LJ RPF Fic: Operation Furious Child

[coyotesuspect]

familiardevil : Friends cut!
unavoidedcrisis : These always make me worry that whomever is posting them is a secret agent and needs to go into hiding or like, an informant going into witness protection.
cantarina1 : So you are a secret agent! Is Coy the handler you fell for or are you spies on different teams having an illicit affair? OR MAYBE, she's the nerdy tech geek who builds you cool gadgets that you keep breaking on missions? Or is the story too deeply classified for me to know?

And then, I, uh, went to my sister's first volleyball game and typed up the first part of the epic spy love story of coyote and familiar on my iPod. Stop judging me.

Title: Operation Furious Child
Fandom: uh... LJ RPF
Summary: It's a coyotesuspect /familiardevil Spy AU. And roughly based on true events.
Rating: S for Sexy. No, like PG.
Word Count: 800
Part: 1/????
Notes: Written on my iPod. I haven't even looked it over before posting. Deliberately written in a ridiculous style.

ETA: Oops. Sorry about the lj cut fail. I swear I know what I'm doing.

It was mid-October, and the day was gray and chilly. Dry brown leaves skittered and swirled in the wake of the dark figure, which paused first at the corner of Iron and Wine, and then made its way with grim intent towards a small hovel building set back from the street. A neon sign in its window, flickering and faded, advertised the establishment as "Lucy's". It was a bar.

The figure pushed open the ancient, creaking door of the building, letting in a blast of chill air behind it, then pushed back its hood to reveal the pale, delicate features and coppery tresses of a young woman. Her piercing, beryl green gaze swept over the room she found herself in. It was small, dank, and dimly lit, and stank of cheap beer and the sweat and crushed hopes and dreams of the dockworkers who mainly patronized the place.

Even now, only midafternoon, a few of those dockworkers sat and washed away their sorrows- their loveless marriages, their poorly paying jobs, that exotic case of shark herpes they caught from that prostitute with the French ass name. But among them was an incongruity, another young woman, who was sitting calmly at the bar and talking quite amiably with the bewhiskered and bespectacled bartender. She had given no indication of noticing the redheaded women's entrance, but if the woman at the bar was who the redhead thought she was, then she knew she had already been noted and sized up.

Still, she approached, sliding onto the barstool next to her quarry. She ordered an ale. The other woman remained apparently oblivious next to her.

"It's strange," said the redhead, apparently talking to everyone and no one, "but I was watching television the other day, and there were these women on it. I think they were ninjas. Super hot ninjas. With knives." She knocked back her ale and shrugged "I don't remember what it was though. Must've been a porno."

The bartender gave her a bewildered look, but the woman next to her had stiffened almost imperceptibly. The redhead hid a small smile.

"Can I get another?" she asked the bartender. He nodded, and, as he moved to refill her drink, the woman turned to look at her.

"You know," she said cautiously, and for the first time, the redhead was able to get a good look at her. She was a brunette, with piercing aquamarine eyes and an almost Lauren Cohenesque beauty to her. She was gorgeous. "I think I was watching the same thing. It wasn't a porno though."

"Huh," said the redhead. The bartender returned with her second drink. "I guess I was wrong."

"I guess so," said the brunette archly. She stood up, put down a few bills on the counter, and left, brushing past the redhead as she did so.

The redhead hid another smile. She finished her second drink more leisurely. When she was finished, she too left a few bills on the damp and peeling counter, then pushed back into the chill autumn day.

She reached into her pocket. There were two things inside it that hadn't been before. The first was a flash drive, the second was the torn corner of a piece of paper, a string of apparently random letters written upon it.

It took her a matter of moments to break the code. Then she whipped out her cellphone and dialed the number the code jad revealed itself to be.

"I expected you to call sooner," said the voice of the brunette, picking up on the second and a half ring.

"I was enjoying my drink," said the redhead laconically.

"I'm sure," said the brunette, her tone expressing anything but sincere faith.

"You should be," said the redhead sweetly. "I'd never lie to a pretty girl."

The brunette laughed. "I'm flattered," she said dryly. "Though if you never lie, I suppose that means you'll tell me your name."

"I said I'd never lie; I never said I would always tell the truth," said the redhead. She paused. "You can call me Coyote. What should I call you?"

"Devil," said the brunette. "My codename's Devil."

"I hope to become quite familiar with you soon, Devil," said Coyote. She glanced pointedly to the side then, as if acknowledging some kind of joke or subtle poking of the fourth wall to a television audience.

"I suspect you will, Coyote," replied Devil, her voice inflecting the word suspect. She hung up.

Coyote dropped her phone into her pocket. She would destroy it later, now that she knew the location of their second meeting. Her clue had been familiar; Devil's suspect. Familiar suspect could only mean a repeat meeting at Lucy's.

Coyote didn't bother to hide her smile this time.

She was definitely going to enjoy this assignment.

-
end part one

to be continued...?

Comments

[coyotesuspect.livejournal.com]

I can just see it now.

Coyote dialed the number desperately, frantic for her handler to pick up.

"Hello?" said the cold voice of her boss, .

"THE CRISIS HAS NOT BEEN AVOIDED," screamed Coyote into the phone. "I REPEAT. THE CRISIS HAS NOT BEEN AVOIDED."

A booted heel slammed down onto her hand, crushing both her phalanges and her phone.

She could only hope Devil would find her in time.

[unavoidedcrisis.livejournal.com]

...

...

YES.

[familiardevil.livejournal.com]

Meanwhile, Devil was tied to a bed in Cherie's den...

[coyotesuspect.livejournal.com]

"Cherie," said Devil, more calmly than she felt. She tried in vain to struggle against her bonds. "This isn't you! You need to let me go."

Her heart was beating a frantic taboo against her ribcage. She had been about to warn Coyote that the meeting was a set up, but had been captured by her former lover before she had the chance. Now...Coyote was walking into a trap.

"Not me?" said Cherie, arching an exquisite brow at the bondaged spy. "What makes you say that?"

"Because the Cherie I know- the Cherie I loved would never act this way! She believed in the cause of wincest more than anything."

Cherie gave a cruel, odd chuckle. And that's when Devil felt the first strange stroke up her thigh, something smooth yet hairy... She repressed a shudder.

"You're right," said Cherie darkly. It was then that Devil realized Cherie wasn't actually speaking; her mouth wasn't moving. The sound was coming from somewhere- from someone else. "Cherie does believe that."

Something lashed hard against Devil's cheek. She yelped in pain.

"Good thing I'm not Cherie," said the thing.

Devil gasped. "No," she said. "No. You can't- she was conditioning you, you bitch!"

Cherie's hair laughed darkly.

"Don't sound so shocked," it said, a tendril of it tightening slowly around Devil's throat. "You know us sharks will always betray you in the end."

Devil's struggles increased tenfold, but already her vision was beginning to darken...

[familiardevil.livejournal.com]

oh my fucking god

[coyotesuspect.livejournal.com]

Is this good or bad?

[familiardevil.livejournal.com]

[scorpiod1.livejournal.com]

I ALWAYS KNEW CHERIE'S HAIR WOULD TAKE OVER ONE DAY. I KNEW IT.

[coyotesuspect.livejournal.com]

IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME.