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The Phoenix Files
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Trevelyan, A.
Canon: James Bond/Stargate: SG-1
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Trevelyan, A. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 816
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist, though this one’s a little bit of a self-drag. Stop writing “Alec lives due to extraordinary circumstances” fic, past me.Oops this is a bit of what Team Phoenix is, isn’t it?
Probationary Agent Callahan.
“Yessir,” Kitty said, snapping a salute to the suited sunflower behind the desk.
I have consulted with the other Flowers. Your…Project Phoenix…has our approval. You will have one chance at this; it is extremely risky. And at the first sign of trouble, we will pull the plug. Do you understand?
“Yessir,” Kitty said crisply. “I understand, sir.”
The Sunflower Official sighed as much as a Flower was able. He appreciated the modicum of respect that he was given by new and probationary agents, such as Callahan, who was clearly trying to make a good impression. And if she made it to full agent status, he knew that the respect absolutely would not last. He had the impression that she would be one of the Agents who’d eventually snap. Hopefully without the flamethrower.
Well? What are you waiting for? he said impatiently. Go get on with it!
“Yessir!” Kitty turned and ran out of the office. The Sunflower Official sighed again. This would either go very well, or very badly.
If he were a betting Flower, he’d bet on the latter.
*
Kitty nervously checked her gear for what must have been the twelfth time. This was the make-or-break time for her. Either she’d succeed and get to become a full-fledged agent or…she wouldn’t.
The SO was right; the plan was risky, but she hadn’t been able to come up with anything else. Too many agents had been breaking lately, and her strategy was one for recruitment.
An extremely unorthodox strategy for recruitment, but a strategy all the same.
She set the portal, took several deep breaths, upscaled to hyperventilating, and barreled through.
*
“Oof,” she muttered after she’d gotten back to her feet. Rushing through portals, she’d now discovered, was one way to end up tumbling into the new canon like a complete fool. She brushed herself off and checked her disguise. She’d set the thing properly – U.S. Air Force BDUs, with a name tag reading ‘Callahan’.
At least this planet was, like most worlds in SG-1 canon, largely Earthlike, so there was no need for specialized breathing devices, and the gravity was Earth-standard, or close enough to it. Kitty hopped from foot to foot nervously. She’d only brought one weapon – the canon-compliant zat’nik’tel. Or at least, canon-compliant for one of the canons involved, anyway, though most of what had transpired barely qualified as a Bond fic anymore, anyway. The only connection was the presence of Trevelyan’s clone.
And once he was out of the picture, everything would snap back to normal.
And speak of the devil – here he came. Kitty ducked down behind a rock, watching the fic play out. At least there wasn’t much of the relevant part left. As usual, SG-1 were locked in combat with some Jaffa who were loyal to their local Goa’uld; Kitty didn’t particularly care which.
This was going to take some expert timing. Trevelyan had been shunted away from the rest of the group, and a Jaffa was bearing down on him, wielding a staff weapon. Kitty knew he was going to shoot Trevelyan, which would lead to a heartfelt deathbed confession that he was fine with Sam dating O’Neill, really.
Not on her watch.
She took careful aim, and fired. The Jaffa dropped, paralyzed by the zat’s stun setting.
Trevelyan looked behind himself at Kitty, crouched behind the rock. “Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, that’s a fine thing to say to someone who just saved your life,” Kitty groused, and stood up. “He was going to turn you into crispy barbecue, and what’s the thanks I get? ‘Who the hell are you’? I’ve half a mind to leave you here to die, you egg.”
“…sorry?”
“I cannot believe I ever thought this was a good idea,” Kitty said, and rolled her eyes. “This might sting a bit.” Before Trevelyan could dodge, she fired again, and he fell to the ground, stunned.
Grumbling about ungrateful rescue-ees, Kitty set the remote activator back for her own response center, grabbed the semi-canonical by his collar, and dragged him through the portal.
*
“Ra on a Ritz cracker, you weigh about six hundred pounds with all that gear, you know that, right?” Kitty said to the paralyzed Trevelyan. Then she raised her voice. “Oi! Doc!”
Dr. Fitzgerald poked his head out of the door. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Kitty said cheerfully. “If you could kindly see to our new recruit? He’s only been hit with a zat’nik’tel, nothing too serious. And could you please keep him sedated until I get back with the rest of them? There’s going to be a lot to explain, and I think I need to do that before everyone gets sent off to FicPsych.”
“You’re bringing in more?!”
Kitty winked. “I’ve got my orders. Gotta shoot!” She took off running down the hallway, theoretically back towards her response center.
Next stop: Boromir.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Denethorion, B.
Canon: Lord of the Rings
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Denethorion, B. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 550
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist, but man, I kind of wish this one did.
Once Kitty had gotten sufficiently lost to make it back to her response center, she started laughing a little bit. This entire thing was crazy, but as with many things in the PPC, she’d learned, it just might be crazy enough to work.
She pulled up the next file. This one was unorthodox, but he’d be useful indeed. That done, she went back to the small armory in her RC and replaced the zat’nik’tel with a stun gun. Not normally canon-compliant, but, well…this was a special case. She checked to be sure there was a cartridge loaded, and grabbed a couple more, just in case she missed. It wasn’t like she’d exactly trained too much with any sort of firearm. She didn’t like them at all, really.
She checked the disguise generator settings to be sure that she wouldn’t be dropping in as an Air Force Ensign again, and hopped through the portal. She’d learned her lesson about running full-tilt.
*
When she stepped out of the portal, she looked down at herself. Oh, yes. Matrix-style black trenchcoat over pure 1990s raver cybergoth? Oh, hell yes. This was the coolest thing she’d ever worn, ever. (Mostly, she’d only ever worn her PPC uniform, but the point stood.)
Again, the timing on this one was going to be tricky. The premise of this one was a cyberpunk AU, where the One Ring was a virus created by Sauron, a master hacker, who could only be stopped by inflicting the virus on his own servers. It was actually a good fic, but this version of Boromir was pretty useful…and was never actually shown to die.
Jackpot.
She ducked behind a bit of busted concrete wall with rusted rebar sticking out; this place had clearly seen destruction. And Boromir, aka Boz, aka Bozza – hacker name ‘BozzaNova’, which Kitty 100% could not actually believe – was fighting off his attackers with an Uzi.
Oh, yes. Useful indeed.
He wasn’t entirely successful. Even though he’d ended up killing every single one of the ‘Ork’ gang members Sauron had hired to attack him, he’d been grievously wounded in the attempt. Kevlar could only do so much. He tapped out a final message to Aragorn – LongStrides – on his wrist computer, stumbled backwards, and…
“Oi,” Kitty said. “Time to go, Bozza.” She snickered. “Bozza. Oh my God…”
“…who…?” the semi-canonical asked, dazed.
“Nah,” Kitty said, programming the portal and refusing to explain. “Ask me later. Let’s go.” She hopped out of hiding, threw her arm over his shoulders, and brought the both of them through.
*
“Gunshot wounds, triage!” Kitty yelled.
Dr. Fitzgerald turned around from ten feet away. “No need to shout. I’m literally right here. Is that…is that Boromir?”
“Nope,” she said, snickering. “Bozza.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Can you just…do the thing? Got a few more.”
“Please, no.”
“Too bad,” Kitty said cheerfully, and looked at her wounded charge. Boromir had passed out. “Oops, I think he’s lost too much blood. Choppity choppity!”
“I am really starting to hate you, you know,” the doctor said.
“Yeah, I figured. Time to go!” She sat Boromir down on the nearest bed and skipped out of Medical, not even minding the fact that she was covered in blood.
The next – and last – one…now that was going to be a doozy.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.
Canon: Patriot Games, Don’t Say a Word, Ronin, Airborne
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 801
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist. This one, though, is essentially me from 2001. I am so sorry, everyone.
Kitty returned to her response center, sat down, and closed her eyes. This one was going to suck. It was the only way to get these guys – they’d all be varying degrees of OOC, but at least this would make the fic they came from utterly implode, reducing damage to all their canons at once.
She was helping, really. The SO ought to be proud of her.
She checked the stun gun on her belt and decided to grab a few more cartridges. This was going to be either very easy, or very, very difficult.
Also, she’d probably throw up after everything was over.
She didn’t bother with the disguise generator. It didn’t matter. Nothing was described and everything was terrible.
Kitty stretched, flicked one of the bells on her cat-ear headband for luck, cracked her knuckles, and set the portal. “Alley-oop!”
This was going to be just the worst.
*
Kitty: *stumbles when she portals in* Aw, crap. *hides behind something made of Generic Surface*
Sean: I enjoy the smooth, intriguing flavor of Vanilla Coke!
Kitty: *muttering to herself* I hate my life and I hate my choices.
Paddy: Hey, I want some!
Sean: No, little brother! Get your own! Paddy: Awww, Sean’s being meeean! :(
Koster: *steals the Coke*
Sean: Grr! *punches Koster*
Kitty: *thinking* Christ alive. Who wrote this? They’re way too obsessed with Sean Bean. Everyone except Paddy is a Sean Bean. This is gonna be a disaster.
Toombs: *steals the Coke during the fistfight* Hehehe. >:3
Kitty: *thinking* So, where are we? I can’t see…anywhere. It’s just a blank white space. Oh, this hurts my eyes. I’m gonna yartz. *tries not to puke*
Sean: *grabs Koster’s arm and starts hitting him with it* Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!
Koster: Ow! Sean! You’re such an asshole!
Sean: DON’T SWEAR AROUND MY BABY BROTHER! *punches him again*
Paddy: Sean! I’m sixteen!
Toombs: *noisily drinks the Coke through a straw and watches the fight*
Spence: *has a bucket of popcorn* Want some?
Toombs: Yeah, sure. *eats some popcorn*
Kitty: *thinking* Why. Why did I do this to myself? They are fighting. Over Vanilla Coke. But at least this is basically the only badfic in each of these fandoms. I should get a freakin’ medal for this.
Sean: *looks up* Hey! DAVEY! GIVE ME BACK MY COKE!
Toombs: *turns bright red with anger* DON’T CALL ME DAVEY!
Kitty: *ears bleeding* Ow.
Koster: *has a nosebleed from being punched so much* Sean! Stop it! I’m sorry!
Spence: *screams* Not the blood! *turns around and pukes*
Everyone: Ewwww!
Kitty: *muttering* All right, that’s it. *stands up* Hey idiots!
Everyone: *turns to look at her*
Paddy: Uh, who are you?
Kitty: Your freakin’ savior, that’s who. Now hold still. *draws stun gun and fires*
Paddy: *falls down*
Sean: HEY! DON’T HURT MY LITTLE BROTHER! *draws Harry Potter wand* WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!
Kitty: *dodges* Oh, for the love of Iau, shut UP! *reloads stun gun and shoots him* See? You’ve got me using the Capslock of Rage, too! This is intolerable! *reloads stun gun and shoots Koster*
Koster: *is already on the ground from being hit so much* *twitches*
Kitty: Okay, that was probably overkill. The rest of you gonna do anything, or just stand there?
Spence: …I don’t like violence…
Kitty: Cool. Byeeee. *reloads and shoots him with stun gun*
Spence: *drops popcorn* *falls down*
Kitty: Last one. *reloads stun gun*
Toombs: AAAAA! *starts to run away*
Kitty: *chases after him* Oh, no you don’t! *slips in Spence’s puke* *falls down* GAH! EW!
Toombs: AAAAA! *continues running*
Kitty: Gross! God! I hate this! *chases Toombs* *shoots at him with the stun gun* *misses*
Toombs: AAAAA! *continues running*
Kitty: Hmm…I can do whatever I want here…FLYING NINJA KICK! *leaps up and flying ninja kicks Toombs to the ground*
Toombs: ACK! *falls down*
Kitty: *reloads stun gun and shoots him with it* Sweet zombie apocalypse. That’s everyone, right? Okay. Uh…I can still do whatever I want because this is a scriptfic. *sets a portal to Medical* *levitates all of the stunned semi-canonicals through it* *jumps through herself*
*
Kitty shook herself and tried not to trip over the pile of stunned canonicals. “Doc?” she said weakly. “You got a bucket?”
Dr. Fitzgerald handed her a trashcan. She threw up into it.
“Uh…I hit all of these guys with a stun gun,” she said.
“Why are you covered in vomit?” the doctor asked, before shaking his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“You really don’t,” Kitty said. “I think I need a shower. Some bleeprin and a shower. And then I need to come talk to these guys.” She stumbled out of Medical, feeling like she was going to throw up again. She could keep it in until she got back to her response center. Probably.
And soon, she could stop with the mature act, because it was really beginning to wear on her.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Choices
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1186
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, it’s time for everyone to make their choice. In the words of Benjamin Franklin: Join, or Die.
By the time Kitty returned to Medical, freshly-showered but without a smidge of bleeprin (which she was hoping to wheedle off of Doc Fitz), all of the new recruits were awake and largely healed.
And they were pissed.
“Um…hello,” Kitty said as she wandered nearby. “How’s it going?”
Seven voices started yelling invective at her all at once. She winced. “Yeah, okay, I should have expected that. Uh. Brief debrief: Yanked you from your bad situations to join this organization, the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Or the PPC, for short.” She did jazz hands at them. “Ta-da.”
“The bloody hell’d you do that for?” Toombs said. “I wasn’t in a bad situation! I was fine! I was just drinking a Coke!”
“My Coke,” Sean muttered.
“Children, do not make me go get the Klingon painstiks,” Kitty said, scowling, hoping she looked as fierce as she thought she did. “You were in a worse situation than you thought you were. Trust me. Alec? That Jaffa was going to kill you. B-Bozza?” She couldn’t help but snicker before getting serious again; Boromir scowled at her, which she could tell was significantly more intimidating than the one she’d tried earlier. “You were all shot up, and you were probably going to bleed out without my help. The rest of you idiots…” She eyed them. “Trust me. You guys were extremely bad off.”
“Why should I trust someone who looks like she’s barely out of primary school and also shot me?” Alec said.
“Because you really have no other choice,” Kitty said, and reached up to flick one of the bells on her headband, nervously this time. “That, or go back to die. I’ll wipe your memories. No skin off my bones.” She tried to play it cool, but she was shaking a very little bit. This needed to work out. Otherwise…otherwise she had no idea what would happen to her.
The Flowers wouldn’t toss her back out to wherever she came from, would they? Some Suvian creature with no memory before arriving in Headquarters, maybe just a wisp of an idea who would shred upon the wind. She had no idea, but she was sure that whatever it was, she wouldn’t like it.
“You’d do what?” Koster piped up.
“Wipe your memories,” she repeated. “I’ll do it, too.” She flicked the bell on her headband again. “You two—” she pointed at Alec and Boromir, “will go back to die, and the rest of you will go back to where I found you, which I’d honestly consider a fate worse than death.”
“Again, why? I had popcorn,” Spence said.
“And where did you get the popcorn?” Kitty asked.
Spence shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…had it.”
“Case in point,” Kitty said, and rolled her eyes.
“So why is that a fate worse than death?” Paddy said.
“Because there was literally nothing around you and all of you were acting like childish idiots,” she said, “and if that’s me saying that, you know it’s bad.”
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this,” Alec said, levering himself out of the bed.
“Fine, then stand somewhere else and you can listen to it over there. You want to die, or do you want to not be an absolute moron and do something with the rest of your life?”
There was silence for a moment, before Boromir finally stood, and winced, touching his midriff. “All things being equal, I’d prefer not to die.”
“Atta boy,” Kitty said, and winked at him. “Any more takers?”
Sean was blunt. “Will there be Coke?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Probably?”
“Can Paddy come?”
“Uh, duh, of course.”
“Sold.”
Kitty scrubbed at her face. FicPsych needed to figure out a way to get the guys from the scriptfic way less OOC, and fast. “That’s three. Koster? Toombs? Spence? Alec?”
“Sure,” Toombs said, shrugging. “I’ll do it. I still have no idea why you think where we came from is a fate worse than death.”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Kitty grumbled.
“Yeah, okay, why not,” Spence said, and folded his arms. “Koster? You in?”
“I guess, since everyone else is,” Koster said, and glared at Sean. “As long as he doesn’t hit me.”
“No promises,” Sean muttered.
Kitty looked expectantly at the final holdout. “Alec? Come on, buddy. You stay, or you die. That ain’t a threat, man, it’s a promise.”
Alec leveled a glare at her. She flicked one of the bells on her headband nervously again. That made him smirk, and she scowled. It was dumb, but he actually did scare her. Bond villains didn’t stop being Bond villains, no matter if they got dragged a little OOC by a Stargate: SG-1 crossover. That part of his backstory was still intact.
“I can’t let you walk around here if you’re not committed,” she said, keeping her voice level. “You gotta make your choice, dude.” She beckoned for him to come closer. He stayed where he was. No way in hell was she going to get any closer to someone who could kick her ass, so she said, “Look, not only are you going to die, you’re…going to agree about O’Neill,” she said, hoping that would get the point across without airing his dirty laundry to everyone else.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, followed by anger. “You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, come on, dude. You are busting my beans, I hope you know. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re making me do something drastic.” She pulled out her remote activator and programmed a portal, then drew a stapled stack of paper from her messenger bag and tossed it through. “Come on, then, stay with the class, don’t make me put you on a baby leash.” She glanced backwards. “The rest of you, stay here.”
“Or what?” That was Koster.
“Or I will personally come after each and every one of you with a painstik until your eyes explode. Stay. Here.” Kitty looked at Trevelyan. “Age before beauty.”
He frowned, but stepped through the portal. As Kitty followed, she could hear Sean say, “Quite violent, isn’t she?”
*
“Get down,” Kitty said, and elbowed Trevelyan. She could hear him sigh in annoyance as he crouched behind the rock.
“So are you taking me back, then?”
“Something like that. This is a simulation of what happens if I don’t come and get you.”
They watched as the simulated Jaffa shot the simulated Alec. The simulated Carter ran over, and they could hear what the simulated Alec said.
Kitty glanced at the real one next to her. There was so much anger and pain in his eyes that she wouldn’t be surprised if he spontaneously combusted.
“I’ve seen enough,” he snapped, and Kitty wordlessly programmed the portal to take them back.
*
“What was that all about?” Boromir said when they returned.
“Shut up,” Alec said. “I’m staying.”
Kitty’s shoulders relaxed. “Desperate times. Okay. Come on, gang. One more stop.”
“The hell do you mean, ‘one more stop’?” Spence said, sounding incredulous.
She sighed. “Time for us all to get evaluated.”
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – FicPsych
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1575
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, everyone gets hauled off to FicPsych to examine their suitability for agent status…including Kitty.
Evaluation #: FP-05487
Subject: Denethorion, B.
Evaluator: Chaudhry, C.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
C: Mr. Denethorion, thank you for your cooperation today.
D.: Not a problem.
C.: As I understand, you were the first to volunteer your services. Is that correct?
D.: Yes, that’s correct.
C.: Was there any particular reason why?
D.: I wasn’t especially keen on the idea of dying, to tell you the truth. [Evaluator’s Note: Subject’s tone was particularly dry.]
C.: Do you consider yourself to be of sound mind?
D.: Sure.
C.: Why do you say ‘sure’ instead of ‘yes’ or ‘no’?
D.: Because I have seen some serious shit, and I don’t think that anyone who’s gone through what I have is really of sound mind. Especially after being told that they’re supposed to be dead. That’d mess anyone up.
C.: I suppose.
D.: I mean, I’m just supposed to be a hacker. Suddenly there’s all these gang members trying to kill me and my friends? Until a few months ago, the most experience I had with weapons was Nerf guns. You know, stupid battles with my friends. That suddenly makes me qualified to kill people? I get nightmares. Probably more, after this. Shit.
C.: Are you comfortable with killing people?
D.: Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t think anyone is. But if it’s them or me, it better be me, you know what I’m saying?
C.: Like you said, you’re ‘not particularly keen on the idea of dying’.
D.: [Subject laughs.] Yeah. Exactly.
C.: Do you find the method of recruitment coercive?
D.: I don’t know. Like I said, I was going to die. Not a big fan of that. And even if I wasn’t…if we succeeded, I don’t know. Could I have gone back to normal after that? [Subject runs a hand through his hair.] This is…something to do, at least.
C.: I see.
D.: If you say that again, I’m done here. I don’t want to deal with a stereotypical psych.
C.: My apologies. I’m simply not sure what to say.
[There is silence for a moment.]
D.: You know I don’t have health insurance, right?
Evaluation #: FP-05488
Subject: Miller, S.
Evaluator: Ortega, B.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
O.: Mr. Miller. It’s very nice to meet you today.
M.: Sure, yeah, likewise.
O.: Why did you volunteer your services to the PPC?
M.: …I don’t know. I guess I was bored?
O.: …you were bored.
M.: Plus, I heard you guys have free soda. And a cafeteria.
O.: We technically do have a cafeteria, yes.
M.: What do you do around here? Protect some sort of…thing, right?
O.: Probationary Agent Callahan didn’t explain?
M.: No, not really.
O.: [Evaluator sighs.]
Evaluation #: FP-05489
Subject: Miller, P.
Evaluator: Carrick, G.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
C.: Thank you for seeing me today, Mr. Miller.
M.: Hi. Yeah. I’m…still not entirely sure what’s going on?
C.: Certainly. This is the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, an extradimensional organization devoted to ensuring the health and safety of all fictional universes.
M.: What do you mean by ‘fictional’?
C.: This may be hard to hear, Mr. Miller, but you come from a fictional universe. One that is very much real to you, but was created by a denizen of World One.
M.: What’s World One?
C.: The first world that the PPC ever catalogued – the Flowers’ world of origin.
M.: Okay. What are the Flowers?
C.: …this is going to be a long session, isn’t it.
Evaluation #: FP-05490
Subject: Toombs, D.
Evaluator: Finley, H.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
F.: Mr. Toombs. Thank you for seeing me.
T.: Yeah. What’s this about, then?
F.: Checking if you’re mentally fit for duty.
T.: So I really am a recruit involved in this crazy shit.
F.: Unless you’d rather leave, yes.
T.: That kind of seems like a bad idea. The kid said something about a ‘fate worse than death’.
F.: Probationary Agent Callahan may have been overstating.
T.: I don’t know, she certainly seemed to believe it.
F.: Moving on. How comfortable are you with killing?
T.: That kind of sounds like a trick question.
F.: How so?
T.: If I say I’m comfortable with it, you’ll lock me up for being a murderer. If I say I’m not, you’ll kick me out.
F.: Not at all. This is merely for placement.
T.: I’m not sure, then. I think I might be.
F.: Why do you say that?
T.: …I don’t know.
F.: Probationary Agent Callahan says that you came from an extraordinary situation. Tell me, do you recall any of your life before, ah, ‘the Coke incident’?
T.: [Subject frowns.] Now that you mention it…no, I don’t think so.
F.: How does that make you feel?
T.: Like I’m going to punch you in the face if you ask me that again.
F.: Apologies.
T.: It’s…[Subject seems very upset.] I don’t like it. To put it extremely fucking mildly. Do I even exist?
F.: Yes.
T.: How do you know?
Evaluation #: FP-05491
Subject: NLN, S.
Evaluator: Green, L.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
G.: Thank you for seeing me. Are you comfortable?
S.: Uh, I guess so. This entire situation makes me a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.
G.: I understand.
S.: I’m sure you do. [Evaluator’s Note: Subject seemed extremely sarcastic.]
G.: Are you comfortable with killing?
S.: [Subject laughs nervously.] Oh my God, no. Not at all. The sight of blood makes me vomit, to tell you the truth.
G.: All right.
S.: …what are you writing?
G.: It’s nothing bad. That question is for placement. Are you at all good with weapons otherwise?
S.: Now that is my wheelhouse.
Evaluation #: FP-05492
Subject: Koster, P.
Evaluator: Marciano, J.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
M.: Mr. Koster.
K. Can we hurry this up? Psychologists make me anxious.
M.: Psychologists make a lot of people anxious.
K. Are you going to show me some inkblots and tell me that I want to screw my mother?
M.: …no.
K. All right. So what do you want?
M.: I just have a few placement questions so I can evaluate your suitability for employment.
K. Wait, so you’re telling me that the girl with the bells didn’t actually have the authority to offer us jobs?
M.: …not as such, no.
K. I’m going to kill her.
M.: Please don’t.
Evaluation #: FP-05493
Subject: Trevelyan, A.
Evaluator: Moore, P.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
M.: Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Trevelyan.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: This isn’t an interrogation, you can relax.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Please, Mr. Trevelyan. I just have a few questions for you.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: All right. How comfortable are you with killing?
T.: Fuck you. Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: [Evaluator sighs.]
Evaluation #: FP-05494
Subject: Callahan, K.
Evaluator: Andreev, K.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
A.: Probationary Agent Callahan.
C.: Am I gonna get fired?
A.: What? No.
C.: [Subject sighs, presumably in relief.]
A.: This is your onboarding evaluation.
C.: Wh-what? Does this mean I’m going to be a full agent?
A.: Depending on your and your candidates’ suitability for the positions, yes.
C.: …that really does not fill me with confidence.
A.: How comfortable are you with killing?
C.: [Subject shrugs.] I don’t know. I could be? I’ve never been put in a position where I needed to before. I mean, I know how bad Mary Sues are. I guess I could do it to get rid of them.
A.: Why did you volunteer your services to the PPC?
C.: Truth be told, man, I don’t really know anything else. I just kind of showed up here one day. I might as well, right? Give something back?
A.: So you have a strong sense of duty.
C.: I dunno. I mean, I guess you could call it that.
A.: It says here in your file that you’ve been training with weapons – largely melee, though some ranged and gunpowder-propelled as well. Is this part of your inclination to perhaps be comfortable with killing?
C.: I mean…it was something to do.
A.: Why have you been avoiding gunpowder-propelled weapons?
C.: I don’t like guns.
A.: Is there any particular reason for that?
C.: I just don’t. You shouldn’t kill people from too far away. It’s not right. Can’t charge ‘em that way, either, so. Point’s kind of moot. Can we move on?
A.: Certainly. Why did you choose to recruit these seven men?
[Subject is silent.]
A.: Callahan?
C.: Because it’s not right to leave people to die. Not when they could be alive. And it’s not right to leave them in some kind of hellish limbo torture space like that scriptfic. I don’t know if you’re the one interviewing the others, but they’re completely different than they should be. They’re half-lobotomized. If people are so far removed from their canon that they’re basically different people, then why shouldn’t we take them on? [Subject is trying not to cry.] Why shouldn’t we take their help? They can help us, and it’s the right thing to do besides!
[There is silence for a moment.]
A.: Thank you, Probationary Agent Callahan. That will be all.
C.: What?
A.: That is the end of your evaluation. You may go. We will look over these notes and determine your suitability.
C.: …thank you, I guess.
A.: Goodbye, Probationary Agent.
C.: Bye.
Evaluation #: FP-05493
Subject: Trevelyan, A.
Evaluator: Moore, P.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
[Evaluator’s Note: There has been an uncomfortable silence in the room for thirty minutes.]
M.: …If I may ask, why did you decide to join?
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan, please take this seriously.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Your previous history would seem to indicate a disdain for if not outright hatred of structures of authority, particularly those where you would be called ‘agent’. Is that correct?
[There is silence for a moment.]
M.: I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. However, this organization is fundamentally different from what you’re familiar with. We don’t carry the baggage you have with MI-6 and the British government as a whole. We are not responsible for that history, Mr. Trevelyan. We are not responsible for what happened to your family. And for what it’s worth, I, for one, am sorry.
[There is silence for a moment.]
T.: Stop.
M.: Pardon?
T.: This isn’t going to work.
M.: I don’t know what you mean.
T.: I don’t know where you got your information, but it’s faulty. I’m a U.S. Air Force adjunct. Nothing more.
M.: I don’t believe that, and neither do you.
T.: You don’t have the first idea about what I believe.
M.: You would be surprised, Mr. Trevelyan.
[There is silence for a moment.]
T.: No.
M.: ‘No’, what?
T.: [There is the sound of a chair scraping across the floor.] ‘No’, I’m done.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan, please sit down.
T.: Wipe my memory, send me back to die. I refuse to put up with this.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan—
T.: Take me to the Callahan girl.
M.: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
T.: Take me to her. Now.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan—!
[There are the sounds of a scuffle followed by a choked cry, presumably coming from Evaluator. There is the sound of the Evaluation Room door opening and closing.
End Recording.]
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Betrayal
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears and violence
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1277
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, we really start to wonder how Alec and Kitty ever ended up partnered.
(And to forestall any Irishpicking complaints…well, the actual word Sean should have said wouldn’t have been known by the American writer of the scriptfic he came from. So.)
When the door slammed shut to the last Evaluation Room, Kitty turned to grin at its erstwhile occupant. “Alec! Man, they really gave you the ol’ workin’ over, huh?” she said, miming a few jabs at the air.
“Shut up,” he growled, and before she could react, he’d slammed her up against the wall.
“What are you—” she choked.
“Send. Me. Back,” he hissed.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Boromir shouted, wrestling him away from her. “Jesus Christ, didn’t your parents raise you better than to beat up on little kids?”
“Actually,” Alec said, turning towards him with a feral grin, “they didn’t raise me at all.” And he punched Boromir in the face.
“Ohh, I wish I still had that popcorn,” Toombs muttered to nobody in particular.
Boromir roared in pain and tackled Alec into the wall; Alec responded to this by kneeing him in the face. There was a spray of blood, and several things happened at once:
Sean and Paddy jumped in to pull Boromir out of striking range; Spence turned away, leaned over, and put his palms on his thighs, breathing heavily to forestall his nausea; Koster decided that it was his turn to get in on the action, and once Boromir was out of the way, ducked in to punch Alec in the throat; and Toombs came at Alec from the other side, no longer lamenting his lost popcorn.
Alec took the throat punch and lurched along the wall, winded, before catching a fist in the gut from Toombs. He leaned forward and flicked his head up, catching Toombs in the chin; the younger man stumbled backwards, disoriented from the hit. Still coughing, Alec turned towards Koster, the other man’s haymaker whiffing past his ear. That gave him the opportunity to slam a fist into Koster’s gut, and when Koster doubled over, Alec drove an elbow into his kidney, felling him.
Alec straightened up, massaging his throat. “Anyone else?” he snapped, his voice hoarse.
“No, not really,” Spence said, still facing the other way.
“Good,” Alec said, and turned to walk down the hall. “If you won’t send me back, I’ll go find someone who will.”
“You can’t do this!” Kitty shouted after him.
“Watch me.”
“I don’t believe you!” she snarled, stalking slowly down the hall. “You said you would and now you’re going back on your word! You—you traitor!”
He stopped for just a second, and then kept walking. “Why break a perfectly good habit?”
Kitty stopped walking after him, and she started shaking, a scream building in her throat, before she charged at him, an animal noise tearing itself from her. She leapt on his back, still screaming, one arm hooked around his wounded throat, the other hammering into his kidneys.
“I’m not going to let you do this!” she shrieked. “I’m not going to let you kill me!”
He choked and tried to shake her off. No use. The girl had a grip like a terrier.
(“Should we…you know…stop her?” Toombs panted.
Boromir coughed. “Nah.”)
Alec had finally managed to work his fingers under her arm and tear her away. She dropped, but ran at him again, trying to knock him down. It was about as effective as throwing a pebble at a tree. He turned and pushed her into the wall, but she just ran at him once more, her eyes fiery. “You’re so! Self! Centered!” she shouted at him, swinging wildly. “Everything you’ve ever done has been self-centered! Betraying MI-6? Self-centered! Stealing the GoldenEye? Self-centered! Refusing to let Carter go after she didn’t love you anymore? Self! Bloody! Centered! And now you want to go back and give up and die because you can’t stand the idea of working for someone else because you’re so! Self! Centered! I can’t believe I thought this would ever work, I can’t believe I ever started with you! So fine!” she said, stepping back and folding her arms. “Go back and kill yourself, go back and ruin this, go back and get me sentenced to death or whatever’ll happen to me if I fail! Go back and keep being self-centered! After all,” she said, her tone turning nasty, “why break a perfectly good habit, right?”
She turned on her heel and walked back towards the rest of the group, her shoulders squared. It didn’t take Alec’s trained eye to see that she was trying to stop from shaking.
Alec stood there, clenching his fists and trying not to cough. How did she know a damn thing about him, about what he’d been through? How dare she call him self-centered! He’d never been an altruist, but he’d done what he’d done to right a wrong. A betrayal for a betrayal – and honestly, the entirety of the Bank of England for the loss of human life the British had wrought was a petty price. And as for Carter…
…he didn’t want to think about Carter.
“Oi, mate,” Sean said, and Alec’s head snapped around to look at him. “Come on back here. Quit being a dick.”
“And apologize,” said Paddy.
“Yeah, we’ve all got to go back to Medical now, idiot,” Boromir said thickly.
“If I may make a suggestion?” Spence said dryly, leaning against the wall. “Don’t kill yourself.”
“You can only come back if we get free hits,” Koster muttered, and Toombs smacked him on the back of the head.
“Not the time. We’ll get him later. So, what’s it gonna be, jackass? Take the job, or leave and get the class pet killed?”
Kitty still had her back turned, her arms clearly folded, shaking so hard the bells on her headband were jingling. Alec sighed and walked back down the hallway. “I—”
Wham. Kitty had turned and punched him in the face with one fluid motion.
“If you’re going to leave, don’t bother with an explanation,” she hissed.
“…I was going to say that I’m staying,” he said, his voice still hoarse.
“You had better mean it this time,” she said.
“If not, we’ll hold you down while she gets free punches,” Paddy said.
Alec scoffed, then coughed. “Why?”
“You think you’re the only one who left something behind to be here?” Boromir said bluntly. “I liked my life. I liked my friends. Hell, I have a little brother I’m never going to see again, because, like you, I’m a dead man. And at least you’re mostly who you’re ‘supposed’ to be. I’m not. So even if I do see Faramir again, it won’t be him. But you don’t see me turning my back.”
“If I may state the obvious, being alive is generally considered better than being dead,” Koster said.
“And I, personally, am dealing with an existential crisis,” Toombs said. “I could fix that by going back to the place I came from, easy. But I won’t.”
“You really were being a berk, Alec,” Spence said, then paused. “Berk.”
“I already said that I’m staying,” Alec said.
“You’d better,” Kitty said again, and hit him in the chest.
“Ow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. It had barely hurt.
She scowled at him, because the sarcasm had been plain. “Let’s just go back to Medical,” she sighed. “And you—” she pointed at Alec, “get to explain this to Doc Fitz. Because all of this?” She waved a hand to indicate the entire group and their injuries. “Is your fault. You berk.” She glanced at Spence. “Did I use that right?”
He nodded.
“Good. Okay. Let’s go. And if you try and make a break for it again, Trevelyan, I swear to all the gods I will find you an ankle monitor.”
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – The Kübler-Ross Model
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears, because all of these idiots are foulmouthed morons
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1792
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, it’s the moment of truth. Pretend like you don’t know what happens. It’s more fun that way.
“Please stop doing this,” the doctor had said, setting Boromir’s nose.
“This is not my fault,” she’d said for the nth time, and pointed at Alec. She’d noticed that Dr. Fitzgerald was starting to look like a tomato every time she showed up with the potential recruits.
“I honestly don’t care who started it, I’ll finish it. Don’t make me ban all of you.”
“Aw, Doc. That’d just be cruel.”
Once everyone had been patched up again, Kitty shooed them all out of Medical. She leaned against the wall. “Phew. Okay.”
“What now?” That was Toombs.
“Well, we’ve all been evaluated, we’ve all had our boo-boos seen to, and we’ve all gotten into an inaugural fistfight, so I guess that’s the initiation,” Kitty said. “Now I guess it’s time to go Upstairs.”
“…hang on, did I just hear that capital letter?” Paddy said.
“Probably,” Kitty said, and shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Boromir said.
“Because you probably should,” Sean drawled.
“Nothing for it, I guess,” Koster said. “What, do we follow you?”
“Eh, sort of,” Kitty said, and wiggled her hand. “I have to not think about where I’m going.”
“…what?” That was the first time Alec had spoken in about an hour. He’d been uncharacteristically silent about the entire situation. Kitty rather thought he’d have a lot more to say on the subject of seeing the PPC’s equivalent of M, but he’d been quiet ever since they’d had their argument.
She glanced back at him. “That’s how this place works. There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going, that kind of thing.”
“That’s insane,” he scoffed.
Kitty shrugged. “Welcome to the PPC. Like I said, you get used to it. Follow follow.” She took off at a light jog, her headband jingling as she sang to herself. “There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going, there’s no knowing where we’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing, is it raining, is it snowing, is a hurricane a-blowing…”
“I have no idea what she’s doing,” she heard Boromir said flatly, before she heard footsteps behind her.
“Meh,” Koster said, and soon there were more footsteps. After a few minutes, she arrived at a bank of elevators and tapped her feet, continuing to hum.
“We got everyone?” she asked, scanning the crowd. As expected, Alec headed up the rear, looking extremely uncomfortable. “Cool.” She slammed the ‘up’ button on the elevator with her palm, and one of the elevators beeped, the door opening. “Nice. Everybody in!”
Thankfully, the elevator seemed to expand as all eight people went into it, so they weren’t packed in like sardines. “Thank the Maker for smart surfaces,” Kitty said, and slammed the top button.
As in all full elevators, there was awkward shuffling and awkward music. A MIDI version of ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ played over the speakers.
“Please kill me,” Toombs muttered into his hands.
“No backing out now,” Koster said, and slapped him on the back.
“Are you sure?” Spence said under his breath.
At that precise moment, the doors opened, and Kitty skipped out. “Aaand we’re here! Please keep your hands and arms inside the hallway, don’t lick anything you can’t identify, and please, for the love of Geb, be nice to any plant that you see.”
“That last one’s a bit of a stretch,” Spence said.
“They’re our bosses,” Kitty said. “Don’t annoy the Flowers.”
“This is a bridge too far,” Alec said. “I’m not going to take orders from a geranium.”
“The one we’re seeing is a sunflower, and for God’s sake, if you try to run again, I will…do…something,” Kitty said lamely.
“I’m quaking in my boots,” Alec’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Shut up,” Kitty muttered. “Aaaand we’re here.” True enough, as they’d been walking and arguing, they’d arrived at a door labeled ‘Sunflower Official – Head of Department of Mary Sues’.
Everyone stared at it.
“This is a prank, right?” Sean said. “We can’t really be bossed around by plants.”
“It’s true,” Paddy said, and everyone turned to look at him. He had a way of fading into the background. “I asked a lot of questions during my interview. She’s telling the truth. Unless we get shuffled around to a different department, we are going to take orders from a sunflower.” He paused. “He wears a suit.”
“Excuse me?” Toombs sputtered.
“…none of you asked questions?” Paddy asked, a little surprised.
“I was too busy freaking out over my life,” Toombs said. “Or lack thereof.”
“What?” Spence said.
“Oh, God. Nothing.”
Kitty sighed. “Okay, uh, I probably should have explained a lot more—”
“No shit!” Koster said.
“Don’t swear in front of—”
Paddy rolled his eyes. “Sean, for the love of fuck, shut up.”
There was silence following Paddy’s statement. He looked around. “What? I’m sixteen! I can bloody curse the air blue if I like!”
“Okay!” Kitty said brightly, trying to take control of the situation. “Are we ready, or are we gonna keep bickering?”
“…I like bickering,” Spence said. “It means we can put this off.”
Boromir squared his shoulders. “Let’s do this. It’s going to happen anyway, right? Why delay? Let’s just…rip the band-aid off.”
Kitty eyed him. “Man, it’s weird to hear you say that. Okay, uh, executive decision! Here we go!” And before anyone could stop her, she opened the door.
“Oh, shit,” Koster muttered.
Probationary Agent Callahan. I see you’re back.
“Yessir!” Kitty said, snapping the Sunflower Official a salute.
And you’ve brought some friends. Could you please make sure they don’t run away?
Kitty looked behind her and saw Alec bolting out the door. She turned and ran after him. “Aleksei Sonovovich Trevelyan, you get back here this instant!”
“That’s not my middle name!” he shouted back.
“I know!”
*
With the help of the rest of the crew, Alec was quickly wrangled back into the room, and Kitty slammed the door shut behind them. “Right. Uh. Sorry about that, sir. Where were we?”
The Sunflower Official appeared to look at them uncertainly – at least, if Kitty was any good at reading Flower expressions, which she probably was not. Are you sure that this is the group you want to go with?
Kitty nodded vigorously. “Yessir.”
I’ve seen their FicPsych files. They’re…interesting. Especially Mr. Trevelyan’s.
Everyone turned to look at Alec, who didn’t even bother to react.
“All right,” Kitty said, shaking so much the bells on her headband were jingling. “I mean, that doesn’t surprise me, sir.”
And yours.
“Uh, I’m sorry?”
The Sunflower Official tapped a folder on his desk with a frond. Your temperament. And your rationale for this program. Very interesting.
“Yessir, and?” She was practically vibrating now.
Welcome to the PPC, Agent Callahan.
Kitty nearly collapsed in relief. “And the rest?”
Full agent status as well.
There was the sound of quiet cheering and high-fiving from behind Kitty. “All right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Neat,” Kitty said, letting out a breath.
I’ve decided to place everyone except Agent Trevelyan– Alec twitched. –in a larger team, to be called Team Phoenix. Agent Trevelyan– Alec twitched again. –will be nominally part of this team as well.
“…nominally?” Kitty said.
You two are to be partnered.
“Oh, what the fuck!” Alec shouted.
Boromir clapped his hand over Alec’s mouth. “Shut. Up,” he hissed.
“Uh, sir, with all due respect, are you really sure that’s a good idea?” Kitty asked, flicking one of the bells on her headband repeatedly.
Judging by your evaluations, you two will balance each other out. Kitty looked sideways at Alec, who looked like he was about to scream if not for the hand over his mouth.
“I think he might murder me in my sleep,” Kitty said, leaning in closer to the Sunflower Official. “Or maybe out of my sleep. I think he might murder me, is what I’m saying.”
I am confident that he won’t murder you, Agent Callahan, the Sunflower Official said, loud enough to carry. Alec growled.
“Are you sure?” Kitty said, a little louder.
Quite sure.
“Because we’ll kill him before he gets the chance,” Sean said stubbornly.
“Yeah. I mean, I won’t, but the sentiment stands.” Spence, of course.
“I could quite easily snap his neck from here,” Boromir said, sounding too cheerful. “I’ve got no experience with it, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”
Alec said something muffled, doubtless full of swearing.
“If he kills me, I’ll haunt the berk,” Kitty muttered.
…where did you learn that word?
“Spence.”
…this may have been a bad idea. The Sunflower Official shuffled some papers on his desk. The Team’s response center is directly across from yours, Agent Callahan. In case of emergency.
“Oh. Neat, sir.” She paused. “…I’m still locking my door, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I can pick locks,” Alec muttered, pulling Boromir’s hand off his mouth.
“See? He’s gonna murder me.”
“We’ll put him on a baby leash,” Toombs said, and smirked.
“I changed my mind,” Alec said. “I’ll kill you first.”
The Sunflower Official put his fronds to his petals. Yes. This was absolutely a bad idea, he muttered. Then, louder: Please leave.
“Yessir.” Kitty turned around. “Shoo.”
Alec glared at her. “You can’t tell me what to—”
“I will wait until you are asleep and duct-tape you to the ceiling, you absolute berk. I’ll have help, too, ‘cause I can’t reach that high.”
“With pleasure,” Boromir said, pushing Alec out the door. “Can we surround him and herd him to the elevator?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Alec said, sounding resigned. “No use running now. We’re all stuck in it.”
“Cheer up,” Kitty said, skipping alongside the newly-formed Team. “This is gonna be fun!”
“Do you know what ‘fun’ is?” Sean asked.
“Uh, this, clearly,” Kitty said, rolling her eyes as they approached the elevator. “Ooh! We’re gonna get proper uniforms! I bet they’ll be in our response centers when we get there.”
Kitty took a deep breath and basked in the feeling of being a proper agent instead of a probationer, ignoring the excited chatter behind her as they walked down the hall to their response centers. She’d done it. She’d done the impossible, done something crazy, and come out on the other side with a title and a flashpatch.
She was probably going to cry when she got back to her own response center, but she was holding it in for now.
After a few moments, they arrived at Kitty’s response center, with a new door across from it, ‘Team Phoenix’ on the agent nameplate. Everyone stopped, looking at it, before Kitty finally smiled, took another deep breath, and pushed the door open.
“Welcome home.”
Canon: James Bond/Stargate: SG-1
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Trevelyan, A. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 816
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist, though this one’s a little bit of a self-drag. Stop writing “Alec lives due to extraordinary circumstances” fic, past me.
Probationary Agent Callahan.
“Yessir,” Kitty said, snapping a salute to the suited sunflower behind the desk.
I have consulted with the other Flowers. Your…Project Phoenix…has our approval. You will have one chance at this; it is extremely risky. And at the first sign of trouble, we will pull the plug. Do you understand?
“Yessir,” Kitty said crisply. “I understand, sir.”
The Sunflower Official sighed as much as a Flower was able. He appreciated the modicum of respect that he was given by new and probationary agents, such as Callahan, who was clearly trying to make a good impression. And if she made it to full agent status, he knew that the respect absolutely would not last. He had the impression that she would be one of the Agents who’d eventually snap. Hopefully without the flamethrower.
Well? What are you waiting for? he said impatiently. Go get on with it!
“Yessir!” Kitty turned and ran out of the office. The Sunflower Official sighed again. This would either go very well, or very badly.
If he were a betting Flower, he’d bet on the latter.
Kitty nervously checked her gear for what must have been the twelfth time. This was the make-or-break time for her. Either she’d succeed and get to become a full-fledged agent or…she wouldn’t.
The SO was right; the plan was risky, but she hadn’t been able to come up with anything else. Too many agents had been breaking lately, and her strategy was one for recruitment.
An extremely unorthodox strategy for recruitment, but a strategy all the same.
She set the portal, took several deep breaths, upscaled to hyperventilating, and barreled through.
“Oof,” she muttered after she’d gotten back to her feet. Rushing through portals, she’d now discovered, was one way to end up tumbling into the new canon like a complete fool. She brushed herself off and checked her disguise. She’d set the thing properly – U.S. Air Force BDUs, with a name tag reading ‘Callahan’.
At least this planet was, like most worlds in SG-1 canon, largely Earthlike, so there was no need for specialized breathing devices, and the gravity was Earth-standard, or close enough to it. Kitty hopped from foot to foot nervously. She’d only brought one weapon – the canon-compliant zat’nik’tel. Or at least, canon-compliant for one of the canons involved, anyway, though most of what had transpired barely qualified as a Bond fic anymore, anyway. The only connection was the presence of Trevelyan’s clone.
And once he was out of the picture, everything would snap back to normal.
And speak of the devil – here he came. Kitty ducked down behind a rock, watching the fic play out. At least there wasn’t much of the relevant part left. As usual, SG-1 were locked in combat with some Jaffa who were loyal to their local Goa’uld; Kitty didn’t particularly care which.
This was going to take some expert timing. Trevelyan had been shunted away from the rest of the group, and a Jaffa was bearing down on him, wielding a staff weapon. Kitty knew he was going to shoot Trevelyan, which would lead to a heartfelt deathbed confession that he was fine with Sam dating O’Neill, really.
Not on her watch.
She took careful aim, and fired. The Jaffa dropped, paralyzed by the zat’s stun setting.
Trevelyan looked behind himself at Kitty, crouched behind the rock. “Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, that’s a fine thing to say to someone who just saved your life,” Kitty groused, and stood up. “He was going to turn you into crispy barbecue, and what’s the thanks I get? ‘Who the hell are you’? I’ve half a mind to leave you here to die, you egg.”
“…sorry?”
“I cannot believe I ever thought this was a good idea,” Kitty said, and rolled her eyes. “This might sting a bit.” Before Trevelyan could dodge, she fired again, and he fell to the ground, stunned.
Grumbling about ungrateful rescue-ees, Kitty set the remote activator back for her own response center, grabbed the semi-canonical by his collar, and dragged him through the portal.
“Ra on a Ritz cracker, you weigh about six hundred pounds with all that gear, you know that, right?” Kitty said to the paralyzed Trevelyan. Then she raised her voice. “Oi! Doc!”
Dr. Fitzgerald poked his head out of the door. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Kitty said cheerfully. “If you could kindly see to our new recruit? He’s only been hit with a zat’nik’tel, nothing too serious. And could you please keep him sedated until I get back with the rest of them? There’s going to be a lot to explain, and I think I need to do that before everyone gets sent off to FicPsych.”
“You’re bringing in more?!”
Kitty winked. “I’ve got my orders. Gotta shoot!” She took off running down the hallway, theoretically back towards her response center.
Next stop: Boromir.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Denethorion, B.
Canon: Lord of the Rings
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Denethorion, B. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 550
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist, but man, I kind of wish this one did.
Once Kitty had gotten sufficiently lost to make it back to her response center, she started laughing a little bit. This entire thing was crazy, but as with many things in the PPC, she’d learned, it just might be crazy enough to work.
She pulled up the next file. This one was unorthodox, but he’d be useful indeed. That done, she went back to the small armory in her RC and replaced the zat’nik’tel with a stun gun. Not normally canon-compliant, but, well…this was a special case. She checked to be sure there was a cartridge loaded, and grabbed a couple more, just in case she missed. It wasn’t like she’d exactly trained too much with any sort of firearm. She didn’t like them at all, really.
She checked the disguise generator settings to be sure that she wouldn’t be dropping in as an Air Force Ensign again, and hopped through the portal. She’d learned her lesson about running full-tilt.
When she stepped out of the portal, she looked down at herself. Oh, yes. Matrix-style black trenchcoat over pure 1990s raver cybergoth? Oh, hell yes. This was the coolest thing she’d ever worn, ever. (Mostly, she’d only ever worn her PPC uniform, but the point stood.)
Again, the timing on this one was going to be tricky. The premise of this one was a cyberpunk AU, where the One Ring was a virus created by Sauron, a master hacker, who could only be stopped by inflicting the virus on his own servers. It was actually a good fic, but this version of Boromir was pretty useful…and was never actually shown to die.
Jackpot.
She ducked behind a bit of busted concrete wall with rusted rebar sticking out; this place had clearly seen destruction. And Boromir, aka Boz, aka Bozza – hacker name ‘BozzaNova’, which Kitty 100% could not actually believe – was fighting off his attackers with an Uzi.
Oh, yes. Useful indeed.
He wasn’t entirely successful. Even though he’d ended up killing every single one of the ‘Ork’ gang members Sauron had hired to attack him, he’d been grievously wounded in the attempt. Kevlar could only do so much. He tapped out a final message to Aragorn – LongStrides – on his wrist computer, stumbled backwards, and…
“Oi,” Kitty said. “Time to go, Bozza.” She snickered. “Bozza. Oh my God…”
“…who…?” the semi-canonical asked, dazed.
“Nah,” Kitty said, programming the portal and refusing to explain. “Ask me later. Let’s go.” She hopped out of hiding, threw her arm over his shoulders, and brought the both of them through.
“Gunshot wounds, triage!” Kitty yelled.
Dr. Fitzgerald turned around from ten feet away. “No need to shout. I’m literally right here. Is that…is that Boromir?”
“Nope,” she said, snickering. “Bozza.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Can you just…do the thing? Got a few more.”
“Please, no.”
“Too bad,” Kitty said cheerfully, and looked at her wounded charge. Boromir had passed out. “Oops, I think he’s lost too much blood. Choppity choppity!”
“I am really starting to hate you, you know,” the doctor said.
“Yeah, I figured. Time to go!” She sat Boromir down on the nearest bed and skipped out of Medical, not even minding the fact that she was covered in blood.
The next – and last – one…now that was going to be a doozy.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.
Canon: Patriot Games, Don’t Say a Word, Ronin, Airborne
Rating: E
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Target: Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D. [Recruitment]
Word Count: 801
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
All of the fics cited don’t really exist. This one, though, is essentially me from 2001. I am so sorry, everyone.
Kitty returned to her response center, sat down, and closed her eyes. This one was going to suck. It was the only way to get these guys – they’d all be varying degrees of OOC, but at least this would make the fic they came from utterly implode, reducing damage to all their canons at once.
She was helping, really. The SO ought to be proud of her.
She checked the stun gun on her belt and decided to grab a few more cartridges. This was going to be either very easy, or very, very difficult.
Also, she’d probably throw up after everything was over.
She didn’t bother with the disguise generator. It didn’t matter. Nothing was described and everything was terrible.
Kitty stretched, flicked one of the bells on her cat-ear headband for luck, cracked her knuckles, and set the portal. “Alley-oop!”
This was going to be just the worst.
Kitty: *stumbles when she portals in* Aw, crap. *hides behind something made of Generic Surface*
Sean: I enjoy the smooth, intriguing flavor of Vanilla Coke!
Kitty: *muttering to herself* I hate my life and I hate my choices.
Paddy: Hey, I want some!
Sean: No, little brother! Get your own! Paddy: Awww, Sean’s being meeean! :(
Koster: *steals the Coke*
Sean: Grr! *punches Koster*
Kitty: *thinking* Christ alive. Who wrote this? They’re way too obsessed with Sean Bean. Everyone except Paddy is a Sean Bean. This is gonna be a disaster.
Toombs: *steals the Coke during the fistfight* Hehehe. >:3
Kitty: *thinking* So, where are we? I can’t see…anywhere. It’s just a blank white space. Oh, this hurts my eyes. I’m gonna yartz. *tries not to puke*
Sean: *grabs Koster’s arm and starts hitting him with it* Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!
Koster: Ow! Sean! You’re such an asshole!
Sean: DON’T SWEAR AROUND MY BABY BROTHER! *punches him again*
Paddy: Sean! I’m sixteen!
Toombs: *noisily drinks the Coke through a straw and watches the fight*
Spence: *has a bucket of popcorn* Want some?
Toombs: Yeah, sure. *eats some popcorn*
Kitty: *thinking* Why. Why did I do this to myself? They are fighting. Over Vanilla Coke. But at least this is basically the only badfic in each of these fandoms. I should get a freakin’ medal for this.
Sean: *looks up* Hey! DAVEY! GIVE ME BACK MY COKE!
Toombs: *turns bright red with anger* DON’T CALL ME DAVEY!
Kitty: *ears bleeding* Ow.
Koster: *has a nosebleed from being punched so much* Sean! Stop it! I’m sorry!
Spence: *screams* Not the blood! *turns around and pukes*
Everyone: Ewwww!
Kitty: *muttering* All right, that’s it. *stands up* Hey idiots!
Everyone: *turns to look at her*
Paddy: Uh, who are you?
Kitty: Your freakin’ savior, that’s who. Now hold still. *draws stun gun and fires*
Paddy: *falls down*
Sean: HEY! DON’T HURT MY LITTLE BROTHER! *draws Harry Potter wand* WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!
Kitty: *dodges* Oh, for the love of Iau, shut UP! *reloads stun gun and shoots him* See? You’ve got me using the Capslock of Rage, too! This is intolerable! *reloads stun gun and shoots Koster*
Koster: *is already on the ground from being hit so much* *twitches*
Kitty: Okay, that was probably overkill. The rest of you gonna do anything, or just stand there?
Spence: …I don’t like violence…
Kitty: Cool. Byeeee. *reloads and shoots him with stun gun*
Spence: *drops popcorn* *falls down*
Kitty: Last one. *reloads stun gun*
Toombs: AAAAA! *starts to run away*
Kitty: *chases after him* Oh, no you don’t! *slips in Spence’s puke* *falls down* GAH! EW!
Toombs: AAAAA! *continues running*
Kitty: Gross! God! I hate this! *chases Toombs* *shoots at him with the stun gun* *misses*
Toombs: AAAAA! *continues running*
Kitty: Hmm…I can do whatever I want here…FLYING NINJA KICK! *leaps up and flying ninja kicks Toombs to the ground*
Toombs: ACK! *falls down*
Kitty: *reloads stun gun and shoots him with it* Sweet zombie apocalypse. That’s everyone, right? Okay. Uh…I can still do whatever I want because this is a scriptfic. *sets a portal to Medical* *levitates all of the stunned semi-canonicals through it* *jumps through herself*
Kitty shook herself and tried not to trip over the pile of stunned canonicals. “Doc?” she said weakly. “You got a bucket?”
Dr. Fitzgerald handed her a trashcan. She threw up into it.
“Uh…I hit all of these guys with a stun gun,” she said.
“Why are you covered in vomit?” the doctor asked, before shaking his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“You really don’t,” Kitty said. “I think I need a shower. Some bleeprin and a shower. And then I need to come talk to these guys.” She stumbled out of Medical, feeling like she was going to throw up again. She could keep it in until she got back to her response center. Probably.
And soon, she could stop with the mature act, because it was really beginning to wear on her.
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Choices
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears
Agents: Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1186
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, it’s time for everyone to make their choice. In the words of Benjamin Franklin: Join, or Die.
By the time Kitty returned to Medical, freshly-showered but without a smidge of bleeprin (which she was hoping to wheedle off of Doc Fitz), all of the new recruits were awake and largely healed.
And they were pissed.
“Um…hello,” Kitty said as she wandered nearby. “How’s it going?”
Seven voices started yelling invective at her all at once. She winced. “Yeah, okay, I should have expected that. Uh. Brief debrief: Yanked you from your bad situations to join this organization, the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Or the PPC, for short.” She did jazz hands at them. “Ta-da.”
“The bloody hell’d you do that for?” Toombs said. “I wasn’t in a bad situation! I was fine! I was just drinking a Coke!”
“My Coke,” Sean muttered.
“Children, do not make me go get the Klingon painstiks,” Kitty said, scowling, hoping she looked as fierce as she thought she did. “You were in a worse situation than you thought you were. Trust me. Alec? That Jaffa was going to kill you. B-Bozza?” She couldn’t help but snicker before getting serious again; Boromir scowled at her, which she could tell was significantly more intimidating than the one she’d tried earlier. “You were all shot up, and you were probably going to bleed out without my help. The rest of you idiots…” She eyed them. “Trust me. You guys were extremely bad off.”
“Why should I trust someone who looks like she’s barely out of primary school and also shot me?” Alec said.
“Because you really have no other choice,” Kitty said, and reached up to flick one of the bells on her headband, nervously this time. “That, or go back to die. I’ll wipe your memories. No skin off my bones.” She tried to play it cool, but she was shaking a very little bit. This needed to work out. Otherwise…otherwise she had no idea what would happen to her.
The Flowers wouldn’t toss her back out to wherever she came from, would they? Some Suvian creature with no memory before arriving in Headquarters, maybe just a wisp of an idea who would shred upon the wind. She had no idea, but she was sure that whatever it was, she wouldn’t like it.
“You’d do what?” Koster piped up.
“Wipe your memories,” she repeated. “I’ll do it, too.” She flicked the bell on her headband again. “You two—” she pointed at Alec and Boromir, “will go back to die, and the rest of you will go back to where I found you, which I’d honestly consider a fate worse than death.”
“Again, why? I had popcorn,” Spence said.
“And where did you get the popcorn?” Kitty asked.
Spence shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…had it.”
“Case in point,” Kitty said, and rolled her eyes.
“So why is that a fate worse than death?” Paddy said.
“Because there was literally nothing around you and all of you were acting like childish idiots,” she said, “and if that’s me saying that, you know it’s bad.”
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this,” Alec said, levering himself out of the bed.
“Fine, then stand somewhere else and you can listen to it over there. You want to die, or do you want to not be an absolute moron and do something with the rest of your life?”
There was silence for a moment, before Boromir finally stood, and winced, touching his midriff. “All things being equal, I’d prefer not to die.”
“Atta boy,” Kitty said, and winked at him. “Any more takers?”
Sean was blunt. “Will there be Coke?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Probably?”
“Can Paddy come?”
“Uh, duh, of course.”
“Sold.”
Kitty scrubbed at her face. FicPsych needed to figure out a way to get the guys from the scriptfic way less OOC, and fast. “That’s three. Koster? Toombs? Spence? Alec?”
“Sure,” Toombs said, shrugging. “I’ll do it. I still have no idea why you think where we came from is a fate worse than death.”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Kitty grumbled.
“Yeah, okay, why not,” Spence said, and folded his arms. “Koster? You in?”
“I guess, since everyone else is,” Koster said, and glared at Sean. “As long as he doesn’t hit me.”
“No promises,” Sean muttered.
Kitty looked expectantly at the final holdout. “Alec? Come on, buddy. You stay, or you die. That ain’t a threat, man, it’s a promise.”
Alec leveled a glare at her. She flicked one of the bells on her headband nervously again. That made him smirk, and she scowled. It was dumb, but he actually did scare her. Bond villains didn’t stop being Bond villains, no matter if they got dragged a little OOC by a Stargate: SG-1 crossover. That part of his backstory was still intact.
“I can’t let you walk around here if you’re not committed,” she said, keeping her voice level. “You gotta make your choice, dude.” She beckoned for him to come closer. He stayed where he was. No way in hell was she going to get any closer to someone who could kick her ass, so she said, “Look, not only are you going to die, you’re…going to agree about O’Neill,” she said, hoping that would get the point across without airing his dirty laundry to everyone else.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, followed by anger. “You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, come on, dude. You are busting my beans, I hope you know. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re making me do something drastic.” She pulled out her remote activator and programmed a portal, then drew a stapled stack of paper from her messenger bag and tossed it through. “Come on, then, stay with the class, don’t make me put you on a baby leash.” She glanced backwards. “The rest of you, stay here.”
“Or what?” That was Koster.
“Or I will personally come after each and every one of you with a painstik until your eyes explode. Stay. Here.” Kitty looked at Trevelyan. “Age before beauty.”
He frowned, but stepped through the portal. As Kitty followed, she could hear Sean say, “Quite violent, isn’t she?”
“Get down,” Kitty said, and elbowed Trevelyan. She could hear him sigh in annoyance as he crouched behind the rock.
“So are you taking me back, then?”
“Something like that. This is a simulation of what happens if I don’t come and get you.”
They watched as the simulated Jaffa shot the simulated Alec. The simulated Carter ran over, and they could hear what the simulated Alec said.
Kitty glanced at the real one next to her. There was so much anger and pain in his eyes that she wouldn’t be surprised if he spontaneously combusted.
“I’ve seen enough,” he snapped, and Kitty wordlessly programmed the portal to take them back.
“What was that all about?” Boromir said when they returned.
“Shut up,” Alec said. “I’m staying.”
Kitty’s shoulders relaxed. “Desperate times. Okay. Come on, gang. One more stop.”
“The hell do you mean, ‘one more stop’?” Spence said, sounding incredulous.
She sighed. “Time for us all to get evaluated.”
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – FicPsych
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1575
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, everyone gets hauled off to FicPsych to examine their suitability for agent status…including Kitty.
Evaluation #: FP-05487
Subject: Denethorion, B.
Evaluator: Chaudhry, C.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
C: Mr. Denethorion, thank you for your cooperation today.
D.: Not a problem.
C.: As I understand, you were the first to volunteer your services. Is that correct?
D.: Yes, that’s correct.
C.: Was there any particular reason why?
D.: I wasn’t especially keen on the idea of dying, to tell you the truth. [Evaluator’s Note: Subject’s tone was particularly dry.]
C.: Do you consider yourself to be of sound mind?
D.: Sure.
C.: Why do you say ‘sure’ instead of ‘yes’ or ‘no’?
D.: Because I have seen some serious shit, and I don’t think that anyone who’s gone through what I have is really of sound mind. Especially after being told that they’re supposed to be dead. That’d mess anyone up.
C.: I suppose.
D.: I mean, I’m just supposed to be a hacker. Suddenly there’s all these gang members trying to kill me and my friends? Until a few months ago, the most experience I had with weapons was Nerf guns. You know, stupid battles with my friends. That suddenly makes me qualified to kill people? I get nightmares. Probably more, after this. Shit.
C.: Are you comfortable with killing people?
D.: Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t think anyone is. But if it’s them or me, it better be me, you know what I’m saying?
C.: Like you said, you’re ‘not particularly keen on the idea of dying’.
D.: [Subject laughs.] Yeah. Exactly.
C.: Do you find the method of recruitment coercive?
D.: I don’t know. Like I said, I was going to die. Not a big fan of that. And even if I wasn’t…if we succeeded, I don’t know. Could I have gone back to normal after that? [Subject runs a hand through his hair.] This is…something to do, at least.
C.: I see.
D.: If you say that again, I’m done here. I don’t want to deal with a stereotypical psych.
C.: My apologies. I’m simply not sure what to say.
[There is silence for a moment.]
D.: You know I don’t have health insurance, right?
Evaluation #: FP-05488
Subject: Miller, S.
Evaluator: Ortega, B.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
O.: Mr. Miller. It’s very nice to meet you today.
M.: Sure, yeah, likewise.
O.: Why did you volunteer your services to the PPC?
M.: …I don’t know. I guess I was bored?
O.: …you were bored.
M.: Plus, I heard you guys have free soda. And a cafeteria.
O.: We technically do have a cafeteria, yes.
M.: What do you do around here? Protect some sort of…thing, right?
O.: Probationary Agent Callahan didn’t explain?
M.: No, not really.
O.: [Evaluator sighs.]
Evaluation #: FP-05489
Subject: Miller, P.
Evaluator: Carrick, G.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
C.: Thank you for seeing me today, Mr. Miller.
M.: Hi. Yeah. I’m…still not entirely sure what’s going on?
C.: Certainly. This is the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, an extradimensional organization devoted to ensuring the health and safety of all fictional universes.
M.: What do you mean by ‘fictional’?
C.: This may be hard to hear, Mr. Miller, but you come from a fictional universe. One that is very much real to you, but was created by a denizen of World One.
M.: What’s World One?
C.: The first world that the PPC ever catalogued – the Flowers’ world of origin.
M.: Okay. What are the Flowers?
C.: …this is going to be a long session, isn’t it.
Evaluation #: FP-05490
Subject: Toombs, D.
Evaluator: Finley, H.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
F.: Mr. Toombs. Thank you for seeing me.
T.: Yeah. What’s this about, then?
F.: Checking if you’re mentally fit for duty.
T.: So I really am a recruit involved in this crazy shit.
F.: Unless you’d rather leave, yes.
T.: That kind of seems like a bad idea. The kid said something about a ‘fate worse than death’.
F.: Probationary Agent Callahan may have been overstating.
T.: I don’t know, she certainly seemed to believe it.
F.: Moving on. How comfortable are you with killing?
T.: That kind of sounds like a trick question.
F.: How so?
T.: If I say I’m comfortable with it, you’ll lock me up for being a murderer. If I say I’m not, you’ll kick me out.
F.: Not at all. This is merely for placement.
T.: I’m not sure, then. I think I might be.
F.: Why do you say that?
T.: …I don’t know.
F.: Probationary Agent Callahan says that you came from an extraordinary situation. Tell me, do you recall any of your life before, ah, ‘the Coke incident’?
T.: [Subject frowns.] Now that you mention it…no, I don’t think so.
F.: How does that make you feel?
T.: Like I’m going to punch you in the face if you ask me that again.
F.: Apologies.
T.: It’s…[Subject seems very upset.] I don’t like it. To put it extremely fucking mildly. Do I even exist?
F.: Yes.
T.: How do you know?
Evaluation #: FP-05491
Subject: NLN, S.
Evaluator: Green, L.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
G.: Thank you for seeing me. Are you comfortable?
S.: Uh, I guess so. This entire situation makes me a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.
G.: I understand.
S.: I’m sure you do. [Evaluator’s Note: Subject seemed extremely sarcastic.]
G.: Are you comfortable with killing?
S.: [Subject laughs nervously.] Oh my God, no. Not at all. The sight of blood makes me vomit, to tell you the truth.
G.: All right.
S.: …what are you writing?
G.: It’s nothing bad. That question is for placement. Are you at all good with weapons otherwise?
S.: Now that is my wheelhouse.
Evaluation #: FP-05492
Subject: Koster, P.
Evaluator: Marciano, J.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
M.: Mr. Koster.
K. Can we hurry this up? Psychologists make me anxious.
M.: Psychologists make a lot of people anxious.
K. Are you going to show me some inkblots and tell me that I want to screw my mother?
M.: …no.
K. All right. So what do you want?
M.: I just have a few placement questions so I can evaluate your suitability for employment.
K. Wait, so you’re telling me that the girl with the bells didn’t actually have the authority to offer us jobs?
M.: …not as such, no.
K. I’m going to kill her.
M.: Please don’t.
Evaluation #: FP-05493
Subject: Trevelyan, A.
Evaluator: Moore, P.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
M.: Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Trevelyan.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: This isn’t an interrogation, you can relax.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Please, Mr. Trevelyan. I just have a few questions for you.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: All right. How comfortable are you with killing?
T.: Fuck you. Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: [Evaluator sighs.]
Evaluation #: FP-05494
Subject: Callahan, K.
Evaluator: Andreev, K.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
A.: Probationary Agent Callahan.
C.: Am I gonna get fired?
A.: What? No.
C.: [Subject sighs, presumably in relief.]
A.: This is your onboarding evaluation.
C.: Wh-what? Does this mean I’m going to be a full agent?
A.: Depending on your and your candidates’ suitability for the positions, yes.
C.: …that really does not fill me with confidence.
A.: How comfortable are you with killing?
C.: [Subject shrugs.] I don’t know. I could be? I’ve never been put in a position where I needed to before. I mean, I know how bad Mary Sues are. I guess I could do it to get rid of them.
A.: Why did you volunteer your services to the PPC?
C.: Truth be told, man, I don’t really know anything else. I just kind of showed up here one day. I might as well, right? Give something back?
A.: So you have a strong sense of duty.
C.: I dunno. I mean, I guess you could call it that.
A.: It says here in your file that you’ve been training with weapons – largely melee, though some ranged and gunpowder-propelled as well. Is this part of your inclination to perhaps be comfortable with killing?
C.: I mean…it was something to do.
A.: Why have you been avoiding gunpowder-propelled weapons?
C.: I don’t like guns.
A.: Is there any particular reason for that?
C.: I just don’t. You shouldn’t kill people from too far away. It’s not right. Can’t charge ‘em that way, either, so. Point’s kind of moot. Can we move on?
A.: Certainly. Why did you choose to recruit these seven men?
[Subject is silent.]
A.: Callahan?
C.: Because it’s not right to leave people to die. Not when they could be alive. And it’s not right to leave them in some kind of hellish limbo torture space like that scriptfic. I don’t know if you’re the one interviewing the others, but they’re completely different than they should be. They’re half-lobotomized. If people are so far removed from their canon that they’re basically different people, then why shouldn’t we take them on? [Subject is trying not to cry.] Why shouldn’t we take their help? They can help us, and it’s the right thing to do besides!
[There is silence for a moment.]
A.: Thank you, Probationary Agent Callahan. That will be all.
C.: What?
A.: That is the end of your evaluation. You may go. We will look over these notes and determine your suitability.
C.: …thank you, I guess.
A.: Goodbye, Probationary Agent.
C.: Bye.
Evaluation #: FP-05493
Subject: Trevelyan, A.
Evaluator: Moore, P.
Date, HST: 15/01/2003
[Evaluator’s Note: There has been an uncomfortable silence in the room for thirty minutes.]
M.: …If I may ask, why did you decide to join?
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan, please take this seriously.
T.: Alec Trevelyan. U.S. Air Force Adjunct. 006.
M.: Your previous history would seem to indicate a disdain for if not outright hatred of structures of authority, particularly those where you would be called ‘agent’. Is that correct?
[There is silence for a moment.]
M.: I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. However, this organization is fundamentally different from what you’re familiar with. We don’t carry the baggage you have with MI-6 and the British government as a whole. We are not responsible for that history, Mr. Trevelyan. We are not responsible for what happened to your family. And for what it’s worth, I, for one, am sorry.
[There is silence for a moment.]
T.: Stop.
M.: Pardon?
T.: This isn’t going to work.
M.: I don’t know what you mean.
T.: I don’t know where you got your information, but it’s faulty. I’m a U.S. Air Force adjunct. Nothing more.
M.: I don’t believe that, and neither do you.
T.: You don’t have the first idea about what I believe.
M.: You would be surprised, Mr. Trevelyan.
[There is silence for a moment.]
T.: No.
M.: ‘No’, what?
T.: [There is the sound of a chair scraping across the floor.] ‘No’, I’m done.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan, please sit down.
T.: Wipe my memory, send me back to die. I refuse to put up with this.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan—
T.: Take me to the Callahan girl.
M.: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
T.: Take me to her. Now.
M.: Mr. Trevelyan—!
[There are the sounds of a scuffle followed by a choked cry, presumably coming from Evaluator. There is the sound of the Evaluation Room door opening and closing.
End Recording.]
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – Betrayal
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears and violence
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1277
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, we really start to wonder how Alec and Kitty ever ended up partnered.
(And to forestall any Irishpicking complaints…well, the actual word Sean should have said wouldn’t have been known by the American writer of the scriptfic he came from. So.)
When the door slammed shut to the last Evaluation Room, Kitty turned to grin at its erstwhile occupant. “Alec! Man, they really gave you the ol’ workin’ over, huh?” she said, miming a few jabs at the air.
“Shut up,” he growled, and before she could react, he’d slammed her up against the wall.
“What are you—” she choked.
“Send. Me. Back,” he hissed.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Boromir shouted, wrestling him away from her. “Jesus Christ, didn’t your parents raise you better than to beat up on little kids?”
“Actually,” Alec said, turning towards him with a feral grin, “they didn’t raise me at all.” And he punched Boromir in the face.
“Ohh, I wish I still had that popcorn,” Toombs muttered to nobody in particular.
Boromir roared in pain and tackled Alec into the wall; Alec responded to this by kneeing him in the face. There was a spray of blood, and several things happened at once:
Sean and Paddy jumped in to pull Boromir out of striking range; Spence turned away, leaned over, and put his palms on his thighs, breathing heavily to forestall his nausea; Koster decided that it was his turn to get in on the action, and once Boromir was out of the way, ducked in to punch Alec in the throat; and Toombs came at Alec from the other side, no longer lamenting his lost popcorn.
Alec took the throat punch and lurched along the wall, winded, before catching a fist in the gut from Toombs. He leaned forward and flicked his head up, catching Toombs in the chin; the younger man stumbled backwards, disoriented from the hit. Still coughing, Alec turned towards Koster, the other man’s haymaker whiffing past his ear. That gave him the opportunity to slam a fist into Koster’s gut, and when Koster doubled over, Alec drove an elbow into his kidney, felling him.
Alec straightened up, massaging his throat. “Anyone else?” he snapped, his voice hoarse.
“No, not really,” Spence said, still facing the other way.
“Good,” Alec said, and turned to walk down the hall. “If you won’t send me back, I’ll go find someone who will.”
“You can’t do this!” Kitty shouted after him.
“Watch me.”
“I don’t believe you!” she snarled, stalking slowly down the hall. “You said you would and now you’re going back on your word! You—you traitor!”
He stopped for just a second, and then kept walking. “Why break a perfectly good habit?”
Kitty stopped walking after him, and she started shaking, a scream building in her throat, before she charged at him, an animal noise tearing itself from her. She leapt on his back, still screaming, one arm hooked around his wounded throat, the other hammering into his kidneys.
“I’m not going to let you do this!” she shrieked. “I’m not going to let you kill me!”
He choked and tried to shake her off. No use. The girl had a grip like a terrier.
(“Should we…you know…stop her?” Toombs panted.
Boromir coughed. “Nah.”)
Alec had finally managed to work his fingers under her arm and tear her away. She dropped, but ran at him again, trying to knock him down. It was about as effective as throwing a pebble at a tree. He turned and pushed her into the wall, but she just ran at him once more, her eyes fiery. “You’re so! Self! Centered!” she shouted at him, swinging wildly. “Everything you’ve ever done has been self-centered! Betraying MI-6? Self-centered! Stealing the GoldenEye? Self-centered! Refusing to let Carter go after she didn’t love you anymore? Self! Bloody! Centered! And now you want to go back and give up and die because you can’t stand the idea of working for someone else because you’re so! Self! Centered! I can’t believe I thought this would ever work, I can’t believe I ever started with you! So fine!” she said, stepping back and folding her arms. “Go back and kill yourself, go back and ruin this, go back and get me sentenced to death or whatever’ll happen to me if I fail! Go back and keep being self-centered! After all,” she said, her tone turning nasty, “why break a perfectly good habit, right?”
She turned on her heel and walked back towards the rest of the group, her shoulders squared. It didn’t take Alec’s trained eye to see that she was trying to stop from shaking.
Alec stood there, clenching his fists and trying not to cough. How did she know a damn thing about him, about what he’d been through? How dare she call him self-centered! He’d never been an altruist, but he’d done what he’d done to right a wrong. A betrayal for a betrayal – and honestly, the entirety of the Bank of England for the loss of human life the British had wrought was a petty price. And as for Carter…
…he didn’t want to think about Carter.
“Oi, mate,” Sean said, and Alec’s head snapped around to look at him. “Come on back here. Quit being a dick.”
“And apologize,” said Paddy.
“Yeah, we’ve all got to go back to Medical now, idiot,” Boromir said thickly.
“If I may make a suggestion?” Spence said dryly, leaning against the wall. “Don’t kill yourself.”
“You can only come back if we get free hits,” Koster muttered, and Toombs smacked him on the back of the head.
“Not the time. We’ll get him later. So, what’s it gonna be, jackass? Take the job, or leave and get the class pet killed?”
Kitty still had her back turned, her arms clearly folded, shaking so hard the bells on her headband were jingling. Alec sighed and walked back down the hallway. “I—”
Wham. Kitty had turned and punched him in the face with one fluid motion.
“If you’re going to leave, don’t bother with an explanation,” she hissed.
“…I was going to say that I’m staying,” he said, his voice still hoarse.
“You had better mean it this time,” she said.
“If not, we’ll hold you down while she gets free punches,” Paddy said.
Alec scoffed, then coughed. “Why?”
“You think you’re the only one who left something behind to be here?” Boromir said bluntly. “I liked my life. I liked my friends. Hell, I have a little brother I’m never going to see again, because, like you, I’m a dead man. And at least you’re mostly who you’re ‘supposed’ to be. I’m not. So even if I do see Faramir again, it won’t be him. But you don’t see me turning my back.”
“If I may state the obvious, being alive is generally considered better than being dead,” Koster said.
“And I, personally, am dealing with an existential crisis,” Toombs said. “I could fix that by going back to the place I came from, easy. But I won’t.”
“You really were being a berk, Alec,” Spence said, then paused. “Berk.”
“I already said that I’m staying,” Alec said.
“You’d better,” Kitty said again, and hit him in the chest.
“Ow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. It had barely hurt.
She scowled at him, because the sarcasm had been plain. “Let’s just go back to Medical,” she sighed. “And you—” she pointed at Alec, “get to explain this to Doc Fitz. Because all of this?” She waved a hand to indicate the entire group and their injuries. “Is your fault. You berk.” She glanced at Spence. “Did I use that right?”
He nodded.
“Good. Okay. Let’s go. And if you try and make a break for it again, Trevelyan, I swear to all the gods I will find you an ankle monitor.”
Mission Title: The Phoenix Files – The Kübler-Ross Model
Canon: PPC
Rating: T, for swears, because all of these idiots are foulmouthed morons
Agents: Denethorion, B.; Miller, S.; Miller, P.; Koster, P.; NLN, S.; Toombs, D.; Trevelyan, A.; Callahan, K. [Probationary]
Time Period: January 2003
Word Count: 1792
Source Summary: Hey, remember those old Team Phoenix recruitment mission thingamabobs from uhhh 2003? YOU BETTER NOT. BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GONE. THIS IS THE RETCON. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
In this episode, it’s the moment of truth. Pretend like you don’t know what happens. It’s more fun that way.
“Please stop doing this,” the doctor had said, setting Boromir’s nose.
“This is not my fault,” she’d said for the nth time, and pointed at Alec. She’d noticed that Dr. Fitzgerald was starting to look like a tomato every time she showed up with the potential recruits.
“I honestly don’t care who started it, I’ll finish it. Don’t make me ban all of you.”
“Aw, Doc. That’d just be cruel.”
Once everyone had been patched up again, Kitty shooed them all out of Medical. She leaned against the wall. “Phew. Okay.”
“What now?” That was Toombs.
“Well, we’ve all been evaluated, we’ve all had our boo-boos seen to, and we’ve all gotten into an inaugural fistfight, so I guess that’s the initiation,” Kitty said. “Now I guess it’s time to go Upstairs.”
“…hang on, did I just hear that capital letter?” Paddy said.
“Probably,” Kitty said, and shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Boromir said.
“Because you probably should,” Sean drawled.
“Nothing for it, I guess,” Koster said. “What, do we follow you?”
“Eh, sort of,” Kitty said, and wiggled her hand. “I have to not think about where I’m going.”
“…what?” That was the first time Alec had spoken in about an hour. He’d been uncharacteristically silent about the entire situation. Kitty rather thought he’d have a lot more to say on the subject of seeing the PPC’s equivalent of M, but he’d been quiet ever since they’d had their argument.
She glanced back at him. “That’s how this place works. There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going, that kind of thing.”
“That’s insane,” he scoffed.
Kitty shrugged. “Welcome to the PPC. Like I said, you get used to it. Follow follow.” She took off at a light jog, her headband jingling as she sang to herself. “There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going, there’s no knowing where we’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing, is it raining, is it snowing, is a hurricane a-blowing…”
“I have no idea what she’s doing,” she heard Boromir said flatly, before she heard footsteps behind her.
“Meh,” Koster said, and soon there were more footsteps. After a few minutes, she arrived at a bank of elevators and tapped her feet, continuing to hum.
“We got everyone?” she asked, scanning the crowd. As expected, Alec headed up the rear, looking extremely uncomfortable. “Cool.” She slammed the ‘up’ button on the elevator with her palm, and one of the elevators beeped, the door opening. “Nice. Everybody in!”
Thankfully, the elevator seemed to expand as all eight people went into it, so they weren’t packed in like sardines. “Thank the Maker for smart surfaces,” Kitty said, and slammed the top button.
As in all full elevators, there was awkward shuffling and awkward music. A MIDI version of ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ played over the speakers.
“Please kill me,” Toombs muttered into his hands.
“No backing out now,” Koster said, and slapped him on the back.
“Are you sure?” Spence said under his breath.
At that precise moment, the doors opened, and Kitty skipped out. “Aaand we’re here! Please keep your hands and arms inside the hallway, don’t lick anything you can’t identify, and please, for the love of Geb, be nice to any plant that you see.”
“That last one’s a bit of a stretch,” Spence said.
“They’re our bosses,” Kitty said. “Don’t annoy the Flowers.”
“This is a bridge too far,” Alec said. “I’m not going to take orders from a geranium.”
“The one we’re seeing is a sunflower, and for God’s sake, if you try to run again, I will…do…something,” Kitty said lamely.
“I’m quaking in my boots,” Alec’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Shut up,” Kitty muttered. “Aaaand we’re here.” True enough, as they’d been walking and arguing, they’d arrived at a door labeled ‘Sunflower Official – Head of Department of Mary Sues’.
Everyone stared at it.
“This is a prank, right?” Sean said. “We can’t really be bossed around by plants.”
“It’s true,” Paddy said, and everyone turned to look at him. He had a way of fading into the background. “I asked a lot of questions during my interview. She’s telling the truth. Unless we get shuffled around to a different department, we are going to take orders from a sunflower.” He paused. “He wears a suit.”
“Excuse me?” Toombs sputtered.
“…none of you asked questions?” Paddy asked, a little surprised.
“I was too busy freaking out over my life,” Toombs said. “Or lack thereof.”
“What?” Spence said.
“Oh, God. Nothing.”
Kitty sighed. “Okay, uh, I probably should have explained a lot more—”
“No shit!” Koster said.
“Don’t swear in front of—”
Paddy rolled his eyes. “Sean, for the love of fuck, shut up.”
There was silence following Paddy’s statement. He looked around. “What? I’m sixteen! I can bloody curse the air blue if I like!”
“Okay!” Kitty said brightly, trying to take control of the situation. “Are we ready, or are we gonna keep bickering?”
“…I like bickering,” Spence said. “It means we can put this off.”
Boromir squared his shoulders. “Let’s do this. It’s going to happen anyway, right? Why delay? Let’s just…rip the band-aid off.”
Kitty eyed him. “Man, it’s weird to hear you say that. Okay, uh, executive decision! Here we go!” And before anyone could stop her, she opened the door.
“Oh, shit,” Koster muttered.
Probationary Agent Callahan. I see you’re back.
“Yessir!” Kitty said, snapping the Sunflower Official a salute.
And you’ve brought some friends. Could you please make sure they don’t run away?
Kitty looked behind her and saw Alec bolting out the door. She turned and ran after him. “Aleksei Sonovovich Trevelyan, you get back here this instant!”
“That’s not my middle name!” he shouted back.
“I know!”
With the help of the rest of the crew, Alec was quickly wrangled back into the room, and Kitty slammed the door shut behind them. “Right. Uh. Sorry about that, sir. Where were we?”
The Sunflower Official appeared to look at them uncertainly – at least, if Kitty was any good at reading Flower expressions, which she probably was not. Are you sure that this is the group you want to go with?
Kitty nodded vigorously. “Yessir.”
I’ve seen their FicPsych files. They’re…interesting. Especially Mr. Trevelyan’s.
Everyone turned to look at Alec, who didn’t even bother to react.
“All right,” Kitty said, shaking so much the bells on her headband were jingling. “I mean, that doesn’t surprise me, sir.”
And yours.
“Uh, I’m sorry?”
The Sunflower Official tapped a folder on his desk with a frond. Your temperament. And your rationale for this program. Very interesting.
“Yessir, and?” She was practically vibrating now.
Welcome to the PPC, Agent Callahan.
Kitty nearly collapsed in relief. “And the rest?”
Full agent status as well.
There was the sound of quiet cheering and high-fiving from behind Kitty. “All right. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Neat,” Kitty said, letting out a breath.
I’ve decided to place everyone except Agent Trevelyan– Alec twitched. –in a larger team, to be called Team Phoenix. Agent Trevelyan– Alec twitched again. –will be nominally part of this team as well.
“…nominally?” Kitty said.
You two are to be partnered.
“Oh, what the fuck!” Alec shouted.
Boromir clapped his hand over Alec’s mouth. “Shut. Up,” he hissed.
“Uh, sir, with all due respect, are you really sure that’s a good idea?” Kitty asked, flicking one of the bells on her headband repeatedly.
Judging by your evaluations, you two will balance each other out. Kitty looked sideways at Alec, who looked like he was about to scream if not for the hand over his mouth.
“I think he might murder me in my sleep,” Kitty said, leaning in closer to the Sunflower Official. “Or maybe out of my sleep. I think he might murder me, is what I’m saying.”
I am confident that he won’t murder you, Agent Callahan, the Sunflower Official said, loud enough to carry. Alec growled.
“Are you sure?” Kitty said, a little louder.
Quite sure.
“Because we’ll kill him before he gets the chance,” Sean said stubbornly.
“Yeah. I mean, I won’t, but the sentiment stands.” Spence, of course.
“I could quite easily snap his neck from here,” Boromir said, sounding too cheerful. “I’ve got no experience with it, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”
Alec said something muffled, doubtless full of swearing.
“If he kills me, I’ll haunt the berk,” Kitty muttered.
…where did you learn that word?
“Spence.”
…this may have been a bad idea. The Sunflower Official shuffled some papers on his desk. The Team’s response center is directly across from yours, Agent Callahan. In case of emergency.
“Oh. Neat, sir.” She paused. “…I’m still locking my door, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I can pick locks,” Alec muttered, pulling Boromir’s hand off his mouth.
“See? He’s gonna murder me.”
“We’ll put him on a baby leash,” Toombs said, and smirked.
“I changed my mind,” Alec said. “I’ll kill you first.”
The Sunflower Official put his fronds to his petals. Yes. This was absolutely a bad idea, he muttered. Then, louder: Please leave.
“Yessir.” Kitty turned around. “Shoo.”
Alec glared at her. “You can’t tell me what to—”
“I will wait until you are asleep and duct-tape you to the ceiling, you absolute berk. I’ll have help, too, ‘cause I can’t reach that high.”
“With pleasure,” Boromir said, pushing Alec out the door. “Can we surround him and herd him to the elevator?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Alec said, sounding resigned. “No use running now. We’re all stuck in it.”
“Cheer up,” Kitty said, skipping alongside the newly-formed Team. “This is gonna be fun!”
“Do you know what ‘fun’ is?” Sean asked.
“Uh, this, clearly,” Kitty said, rolling her eyes as they approached the elevator. “Ooh! We’re gonna get proper uniforms! I bet they’ll be in our response centers when we get there.”
Kitty took a deep breath and basked in the feeling of being a proper agent instead of a probationer, ignoring the excited chatter behind her as they walked down the hall to their response centers. She’d done it. She’d done the impossible, done something crazy, and come out on the other side with a title and a flashpatch.
She was probably going to cry when she got back to her own response center, but she was holding it in for now.
After a few moments, they arrived at Kitty’s response center, with a new door across from it, ‘Team Phoenix’ on the agent nameplate. Everyone stopped, looking at it, before Kitty finally smiled, took another deep breath, and pushed the door open.
“Welcome home.”