Mission 2: Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun
Decided it's time to post this... Many thanks to tea_fiend for betaing!
Disclaimer: The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia. Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. Singsong, Joyce, Brenden, and Anjilly are mine. Any candy mentioned belongs to its respective producer. The fic Secrets and Heather Mustang belong to xXHeatherMustangXx-not that I want either, of course.
Joyce ran as fast as she could back to her and Singsong’s response center, worried about what she might find there. Before she’d left, Singsong had been eating up those skittles rather quickly. There was no telling how many more she’d eaten after Joyce had gone.
The ex-Sue tried to rationalize the situation. Singsong had seemed to have plenty of presence of mind during their mission-surely she wouldn’t allow herself to lapse into a mindless state of sugar-induced madness. People just didn’t do that.
And flowers couldn’t talk, and bleach couldn’t be mixed with aspirin to form an edible substance (Joyce winced with the memory of the reaction she’d gotten when she’d pointed out that particular piece of illogicalness to a fellow agent).
Still, no one would really want to eat so much sugar they were no longer able to function as a member of society, right?
Joyce refused to think that maybe Singsong didn’t want to function as a member of society.
When she finally got back to the RC #71734, she found Singsong jumping up and down on the bed.
“Seven little monkeys jumping on the bed! One fell off and bumped his head! Mama called the doctor and the doctor said, ‘No more monkeys jumping on the bed! Six little monkeys jumping on the-”
“Singsong?”
“-bed! One fell off and bumped his-”
“Singsong?”
“-head! Mama called the doctor and the doctor-”
“Singsong!”
“Huh?”
Joyce carefully looked her partner over. Singsong was still jumping up and down, but she appeared to have given Joyce her attention. “You feeling okay?”
“… Yeah?”
Joyce couldn’t tell if that was a question or an answer. “Alright then…”
“Okay. Five little monkeys jumping on the bed! One fell off and bumped his-”
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
All, who’d been napping on the console, leapt up with a frightened screech at the noise and landed neatly in Joyce’s arms, very freaked out. She petted him absentmindedly as she headed to the console. The poor mini was more than a little skittish, she’d noticed-might have something to do with watching Ed have sex with a Sue. Yeah, that was probably it.
Joyce read through the fic summary, wincing. “This one sounds nasty. Roy doesn’t even have a sister.”
“Neither do Ed and Al,” Singsong pointed out. She’d given up on the song, but not on the jumping. Joyce scrolled through the fic for a moment before bristling.
“She randomly gives Al his body back.”
Singsong hopped off the bed and started collecting her weapons. “Guess we should kill her, then.”
Joyce put All down on her bed. FullMetal was already there, snoring away as heavily as his namesake.
“Is that pistol still the only weapon you have?” Singsong asked, picking through the weapons cabinet.
“Yeah. But I can always transmute a knife or something if I need it.”
“Oh, knife. Right.” Joyce noticed that Singsong still had the rose-covered dagger she’d transmuted in the last mission.
“Ready to go?” Joyce asked, looking through their still-packed knapsack. The CAD and remote activator were in there, as well as the bleeprin and notebook and pencil. Singsong took the knapsack from her partner’s hands, looked through it herself, and then proceeded to fill it with all sorts of candy from her private stash. Joyce watched worriedly.
“Is that much sugar really necessary?”
“Yes. Okay, let’s go.” Singsong pressed the appropriate buttons on the console and hopped through the portal. Joyce took a moment to turn back to her bed.
“FullMetal, All, you two behave.” There was an answering mew and a snore, and Joyce left.
She arrived in the fic in the middle of the author’s note, during which the Suethor rambled on about a Harry Potter/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover with input from Ed and Harry, in script format.
“I hate it when people do this sort of thing,” Singsong said. “Usually it just comes out really stupidly.”
“I can see that,” Joyce nodded, fishing the paper and pencil from the knapsack as the actual fic started. Chances were they’d need it soon.
Riza open the car door, "How was school ma'am," She asked.
“Why is Riza calling this girl ‘ma’am’?” Joyce asked. “Does it say that she’s a higher rank anywhere?”
“Nope,” Singsong answered, watching the Sue get out of the car. It appeared she was just getting home from boarding school.
"It was fun," a black haired girl wearing a school uniform stepped out of the car, "but I would have hoped to have heard from my brother." She smiled, "Where is he anyway?"
"He's in his office, ma'am, but he's been busy all day. I doubt if that has changed at all in the past few minutes."
"Oh please. I doubt if he'll mind me."
“Well, that’s rude,” Singsong observed.
“And Riza’s still referring to the girl as ‘ma’am’,” Joyce frowned. “She’s Roy’s sister, but that doesn’t make her higher than Riza! She’s just a civilian! Maybe if Riza didn’t know who she was, sure, she could call her ma’am... But she obviously does know who she is, so-” She broke off as they were suddenly yanked to Mustang’s office, where Ed was yelling. Apparently, Mustang had assigned him to babysit the Sue.
"BABYSITTING?!" Ed yelled slamming his fists on Roy’s desk, "YOU WANT ME TO BABYSIT FOR YOU?!"
“But... why does he even have to watch this girl?” Joyce asked.
“Plot contrivance,” Singsong shrugged. “Any excuse to get Ed and the Sue together would work.” She popped some skittles into her mouth. Joyce pretended not to notice, and forced herself to focus on the fic.
"How old is this 'Heather' girl anyway?" Ed asked, "Five?"
"Fourteen, actually," a voice behind him answered, "Roy have been giving out babysitting duty to people again?"
“Ugh, I hate it when they get all uppity,” Singsong sighed through a mouthful of skittles.
"Ah, Heather," Roy answered smiling, "How was school?"
"Well, if you had been writing letters as you promised, you would have known."
“But … but … that makes no sense!” Joyce exclaimed. “She needs to write letters to him to let him know how she’s doing! How can he possibly know how she is if he’s the one writing the lett-ACK!!” Joyce got into a fight with a logic loophole that was trying to strangle her, and dropped the charge list in the process. Singsong picked it up.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Ed interrupted, smirking.
“You and me both,” Singsong nodded, writing Causing Ed to act sarcastically for no reason at all. “I’m getting the feeling that this was meant to be friendly sibling banter, but it just fails miserably.” Joyce didn’t answer, as the logic loophole had the upper hand at the moment. Singsong added Poor wording to the charge list as Ed went on a height rant.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT EVEN AN ANT IS TALLER!?" Ed yelled.
“Mediocre grammar skills, too,” Singsong sighed as Ed announced "I out of here!”. “Really, this is simple stuff. Simple grammar and spelling mistakes. The most basic of spell checks and rereads could fix them.”
Joyce was gagging.
“I know, poor grammar makes me sick, too.”
So this is what Anj meant by cluelessness, Joyce thought bleakly as her vision became peppered by black spots. She began wondering where PPC agents went when they died in fics. Was there a special circle of hell set aside for ex-Sues?
“And now they’re engaging in cryptic remarks,” Singsong shook her head. “Really. It’s just stupid. Get ready for a scene change.”
The sudden change got rid of the logic loophole, and Joyce gasped with relief as the air rushed back into her lungs. Singsong looked at her cryptically as she munched on a Butterfinger.
“You know, that wasn’t all that bad of a spatial rift…”
Joyce glared at her, panting, and Singsong sensed that she needed to make amends for something. She held out the candybar. “Butterfinger?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Joyce huffed, still inhaling deeply. She looked around. “Uh…where are we?” There was absolutely no description for the place they were in.
“The Suethor doesn’t say,” Singsong shrugged. “So we’re in Generic Somewhere, I guess.”
Indeed, the entire five-sentence scene consisted of dialogue. No description whatsoever. And the characters randomly popped out of plotholes as they spoke.
“Yeesh,” Joyce scowled. “And why is Al lamenting that Roy has a little sister? Al wouldn’t lament. In fact, he’d probably be happy for Roy and try to get to know the girl. Ed would be the one lamenting her existence.” Pause. “Though, since she’s a Sue, I suppose that lamenting her existence is perfectly fine on both their parts…” She pulled the CAD out of the knapsack and pointed it at Alphonse.
[Alphonse Elric. Human male. Canon. Out of character 46.88%]
“Yep,” Joyce sighed. “It’s not so much that he’s out of character than that he doesn’t have any, and what he does have is out of character.” Singsong didn’t answer, as she was busy picking Butterfinger residue out of her teeth. Joyce took the opportunity to take back the charge list.
Another scene change dragged them to the rooftop of a nearby building, where Lust and Envy were sitting.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Envy said gagging, "So she's 'the one'?"
“‘The one’?” Joyce repeated. “‘The one’ what?”
“Ring?” Singsong suggested. Joyce looked at her skeptically.
“I have no idea what jewelry has to do with this,” she said, chalking Singsong’s odd statement up to the sugar. Her partner, however, looked indignant.
“You’ve never read The Lord of the Rings?”
“Can’t say I have,” Joyce said, watching Envy and Lust’s conversation.
"From what the master said, she is," Lust answered smirking.
"'The one who will change destiny with a secret' I wonder how her 'secret' will help us?"
"I guess we'll just have to find out."
“I hate cryptic conversations,” Joyce remarked, as the fic degenerated into another scripted author’s note between Ed and the Suethor. “Especially when it sounds like the Suethor herself doesn’t know what she’s getting at.”
“You’ve never read Lord of the Rings,” Singsong stated.
“Yeah, what of it?”
“How can you not have read Lord of the Rings? Didn’t they cover that in basic training?”
“Basic training is about staying alive in an organization of manic weapons-obsessed Sue-icidal crazy people. And what to do on missions.”
“We aren’t all that crazy,” Singsong grumbled, popping three Reese’s into her mouth. Joyce cocked an eyebrow that obviously said “I beg to differ” before turning to watch the opening of chapter two.
Now it wasn’t ordinary for Al, being a suit of armor at the time, to fall asleep, let alone dream. But that’s what happened that night.
“WHAT?!?” Joyce shrieked. “HOW THE HELL-HE’S A FREAKING SUIT OF ARMOR, HE CAN’T SLEEP, THAT’S THE POINT, YOU-” Joyce was interrupted by a rather large Snickers bar that was shoved into her mouth.
“Be quiet,” Singsong said. “I don’t want to waste any more sugar on you than necessary.”
Joyce scowled, but chewed the chocolate all the same as she added to the charge list. Some voice in the nondescript dreamscape asked Al what his heart’s desire was, and introduced itself to be ‘The inner mind of the Wish Granter’.
“Well, if that isn’t nutty, I don’t know what is,” Singsong said. Joyce swallowed her Snickers bar.
“I think the technical term for this is An Extremely Random Deus Ex Machina.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Al thought for a moment. After he made up his mind, he looked up. “I don’t really think you can grant my wish.”
“Charge for making Al think a moment over what his heart's greatest desire would be,” Joyce scowled. “Honestly, it would either be for his body back, or for Ed’s limbs back. But seeing as he’s a very sensible boy, he’d probably go for his body.” She paused. “Though he is generous to a fault...”
“I can grant anything.” The voice answered matter-of-factly.
That caused Al to ponder the voice’s question even more. “Even to regain a human body?”
It took awhile for the voice to answer. “It’s been awhile since someone’s asked that,” It said finally, “but yes, it is possible.”
“Then,” Al said, “I wish my brother and I had our bodies back.”
“Very well then,” The voice said. Then, everything went black.
“Oh, okay,” said Joyce. “So he asked for both their bodies back to normal. Still a charge for him taking a moment, though.”
Chapter three began with Al waking up.
Al woke up with a start. He quickly looked over to where Ed was still sleeping. His arm was still automail. It was just a dream after all.
He started to get up, but stopped suddenly. He felt a sensation in the hand he was using to push himself off the floor. He looked down, half expecting to see metal, and saw that it was a real and. It wasn’t a dream after all!
“...There are so many things wrong with this,” Joyce groaned, fishing through the knapsack for bleeprin.
“Look out for the plotholes,” Singsong warned.
“I’m going to forgo the obvious rant of 'How The Hell Did That Happen?' and instead start with 'Where The Hell Is Al’s Armor?',” Joyce announced, downing bleeprin. “Also, if Al asked for both his and Ed’s bodies to get back to normal, why does Ed still have automail? And let’s not forget the repercussions of Al suddenly regaining his body. He’d probably go into shock from the assault on his senses. He’d be supersensitive to everything. He wouldn’t think everything was a dream when he woke up. He’d feel the air currents moving against his skin, and feel the floor under him, and taste his own saliva, and smell everything...”
“We need to tell Roy! But first,” Ed looked at Al, “we need to get you some clothes”
“Well,” Joyce sighed bleakly, turning away to preserve Al’s modesty, “at least they got that part right.”
Singsong handed Joyce another Snickers bar. “Here. Take it and shut up.”
They made it through two author’s notes apologizing for the shortness of the chapters.
“Better for us,” Singsong shrugged as chapter five began with Ed and Al in Roy’s office. “Hopefully it’ll all be over soon...”
"What happened," Al asked.
“But he didn’t ask,” Singsong sighed. “He said. There’s no question mark.”
"I should have realized it," Roy said, sulking in the chair, "but she hadn't shown any signs. How cold this possibly happen overnight?"
"Colonel," Ed asked, "what's wrong?"
"It's heather," he answered, "last night, she got a really high fever."
“What a coincidence,” Joyce said dryly.
“Though how a plant can have a fever is beyond me,” said Singsong.
"The docters have no idea whats wrong with her. She gets these 'little' fevers every once in awhile."
"So that's why you were looking for someone to watch her," Ed said, "so that if something happened, someone would be there to tale her to the hospital. I feel like a peice of crap now."
Joyce nearly tore her hair out. “Alright, the logic is deteriorating here. I understand that you want someone to watch the sick girl, but wouldn’t it be better if that someone was a nurse who was trained in healing people rather than a soldier who’s trained to kill them? And why wouldn’t Roy tell Ed exactly what his mission entails? I mean, that’s got to go against all sorts of protocol, unless you’re Special Ops…” On pure animal-or maybe Suvian-instinct, Joyce stepped to the side, just before a logic loophole could snare her again. “Oh, no you don’t.”
"It's ok Edward," Riza said in Roy's place, "You had no idea. To anyone, she'd look like a healthy teenage girl."
“Did you see that?” Singsong asked. “Roy disappeared, and Riza appeared in his place.”
Joyce blinked. “But then … Where’s Roy?”
“Looks like he fell through a plothole. Same with Riza, apparently,” Singsong said, as the Elrics suddenly had what seemed to be a private conversation.
Ed said, "say, how did you get your body back?"
"Huh?" Al asked, "oh. Someone known as the 'Wish Granter' got it for me."
"'The Wish Granter'" Ed wondered, "I wonder if Roy knows anything about this."
"Dammit!" Envy said. "The master isn't going to be pleased with this."
“People pop in and out of plotholes a lot in this fic,” Singsong observed as chapter four ended.
“Oh, look, she wants to be a senator when she grows up,” Joyce sneered. “Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but at this point in time the Amestrian Parliament had next to nothing in terms of power. The Military rules everything, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Bradley’s a Homunculus, that probably wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.”
“She wants to be a senator?” Singsong repeated. “Put ‘imitating Princess Leia’ on the charge list.”
Joyce blinked. “Who’s Princess Leia?”
“What? You’ve never watched Star Wars, either?”
“Star Wars,” Joyce repeated. “I’ve heard that somewhere. Star Wars...”
“It’s Brenden’s home continuum,” Singsong added with distaste. She couldn’t stand Brenden Sanderson. She wished a pox on him. If she’d known that, at that moment, he was incapacitated in Medical, with congealed Sue blood all over his body, she’d have been positively delighted.
“Oh! Yes, that’s right!” Joyce exclaimed. “So this princess girl is from there?”
“Yes. She is. Just write down the charge.”
Joyce hurried and did so. Her partner sounded snappy, and there was a sour look on her face. Joyce didn’t realize it was because Singsong had been reminded of Brenden Sanderson’s existence.
Ed and Roy, meanwhile, were talking about the Wish Granter. And bunnies.
"Gave him his body back?" Roy asked, "That reminds me of a riddle. Say you got a bunny you always wanted-"
"I don't even like bunnies!" Ed interrupted.
"It's for the sake of this riddle! Now as I was saying, on you're way home, you spot a hawk with a broken wing. The only thing around that the hawk can eat is the bunny you're holding. Without anything to eat, the hawk would surely die. what do you do?"
“That’s just stupid,” Joyce grumbled.
“Yeah,” said Singsong, thinking of Brenden. “Stupid. And obnoxious. And idiotic.”
“Is this even a real riddle, or is the Suethor just making things up?” Joyce wondered. “I get the feeling that she’s just writing things down as they come and not really sure of where it’s going. Which reminds me-what the heck does this riddle have to do with Al’s body?!?”
They suddenly heard a scream coming from the courtyard. Quickly, they ran down to see what happened.
--
"Let her go Envy!" Al yelled. "She has nothing to do with us!"
"On the contrary, little Elric," Envy said, still fighting to keep a hold on Heather, "She has everything to do with you."
Heather looked at Al with sorrowful eyes. I'm sorry, She thought, I should have told you.
Envy noticed the look and smiled maliciously. "Or has she not told you?" He asked just as Ed and Roy got outside, "She is the Wish Granter, the bride of the gate!"
“...Right,” said Joyce. “I have no idea how that works out. If the gate was gonna have a bride, it’d be...well, let’s see... Truth and...well, not Justice...not Lies...more like Equality. Maybe. Since there’s the whole Equivalent Exchange deal, and the Gate doesn’t really care who you are... It’s better than ‘the Wish Granter’, at any rate.” She giggled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the...yeesh, how would the Gate kiss her?”
“Hopefully the same way a Dementor would,” Singsong said. “Actually, it probably would suck her soul out... And her body...”
“A dementwhat?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
"You knew this," Ed finally broke the silence turning around to face Roy, "and you lied to me?"
“Wait, how does Ed know whether or not Roy knows?” Joyce asked as Roy had an angsty moment.
Roy could only look helplessly at his little sister. I failed you, Father, he thought, I couldn't keep her safe.
Envy took this moment and managed to get away with his prize.
“One more chapter,” Joyce sighed in relief. “And then we can kill her.”
“How do you waist time?” Singsong wondered as Ed said just that.
“No idea. Oh, great, a sob story. Of course she was an unhealthy baby! We need angst!”
“Weren’t you from an angsty fic?”
“Don’t remind me. Please.”
"Our father took her down to our basement one night. I honestly had no idea what was going on.
"A few hours later, he sai 'Roy! Your sister! It's a miracle!' Sure enough, she was crying just like any other healthy baby.
"But six years later, he began to get very sick. One evening, I was taking care of him when he told me what he had done to keep Heather alive. He had sold her to the gate using his soul. They had made a deal that in six years' time, he would have to die in order for her to live.
"Evidently, after his passing, Heather started to get these 'fever spells'. We both knew the reason, but there was nothing we could do about it.
“Wait,” said Joyce, “he gave up his soul to sell her to the Gate? Normally when you sell something, you get something back. I see him selling his soul to make her healthy, sure. But selling his soul and her...?” She sidestepped another logic loophole, and soon became entangled in a sort of do-si-do with it. “No sense. No sense at all.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s a Sue,” Singsong suggested. “I mean, you’d have to give me an awful lot to take in a Sue, too.” She poured some skittles into her mouth, thus missing the shocked look Joyce was giving her. The ex-Sue stared at her partner for a moment too long, and the loophole caught her arm. “ACK! Singsong!”
“Yeah?” the other asked, watching the fic.
“Can you-oh, never mind,” Joyce scowled, reaching over and yanking Singsong’s knife out of its sheath on her partner’s belt. Then she began cutting at the loophole. “I hate these stupid things...” The loophole quickly let her go in self defense.
"So that's what the riddle was for," Ed said, "You were testing me on how I would react in that type of situation. Wel the truth is, I don't think I could answer that question. I couldn't possibly value one life over another."
“An admirable quality, but still a stupid riddle,” Joyce sighed, keeping an eye on the logic loophole. “It isn’t even a riddle, then, but just a sort of philosophical question. And if you try anything, I’ll tie you into knots. Yeah, you,” she added, glaring at the loophole. Fortunately, the scene change got rid of it.
"You're going to help us become human little girl," Lust said smiling, "whether you like it or not."
"How could you force someone to to do this?" Heather asked.
"Becaus we're not human." Envy answered, "we have no guilt for the things we do."
"If you aren't human, why do you want to become one?"
"I think it's high time I make an entrance," a voice rang out. A middle aged man walked out into the grand hallway they were in. He looked up at Heather and smiled, "My princess," he said, "How you've grown these past eight years."
All Heather could do was look at the man in shock. "Daddy?"
“End of the chapter,” Singsong announced. “Wanna kill her?”
“Do you want to?”
“Nah. You can.” Singsong popped some more Skittles into her mouth, and Joyce wondered how much of the fic her partner had actually understood through the haze of sugar. “But we’ve got to get her father, first. Mr. Mustang, first name unknown, you are hereby sentenced to death for being a characterless bit character in league with a Mary-Sue.” She pulled out her pistol, aimed, and shot him. The Sue shrieked.
“Daddy!”
“Here’s the charge list,” Joyce said, handing it to Singsong.
“Heather Mustang,” Singsong read after she’d swallowed her Skittles, “you are hereby charged with causing Riza to treat you as though you outrank her, causing Ed to act sarcastically for no reason at all, poor wording and grammar skills, engaging in stupid cryptic remarks, creating a number of logic loopholes and trying to kill PPC agents-wait, when did that happen?”
“Just keep reading,” Joyce sighed.
“Right, uh, trying to kill PPC agents, not giving Al enough character, causing Al to sleep, causing Al to dream-”
“He’s a suit of armor! HE CAN’T SLEEP OR DREAM!” Joyce exclaimed.
“-making Al have to think about what his heart’s desire is, randomly giving Al his body back, creating a gazillion plotholes, having stupid author’s notes, imitating Princess Leia, making up a stupid riddle, being the bride of the Gate, and being a Mary-Sue. Your punishment is death. Any last words?”
“What? But you can’t kill me! I’m the Wish Granter! I can grant your heart’s desire!”
“Yeah,” said Joyce, adjusting her grip on the rose-embellished knife. “And my heart’s desire right now is that you die.”
A strangled scream and slit throat later, Heather Mustang lay on the floor, dead and bleeding profusely.
“Sparkles,” Singsong shuddered. “I hate Sue blood.”
Joyce decided not to take offense. “I wonder how Brenden’s doing. He was covered in it last time I saw him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Anj said he exploded a Sue. I guess they're in Medical right now...”
“Medical? Brenden’s in Medical?” Singsong sounded positively ecstatic. “Ha! Serves him right. I hope that one nurse makes his time there a living hell...”
“What the hell is going on?” Envy demanded, looking very confused. And angry. Lust didn’t look any happier.
“And where are we?” she demanded, looking around the random hallway. “And who were those two?” She pointed at the corpses with a finger that quickly elongated and moved to point at the agents. “I suggest you answer.”
“Singsong?” Joyce asked worriedly.
“Um … Oh!” Singsong seemed to remember something, and she pulled a strange little device and a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket. “Okay, Lust, Envy, just look at this blinking little light and everything will be explained...”
Joyce remembered her training in time to close and avert her eyes.
Flash.
“Okay,” Singsong said, taking the sunglasses off, “this never happened. There is no ‘one’ who’s going to change your destiny or anything. Now go back to-uh, I’m assuming we’re in the animeverse-go back to Dante and do something useful. Or something.”
While she was speaking, Joyce had opened a portal and thrown both the Sue and her father through it. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” said Singsong, leaving the dazed Homunculi behind as she and Joyce went through the portal. They came out at Lab Five. “Feeding the chimeras again?”
“Couldn’t think of anything else to do with these,” Joyce answered, throwing the corpses to the ravenous beasts.
“At least we don’t have to stop FullMetal from having a conniption again,” Singsong shrugged. “We’d better neuralyze the other canons. And get Al back in the armor.”
A trip to a plothole and a few flashes of light later, Joyce and Singsong returned to their RC.
“What the heck happened in here?” Singsong demanded. There were several shredded and shattered bottles on the floor that had previously been filled with bleeprin. “Someone raided our supply!” She instantly ran to her candy cupboard, and relaxed when she saw it was still full. Joyce, meanwhile, found the culprit.
“All?” she exclaimed, discovering the mini-chimera picking bleeprin out of the shards of a bottle. “What are you doing?!?” She picked the mini up, much to his dismay. He started meowing desperately.
“Great, he’s addicted to bleeprin,” Singsong sighed. “Fantastic. Is FullMetal?”
Joyce looked to the other chimera, who was watching his would-be brother worriedly. “I don’t think so.” She thought a moment. “Could this have anything to do with when I gave him bleeprin during that one sex scene?”
Singsong shrugged and pulled some more Skittles out of the cupboard. “Probably.”
Joyce huggled All. “My poor traumatized mini,” she sighed.
“You said Sanderson’s in Medical, right?”
“Yeah... What of it?”
Singsong grinned wickedly. “I’m going to go pay him a visit. See you later?”
Joyce hesitated, unsure if letting Singsong loose in the hallways was a good idea. She decided not to worry about it. “Yeah … Sure.”
“Great,” said Singsong, and she left, Skittles in hand. Joyce looked at All.
“Well, you’ve gone and eaten all our bleeprin. Happy?”
Her answer was a not-quite-satisfied mew.
Fic Notes: Stupid. Really, just stupid. And illogical. And dead. Original story here: Secrets
Disclaimer: The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia. Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. Singsong, Joyce, Brenden, and Anjilly are mine. Any candy mentioned belongs to its respective producer. The fic Secrets and Heather Mustang belong to xXHeatherMustangXx-not that I want either, of course.
Joyce ran as fast as she could back to her and Singsong’s response center, worried about what she might find there. Before she’d left, Singsong had been eating up those skittles rather quickly. There was no telling how many more she’d eaten after Joyce had gone.
The ex-Sue tried to rationalize the situation. Singsong had seemed to have plenty of presence of mind during their mission-surely she wouldn’t allow herself to lapse into a mindless state of sugar-induced madness. People just didn’t do that.
And flowers couldn’t talk, and bleach couldn’t be mixed with aspirin to form an edible substance (Joyce winced with the memory of the reaction she’d gotten when she’d pointed out that particular piece of illogicalness to a fellow agent).
Still, no one would really want to eat so much sugar they were no longer able to function as a member of society, right?
Joyce refused to think that maybe Singsong didn’t want to function as a member of society.
When she finally got back to the RC #71734, she found Singsong jumping up and down on the bed.
“Seven little monkeys jumping on the bed! One fell off and bumped his head! Mama called the doctor and the doctor said, ‘No more monkeys jumping on the bed! Six little monkeys jumping on the-”
“Singsong?”
“-bed! One fell off and bumped his-”
“Singsong?”
“-head! Mama called the doctor and the doctor-”
“Singsong!”
“Huh?”
Joyce carefully looked her partner over. Singsong was still jumping up and down, but she appeared to have given Joyce her attention. “You feeling okay?”
“… Yeah?”
Joyce couldn’t tell if that was a question or an answer. “Alright then…”
“Okay. Five little monkeys jumping on the bed! One fell off and bumped his-”
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!]
All, who’d been napping on the console, leapt up with a frightened screech at the noise and landed neatly in Joyce’s arms, very freaked out. She petted him absentmindedly as she headed to the console. The poor mini was more than a little skittish, she’d noticed-might have something to do with watching Ed have sex with a Sue. Yeah, that was probably it.
Joyce read through the fic summary, wincing. “This one sounds nasty. Roy doesn’t even have a sister.”
“Neither do Ed and Al,” Singsong pointed out. She’d given up on the song, but not on the jumping. Joyce scrolled through the fic for a moment before bristling.
“She randomly gives Al his body back.”
Singsong hopped off the bed and started collecting her weapons. “Guess we should kill her, then.”
Joyce put All down on her bed. FullMetal was already there, snoring away as heavily as his namesake.
“Is that pistol still the only weapon you have?” Singsong asked, picking through the weapons cabinet.
“Yeah. But I can always transmute a knife or something if I need it.”
“Oh, knife. Right.” Joyce noticed that Singsong still had the rose-covered dagger she’d transmuted in the last mission.
“Ready to go?” Joyce asked, looking through their still-packed knapsack. The CAD and remote activator were in there, as well as the bleeprin and notebook and pencil. Singsong took the knapsack from her partner’s hands, looked through it herself, and then proceeded to fill it with all sorts of candy from her private stash. Joyce watched worriedly.
“Is that much sugar really necessary?”
“Yes. Okay, let’s go.” Singsong pressed the appropriate buttons on the console and hopped through the portal. Joyce took a moment to turn back to her bed.
“FullMetal, All, you two behave.” There was an answering mew and a snore, and Joyce left.
She arrived in the fic in the middle of the author’s note, during which the Suethor rambled on about a Harry Potter/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover with input from Ed and Harry, in script format.
“I hate it when people do this sort of thing,” Singsong said. “Usually it just comes out really stupidly.”
“I can see that,” Joyce nodded, fishing the paper and pencil from the knapsack as the actual fic started. Chances were they’d need it soon.
Riza open the car door, "How was school ma'am," She asked.
“Why is Riza calling this girl ‘ma’am’?” Joyce asked. “Does it say that she’s a higher rank anywhere?”
“Nope,” Singsong answered, watching the Sue get out of the car. It appeared she was just getting home from boarding school.
"It was fun," a black haired girl wearing a school uniform stepped out of the car, "but I would have hoped to have heard from my brother." She smiled, "Where is he anyway?"
"He's in his office, ma'am, but he's been busy all day. I doubt if that has changed at all in the past few minutes."
"Oh please. I doubt if he'll mind me."
“Well, that’s rude,” Singsong observed.
“And Riza’s still referring to the girl as ‘ma’am’,” Joyce frowned. “She’s Roy’s sister, but that doesn’t make her higher than Riza! She’s just a civilian! Maybe if Riza didn’t know who she was, sure, she could call her ma’am... But she obviously does know who she is, so-” She broke off as they were suddenly yanked to Mustang’s office, where Ed was yelling. Apparently, Mustang had assigned him to babysit the Sue.
"BABYSITTING?!" Ed yelled slamming his fists on Roy’s desk, "YOU WANT ME TO BABYSIT FOR YOU?!"
“But... why does he even have to watch this girl?” Joyce asked.
“Plot contrivance,” Singsong shrugged. “Any excuse to get Ed and the Sue together would work.” She popped some skittles into her mouth. Joyce pretended not to notice, and forced herself to focus on the fic.
"How old is this 'Heather' girl anyway?" Ed asked, "Five?"
"Fourteen, actually," a voice behind him answered, "Roy have been giving out babysitting duty to people again?"
“Ugh, I hate it when they get all uppity,” Singsong sighed through a mouthful of skittles.
"Ah, Heather," Roy answered smiling, "How was school?"
"Well, if you had been writing letters as you promised, you would have known."
“But … but … that makes no sense!” Joyce exclaimed. “She needs to write letters to him to let him know how she’s doing! How can he possibly know how she is if he’s the one writing the lett-ACK!!” Joyce got into a fight with a logic loophole that was trying to strangle her, and dropped the charge list in the process. Singsong picked it up.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Ed interrupted, smirking.
“You and me both,” Singsong nodded, writing Causing Ed to act sarcastically for no reason at all. “I’m getting the feeling that this was meant to be friendly sibling banter, but it just fails miserably.” Joyce didn’t answer, as the logic loophole had the upper hand at the moment. Singsong added Poor wording to the charge list as Ed went on a height rant.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT EVEN AN ANT IS TALLER!?" Ed yelled.
“Mediocre grammar skills, too,” Singsong sighed as Ed announced "I out of here!”. “Really, this is simple stuff. Simple grammar and spelling mistakes. The most basic of spell checks and rereads could fix them.”
Joyce was gagging.
“I know, poor grammar makes me sick, too.”
So this is what Anj meant by cluelessness, Joyce thought bleakly as her vision became peppered by black spots. She began wondering where PPC agents went when they died in fics. Was there a special circle of hell set aside for ex-Sues?
“And now they’re engaging in cryptic remarks,” Singsong shook her head. “Really. It’s just stupid. Get ready for a scene change.”
The sudden change got rid of the logic loophole, and Joyce gasped with relief as the air rushed back into her lungs. Singsong looked at her cryptically as she munched on a Butterfinger.
“You know, that wasn’t all that bad of a spatial rift…”
Joyce glared at her, panting, and Singsong sensed that she needed to make amends for something. She held out the candybar. “Butterfinger?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Joyce huffed, still inhaling deeply. She looked around. “Uh…where are we?” There was absolutely no description for the place they were in.
“The Suethor doesn’t say,” Singsong shrugged. “So we’re in Generic Somewhere, I guess.”
Indeed, the entire five-sentence scene consisted of dialogue. No description whatsoever. And the characters randomly popped out of plotholes as they spoke.
“Yeesh,” Joyce scowled. “And why is Al lamenting that Roy has a little sister? Al wouldn’t lament. In fact, he’d probably be happy for Roy and try to get to know the girl. Ed would be the one lamenting her existence.” Pause. “Though, since she’s a Sue, I suppose that lamenting her existence is perfectly fine on both their parts…” She pulled the CAD out of the knapsack and pointed it at Alphonse.
[Alphonse Elric. Human male. Canon. Out of character 46.88%]
“Yep,” Joyce sighed. “It’s not so much that he’s out of character than that he doesn’t have any, and what he does have is out of character.” Singsong didn’t answer, as she was busy picking Butterfinger residue out of her teeth. Joyce took the opportunity to take back the charge list.
Another scene change dragged them to the rooftop of a nearby building, where Lust and Envy were sitting.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Envy said gagging, "So she's 'the one'?"
“‘The one’?” Joyce repeated. “‘The one’ what?”
“Ring?” Singsong suggested. Joyce looked at her skeptically.
“I have no idea what jewelry has to do with this,” she said, chalking Singsong’s odd statement up to the sugar. Her partner, however, looked indignant.
“You’ve never read The Lord of the Rings?”
“Can’t say I have,” Joyce said, watching Envy and Lust’s conversation.
"From what the master said, she is," Lust answered smirking.
"'The one who will change destiny with a secret' I wonder how her 'secret' will help us?"
"I guess we'll just have to find out."
“I hate cryptic conversations,” Joyce remarked, as the fic degenerated into another scripted author’s note between Ed and the Suethor. “Especially when it sounds like the Suethor herself doesn’t know what she’s getting at.”
“You’ve never read Lord of the Rings,” Singsong stated.
“Yeah, what of it?”
“How can you not have read Lord of the Rings? Didn’t they cover that in basic training?”
“Basic training is about staying alive in an organization of manic weapons-obsessed Sue-icidal crazy people. And what to do on missions.”
“We aren’t all that crazy,” Singsong grumbled, popping three Reese’s into her mouth. Joyce cocked an eyebrow that obviously said “I beg to differ” before turning to watch the opening of chapter two.
Now it wasn’t ordinary for Al, being a suit of armor at the time, to fall asleep, let alone dream. But that’s what happened that night.
“WHAT?!?” Joyce shrieked. “HOW THE HELL-HE’S A FREAKING SUIT OF ARMOR, HE CAN’T SLEEP, THAT’S THE POINT, YOU-” Joyce was interrupted by a rather large Snickers bar that was shoved into her mouth.
“Be quiet,” Singsong said. “I don’t want to waste any more sugar on you than necessary.”
Joyce scowled, but chewed the chocolate all the same as she added to the charge list. Some voice in the nondescript dreamscape asked Al what his heart’s desire was, and introduced itself to be ‘The inner mind of the Wish Granter’.
“Well, if that isn’t nutty, I don’t know what is,” Singsong said. Joyce swallowed her Snickers bar.
“I think the technical term for this is An Extremely Random Deus Ex Machina.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Al thought for a moment. After he made up his mind, he looked up. “I don’t really think you can grant my wish.”
“Charge for making Al think a moment over what his heart's greatest desire would be,” Joyce scowled. “Honestly, it would either be for his body back, or for Ed’s limbs back. But seeing as he’s a very sensible boy, he’d probably go for his body.” She paused. “Though he is generous to a fault...”
“I can grant anything.” The voice answered matter-of-factly.
That caused Al to ponder the voice’s question even more. “Even to regain a human body?”
It took awhile for the voice to answer. “It’s been awhile since someone’s asked that,” It said finally, “but yes, it is possible.”
“Then,” Al said, “I wish my brother and I had our bodies back.”
“Very well then,” The voice said. Then, everything went black.
“Oh, okay,” said Joyce. “So he asked for both their bodies back to normal. Still a charge for him taking a moment, though.”
Chapter three began with Al waking up.
Al woke up with a start. He quickly looked over to where Ed was still sleeping. His arm was still automail. It was just a dream after all.
He started to get up, but stopped suddenly. He felt a sensation in the hand he was using to push himself off the floor. He looked down, half expecting to see metal, and saw that it was a real and. It wasn’t a dream after all!
“...There are so many things wrong with this,” Joyce groaned, fishing through the knapsack for bleeprin.
“Look out for the plotholes,” Singsong warned.
“I’m going to forgo the obvious rant of 'How The Hell Did That Happen?' and instead start with 'Where The Hell Is Al’s Armor?',” Joyce announced, downing bleeprin. “Also, if Al asked for both his and Ed’s bodies to get back to normal, why does Ed still have automail? And let’s not forget the repercussions of Al suddenly regaining his body. He’d probably go into shock from the assault on his senses. He’d be supersensitive to everything. He wouldn’t think everything was a dream when he woke up. He’d feel the air currents moving against his skin, and feel the floor under him, and taste his own saliva, and smell everything...”
“We need to tell Roy! But first,” Ed looked at Al, “we need to get you some clothes”
“Well,” Joyce sighed bleakly, turning away to preserve Al’s modesty, “at least they got that part right.”
Singsong handed Joyce another Snickers bar. “Here. Take it and shut up.”
They made it through two author’s notes apologizing for the shortness of the chapters.
“Better for us,” Singsong shrugged as chapter five began with Ed and Al in Roy’s office. “Hopefully it’ll all be over soon...”
"What happened," Al asked.
“But he didn’t ask,” Singsong sighed. “He said. There’s no question mark.”
"I should have realized it," Roy said, sulking in the chair, "but she hadn't shown any signs. How cold this possibly happen overnight?"
"Colonel," Ed asked, "what's wrong?"
"It's heather," he answered, "last night, she got a really high fever."
“What a coincidence,” Joyce said dryly.
“Though how a plant can have a fever is beyond me,” said Singsong.
"The docters have no idea whats wrong with her. She gets these 'little' fevers every once in awhile."
"So that's why you were looking for someone to watch her," Ed said, "so that if something happened, someone would be there to tale her to the hospital. I feel like a peice of crap now."
Joyce nearly tore her hair out. “Alright, the logic is deteriorating here. I understand that you want someone to watch the sick girl, but wouldn’t it be better if that someone was a nurse who was trained in healing people rather than a soldier who’s trained to kill them? And why wouldn’t Roy tell Ed exactly what his mission entails? I mean, that’s got to go against all sorts of protocol, unless you’re Special Ops…” On pure animal-or maybe Suvian-instinct, Joyce stepped to the side, just before a logic loophole could snare her again. “Oh, no you don’t.”
"It's ok Edward," Riza said in Roy's place, "You had no idea. To anyone, she'd look like a healthy teenage girl."
“Did you see that?” Singsong asked. “Roy disappeared, and Riza appeared in his place.”
Joyce blinked. “But then … Where’s Roy?”
“Looks like he fell through a plothole. Same with Riza, apparently,” Singsong said, as the Elrics suddenly had what seemed to be a private conversation.
Ed said, "say, how did you get your body back?"
"Huh?" Al asked, "oh. Someone known as the 'Wish Granter' got it for me."
"'The Wish Granter'" Ed wondered, "I wonder if Roy knows anything about this."
"Dammit!" Envy said. "The master isn't going to be pleased with this."
“People pop in and out of plotholes a lot in this fic,” Singsong observed as chapter four ended.
“Oh, look, she wants to be a senator when she grows up,” Joyce sneered. “Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but at this point in time the Amestrian Parliament had next to nothing in terms of power. The Military rules everything, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Bradley’s a Homunculus, that probably wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.”
“She wants to be a senator?” Singsong repeated. “Put ‘imitating Princess Leia’ on the charge list.”
Joyce blinked. “Who’s Princess Leia?”
“What? You’ve never watched Star Wars, either?”
“Star Wars,” Joyce repeated. “I’ve heard that somewhere. Star Wars...”
“It’s Brenden’s home continuum,” Singsong added with distaste. She couldn’t stand Brenden Sanderson. She wished a pox on him. If she’d known that, at that moment, he was incapacitated in Medical, with congealed Sue blood all over his body, she’d have been positively delighted.
“Oh! Yes, that’s right!” Joyce exclaimed. “So this princess girl is from there?”
“Yes. She is. Just write down the charge.”
Joyce hurried and did so. Her partner sounded snappy, and there was a sour look on her face. Joyce didn’t realize it was because Singsong had been reminded of Brenden Sanderson’s existence.
Ed and Roy, meanwhile, were talking about the Wish Granter. And bunnies.
"Gave him his body back?" Roy asked, "That reminds me of a riddle. Say you got a bunny you always wanted-"
"I don't even like bunnies!" Ed interrupted.
"It's for the sake of this riddle! Now as I was saying, on you're way home, you spot a hawk with a broken wing. The only thing around that the hawk can eat is the bunny you're holding. Without anything to eat, the hawk would surely die. what do you do?"
“That’s just stupid,” Joyce grumbled.
“Yeah,” said Singsong, thinking of Brenden. “Stupid. And obnoxious. And idiotic.”
“Is this even a real riddle, or is the Suethor just making things up?” Joyce wondered. “I get the feeling that she’s just writing things down as they come and not really sure of where it’s going. Which reminds me-what the heck does this riddle have to do with Al’s body?!?”
They suddenly heard a scream coming from the courtyard. Quickly, they ran down to see what happened.
--
"Let her go Envy!" Al yelled. "She has nothing to do with us!"
"On the contrary, little Elric," Envy said, still fighting to keep a hold on Heather, "She has everything to do with you."
Heather looked at Al with sorrowful eyes. I'm sorry, She thought, I should have told you.
Envy noticed the look and smiled maliciously. "Or has she not told you?" He asked just as Ed and Roy got outside, "She is the Wish Granter, the bride of the gate!"
“...Right,” said Joyce. “I have no idea how that works out. If the gate was gonna have a bride, it’d be...well, let’s see... Truth and...well, not Justice...not Lies...more like Equality. Maybe. Since there’s the whole Equivalent Exchange deal, and the Gate doesn’t really care who you are... It’s better than ‘the Wish Granter’, at any rate.” She giggled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the...yeesh, how would the Gate kiss her?”
“Hopefully the same way a Dementor would,” Singsong said. “Actually, it probably would suck her soul out... And her body...”
“A dementwhat?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
"You knew this," Ed finally broke the silence turning around to face Roy, "and you lied to me?"
“Wait, how does Ed know whether or not Roy knows?” Joyce asked as Roy had an angsty moment.
Roy could only look helplessly at his little sister. I failed you, Father, he thought, I couldn't keep her safe.
Envy took this moment and managed to get away with his prize.
“One more chapter,” Joyce sighed in relief. “And then we can kill her.”
“How do you waist time?” Singsong wondered as Ed said just that.
“No idea. Oh, great, a sob story. Of course she was an unhealthy baby! We need angst!”
“Weren’t you from an angsty fic?”
“Don’t remind me. Please.”
"Our father took her down to our basement one night. I honestly had no idea what was going on.
"A few hours later, he sai 'Roy! Your sister! It's a miracle!' Sure enough, she was crying just like any other healthy baby.
"But six years later, he began to get very sick. One evening, I was taking care of him when he told me what he had done to keep Heather alive. He had sold her to the gate using his soul. They had made a deal that in six years' time, he would have to die in order for her to live.
"Evidently, after his passing, Heather started to get these 'fever spells'. We both knew the reason, but there was nothing we could do about it.
“Wait,” said Joyce, “he gave up his soul to sell her to the Gate? Normally when you sell something, you get something back. I see him selling his soul to make her healthy, sure. But selling his soul and her...?” She sidestepped another logic loophole, and soon became entangled in a sort of do-si-do with it. “No sense. No sense at all.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s a Sue,” Singsong suggested. “I mean, you’d have to give me an awful lot to take in a Sue, too.” She poured some skittles into her mouth, thus missing the shocked look Joyce was giving her. The ex-Sue stared at her partner for a moment too long, and the loophole caught her arm. “ACK! Singsong!”
“Yeah?” the other asked, watching the fic.
“Can you-oh, never mind,” Joyce scowled, reaching over and yanking Singsong’s knife out of its sheath on her partner’s belt. Then she began cutting at the loophole. “I hate these stupid things...” The loophole quickly let her go in self defense.
"So that's what the riddle was for," Ed said, "You were testing me on how I would react in that type of situation. Wel the truth is, I don't think I could answer that question. I couldn't possibly value one life over another."
“An admirable quality, but still a stupid riddle,” Joyce sighed, keeping an eye on the logic loophole. “It isn’t even a riddle, then, but just a sort of philosophical question. And if you try anything, I’ll tie you into knots. Yeah, you,” she added, glaring at the loophole. Fortunately, the scene change got rid of it.
"You're going to help us become human little girl," Lust said smiling, "whether you like it or not."
"How could you force someone to to do this?" Heather asked.
"Becaus we're not human." Envy answered, "we have no guilt for the things we do."
"If you aren't human, why do you want to become one?"
"I think it's high time I make an entrance," a voice rang out. A middle aged man walked out into the grand hallway they were in. He looked up at Heather and smiled, "My princess," he said, "How you've grown these past eight years."
All Heather could do was look at the man in shock. "Daddy?"
“End of the chapter,” Singsong announced. “Wanna kill her?”
“Do you want to?”
“Nah. You can.” Singsong popped some more Skittles into her mouth, and Joyce wondered how much of the fic her partner had actually understood through the haze of sugar. “But we’ve got to get her father, first. Mr. Mustang, first name unknown, you are hereby sentenced to death for being a characterless bit character in league with a Mary-Sue.” She pulled out her pistol, aimed, and shot him. The Sue shrieked.
“Daddy!”
“Here’s the charge list,” Joyce said, handing it to Singsong.
“Heather Mustang,” Singsong read after she’d swallowed her Skittles, “you are hereby charged with causing Riza to treat you as though you outrank her, causing Ed to act sarcastically for no reason at all, poor wording and grammar skills, engaging in stupid cryptic remarks, creating a number of logic loopholes and trying to kill PPC agents-wait, when did that happen?”
“Just keep reading,” Joyce sighed.
“Right, uh, trying to kill PPC agents, not giving Al enough character, causing Al to sleep, causing Al to dream-”
“He’s a suit of armor! HE CAN’T SLEEP OR DREAM!” Joyce exclaimed.
“-making Al have to think about what his heart’s desire is, randomly giving Al his body back, creating a gazillion plotholes, having stupid author’s notes, imitating Princess Leia, making up a stupid riddle, being the bride of the Gate, and being a Mary-Sue. Your punishment is death. Any last words?”
“What? But you can’t kill me! I’m the Wish Granter! I can grant your heart’s desire!”
“Yeah,” said Joyce, adjusting her grip on the rose-embellished knife. “And my heart’s desire right now is that you die.”
A strangled scream and slit throat later, Heather Mustang lay on the floor, dead and bleeding profusely.
“Sparkles,” Singsong shuddered. “I hate Sue blood.”
Joyce decided not to take offense. “I wonder how Brenden’s doing. He was covered in it last time I saw him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Anj said he exploded a Sue. I guess they're in Medical right now...”
“Medical? Brenden’s in Medical?” Singsong sounded positively ecstatic. “Ha! Serves him right. I hope that one nurse makes his time there a living hell...”
“What the hell is going on?” Envy demanded, looking very confused. And angry. Lust didn’t look any happier.
“And where are we?” she demanded, looking around the random hallway. “And who were those two?” She pointed at the corpses with a finger that quickly elongated and moved to point at the agents. “I suggest you answer.”
“Singsong?” Joyce asked worriedly.
“Um … Oh!” Singsong seemed to remember something, and she pulled a strange little device and a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket. “Okay, Lust, Envy, just look at this blinking little light and everything will be explained...”
Joyce remembered her training in time to close and avert her eyes.
Flash.
“Okay,” Singsong said, taking the sunglasses off, “this never happened. There is no ‘one’ who’s going to change your destiny or anything. Now go back to-uh, I’m assuming we’re in the animeverse-go back to Dante and do something useful. Or something.”
While she was speaking, Joyce had opened a portal and thrown both the Sue and her father through it. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” said Singsong, leaving the dazed Homunculi behind as she and Joyce went through the portal. They came out at Lab Five. “Feeding the chimeras again?”
“Couldn’t think of anything else to do with these,” Joyce answered, throwing the corpses to the ravenous beasts.
“At least we don’t have to stop FullMetal from having a conniption again,” Singsong shrugged. “We’d better neuralyze the other canons. And get Al back in the armor.”
A trip to a plothole and a few flashes of light later, Joyce and Singsong returned to their RC.
“What the heck happened in here?” Singsong demanded. There were several shredded and shattered bottles on the floor that had previously been filled with bleeprin. “Someone raided our supply!” She instantly ran to her candy cupboard, and relaxed when she saw it was still full. Joyce, meanwhile, found the culprit.
“All?” she exclaimed, discovering the mini-chimera picking bleeprin out of the shards of a bottle. “What are you doing?!?” She picked the mini up, much to his dismay. He started meowing desperately.
“Great, he’s addicted to bleeprin,” Singsong sighed. “Fantastic. Is FullMetal?”
Joyce looked to the other chimera, who was watching his would-be brother worriedly. “I don’t think so.” She thought a moment. “Could this have anything to do with when I gave him bleeprin during that one sex scene?”
Singsong shrugged and pulled some more Skittles out of the cupboard. “Probably.”
Joyce huggled All. “My poor traumatized mini,” she sighed.
“You said Sanderson’s in Medical, right?”
“Yeah... What of it?”
Singsong grinned wickedly. “I’m going to go pay him a visit. See you later?”
Joyce hesitated, unsure if letting Singsong loose in the hallways was a good idea. She decided not to worry about it. “Yeah … Sure.”
“Great,” said Singsong, and she left, Skittles in hand. Joyce looked at All.
“Well, you’ve gone and eaten all our bleeprin. Happy?”
Her answer was a not-quite-satisfied mew.
Fic Notes: Stupid. Really, just stupid. And illogical. And dead. Original story here: Secrets