -
"What was that?" Janet managed to inject a snap into what would normally have been a breathless gasp. "All those- everything! Going through my head!"
"Testing. We all go through it." Barbara was leafing through the pages the Tester had spewed out. She frowned. "This can't be right. . ."
"Tested? For what?"
"Awareness, depth, possibilities for emotional and character growth. . . Peter! Look at this." Barbara shoved the sheaf of papers at the captain as he walked through the door. "Look at her origin. It makes no sense-"
"Actually, Barbara, it does." Peter aimed another piercing look at Janet, who almost fainted- but again, not quite. "Miss Wattingford- would you be so kind as to tell us, in your own words, exactly what happened to you last night?"
So Janet, somewhat glad to be able to get it all off her chest, told him. She stumbled a bit over her words a bit at the beginning, and rushed through the incident with what she had since realised was a despicable Mary Sue without touching on many points, but managed to finish off with a decent rant about the way she had been treated. Finally, as was both her right and very much expected of her, she demanded to be told what the hell was going on.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Barbara asked scathingly. "The Test had you down as smarter than this. I guess it needs a tune-up."
"Barbara." Peter was using his Captain voice- time to reign in the sarcasm. "Look- George is in the hospital wing, and Miss Wattingford looks like she could use some time there. George can answer any questions she has. You and I need to report to HQ."
"Why?"
"Jack ate the Sue."
"Dammit! Again?"
Peter's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to ask what you mean by 'again'- I'm just going to hope you're referring to the Claormene incident. Take the young lady to the hospital wing, and hurry back. Oh- and tell George he's not to encourage Jack, all right?"
"Will do, sir."
- - - - - - - - - -
The hospital wing was bleak and smelt of disinfectant, the linoleum floors and walls lit by long strip-lights set into the ceiling which, if Janet wasn't mistaken, was also covered in linoleum. Most of the rooms they passed were at least half filled, their occupants either lying distressingly quietly or joking heartily with their fellow patients. The room Barbara led Janet to, however, only had one other patient inside.
And a dragon. Jack took up quite a bit of room.
"Move, over, Jack- the new girl needs a bed. And you need to go pretend you've been in barracks since you returned, in case HQ decides to investigate the Mystery of the Amazing Disappearing Sue. . ."
"Consider me long gone." Jack stalked out of the room. It was quite a sight, a stalking dragon, especially for someone who'd never seen a lizard bigger than a tuatara before. Janet stared after him as Barbara pushed her onto a bed, a little more carefully than she had pushed her into the Tester. Janet fell gratefully onto the bed. It was good to lie down, especially when standing up involved so many aching pains. . .
"George, you're to answer any questions Janet has." The boy in the next bed started slightly at hearing Janet's name, then nodded. "I'm off to report- see you at tea, if you're back." Barbara strode off back the way she and Janet had come in. Janet sighed and shut her eyes. Everyone here seemed to walk so quickly.
"So. . . Janet." George stumbled a bit on the last word, unused to using it so informally. Years of habit were hard to break, but he managed to resist saying "Miss" between "So" and "Janet".
The Janet in question opened her eyes and pulled herself up into a sitting position. This was unfortunately uncomfortable, as TPC-issue hospital beds are made specifically with the comfort of comaed-out Agents in mind, not sitting-up-so-as-not-to-appear-rude interlopers. She looked over at the boy who had spoken.
He looked back, grinned, and stuck out a hand.
"Hi. I'm George, Farmacist for TPC Divisions three through eight. Shake?"
"What?"
George's grin cracked a little. "Please. No asking why, no cute little references to a certain film. Just shake." Janet did, making sure to wipe her hand on a sheet first. She was still excessively muddy, although it was drying off in the warm room. Flakes of dirt floated off her arm as she held it out.
"No, I wasn't going to do any of that. I meant, um, what's all that stuff you just said? TPC? Divisions? And, um, sorry, but aren't you a bit young to be a pharmacist? I thought you needed years of training and stuff. . ."
The boy's grin widened. "You've just seen a dragon and you're confused about me being a pharmacist?"
"Er. . . yes, that does sound a little stupid. I think my brain's barely dealing with the easy things at the moment, though, and drugs are familiar ground, right?"
"I don't know. Are they?"
Janet flailed nervously. "Medicine drugs! Legal ones, like, like aspirin and iron tablets and, um, more aspirin. Vitamin C tablets!"
"All right, all right. Calm down." George settled back on his bed, which some kind soul had seen fit to make comfortable with a variety of colourful pillows. "It's Farmacist, by the way, not pharmacist. Eff, not pee aitch."
"That makes even less sense than it did before, then."
"Not really. Farmacist skills are mostly in-built, like having a green thumb except more colourful. Basically it's just dangerous gardening." Although not, he thought glumly, as dangerous as coming out of the garden and walking into a stray Sue. "So. I'm supposed to answer any questions you have. Fire away."
"Can't you just explain stuff and I'll stop you when you get to something hard?"
"Answer- no. All information given to non-Agents must be given in a strict question-answer format. It's in the rules, I'm afraid." It had been one of the first rules, in fact, made after Colin had gotten especially tipsy before a mission one night and told a Self-Insert about the TCP. It'd taken three days to track the Insert's Outworld persona and wipe the information.
Janet blinked. "All right, then. Um. . . is the ceiling really lino?"
"Yup! Easier to wash, I guess. Bit hard if you've taken a knock on the head and think it's the floor, but. Next question?"
"Oh. . ." Hard to wash? Janet decided not to think about that. In her experience ceilings didn't need to be washed that often, and she had a feeling she didn't want to think about why a hospital ceiling would need to be washed very often. "Where are we, then?"
"Hospital Wing of the True Continuum Police, the second-largest Department in the Agency."
"Um, right. What's the True Continuum Police? And the-"
-- Zeeeeink! --
"Ah, dammit. Pass me that, will you?" George pointed at what looked like a smallish, green brick on the floor by Janet's bed. "Must've dropped it when I came in- thanks."
"No worries- what is it?"
"Not really sure. It does most stuff, though. For messages, mostly," George said absently. "Oh."
"What?"
George grimaced apologetically at her. "Congratulations. You're now an Agent of the True Continuum Police, you poor bugg- thing."