Mission the Third - 'Sorrow'
Mission the Third: 'Sorrow' by author unknown
Firefly/LotR crossover 'fic. In which Rez is even more homicidal than usual, Flip plays conscience, and everything that can go wrong does.
“..bum, ba-dum, BAAAAH!” Flip finished her pattern dance with a triumphant flourish and a loud bar of the Pirates of the Caribbean score. Instead of the traditional glaive, or even another pole arm, the small-statured brunette had been doing her combat exercises with the Whisk. The Whisk, in her opinion, was a force to be reckoned with, and there were several former Sue-spirits that would be inclined to agree with her. “Three feet of kitchen-implemental fury,” she snickered to herself, replacing it in its wall rack next to the katana that Rez had never gotten the chance to use.
In the year that Rez Montrose and Flip Finley had occupied RC #1020, it had acquired the eclectic decoration scheme that was, oxymoronically, somewhat of a PPC standard. Apart from the wall rack bearing weapons from various continua, there were a few pedestals supporting souvenirs from missions (and one correctional tape, given to Rez for no apparent reason other than ‘it was pretty’). More knickknacks ranged along the top of the console, including a glowing, tap-dancing crystal ball which Flip had named Marco. On the wall were posters, photos, doodles, and a framed certificate from NaNoWriMo with a print of eight people in mismatched spacesuits underneath. A battered green sofa, two beanbag chairs, and a small screen were shoved into the corner, relics of the agents’ MST escapades. There were also decorations from a few different holidays up, that they had been too lazy and/or busy to take down.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!!!! punctuation-ed the console. Flip jumped, muttered a bit under her breath, and wandered over to read the screen.
“‘Princess Alanna,’” she read. “Looks like a standard Sue-replacement fic. Yo, Rez, stop killing your hair, we have a mission!”
An adjoining door swung open, letting forth a cloud of ammonia-scented steam and Rez. The taller agent had an old, stained towel on her head. “Yippee skippee,” she said. “Where is this one?”
“Tamora Pierce,” said Flip, grinning. It was one of their favorite canons. “We’ve got Sue!Alanna in an arranged marriage to Jon, with a secondary Sue who is, apparently, Irish. The minds of Suethors, huh?”
“Bizarre,” Rez agreed. She unwrapped the towel, grabbed a brush out of the bathroom to work at her newly-touched-up blue hair, and ambled over. “Lemme see.”
As she scrolled down the screen, scanning the intelligence report, the console sounded off again with a fleedle fleedle fleedle.
“Fleedle?” Flip said. “That’s new. What is it?”
Rez blinked. “Weeeeird. We’ve just been switched over to a new mission, Urgent Priority. And it’s-” she clicked over into the other screen- “FIREFLY! Yes yes yes yes!” Rez bounced around the small room, shedding the occasional drop of water. “I get to go to Firefly! The gang is going to die!”
“Um, Rez,” said Flip, reading the report, “don’t squee yet. It’s a Firefly/LotR crossover, and it’s bad. Listen to this.” She cleared her throat and read her partner the summary. “‘Lotrfirefly crossover, written on LOTS of sugar. i mean, lots. don't flame or concrit plz. River is pulled into middle eart and meets legolas and falls in luv.’”
“Fiiiiiirefl- what?” Rez stopped abruptly, mid-bounce, and gaped. “No concrit? River and Legolas? What in the name of zark?”
“There’s more,” Flip added grimly. “Um. Maybe you better read it yourself. And maybe you better sit down while you do.”
Rez plopped down into the console chair and looked at the screen. There was a long, ominous pause. Then she stood up, walked over to the wall rack, and began packing every weapon she could fit into her field bag. “Kill ‘em all,” she was mumbling. “Bugrit. Bugrit, I told ‘em. Defenestrate. Fardwarks. I told ‘em, I said, I said, morningstars. Millenium hand and shrimp!”
“Rez, Rez, calm down, you’re flanging,” Flip said. She attempted to put a comforting hand on Rez’s shoulder.
“But it’s Wash-bashing!” Rez wailed, spinning around to face her partner. “And after- after- of all the tactless, insensitive- aaaargh! I need to kill something,” she muttered. A few daggers and a little quarrel of poisoned darts got stuffed into the pack, followed by two blaster pistols, a handful of caltraps and what looked like guitar strings.
With some difficulty, Flip extracted the straps from Rez’s hand and set the clanking bag on the floor. “Not the canons,” she reminded her. “Thranduil would kill us, Simon would kill us, and the Flowers would probably kill us several times.”
“‘m not gonna kill any canons,” muttered Rez. “I’m gonna kill those gorram Sues masquerading as canons.”
“Well, yes, if they’re Sues, you can. We’ll see when we get inside the fic.”
Rez sighed. “Yeah. I guess. Just… Wash-bashing.” She made a face and shook her head, hitting herself in the face with strands of blue hair. “Ugh, I need to put this up..”
As she hunted around for a hair tie, there was a knock on the door. Flip opened it.
“Hi,” said the blonde girl who was standing there. She held up the DVD boxed set of Firefly and a copy of Serenity. “I thought you guys might need these.”
“Hey, Porter,” Rez said, from underneath a ponytail in progress. “Coming on in why don’t you? I was going to call you and ask if I could borrow those.”
Porter blinked. “You didn’t-” she began, and then, “Oh.”
“Retroactive communication,” they both said.
“Make sure you message me later, then,” said Porter. “You already did, and if you don’t when you already did things get really messed up. Here.” She handed the canon-containing DVDs over to Rez, who had finished her hair.
“Good thing I read PTerry, or I wouldn’t be following this,” Flip said sotto voce.
“Thanks,” Rez was saying at the same time. “Er... did I, well, am I going to tell you about this thing we have to deal with? Yes, I can see I did,” she added, noting the look on Porter’s face. “Well, look, it’s a short fic. If we’re not back in a few days, grab Pixie and Malcolm and Guil and the rest and go in after us. And alert Upstairs, although they’ll probably already know. I’ll forward- erm, I forwarded you the details.”
“Mm-hm,” Porter agreed. “You’ll be fine. Good luck, though. I gotta run- there’re a few Buffy fics I’m keeping an eye on.”
“Not a good day for Jossverse, is it?” Flip commented.
“No, it’s sure not,” said Porter. “See you guys ‘round.”
Rez sighed. “Well. I suppose I had better forward this thing.” She clicked around on the console screen while Flip went over to the disguise generator.
“What should we be?” she mused. “The very beginning is on Serenity, so we could be, um, bounty hunters… or Operatives… or Reavers, I guess, but ew. But the rest is in Middle-earth. Random elves? Or orcs, but again, ew.”
“Random elves, I think,” said Rez, clicking one last time and leaning back in her chair.
“Works for me,” Flip replied. “Now let’s pack- for real this time.”
Rez emptied the vast array of weapons out of her bag and reloaded it- CAD, remote activator, neuralizer, sunglasses, CD player and headphones, chalk, requisite beacons of canon, notepad, pens, and snackage. She also added a large bottle of Bleeprin and a smaller bottle of PG2B2, and, after some hesitation, selected a pistol crossbow and the poisoned darts. “Arm lightly,” she said, with a slightly disturbing grin.
“And with Disc weaponry,” Flip pointed out. “Taking a leaf out of Teppic’s book?”
Rez pouted. “The poisoned darts could be loads of different canons,” she protested. “And this monstrosity can’t touch canon with a bargepole, anyway. C’mon, let’s get this over with before my righteous anger wears off.”
“You have a point,” said Flip, lifting the Whisk back out of the wall rack. She crossed the room and hit the portal button.
Rez zipped up her pack and slung it over her shoulder. “I have lots of points,” she said, as the agents stepped through into the cargo bay of Serenity.
..Or rather, what they thought was going to be Serenity. The actual story hadn’t started yet, and they found themselves floating in undefined grayness. “Great,” Flip muttered. “I hate getting stuck in total bill.”
“What?” Rez blinked.
“You know. When everything’s gone and nothing’s left. Bill,” explained Flip.
“Ah, right. I had forgotten about bill.”
Summari (I like I’s better, teehee)
The agents both winced as the author’s note assaulted their ears. “Weird,” Rez said. “A Suethor who actually likes other vowels better than Y? That’s a turn up for the books.”
“Oh, Zarquon,” said Flip. “I’m not sitting through this whole note.” She managed to maneuver herself over and dig the CD player and wallet of discs out of the pack. “Jeez, Rez, don’t you have anything normal in here?” she added, flipping through musical soundtracks, a cappella cover albums, and Celtic-African fusion.
“I have Beatles,” Rez said. “That’s as close as you get.”
“Ooh, never mind, Tom Lehrer,” said Flip, pulling the CD in question out of its little pocket. “Sweet action.”
As her partner slipped the sound-blocking headphones over her newly pointed ears and started humming, Rez sighed and got out the notebook. She scribbled down ‘Vowel discrimination’ and reluctantly tuned back in to the shrill voice of the author.
After a comparatively short time, a small creature appeared in the void. It was humanoid, barely, smeared with dirt and dried blood, and looked altogether savage and frightening. Rez looked at the Words, then back at what she was guessing was a mini-Reaver. “Friefly,” she said sadly to herself. “Honestly.” Friefly was shortly joined by another of his ilk- Rez looked again- Riever.
Another short while later, and Rez scribbled something else on the next sheet of paper, tore it off, and handed it to Flip, who stopped humming the Vatican Rag and peered at it. Inasmuch as it was possible for handwriting to look anguished, it did. ‘Oh gods, look @ the Words,’ read Rez’s curly cursive letters. Feeling wary, Flip did.
Wash dies. (cus hes uugli!) Its post serenity, btw. But I brough wash back to life so I culd kill him.
Flip looked over at Rez, who gave her a pained look. “I know,” she mouthed.
Rez mimed stabbing something in front of her with her pen, then went back to her charge list. It already contained several items, and gained a few more when the author’s note declared that she was ‘too lazy to spellcheck, its just for fun neways.”
And then, suddenly, the ship Serenity manifested around them.
Rez immediately over-balanced and fell to the floor. Flip stumbled, but managed to regain her balance. She quickly snatched the headphones off and looked around at the fic.
The opening scene was, as they had guessed before, in the cargo bay. The Words hadn’t specified a location, but canon, attempting to reassert itself, had apparently made an arbitrary decision between the cargo bay and the kitchen. There was River, sitting and brushing the ‘long, dark mane of hair’ that had replaced her usual stringy strands. Scribble, scribble, went Rez’s pen, from her vantage point on the floor.
She jumped up amazingly quickly, however, when two more mini-Reavers appeared. “These guys are weirding me out,” she muttered.
“Really? You’re usually fine with minis,” Flip muttered back.
“Yesbut. They’re Reavers.”
“All right, that’s valid.” Flip looked at the Words again- the new arrivals were ‘Simone’ and ‘Kailee.’ They also, due to an unfortunate spelling error, appeared to be shoving football tackling dummies across the floor. “How do you get ‘tackling’ from ‘talking?’” she wondered out loud. “Rez, charge the spelling.”
“Done and done,” Rez said, writing furiously as further quirks of spelling- River was, apparently, ‘board’- turned the girl into a wooden cutout.
And then Wash came in.
Rez made a very quiet eeping noise. “That was not a squee,” she said, before Flip could say anything.
“Uh-huh,” said Flip, rolling her eyes. “Sure. I believe you.”
“Hi river” Wash said.
“Hullo, wash” River said ‘darkly.’
“Oh, you just had to go and ruin it,” Rez sulked. “Um, ruin it more, that is.”
For the past few lines, Flip had been poking Rez in the back. Now Rez looked up, and saw why. What looked like a large water balloon had slowly been expanding above their heads. “There’s going to be a ‘burst of lite,’” Flip whispered.
“What-” Rez began. Then the balloon burst, showering everyone with something brown and sticky. Rez licked her lips, and made a face. “Diet soda? Yurk.”
Flip looked around. “Shaznatch, they’re gone! Quick, the portal!”
Rez fumbled in her bag for the remote activator, but before she could get it out, the scene shifted. The agents went sprawling as Serenity was replaced by a random patch of forest.
“My hand is going to drop off,” Rez complained, flipping a page in the notebook. “Ew, and we’re all damp and sticky still. Stupid Suethors and their stupid spelling.”
“River is sleeping,” Flip pointed out. “And the Words don’t specify how long she sleeps, just that she wakes up in a forest. We might have time to clean off.”
Rez got up, clutching the remote activator. “I’ll nip back and get clean clothes. Here, keep an eye on this.” She tossed Flip the charge list and opened a portal back to the RC.
Only a second later, the portal opened again and Rez stepped out, soda-free. “I set it to the same point in the story that I left,” she explained. “Your turn.” Flip took the activator and went to clean up herself, also returning significantly cleaner. Rez then dumped out the contents of the bag and set it in a little patch of sunlight to dry.
“Huh,” Flip said, having picked the CAD out of the heap of gear and pointed it at River. “You were right, she has been replaced by a Sue. Look at this.”
Emo!River. Mary Sue. Noncanon replacement, read the display screen. Recommendation: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
“Oh… oh my gods,” Rez eeped. But instead of looking at the CAD, she was staring off into the distance.
“What- oh,” said Flip. “Wow. That’s just… wrong.”
In the distance- “How can you even see into the distance in a forest?” Rez groaned- stood an elaborate palace. The Words described it as ‘made of a metal that was stronger then steal, and lighter then air.’ It did not make for fun visual effects.
“This is supposed to be Mirkwood, right?” Rez demanded. “There are no frokking palaces in Mirkwood. And this forest is wrong, anyway, it’s… light. And you can see through it.”
“Aberrational geography,” Flip said out loud as she wrote. “Palaces in Mirkwood. And optically damaging building materials.”
A slight rustling noise made them look back to the immediate foreground. The River-Sue had woken up. There was another noise, this one a snap (although lack of specification made it sound like finger-snapping rather than twigs) and Legolas emerged from the trees.
Flip choked back a laugh. Through further misspellings, the elf’s pointed ears now appeared to be attempting to throttle him. “Strangly pointed ears,” the shorter agent wheezed. “That is priceless!”
Rez managed a smile. “That is.. strange. Definitely get a picture of that.”
“Will do,” said Flip, sketching in the margin of the charge list. “Theeeere we go. Legolas and his homicidal ears.”
“Who the hell are you?” River said.
“Huh,” said Rez. “It’s an actual sentence with capitalization and everything. Too bad it’s so rampantly out of character.”
“You just wait,” Flip sighed. “You think that’s bad..”
“Legolas Greenleaf, Son of tranduil, prince of mirkwood. Im going to have to take you to my fater.”
Both agents winced. Rez cautiously waved the CAD at Legolas.
Legolas Greenleaf. Gary Stu. Common noncanon replacement, said the screen.
“Figures,” said Rez, watching the mini-Balrog that had just appeared stretch its limbs. “‘Legolas Greenleaf’ has been written into so many stories that he’s become an entirely separate character from Legolas Thranduilion.”
“He sounds like a police officer,” Flip muttered, writing busily. “Not a good one, either.”
“You to,” Legolas added, making the agents cringe again. Then he did something extremely strange. He pointed a finger at something behind River, and a miniature bridge constructed itself out of thin air, flew in that direction and disappeared.
“What- oh. He ponted at something,” Flip said, glancing at the Words. “Yeesh.”
“This is getting surreal,” said Rez.
River turned around again. This made one full revolution, and one would have thought that meant she had seen everything around her, but apparently not.
“Grate!” River moaned, seeing Wash. There was a Whedonesque rapid jump cut, and for a moment everyone was frantically shredding food with large graters.
Rez whimpered. “I want to go home. Or failing that, I want a good stiff drink. Where’s the PG2B2?” PG2B2, or Pan Galactic Gargle Bleeprin Blaster, was something that they had invented after a few months in HQ. It was highly volatile- taken in excessive quantities, it could permanently erase memories; mixed improperly it tended to explode. Flip had nearly blown herself up several times during the development process.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Flip said, trying to keep one eye on the scene in the clearing. Legolas was now tying River’s and Wash’s arms. He was not doing a good job. “It’s mid-mission, and besides I’m not sure the ratios-”
“Later for the ratios,” replied Rez. She triumphantly held up the small vial of viscous, electric blue liquid. “A-ha! Now, water-”
River had walked over to Legolas, and, despite her hands being tied and Legolas being significantly taller than she was, had flipped open the top of his head and was peering at his brain. The words ‘This woman is beautiful, I hope father does not beat her’ scrolled across it in bright urple letters.
“Mischaracterizing Thranduil,” Flip growled, pen scratching away at the charge list. “And having River ‘look at his mind.’ Rez, are you paying attention? We’re going to miss charges here!”
“I’m paying, I’m paying,” Rez grumbled. “Look, she’s secreted thought now. Stop nagging me. Yes! Water bottle!”
Flip made a face. River’s skin had begun to ooze a silvery substance, similar to that which filled a Pensieve. She underlined ‘horrendous spelling and grammar’ and turned to Rez again. “Look out,” she said, “there’s bad-angsty poetry coming up-”
The world is dark
and I feel like Im dying
Rez attempted to cover her ears with one hand and keep rooting through the dumped-out pile of gear with the other. “Measuring spoon!” she wailed. “My kingdom for a measuring spoon!”
so I pull out my blade
It glows in the light of the ship
“Zarquon, this is bad!” Flip had to shout to be heard over the pseudo-emo poetry echoing through the fic.
“I know, I know, don’t you think I know?” Rez shouted back. “I’m just going to have to eyeball it!” She started to unscrew the top of the bottle of water.
The poem was almost over- it was at least a short one.
Droplets of blood-red blood seep through
and I am free again
(A/n: ain’t it deep?!)
The parenthetical author’s note boomed through the world of the story. Flip clapped her hands over her ears.
“There’s no time!” she called. “The action is starting!”
And then, all hell broke loose.
There was a flurry of movement from the trees. “Its a yrch!” Legolas shouted ungrammatically. He shot at the emerging orc, to no avail. It kept advancing, drawing its bow on River.
Rez’s water bottle hit the ground and spilled as she scrambled to her feet. At the same time, Wash made to leap in front of ‘the girl he had secreted always lust four.’
“Don’t interfere, Rez!” Flip yelled.
She didn’t listen. “He did NOT!” Rez screamed, elven features twisted with rage, even as she leapt forward as well. But, distracted by anger, she was a hair slower. Wash staggered back, the orc’s arrow embedded in his stomach. Rez hit the ground and rolled, coming up near the stricken pilot.
Darting forward, Flip dragged her partner out of the way. The orc shot Wash again, this time in the chest.
“You trying to die?” Flip hissed. “Because that is a very good way to do it!”
Legolas notched another arrow and fired at the orc. He had regained his usual ability- the orc collapsed, dead. Then the elf turned to River and they stared into each other’s eyes.
Rez started to go to Wash’s side, but was restrained by Flip, who was still hanging on to her. “What are you doing now?” the shorter agent demanded.
“Someone’s got to exorcise him before anything else happens,” Rez insisted, struggling. “Let me go!” She broke free, snatched up the Firefly boxed set, and rushed over to where Wash lay bleeding heavily.
He was still alive, but barely. His breath was shallow and quick, and his eyes were glazed over- partially with pain, but partially with Suvian influence. “This is going to hurt, I’m afraid,” Rez whispered, kneeling beside him and hefting the DVD set. She settled for hitting Wash around the shoulders as hard as she dared, calling, “Demons, leave this body! The power of Whedon compels thee! Get thee behind me, Sue! The power of Whedon compels thee!”
River and Legolas, Flip was dismayed to note, didn’t even look around. They were ‘oblivious to Washes dying breaths,’ even more so to the elf beating him on the shoulders and shouting hoarsely. River had tears in her eyes.
“Is it because your friend is dying?” Legolas asked her. River shook her head, spouting some nonsense about how she was depressed. “Well they say elves are the most understanding race in the country.”
“They do bloody well not,” Flip muttered, writing furiously, trying to focus. All the canon wrongness was beginning to make her feel ill.
Meanwhile, Rez’s eyes were also beginning to water. “I cast thee out!” she continued, her voice wavering. The exorcism wasn’t working well. She was going to cry, she knew it, and Wash was only getting worse. “The power- of WHEDON- compels thee!”
The numerous blows and the repetitions of his creator’s name finally began to affect Wash. His body twitched a little, and the familiar ghostly figure began to form. The Sue-spirit looked a bit fainter than usual. It became more visible as Rez kept the exorcism going, but very, very slowly.
Rez bit back a scream of frustration. She had had just about enough. “Flip!” she cried. “The Whisk! Now!”
Flip glanced at Rez and Wash, at the Whisk lying on the ground several feet away, at River and Legolas leaning closer to each other, thinking at lightning speed. If she ran the Whisk over to Rez, she was going to be too late. The Sue-spirit still had a tenuous hold on Wash. If her partner was attempting to dispel it before the exorcism was done, things had gone wahooni-shaped. There was nothing for it. It was her turn to borrow from a Discworld character. She darted over, snatched up the Whisk, and threw it.
It didn’t make a ripping noise or leave a trail of sparks behind it as it flew through the air. It simply rocketed towards the Sue-spirit, shredded it into wisps of smoke with barely any deceleration, rebounded off a tree with a metallic clang and a shower of falling leaves, and hit the ground.
Flip stared at her hand in shock. “Did I know I could do that?” she whispered. She felt weak.
A sudden burst of sound snapped her out of it. River was singing. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was singing Evanescence. It was strange.
“Wash. Wash, stay with me.” Rez waved a hand in front of his eyes. Her voice came out as a harsh croak. “Look at me, Wash.”
The dazed man tried to focus on her. “Who- are you?”
“That’s not important,” Rez rasped. “Listen to me. I can help you. I can get your wounds healed-”
“No,” Wash managed. “I think- I’ve already died once. Does that make sense?”
“You have no idea,” said Rez, unaware that tears had started to run down her face, “how much sense it makes. Look at me.”
“I’m looking,” Wash said. His voice was growing more labored by the second. “What-”
“I am so sorry,” Rez whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. The neuralizer flashed.
She covered Wash’s eyes with a shaking hand. “You’re in the cockpit on Serenity,” she said quickly. “You just dodged the Reavers and the Alliance ships. You’re- a leaf on the wind.”
Wash nodded, just once. “Tell Zoe- I love her.”
Rez felt his eyes close. “She knows,” she replied. She knew he couldn’t hear.
Across the clearing, Flip saw her partner stand up. There was blood on her hands- she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Her face was set in a stony mask. Flip knew that look. It meant Rez had had more than she could take and was in shock, and that meant that violence was about to ensue. She raised one eyebrow at the taller agent- although only by a bit, in their elven disguises- and took a deliberate step back.
Rez marched into the clearing and tapped the Sue-River on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss?” she said brightly.
River turned around, looking quite miffed at being interrupted in the middle of her song. “what?” she snapped.
“Hi,” Rez said, still in the same bright tone of voice. The mask had been replaced with a scary smile. “This little gadget I have in my hand, ‘case you didn’t recognize it, is a blowgun. It’s got a poisoned dart in it. Flip, keep an eye on Greenleaf here, and don’t look at his eyes. They change color.”
Flip stepped in front of Legolas, who had started to go for his bow. “I’ll take that,” she murmured, confiscating the offending item.
“Now, I have rather a lot of different poisons on these darts, and they got all shuffled up when we dumped our gear earlier. I think the one I’ve got is fairly safe. Freezes up your body for a while, but it won’t kill you.” Rez’s smile turned up a notch. “‘Course, it could be bloat. You know what bloat does?”
Eyes wide, River shook her head. “No, but-”
“Let’s just say,” Rez said slowly, “that if you get even a little bit of bloat in your system, we’ll all be wearing you. A very thin coat of you.” She cranked the smile all the way up. “Only one way to find out, Miss River.”
“How do you know my-”
Thunk.
Quietly, River toppled over onto the ground.
Rez rolled the Sue onto her back. “Wouldn’t want you to suffocate all easy-like before we charge you, now would we?” she mumbled, more to herself than to the frightened-looking character replacement. “Huh. Pathetic. If you’re going to impersonate River, don’t leave out the arse-kicky bits.”
“Rez, you’re switching speech modes all over the place,” Flip said.
“Yes. And?” Rez narrowed her eyes at her partner.
Flip shrugged. “I’m just saying, is all.” She looked at the impostor Legolas, considered, and socked him in the face.
Rez blinked as the elf joined the girl on the ground. “Really, Flip, was that necessary? And did I know you could do that?”
“Beats the heck out of me,” said Flip. “And you’re one to talk.”
Rez’s face snapped back into its mask again. “You have not seen anything yet. I’ll tie him up. You get the list.”
She searched around for a bit until she found the plothole that the Stu-Legolas had apparently pulled his rope out of. “Can’t believe I forgot the rope,” she muttered to herself. “Bloody humiliating.”
“All right, I got it,” said Flip, returning with the notebook.
“Sock-rockin’. I’ve got the Stu tied up.” Rez kicked Legolas in the ribs. “Wake up! We have some charges for you!”
Legolas stirred and opened his eyes, one of which was starting to show a bruise. “Waht is teh meaning of this?!” he demanded. “I am the prince of-”
“I shall step on you,” Rez interrupted, raising a foot threateningly. As she was nearly six feet most of the time, and taller still as an elf, this was not an idle threat. Her feet were a force to be reckoned with. “Go ahead, Flip.”
“Right. A-hem.” Flip stepped forward, flipping pages in the note book. “Legolas Greenleaf, alias Marty Stu, you are charged with employing horrendous spelling and grammar, having the wrong name, causing aberrational geography, palaces in Mirkwood, and optically challenging building materials, two counts of altering Elvish biology- to wit, color-changing eyes and ‘strangly pointed ears-’ mischaracterizing Thranduil, general abuse of the English and Elvish languages, impersonating a canon character, and being a willing accomplice to Weepy McEmopants over here. Oh, and being a Marty Stu.”
She took a deep breath and turned to River. “Goodness. This is taking a long time. Okay. River Tam, alias Mary Sue, you are charged with all that stuff, plus rampant surrealism, inexplicable plotholes, looking at Legolas’s mind, intra-story author’s notes, inserting bad poetry and stolen song lyrics, being way too emo for anyone’s good, creating no less than five mini-Reavers- Friefly, Riever, Simone, Kailee, and Was- and three mini-Balrogs- Middle Eart, Tranduil, and Legolass- doing an extremely bad job of impersonating a canon character, repeated mischaracterization and abuse of Hoban Washburn, freaking us both out, and being a very blatant Sue. We find you both guilty as charged and sentence you to death. Rez?”
During the reading of the charges, Rez had retrieved her pistol crossbow. Now she aimed it at the Stu-Legolas and shot him in the chest. “One down,” she said.
“That was.. surprisingly merciful,” Flip commented. Upon his death, the Stu had reverted to the default appearance- a generic pretty-boy elf.
“He wasn’t the bad one,” replied Rez, giving her partner a slightly demented grin. “Hand me the remote activator, please.”
“A- are you going to kill me?” the Sue managed, her voice trembling.
“Nope,” Rez beamed. “But trust me, you’re going to wish I had.”
Flip picked up the device, blinking. “Here. What-”
“You’ll see,” Rez said airily. Humming to herself, she punched a set of coordinates and pointed the activator at the River-Sue. “I would stand back, if I were you,” she advised, and hit the button.
The Sue dropped through the portal that opened underneath her. Sounds of screaming drifted up through it, and then Rez closed the portal again.
“Tell me you didn’t just drop her where I think you just dropped her,” Flip said, as the canon snapped back to normal.
“All right, I won’t tell you.” Rez tossed the remote activator back and wound her way through the now-canonically-placed trees toward the gear. She was dusting her hands off in a satisfied manner.
Flip peered at the coordinates that were still on the remote activator screen. “No. You didn’t.”
“I did,” said Rez. “Where’d the Whisk go? Oh, there it is.”
“Rez. You put her on a Reaver ship.” Flip trailed after her partner. “I’m pretty sure that qualifies as torture. Upstairs is not going to be happy.”
Rez sighed, tossing the last of the gear into the bag. “Upstairs can go whistle. Quite frankly? She deserved it.”
Flip considered. “Well… yes. Point taken.”
“Come on, let’s portal out of here.” Rez sighed. “I need a drink.”
The agents were quiet as Flip opened up the portal back into the response center. Flip was still feeling the aftereffects of the sheer canon wrongness, and Rez’s adrenaline rush was rapidly wearing off.
“Oh, um, the body?” Flip paused. “What should we-”
“Meh. Just leave it,” Rez said. She had one foot in the RC already. “Dead elf? The spiders will probably get it.”
“And what about the real River and Legolas? Shouldn’t we find them?”
“Oh, for all the gods’ sakes!” Rez wailed, extracting herself reluctantly. “We’re never going to be done! All right, let’s play find-the-plothole.”
They did, by the simple expedient of waving the CAD around until it beeped. Inside were the two very bewildered and angry canons, both of whom looked even more bewildered and angry at the sight of two suddenly-appearing ellith covered in bloodstains. Rez quickly neuralized them before any damage could be inflicted on the agents.
“Right, Legolas, you’re on patrol. There was an incident with some spiders but you dealt with it. Everything’s fine. Go back to the halls and report.” Legolas nodded and moved purposefully away through the trees.
Flip looked at River, scrambling for a reasonable explanation. “Um, River.. you’ve been on a job with Mal and the crew. Serenity is this way.” She zapped up a portal and escorted River through.
“No one else from the crew was actually involved,” Flip said in an undertone. “So they’re fine. Now we can head back.”
“Thank the deity of your choice. Oh wait.. bugger. Hang on. I… have to tell Zoe something.” Rez ducked through the portal before Flip could stop her.
“Rez, what- ah, screwit.” Flip settled down beside the portal and waited.
A few minutes later, the taller agent returned, attempting to look like she hadn’t been crying. “All done,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
The grey walls and eclectic décor were a welcome sight after first the blatant non-canonicity and then the close-in darkness of Mirkwood as it should be. Rez immediately set about mixing herself a large glass of PG2B2, drained it in two goes and collapsed onto the sofa. Flip, meanwhile, set the Whisk back in the wall rack and stowed the bag in a corner.
A light blinked on the console. “Hey, Rez? We have some messages waiting-”
Rez snored.
Flip shrugged, turned the console screen off, and curled up on one of the beanbag chairs. The impending lecture from Upstairs was, apparently, going to have to wait. In the meantime, she might as well get some sleep.
Firefly/LotR crossover 'fic. In which Rez is even more homicidal than usual, Flip plays conscience, and everything that can go wrong does.
“..bum, ba-dum, BAAAAH!” Flip finished her pattern dance with a triumphant flourish and a loud bar of the Pirates of the Caribbean score. Instead of the traditional glaive, or even another pole arm, the small-statured brunette had been doing her combat exercises with the Whisk. The Whisk, in her opinion, was a force to be reckoned with, and there were several former Sue-spirits that would be inclined to agree with her. “Three feet of kitchen-implemental fury,” she snickered to herself, replacing it in its wall rack next to the katana that Rez had never gotten the chance to use.
In the year that Rez Montrose and Flip Finley had occupied RC #1020, it had acquired the eclectic decoration scheme that was, oxymoronically, somewhat of a PPC standard. Apart from the wall rack bearing weapons from various continua, there were a few pedestals supporting souvenirs from missions (and one correctional tape, given to Rez for no apparent reason other than ‘it was pretty’). More knickknacks ranged along the top of the console, including a glowing, tap-dancing crystal ball which Flip had named Marco. On the wall were posters, photos, doodles, and a framed certificate from NaNoWriMo with a print of eight people in mismatched spacesuits underneath. A battered green sofa, two beanbag chairs, and a small screen were shoved into the corner, relics of the agents’ MST escapades. There were also decorations from a few different holidays up, that they had been too lazy and/or busy to take down.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!!!! punctuation-ed the console. Flip jumped, muttered a bit under her breath, and wandered over to read the screen.
“‘Princess Alanna,’” she read. “Looks like a standard Sue-replacement fic. Yo, Rez, stop killing your hair, we have a mission!”
An adjoining door swung open, letting forth a cloud of ammonia-scented steam and Rez. The taller agent had an old, stained towel on her head. “Yippee skippee,” she said. “Where is this one?”
“Tamora Pierce,” said Flip, grinning. It was one of their favorite canons. “We’ve got Sue!Alanna in an arranged marriage to Jon, with a secondary Sue who is, apparently, Irish. The minds of Suethors, huh?”
“Bizarre,” Rez agreed. She unwrapped the towel, grabbed a brush out of the bathroom to work at her newly-touched-up blue hair, and ambled over. “Lemme see.”
As she scrolled down the screen, scanning the intelligence report, the console sounded off again with a fleedle fleedle fleedle.
“Fleedle?” Flip said. “That’s new. What is it?”
Rez blinked. “Weeeeird. We’ve just been switched over to a new mission, Urgent Priority. And it’s-” she clicked over into the other screen- “FIREFLY! Yes yes yes yes!” Rez bounced around the small room, shedding the occasional drop of water. “I get to go to Firefly! The gang is going to die!”
“Um, Rez,” said Flip, reading the report, “don’t squee yet. It’s a Firefly/LotR crossover, and it’s bad. Listen to this.” She cleared her throat and read her partner the summary. “‘Lotrfirefly crossover, written on LOTS of sugar. i mean, lots. don't flame or concrit plz. River is pulled into middle eart and meets legolas and falls in luv.’”
“Fiiiiiirefl- what?” Rez stopped abruptly, mid-bounce, and gaped. “No concrit? River and Legolas? What in the name of zark?”
“There’s more,” Flip added grimly. “Um. Maybe you better read it yourself. And maybe you better sit down while you do.”
Rez plopped down into the console chair and looked at the screen. There was a long, ominous pause. Then she stood up, walked over to the wall rack, and began packing every weapon she could fit into her field bag. “Kill ‘em all,” she was mumbling. “Bugrit. Bugrit, I told ‘em. Defenestrate. Fardwarks. I told ‘em, I said, I said, morningstars. Millenium hand and shrimp!”
“Rez, Rez, calm down, you’re flanging,” Flip said. She attempted to put a comforting hand on Rez’s shoulder.
“But it’s Wash-bashing!” Rez wailed, spinning around to face her partner. “And after- after- of all the tactless, insensitive- aaaargh! I need to kill something,” she muttered. A few daggers and a little quarrel of poisoned darts got stuffed into the pack, followed by two blaster pistols, a handful of caltraps and what looked like guitar strings.
With some difficulty, Flip extracted the straps from Rez’s hand and set the clanking bag on the floor. “Not the canons,” she reminded her. “Thranduil would kill us, Simon would kill us, and the Flowers would probably kill us several times.”
“‘m not gonna kill any canons,” muttered Rez. “I’m gonna kill those gorram Sues masquerading as canons.”
“Well, yes, if they’re Sues, you can. We’ll see when we get inside the fic.”
Rez sighed. “Yeah. I guess. Just… Wash-bashing.” She made a face and shook her head, hitting herself in the face with strands of blue hair. “Ugh, I need to put this up..”
As she hunted around for a hair tie, there was a knock on the door. Flip opened it.
“Hi,” said the blonde girl who was standing there. She held up the DVD boxed set of Firefly and a copy of Serenity. “I thought you guys might need these.”
“Hey, Porter,” Rez said, from underneath a ponytail in progress. “Coming on in why don’t you? I was going to call you and ask if I could borrow those.”
Porter blinked. “You didn’t-” she began, and then, “Oh.”
“Retroactive communication,” they both said.
“Make sure you message me later, then,” said Porter. “You already did, and if you don’t when you already did things get really messed up. Here.” She handed the canon-containing DVDs over to Rez, who had finished her hair.
“Good thing I read PTerry, or I wouldn’t be following this,” Flip said sotto voce.
“Thanks,” Rez was saying at the same time. “Er... did I, well, am I going to tell you about this thing we have to deal with? Yes, I can see I did,” she added, noting the look on Porter’s face. “Well, look, it’s a short fic. If we’re not back in a few days, grab Pixie and Malcolm and Guil and the rest and go in after us. And alert Upstairs, although they’ll probably already know. I’ll forward- erm, I forwarded you the details.”
“Mm-hm,” Porter agreed. “You’ll be fine. Good luck, though. I gotta run- there’re a few Buffy fics I’m keeping an eye on.”
“Not a good day for Jossverse, is it?” Flip commented.
“No, it’s sure not,” said Porter. “See you guys ‘round.”
Rez sighed. “Well. I suppose I had better forward this thing.” She clicked around on the console screen while Flip went over to the disguise generator.
“What should we be?” she mused. “The very beginning is on Serenity, so we could be, um, bounty hunters… or Operatives… or Reavers, I guess, but ew. But the rest is in Middle-earth. Random elves? Or orcs, but again, ew.”
“Random elves, I think,” said Rez, clicking one last time and leaning back in her chair.
“Works for me,” Flip replied. “Now let’s pack- for real this time.”
Rez emptied the vast array of weapons out of her bag and reloaded it- CAD, remote activator, neuralizer, sunglasses, CD player and headphones, chalk, requisite beacons of canon, notepad, pens, and snackage. She also added a large bottle of Bleeprin and a smaller bottle of PG2B2, and, after some hesitation, selected a pistol crossbow and the poisoned darts. “Arm lightly,” she said, with a slightly disturbing grin.
“And with Disc weaponry,” Flip pointed out. “Taking a leaf out of Teppic’s book?”
Rez pouted. “The poisoned darts could be loads of different canons,” she protested. “And this monstrosity can’t touch canon with a bargepole, anyway. C’mon, let’s get this over with before my righteous anger wears off.”
“You have a point,” said Flip, lifting the Whisk back out of the wall rack. She crossed the room and hit the portal button.
Rez zipped up her pack and slung it over her shoulder. “I have lots of points,” she said, as the agents stepped through into the cargo bay of Serenity.
..Or rather, what they thought was going to be Serenity. The actual story hadn’t started yet, and they found themselves floating in undefined grayness. “Great,” Flip muttered. “I hate getting stuck in total bill.”
“What?” Rez blinked.
“You know. When everything’s gone and nothing’s left. Bill,” explained Flip.
“Ah, right. I had forgotten about bill.”
Summari (I like I’s better, teehee)
The agents both winced as the author’s note assaulted their ears. “Weird,” Rez said. “A Suethor who actually likes other vowels better than Y? That’s a turn up for the books.”
“Oh, Zarquon,” said Flip. “I’m not sitting through this whole note.” She managed to maneuver herself over and dig the CD player and wallet of discs out of the pack. “Jeez, Rez, don’t you have anything normal in here?” she added, flipping through musical soundtracks, a cappella cover albums, and Celtic-African fusion.
“I have Beatles,” Rez said. “That’s as close as you get.”
“Ooh, never mind, Tom Lehrer,” said Flip, pulling the CD in question out of its little pocket. “Sweet action.”
As her partner slipped the sound-blocking headphones over her newly pointed ears and started humming, Rez sighed and got out the notebook. She scribbled down ‘Vowel discrimination’ and reluctantly tuned back in to the shrill voice of the author.
After a comparatively short time, a small creature appeared in the void. It was humanoid, barely, smeared with dirt and dried blood, and looked altogether savage and frightening. Rez looked at the Words, then back at what she was guessing was a mini-Reaver. “Friefly,” she said sadly to herself. “Honestly.” Friefly was shortly joined by another of his ilk- Rez looked again- Riever.
Another short while later, and Rez scribbled something else on the next sheet of paper, tore it off, and handed it to Flip, who stopped humming the Vatican Rag and peered at it. Inasmuch as it was possible for handwriting to look anguished, it did. ‘Oh gods, look @ the Words,’ read Rez’s curly cursive letters. Feeling wary, Flip did.
Wash dies. (cus hes uugli!) Its post serenity, btw. But I brough wash back to life so I culd kill him.
Flip looked over at Rez, who gave her a pained look. “I know,” she mouthed.
Rez mimed stabbing something in front of her with her pen, then went back to her charge list. It already contained several items, and gained a few more when the author’s note declared that she was ‘too lazy to spellcheck, its just for fun neways.”
And then, suddenly, the ship Serenity manifested around them.
Rez immediately over-balanced and fell to the floor. Flip stumbled, but managed to regain her balance. She quickly snatched the headphones off and looked around at the fic.
The opening scene was, as they had guessed before, in the cargo bay. The Words hadn’t specified a location, but canon, attempting to reassert itself, had apparently made an arbitrary decision between the cargo bay and the kitchen. There was River, sitting and brushing the ‘long, dark mane of hair’ that had replaced her usual stringy strands. Scribble, scribble, went Rez’s pen, from her vantage point on the floor.
She jumped up amazingly quickly, however, when two more mini-Reavers appeared. “These guys are weirding me out,” she muttered.
“Really? You’re usually fine with minis,” Flip muttered back.
“Yesbut. They’re Reavers.”
“All right, that’s valid.” Flip looked at the Words again- the new arrivals were ‘Simone’ and ‘Kailee.’ They also, due to an unfortunate spelling error, appeared to be shoving football tackling dummies across the floor. “How do you get ‘tackling’ from ‘talking?’” she wondered out loud. “Rez, charge the spelling.”
“Done and done,” Rez said, writing furiously as further quirks of spelling- River was, apparently, ‘board’- turned the girl into a wooden cutout.
And then Wash came in.
Rez made a very quiet eeping noise. “That was not a squee,” she said, before Flip could say anything.
“Uh-huh,” said Flip, rolling her eyes. “Sure. I believe you.”
“Hi river” Wash said.
“Hullo, wash” River said ‘darkly.’
“Oh, you just had to go and ruin it,” Rez sulked. “Um, ruin it more, that is.”
For the past few lines, Flip had been poking Rez in the back. Now Rez looked up, and saw why. What looked like a large water balloon had slowly been expanding above their heads. “There’s going to be a ‘burst of lite,’” Flip whispered.
“What-” Rez began. Then the balloon burst, showering everyone with something brown and sticky. Rez licked her lips, and made a face. “Diet soda? Yurk.”
Flip looked around. “Shaznatch, they’re gone! Quick, the portal!”
Rez fumbled in her bag for the remote activator, but before she could get it out, the scene shifted. The agents went sprawling as Serenity was replaced by a random patch of forest.
“My hand is going to drop off,” Rez complained, flipping a page in the notebook. “Ew, and we’re all damp and sticky still. Stupid Suethors and their stupid spelling.”
“River is sleeping,” Flip pointed out. “And the Words don’t specify how long she sleeps, just that she wakes up in a forest. We might have time to clean off.”
Rez got up, clutching the remote activator. “I’ll nip back and get clean clothes. Here, keep an eye on this.” She tossed Flip the charge list and opened a portal back to the RC.
Only a second later, the portal opened again and Rez stepped out, soda-free. “I set it to the same point in the story that I left,” she explained. “Your turn.” Flip took the activator and went to clean up herself, also returning significantly cleaner. Rez then dumped out the contents of the bag and set it in a little patch of sunlight to dry.
“Huh,” Flip said, having picked the CAD out of the heap of gear and pointed it at River. “You were right, she has been replaced by a Sue. Look at this.”
Emo!River. Mary Sue. Noncanon replacement, read the display screen. Recommendation: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
“Oh… oh my gods,” Rez eeped. But instead of looking at the CAD, she was staring off into the distance.
“What- oh,” said Flip. “Wow. That’s just… wrong.”
In the distance- “How can you even see into the distance in a forest?” Rez groaned- stood an elaborate palace. The Words described it as ‘made of a metal that was stronger then steal, and lighter then air.’ It did not make for fun visual effects.
“This is supposed to be Mirkwood, right?” Rez demanded. “There are no frokking palaces in Mirkwood. And this forest is wrong, anyway, it’s… light. And you can see through it.”
“Aberrational geography,” Flip said out loud as she wrote. “Palaces in Mirkwood. And optically damaging building materials.”
A slight rustling noise made them look back to the immediate foreground. The River-Sue had woken up. There was another noise, this one a snap (although lack of specification made it sound like finger-snapping rather than twigs) and Legolas emerged from the trees.
Flip choked back a laugh. Through further misspellings, the elf’s pointed ears now appeared to be attempting to throttle him. “Strangly pointed ears,” the shorter agent wheezed. “That is priceless!”
Rez managed a smile. “That is.. strange. Definitely get a picture of that.”
“Will do,” said Flip, sketching in the margin of the charge list. “Theeeere we go. Legolas and his homicidal ears.”
“Who the hell are you?” River said.
“Huh,” said Rez. “It’s an actual sentence with capitalization and everything. Too bad it’s so rampantly out of character.”
“You just wait,” Flip sighed. “You think that’s bad..”
“Legolas Greenleaf, Son of tranduil, prince of mirkwood. Im going to have to take you to my fater.”
Both agents winced. Rez cautiously waved the CAD at Legolas.
Legolas Greenleaf. Gary Stu. Common noncanon replacement, said the screen.
“Figures,” said Rez, watching the mini-Balrog that had just appeared stretch its limbs. “‘Legolas Greenleaf’ has been written into so many stories that he’s become an entirely separate character from Legolas Thranduilion.”
“He sounds like a police officer,” Flip muttered, writing busily. “Not a good one, either.”
“You to,” Legolas added, making the agents cringe again. Then he did something extremely strange. He pointed a finger at something behind River, and a miniature bridge constructed itself out of thin air, flew in that direction and disappeared.
“What- oh. He ponted at something,” Flip said, glancing at the Words. “Yeesh.”
“This is getting surreal,” said Rez.
River turned around again. This made one full revolution, and one would have thought that meant she had seen everything around her, but apparently not.
“Grate!” River moaned, seeing Wash. There was a Whedonesque rapid jump cut, and for a moment everyone was frantically shredding food with large graters.
Rez whimpered. “I want to go home. Or failing that, I want a good stiff drink. Where’s the PG2B2?” PG2B2, or Pan Galactic Gargle Bleeprin Blaster, was something that they had invented after a few months in HQ. It was highly volatile- taken in excessive quantities, it could permanently erase memories; mixed improperly it tended to explode. Flip had nearly blown herself up several times during the development process.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Flip said, trying to keep one eye on the scene in the clearing. Legolas was now tying River’s and Wash’s arms. He was not doing a good job. “It’s mid-mission, and besides I’m not sure the ratios-”
“Later for the ratios,” replied Rez. She triumphantly held up the small vial of viscous, electric blue liquid. “A-ha! Now, water-”
River had walked over to Legolas, and, despite her hands being tied and Legolas being significantly taller than she was, had flipped open the top of his head and was peering at his brain. The words ‘This woman is beautiful, I hope father does not beat her’ scrolled across it in bright urple letters.
“Mischaracterizing Thranduil,” Flip growled, pen scratching away at the charge list. “And having River ‘look at his mind.’ Rez, are you paying attention? We’re going to miss charges here!”
“I’m paying, I’m paying,” Rez grumbled. “Look, she’s secreted thought now. Stop nagging me. Yes! Water bottle!”
Flip made a face. River’s skin had begun to ooze a silvery substance, similar to that which filled a Pensieve. She underlined ‘horrendous spelling and grammar’ and turned to Rez again. “Look out,” she said, “there’s bad-angsty poetry coming up-”
The world is dark
and I feel like Im dying
Rez attempted to cover her ears with one hand and keep rooting through the dumped-out pile of gear with the other. “Measuring spoon!” she wailed. “My kingdom for a measuring spoon!”
so I pull out my blade
It glows in the light of the ship
“Zarquon, this is bad!” Flip had to shout to be heard over the pseudo-emo poetry echoing through the fic.
“I know, I know, don’t you think I know?” Rez shouted back. “I’m just going to have to eyeball it!” She started to unscrew the top of the bottle of water.
The poem was almost over- it was at least a short one.
Droplets of blood-red blood seep through
and I am free again
(A/n: ain’t it deep?!)
The parenthetical author’s note boomed through the world of the story. Flip clapped her hands over her ears.
“There’s no time!” she called. “The action is starting!”
And then, all hell broke loose.
There was a flurry of movement from the trees. “Its a yrch!” Legolas shouted ungrammatically. He shot at the emerging orc, to no avail. It kept advancing, drawing its bow on River.
Rez’s water bottle hit the ground and spilled as she scrambled to her feet. At the same time, Wash made to leap in front of ‘the girl he had secreted always lust four.’
“Don’t interfere, Rez!” Flip yelled.
She didn’t listen. “He did NOT!” Rez screamed, elven features twisted with rage, even as she leapt forward as well. But, distracted by anger, she was a hair slower. Wash staggered back, the orc’s arrow embedded in his stomach. Rez hit the ground and rolled, coming up near the stricken pilot.
Darting forward, Flip dragged her partner out of the way. The orc shot Wash again, this time in the chest.
“You trying to die?” Flip hissed. “Because that is a very good way to do it!”
Legolas notched another arrow and fired at the orc. He had regained his usual ability- the orc collapsed, dead. Then the elf turned to River and they stared into each other’s eyes.
Rez started to go to Wash’s side, but was restrained by Flip, who was still hanging on to her. “What are you doing now?” the shorter agent demanded.
“Someone’s got to exorcise him before anything else happens,” Rez insisted, struggling. “Let me go!” She broke free, snatched up the Firefly boxed set, and rushed over to where Wash lay bleeding heavily.
He was still alive, but barely. His breath was shallow and quick, and his eyes were glazed over- partially with pain, but partially with Suvian influence. “This is going to hurt, I’m afraid,” Rez whispered, kneeling beside him and hefting the DVD set. She settled for hitting Wash around the shoulders as hard as she dared, calling, “Demons, leave this body! The power of Whedon compels thee! Get thee behind me, Sue! The power of Whedon compels thee!”
River and Legolas, Flip was dismayed to note, didn’t even look around. They were ‘oblivious to Washes dying breaths,’ even more so to the elf beating him on the shoulders and shouting hoarsely. River had tears in her eyes.
“Is it because your friend is dying?” Legolas asked her. River shook her head, spouting some nonsense about how she was depressed. “Well they say elves are the most understanding race in the country.”
“They do bloody well not,” Flip muttered, writing furiously, trying to focus. All the canon wrongness was beginning to make her feel ill.
Meanwhile, Rez’s eyes were also beginning to water. “I cast thee out!” she continued, her voice wavering. The exorcism wasn’t working well. She was going to cry, she knew it, and Wash was only getting worse. “The power- of WHEDON- compels thee!”
The numerous blows and the repetitions of his creator’s name finally began to affect Wash. His body twitched a little, and the familiar ghostly figure began to form. The Sue-spirit looked a bit fainter than usual. It became more visible as Rez kept the exorcism going, but very, very slowly.
Rez bit back a scream of frustration. She had had just about enough. “Flip!” she cried. “The Whisk! Now!”
Flip glanced at Rez and Wash, at the Whisk lying on the ground several feet away, at River and Legolas leaning closer to each other, thinking at lightning speed. If she ran the Whisk over to Rez, she was going to be too late. The Sue-spirit still had a tenuous hold on Wash. If her partner was attempting to dispel it before the exorcism was done, things had gone wahooni-shaped. There was nothing for it. It was her turn to borrow from a Discworld character. She darted over, snatched up the Whisk, and threw it.
It didn’t make a ripping noise or leave a trail of sparks behind it as it flew through the air. It simply rocketed towards the Sue-spirit, shredded it into wisps of smoke with barely any deceleration, rebounded off a tree with a metallic clang and a shower of falling leaves, and hit the ground.
Flip stared at her hand in shock. “Did I know I could do that?” she whispered. She felt weak.
A sudden burst of sound snapped her out of it. River was singing. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was singing Evanescence. It was strange.
“Wash. Wash, stay with me.” Rez waved a hand in front of his eyes. Her voice came out as a harsh croak. “Look at me, Wash.”
The dazed man tried to focus on her. “Who- are you?”
“That’s not important,” Rez rasped. “Listen to me. I can help you. I can get your wounds healed-”
“No,” Wash managed. “I think- I’ve already died once. Does that make sense?”
“You have no idea,” said Rez, unaware that tears had started to run down her face, “how much sense it makes. Look at me.”
“I’m looking,” Wash said. His voice was growing more labored by the second. “What-”
“I am so sorry,” Rez whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. The neuralizer flashed.
She covered Wash’s eyes with a shaking hand. “You’re in the cockpit on Serenity,” she said quickly. “You just dodged the Reavers and the Alliance ships. You’re- a leaf on the wind.”
Wash nodded, just once. “Tell Zoe- I love her.”
Rez felt his eyes close. “She knows,” she replied. She knew he couldn’t hear.
Across the clearing, Flip saw her partner stand up. There was blood on her hands- she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Her face was set in a stony mask. Flip knew that look. It meant Rez had had more than she could take and was in shock, and that meant that violence was about to ensue. She raised one eyebrow at the taller agent- although only by a bit, in their elven disguises- and took a deliberate step back.
Rez marched into the clearing and tapped the Sue-River on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss?” she said brightly.
River turned around, looking quite miffed at being interrupted in the middle of her song. “what?” she snapped.
“Hi,” Rez said, still in the same bright tone of voice. The mask had been replaced with a scary smile. “This little gadget I have in my hand, ‘case you didn’t recognize it, is a blowgun. It’s got a poisoned dart in it. Flip, keep an eye on Greenleaf here, and don’t look at his eyes. They change color.”
Flip stepped in front of Legolas, who had started to go for his bow. “I’ll take that,” she murmured, confiscating the offending item.
“Now, I have rather a lot of different poisons on these darts, and they got all shuffled up when we dumped our gear earlier. I think the one I’ve got is fairly safe. Freezes up your body for a while, but it won’t kill you.” Rez’s smile turned up a notch. “‘Course, it could be bloat. You know what bloat does?”
Eyes wide, River shook her head. “No, but-”
“Let’s just say,” Rez said slowly, “that if you get even a little bit of bloat in your system, we’ll all be wearing you. A very thin coat of you.” She cranked the smile all the way up. “Only one way to find out, Miss River.”
“How do you know my-”
Thunk.
Quietly, River toppled over onto the ground.
Rez rolled the Sue onto her back. “Wouldn’t want you to suffocate all easy-like before we charge you, now would we?” she mumbled, more to herself than to the frightened-looking character replacement. “Huh. Pathetic. If you’re going to impersonate River, don’t leave out the arse-kicky bits.”
“Rez, you’re switching speech modes all over the place,” Flip said.
“Yes. And?” Rez narrowed her eyes at her partner.
Flip shrugged. “I’m just saying, is all.” She looked at the impostor Legolas, considered, and socked him in the face.
Rez blinked as the elf joined the girl on the ground. “Really, Flip, was that necessary? And did I know you could do that?”
“Beats the heck out of me,” said Flip. “And you’re one to talk.”
Rez’s face snapped back into its mask again. “You have not seen anything yet. I’ll tie him up. You get the list.”
She searched around for a bit until she found the plothole that the Stu-Legolas had apparently pulled his rope out of. “Can’t believe I forgot the rope,” she muttered to herself. “Bloody humiliating.”
“All right, I got it,” said Flip, returning with the notebook.
“Sock-rockin’. I’ve got the Stu tied up.” Rez kicked Legolas in the ribs. “Wake up! We have some charges for you!”
Legolas stirred and opened his eyes, one of which was starting to show a bruise. “Waht is teh meaning of this?!” he demanded. “I am the prince of-”
“I shall step on you,” Rez interrupted, raising a foot threateningly. As she was nearly six feet most of the time, and taller still as an elf, this was not an idle threat. Her feet were a force to be reckoned with. “Go ahead, Flip.”
“Right. A-hem.” Flip stepped forward, flipping pages in the note book. “Legolas Greenleaf, alias Marty Stu, you are charged with employing horrendous spelling and grammar, having the wrong name, causing aberrational geography, palaces in Mirkwood, and optically challenging building materials, two counts of altering Elvish biology- to wit, color-changing eyes and ‘strangly pointed ears-’ mischaracterizing Thranduil, general abuse of the English and Elvish languages, impersonating a canon character, and being a willing accomplice to Weepy McEmopants over here. Oh, and being a Marty Stu.”
She took a deep breath and turned to River. “Goodness. This is taking a long time. Okay. River Tam, alias Mary Sue, you are charged with all that stuff, plus rampant surrealism, inexplicable plotholes, looking at Legolas’s mind, intra-story author’s notes, inserting bad poetry and stolen song lyrics, being way too emo for anyone’s good, creating no less than five mini-Reavers- Friefly, Riever, Simone, Kailee, and Was- and three mini-Balrogs- Middle Eart, Tranduil, and Legolass- doing an extremely bad job of impersonating a canon character, repeated mischaracterization and abuse of Hoban Washburn, freaking us both out, and being a very blatant Sue. We find you both guilty as charged and sentence you to death. Rez?”
During the reading of the charges, Rez had retrieved her pistol crossbow. Now she aimed it at the Stu-Legolas and shot him in the chest. “One down,” she said.
“That was.. surprisingly merciful,” Flip commented. Upon his death, the Stu had reverted to the default appearance- a generic pretty-boy elf.
“He wasn’t the bad one,” replied Rez, giving her partner a slightly demented grin. “Hand me the remote activator, please.”
“A- are you going to kill me?” the Sue managed, her voice trembling.
“Nope,” Rez beamed. “But trust me, you’re going to wish I had.”
Flip picked up the device, blinking. “Here. What-”
“You’ll see,” Rez said airily. Humming to herself, she punched a set of coordinates and pointed the activator at the River-Sue. “I would stand back, if I were you,” she advised, and hit the button.
The Sue dropped through the portal that opened underneath her. Sounds of screaming drifted up through it, and then Rez closed the portal again.
“Tell me you didn’t just drop her where I think you just dropped her,” Flip said, as the canon snapped back to normal.
“All right, I won’t tell you.” Rez tossed the remote activator back and wound her way through the now-canonically-placed trees toward the gear. She was dusting her hands off in a satisfied manner.
Flip peered at the coordinates that were still on the remote activator screen. “No. You didn’t.”
“I did,” said Rez. “Where’d the Whisk go? Oh, there it is.”
“Rez. You put her on a Reaver ship.” Flip trailed after her partner. “I’m pretty sure that qualifies as torture. Upstairs is not going to be happy.”
Rez sighed, tossing the last of the gear into the bag. “Upstairs can go whistle. Quite frankly? She deserved it.”
Flip considered. “Well… yes. Point taken.”
“Come on, let’s portal out of here.” Rez sighed. “I need a drink.”
The agents were quiet as Flip opened up the portal back into the response center. Flip was still feeling the aftereffects of the sheer canon wrongness, and Rez’s adrenaline rush was rapidly wearing off.
“Oh, um, the body?” Flip paused. “What should we-”
“Meh. Just leave it,” Rez said. She had one foot in the RC already. “Dead elf? The spiders will probably get it.”
“And what about the real River and Legolas? Shouldn’t we find them?”
“Oh, for all the gods’ sakes!” Rez wailed, extracting herself reluctantly. “We’re never going to be done! All right, let’s play find-the-plothole.”
They did, by the simple expedient of waving the CAD around until it beeped. Inside were the two very bewildered and angry canons, both of whom looked even more bewildered and angry at the sight of two suddenly-appearing ellith covered in bloodstains. Rez quickly neuralized them before any damage could be inflicted on the agents.
“Right, Legolas, you’re on patrol. There was an incident with some spiders but you dealt with it. Everything’s fine. Go back to the halls and report.” Legolas nodded and moved purposefully away through the trees.
Flip looked at River, scrambling for a reasonable explanation. “Um, River.. you’ve been on a job with Mal and the crew. Serenity is this way.” She zapped up a portal and escorted River through.
“No one else from the crew was actually involved,” Flip said in an undertone. “So they’re fine. Now we can head back.”
“Thank the deity of your choice. Oh wait.. bugger. Hang on. I… have to tell Zoe something.” Rez ducked through the portal before Flip could stop her.
“Rez, what- ah, screwit.” Flip settled down beside the portal and waited.
A few minutes later, the taller agent returned, attempting to look like she hadn’t been crying. “All done,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
The grey walls and eclectic décor were a welcome sight after first the blatant non-canonicity and then the close-in darkness of Mirkwood as it should be. Rez immediately set about mixing herself a large glass of PG2B2, drained it in two goes and collapsed onto the sofa. Flip, meanwhile, set the Whisk back in the wall rack and stowed the bag in a corner.
A light blinked on the console. “Hey, Rez? We have some messages waiting-”
Rez snored.
Flip shrugged, turned the console screen off, and curled up on one of the beanbag chairs. The impending lecture from Upstairs was, apparently, going to have to wait. In the meantime, she might as well get some sleep.