Wishes and Crystals aka. Mistakes Were Made

Disclaimer: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia; I have Permission to write this spin-off. The Sleep Mellon was first written by Alleb. Saxo and James are mine. The world of Harry Potter was created by J. K. Rowling and the world of Labyrinth by Jim Henson.
The fanfic being sporked, Wishes and Crystals belongs to Princess Emarelda.

Thanks to eatpraylove and S.M.F. who have been enormously helpful with betaing.

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When the other two agents had left for their mission, James looked around the RC. “Might as well get started on our chores while they are out.”

“I don’t want to do chores,” said Saxo. “Why do we even have chores? We’re not kids.”

“Well, what do you want to do, if not chores?”

“I … uh … I want to contemplate important things.”

James crossed his arms. “You mean, you want to lounge about and re-watch The Force Awakens. You do realize that Kylo Ren is not supposed to be a role-model?”

“Mind your own business, fox!”

“Happily, when you mind yours.” James handed Saxo a plastic bag. “It is your turn to clean Aniseed’s litter box.”

“Urgh,” Saxo groaned, but went over to the litter box anyway. He pulled out his wand from his robes. “Accio cat poop,” he yelled and deftly caught the flying clumps in the bag. “I can’t believe I’m reduced to using my magic like this.”

“You could just scoop them out like a normal person,” pointed out James, who had begun washing the many tea mugs.

“Like a Muggle, you mean. That’s not what I’m talking about. We should have house elves.” Saxo sighed and pointed the wand at the litter box again. “Accio clumps!”

The clumps came flying out of the litter box just as Aniseed came flying out from somewhere and pounced on the biggest. It fell apart into a rain of dirty sand.

Aniseed stood in the middle of it, looking wide-eyed. “Mreow,” she said, and licked a paw before walking off towards the Radioactive Moss Creature’s room.

“Merlin’s wrinkly left cheek,” Saxo muttered, and went over to look under the sink for a broom and a dustpan. Therefore, when the console suddenly went BEEEEP!! he banged his head on the sink.

James walked over, pressed the button to silence the alarm, and started reading the report. Saxo, still rubbing his head and muttering different variations of “Merlin’s [adjective] [body part]” under his breath, joined him.

It turned out to be a new Harry Potter/Labyrinth crossover, and judging by the report, it combined and magnified the worst badfic traits from both continua.

“Myla… Sarah might have acted that way before going through the labyrinth, but not afterwards. If she did, then the whole movie would have been pointless,” complained James.

“Mucking up the magical world?” muttered Saxo. “We’ll see about that.”

When they were done reading they were once again united, if not comfortably then at least efficiently, in the common loathing of a badfic.

Saxo took the backpack from the shelf and checked the contents to make sure everything was there, while James started punching buttons on the console.

“Are we going as House Elves again?” asked James.

Saxo just nodded with gritted teeth, since he despised going as anything non-human.

James set the disguises and opened the portal, Saxo hoisted the backpack, and they stepped through.

 

 

They stood in prefic darkness and had to cover their ears as an Author’s Note in bold blared over them.

Wishes & Crystals begins a year after Sarah’s journey through the Labyrinth.

It is fall again and school is one month in. Sarah is now extremely close to Toby, but Karen and her father don’t change. They are uncaring and ignore her.

The CAD gave a BEEP loud enough to be heard over the din. Saxo took it out and looked at the display. [Centered text found. Revert to left-justified? Y/N]

Saxo pressed to confirm, and a moment later the format of the text became less obnoxious, although it didn’t do anything for the content.

“Why are there so many badfics that try to make Karen and Sarah’s dad out to be neglectful or borderline abusive?” asked James. “They are pretty normal parents and Sarah was having normal teenage conflicts with them. Nobody was actually horrible.”

Saxo simply shrugged and handed him the notebook so he could get started on the charge list, since the badness kept piling up with every new sentence.

One day Karen decides that Sarah is just a problem getting in the way of their happy family so she convinces Robert to let her send Sarah away to a horrible Catholic Orthodox boarding school run by nuns in Mass. Bay. But Sarah not only has caught the eye of the goblin king. She has caught the attention of Albus Dumbledore and the moon goddess, Selene.

“Well, there it is,” said Saxo. “She’s a big, honking Sue and we don’t need anything other than that paragraph to …”

“No,” interrupted James firmly. “We are going to do this by the book.”

“Urgh!”

Ignorant of her heritage, Sarah is shocked to discover that her great grandfather, Aldethas Gallan Williams was a wizard, she accepts the invitation to attend Hogwarts, unknown to her parents who think she is in Mass.

“That is not how it works,” said James, scribbling. “She is a minor so she does not get to attend Hogwarts without the consent of her parents, certainly not without their knowledge. I am charging for having herself kidnapped.”

But she is not alone, along with her new Griffindor friends, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, the Weasleys,Ron, Fred, Ginny, George, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Oliver Wood, and Alicia Spinnet, she might just survive. Unfortunately with all this Sarah gains a powerful enemy, Draco Malfoy.

Saxo bent down to pick up Griffindor and placed it on top of the backpack. “Don’t fall off,” he warned. The mini-Aragog clicked its pincers in reply.

Sarah has much to hide yet much to gain, she discovers that not only does she have tame magic (wizard magic) she has wild magic (Labyrinth Fae Magic). Secretly, she learns and discovers more about her Fae powers that are equal to Jareth’s and experiences the effects and duties as a moon child and it’s gifts.

“Urgh!” exclaimed Saxo. “She might as well be ticking off a list of Labyrinth and Harry Potter Sue clichés.”

“I think something is finally happening.”

Sure enough, the darkness around them lifted and they found themselves standing on the pavement in front of Sarah’s house. Sarah herself was coming up the street with her dog on a leash, so the agents had to hide around a corner.

Mid July – Saturday, July 16, 1994

The world around them started to shake ever so slightly.

“Must be the time-shift,” whispered James. “Labyrinth takes place around 1986, almost a decade before this.”

Sarah had wished Toby away about seven and a half months before.

The shaking became even more pronounced.

“What’s this, then?” asked Saxo.

“The intro said that the story begins a year after the events of Labyrinth,” James explained. “So there is not just a jump in the canon time, but the story’s own internal chronology is inconsistent.”

“You’ve been doing some reading, haven’t you?”

“I take this work seriously and I would thank you to do the same.”

“She’s entering the house; let’s follow.”

They went all the way around the house, looking for an open window, before James remembered that they could just portal in. Saxo thought of Apparating in at the same time, so they argued about which way would work better before finally doing it each their own way and meeting up inside.

This meant that they missed a lot of whining from Sarah about what an awful mother Karen was and how she was basically a slave in her own home, as well as a flashback to the first manifestation of Sarah’s new powers (summoning crystals when she got angry).

She did magic when she could, like if she forgot a book or was running late to school. She still talked to Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus constantly and she even had some goblin friends, who loved to make mischief for Karen. Her hob-goblin friends were, Ziggy, Gimp, No-Nose, Dizz, Dusty, Wagli, Peeku, and Moli.

“Soooo…” said Saxo, scratching his nose thoughtfully. “Do you want to bet that only one or two of them will have lines or any kind of personality and the rest will just be in the background once each, after which we’ll never see them again because she got tired of copy-pasting the names?”

“No.”

“Bucket of fun you are. Also, incoming flashback. Brace yourself.”

Everything went sepia-toned as a scene played where Sarah was upset with Karen and a group of Brownies showed up and started to clean the house while singing and dancing. Then the flashback ended.

They had introduced themselves as Patches, Brownie, and Buttons.

“Hang on, what?” asked Saxo after the flashback had ended. “Whatever happened to Dingy, Stuffy, and Butthurt or whatever their names were? And weren’t they supposed to be hob-goblins?”

“She must have changed her mind. I should have taken that bet anyway, since it turned out you were wrong.”

Saxo sniffed. “Only on a technicality. I was right that she couldn’t be bothered with writing them properly; I just underestimated how little she actually cared.”

“She is using the mirror to call Hoggle now. You should get a reading on him to find out how out of character he is.”

Saxo scowled but took out the CAD.

Hoggle’s face appeared in the mirror and he stepped through. “Hiya missy!”Hoggle said. “Hey Hoggle. How are you and the guys?”Sarah asked.

“Line breaks. They exist for a reason,” said Saxo.

“We are well Sarah. Ludo and Didymus have set up a stand in the marketplace. Ludo sells rocks that change shape in your hand and Didymus carves wood.

Saxo laughed out loud, making both Sarah and Hoggle pause and look around, so that he and James had to duck so as not to be seen. After a moment the two canons shrugged and continued their conversation.

“I didn’t know you were so good at whittling,” whispered Saxo. “That baton you’re using, did you make that yourself?”

James scowled, but elected to ignore the jibe. Instead he said: “It just said in an earlier paragraph that she talks to her three friends constantly, so why does this conversation read like she has not seen any of them for months?”

“Hm. You’re right. This is starting to look less like sloppy writing and more like a serious case of amnesia.”

“And it seems to be contagious. You still need to get that reading.”

Saxo rolled his eyes but pointed the CAD at Hoggle, checked that it was muted, and pressed the button. Then he read the display before showing it to James.

[Hoggle. Goblin. Canon. OOC 45%.] The text blinked and was replaced with: [It sounds like a lot, but he is hardly in this story.] Blink. [Not glamorous enough, you know?]

“Tell me about it,” muttered Saxo and was about to put the CAD away, when James said: “Get a reading on Sarah, while you are at it.”

“Don’t see why we have to bother. She’s as Sueish a Sue as I’ve ever seen. We’d just risk the CAD blowing up.”

“And if we don’t do this properly, we risk Upstairs blowing up.” James made a grab for the CAD and got it.

Saxo ignored him and stepped in front of Sarah after she finished talking to Hoggle. “Sarah Williams, also known as Mary Sue, you are charged with being a big honking Sue, multiple time-shifts, and not caring enough about your own story or your own OCs to keep even the simplest details straight. You are sentenced to die. Avada Kedavra!”

The killing curse struck the confused looking Sarah squarely in the chest and she keeled over backwards.

“Noooo!” James yelled.

Saxo turned. “What?”

James held up the CAD and showed him the display. [Sarah Williams. Human. Canon. OOC 32%.] It blinked. [You messed up.]

Saxo felt his knees go wobbly. “She’s the real Sarah? But she had every single mark of being a Sue!”

“And that is why we get a reading before executing anyone,” replied James through gritted teeth. He opened the notebook and wrote a short message, before ripping out the page and placing it on Sarah’s chest. Then he opened a portal. “Help me get her through. Carefully.”

“Is this going to the Bog of Eternal Stench?” asked Saxo as they lifted the dead body through.

“What?! No! It is a portal to Medical. They can fix her.”

“But she’s dead!”

“She is a canon. They can fix her. We, however, are still in trouble and we will need to clean this up without further mishaps.” He scanned the Words ahead of them. “Fortunately, it would seem that Sarah does not show up again for a while. We will proceed with our duty.”

Meanwhile, in Salem, Massachusetts, a young middle age woman sat at a desk.

The Word World shimmered for a moment, then settled on a young woman in a dress that looked like it came from a historical movie with little thought to accuracy and an even smaller budget.

She pulled out some creamy stationary and began to write in a beautiful flowing script. Soon she was finished and she sealed the note in the envelope.

A large pool of spilled cream appeared on the desk, which the woman wrote in with a pen. It went about as well as you would expect. When she was finished, she wiped the cream from the table down into an envelope, spilling most of it, before sending it off with an owl.

“Creamy is actually an acceptable word for ‘cream coloured’,” muttered James. “The Word World must be seriously out of whack to interpret it literally.”

The woman’s name was Anya McCallistar. She was a witch and the headmistress of a wizard school in Salem.

James sniffed. “Smells like a Sue to me. You had better get a reading on heeeeer!!” The last word ended in a drawn out yowl, as they were dragged sideways into a new scene.

At the same time in Salem, Massachusetts,

“Wait, what?” asked Saxo, getting to his feet. “Weren’t we here just a minute ago?”

“I have a feeling of deja moo,” said James.

a kind woman with deep blue eyes and blond hair in her mid-thirties, stared at a large old thick book.

A man entered the room and greeted the woman as Anya and she greeted him as Casper.

The two Agents hid behind a curtain, although it was doubtful if any of the two people would have noticed them, since Anya had been oblivious to their headfirst tumble into the room.

Anya Felling was a wise woman of thirty-five. She had deep big blue eyes and golden blond hair that fell to her shoulders.

“I will make sure to contact the Department of Redundancy Department about this,” said James.

She wore a black wizard robe, with two symbols on the right chest. One was the shield of Gryffindor the other was the shield that said -Salem School of Witchcraft- with a black cat. She was the founder and headmistress of the school. It was the only wizard and witch school in the United States that existed.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Merlin’s pantaloons!” swore Saxo. “How arrogant can one get? Not only is she headmistress at the age of thirty-five, but she claims to have founded the first and only Wizarding School in America? I know this is before Pottermore and all that, but this is still beyond stupid! How and where does she think magically gifted American children got their training before she came along?”

He pulled out the CAD, muted it, and pointed it at Anya. [Anya Felling, or possibly McCallistar. Female human. Non-canon. Yup, that’s a Sue alright.]

James glanced at the read-out. “We have our target,” he said.

“So do we just kill her now or …?” asked Saxo.

“We gather charges and, if we are very lucky, we will manage to gather enough to warrant killing her and ending the fic before Sarah is set to make her next appearance.”

“And if we’re not?”

“I have read of a case like that. One of the agents had to play the role of the canon character in the fic to get the story moving along.” James’ facial expression was neutral, but there was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

After Ayna graduated from Hogwarts in 1977, she became an Auror.

“Looks like I might just avoid having to …” began Saxo. He stopped and looked at a tiny version of Anya running in circles on the floor. “Is that a mini-Sue?”

“It must be Ayna,” replied James.

There was an excited hissing, and then Griffindor jumped through the air and landed next to the mini-Sue, who only had time for a small squeak before meeting her timely demise.

“Good mini-Aragog,” said James brightly.

She did this for five years, until she was twenty-three. She then returned to Salem, Massachusetts and founded a magic school for magical children in the United States with the help of some of her friends from Hogwarts.

Saxo pinched the bridge of his nose. “She didn’t just become an Auror, she ditched the job again.”

In the fic, Anya explained to Casper that a new name of a fifteen year old girl had showed up in the Book of Listings. She wrote a letter to Dumbledore and McGonagall and sent it by owl. This time, no dairy products were involved.

She then went to the staff room and explained to some of the present faculty members how she had found out about Sarah.

“A new witch has been announced. And not just any witch. Her name is Sarah Katherine Williams. She is fifteen years old and lives with her father, stepmother, and half baby brother, Toby, in the town of Crystal Falls, New Jersey.”

There was another silence, this time from embarrassment, as both Agents tried to fathom the level of subtlety it would take to have a Labyrinth fic take place in a town called Crystal Falls.

James cleared his throat. “One of the faculty members is the uncanonical brother of Nymphadora Tonks.”

Grateful for something to do, Saxo took out the CAD and got a reading on Henry Tonks. [Henry Tonks. Male human. Non-canon. Bit original character. Very little bit.]

“Funny,” muttered Saxo and put it back in his pocket.

“The girl that just was listed today in the Book of Listings, is the great granddaughter of Aldethas Gallan Williams and is the great great niece of Godric Gryffindor.”

“She is the Gryffindor Heir!”Casper exclaimed.

The agents found themselves in Dumbledore’s office almost as quickly as they’d arrived in Salem.

The headmaster received Anya’s letter and then went to his own staff room, where a selection of faculty members were gathered.

“I just got a letter from Anya everyone!”Dumbledore said entering the room. “Oh Albus, what does it say?”Minerva asked. “I haven’t read it yet.”Dumbledore said opening the letter.

Both Agents facepalmed twice in a row. It helped a little because the physical pain distracted from the pain of the stupid.

Anya McClallistar was a student at Hogwarts long ago, when she grew up she went to America and founded a school for witches and wizards there. Dumbledore silently read the letter.

With another enthusiastic hiss, Griffindor jumped down and took care of McClallistar the mini-Sue, while James noted a charge in very large letters with many exclamation points for being unable to decide on her own name.

James frowned. “Sarah is about to show up in the next scene, so we had better stop this now.” He winced. “The kids at her school call her ‘Ice Queen’.”

Saxo also made a pained expression. The Sarah!Sue in the badfic they both originated from had had the same nickname. “Cliché much?” he said with a laugh that sounded a little shaky. “Are you sure there are no more major charges?”

“I am sure.” James pointed ahead in the Words to the end of the following chapter, which contained an Author’s Note asking for ideas for how Sarah and Jareth should meet.

Saxo made a disgusted noise. “Very well. As you say, we should wrap this parody of a fic up.” He had managed to pull himself together, but was still so shaken from his mistake, that he didn’t even comment on the fact that in the Words he had just scanned, Hoggle said that Didymus’ dog was smarter than he was.

Then he hesitated, thinking for a moment. “Actually, let’s get Anya first and stuff her in an Oubliette. I want her to sit and think about what’s coming next.” He grinned, grabbed James’s arm, and Apparated back to Salem. Anya had no life outside her role in the plot, so she was still waiting in her office for McGonagall to arrive. It was eerie and rather sad in a way, but at least it made it very easy to open a portal under Anya’s chair, which she fell through with a yelp.

The agents quickly made a round to all the characters who had been affected by the story — this time by portal, since James claimed that apparating gave him an upset stomach — and erased everyone’s memories of the events of the fic using alternately the neuralyzer and Memory Charms, and in Hoggle’s case both at once.

“Oops,” said James, looking down at the unconscious Hoggle. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Saxo. “We can ask in Medical when we get back. Discreetly, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Well, that was almost as dull as wading through this fic,” said Saxo when they were done cleaning up and had gotten rid of Henry Tonks.

James opened a portal to the Oubliette and they stepped through.

Saxo yelled “Stupefy!” at the Sue and she froze sitting on the floor. Only her eyes moved, darting from one to the other as if she knew this could not be good.

James took out the notebook, but Saxo asked “May I?”

With a surprised look at his partner being polite, James handed it over.

Saxo cleared his throat and began: “Anya McCallistar or Felling or whatever your name is, you are charged with exceptionally sloppy writing leading to, among other things, time-shifts, random name changes, and spawning Griffindor the mini-Aragog along with two mini-Sues. You are further charged with having a completely overblown backstory, being both a former Auror and the headmistress of a wizarding school you founded yourself when you’re not even in your forties, being arrogant enough to claim that said school is the only one in North America, putting several other characters Out of Character, especially Sarah Williams, who we killed in the belief she was a Sue —”

“Hang on!” interrupted James. “You do not get to pin that on her. You killed Sarah because you could not be bothered to get a reading. That has nothing to do with her.”

“Only because she was so Sueish! Anyone would have mistaken her for the main Sue!”

“But not anyone would have killed her without making sure.” James’ expression of anger was replaced by one of sadness. “You killed her, because you wanted to. Because you hate the real Sarah, and for this … I apologize.”

“You … apologize?” Saxo could not have been more surprised if James had sprouted an extra head. Even the Sue looked puzzled.

“In our last mission together,” James said slowly, “I wanted to kill the replacement-Sue prematurely, without even charging her, because I love Sarah so much. You held me back, reminded me of my Duty. I should have done the same for you, but I failed you. I failed the Flowers. This is my fault. I am sorry.”

He stopped talking and just stood, looking dejected.

Saxo cleared his throat again. He felt like he should do or say something, but had absolutely zero experience with comforting an upset person and nothing in his background to help him out. How would Mittens or the RMC handle this?

“Look, I screwed up and it’s not something you should take the blame for,” he said finally. “Anyway, Medical will fix Sarah, we’ll kill this Sue and fix canon, and the Flowers will forgive us. It’ll be alright.”

James looked up. “You think so?”

“I do. Now let’s get this over and done with. I’m sick of this story.” He made a gesture towards the Sue. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“In that case, Anya, I charge you with being a Sue and the center of an awful story. The punishment is death and you do not get any last words because, frankly, there’s been enough talking.”

 

After watching the Sue sink in the Bog of Eternal Stench and making sure that there were no more bubbles coming up, the agents opened a portal back to RC#170 and stepped through, reluctantly. They were half expecting to see agents from the Department of Internal Affairs waiting to arrest them, but the RC was empty, apart from the many minis, Aniseed and the Prefect Badger, which was snoring peacefully in a corner. Either Mittens and the RMC hadn’t gotten back from their mission yet, or they had gone somewhere else.

Griffindor jumped eagerly from the backpack and joined the small group of mini-Aragogs, who all hissed excitedly.

There was a soft “blup” and a message appeared on the screen of the console. “Come see me at once. The Floating Hyacinth.”

Saxo gulped audibly, but James reached out and squeezed his arm. “We’ll go together. We’ll face this as fellow agents.”

Saxo simply nodded, and they went out the door, whereupon a melon with Elf ears bounced past, snored menacingly, and continued on its way.

The agents looked after it, looked at each other, shrugged, and went in the opposite direction to face the wrath of their department head.

 

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Epilogue 01 – Sparklewolves and Scrabble

Agents Mittens and the Radioactive Moss Creature were on their way back from RC#9L0121F4114C3, walking backwards through the corridors of Headquarters, when the RMC said: “Now, about that Sparkewolf …”
Mittens’ mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Finally he swallowed and said: “How did you know? I thought I snatched it when everyone were distracted.”
“I don’t think Agents Shieh and Elerossiel noticed a thing. I certainly didn’t see you take it. I just heard you lament the fate of the poor mini and then you went awfully quiet on the subject. It didn’t seem like you at all.”
“I didn’t mean for anyone to know. I didn’t want anyone else to get into trouble.”
“Mittens …”
“We can’t send it back. We can’t.”
“You know the rules as well as I do. We can’t keep it.”
“I’m not talking about about keeping it. But we can’t let it be stuck in badfics forever. We just can’t.”
The RMC was surprised and a little bit shocked to see that Mittens’ eyes were wet. It was enough to make its mossy heart ache. Mittens, who always did his duty, who never complained and who never asked for anything.
It lowered its head. “Can’t send it back, can’t get it adopted. What we need,” it lifted its head again, “is a third option. And I have an idea as to who might provide that.” It lifted a paw to stop Mittens saying anything. “Mind you, I haven’t promised anything. If we get a no, then the mini goes back. I’m giving it a chance, nothing more.”
Despite these words, Mittens beamed a smile at the RMC.
“Now we just have to find …” the RMC began, then stopped when it noticed the sign on a door on their left, “… RC#412. Which is right here. Well, I guess it was a rather distracting conversation we were having.” It looked at Mittens. “Go on. Knock.”

On one hand, there was no answer when Mittens knocked on the door. On the other hand the door wasn’t closed properly and opened when he knocked on it. The Agents looked at each other, shrugged and entered a small room. It didn’t seem like anyone was living here, since the room contained nothing but a desk with a computer and a chair, in which a woman was sitting. She gave a small start and turned to look at them with a guilty expression as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t, while at the same time closing a browser window.
She blinked. “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.” Then, as if remembering her manners: “What can I do for you?”
The RMC turned to Mittens. “Close the door please.” When it had been done, it said: “Mittens, this is EileenAlphabet, Agent of the Department of Intelligence and author self-insert.”
Mittens stuck out his hand, which Eileen took, a bit awkwardly. He noticed that she was wearing nail polish, which was in a fetching shade of blue, but so worn and chipped, that on average only half of each nail was covered.
Eileen looked at the RMC. “So, how may I be of assistance?”
The RMC looked straight back at her, as it said. “Mittens, show her the mini.”
Mittens didn’t hesitate, but placed the backpack on the floor and took out the mini-Sparklewolf in question.
Eileen looked at the wolf questioningly, but said nothing, apparently waiting for an explanation.
“This,” the RMC said, “is a mini-Sparklewolf.” It paused. “It’s name is Stephanie.”
It took a moment, the understanding dawned on Eileens face. “Oh,” she said.
“Yes, oh,” the RMC agreed. “You know what the problem is. It can’t be adopted and there’s no OFU for Twilight it can be sent to. We were hoping that you, being what you are, could help us find a solution.”
“What, are you expecting me to start a Twilight OFU?”
“Certainly not.” The RMC actually shuddered a bit at the thought. “We were hoping you could think of a third solution. Come up with something creative.”
Eileen leaned back in her chair. “If I could do that – and I’m not saying that I can, but if I could – you realise that the Flowers very much frown on this type of thing? An author self insert, using her … abilities to break a stated rule? That’s more than halfway to Suedom right there.”
“I’ve been led to understand as much. But I have to admit, I can’t see the harm in writing a happy end for this poor mini.”
Eileen smiled, an odd smile, and leaned forwards towards the mini-Sparklewolf. Mittens shuffled his feet uneasily. Something about her seemed different suddenly. She started to speak and her voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere other that her lips.
“The authoress reached out towards the cute mini-Sparklewolf.’”
Mittens shivered. Stephanie looked fluffier and more glittery than before. He looked at Eileen’s hand as she reached out towards it. The nail polish was perfectly smooth and without the smallest scratch.
“’Do you need a place to stay, little one? You can stay with me and those evil Flowers won’t have anything to say about it.’”
Her hand was almost touching the mini-Sparklewolf’s head. It gave a low whine, but seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move. Then she pulled back her hand; the nail polish was chipped again.
“No.” She looked at them with an ironic smile. “This wasn’t what you had in mind when you asked me to think of something to bend the rules?”
The RMC shook its head.
Eileen once more leaned back in her chair. Her demeanour was now crisp and businesslike. “We can get in a world of trouble for doing this and no doubt we will. But I’m afraid you came to the the right person. I never could refuse someone asking me to help a small fluffy creature.” She reached out and scratched the mini-Sparklewolf behind the ears. It thumped its tail against the floor enthusiastically. “I’ll think up something for Stephanie here. But you’ll owe me one” She sighed. “And if the Flowers find out – and I suspect they already know – you owe me an even bigger one.”

The noises from RC#170 could be heard not only though the closed door, but a rather long way down the corridor.
Mittens sighed. “There they go again. No doubt they started fighting the moment we left and have been at it ever since.” He opened the door and he and the RMC stepped inside.
The sight that greeted them was not quite what they had expected. James and Saxo were facing each other across the small table; James was growling and Saxo had his own teeth bared and none of them had noticed the other two Agents enter. It looked like they had been sitting down for a cup of tea or something and had then gotten into an argument. But that was of course impossible. They would never sit down to have tea with one another.
Then Mittens noticed the small tiles that were strewn on the floor and bent to pick one up. It had the letter C on it and a small number 8 in one corner. He showed it to the RMC who looked from it to the two agents.
“Have you been playing Scrabble?” it asked.
They broke off their staring contest and turned to the RMC, both looking a bit sheepish.
James found his voice first. “I have been playing. That … that craven blackguard,” he pointed at Saxo, “have simply been cheating.”
“Rules are for muggles and weaklings. The strong and capable make their own rules,” Saxo replied loftily, which made James start to growl again.
“No fighting, please,” the RMC said.
“Why are there more mini-Aragogs than usually?” asked Mittens, who had been looking around.
Saxo and James looked at him, then at each other, then back at the other two and then they started to tell them about a mission, they had been on. It was all rather jumbled together and it didn’t help, that they kept interrupting each other, but Mittens and the RMC gathered, that it had been a really awful fic and that they had defeated it together.
“In that case,” said the RMC, “we congratulate you. You are no longer newbies or trainees. You are full agents and real partners.”
Saxo and James eyed each other unenthusiastically at these words.
“We should celebrate with some tea,” Mittens said. “And you know, I have some biscuits, that I have been saving for an occasion like this.” He walked towards the small kitchenette.
Saxo and James gave each other a look of sheer panic this time, before rushing up to Mittens, almost dragging him away from the cupboard and assuring him that they most certainly did not need any biscuits.

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Smells of Rose aka. The Enemy of My Enemy

[Disclaimer: The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia, I’m just playing in it. Saxo Cruore and James Vulpes along with Mittens and the Radioactive Moss Creature are mine. Mine! Muahahaha! Ahem… ‘Smells of Rose‘, or whatever it’s supposed to be called, belongs to karla1980 who is welcome to it. Labyrinth belongs to … um … at this point probably Disney. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Great Chicken Uprising is from Girls Next Door but I love to pretend that it is actual Labyrinth canon.]
[Author’s Note: This mission takes place simultaneously with my co-write with Lily Winterwood. It shows what my other two agents got up to, after Mittens and the RMC had seriously baited the Ironic Overpower by telling them to not get into trouble. It will probably be useful to know that Saxo is a former badfic-bit, a Death Eater, and James is a replacement of a character from Labyrinth. Mission is rated M for swearing.]

The door closed behind Mittens and the Radioactive Moss Creature. Saxo and James looked at each other, the same thought occurring to both. While Mittens had told them most emphatically to not kill each other, he had – most likely because he was in a hurry – neglected to say anything about maiming or grievous bodily harm.
“So …” Saxo began, in a low, threatening voice, but he never had the chance to continue. The console exploded in an ear-shattering [BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!]
Both he and James ran for the door and James threw it open, but Mittens and the RMC were nowhere to be seen. There were only other agents, who gave them annoyed looks, wondering why they didn’t acknowledge the mission and stop the racket.
James closed the door. “We have to turn it off!” he shouted.
“We can’t!” Saxo shouted back. “There’s no way to turn it off! There’s only a button to acknowledge the mission!”
“Why did they send a new mission so soon!? They must have known the others have only just left and won’t be back for awhile!”
Saxo didn’t dignify this with an answer, mostly because he had no idea.
“We’ll have to go outside until the others come back!” James shouted.
Saxo was about to agree, much as it irked him, when a thought struck him. “We can’t go out and leave the minis in this noise! When Mittens finds out, he’ll do unspeakable things to our kneecaps!”
The wailing seemed to be growing louder, even though that shouldn’t have been possible. And so it was that James walked up to the console and slammed the button to acknowledge the mission.
The silence that fell was ominous rather than relieving.
“You’ve acknowledged the mission,” Saxo said.
James chose not to dignify this with an answer.
“Now we have to do the mission, unless Mittens and the Radioactive Moss Creature return right now.”
James did not dignify this with an answer either. To have something to do while not answering, he looked at the Intelligence Report for ‘Smells of Rose’. There were quite a lot of exclamation marks in the Report. He read the description and felt anger start to rise in him. “What! Milady Sarah is at Hogwarts, but she is in league with the Death Eaters! Slander and lies!”
Saxo grinned. “Your precious Lady finally came to her senses?”
James bristled, but then thought of something better and said in a sly voice: “Lady Hermione has gone over as well, because she and Tom Riddle are in love.”
“What! You’re lying! Let me see!” Saxo shoved James aside and looked at the Intelligence Report.
James growled, but then he heard Saxo give a low moan.
“No! That’s not true! The Dark Lord and a Mudblood? Never!”
James gave a mirthless laugh, that sounded like a bark. “Not so much fun, when it is your favourite being defamed.”
There was a long, ominous silence. Even the minis seemed to hold their breaths. Finally, Saxo lifted his eyes from the screen and turned slowly to look at James. In his gaze was a glimpse of the insanity and blood-lust that had originally made Mittens recruit him. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “How about, you and I put our differences behind us …”
“… for as long as it takes us to kill this abomination.” James finished.
“Yes. Then we can go back to ripping each other’s throats out.”
“As is good and proper. Well, I am certainly not against the idea, if only we can find the necessary tools for the task.”
“There’s a spare backpack on the top shelf and as obsessive as Mittens is, I bet it’ll have everything all packed and ready.”
“Sir Mittens is not obsessive! He is thorough.”
“Now now. I thought we agreed to put our differences behind us for the moment.”
James fumed. “That does not mean you get to say anything and I cannot contradict you!”
Saxo had started going through the contents of the backpack. “No? Oh well, maybe it doesn’t. But if we’re being precise here, you should stop calling Mittens ‘Sir’; he’s not a noble and neither is Sarah or Hermione for that matter.”
“But it comes naturally for me to call Sarah ‘Milady’.”
Saxo sighed. “Fine then, but only her.” He closed the backpack tightly. “Let’s go.”
“Should you not bring your sword?”
“I’ll use my wand. It’s canon.”
“Do you know how to work the console? Set disguises and such?”
Saxo shot the piece of machinery in question a wary look. He was against technology on principle, regarding it as inferior to magic, but while at the PPC, he had picked up a thing or two, so maybe he could figure it out. Anyway, he didn’t feel like asking James for help; the fox-person would just be smug about it. He checked the Intelligence Report again.
“It says the fic takes place in both Hogwarts and the Underground, so I guess we’ll go as,” he grimaced, “house-elves, since they look a lot like goblins.” He turned and glowered at James to see if he was grinning, but the fox was managing a surprisingly convincing neutral expression.
Saxo started punching buttons on the console, finishing with the one that opened the portal and they jumped through.

“Here the title of the story is ‘Smells of Roses’, with a plural s,” James noted.
“Makes it sound somewhat less creepy,” Saxo commented drily. “But really, who gets the title of their own story wrong?”

Tom sat in his throne waiting for the Goblin King to come to him for help with the war against the order of the phoenix;

“So, in this story it is Jareth who is fighting the Order?” James asked sarcastically. He wasn’t very good at sarcasm, since his canon counterpart was completely devoid of it, but spend enough time in the PPC and, sooner or later, you’ll start to get the hang of it.
“Just write down a charge for the Dark Lord using his old name and stop picking on every little mistake or you’ll run out of notebook.”
“Why do I have to write the charge list?!”
“Because I did it the last time.”
“So you have fresh experience. This is not a training mission, remember? The other two are not here to help us if we get something wrong.”
Grumbling, Saxo took the notebook and pen and started taking notes.

In the fic it turned out, that it was actually Tom Riddle, who wanted the help of Jareth and his goblins in the war against the wizarding world.
“I suppose that’s kind of in character,” Saxo said reluctantly. “The Dark Lord secured the help of many different creatures, who were unhappy with the wizards.”
“Yes, but these are goblins! Do you have any idea how they fared in the Great Chicken Uprising? They are worse than useless to have on your side.”
“I’m not sure that the Great Chicken Uprising is entirely canon. Anyway, we should just be glad that he’s still the Goblin King and not the Fae King of Jumbled-Together-Celtic-Mythology like in so many other stories.”

Tom looked at Jareth with a worried expression for he is in love with Hermione.

“That, however is most definitely not canon!” Saxo glared at the scene in front of them, angrily fingering his wand. “Get a reading. I want to know if this is a replacement.”
James took out the CAD, made sure that it was muted and pointed it at Tom Riddle.
[Tom Riddle. Wizard. In love? With a Mudblood?] The screen went blank for a moment, then new words showed up. [And you need me to tell you] Blink. [that he is 87,54% out of character?]
The agents both stared at the screen, which had gone blank again. Then James said: “The spare backpack,” at the same time Saxo said: “The replacement CAD.”
“The one with an attitude,” James said.
[I can hear you, you know.]
“Well, there was no reason to be rude!” James said.
“It’s not like we don’t know the Dark Lord is out of whack,” Saxo added, “but we have to get readings to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
James looked back at the action. The Goblin King had just stated that he wanted “Sarah!!!.”
He pointed the CAD at Jareth. It wailed like a kid with a scraped knee and James threw it on the ground and threw himself on it to muffle the sound. Jareth and Tom looked in their direction, but probably dismissed the sound as an unfortunate Muggle-born being tortured somewhere. James finally found the mute button and pressed it.
[Jareth. Goblin King of some sort. Out of Character 31,32%]
“You did that on purpose!” James said.
[One should always check that the CAD is muted before pointing it somewhere.] Blink. [Didn’t your trainer tell you that?]
James growled in reply.
“That was a rather low OOC,” Saxo remarked with a tiny smirk.
James dusted himself off. “Well, the Goblin King is a scheming villain of sorts, and if we accept it as within canon possibility, that he wants Sarah, then the only real crime is him thinking that he needs Tom’s help in getting heeeeeeeeer!!”
The last word ended in a drawn-out yell, as, without warning, they were hurled though space and possibly time to end up at Hogwarts.

Sarah and Hermione were looking for somewhere to hide from Harry and Ron so they could send info to the Dark Lord.

Draco then appears. So you two have come to your senses then.” He beckons them to follow him to the slitherin common room.

James scooped up the mini-Aragog, slitherin, like he had seen Mittens do many times and tried to place it in the backpack. Apparently he lacked Mittens’ skills, for slitherin wiggled in his arms and when he tried to stuff it in the bag, it bit him. In the end he had to be content with letting it ride on top. He shot a look at Saxo to see if he was smiling, but Saxo had a mock serious expression to rival one of the Weasley twins.

Once inside, they tell him that Harry and Ron are looking for the horcrux. “So you would help the dark lord why?” the two girls looked at oneanather and with a smile, “Harry is a little boy who thinks he can defeat the dark lord: A man with more power in he’s little finger, then Harry has in his whole body.” Sarah smiles “Oh so you like the dark lord.” Hermione blushes as Sarah turns to Draco “So can you help us with this?”

James shooed slitherin down, so he could get to the Bleeprin in the backpack. He also handed Saxo a couple without being asked. Not even Saxo deserved to suffer through this sober.

They were pulled back to Tom Riddle’s hideout, but at least this time the scene change was marked. Another mini-Aragog, Luscious, appeared; it had very long, thick, blond hair and did not look happy as it joined slitherin on the backpack.
Tom Riddle was extremely upset when he was informed that Harry and Ron were looking for his ‘horcrux’.
“Horcrux, singular,” James noted. “Apparently this is some AU where he only made one.”
Saxo scowled at the scene. “He wouldn’t want anyone to know about the Horcuxes, not even his own Death Eaters. He would kill Lucius for knowing about them, pausing only to torture him to find out who else knew.”
James shot him a look. “You don’t have to look so satisfied, when talking about death and torture, you know.”
Saxo shrugged. “And you don’t have to call Sarah ‘milady’. We are what we are.”

There was some more abhorrent grammar and spelling which, among other things, caused Jareth to briefly turn into a room, before they were dragged back to Hogwarts, where the mini-Aragog Blaze showed up.
James started getting readings on everyone, with depressing results.

“And why is that?” Blaze asked “You and Sarah are so good friends with the Pothead and Weasel.” Sarah turns to Blaze. “Well they killed my real mum and dad and Hermione’s too, so we are no longer helping them, but you now. If that is cool with you?” Blaze grins

The two agents stared. Their lower jaws slid downwards, further and further, until they seemed to unhinge.
Saxo found his voice first. “What …” he began, then had to close his mouth and swallow. Having it standing wide open like that, had made his mouth dry out. “What was that?”
“I cannot believe it.”
“Neither can I. Harry Potter? Kill someone? Their parents? That little paragon of virtue, who couldn’t even kill Wormtail? That’s the stupidest explanation I’ve ever heard!”
“It is not even a proper explanation. There is no how and why. It is just thrown out there without any kind of details. And this is Harry Potter, a canon rightfully famous for its long and convoluted backstories.”
Saxo looked at James for a moment, but decided that the last remark had not been meant as a personal insult to him, so he simply said: “I think it’s high time we got a reading on these girls.”
James nodded grimly, checked that the CAD was muted, then pointed it at Sarah.
[Sarah. Muggle/witch. Un-canon. Replacement Sue.] Blink. [You’re new to this, so if you need any creative] Blink. [suggestions as to how to kill her, just ask.]
“Thank you,” James said. “But I am sure we can work something out on our own.” He checked the mute button again and pointed it at Hermione.
[Suit yourself. Hermione. Witch. Replacement Sue.]
“Hardly surprising,” Saxo said. He had been looking over James’ shoulder. “Neither of them would ever, under any circumstances join our side. Even if Harry had killed their parents, they would have renounced him, but not the cause.”

Sarah and Hermione were on their way back to the Gryffindor common room when Harry and Ron find them. “Where the fucking hell have you two been?” Ron demands “we’ve been looking all over for you two bitches, so don’t for off like that”

James checked Harry and Ron, who were 21,70% and 48,66% Out of Character, respectively.

“We were in the room requirement Ron” Sarah tells him, completely straight-faced. “Oh, we didn’t think of looking in there, sorry.” Harry Apologises “Are you going to hogmaed this weekend?”

Ron briefly turned into a room. James scowled at the scene and picked up hogmaed, the mini-Aragog.

Ron looks at Hermione like he’s ready to knock her to the floor and fuck her there and then, with everyone still there.

The agents shuddered at the sight, grimaced and swallowed some more Bleeprin.
“This stuff doesn’t last very long,” Saxo complained.
“New chapter, coming up. And there’s another mini, Hogsmead.”

In the next chapter, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sarah were on their way to Hogsmead, which apart from being a mini-Aragog, was also a village, not unlike the canonical Hogsmeade, except that the whole place had a distinct, but not unpleasant smell of pork and honeyed wine. Then Blaise – “At least he’s spelled right now,” Saxo noted – and Draco provoked Harry and Ron into namecalling, which led to Snape sending Harry and Ron home.
There was another mini-Aragog, Wesley.
James got a reading off Snape. [Snape. Wizard. Out of Character: 16.11% ] Blink. [Ironic, isn’t it?]
“Snape is usually one of the most warped characters in badfics,” Saxo noted, “but blatantly favouring Slytherins and sending Harry and Ron home is very much in character.”
“But what was the purpose of that scene,” James asked, annoyed. “To once again show us that the girls really hate Harry and Ron?”
“Why would you assume that there’s a purpose to anything in a badfic?” Saxo suddenly turned a little bit green and placed a hand over his mouth. “Those damn tense shifts are upsetting my stomach. Or maybe it was the food from the cafeteria.”
“The food from the cafeteria was perfectly fine.”
Saxo sneered. “How would you know? You’re canonically known to have no sense of smell at all, which means that your sense of taste is also non-existent.”
“My sense of smell is keen!”
“I knew you’d say that.”

The fic dragged them, once again, to Tom Riddle’s hideout.

“Good.” Jareth says looking rather bored, absentmindedly rolling his crystals around in his hands.

“Let’s be thankful the fic didn’t say he was rolling his balls,” Saxo noted dryly. “With the state the Word World is in, there’s no telling how it would have interpreted that.”
“There’s another mini. It must be ‘Deatheaters’.

“My lord, the potion is ready for you. It will bring your body back but it will be as it was when you were lost to us.”
“Well, this will be something that that old fool would never have thought possible.” Tom says with a triumphant smile, thinking to himself “to be young again and my Hermione only 18 years old.”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Saxo. “He wasn’t young, or for that matter handsome, when he disappeared and he hadn’t been for years.”
“And if Hermione  is 18, this must at least be the seventh year, so they shouldn’t even be at Hogwarts.”
“Oh, that.” Saxo gave a dismissive flick with the pen he was using to write the charges. “I suppose the Hermione-replacement thinks that an age difference of more than half a century, is perfectly all right, as long as the youngest participant is 18 rather than 16 or 17. Anyway, this whole idea of such a potion is preposterous.” He went back to scribbling angrily.

The fic dragged them back to Hogsmead, where a new mini waited.

“Yes, they have found it with Deloris. We believe it to be a Horcrux and those two dim-witted boys have asked us” Hermione indicating herself and Sarah “to look up a way to verify and if needed, destroy it. But we thought it would be better that we come to you with it.” She hands over a necklace to Draco. He examines it for a moment.

“You think this is a trollfic?” Saxo asked in a whisper. They were hiding under the bed, in a room in the inn, where the scene took place.
“What makes you say that?”
“The way that the author in the second chapter has learned to spell Blaise and Lucius, but now comes up with a just as outrageous mini.”
“I’m more concerned with the fact that Harry and Ron seem to be looking for Horcruxes while still at school and that they talk as if Dumbledore is still alive. Is this supposed to be the sixth year or seventh? Which things are changed from the books? The readers are given nothing to work with.”
Saxo shrugged. “Apparently, this is the seventh year in a setting so AU, that it couldn’t touch the Harry Potter canon with a thousand feet broomstick.”
“Nor the Labyrinth canon,” James interjected.
“I don’t know about that. I’m still not sure that the Great Chicken Uprising really is canon.”

“Thanks. This will indeed help the Dark Lord out, if the research proves to be so.”

Both agents turned again to the action in the fic.
“And why,” demanded Saxo through gritted teeth, “would the Dark Lord need to examine the necklace to tell if it’s one of his Horcuxes? For that matter, why would the Potter-boy? In the book it was painfully obvious to them all, that there was dark power in it.”
“Remember what you told me about common sense and how it applies to badfics?”
“It doesn’t.”
“Exactly,” James said.
“Where’s the Bleeprin?”

“They are so up that man’s wrinkly old ass that it looks like his butt cheeks are talking.” Sarah snaps, not shifting her gaze from out of the window.

There was a brief, stunned silence under the bed, then Saxo had to grab James.
“James!”
“Let me go! Impersonating milady! Making her use such foul language! And about Dumbledore! Let! Me! Go!”
Saxo held on to James, but felt his grip slipping. In desperation, he Apparated to the first location that crossed his mind. They landed in a small heap in the Underground, where there were enough scuffling goblins that nobody noticed two more.
“James! Calm down!”
“I will not calm down! I want to kill her! That monster, that impersonator, that corrupter, that …”
Saxo clamped his hand over his mouth. “And we will. But we have to charge her first and we have to wait for the right moment.”
James chomped down on his hand and Saxo yanked it back with a yelp.
“I will not wait for anything! I am not a coward! I will fight anyone, anywhere …”
“Merlin’s underpants, would you stop with the quoting! And it has nothing to do with cowardice. It is simply what is demanded of us. If we – or in this case you – kill her prematurely, you’ll get sacked and never get to free the world of another Sue and there are plenty out there, who are even worse.”
This seemed to get through to James. He sagged in Saxo’s grip and panted a bit, catching his breath. Finally he looked up. “I am not a coward?” he whispered.
“No, you’re not. Now please don’t ask me about your sense of smell.”
“I won’t.” James got to his feet. “We should start looking for the right moment.”
Saxo scanned the Words. “Sarah and Hermione leave the Three Broomsticks right after that scene we overheard. I suggest we get them there.”

Hermione and Sarah were walking back to Hogwarts, talking about how much they hated Harry and Ron and everyone in the Order and really liked the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. There were lots of swearing involved, so it should come as no surprise, that when the ground suddenly disappeared underneath them, they both let out a long ‘Fuuuuck!!’ as they fell.
They landed rather hard on a stone floor. It was pitch black around them.
A voice said: “Can we kill them now?” Both girls shivered at the tone of that voice.
“No,” another voice said after a rather long pause. “I suggest we go back and clean up first. I want to savour the moment.”
“Whereto then?”
“Back to Hogsmead.”
The voices disappeared, leaving the girls alone in the dark.

After taking care of all the students – something Saxo had enjoyed immensely, yelling “Obliviate!” with rather more force than was strictly speaking needed and waving his wand left, right and centre – they were back in the Underground for the final scene.

“Hogwart! Where are you? Get over here!” Jareth storms into the throne room with Tom and Snape following.

Saxo gave a wry smile. “Only decent joke in this fic. Too bad, it’s a rip-off,” he said. Then he cocked his head as he watched the action. “I think Snape just poisoned Tom, uh, I mean the Dark Lord.”
“And there’s another mini. This must be fire whiskey.”

On his way there, Snape pulls out a wizard’s photo of a young woman with a baby in her arms and a young Snape behind her with his arms around both her and the baby.
“This for you my love, and our child. One day I will have my child back Lily, that I swear to you.”

“Did he just imply that Harry is his child?” James demanded.
“Looks like it. Take some more Bleeprin.”
“No, the time for Bleeprin has passed. Now it is time for judgement.”
“Suit yourself.” Saxo downed a handful of pills, then pulled out his wand with a gleeful expression and started walking up to Jareth. The Goblin King was just standing with a vacant expression, since there was no more fic to act out.
“You’ll have to use the Neuralyzer on him,” James said.
“What? Why?”
“According to this fic, you have to get his permission to use magic in the Underground.”
“Merlin’s grey underpants,” Saxo muttered.
“You could try just asking him for permission. Sometimes that works.”
“Haha, funny.” Saxo took the Neuralyzer, pointed it at Jareth and pressed the button. “Right. You are the Goblin King, no more, no less, at least according to known canon. You don’t know anything about Harry Potter or the wizarding world. You may or may not be in love with Sarah Williams, but if you are, you don’t need anyone’s help in getting her. And there is no rule that people have to get your permission, before using magic while in the Underground.”
Jareth nodded slowly and Saxo turned back to James. “Right. Now to the Dark Lord.”

“What do you think is wrong with him?” James asked, looking at the unconscious Tom Riddle. “Do you think he needs to go to Medical?”
“Let me just think for a moment. Yes, the fic did say that Snape had some sort of laboratory here. Maybe this will do. Accio bezoar!”
A moment went by, then a small stone came flying through the air and Saxo caught it. “Trust Snape to have a well stocked laboratory wherever he goes. Trust him on nothing else, but trust him on this.” He stuffed the stone into the mouth of Tom Riddle, who after a moment opened his eyes.
“Obliviate!” Saxo yelled. “You go by the name of Lord …” He paused for a moment and willed himself to use the name. “Lord Voldemort. You are not in love with anyone, especially not a Mudblood girl. You have never heard of Sarah or Jareth or the Underground.”
He hesitated. It would be so easy, so painfully easy. All he had to do, was turn around and cast the Killing Curse on his unsuspecting partner. Then he could tell Lord Voldemort that he was one of his Death Eaters; no, better than that, his most trusted and loyal servant. He felt sure that he could deal with whoever the PPC sent after him. His wand seemed to twitch in his hand as if wanting to be wielded. He could be who he used to be.
He blinked. No, not who he used to be. His pureblood family, all the powerful dark wizards and witches who had been his ancestors, didn’t exist, had never existed outside of a badfic. What good would it do him to go back and be a Death Eater, when his lineage was as gone as ever.
Slowly, he lifted his wand and said: “You will now go back to conquering the wizarding world.” Then he stepped back nervously as the Dark Lord got up from the bed. In a minute, the daze he was in would lift and the Dark Lord would find himself in a strange place, with two unfamiliar house-elves. He would not take kindly to this. But James had acted fast and already opened a portal. “Through here, please, my Lord.” Once the portal closed behind the Dark Lord, Saxo let out a shivering breath. “Just a few more loose ends to tie up, then we get to the fun part.”

A voice rang out in the darkness, one of the voices from before. “Petrificus Totalus,” it said, then repeated the words. Both Sarah and Hermione felt themselves being paralyzed. Then the voice said: “Lumos.”
A wand lit up a small room with a skeleton lying in a corner and two irate looking goblins, no, house-elves glaring at them.
“We are from the brotherhood known as the PPC and we are here to charge you,” one of the house-elves said. It opened a small notebook and started to read from it. “Sarah, you are charged with going to Hogwarts without explanation and also with creating a timeshift by doing so; with making Jareth think that he needs help to get you and with joining the Dark Lord, even though you are by all accounts a Muggle-born yourself.” The house-elf stopped talking and handed the notebook to the other house-elf, who now proceeded to read.
“Hermione, you are charged with making the Dark Lord fall in love with you, even though you are a Mudblood and with falling in love with him in return. You are also charged with aiding and abetting him and the Death Eaters, again, even though you are a Mudblood. You are charged with making him use his old name; with claiming that Harry Potter killed your and Sarah’s parents; with still going to Hogwarts at the age of 18; with creating such extreme confusion as to time and events that calling this a AU would be like calling an Ukrainian Ironbelly a fire slug; with having only one Horcrux in the story and with creating a non-canonical potion.”
The first house-elf stepped forward again and was handed the notebook back. “You are both charged with taking part in an extremely ill-conceived and horribly executed crossover; implying that Snape had a child with Lily; with creating the mini-Aragogs slitherin, Luscious, Blaze, hogmaed, Hogsmead, Wesley, Deatheaters, Deloris and fire whiskey; with crimes against grammar – especially tenses – spelling and punctuation, that are many in number and heinous in nature and several times caused people to turn into each other or into rooms; with extreme overuse of swearing and with being not only Mary Sues, but complete and utter insults to the characters you impersonate.”
“And with annoying PPC-agents.”
“Most certainly. Your fit punishment for all these crimes is death.”
“Any last words?”
Sarah and Hermione both felt the Body Freezing Spell lift.
”But Harry Potter killed my parents!” Sarah wailed.
“And mine,” Hermione sobbed.
One of the house-elves picked up the thigh-bone from the skeleton and whacked her over the head with it. “That is no reason to join the dark side!” it bellowed. “Your parents are nothing compared to all the Mudbloods killed by the Dark Lord! Why would you want to join him!?”
The other house-elf placed a hand on his arm. “Let us just kill them and be done with it.”
The first house-elf smirked, the most evil of evil smirks, and once again said: “Petrificus Totalus.”
“And now, into the Bog of Eternal Stench goes Sues,” said the other house-elf and once again the ground disappeared beneath them, but this time they landed in something wet and soft and there was a stench, oh, the stench, the horrible stench!

“Let us go home,” James said, once he and Saxo were satisfied that the Sues were not coming up. The only drawback to using the Bog to kill people, was that you had to stand next to it while you watched them drown.

Back in RC #170, the mini-Aragogs jumped down from the backpack and scurried in all directions.
“Do not get too comfortable, “ James warned. “I’m sure at least some of you have homes you have to go back to.” He then turned and looked at Saxo. Saxo looked at him.
Finally, Saxo said: “I still hate you, of course.”
“Naturally,” James said. In truth, he was relieved to hear this.
“We are still going to fight each other, almost to death,” Saxo continued.
“I would not have it any other way.”
“As soon as I’ve had some tea. I could really use a cup after this mission.”
“I quite fancy one myself. Would you care for a game of Scrabble, while we drink our tea?”
Saxo raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I won’t mind. Just as long as everything is clear between us.”
“Perfectly clear,” James said.
“Very well then. Earl Grey or Oolong? And we have biscuits, I see.”

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The Vampire, The Ice Queen and the Wardrobe aka. Enter the Fictionary

Disclaimer: Narnia belongs to the estate of C. S. Lewis. Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. ‘The Vampire,The Ice Queen and the Wardrobe’ belongs to Jill.x, who can keep it. The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia; I’m only playing in it. Mittens, the Radioactive Moss Creature, Saxo Cruore and James Vulpes are mine. The quote about the coat is from Bum Reviews and belongs to Doug Walker.

The atmosphere in RC#170 was tenser than usual. Agent Mittens was sitting in front of the TV, playing Okami; his back rigid, as if he was prepared to turn around at any moment. Agents James Vulpes and Saxo Cruore were sitting in their beanbags, each reading a book, very carefully avoiding even glancing at each other. The RMC was playing Okamiden on its hand-held console and would occasionally look up at the three other agents, sigh inwardly, then focus on its game once more. The minis, the Prefect Badger and Aniseed, the Tulip Cat, were all playing a game of ‘let’s see who can be quietest’.

It had been somewhere around three days since their last mission. Of course, it was hard to tell, time being what it was in HQ, but James and Saxo needed to sleep and eat and that made it possible to keep track. When not sleeping and eating, they spend the most of their time getting in each other’s throats and on Mittens’ and the RMC’s nerves.

The RMC had hoped, that getting an appreciation for each other’s canons would help them bond and had therefore made James read the Harry Potter books and Saxo watch the Labyrinth. It hadn’t been a success. James had liked the Harry Potter books very much – although he was occasionally scandalised by how many rules the children in the book broke – but the more he read about the Death Eaters, the more hostile he grew towards Saxo. Saxo, on the other hand, hadn’t liked the Labyrinth at all. He complained that the depictions of various magical creatures were all wrong, the magic made no sense and he was upset that a Muggle girl had been able to defeat someone who was almost a wizard, even if the magic was senseless. He had voiced these opinions loudly in front of James. By now it was an almost constant battle for the RMC and Mittens to keep them from getting into a lethal fight.

Something had to snap and this morning something finally had. Mittens and the RMC had been up all night playing games, enjoying the silence. When the other two awoke, the RMC had been on an errand to the Canon Library and Mittens was still playing, trying to ignore what he knew was coming. And then, just as he had reached his second-favourite cutscene and had started to tear up, because it was so heartbreaking, Saxo had slammed open the door to the bathroom and in a loud voice announced that from now on, James would have to use the bathroom last, because he was sick of the drain clogging with hair. James had bristled and, as usual, had challenged Saxo to a duel. Normally, the RMC would deflate these situations, but it hadn’t been there.

Instead Mittens had turned around and told them, in a very calm voice, exactly what he would do to them if they did not stop their bickering this instant. It had been a very detailed explanation; the word ‘kneecaps’ had been used quite a lot and while some of the things sounded rather outlandish, none of them could be said to be actually impossible. It was the kind of threat that would have made Mittens’ instructor back in Hell give a curt nod of approval.

When the RMC got back, both James and Saxo were sitting very still in their beanbags. Each was holding a book, looking at the pages, but long stretches of time went on between them actually turning a page, suggesting that they were finding it difficult to concentrate. The RMC didn’t ask what had happened.

Ironically, the RMC had been in the Canon Library to get an extra copy of the first three seasons of Merlin. Since learning about each others canons hadn’t really done anything to improve the relationship between the new agents, it had thought, that maybe they could bond over a different canon. Merlin had the rulebound magic that Saxo seemed to crave, and knights and fair maidens, that James loved, so it seemed perfect. But this was a theory which would have to be tested another time.

Just as Mittens reached his very favourite cutscene, the console went BEEEEEEEEEP!! He glared at it, in a way that suggested he could think of creative things to do to electronics as well, but the console ignored his look and went on beeping. He got up, pressed the button to acknowledge the mission and started reading the report. Then he frowned.

“This has got to be a mistake. It’s a crossover between Narnia and Twilight.” He turned. “Any of you know Twilight?” he asked, rather accusingly.

Both James and Saxo quickly shook their heads.

The RMC merely looked thoughtfully. “This would explain why we were sent to get that Fictionary. The Twilight canon is so popular, that there are far more crossovers, threatening other continua, than there are agents actually versed in Twilight, who can take them on.”

Mittens rummaged around until he found the Fictionary on a shelf under a tea cosy and stuffed it in the backpack.

He checked the report again. “It’s in first person. So we’re going to need a Crash Dummy.” He rummaged around some more, looking for the dummy, which he finally found under the fridge, where Aniseed had probably batted it.

The RMC turned to the other two agents who had gotten to their feet, still avoiding looking at each other.

“I’ve heard about first person fics,” Saxo said. “All kinds of things can wrong.”

“As opposed to the fics we usually deal with, you mean?” the RMC asked mildly. “You can write the charge list.” It turned to James. “You’re in charge of the CAD. Remember to always check that it’s muted before you point it at something.”

“What should we go as?” Mittens asked, bending over the console once more. “The first chapter is in England, but it’s very brief and then she goes to Narnia.”

“In that case,” the RMC replied, “we’ll go as fauns. We’ll just keep hidden for the first part.”

“I’m not going as a half-human!” Saxo said. Mittens and the RMC turned to look at him and he looked nervous, but stubborn. “Well, I just wont.”

“Fine,” the RMC said. “No-one is forcing you to go as a half-human. Mittens, make him wholly goat.”

“Um … Eh … On second thought, being a faun sounds great.”

“How nice,” the RMC said dryly.

Mittens, allowing himself a brief smirk, set the disguises, handed everyone their weapons and opened the portal. He pulled the string on the dummy and threw it in, then the agents followed.

I walked into my room, confused about what Professor Cedric had said.

‘Don’t use the wardrobe, it’s dangerous.’

They stood in a generic room. The dummy had, rather anticlimactically, landed on the floor and was just lying there. A girl with her back to them was walking into another room, which, from what they could see of it, was equally generic.

“So she’s not a Sue,” muttered Mittens, picking up the dummy and tying it to the backpack for easy access if they needed it later.

“I would like to know,” the RMC said, while pulling out the Fictionary, “who this Professor Cedric is, since the professor from ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ was named Digory Kirke.”

“Has he been replaced with someone from Twilight?” James asked.

“Fictionary says no,” the RMC said after consulting the devise. It looked up. “I’m guessing she either got the name wrong or simply made something up. Either way, we have our first charge.”

Of course that sounded stupid. But he was a very smart man, so I figured out I could better listen to him. A voice somewhere in my head kept repeating the words in my head:

“I would love to know where else the words in her head would be repeated,” Saxo said.

“That’s one for the Department of Redundancy Department,” Mittens agreed. “Write the charge.”

Don’t use the wardrobe.. Don’t use the wardrobe.. Don’t use the wardrobe..

Both stating that the words were being repeated and actually repeating made the phrase echo. Apparently, generic walls did nothing good for the acoustics.

It was pretty scary. I came into my room and the first thing I saw was the amazing wardrobe . It was made of old, brown wood. I let my fingers slide over it, was careful that I didn’t touch something I shouldn’t touch. I’m Isabella Swan, Bella for short. I’m 15 years old and was send to my fathers friend Professor Cedric, because my parent’s couldn’t take care of me. My attention always got back to the wardrobe.

“No!” James broke in. “The wardrobe was in a completely empty room, not in anyone’s bedroom.”

“Not to mention,” the RMC said, “that the professor never warned the children about the wardrobe.”

“And,” James added, “why have the wardrobe in her room, if it is dangerous? The house is enormous; he could easily hide it somewhere and lock the door.”

“So we’re what?” Saxo asked, frowning. “In the first paragraph of the story? And already there’s a complete breakdown of canon and logic.”

“Not to mention an awful attempt at back story,” the RMC said. “Why couldn’t her parents take care of her? How does she feel about being sent here? How long has she been here? Is she American or English, because if it’s the first, I’m dying to learn why her parents thought a war-torn country was the best place for her and if it’s the latter, I really want to know why she didn’t just come here because of the War like everyone else.”

“Well, apparently she has multiple fathers,” Mittens said, pointing at the sentence in the Words. “I’m all for that, but if this takes place during the War, it must have been quite unusual.”

“Charge for ignoring canon,” the RMC said, “ignoring common sense and having a back story with more holes than your average Swiss cheese.”

“And now she’s going through the wardrobe,” James said.

When Saxo had written down the charges, Mittens opened a portal to Narnia and the RMC walked through. The other three tried to follow, but only managed to stagger and stumble. It turned out that goat legs and small cloven hooves were quite difficult to manage, when you weren’t used to them. Saxo had to grab a chair to keep himself upright. James had no such luck; he fell flat on his face and had to be helped up by Mittens. Finally, they all made it through the portal, where the RMC was waiting.

They hid behind a bush and watched Bella push her way through a cluster of trees.

Then I saw something moving in the woods. I got scared immediately, I couldn’t die!

It was moving very fast and it came closer and closer. I thought about running away, but since it moved so fast, I decided that I better could stay and welcomed the dead in my arms.

The RMC lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of its nose. “So. Much. Wrong,” it said, in a pained voice. Mittens started to look in the backpack for Bleeprin.

“Her reaction makes no sense,” James said. “She gets scared, but rather than running away or trying to find her way back to the house, she just decides that it is not worth the bother, gives up and waits for certain death.”

“Not death,” Mittens said, stopping his search for a moment to point, “’the dead’, see? Clearly she thinks it’s a zombie running towards her.”

“Zombies can’t run,” Saxo said.

Mittens pulled out the bottle with a triumphant smile, then shrugged. “Must be one of those modern zombies. But yes, James, we have a charge for having an nonsensical reaction to danger. Also, for serious crimes against the English language.”

Don’t use the wardrobe.. Don’t use the wardrobe..

I used it as some kind of mantra , I kept saying it all over again..

“And we’re back at the redundancy,” Mittens said, handing out pills.

“She seems to have all the time in the world to think and speak,” Saxo said, “why doesn’t she try to do something useful?”

“Typical bad storytelling,” the RMC said with a shrug. “She wants a scene where she doesn’t have time to run away and where she is chanting the phrase, but she doesn’t realize that having that much time makes the first part ridiculous. Many badfics have moments like this, where a character try to both have the cake and eat it. It’s a charge for bad writing.”

‘Hello.’ I screamed.

I was too scared to turn and face the beautiful face, so I just kept sobbing.

Everything slowed down as the Word World tried to decide how to interpret this. Finally, with a small ‘plop’, Bella grew eyes in the back of her head so she could look at a beautiful face floating right behind her, without having to turn around.

For a second all four agents stood frozen, then they all turned away. Saxo was looking slightly green and had his hand over his mouth.

“This,” the RMC said, “calls for more Bleeprin.”

The floating face turned into Edward from Twilight who started talking to Bella.

‘Listen up, girl. I’ll tell you my story when we’re at my home; MOVE!’ he took my hand and lead me to his house. It was freezing cold and I couldn’t feel my entire body. He lead me into a little, stone house somewhere in the mountains. He gave me one of his shirts, so I could warm up.

“I forgot to bring a coat to the mountains once. No wait, I didn’t. Because even I know to bring a coat to the mountains and I’m a bum!” Mittens quoted. Saxo and James eyed him wearily, but the RMC sniggered,

“Charge for squatting in Mr. Tumnus’ house. We’ll portal after them so we don’t have to wade through the snow,” it said.

They portalled to right outside the small house and peeked through the windows. Edward was giving Bella his back story.

‘Well, I’m Edward Masen and I’m 17 years old. I came here with my brother and sister , a long time ago, when we were playing in the wardrobe of the our father..’

Mittens tilted his head. “Unless he’s claiming to be the non-canonical son on of the professor, the wardrobe has never been his father’s.”

A few years since we came here, my brother Emmett fell in love with the Ice Queen, me and Alice ,my sister, were mad at him, so we tried to talk to him. The Ice Queen, Rosalie, Didn’t like that, so she doomed us. And we’re frozen in our 17 years old body forever. We’re just like other creatures, we mean nothing to her. They call us here vampires, although we don’t drink blood. It’s weird, I know. And for your information, you’re in Narnia.

The RMC scratched its head as it checked the Fictionary. “This is all wrong. Emmett and Alice are his adopted siblings, but if he has been adopted by now, why didn’t he introduce himself as Cullen? And Rosalie is not the Ice Queen – and do charge for calling her that, rather than the White Witch – or even a native of Narnia; she’s his adopted sister as well. This isn’t following Twilight canon either, it’s just using random bits and pieces and replacing the rest. Charge for messing up both canons.”

“And what did commas ever do to this fic?” Mittens wondered aloud. “Charge for that.”
“I think there’s a new chapter,” James said and pointed at the Words coming up. “And an author’s note.”

They all covered their ears.

Hi Everybody ! Here’s chapter two in Edward’s POV. Thanks for reading my story, it means a lot to me. Anyways, I DON’T OWN TWILIGHT OR THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA !

Thanks xx

Previous:

Edward: ‘Now tell me your story..’

“A disclaimer,” Saxo said, when it was safe to remove their hands. “Better late than never I suppose.”

‘I..I’m Isabella Swan. Swan, I mean, Bella for short. I’m from England and I’m 15. I was at the home from Professor Cedric, when I saw the wardrobe he had been talking about. I was curious and took a look. And now I’m here. I was send to the Prof because my parents couldn’t take care of me. I don’t know where I belong, I’ve never been someone who fitted somewhere. I don’t know why I’m here, Cedric told me I shouldn’t use the wardrobe! But I was curious and..and..and yes. I hope I’m now where I belong. Although it looks a bit weird here. And Narnia, I’ve never heard about that before.. Is it some kind of magical land?’

The agents just stared for a moment.

Then the RMC said briskly: “Right. Charges. We already have a charge for redundancy, which would make it redundant to charge for repeating her back story. Charge for having a extremely underwhelmed reaction to being in another world and for talking about her feelings with a complete stranger. Also charge for having vampires who don’t even drink blood, when that is their single most important defining characteristic. Even Twilight didn’t completely take that away from them.”

In the fic, Edward was now elaborating on his backstory.

‘It was a cold night in Villa Phoenix, in the middle of a valley in England. Alice, Emmett and me were playing in my dad’s work office. He told us not to use the wardrobe, but we were curious. So we got in the wardrobe and entered the Unknow Land.

“Where all Sues hail from,” Saxo said.

We had to hide us, and had to fight everyday for our lives.

“I imagine them taking turns to hide each other in small jars on the top shelves,” Mittens said.

One day, Emmett met the Ice Queen , Rosalie. At first she looked kind, and Emmett fell in love with her. They married soon after that. Rosalie was angry with me and Alice because we didn’t like their marriage. She turned us into vampires.

“Proving them right, then,” James said.

Since that day, the beautiful land of Aslan, king and protector of Narnia (may he live forever) ,

“Presumably he is immortal, so I doubt he needs your good wishes,” the RMC said, crossing its arms over its chest. It was cold up here, fauns apparently did not use sweaters and it hoped that this scene wouldn’t take much longer.

“Hey, we should do an MST some time,” Mittens said. “This is starting to sound like one.”

That day, the Ice Queen promised that she’ll turn every human who comes here into a tree.

“Since Bella is human,” Saxo said, “she should just make like a tree and leave.”

The three other agents groaned.

“Well, I suppose there’s no MSTs without really bad jokes,” the RMC said.

Everyone lived happy together. The Animals could talk and the dwarfs walked in the woods, singing every song they knew.

“Somehow, I just don’t see the Narnian dwarves doing the whole Snow White ‘Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho’ thing,” Mittens said.

The fauns had a campfire every Tuesday night.

This was followed by complete silence on the agents’ part, since this was simply too random for them to think of anything to say.

We had 2 kings and two queens, the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eva. They were called Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy. They died a few years ago. Than the Ice Queen saw her chance and attacked Narnia again. Since then, we all are doomed to have a sad life.

“They died, did they? Can’t even get that detail right,” the RMC muttered.

“’Doomed to have a sad life’,” Saxo repeated, through chattering teeth. “The PPC should use that phrase in their next recruitment campaign.” He and James were also starting to look like they were freezing badly, but they were eyeing each other and both of them refused to rub their chests or in any other way acknowledge the cold.

But Aslan told us the day that Queen Rosalie turned the world into ice, that there would come a young girl, who would become the wife of a Doomed Person.

“That means I get to sing the Doom Song,” Mitten said enthusiastically. “Doom doom doom doomy doom doom!”

I was absolutely sure that she was the girl. I felt some weird connection with here, so I think I’m the doomed person , like Aslan called him.

“That’s a rather circular logic,” James said. “It would seem that he thinks he is the doomed person because he feels something for her, but that is also the only reason why he thinks she is the girl.”

“You’re right,” Mittens said. “Charge for circular logic.”

‘Listen Bella, I know you are the girl. And I know that I’m the doomed person. I know it sounds weird, but we have to marry soon. Only together we will be strong enough to lead a war and to save Narnia.’

“He got awfully sure in a very short time,” Saxo commented.

“I have to admit, as pick-up-lines go, that one is rather novel,” the RMC said.

‘I’m almost positive that Aslan’ll turn you into a Mythical Creature, so that you’ll be strong enough.

“Mittens,” the RMC said, its eye twitching, “could we have some more Bleeprin, please?”

In the fic, Bella suddenly grew wings.

She had wings growing on her back, and became more beautiful than everything I’ve ever seen. She was an elf, just like my sister. But you could see she was very powerful. The fire in her eyes was like nothing I had ever seen before.

‘What the heck?’

‘You’re an elf. Told you Aslan would change you into something else. Now all we have to do is marrying, and I’m sorry about that. I know it sounds weird, because you don’t even know me.’ I told her shy.

“I think,” Mittens said slowly, “we are long overdue for a reading.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” James said and fumbled with the CAD. He pointed it at Bella.

[Bella Swan. Canon/uncanon/canon/Sue/Canon/Uncanon/Sue]

The others looked over his shoulder to see the read-out.

“I think,” the RMC said, “she might be the real Bella Swan. The CAD is not designed to get readings on Canon Sues and furthermore she is a stranger to this continuum.” It checked the Fictionary. “Of course, suddenly finding herself in the middle of a supernatural war and being turned into a sparkly creature is very much in character for her. There’s just rather more glitter and bad storytelling heaped on top of her.”

James nodded, although he did not look entirely convinced and pointed the CAD at Edward. There was a very loud and very shrill BEEEEEEEEEP!! Mittens yanked it out of his hands and turned it off.

“You have to check that it’s muted,” he said, as he gave it back to James.

“I did!” James objected.

“You have to check every time,” Mittens said. “This means, between uses as well.”

James growled at Saxo, who was grinning widely, then looked at the display.

[Edward Masen/Cullen/Masen. ??? Canon/uncanon/canon/Stu/Canon/Uncanon/Stu. Twilight? Ohgodnottwilight!]

“It’s the same,” he said. “Does that mean that he is the real Edward as well?”

“It would seem so,” the RMC said. “But we’ll have to bring them to the Twilight continuum and get a new reading on them there, to be absolutely sure.”

We were training hard, but still not hard enough. My sister helped us with finding other creatures, but all we had by now were 12 werewolves, 13 vampires, 25 dwarfs, 3 elves (including Bella and Alice) , 5 ice bears and 2 wildcats.

“I thought he said that both he and Alice were vampires,” James said. “And who are the other vampires?”

“Don’t know, but we’ll have to think of what to do with them,” the RMC said. “There are no vampires in Narnia. Nor Elves for that matter not that, that ever stopped a fanficcer who wanted to include them. Charge for that and for leaving out most of the mythological creatures who actually did fight on Aslan’s side the last time, such as dragons and unicorns.”

“Hey,” James said, “is that an autho…”

Thank you for reading!

I don’t know yet how I will describe the fight. If you have suggestions, let me know it!

And I’m sorry for my horrible grammar!

Xxx Jill

CLICK THE GREEN BUTTON

Here’s the next chapter!

Don’t forget to review

The songs for this chapter are:

-A Change in me, Beauty and the beast

-The battle (instrumental), The chronicles of Narnia

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Twilight or The Chronicles Of Narnia.

Jill.

“Charge for apologizing for her horrible grammar, rather than actually doing something about it,” the RMC said.

QUEEN ROSALIE POV

‘Dwarf 223! Get your little ass over here!’ I screamed. It was Monday, 25th of Jinfire(AN: That’s one of the months of Narnia, it’s the same as June)

The dummy flew through the air and Mittens, who was wearing the backpack, was yanked sideways. Then the string holding the dummy broke and it stood on the floor and started yelling after a dwarf.
“I think we have our Sue,” James said.
“No kidding, Sherlock,” Mittens said. He shot a nervous look downwards. The complete and utter lack of setting meant that they were all standing on a floor so generic and undefined, that it was rather foggy and not nearly solid enough to support them. They were slowly sinking into it and Mittens doubted that there was anything underneath.
“Charge for making up the names of months in Narnia,” the RMC said. “Then make an additional charge for keeping the names of the days of the week. And Mittens, some more Bleeprin if you would be so kind.”

In the fic, the dwarf gave a brief recap of what they had already seen.

I was shocked.

‘So the girl finally arrived?’

‘Yes Mrs Rosalie, she did.’

Saxo groaned. “I have no words for how stupid this is.”

“This is how she chooses to replace the White Witch?” the RMC said. “A screaming … harpy, with a foul mouth and nothing resembling dignity or cleverness? Charge for it!”

‘What was the Vampire’s name?’ I wondered who it was, there weren’t too many outta here..

‘I think it was Edward Masen, Mrs Rosalie.’ I screamed. Emmett’s brother. I couldn’t kill him, Emmett won’t be happy about that. Did I have another choice?

No.

Let’s go kill some Vampires, and their stupid little friends.

The RMC frowned and checked the Fictionary once again. “This seems off, and not just because she apparently asked a question and then screamed the answer herself. According to this, Rosalie is extremely self-centered, but loyal to family and friends. She shouldn’t be so quick to kill Emmett’s brother. Nor to have turned them into vampires to begin with. James, would you get a reading on her?”

James pointed the CAD at the Ice Queen and pressed the button. For a few moments nothing happened. Then the CAD started vibrating.

“I think you should drop it,” Mittens began, but then there was a small ‘bing’ and the screen lit up with a reading.

[Mrs Rosalie aka. The Ice Queen. Species undetermined. Uncanon. Sue. Kill it! Killitwithfire!]

“And here I was, almost thinking that we wouldn’t get to kill anything,” Saxo said with a gleeful smirk.

“Charge for being a Sue and for bashing Rosalie as well as the White Witch,” the RMC said.

BELLA POV

It was a long night on Gindra (same as July here) the 25th.

The RMC glared at her. “I wish she would stop making up names of months,” it said, annoyed.
Mittens just sighed in relief. The words mentioned Bella sitting on a rock, which had been enough to conjure up a mountainside as a setting.

Ever since I was young , I wrote music. I had an amazing voice, they always told me. I decided to write a song (A/N: Now listen to A change in me- Beauty and the Beast)

There’s been a change in me
A kind of moving on
Though what I used to be
I still depend on

As the whole song played out, Mittens banged his head against a rock. When the singing stopped, he swallowed a handful of Bleeprin and said: “Charge for using a whole copyrighted song. I believe that it is against the rules of the Pit, but it’s also plain annoying.”

“Also charge for Sue-singing,” the RMC said, consulting the Fictionary. “There’s nothing about Bella Swan having an amazing voice or writing music.”

There was a minor shift in time and space, even though there was no reason to.

(In the evening, on the campfire)

Bella and Edward were now sitting in the middle of the fire. Their clothes were burning away, but neither seemed to notice.
The agents stared at them, dumbstruck, for a moment, before the RMC found its voice. “Charge for this. And Mittens, another round of Bleeprin, if you please.”

It was to give Narnia his original proud and beauty back, to give all of the habitants a perfect, long and happy life. I knew it was going to be hard, but I was sure that we could do it. After all , how strong could that little Ice Queen be?

Mittens shuddered. “I have a hard time believing that anyone, who could think like that, is a canon character.”

“Well, she is Suefied,” the RMC said, “but she’s also a Sue to begin with. This is her good and caring traits being warped to the extreme.”

And I promise that if we win the fight, we will go and rebuild Cair Paraval, and have the most perfect life you want.

Mittens pointed eagerly. “Oh! Mini! Mini-something! Mini-Dragon?”

“A mini-Dragon, yes,” the RMC said. “It must be Paraval.”

Mittens picked the mini up and placed it in the backpack.

Edward and Bella kissed and then Aslan showed up.

‘That’s great news. And kids, the energy you both felt trough your body, was the energy of love. It’s the most powerful thing.

“I think I know what this is,” the RMC said, “but get a reading just to be sure.”

James checked that the CAD was muted, then pointed it at the great lion.

[Tashlan. Character replacement. Terminate with extreme prejudice.]

The RMC grimaced at this. “Being right is much less fun than it ought to be.”

‘You.. You brought soldiers for us?’ I asked.

‘Indeed, Bella. I brought 25 wildcats, 12 ice bears, 45 dwarfs, 123 centaurs , 256 elves, 56 fauns, 5 giants and a lot of horses. I’ve trained them ,too.

“What are we supposed to do with 256 non-canonical Elves?” Saxo asked.

“Winged Elves,” the RMC corrected, rubbing its forehead. “Which means that we can’t just send them to Generic Fantasy Land or WOW or any other place I can think of. We’ll have to deal with them later. Anyway, I’ve checked the Words and Tashlan doesn’t show up again, so we’ll take care of him now. Mittens, any ideas as to how we kill him?”

“I have one,” Mittens said. “I’ll use the Remote Activator.”

“Very well,” the RMC said. “Saxo, do you know which charges are for Tashlan?”

“Yes. There’s only a few, since we pin the rest on Rosalie.”

“Exactly. I think you should read the charges.”

Saxo smirked. “Watch and learn, Fox,” he said and strode towards the great lion.

“Tashlan, as agents of the PPC …” The huge lion roared and jumped him. He just had time to throw himself flat on the ground.

“Is this something I should learn?” James yelled in a innocent tone. “Should I be taking notes? Will there be a test?”

“Stop kidding around,” Mittens said, his finger poised over the button on the RA, “and just read the charges.”

Saxo was getting up and didn’t seem to be paying attention. His gaze was fixed on the lion and he drew his sword. The lion growled and started to circle him, looking for an opening. Saxo ventured a glance in the notebook, he still held in his left hand, and said: “You are charged with being a character replacement, with turning Bella into an Elf and with bringing 256 non-canonical Elves into this fic.” The lion roared and positioned itself to jump once more. “For this, you are sentenced to die!” Saxo yelled.

The lion jumped at him, but Mittens pressed the button on the RA and the roar turned into something like a bellow of surprise as it soared through a portal. “I believe that was my cue,” Mittens said.

“Weren’t the timing all off with that joke?” Saxo asked, sheathing his sword.

Mittens shrugged. “If you prefer, next time I can snark first and get rid of the lion afterwards.”

“Let’s go check that it doesn’t get away,” the RMC said.
On the other side of the portal, a battle between two white lions were raging. But while the lions were the same size and build, this was in no way an even fight. In fact, if Mittens should compare it to anything, he would say it was like watching a Smurf being thrown before a tiger.

With a last howl which was cut short, one of the lions feel to the ground, dead. The other turned to the agents.

“The Protectors,” it said, its voice deep and powerful, but with an undertone of mirth.

Mittens looked down at his feet, or in this case, hooves. “I … I hope you’re not angry I dumped that other lion on you,” he said. “It was kind of going to eat Saxo and …” He scraped the ground with his hooves.

“I am always pleased to meet your kind, even if the reasons for your visits are regrettable,” Aslan replied. “And I do not mind helping you with the challenges you cannot face on your own.” The mirth became even more pronounced. “Now, you should take care of the so-called Ice Queen. Whatever the differences between me and the White Witch, I do not like to see her impersonated by something like that.”

Mittens looked relived. “Will do, “ he said and started fiddling with the RA again. The agents all bowed before Aslan and went though the portal, which deposited them back where they had left the story.

“Author’s note coming up,” James warned and they covered their ears.

So, that was chapter three! It’s way better if you listen to the songs 😀

I want at least 3 reviews before I update again, they make me happy!

Click the green button !

Xx

Jill.

“Is holding your own story hostage for reviews a char…” Saxo began, but was interrupted by another author’s note in the beginning of the next chapter.

4. Authors NoteI’m Sorry

Hey Guys!

I’m so sorry I didn’t update for what seems a thousand years!

And I have to disappoint you , I’m not going to update for the next 2 or 3 weeks..

That’s because my exams are starting next week, and so I’m really busy with studying..

I hate it.

And than again, I’m so so so so sooooooooooooo sorry !

I promise that my next chapter is going to be the best.. I hope.

Sorry Again.

Jill.

“She had a whole chapter consisting of an author’s note, explaining why she hadn’t updated?” James began. “How is that even …”

But suddenly there was another chapter and yet another author’s note bellowed over them.

5. An TwilightNight

First off all, guys, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I’m a little done with this story. I will continue this, and I already know how. You will get to choose between a good ending and a sad ending. I’m writing another story now, Alice In Wonderland. Read it ,please. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to update this story for a while. Please forgive me!

Jill

6: The Plan

Here’s the new chapter,

But I need more reviews to motivate me, because I’m kinda tired of this story..

So Review please , it would make me happy.

Jill

“I think there’s a real chapter now,” Mittens said, carefully lowering his hands and looking at Edward who was giving orders to the army.

“Unbelievable,” the RMC said. “The stupid fic has two chapters consisting of nothing but author’s notes, begging for reviews and bad excuses. And she is going after Alice in Wonderland next.” It nodded its thanks as it took the Bleeprin Mittens handed it. “Charge for the last two chapters.” It got a distant look as it scanned the text ahead of them. “This is the last chapter. We just need to find a good moment and then I think we can wrap this up.”

“How do with kill her?” Mittens asked.

“I say we follow the CAD’s suggestion and use fire,” the RMC said.

“That was an actual suggestion? I thought it was just a figure of speech.”

“Speaking of speech, Edward is giving one,” Saxo said.

But if we’re in the fight, you are going to fight not for yourself, but for Narnia. Choose someone of your own length, and don’t think we’re better than them, because we’re not. Knowing Queen Rosalie, she has made the best army. Don’t forget that we do this for your wives or husbands. If we win this fight, we’re going to be happy and die happy when we’re old and gray. If we loose, than there’s a big chance that we all are going to be a slave of Queen Rosalie. Do we want that?’ Edward asked.

‘No! We Don’t want to be slaves of stupid Queen Rosalie!’ They all screamed.

“Yeah, that’s right up the with ‘There may come a day, where the courage of man fails’,” the RMC said acidly.

“Is there a volcano or something in Narnia we can dump her in?” Mittens asked. “Otherwise I’m not sure how we are going to get fire enough to …” He was interrupted by the sound of something scratching on the inside of his backpack. Mittens opened it and Paraval peeked out, the blew a rather impressive flame, almost as long as the small dragon itself.

“It wants to help,” James said. “Good mini-Dragon.”

Mittens hesitated for a moment, but the RMC nodded its approval, so he started giving Paraval instructions, at least half of which were some variation of ‘be careful and don’t get hurt’. He then placed the mini-Dragon on his shoulder.

In the fic Rosalie showed up with her army and Emmett. Edward told Emmett that Rosalie didn’t love him and had only married him to get revenge on Edward and Alice. For some reason Emmett believed him at once and started yelling at Rosalie, calling her the worst names in the book. Rosalie tried to persuade Emmett back, but then Alice and Bella changed.

I growled and felt Bella and Alice changing next to me. Suddenly, they were in the air with their big, beautiful wings spread out wide. Bella’s wings were a passionate red colour with some blue accents, while Alice’s were red and pink accents. They both looked beautiful.

“Okay,” the RMC said. “Text says he is distracted by this. Everyone else probably is as well. I say we take care of Rosalie now.”

Mittens nodded briefly, while pressing buttons on the RA. A portal opened underneath Rosalie and she fell through. The agents quickly jumped in after her.

The Ice Queen was getting up from the ground, looking furious. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Are you some more of the stupid little friends of the vampires?”

“No,” Mittens said. “We are something much worse. Saxo, charge list please.”

Eyeing the Ice Queen wearily, Saxo opened the notebook and started reading. The Ice Queen however, made no move to attack, but simply glared at him, perhaps waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Rosalie aka. the Ice Queen, with the power vested in us as PPC-agents, we charge you with the following crimes: Getting the name of the Professor utterly wrong; multiple cases of redundancy; ignoring and messing with the canons of both Twilight and Narnia; ignoring common sense; giving Bella a stupid back story, multiple fathers and a nonsensical reaction to danger; severe cruelty towards the English language, especially the common comma; having no sense of timing; making Edward squat in Mr. Tumnus’ home; calling yourself the Ice Queen; making Bella be underwhelmed at being in Narnia and talk about her feelings with a complete stranger; having vampires who don’t drink blood; making Edward employ circular logic; having Elves and vampires in Narnia, while at the same time ignoring most of the other interesting creatures who should have been there; apologising for your horrible grammar rather than fixing it; inventing new names of months, but keeping the names of the days; copying a whole song; placing two characters in the middle of a fire; having two chapters consisting of author’s notes and excuses; calling yourself the Ice Queen; being an extremely poor replacement for Jadis, bashing Rosalie and being a Mary Sue. Your punishment is death.”

“What nonsense is this?” Rosalie demanded. Then she screamed. Mittens had sneaked up behind her and planted his knives in her back.

“Now!” he yelled and as Rosalie whirled around to face him, Paraval swooped in and breathed flames right in her face. She stood for a moment, then she collapsed in a burning heap.

“Swooping is not always bad,” the RMC commented sagely, as Paraval flew back and landed on the arm of Mittens, who called him a good mini-Dragon and made promises about rather large amounts of bacon.

“How come she was so easy to charge?” Saxo asked. “Tashlan attacked me, but she just stood there.”

“Tashlan is in the rare position of being a canon character-replacement,” the RMC replied. “As such he has faced PPC-agents before and know what we are. Anyway, we should get the neuralyzing over with and clean up the mess left behind.”

However, when they returned to the battlefield, most of the armies were missing. It seemed that all the non-canonical beings had simply gone, now that there was nothing keeping them in the story. The RMC took out the Neuralyzer.

“Look here, please,” it said and everyone turned towards it. The agents closed their eyes as it pressed the button. “Okay, everyone who is not a vampire or an Elf, you don’t know what either of those things are. The White Witch was defeated years ago and this is not a permanent winter, but an perfectly ordinary one. You’ve all had a rather confusing daydream and now you will all go home and forget about it.”

Mittens opened a portal back to the Twilight canon and they went through it, dragging the confused-looking Bella, Edward, Alice and Emmett with them. James got new readings on them, which confirmed them as the real characters.

“Right,” the RMC said. “Bella, you have never met Edward and won’t for some years to come. You have never been turned into an Elf,” it looked with mild distaste at the sparkly wings on her back, “or a fairy.” The wings faded away. “Also, you have never lived in England because your parents couldn’t take care of you and you do not have multiple fathers. You live in Phoenix, Arizona. Now walk through here, please.” It gestured towards the portal and Bella walked through.

After modifying the memories of the rest of the characters and sending them on their ways, they could finally go back to RC#170.

Saxo lowered himself into one of the beanbags. “That was awful,” he groaned. James did the same and nodded in agreement. Then they both lifted their heads and looked at each other for a moment.

Neither Mittens nor the RMC dared to breath, fearful of interrupting. Then Saxo got up and James abruptly turned his back to him.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Saxo said. “I feel dirty.” He went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A moment later he opened the door. “The drain is still completely clogged with hair. There’s water all over the floor!”

James growled an insult in return and drew his baton.

Mittens and the RMC sighed. Paraval watched in mild puzzlement from his new place on top of the bookshelf, where he was happily tearing into a large piece of bacon.

The there was a loud ‘BEEEEEEEEPPPPP!!’

Mittens got up. “Seems everyone will have to wait with the showers.”

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Through Anothers Eyes aka. Enter the Newbies

Author’s notes: This mission was started in early December in very good time for Christmas. Then real life happened. (Yes, acquiring Skyrim totally counts as ‘real life happened’. Now hush.)
It is a bit long … Hey, wait! Come back! It’s not that long. Really, the only reason I mention it, is because I wanted to do some short missions to get the average length down. But this fic had a lot more things wrong with it, than I first thought, and I couldn’t just ignore all of them.
In the mission, I have some limitations on what can and cannot be done. These are not necessarily correct, but rather, they reflect what my agents think they know. For example, it is quite possibly that the Cad has a ‘home in on fellow agents’ button, but if that is the case, my agents haven’t found it.
The CAD MK-48 is a nod to the CAD MK-47 found in Aster Corbett’s Dragon Age mission.
The name Saxo Cruore is a Google translation from English to Latin of the bit’s former last name. I found the translation extremely dubious and haven’t been able to verify it using any kind of dictionary. However, the name Saxo have a special meaning for Danes, so I decided to keep it.
<Serious Business> Trigger warning: The sporked fic deals with severe child abuse and does so badly. It is rated T.</Serious Business>
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. The movie version belongs to Peter Jackson. The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia; I’m only playing in it. The Fellowship Mantra belongs to Elrond, but was brought to us by Miss Sandman. Through Anothers Eyes belongs to INHM, who can keep it. Mittens, the Radioactive Moss Creature, James Vulpes and Saxo Cruore are mine.
————————————————————————————————————————-
RC #170 was the very image of holiday cheer, as filtered through the PPC HQ. The agents had been on a rare excursion to their home continuum’s version of the real word, where they had discovered, that their meagre salaries could buy them not only presents, but also a not insignificant amount of Christmas stuff.
Mittens had finished decorating the tree and was now for the umpteenth time taking an ornament from Aniseed, who kept pulling them down and batting them around. Under the tree were packages from various friends; the biggest one was shaped like a tea-pot and had a tag reading ‘To Mittens from Joss and Izumi’. In the background, the Cambridge Singers’ Angels’ Carol was playing and the young devil was tunelessly humming along, not really paying attention to the lyrics and therefore oblivious to the irony.
The console beeped, but it was a rather subdued sound and not the shrill BEEEEP! of a new mission. Mittens hung the paper star back on the tree and went to look.
“It’s a message,” he said.
The RMC was keeping an eye on the chestnuts roasting on an open fire, which was provided by the mini-Balrog, Riverdendell. “What does it say?” it asked, selected another letter from a small pile and started chewing on it. There had been some kind of attack on the PPC a little while ago; the attacker had spewed random letters and numbers everywhere and they had found their way to the RMC.
“’Since you were so eager to show the new recruits the ropes, you can continue to do so.’ Signed, the Marquis de Sod.”
The RMC started taking the chestnuts off the mini-Balrog. “I fuppofe it waf to be efpected that …”
It was interrupted by a knock on the door which Mittens went to answer. Outside stood the Death Eater the agents had recruited.
“Um. Hello, Fi…” Mittens began, but was interrupted when the former badfic-bit raised a hand.
“That,” he said, “is no longer my name. I am now called Saxo Cruore.”
“Okay,” Mittens said. “Why don’t you come on in. It seems that we are supposed to train you or something.”
Saxo stepped inside and let his gaze glide over the interior of the Response Centre which, although neat and tidy and festively decked, was rather cramped. The RC had grown in size a couple of times to accommodate the ridiculous amount of minis the agents had collected, but it had refused to budge an inch to give room to their newly acquired weapons collection. His face got a look of disapproval. “I was merely told to go here and … Merlin! What is that thing!?” He looked at the RMC, shocked.
The next thing he knew, he was flat against the wall, not quite sure whether he had actually passed though any space in between, and Mittens had his hands around his throat.
“Listen and listen carefully,” Mittens said. “You’re a new agent so I’m going to give you a pass, but if I ever and I mean ever,” to emphasise his point, he lifted Saxo a bit, so that he had to stand on his toes, then lowered him again, “hear you utter a single word that is, no, that could in any way be interpreted as disrespectful to my esteemed colleague, I am going to kill you. Do you understand?” His voice sounded oddly flat in contrast to the words. He wasn’t threatening as much as he was simply pointing out the consequences of a certain action.
Saxo managed a nod and Mittens let him go.
“And now,” he said, sounding almost cheerful, “I would like to introduce you to the Radioactive Moss Creature, my partner.”
Saxo tried to say something, but managed only a half choked sound.
There was another knock on the door and Mittens once again went to open it. Outside stood an anthropomorphic fox and, next to it, a sheepdog. Mittens looked surprised for a moment, but then he smiled. “James Vulpes.” He looked at the dog. “And Cabal.”
“Greetings,” the fox said in his squeaky voice and gave a flourishing bow. “I have been sent here by my new lieges. I was told, I should meet my new brother in arms here.”
There was a new half-choked sound from Saxo and then he said: “I’m being teamed up with a fox?”
James looked at him, narrowed his eyes and gave a low threatening growl. Mittens crossed his arms, but didn’t move otherwise. If Saxo and James were meant to be partners, the fox needed to be able to handle this himself.
The RMC looked from one new agent to the other. “Well,” it said, “now that you’re both here, why don’t you come inside, so you can get acquainted. We have chestnuts and I’m sure Mittens will be happy to make some tea and …”
BEEEEEEEP!!!
James and Saxo both covered their ears with their hands. Cabal laid down and tried to do the same with its paws. Mittens moved over to the console and hit the button.
“It’s a mission,” he explained. “I guess we’re supposed to take you with us.”
“A quest!” James said. “Finally!”
Mittens read the Intelligence Report and frowned. “It’s a Tenth Walker,” he said.
“Huh,” the RMC said. “I’m actually a bit surprised we’re getting it. There are so many other agents more versed in that canon. Then again, it is flooded with badfic and they need all the agents they can get.”
“According to this, the Sue is eight years old.”
“Eight years?” the RMC repeated. “That has be a typo; they must have meant eighteen.”
“I guess.” Mittens shrugged and turned towards the two newbies, who were eyeing each other with what he hoped was only disdain, but which was probably open hostility. “Do you know The Lord of the Rings?” he asked.
“I have begun reading the books by the honourable Yarr Tolkien, but I regret to say, I have not yet made it all the way through,” James replied.
Mittens blinked. “Just so you know it, it’s pronounced ‘J. R. R.’,” he said. “It’s his initials.”
“Oh, I did think it was an odd name.”
Saxo looked like he was about to say something, but Mittens shot him a warning glance, so he just smirked instead.
“And you,” Mittens asked. “Do you know the books?”
“No. They gave me them, but I only read the first two chapters and then I had to stop. The books are awfully dull, the magic makes no sense and the wizard is completely devoid of dignity; the way he uses his powers as entertainment for Muggles.”
“Um, fair enough, I guess. You’re entitled to your opinion, though I wouldn’t be too vocal about it.”
“How about training? Have you received any?” the RMC asked.
The new agents both looked at it blankly.
“Well,” James said, finally, “I received a leather bound book detailing the quests of two agents named Jay and Acacia.”
Saxo nodded at this.
“So, no training, but at least you know what we’re supposed to be doing,” the RMC said. “Better get to it then. Mittens, would you get weapons for them? I suggest we go as Uruk-hai.”
“Of course. Um, can I bring the crossbow?”
“They are used in the movie, but it’s debatable whether crossbows are really canon in Lord of the Rings. Better not take it.”
Mittens looked at the crossbow, slightly disappointed. It was sitting on a shelf all ready, the wood shining from oil, but, outside of the mission he picked it up in, he had not had a chance to use it. He turned to the weapons collection. “What are your experience with weapons?” he asked.
“I have my trusty baton,” James replied and waved it in the air.
“You’ll be much bigger as an Uruk-hai,” Mittens said. He looked over the collection. “Ah, here.” He picked a club and handed it to James. It was almost as big as the small fox-person. “You’ll grow into it,” he said.
Saxo smirked again. Mittens turned towards him. “And you?” he asked.
“I’ll use my magic.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” the RMC said. “There’s enough Potterverse magic in Middle-earth from brainless crossovers, without us adding to it. Choose a weapon.”
Grumbling, Saxo asked for a sword and Mittens picked out a simple broadsword. As for himself he went with his two trusty knifes and the RMC had a sword as well.
“Now, for this first mission,” the RMC said, “you will simply observe me and my partner. Although I suppose that you, James, can write the charge list.” Mittens handed a standard issue pen and a notebook to the fox. The RMC continued: “And now, Mittens, if you would set the disguises and the portal, please.”
Mittens hoisted the backpack and bent over the console. A moment later the portal appeared and he and the RMC jumped through it, followed by their new trainees. The portal closed behind them and back in RC# 170, Cabal decided that now would be a good time for a nap and curled up on Mittens’ beanbag.

They were in prefic darkness and the Author’s Note boomed.

I don’t own ANYTHING in this story. NOTHING. NADA. ZIP. Okay? I don’t even own Laurie. I got her and her back round story from Willo Davis Roberts. Therefore, I still own nothing. Enjoy.

“Who?” Mittens asked, when it was safe to remove one’s hands from one’s ears.
“I have no idea,” the RMC replied. “We could be dealing with a crossover, but the Intelligence Report didn’t mention anything like that.”
Mittens bit his lip, which turned out to be a bad idea, seeing as he now had much sharper teeth than he was used to. If this mission was going to get weird and complicated, he would much have preferred to not have the newbies with them; which was probably Upstairs’ plan. 

The darkness lifted and the four agents found themselves in a kitchen. They heard loud voices coming from another room and carefully peeked through the door. In a nondescript hallway a woman was hitting a puppy with a broomstick and a little girl was screaming at her to stop. There was also a small boy; Tim, according to the words.
“So that is the Sue?” James whispered.
“I think so. It would also seem, that she really is only eight years old,” the RMC whispered back.

The woman’s name was Annabelle, and she was Laurie’s mother. Laurie never called Annabelle “mother” but never called her “Annabelle” either. She had picked up the habit of calling Annabelle “Annabelle” when Annabelle had married her second husband. His kids, Laurie’s step brother and sister, had called her “Annabelle”, so Laurie thought of her as “Annabelle”.

Mittens groaned. “Don’t say it’s one of those fics.”

Annabelle was abusive. It was a thing had Laurie had to deal with since she was three years old, when her father abandoned her and Annabelle. That’s when Annabelle had started to lose it. But then again, who wouldn’t?

“Who wouldn’t?” the RMC growled. It wasn’t trying to growl, but being an Uruk-hai kind of made it come naturally. It continued in a more normal tone of voice. “James, write a charge for slandering single parents by claiming that this is typical behaviour. Even if it’s from the girls perspective, she ought to know that this is not normal.”
“Certainly,” James answered, then started fumbling with the notebook. Suddenly having hands this size wasn’t doing anything good for his coordination. Saxo sniggered and James glowered at him, but the RMC placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Just write the charge,” it said, then turned to Mittens. “Get a reading on these people, please.”
Mittens nodded and took the CAD from the backpack. Then, after checking that it was muted, he pointed it at Laurie. After a moment he said: “Sue. Definitely.”
“And the other two?” the RMC asked.
“Non-canon bits.”
“So we’re not dealing with a cross-over. Good, since we don’t know the other book. Make a charge for copying a back story.”

In the fic, Laurie now shielded the puppy with her own body. Her mother dropped the broom, grabbed an iron fire poker instead and proceeded to beat Laurie with it.
“Something occurred to me,” James said. “Her name is Laurie and she’s eight years old. Do you think …”
The agents looked at each other, expressions of horror slowly creeping over their faces, even Saxo’s, as they realized what this could mean.
“In that case,” the RMC said, “we charge and kill her immediately. The slightest hint of romance and we charge her with that and with whatever are the most aggravating points on the charge list and then we kill her.”
“What if we don’t have enough for a charge list?” Saxo argued. “Like if she decides to romance Frodo before she even joins the Fellowship?”
“Sam will kill her if she tries anything,” Mittens deadpanned.
The two newbies looked puzzled, but the RMC smiled grimly – possibly the only way for a Uruk-hai to smile – for a moment, before it said: “We’ll charge with conspiring to do further crimes.” It glanced at the words. “Anyway, the Sue is unconscious and somehow fading into Middle-earth. Time to neuralyze the two bits. Mittens, grab the woman. Saxo, she has locked Tim in a closet; get him out of there.” 

The puppy had run out of the house and Annabelle was going to run after it, but Mittens grabbed her shoulder. At least, that was what he was trying to do, but his coordination was still not what it usually was, so instead he hit her on the side of the head and knocked her into the wall. Saxo was fumbling with the lock on the closet. The RMC, who was setting the neuralyzer, was the one doing best as an Uruk-hai; it had to adjust to walking on two legs and having hands every time it went into a mission and being this big and having hands the size of hams was really not much weirder.
Annabelle started screaming as Mittens reached down and pulled her to her feet. In contrast, Tim, who had been yelling and kicking inside the closet, fell silent as Saxo opened the door. The two bits were dragged over to the RMC. The agents closed their eyes as it pressed the button on the neuralyzer. Annabelle fell silent and the two humans stared at the RMC with vacant expressions.
“Annabelle,” the RMC said, “you do not have a daughter named Laurie. You are not a violent person and you would never hit a child.”
Annabelle nodded. Now that the expression of rage had gone from her face, she actually looked very kind.
The RMC turned to the boy. “Tim, you do not have a stepsister named Laurie and your stepmother is not violent. Now, both of you, there’s a scared and possibly hurt puppy outside. Since you both love dogs, you will find it, take care of it and give it a forever home here.”
Annabelle smiled. “Poor little dog,” she mumbled. Then she and Tim turned and went outside.
“Now,” the RMC said, “we have to catch up with the Laurie. Mittens, will you get the Remote Activator?”
“I’m trying,” Mittens said. “It seems to have gravitated to the bottom of the backpack.” There was a rather loud meow. “Ohai, Aniseed,” Mittens said, “have you seen the …” He stiffened. “Aniseed?!”
The RMC rubbed its forehead. “It must have stowed away in the backpack. Not a problem. We’ll just send it back.”
Mittens had his whole arm down the backpack, ignoring the annoyed sounds from Aniseed. “Here it is.” He pulled out the RA.
“Now open a portal back to …” the RMC began, but then the agents all froze as they heard a voice right outside saying: “I’ll get the leftover meatloaf from the fridge. I bet it’ll like that.”
There wasn’t time to send Aniseed back first.
“Middle-earth, now,” it said and Mittens set the RA. The portal opened, the agents all jumped through and it closed behind them, just as Tim entered the house again.

The portal led to a road running through a forest. A bit further down the road, two Hobbits were walking.
“Sam and Frodo,” the RMC said. It looked at the words. “They’re just about to meet Laurie. And the prose has gotten tolerable. Apparently it was just that one sentence that was mangled.”
“So now we send Aniseed back,” Mittens said, reached inside the backpack and took out the tulip cat. The following seemed to happen in blur. Aniseed caught sight of the two Hobbits and hissed loudly. What was really strange was that she also turned from her normal orange colour to a dark red, almost indistinguishable from black. Apparently, her origin as a CAD could not be denied in the presence of OOC Hobbits. She wormed her way out of Mittens’ grip and ran off, into the forest.
The RMC muttered something under its breath. From the tone of voice, Mittens guessed that it was probably swearing, but the only word he could make out was ‘eggplant’. He decided to not ask it to repeat it.
The RMC turned towards him. “You’ll have to go after her,” it said. “Send her back and then use the RA to rejoin us. Just use the ‘home in on Sue’ function.”
“Okay. How do I do it, if you’ve already executed the Sue by then?”
“Then you locate us through the Words …” The RMC’s voice trailed off as realisation dawned on it. It wasn’t that Mittens, like some agents, was unable to see the Words at all. When he squinted and cocked his head, he could see the words in front of him well enough to determine what had made a mini spawn or which awkward phrasing had turned someone into a gnome. But there was no way he would be able to skim the huge amount of text needed to find them. The RMC was about to say, that they would hold off executing the Sue until he got there, but that didn’t really seem an option. They had to kill the Sue fast if she tried anything. Having to sit through an romance-scene with an eight-year-old was the kind of thing that could crack the sanities of the two newbies.
It could see the same realisation on Mittens’ face as he said: “You go.”
“But the newbies?”
“I’ll lead them and collect charges. Just go after Aniseed, get her home and then rejoin us.”
“Very well. If you think you can handle it.”
“I can.” Mittens held out the RA.
The RMC nodded once, took the offered RA and ran after Aniseed.
Mittens watched it go, but after a moment it disappeared into the forest. Then he turned around to face his worst nightmare: Being in a position of authority.
“Right,” he said, as commanding as he could manage, “we have a change in assigned tasks. James, you still have the notebook. Saxo, you get our spare RA.” He dug in the backpack until he found it and handed it over. “You are both responsible for watching the Words. Look out for author’s notes, punctuation rains and unmarked scene changes.”
“She is in Middle-earth,” James said. “Is that not non-canonical? Can we not get her now?”
Mittens shook his head. “I like the way you think, but no, we have to collect more charges to make the sentence stick. Let’s catch up with the Sue and find out what we’ve missed.”

Not much as it turned out. Frodo and Sam had found the crying Laurie. The Hobbits had noticed that Laurie was horrible bruised, but she wouldn’t tell them who had hurt her. Since she was all alone, they had decided to take her with them to Bree.
“Is that a charge?” James asked, pen poised and ready.
Mittens bit his lip, a lot more carefully this time. “Taking her with them seems dangerous, but so does letting her walk to Hobbiton alone. And this is movieverse, which makes it seem like Bree is much closer than it actually is.” He wished that the RMC was here to answer the question, then wished that he hadn’t just wished that. It had been gone for less than five minutes and already he felt out of his depths. “We’ll let it slide,” he said finally. “It’s non-canonical, but they are acting pretty much as one would expect from those two, if they found a lost little girl. However, she should be charged with being able to communicate with them.”
“The thing with the bruises,” Saxo said, sounding bored. “They seem to be from the beating we witnessed her getting, but after being beaten with an iron rod, the little girl would be lucky to be alive; yet she only has a few bruises.”
Mittens nodded. “Yes, charge for trivialization of injuries.”
They kept on following the Sue and the Hobbits, who were soon joined by Merry and Pippin. So far the fic was simply copying the movie.
James walked besides Mittens and asked: “Do you know my new brother in arms, this Saxo?”
“Oh, yes,” Mittens said. “He’s actually from the same fic you’re from.”
James turned his head to look at Saxo. “I say,” he said, “we actually are a kind of brothers.”
Saxo stopped dead in his tracks. “We are not brothers!” he said, loud enough that Mittens glanced at the Sue to see if she had heard; fortunately she hadn’t. Saxo continued: “I am a Death Eater, one of of Lord Voldemort’s trusted men and I’m not the brother of …”
“You are a Death Eater!?” James’ voice went surprisingly shrill for something so big.
Oh bother, Mittens thought. I’m sure this wouldn’t have happened if the RMC had been here.
James was only getting started. He waved his club at Saxo. “Defend yourself, so that I may slay you in honest combat, you villain, you scoundrel, you blackguard, you …”
“Yes, we get the picture,” Mittens said, grabbed James’ hands and forced him to lower his weapon. “But trust me, you do not want to do that. The Flowers very much frown on agents killing their partners, especially when it happens on their first mission.”
“Oh, they do?” Saxo asked. He had looked at little worried at James’ threats, but now he was smirking.
Mittens met his gaze evenly. “Yes,” he answered, “they do. Fortunately, you and I are not partners.”
Saxo stopped smirking.
Finally, James hung the club back in his belt and, grumbling slightly to himself, let Mittens drag him along in pursuit of the Sue and Canons.

“Right. The Buckleberry Ferry. Follow me,” He said, gesturing through the trees.

There was a ‘pop’.
“I say, what is this?” James asked.
“That’s a mini-Balrog,” Mittens answered. He squinted at the words. “It must be Buckleberry.”
“What are we supposed to do with it?” Saxo asked, sounding as bored as ever.
“Watch and learn,” Mittens replied. He rummaged around in the backpack, until he found a smaller one made of a grey material. “Asbestos backpack,” he explained. He placed it on the ground and opened it. “Come on in,” he said to the mini.
It looked at him as if to say, that he had to be joking.
“Come on,” he said. “We need to keep you safe and there’ll be bacon in the end.”
The mini gave him another look as if to say, that he had better be talking about truly obscene amounts of bacon, but climbed into the backpack. Mittens closed it, not too tightly, and handed it to Saxo.
“You can carry it,” he said.
“Why me?” Saxo asked.
“Because I said so!” Mittens barked, giving his best impersonation of his old drill sergeant. It seemed to work, for Saxo took the backpack and didn’t argue any more.
“And now, would you please portal us to Bree?” Mittens asked.
Saxo fiddled with the RA and managed to do as told, and they portalled into the village. The Hobbits and the Sue were outside, asking to be let in by the Gatekeeper.

His wording reminded Laurie of a book she had once read about the Middle Ages.

The words were in the voice of Laurie, but she didn’t seem to be talking.
“What was that?” Saxo asked, not even sounding bored.
With some difficulty, Mittens checked the words and felt a sense of dread wash over him. “Until now she has basically just been paraphrasing what happens in the movie, but now she is starting to add her own thoughts on things and it manifests as some sort of commentator track.”
The agents exchanged glances. They knew that this was a bad thing, even if they still didn’t know just how bad.
Laurie and the four Hobbits walked towards the inn. The three Uruk-hai went over to the gatekeeper and Mittens used the neuralyzer on him. “Um,” he said, wreaking his brain for the man’s name. When he finally came up with it, it wasn’t from the book, embarrassingly enough, but from a mission report he had once read, where the name had been mentioned. “Harry,” he said, “only four Hobbits entered a moment ago. There was no little girl with them.” 

With that taken care of, the agents followed the Sue and the Hobbits to the Prancing Pony. They stayed outside the inn, looking in through the windows and following the Words. And listening to Laurie’s thoughts, which were becoming more obnoxious by the second. Pippin told Laurie about Gandalf.

Laurie’s jaw dropped. A real wizard? She suddenly felt like she was in some epic fantasy tale, and the plot was thickening every second. Laurie’s first thought was centered on where this “Gandalf” person had gotten off to. Her next thought was pure and utter ecstasy at the prospect of meeting a real, live wizard. These thoughts ran together in her head as the Hobbits deliberated on a course of action.

“They are among humans now; they should be asking around for her parents,” Mittens said.
James looked at Mittens. “Should I charge for something?”
Mittens thought. “Making the Hobbits kidnappers,” he finally said. “Really, I can find no other words for what she is making them do.”
They continued to watch the scene inside the inn. The Hobbits were drinking and Laurie was playing with a bottle cork.
Mittens frowned. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he muttered.
“Like what?” James asked.
Oh, great, Mittens thought. He had just revealed a lack of experience. He had to sound really clever now. He tried to copy the voice the RMC used when it explained things, as he said: “The normal reaction for a young girl who is thrown into another world, separated from anyone and anything she has ever known, is to be shocked, scared and sad.” He decided to continue in his own voice. “The way most Sues react – in fact one of the things that make them Sues – is to get used to the idea far too quickly and then be happy and enthusiastic. But this Sue is neither; in fact, I can only describe her reaction as … well, bored. I’ve never seen that before. Charge for it.”
In the fic, Laurie dropped her cork and got up to look for it. The cork had rolled into the corner where Strider was sitting and he handed it to her. She went back to the Hobbits and once again got caught in her own inner commentary track. She wasn’t pulled out of it until the three other Hobbits noticed that Frodo had gone and ran to find him.
“Hold on,” Mittens said. “There was supposed to be a scene with Frodo, where he accidentally slips on the Ring.”
“Hm, yes,” James said. “He was dancing on the table wasn’t he?”
“Well, this seems to be mostly movieverse so it wasn’t as elaborate, but it was there.” Mittens scanned the words as quickly as he was able to, but it was clear that the scene was missing. “It must have happened while she was zooned out. That stupid Sue!” he exclaimed. “She totally ignored the scene with the Ring in favour of inner monologuing. And she used a dropped cork to introduce Aragorn into her story.” He shook his head. “Charge for seriously bad storytelling.”
“There’s something in the words up ahead,” Saxo said. “I think it’s an Author’s Note.”
The agents covered their ears as the voice started blearing. 

Author’s Note: Sorry if some parts are a bit (Or way) off, but I couldn’t get my hands on a copy of FOTR. I’m doing this from memory (so expect the scenes to be completely out of order.)

“Charge for writing and posting a fanfic without having access to the canon material,” Mittens said.
The agents neuralyzed Barliman Butterbur and then followed the Hobbits, Aragorn and Laurie into the wilderness.
“Add Aragorn to the list of kidnappers.” Mittens looked darkly at Laurie. “Not only is she going to slow them down, taking her with them also means placing her in danger. They would never do that to a child, never. The worst thing is, that this fic actually seems to have an okay grasp of their personalities, except for this.”
Laurie’s inner voice started again.

Laurie followed close behind the Ranger, thinking that the closer she was to him, the farther she was from the Ring Wraiths. Laurie was in no hurry to meet the Nazgul again. It was several times that Laurie almost crashed into Strider when he stopped short to say something, or to check something on the ground. But Laurie still remained a solid three feet behind him at all times.

“Garh!” Saxo exclaimed. He went over to a tree and banged his head against it. He would have done so again, but Mittens grabbed his arm.
“This is what Bleeprin is for,” he said, digging in the backpack for the bottle and handing a couple to Saxo. “James, charge for having a really annoying inner voice.

 It was near sunset when the group reached Weathertop, as per canon.

“Should we,” Saxo began, managing to sound both bored and arrogant, “charge her for being able to walk all day without getting tired, despite her age?”
“Yeah,” Mittens said. “Also charge her with not slowing them down. It’s canon that they reach Weathertop at this time.”

Laurie stumbled back, and in her haste, she tripped and fell back on her bad wrist. Laurie had broken the wrist less than a week before, when she had tripped and fallen while running down a steep hill… to get away from Annabelle. It had been the first time she had ever tried to escape a beating, and the throbbing wrist was a painful reminder.

“A throbbing wrist? A throbbing wrist?!” Mittens stared at the Sue. “If you fall and land on your broken wrist, it doesn’t just throb. It should make you scream in a pitch only dogs can hear.” He turned to James. “Charge for …” he paused. “We already have a charge for trivialization of injuries, I want you to ramp that up to being totally clueless. This goes beyond simply not doing research, this is actively stupid.”

Frodo was wounded in the attack and became gravely ill. Laurie couldn’t bear to look at him and Aragorn took the time to ask her if she was okay and give her a pat on the head and some encouraging words, before he went out to look for Kingsfoil.
Laurie, who hadn’t given a thought to her old life since she came to Middle-earth, decided that now would be a good time to wangst about it. Her inner voice was heard, sounding even more whiny than usual.

Laurie was suddenly very depressed. How could she be brave now, when she couldn’t find the bravery to stand up to Annabelle after all these years? Laurie had been abused since she was three years old, so it had gone on for roughly five years. Every time Annabelle had struck Laurie- whether it was with a spoon, or a pen, or a knife… she had never protested. With a sinking feeling, Laurie felt it was her own fault that the abuse had gone on for so long. She could have stood up and said “NO!”, but she never had. With these thoughts, Laurie felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the lonely hole of seclusion she had fallen into so many years ago…

“Charge for being unbelievably self-centred,” Mittens said. “Frodo is dying and she’s thinking of nothing but herself.”
“She’s blaming herself for the abuse she suffered at the hands of her mother,” Saxo said. “That seems … unreasonable.”
Mittens thought this over. He had been on the wrong side of more beatings that he could count and it had never occurred to him to feel bad about not standing up for himself. What would be the point? It would only make the beating worse. But he had no idea whether humans, especially children, thought the same way.
Finally he said. “We should just make a general charge for bad psychology. Her inner voice is all over the place in terms of vocabulary and subject matter; at least some of it has to be wrong.”
James noted the charge and no-one made further comments. Mittens felt that he had just dodged a bullet, but he doubted that he could keep this up. He wanted the RMC back.

When Sam returned with the Kingsfoil. Laurie was still in her own bubble.

Thoughts of her mother had taken away what little joy and awe she had received from stumbling into this new world.

“What joy and awe?” Saxo snarked. “You haven’t exactly shown much.”
Which was a odd statement coming from someone who had himself called Lord of the Rings boring, Mittens thought, but didn’t comment on it.

Fortunately Arwen and Aragorn arrived and gave the Sue something else to think about. Aragorn took the time to call Laurie over and hurriedly introduce her – and her only – to Arwen, daughter of Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell.

Laurie blinked, and wondered if that meant Arwen was a Princess.

“She not a princess,” all three agents said, in almost perfect unison.
James and Mittens turned towards Saxo.
“How would you know,” Mittens asked, “that Arwen is not a princess?” Saxo opened his mouth to answer, but Mittens continued: “And don’t try to tell me, that it was in the first two chapters.”
Saxo closed his mouth again. He seemed to think for a moment before he finally shrugged and said: “I scanned the rest of the book. Everyone here seem to make such a fuss about it.”
“So you only read the first two chapters?”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t like them?”
“No.”
“But you scanned the rest of the book?”
“Like I said,” Saxo answered, sounding annoyed.
“And didn’t like the rest either?”
“Certainly not.”
“Fine,” Mittens said and turned away from Saxo. If he wanted to be stubborn, he could just go ahead.
While this conversation had been going on, Arwen had taken Frodo to Rivendell. Aragorn, the Hobbits and Laurie were also heading there and had left the agents behind.
Mittens squinted at the words to see where would be a good place to catch up with the canons.

On their third day of running,

“On their third day of running!?” Mittens repeated. “It was bad enough when they were walking, but does this Sue really think that an eight year old girl can keep up with grown Hobbits who are running? And for three days no less? James,” he tuned to his fellow agent, “charge her with bad physiology. She chose to be a small child, but she either doesn’t care about the limitations inherent in such a choice or she is totally ignorant about them.” He squinted some more at the words, then turned to Saxo. “Portal us to where she is talking to Aragorn, right before they enter Rivendell.”

Laurie told Aragorn that she wasn’t from this world and asked what it was called.

“Ironic. This world is called ‘Middle Earth’, or ‘Arda’, as the elves call it.”

There was a plop and a squeak and the new mini, Middle Earth, was placed in the backpack.
Aragorn didn’t doubt Laurie’s words, but didn’t seem much disturbed by the revelation, either.
“He sure is taking it in stride,” Mittens said and immediately regretted the bad pun.
“Should I charge for that?” asked James.
“Don’t bother. If we should make a charge for every single case of someone in this fic having an underwhelmed reaction, we would still be back in chapter two and we would be out of notebook.”

Laurie hadn’t told Aragorn or anyone else about her being abused, but Aragorn had noticed a lot of old scars on her and also that she seemed more quiet and careful than most small girls. He felt something was wrong with her.

He knew he would definitely need to seek Elrond and Gandalf’s counsel on this.

Mittens facepalmed. “Worst. Timing. Ever.”
“Well, he is a kind and noble man,” James said. “Surely, he would worry about one of his subjects.”
“The fox might be right,” Saxo said. “Isn’t that what good persons do? Worry about the weak and undeserving, rather than look at the big picture?”
“Not in this case. Aragorn has much more important things to worry about. Right now, all that should be on his mind is whether Frodo and Arwen made it here safely and in time. The Sue is making this story all about herself and her wangsty past.”

Finally, they reached the gates of Imaldris.

With a small pop, Imaldris, the mini-Balrog appeared.
“The backpack,” Mittens said, gesturing to Saxo. When the mini was safely placed inside, the agents continued after the Sue and the canons.
Gandalf appeared and Laurie was introduced; at least she seemed to show proper respect for him. Then Aragorn said that he needed to speak to Gandalf and Elrond about Laurie. Laurie sneaked after them and eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Worst timing ever,” Mittens repeated gloomily. “They should be talking about the Ring and Sauron and the coming war. If they should be talking about her at all, it should be about the fact that she’s from another world and whether or not she is a minion of Sauron. It’s like …” He hesitated, searching for the right words.
“It’s like she’s trying to make them all fit a role,” James said quietly.
“Yes, exactly.” Mittens nodded. “She’s trying to make them act the way adults would, back in her own world, if they found out about her scars. She refuses to acknowledge that there are much more important things at stake and that these three persons, as kind as they are, simply don’t have time to talk about how a little girl fell and got a welt.”
James nodded, but didn’t say any more. He was thinking about the Sue from the fic he had been recruited from. She had wanted an old, dignified knight and she hadn’t cared about whether the role had suited the character she had given it to or not. As it so happened, the answer had been ‘not’ and a character replacement had been created. “We should remember to check for character replacements,” he said.
“Oh, sure,” Mittens replied. “We’ll do so at the council; everyone is there. In the meantime, charge for twisting this whole story to be about her being abused.”
In her hiding place, Laurie wangsted some more. This time, she blamed herself for the abuse, because her mother got terrible headaches and Laurie always managed to make her angry.

Lord Elrond stood up.
“There is nothing we can do about this now, as we have more pressing matters to deal with. Strider, Laurie is in Rivendell now, and I assure you that no harm can or will come to her here.

“Go Elrond,” Mittens said. “He is fighting the Suefluence.”
“Hooray,” James said with a grin.
Gandalf caught Laurie eavesdropping and tried to make her talk to him about her injuries, but she refused to reveal that they were made by her mother; she would only say that the person couldn’t harm her here. Gandalf was satisfied with this and didn’t press the matter.

He winked at Laurie, and she smiled. Another new friend! And in only a few days!

“She met Gandalf less than an hour ago,” Saxo said, “and now she thinks they’re friends because he winks at her? I foresee problems in this girl’s future, if she does not learn to be less enthusiastic about men winking at her.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Mittens said. “She’s not going to have much of a future.” All the talk about the Sue’s injuries had given him an idea as to how to execute her. He just needed the RMC back to approve it. He frowned at the thought. How long had it been gone? It was hard to tell, since the Sue rarely mentioned time and when she did, she brushed through long periods in a few sentences.
His thoughts were interrupted by the Sue wangsting about how all this making friends was too good to be true and that something bad was sure to happen. All three agents smiled their widest, scariest Uruk-hai smiles.

Laurie went with Sam to the dinner hall, where they found Aragorn, Arwen, Merry and Pippin. Here the agents had to listen to Arwen giggling.
“The Lady Arwen. Does. Not. Giggle.” James growled the words.
“Yeah, I’d say that’s a charge,” Mittens replied.
James tried to write the charge, but pressed the tip of the pen so hard against the paper that he tore the paper and had to turn the page and start over.

The next scene featured Laurie and all the Hobbits in Frodo’s bedchamber. Laurie was still haunted by the image of him lying pale and dying on the ground, even though she had completely ignored him back when it had actually happened.
Mittens looked ahead in the words and frowned. “You check as well,” he said. “Is there any mentioning of Elrond treating her injuries?”
After a moment both the agents shook their heads.
“No,” Saxo said.
“Just a lot of people arriving,” James chimed in.
Mittens nodded, then turned around and kicked a hapless stone, sending it flying into a bush. “That stupid Sue!” he growled. “She makes everything about her and her trajeck and abusive past and her injuries, to the point where people, with much more important things to do, are having meetings about her. But she neglects to have Elrond, one of the finest healers this world has to offer, do the one thing that would make sense and be totally in character for him. Charge for not having Elrond heal her.” He took a deep breath as James wrote the charge. “Let’s skip ahead to the council. We might as well get it over with.”

Laurie hid with the Hobbits to eavesdrop on the Council, which proceeded mostly according to movieverse, punctuated by Laurie’s internal commentator track. Imaldris, the mini-Balrog, scratched on the inside of the backpack upon the mentioning of its name. Laurie briefly ignored the council in favour of thinking about her mother’s abuse.
“Can we make a charge for forgetting to capitalize proper nouns?” James asked. “Or maybe even for only capitalizing every other one? The inconsistency is starting to make me feel seasick.”
“Go ahead,” Mittens replied and turned back to the action. The story had reached the climax, where Frodo volunteered to take the Ring and Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir pledged their assistance. When Sam ran in, Laurie followed him.

“I’m going too,” Laurie blurted. Frodo, and pretty much everyone else, gave her an odd look.
“Laurie, it will be dangerous,” Gandalf warned her. She shrugged.
“I don’t care- it’s not like I have anywhere I have to be.” The wizard looked hesitant. Then he gave a gentle sigh.
“As you wish, Miss Summers.” He said. Many other members of the council gave him a strange look. He was permitting a little girl to go on a life or death quest?

There was the sound of something creaking. It appeared to come from everywhere at once, yet none of the canons nor Laurie seemed to hear it.
Mittens looked around, not liking this at all.
“I say, what is that sound?” James asked.
“I think it’s the Canon straining under the sheer improbability of an eight year old girl joining the Fellowship,” Mittens answered.
“Straining? You mean we’re going to have a canon break?” Saxo asked.
“No,” Mittens replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “If canon was going to break, it would have done so already. I can only recall hearing of one canon break and that was when a Stu put on the Ring and nothing happened.” He pointed to the people giving strange looks. “At least some of them are reacting normal. Charge for almost breaking the canon.”
Merry and Pippin came running in to join the quest.
“Uh oh,” Mittens said. He knew what came next.

Elrond smiled slightly.

“You shall count to nine,” Mittens muttered, “nine is the number of your counting.” Oddly enough, two things happened. Firstly, the creaking sound stopped. Secondly, Elrond stopped smiling and when he spoke, he sounded hesitant.

“Ten companions,” he murmured.

Mittens blinked in surprise, but didn’t stop. “You shall not count to ten, nor to eleven.”
Elrond actually frowned and sounded even more reluctant when he said the last part.

“So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Nine is number of the Fellowship,” Mittens finished and sighed. “That was weird. Usually the continuum only reacts that way when you cite actual canon. Shows how bad a shape it must be in, when goodfic is enough.”
“Should we get the readings now?” James asked.
“Sure.” Mittens pulled out the CAD, checked that it was muted and pointed it at Gandalf.
[Gandalf. Istari. Canon. Out of Character 81,29%]
“Hardly surprising,” Mittens said and pointed the CAD at Elrond. Then he looked at the readout and frowned.
[You are in a fic in which an eight year old girl joins the Fellowship] it said. The words disappeared as soon as he had read them and was replaced with: [Please assume that everyone who is okay with that decision] the words blinked again [is at least 80% OOC and don’t use me again unless] blink [you suspect an actual character replacement or have to check an OC.] After the last words, the screen went blank.
“What was that?” Saxo asked. He and James had both been looking over Mittens’ shoulder.
“Um,” Mittens replied. He turned the CAD over; on the back of it, a small label read ‘CAD MK-48’. “The RMC and I broke a CAD on a mission. It would seem that the one we got as replacement, has an attitude.
The screen flickered to life. [I heard that.] It went blank again.
“At least tell me the reading on Elrond,” Mittens said. “Not treating the Sue’s injuries is seriously out of character for him, even considering the fic.”
There was a brief pause, then the screen flickered to life once more. [Elrond. Half-elf. Canon. Out of Character 92,3%] The words disappeared again, almost before Mittens had read them and the screen went dark.
“So, no more analysing,” Mittens said. He shrugged and put the CAD in the backpack. “James, please write a charge for throwing everybody severely OOC.” He shook his head. “Including herself. I mean, whatever happened to ‘Laurie was in no hurry to meet the Nazgul again’? She was genuinely scared on the way here and she should want to stay in Rivendell. There has been no mentioning of her wanting to confront her fears or even that she only feels safe with her friends. She was just like, ‘Meh, I don’t have anything better to do. I’ll join you.’”
According to the story, the next couple of days were spent preparing for the journey and Laurie got to know her new travelling companions. The agents watched the narration for signs of bashing of Boromir or Gimli, but they found none.
“For once,” Mittens said, “Boromir and Gimli would have every reason in the world to give a ‘this is no place for girls’ speech and they don’t. We already have a charge for sending everybody severely OOC and I am still tempted to make this a separate charge.”
“Laurie has been given a dress for the journey,” Saxo said. “Why, with all the brain-bleeding stupidity this fic has already displayed, am I still surprised that she thinks a dress will be an appropriate attire?”
“At least she didn’t make Arwen give it to her,” Mittens said. “Charge for the dress.”

The Fellowship and Laurie set out from Rivendell and the agents went after them, after neuralyzing Elrond and everyone else, making a point to tell Arwen that she did not giggle.
Laurie kept up with the canon characters, even though she felt very tired and was not used to travelling on foot.
“I say,” James said, “This is the first we hear about her being tired and having difficulties keeping up. Why does she start now?”
“Dunno,” Mittens said. “maybe it occurred to the Sue, that she could wring more sympathy from the readers by getting exhausted and having trouble keeping up. Of course, now she is simply contradicting herself and making herself look stupid. If anything, she should be getting used to walking by now.”

Laurie was also a little distressed. She had the feeling that maybe Aragorn had told Legolas about his suspicions concerning Laurie. The elf had watched her carefully for the first week of the quest, and would talk quietly with Aragorn at night.

Mittens groaned. “Again with her being the centre of attention. They’re on a quest that will decide the fate of the whole world; does she really think that Aragorn and Legolas has nothing more important to talk about than her?”

Laurie fell and landed on her bad wrist.
Legolas was the one that helped her up, and he waved off the other members of the Fellowship, saying that he would take care of Laurie.

Mittens tensed and drew his knives. Beside him, the other two agents caught his drift and did the same.
Oddly enough, Legolas said that the wrist wasn’t broken, only twisted or sprained.

He stopped, and Laurie realized he was looking at the back of her hand. “Where did you get this?” He asked, gently touching the long, jagged scar on the back of her hand.

The agents all held their weapons at ready. Mittens whispered charges under his breath, preparing to rant off as many as possible before striking at the Sue.

“My hand slipped when I was cutting some vegetables,” She mumbled, looking down. It was that same impulse of hers- ‘Don’t lie to nice people’. And Legolas was a nice person, if she had ever seen one.

Mittens wished that he had brought his crossbow, wished that the two knives had been actual throwing knives, wished that Legolas hadn’t been sitting too close to Laurie for him to try throwing the knives anyway.
But nothing unseemly happened. Legolas put a splint on Laurie’s wrist and they got up and moved on, after Laurie had indulged in some more wangst. The three agents lowered their weapons and let out sighs of relief.

The fic moved on. Laurie had to keep her wrist with the splint still.
“Oh, now she’s not only getting exhausted, she also has to care about her sprained wrist,” Saxo said. “Even though when it was broken she never thought about it.”
“Yep, I’d definitely say that she’s angling for sympathy,” Mittens said. “James, would you be so kind as to charge for serious inconsistencies?”

The agents arrived at the gates of Moria right before the Fellowship and hid behind a rock-outcropping, where they watched Gandalf start to work on the doors.

They waited for nearly forty-five minutes, in which Gandalf attempted countless spells in Elvish, Orcish, Dwarvish, and a language Laurie couldn’t pinpoint.

“But she can distinguish the three other languages by sound,” Mittens commented. “Charge for that.”
Then the agents waited the forty-five minutes. While waiting, Mittens had time to think about the RMC. By now he was beginning to worry; even when taking into account all the time-compressions and portalling, he knew it had to have been at least a day since the RMC had left them. It should have been back by now and it started to seem more and more likely that something had happened to it. As much as it bothered Mittens to admit it to himself, the RMC wasn’t a good fighter. It was, in fact, kind of useless in battle. Its heart was in the right place; it had no qualms about hurting other living beings and Mittens didn’t think for a second that it would hesitate to kill, but its technique was non-existent. He hated to think this way about someone he looked upon almost as a commander, but it was the truth and he would have to face it. Mittens promised himself that he would make sure the RMC got some weapons training. If something happened to Mittens, if they got separated again, it needed to be able to defend itself.

In the fic, Gandalf had given up. Laurie went up and touched the door and Mittens expected her to steal the canon line, but it was Frodo who solved the riddle. The Watcher in the Water attacked them and dragged Frodo into the lake. Lauren was hit by a tentacle, knocked into a wall and laid dazed.
“Let’s get inside,” Mittens said, taking advantaged of the Sue’s inattention. Gandalf checked on Laurie, rather than helping the Ring-bearer and Mittens shook his head in disgust as they moved past.
They sat down in a dark corner and Mittens shook his head again, this time in confusion. “I just don’t get this Sue,” he said. “Almost any other Sue would have either helped Frodo against the Watcher or solved the riddle – most likely both – to justify being in the Fellowship, but this Sue is totally useless and does nothing to hide it.” He rubbed his head. Maybe speculating about Sues like this was one of the ways to go mad as an agent, but he found he couldn’t help himself. “What is the point of her? What does she think she’s adding to the story?”
“Her fascinating comments on everything?” Saxo asked.
Mittens smiled. “That must be it,” he said. “Too bad that all of her observations are completely inane; even her joke about ‘Gap of Rohan’ has already been used – and much better – in The Very Secret Diaries.”

The Fellowship proceeded into the mines and a new mini was spawned.

“Behold,” Gandalf said. “The great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrodelf.”

With a ‘plop’ the mini-Balrog, Dwarrodelf appeared and was quickly placed in the safety of the asbestos backpack with the others.
“Creation of minis,” Mittens suddenly remembered, “that’s also a charge.”
James added the charge and they kept following the canons and the Sue.
Laurie stole Frodo’s scene, where he for the first time sensed Gollum following them and the charge for doing this was added to the list.
Then followed the Orc attack.

Laurie scrambled out from under the stone and, almost instantly she was attacked. She slashed blindly at the Orc, and it screeched when she caught its nose with the tip of the dagger. Laurie shoved him away and moved to the side. The Orc snarled, and Laurie stabbed forward. Whether she hit just the right spot at just the right time, she didn’t know. The knife hit the Orc’s chest, and it died.

The three agents looked at each other.
“Um,” Mittens said.
“Um,” James concurred.
Saxo simply started giggling.
“I know, I complained that she is completely useless,” Mittens said, “but they way for her to remedy that, is not to start doing impossible feats. Charge for killing an orc.”
“I’d say! She is far too small to shove an Orc to the side to begin with. She also lacks the strength to properly stab it,” James said, while writing down the charge.
Saxo was still shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Yeah, and the Orc was wearing armour,” Mittens continued. “Not to mention that apparently it just stood there and let her stab it.” He looked at Saxo who had tears in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“That …” Saxo breathed. “That was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. That little girl with her tiny knife and she used it to kill an Orc. It was ridiculous.” He suddenly seemed to sober up. “Actually, that’s not really funny, is it?”
“Not really, no,” Mittens replied.
Saxo dried his eyes. “Didn’t think so.”

The Fellowship made for the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. Now, Mittens started to worry. In a very short while, Gandalf would fall with the Balrog and he wouldn’t show up again until much later. The problem was, that Mittens wasn’t sure that Gandalf being away for a very long time and doing whatever it was that turned him into Gandalf the White, while still under the Suefluence was a good idea.
He turned to his two fellow agents. “Saxo, the RA, please. We have to neuralyze Gandalf now.”
“But how?” James asked. “They are all running towards the bridge.”
“I don’t think you can get him to just stop and chat,” Saxo said as he handed over the RA.
Mittens bit his lip, forgetting to do it carefully and winced. “I’ll have to do it when he’s separated from the others.”
“On the bridge?” Saxo asked. “They’ll see you.”
“No, in the abyss.”
The other two just stared at him. He didn’t stare back, but made for the edge of the abyss. He could think of only one way to do this and he would have to time this extremely precisely, otherwise the result would be … messy. He wished he had wings. Or another body with wings. His kind had so many interesting potential abilities, but he hadn’t had time to learn any of them.
He pre-set the coordinates on the RA and also readied the neuralyzer. Then, he and the other two agents waited for the canons. 

Even in a Sue-fic, seeing Gandalf taking a stand against the Balrog was enough to give Mittens goosebumps. Then the Balrog’s whip wrapped itself around Gandalf’s leg and he tried to hold on, but fell. Mittens jumped.
He fell down the abyss next to Gandalf and saw the wizard’s eyes widen in surprise. Mittens pointed the neuralyzer in his direction, closed his eyes and pressed the button.
“Gandalf the Grey.” He had to yell, because the wind was snatching the words from his mouth. “You have never met a little girl named Laurie. You would never allow a little girl to go with you on this quest.” Mittens had wanted to say more, something about how Gandalf had more important things to do than hold meetings about little girls, but he was falling fast now and every second counted. “I was never here,” he finished, pointed the RA downwards and pressed the button. He landed in the snow on Caradhras. Conservation of energy dictated that he exited the portal with the same speed as he had entered it, so it wasn’t a soft landing, but he landed on a rather steep slope and slid a few feet before he was so deep in the snow that he couldn’t slide any longer. He laid for a second, the wind knocked out of him. Nothing seemed to be broken or seriously bent. He flailed around, trying to get up, then remembered that there was a cleverer way to do things. He was clinging so hard to the RA that he had to use his other hand to pry his fingers of it, but he finally managed to key in the coordinates and press the button.
He landed next his fellow agents, flat on his back. It hurt. He thought of the Stues that he and the RMC had dropped backwards through portals and found grim satisfaction in the idea, that it had hurt them as well. He picked himself of the ground. “That’s that taken care of,” he said. “Now lets move on.”
Saxo just stared at him, but James smiled broadly and said: “That was the most daring stunt, the bravest feat, I have ever seen!”
“Thank you,” Mittens said. “Hope you got a good look, because that was something I wont be doing again any time soon.”

They followed the rest of the canons as they exited the Mines and moved on to Lothlórien. Laurie claimed that her depression because of Gandalf’s death made her self-absorbed and uninterested in her surroundings; the agents were unable to spot a difference.

“Mae Govannen, Legolas Thrandullion.”

‘Plop’.

“Oh, another mini,” Mittens said. “It must be Thrandullion. I’ll get it. James, you can add it to the list.”

The Fellowship were taken to meet Galadriel and Celeborn. Galadriel spoke to Laurie, telling her that she had suffered much for one so young, but that all her suffering would come to an end.
“We’ll put an end to her suffering, all right,” Saxo said with a smirk.
“The Sue is making Galadriel sprout platitudes,” Mittens said.
There was a low growl from James at this, but before anything could be said, there was another of Laurie’s thoughts.

Galadriel was both a creepy and encouraging sight.

This time both Mittens and James growled.
“Charge for referring to the Lady of the Wood as ‘creepy’,” Mittens said. “Try not to break the pen or the notebook while doing so, but I won’t blame you if you do.”
An Author’s Note blared.

A/N: Okay, I kinda got Laurie’s gift from “The Chronicles of Narnia” (Lucy’s gift), but I couldn’t think of what she could get. But I assure you- it will play a part later on in the story. And for those of you who asked- yes, I shall be doing the complete trilogy.

The agents looked gloomily at the last sentence. Dead Fics, even bad ones, made them feel uncomfortable.
“Charge for ripping off Narnia,” Mittens said. “Also charge for getting a speshul gift, rather than just getting the same daggers as Merry and Pippin.”
Chapter Twelve opened with Laurie listening to the Elves singing.

She was slightly irritated that they always spoke in Elvish, and she could never understand what they were saying.

Mittens pinched the bridge of his nose. “Must. Resist. Urge. To. Make. Joke. About. Stereotypical. American. Tourists.” He swallowed some Bleeprin. “Firstly, you shouldn’t have been able to understand anyone in this world. Secondly, you get to experience Tolkien’s Elves in their homeland and your only reaction is to whine that they are speaking their own language, thou ungrateful whelp?” He turned to James. “Do we already have charges for being self-absorbed, lacking priorities and being super-underwhelmed?”
James looked through the notebook. “In some form or another, yes, yes and yes.”
“Add a charge for annoying PPC-agents.” By now, they had probably reached the point where no new charges would be generated, which meant that it was time to charge and kill the Sue.

She knew she would start to cry soon, and it would be all too embarrassing in front of a bunch of full-grown adults.

“Who have all been crying over Gandalf themselves,” Saxo said, with a smirk. “Except that she was too occupied with herself to notice.”
When Galadriel gave everyone their individual gifts, Laurie got a small bottle.

“A drop of this liquid,” Galadriel said, “Will heal any wound, no matter how serious. But be warned now- It cannot bring back the dead.”

“That’s ripping off Narnia all right,” Mittens said. “We’ll have to remember to get that bottle.”
“What did I miss?” a voice asked and a hand came down on Mittens’ shoulder. He spun around, standing face to face with an Uruk-hai. He had already drawn his knifes, when it occurred to him that most Uruk-hai do not go up to people, slap them on the shoulder and ask questions. He sheathed his knifes. “Most of the fic,” he said. “They are leaving Lothlórien.”
The RMC, disguised as an Uruk-hai, tilted its head. “I’m not sure what happened,” it said. “I fell through a plothole into something that looked like Narnia.”
“It most likely was,” Mittens said. “The Sue ripped it off.”
“That explains it then. I suppose the odd timeflow in Narnia meant that I spent much longer time there than I thought … Except, it should have been much less time.” It looked puzzled. “Oh, I know. I tried to go back to the beginning of the fic. I must have ended up in Narnia’s version of World One, where time moves much faster.” It nodded. “Anyway, I’m here now. What about the Sue, are we ready to kill her?”
“Yes,” the three agents chorused.
The RMC looked at them with a bemused expression. “Good,” it said. “Can I have a look at the charge list?”
“Of course,” James said and handed it the notebook.
The RMC read through it and frowned. “So, she doesn’t really do anything, except join the Fellowship and get in the way? And not even much of that?”
The three agents looked at each other and nodded; even Saxo and James agreed on this.
“She hasn’t got a lot of canon-breaks, no,” Mittens said, “but this fic is awful. Nothing makes any sense. She fails at logic, psychology, physiology and she can’t even be consistent about the things she gets wrong.”
“I see.” The RMC nodded. “No reason to drag this out any longer, then. If you have enough charges, we’ll kill her.” Its eyes got a distant look as it glanced at the words ahead of them. “The Fellowship reaches the Falls of Rauros. There’s a mini that we have to pick up.” It looked ahead further and its eyes widened. “Dear Eru, she goes with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, when they pursue the Orcs and she actually manages to keep up. There’s another mini.” Its eyes narrowed. “And she seems to be cosying up to Gimli.”
“What?” Mittens said. “I thought he was immune.”
“Well, not completely. He just gets ignored by most Sue, unless they want to use him as some kind of designated bastard. I can’t recall ever seeing a Sue who wanted to befriend him.”
Mittens shook his head to clear the confusion, then reached for the Bleeprin.
The RMC continued. “We can neuralyze Boromir, Merry and Pippin at the Falls.”

“Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Morodr from the North.”

With an indignant squeak, Morodr, the mini-Balrog appeared and was quickly placed in the backpack. Saxo grumbled about the weight, but Mittens suspected that he was making it up. He himself had never experienced the weight of minis as being a problem, just like there always was enough room for them in the backpack.
The Fellowship ran off in all directions in search of Frodo and Boromir and left Laurie alone.
“Once again she chooses to ignore the exiting bits in favour of her whining,” Mittens said. Then a burst of inner monologue hit them.

She rolled the cork in her hand, and made a note to keep a tight hold on it so that she didn’t drop it into the river or anything. She thought of Aragorn. Was this what it was like to have a father? Laurie didn’t remember her father- he had left her and Annabelle when Laurie was very young. She had a step-father… but he had never paid any real attention to Laurie. It wasn’t that he hadn’t liked her… he just thought she was a weird, clumsy, quiet kid.

They all winced.
“Dear Eru,” the RMC said. “Is this what the charge for inner monologuing was about? Has there been a lot of this?”
“Almost constantly, I fear,” James said.
The RMC shuddered. “I’ll do the neuralyzing,” it said. “Might as well finally make myself useful.” With this, it opened a portal and was gone.

Then, Laurie compared both ‘fathers’ to Aragorn. He paid attention to her. He was kind to her. He didn’t think she was just some ‘weird, clumsy, quiet kid’. He had gone out of his way to be nice to her. To protect her. He wasn’t Laurie’s blood-relative, but right now, Laurie wished that he was. At least then she’d have one real piece of a family.

“With her Suefluence, she could most likely make it happen,” James muttered.
“We wont let her,” Mittens said, handing out Bleeprin to his two colleagues.
After the RMC had carried out an actually quite impressive logistical feat and managed to get Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam neuralyzed, they portalled to Rohan.

“This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Laurie Summers. We are friends of Rohan and of Theodan, your King.”

The mini-Balrog, Theodan, sprinted over to the agents and was picked up and placed in the backpack.
“Now we can …” Mittens began, when they were all knocked over by an Author’s Note.

Author’s Note: Okay, due to popular demand, I am going to stray from the story line. But it’s not going to come up for a while, so just sit tight for a chapter or two.
Oh yeah, and thank you all for the lovely reviews! It’s encouraging that people aren’t beating me down and calling this a Mary-Sue. Then again, Laurie’s eight, and it’d be pretty dmn creepy if she fell in love with someone… (Shudders)

Mittens got up and glared. “First of all,” he said, “it would have been nice to know a lot earlier on, that you didn’t plan on making this a romance. Secondly, some of the worse Sues in recorded history have been children or siblings of main characters, rather than love interests. If that’s your excuse, it’s a stupid one. James, charge for not having any idea what a Mary Sue is, but still claiming that she isn’t one.”
James scribbled the charge. “Do we charge her now?” he asked.
Mittens looked at the RMC, who nodded. “Yes,” Mittens replied, “now it’s time; we just have to find an opportune moment.” He squinted at the words. “And I think it’s there.”

At the sight of the pile of burning Uruk-hai and especially the head of one, mounted on a spear, Laurie felt nauseous and she went off to the side. She was just done being sick, when she saw a blue light fall on her from behind and then someone grabbed her.
She screamed and her friends turned towards her, weapons in hands, but whoever had grabbed her, held her up like a shield and Legolas dared not shot and the others dared not come any closer.
She heard a voice saying, in a mocking tone: “Careful, we don’t want her getting lucky with the knife again.” Then she felt the knife being removed.
Another voice said: “Now that I have your attention …” Then there was a bright flash of light and Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli all got sleepy and confused looks.
“Okay, listen,” the voice said. “None of you know a little girl names Laurie who claims to be from another world. None of you would ever dream of taking a child on this quest. Also, Aragorn, you are far to busy to fret over some little girl’s bruises. You were looking for signs of the Hobbits and you should continue to do so.”
To Laurie’s horror, they all nodded slowly and just turned away. Even Aragorn didn’t as much as look at her. She wanted to scream again, break the evil spell they were under and force them to remember her, but she was dragged backwards into the blue light and her friends disappeared.

Mittens placed Laurie on the ground and the four agents surrounded her.
“You should read the charges,” the RMC said.
Mittens nodded and got the notebook from James. He cleared his throat. “Laurie Summers,” he said. “As Protectors of the Plot Continuum we hereby charge you with the following crimes: Slandering single parents; copying – no, ripping off – your back story; being able to understand people, even though they don’t speak English and you presumably don’t speak Westron; severe trivialization of injuries, to the point where you are completely clueless about them; making the Hobbits and Aragorn kidnappers; coming to a new world and reacting by being bored; bad storytelling; writing and posting a fanfic without having access to the canon material; having a really annoying inner voice; being able to walk and run all day and even keep up with the rest of the Fellowship; being unbelievably self-centred; multiple instances of bad psychology and bad physiology – basically, most of the time, you neither think nor act like an eight-year-old and you can’t even be consistent about how you are wrong; twisting the whole story to be about you being abused, to the point where it is the only thing on people’s mind.”
He lowered the notebook to glare at the Sue. “Didn’t it ever occur to you,” he asked in a conversational tone, “that people here are in the middle of a war that will determine the fate of the whole world and that maybe, they have more important things to worry about than you?”
The Sue looked at him blankly, which was all the answer he needed. Clearly, the idea had never occurred to her.
He sighed and kept on reading. “You are also charged with making Arwen giggle; not having Elrond treat your injuries and crimes against capitalization. If you’re not going to capitalize all the proper nouns, you shouldn’t capitalize half of them. For one thing, it clearly marks you as being lazy, which is worse than being ignorant, and for another, it makes my fellow agent feel seasick. You are also charged with almost breaking the canon by joining the Fellowship, even though you are only eight years old.”
He lowered the notebook again. “Really, I cannot begin to describe how wrong that is. ‘Do not place a child in unnecessary danger’ is not some obscure footnote in the Silmarillon; it is a rule so basic, that humans across the world goes by it. I won’t even call it common sense, since even several species of animals follows it. Saying that you threw everybody severely out of character, simply doesn’t do justice to what you did.” He leaned closer to Laurie. “Congratulations,” he said, “I believe you’ve managed to make the members of the Fellowship act more stupid and irresponsible than several species of frogs.”
He leaned back. “Besides that, you are also charged with making yourself act OOC by going into danger without any kind of justification; wearing a dress on the journey; having serious inconsistencies; being able to distinguish the three different languages by sound; creation of the mini-Balrogs Buckleberry, Middle Earth, Imaldris, Dwarrodelf, Thrandullion, Morodr and Theodan; stealing Frodo’s scene; managing to kill an Orc; referring to the Lady Galadriel as ‘creepy’; ripping off Narnia; getting a speshul gift; annoying PPC-agents and claiming that you are not a Sue, even though you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about, which leads me to the final charge for being a Mary Sue. You punishment for these crimes is death.”
When Mittens finally closed the notebook, the RMC said: “Good; you’re getting the hang of what makes a story work. It seems that all that watching the Nostalgia Critic has paid off.”
Mittens smiled, then looked at Laurie. “Do you have any last words?”
Laurie blinked with big tear-filled eyes. “You’re just like Annabelle. She hurt me all the time and whenever I made friends she moved us to a new city and I …”
Mittens hit her with the notebook to get her to shut up. Then he smiled; not a nice smile. “You’re right,” he said, “we’re exactly like your mother. We get these headaches and then the only thing that helps is to hurt you.”
“Not that I don’t agree we you,” the RMC said, “but we still need to find and neuralyze Gandalf before he meets up with the others.”
“Oh, I’ve already neuralyzed him,” Mittens said.
“Really? When did you manage that?”
Mittens told him when and how.
The RMC looked at him for a moment, then it grabbed his arm and dragged him off to the side. “I wish I could just tell you how much I admire your devotion to the Duty and your ingenuity, but honestly, what were you thinking?! You could have been killed!”
Mittens blinked. “I wouldn’t have stayed dead,” he said.
“None of us know exactly what will happen if you die, but at the very least it will be a bloody inconvenience and at worst you wont be able to get back.”
Mittens looked down. He thought he had done good, but it seemed he hadn’t. Now the RMC was angry with him.
Then the RMC grabbed him and hugged him so hard that he couldn’t breathe. “You could have died,” it said and suddenly it didn’t sound angry at all. When it finally let him go and stepped back, it said: “We’ll talk more about this later, but for now, I’ll put it in words you can understand. If you at any time have to choose between postponing the Duty and placing yourself in an unreasonable amount of danger, you are to postpone the Duty. And that’s an order.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now, it’s high time we found out what to do with our Sue,” the RMC said as they walked back to the others.
“Actually,” Mittens said, “I have an idea.” He looked at Laurie. “We are not going to hurt you,” he said. “We are not going to do anything to you. We’ll let you do it to yourself.” He reached over and took a small bottle from her pocket. “Can’t forget this. A rip-off from Narnia given by Lady Galadriel herself will make for a really nice souvenir.”

The agents stood looking through the open door to the Reality Room. Inside, the full effect of being beaten with an iron rod, was catching up with the Sue. It wasn’t a pretty sight. James looked away and the RMC placed a large paw on his shoulder; he didn’t know whether it was to comfort him or to remind him that he had to watch. At least it was over quickly.

After the clean-up was done, the agents all walked back to RC#170. They were expecting that there would be a message there, instructing James and Saxo about what they should do and where they should go. As it turned out, there was a message, but not the kind they had expected.
“Uh-oh,” Mittens said, looking through the open door and into the RC.“What? Are the mini-Darkspawn preparing a Blight again?” the RMC asked. “When will they understand, that they are not allowed to do so in HQ?”
“Better see for yourself,” Mittens said and stepped inside. The others followed him.
“Uh-oh, indeed,” Saxo muttered as he looked around.
The RC had grown quite a bit and instead of one door leading to the bathroom and two doors leading to bedrooms, there were now two extra doors in the opposite wall. There were also two extra beanbags.
“I say, it looks like we’re supposed to stay,” James said, sounding enthusiastic.
Mittens and the RMC looked at him, then at each other and nodded weakly.
Saxo looked outraged. “I will not stand this!” he said. “If I’m to be partnered with the fox, at least we should get our own room. I’ll …”
“Oh, hush,” the RMC said. “Sit down.”
“But I’ll …”
“Mittens will make us tea. He can open his gift early; it looks like a larger teapot.”
“Hm. Very well. But just one cup and then I’m off to complain to the Flowers.”

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Kill off the Mary Sue

Author’s Note: To be sung to the tune of ‘Kidnap the Sandy Claws’ from ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ which belongs to Tim Burton. The PPC belongs to Jay and Acacia. Mittens, Saxo and James are mine.

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
Execute the Mary Sue

[James]
I wanna do it

[Saxo]
You got the Stu

[Mittens]
We can kill the Sue together

[James]
All at once

[Saxo]
Agents in leather

[Mittens]
We’re out to get her

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
Wheeee
La, la, la, la, la

Kill off the Mary Sue, stab her with a knife
Twist it once or twice and then
watch her lose her life

[James]
First we’re going to smack her hard
but that will only be the start
We will keep on doing it til
she can see both moon and stars

[Saxo]
Wait! I’ve got a better plan
To kill this thief of Arwen’s man
We’ll throw her in the Cracks of Doom
Orodruin will be her tomb

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
Kill off the Mary Sue
Kick her in the head
Chop her with an axe
and just repeat until she’s dead

[Mittens]
Then the Floating Hyacinth

[James & Saxo]
Will really have to take the hint
She’ll be so pleased, she’ll have to say

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
That we can take a holiday
Wheeee!

[Saxo]
I say we should use the Balrog
Put her at its door
and then, call for it until it shows up
Mary Sue will be no more

[Mittens]
You’re so stupid, think now
We will have to read the charges first
Otherwise it’s simple murder

[James & Saxo]
And the free time bubble bursts

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
Kill off the Mary Sue
Drown her in a swamp
Midgewater will do just fine
There’s so cold and damp

[Mittens & Saxo]
Because wangst and OOCness will really make us frown
If I were on a agent’s list, I’d get out of town

[James]
Then to the cafeteria, yay

[Mittens]
To get the special of the day

[James & Mittens]
Perhaps they’ll have their special brew

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
Of snake and spider stew
Ummm!

We’re the flower’s henchmen
And we do our jobs with pride
We do out best to please them
Abd stay on their good side

[Mittens]
I wish my brain wasn’t getting numb

[James]
This fic is awful

[Saxo]
It’s so dumb

[James]
Kill it!

[Saxo]
Will do

[Mittens]
I’ve thought of something, pay attention
This one could really work, I’m sure
We just need something really cute
That we can use as bait to lure

The Sue away from Aragorn
And into Mirkwood on a tour

[Mittens, James & Saxo]
And with the help of giant spiders
Then her death we
will ensure

Kill off the Mary Sue, beat her with a stick
Thrown her out from Orthanc, she will fall just like a brick

Kill off the Mary Sue, Shelob wants a snack
Get behind her with a club, give her a good whack

Kill of the Mary Sue, she’s not Strider’s wife
We’ll think of the perfect way to make short her life

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