Title: The Wanderer's Wandering Daughter
Author: Red Wasabi
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I can dream (and I do! ;)
Notes: Well, got out a little later then I had initially expected…also went tin a totally different direction too, but what the heck muse though art a fickle bitch.
Rated: G/K
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"A is for apple, ah, ah, ah. B is for baby, buh, buh—is that thing even paying attention to me?" Agent Springer asked grouchily. "We've been at this for hours and so far we've gotten three clicks, a beep, and a whole lot of blank stares out of this thing. Are they even sure that it can talk? I mean after all it did get captured, isn't it at all possible that maybe we got the retarded alien?" Springer babbled on unaware of the dark mood that was growing in the agent sitting next to him.
Simmons rubbed the bridge of his nose slowly as he tried to block out Springer's incessant chatter. They had had this argument every day, for the last five years. Ever since Springer had been taken off the MBE 1 case and assigned to Simmons' Kitta case he had done nothing but try to get Simmons to transfer him. Today it seemed he was going for the annoying, with a borderline of slightly offensive comments routine and Simmons was sick and tried of it.
"Ok, first of all," Simmons said interrupting Springer's running commentary, "what have I said about calling Kitta an 'it'? She is a member of a highly advanced mechanoid race that we know next to nothing about; she could be a princess or a dignitary for all we know, and you're sitting here insulting her intelligence!"
Springer leaned back in his hard institutional chair with a chuckle, "First of all Simmons, there's no conclusive proof that what you're calling a she is a she; we're just assuming that because of the structural difference in her and MBE 1's frame they are different genders. Who knows, maybe big ugly out there is the girl and this one is the male; it wouldn't be the first time that nature has made the male smaller and better looking then the female of the species." Springer smirked widely at Simmons, "and second of all, your 'dignitary' there is eating her flashcards."
"What?!" Simmons turned around just in time to see 'C is for cat' disappear down his excitedly chattering alien's mouth. "Damn it. How many has she eaten already?"
Springer shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno, while we were talking she managed to get down V, P, C; but she could have gotten more when I wasn't looking."
Simmons let out a growl as he reached for a small canister in his suit pocket, "And you didn't stop her because, why?"
Springer shook his head at Simmons' agitation glad he could prickle the agent in any way. "I figured that something beneficial would finally come from one of these so called phonetic lessons—she would get some fiber." He replied scathingly.
Simmons glared over at the agent next to him, "She doesn't need fiber; she's an alien species. She not even supposed to eat stuff like that. She's supposed to eat this—" Simmons shook a blue, marble sized globe from his canister. "This recycled energy globe has all the nutrients she needs, thank you Mr. MBE 1." Kitta's eyes followed Simmons' hands as he rolled the globe around in the palm of his hand.
"You want it Kitta," Kitta's eyes brightened considerably at her name. "OK the say, A is for apple, ah, ah, ah--and damn it spit out whatever letter you are chewing right now!"
Springer held out an open hand, "Hey give that blue thing here; I've got an idea." Simmons raised a skeptical eyebrow but dropped the blue globe into Springer's waiting hands never the less.
"Yeah well, whatever it is it better be good, or she's going to go through the whole alphabet in record time." Simmons grumbled out.
"Maybe," with a small clack Springer set the globe on the table top in front of Kitta and began to roll it lazily between his two hands. "Maybe, she's just tired of the same old stuff that we've been tying to drill into her for what seems like a century. Maybe we should try something new, something, dare I say it—unorthodox."
Springer looked expectantly over at his partner, "Fine whatever you want—just don't do anything to hurt her."
Springer nodded agreeably as he leaned forward a mischievous smile on his face, "Of course nothing to hurt the 'princess'."
"Kitta, look over here." Springer waved the blue globe inches from the alien's flickering eyes. "You want this Kitta?" Springer moved the globe up and down and winked at Simmons less then pleased face when her entire head began to bob in time with the treat.
A silver hand darted out to take the treat, and Springer ripped it back towards him. "Ah, ah, Kitta, you can't have this until you've said something for us. Now can you say Simmons, Kitta, Simmons," Springer drawled out the other agent's name. "Simmons, as in Simmons is a dirty bastard, can you say that Kitta, darling."
"Agent Springer!" Springer turned towards his irate partner with a cocky smile.
"What?" he answered innocently as he popped the blue treat into his own mouth, smirking at Simmons face as it was contorted in both disgust and annoyance. "It's been hours since breakfast."
Simmons took a deep calming breath before replying, "You know you're right Agent Springer, it has been a long time. Why don't you just go and eat something—and not come back. I'll stay here and work with our assignment. Is that all right with you?"
Springer's back cracked loudly as he stretched next to the open door, "Yeah whatever Simmons, hey could you make sure to you know, record your session with Kitta? Cause you know I don't want to miss a single moment of the demise of the alphabet by alien teeth."
"Just shut the door and leave already." Simmons huffed out.
"Hey I'm already gone." Springer yelled as he slammed the door to the office.
"Not gone soon enough though." Simmons muttered under his breath as he gathered up the remaining flash cards. It just didn't make sense, he knew that Kitta wasn't stupid, anyone could see that—so why hadn't she picked up any language skills. They'd tried English, then German, and French, followed by a smattering of several other languages until finally they had arrived back at English; but nothing seemed to stick. She seemed to understand them, but she refused to actually communicate beyond her own made up language of clicks, beeps, and hums.
"Maybe you are tried of the same old methods, they don't seem to be working anyway…"Simmons cast a glance at the closed door. "So lets try something really different ok Kitta?" Simmons took another blue globe from the canister and held it in front of his wayward student. "Kitta, can you say Daddy?"