Secret Agents
| Summary: | In which Ilraen teams up with Agents Orken and Thomas to keep a Sue from marrying Alex Rider and infiltrating Hogwarts. |
|---|---|
| Source: | “Magic World” by The First Gatekeeper. |
| Continua: | Alex Rider and Harry Potter. |
| Timeline: | Mid-2011. |
| Published: | October 7, 2011. |
| Rating: | PG/K+ - It’s okay, the badfic can’t actually hurt you. Excessive head-banging might, though. |
| Beta: | Tranum. |
| Co-writer: | Guvnor of Space. |
Orken 7861 had finally managed to make some headway into The Grapes of Wrath when the alarm went off.
[Beep beep beep Beeeeep BEEEEEEEP! Beep Beep Beep Beeeeep BEEEEEEEP!]
O’Neil, who had spent the last several hours laboriously typing a message to Thomas using an Unas-to-English dictionary on the console, jumped back. Orken didn’t even look at the message before hitting the button to shut off the alarm. Consequently, this brought the intelligence report up and erased O’Neil’s message. The mini-Unas, just then remembering that he should have saved his letter regularly, gibbered angrily at Orken. Orken ignored him and began reading the report.
Thomas glanced up from 1984, having made almost no headway since borrowing it from Orken months before. He had just made it to Winston’s musings about the Spies in chapter two, and had been distracted by thoughts of his days as a Boy Scout. The book was simply not holding his attention.
“What is it, Orky? More Stargate?”
Orken looked up. “Hm? Oh, no, Agent Thomas, it’s an Alex Rider, Harry Potter crossover.”
“Why’re we getting it, then? Shouldn’t it go to the untanglers?”
“Minor Mary Sue. They’re sending us in to kill her, and sending us a detangler to get Alex back from the Harry Potter ’verse. Or whatever it is they do,” said Orken, grimacing.
“You don’t know what they do?” Thomas asked, intrigued.
“I thought my time was best spent learning how to do my job, not looking into the affairs of another department,” said Orken, his face turning slightly red.
Thomas grinned. “You sure looked into Luxury’s affairs, dude. And she’s a Bad Slasher.”
“Agent Thomas, that was once! And I told you never to speak of it again.” Orken turned away from him to hide his ever-reddening face.
Thomas giggled. Finally regaining control, he said, “So if they got alerted at the same time as us, this disentangler dude should already be on their way here, right?”
“Indeed, Agent Thomas. Try not to embarrass me.”
“Who is it, dude? Maybe I know them.”
“It is Agent Ilraen. I do not believe the two of you have met. I met him, briefly, a few months back.”
“What’s he like? What continuum is he from? Is he smarter than you? Tell me all about him, dude.” Thomas jumped out of his chair and began rubbing his hands together. He loved meeting new people.
“You will meet him soon enough, Agent Thomas.”
“Aww, you’re no fun, Orky.”
“Agent Thomas?”
“Yeeeessss?” Thomas gave his biggest and most annoying grin.
“Don’t call me Orky.”
A few minutes later, Ilraen arrived at the door to RC 16,202,535 and knocked. He had been surprised at the summons, but not more than his partner upon learning that it was for him alone. He was determined to make a good showing, both personally and as a disentangler, and he took care to stand squarely with his messenger bag settled so that the Flying Pig flash patch on the strap showed at his shoulder.
Thomas answered the door, a grin on his face. His expression turned to one of shock when he saw Ilraen. “Uh . . . Orky . . . it’s one of those blue dudes from your continuum. Aren’t you guys enemies or something?”
Orken, who was busy sorting through the contents of his backpack, rolled his eyes. “Yes, Agent Thomas, Agent Ilraen is an Andalite. I congratulate you for noticing that, and not letting your desire to greet him and invite him in get in the way. You know, silly things like manners.”
Thomas, catching the sarcasm, held out his hand. “Uh . . . hi, dude. I’m Thomas.”
<Hello,> Ilraen replied with what passed for a smile on a face with no mouth, shaking Thomas’ hand without hesitation. <Please do not be concerned. Orken and I have met, and we were not enemies the last time I checked. In fact, I am happy for the chance to work with both of you.>
“Come in, then, dude.” Thomas gestured at the inside of the RC, and moved out of the doorway grabbing his backpack. “Orky was just about finished packing, and then we’re ready to leave.”
“Indeed, Agent Thomas.” Orken carefully placed two energy bars in a side pocket of his bag and hefted it onto his back. “As soon as we decide what disguises we will be using, we can get started.”
Thomas shrugged. “Maybe wizarding robes? Possibly suits, to fit in at the fake bank.”
In the midst of the discussion, Ilraen entered the room. He was about to inform them he didn’t know the Alex Rider continuum at all, so the disguises were entirely up to their discretion, but he was put off by a determined attack on his forelegs by a scaly-looking little creature with pronounced head ridges. He reared back on his hind legs in preparation for what was intended to be a graceful hop to the less cluttered side of the response center, but what a slipping hind hoof caused to be more of a floundering scramble to get all four legs back under him without stepping on the mini.
“O’Neil! Don’t attack our guests. How many times have I told you that? Do you ever pay attention to me?” scolded Orken.
O’Neil stopped attacking Ilraen and restarted his tirade at Orken, yelling at him for not paying attention to what was on the console and erasing his letter.
Orken, of course, could not understand, and did his best to ignore the loudly gibbering mini. “I apologize for his behavior. We need to . . .” O’Neil got louder. Orken did the same. “We need to decide on . . .” O’Neil began gesticulating wildly, and increased his volume. “O’Neil, I understand you have some kind of grievance, and we shall address it later. For now, we need to prepare for . . .” O’Neil approached the top of his mini loudness range. Orken grabbed what looked like a mechanical hand from Thomas’ side of the response center and threw it at O’Neil. The hand, having gone days without grabbing anything, snatched onto O’Neil, who yelped in surprise, but otherwise quieted. Orken cleared his throat. “We need to decide on a disguise and get going. We have dallied here long enough.”
<I leave the disguises to you. I am not familiar with the primary continuum in this mission,> Ilraen said, eyeing O’Neil both to make sure he wasn’t going to attack again and because he was puzzled by the whole exchange. <What do you suppose your little friend was so adamant about just now? He certainly was trying very hard to be heard.>
“I dunno. He and bunch of other minis pinned me to the floor one time and threatened me with a letter opener. He’s always angry about something,” Thomas piped in.
Orken shrugged. “If there was some way to communicate with him, things would be simpler. As it is, we have to guess. It isn’t anything urgent, I assure you. We keep him well fed and he has free range of Thomas’ side of the response center. Whatever it is, we will address it when we get back. On a more pressing topic, we have to choose disguises. It would appear that this will be Thomas’ decision.”
Thomas thought it over for a second. “I say we do suits. We can pretend to be guards again. That usually works on Sues. I guess it makes them think they’re important. So just a . . . .” He glanced at Ilraen. “Uh, dude, quick question. I know you guys can do the whole turning into other things . . . thing, so would you rather do that now, or just let the disguise generator change you?”
<I find it simpler to rely on the disguise generator, but thank you for asking,> Ilraen answered. <For one thing, no two-hour limit.>
Orken punched in the necessary settings on the console and opened a portal. “Shall we go, Agents?” He stepped through.
“Can’t think of anything we’re forgetting,” said Thomas, shrugging.
<If there is anything, we will improvise,> Ilraen assured him, and followed Orken into the fic. His usual red-headed, somewhat androgynous and youthful human form appeared to have been aged a few years to suit the role of a security guard. His chest and shoulders were filled out, tipping the scales definitively toward the masculine side. The suit helped, too.
Orken looked almost unchanged, except for the suit, which looked right on him.
Thomas’ long hair had been replaced by a much shorter cut, and he looked at least seven years older. He also looked very uncomfortable in the suit. He pulled at his tie. “All right, dudes. This fic starts in what’s supposed to be a bank, but is really a secret headquarters for M16. So that’s why we’re wearing suits as guards, not, ya know, security uniforms.”
Shortly after noting this, an author’s note blared in their heads.
This is my new fanfic, enjoy !
I do not own Alex Rider or Harry Potter :(
The frowny face was especially grating on the brain. Then, the narrative declared,
Alex POV
Orken grumbled. “That should be apparent if the author is doing their job right.”
“Worse,” Ilraen responded in a pleasant, if slightly nervous, tenor, “it means we can expect point of view shifts in the future.”
Thomas paled. “No! Not cyclical POV changes again! I can’t go back, dude!”
“You and I are of like mind, Agent Thomas.” Seized with a moment of alarm, Ilraen searched quickly through his messenger bag before sighing with relief at finding a half-full bottle of Bleepka in the bottom. He repositioned it so it was on top, in easy reach.
“Good to hear, dude,” said Thomas, eyeing the Bleepka with jealousy. Diverting his gaze, he said, “Yeah, I didn’t repair the dummy from our last mission yet, so if we hit first person, things might get . . . interesting. Do you have a dummy?”
Ilraen shook his head. “We have not needed one, so far.”
“Lucky. We’ve needed it twice so far. Last time there were random switches between first and third person and it created two copies of the Sue. It . . . it wasn’t pretty. If that happens . . . I dunno, dude.”
“It may not come to that. It is likely just regular bad writing,” Orken said consolingly.
Alex Rider was called to the Royal and General, again.
He was eighteen now and Jack had left to go and live in America, so he lived by himself.
He was also a fully fleged MI6 agent.
He went to university (Yes he managed to get there) in London and still lived in the same house.
Anyway, as Alex entered the Royal and General, he was greeted by the secretary.
"Hello Mr. Rider"
"Hello Miss Hart"
Thomas began banging his head on a conveniently placed wall. “Ugh. He would never voluntarily join MI6. Even if he did, how could a full fledged agent go to school at the same time? Why does the author say ‘anyway’? THIS MAKES NO SENSE!”
“He might be like this the entire time. I hope you do not terribly mind keeping a charge list?” Orken said apologetically.
Ilraen was surprised. “I never thought of it. Usually my partner does that, but let me see.” He delved back into the messenger bag and eventually came up with the nub of a pencil and a cloth napkin filched from Rivendell. He tried to write on it, but quickly gave up when all he could manage was something that looked like a drunk dwarf had tried to scribble some dirty runes. “Um. I don’t suppose I could borrow a piece of paper . . . ? Sorry.”
“He has the notebook we usually use,” he said, gesturing to Thomas. He tried to get his attention. “Agent Thomas. We need to note down charges.”
Thomas took a break from banging his head on the wall and looked up at Orken. “Charges . . . right, dude. I’ll do that.”
“If you wish to give up the notebook and continue your self-injury, Agent Ilraen is willing to note down charges.”
Thomas gave the wall a longing look, but shook his head. “No, dude, I think I’ve got it.” He pulled out the notebook and began writing.
Meanwhile, Alex reached the elevator.
Alex walked to the lift and pressed the button for Alan Blunt.
“Ugh. Alan Blunt doesn’t have his own private floor. It should be for the floor his office is on. I’m charging for making elevators move in ways they weren’t meant to,” Thomas grumbled.
Orken gave the Words a glance. “We should get on that elevator.” As he said it, the doors to the elevator opened. “Hurry!”
The three agents sprinted across the lobby, encumbered by the suits they were wearing, jumping through the elevator doors just before they closed. A second later, they opened.
Alex left the lift and entered the office.
Thomas groaned and noted down a charge for distorting space.
"Hello Alex" said Mr. Blunt
"What do you want me to do this time ?" asked Alex
"We want you to infiltrate a special school, a magic school" replied Blunt
"What ! There’s no such thing as magic !" shouted Alex
"Yes there is. All the mist lately is from the guards from the wizard prison who have joined Voldemort, the maniac villain of the wizard world" replied Blunt
"How are you going to get me in ? I'm not 14 anymore" questioned Alex
"You are going to be a teacher, someone who came to the school for protection with your wife and son"
"What ? Wife and son ?"
"Yes, wife and son. We're borrowing them from the ASIS. The should be here about now."
The period-less dialogue sounded oddly like an enormous run-on sentence as spoken by the two characters.
Thomas began banging his head on the wall again. His speech was distorted by the constant impacts, sometimes being completely obscured by the banging noises. “He just accepts all that? How—” a series of especially rapid bangs made it temporarily impossible to understand what he was saying, before he could be heard again. “He doesn’t ask for proof—” more loud bangs— “he’s smarter than that! A man he very much does not trust, who actively deceives him to manipulate him throughout the series, tells him magic is real and then, unquestioningly, Alex believes him? Dude, this fic is hurting my brain.”
“In addition, he is a Muggle,” Ilraen started, but Thomas’ head-walling became too much for him. He didn’t know whether Orken’s partner was the type to lash out, but he put a hand on his shoulder anyway. “Agent Thomas, please stop. Since Orken and I are not familiar with this canon, we need your expertise. In fact, why not tell us more about it? I would be interested to learn.”
Thomas stopped the banging, and shook his head. “The short answer is ‘What if James Bond were fourteen and didn’t have a different girl every movie?’” Thomas stopped and thought for a second. “Uh . . . lessee. The main character there is Alex Rider, who for the series is fourteen. MI6 uses him for all sorts of spy jobs because no one would suspect a kid. He’s smart, athletic, and gets plenty of gadgets, so yeah, dudes, he’s pretty much a teenage version of James Bond. The only thing is, like a sane person, he doesn’t like being in danger, so they have to blackmail him into doing anything in the first place. Oh, and there’s cool gadgets and a space station in one of the books, and other stuff like that, which is probably why us Sci-Fi dudes got called in.”
Meanwhile, the two aforementioned spies from the Australian Secret Intelligence Service showed up, stepping through the elevator door.
Just then a beautiful young woman came in carriying a little boy.
“What. No. No. No!” said Thomas, aghast.
Orken slapped his hand over Thomas’ mouth and said tersely, “Sue! Be quiet.”
Ilraen clenched his fist around his bag’s shoulder strap. “This does not bode well. Why must they involve children? And how can a boy small enough to be carried serve as a useful spy?”
Orken nodded in agreement. “I think that was my partner’s rather inarticulate point.”
"Hi, I'm Alyssa and this is Thomas" said Alyssa
"Alex, this is your new partner" said Blunt
"Hello Alyssa, Thomas, I'm Alex" Alex announced to his new partners
“She stole my name? Sue’s gonna die . . . ” Thomas muttered. The continued lack of periods and the sheer speed of the dialogue were doing nothing to improve his mood.
After being dismissed, Alex and his two supposed partners stepped into the elevator. Orken jumped in after them, followed by Thomas the agent and Ilraen. The Sue gave him a suspicious look.
Orken straightened his tie and effected a thoroughly awful British accent. “We’re security. Don’t want anything to happen to you before this very important mission you’re going on.”
The Sue nodded. “Very good! I’m glad to see that nothing will get in our way of defeating Voldemort.”
Thomas made a strained gurgling noise. Ilraen offered a smile, but it was not something he was particularly good at even at the best of times.
Alex tried to start a conversation.
"So...How long have you been with ASIS ?" asked Alex
"I've been with them for two years now" responded Alyssa
"How are you really related to Thomas ?"
"He's my brother actually" Alex noted that she was shy
"And what’s your story ?" he asked
"Story ?"
"Every spy has a story of how he or she got into the business"
"My story ? Well...My parents were in gangs and drugs, my Mum cheated on Dad and Thomas was the result. My Dad was drunk when he found out, he killed Mum and she told me to take Thomas and go to a shop in Sydney. It turned out that it was the ASIS HQ"
Thomas muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “that makes no sense at all,” but the Sue didn’t seem to notice. Just then the elevator conveniently opened on the ground floor of the Royal and General. Alex, the Sue, and small!Thomas stepped out of the elevator, followed by the agents.
"Mumma" a voice came from Thomas
Luckily for the agents, the Word World was smart enough to know which Thomas was being referred to.
"Yes Tommy" came the awnser
"I hungry"
"OK honey, I'll ask Daddy if he knows a place to eat"
"There's a restuarant that's good for kids just round the corner" replied Alex without having to be asked
As they reached the car park Alex walked towards a four door saloon
They all got in the car and Alex started driving.
“Wait. They just got a super secret mission and now they’re going out to eat. This fic is so stupid. Gimme one second to refresh myself.” Thomas began hitting his head into a parked car.
Ilraen, not content to stand by and watch and emboldened by his previous success, gently seized Thomas’ head and steered him away from any solid objects. “I recently experienced first-hand how to restrain someone for his own good,” he said. “I have not tried it yet, but I may.”
Thomas looked longingly at the car. “But the hitting keeps the bad out!”
“That does not make sense,” Ilraen said, letting go. “How does giving yourself a headache or a concussion keep the bad out?” He shook his head and turned toward Orken, plainly wondering how long he was going to allow this to continue.
Thomas seemed to think this over. “Well, when I’m hitting my head on things, I’m thinking ‘ow, dude, this hurts’ not ‘why is a secret agent taking the time to go to a family restaurant?’ I guess it’s just my gut reaction.”
Orken shrugged. “He never asked for Bleeprin, and for the next couple weeks he can’t have any, anyway. This seemed to keep him from doing anything too stupid—he has a thick head and has never done more than break the skin a bit, and it’s less likely to alert a Sue than him yelling about vegetables and Roman emperors. It isn’t like he’s slamming his head into things full force.”
“You of all people should know how delicate the human brain is,” Ilraen said, displeased with Orken’s opinion now that he’d heard it. He folded his arms. “It can only take so much punishment, badfic or otherwise.”
Orken glowered at him. “He’s fine. He hasn’t suffered any sort of permanent damage. When Medical checked out his brain after his Bleeprin overdose, they didn’t see anything else wrong. A little light head-banging isn’t going to kill him.”
Thomas gave the other two agents a confused look. “Uh . . . dudes. I’m right here. You can stop talking like I’m a little kid. I’m technically an adult—”
Orken didn’t seem to hear him. “And furthermore, even if it was causing him brain damage, he isn’t complaining about it. He is independent from me, as he so often likes to remind me, and if this is how he feels he can best remain sane, I trust him. Trust me, Agent Ilraen, it is best not to get too close to your partners.”
Ilraen scowled right back. “Part of an agent’s duty is to stop his partner when he is acting insane. That is why we have partners.”
Orken looked flushed. “THIS is not insane. Having him yell about how Constantine is a ‘righteous dude’ is much crazier than having him hit his head into things. I mean, without Bleeprin, if the fic is bad enough, that’s what he’ll do! You have no clue as to how preferable this is to having him go insane! You’ve never—” He was interrupted by Thomas, who had had quite enough.
“Orken! Shut up! You’re the one who’s always talking about professionalism. I might not be an expert, but dude, this looks pretty damn unprofessional. And you!” Thomas turned his glare on Ilraen, who took a step back as though bodily struck.
“I don’t hit my head hard enough to do any real damage,” continued Thomas. “It hurts, but it isn’t dangerous. Dude, stay out of my business. Orken would stop me if this ever got real bad. He cares a lot more about me than he would have you believe.” Orken looked as if he wanted to refute that, but decided against it. “If he bothered to shut up for THREE SECONDS so I could say that, maybe we wouldn’t have had this argument.”
“I apologize. I only meant to avoid seeing anyone hurt,” Ilraen said, unconsciously hunching his shoulders.
Orken nodded. With a great amount of authority, he said, “Apology accepted. Now we must move on, and—”
“Orky!”
Orken grimaced. “I apologize for my unprofessional argument. I should have let Thomas explain himself.” His voice lowered somewhat. “Trust me when I say this, Age—Ilraen, the last thing I want is to see my partner come to serious harm.” He clapped his hands together, as if he could physically dispel the uncomfortable atmosphere that had descended on the agents. Thomas, at least, seemed satisfied. “Now. We need to portal to Alex Rider’s house, and catch back up with the Sue.” He opened a portal. “Shall we go?”
The three agents stepped through the portal, emerging in what was presumably the entryway of Alex’s house.
Orken gestured to positions on either side of the door. “Pretend to be guards. They’re about to come in.”
Alex and his two “partners” “arrived at Alex' house which had the Austrailiens bags in the hall.”
The “Austrailiens” took on the form of two black-haired women who were almost identical except for their clothes and the fact that one of them was Aeryn Sun and the other was Vala Mal Doran. They both had bags. Also, they both looked pissed.
Thomas rubbed his eyes. “Uh . . . dude . . . there are two tiny Valas. Why . . . I guess those are Austrailiens? What in the name of Apophis are we going to do with them?”
“One of them is Aeryn Sun of the Farscape continuum,” said Ilraen, who had finally watched the series after several missed references too many. “I suppose the term could apply if you wanted to get meta. And spell it better,” he added after a glance at the Words.
The Sue and her brother, meanwhile, were carried upstairs by Alex. He snagged Vala and Aeryn along the way. Soon after, Alex and the two “spies” were asleep.
Orken removed the RA from his pocket. “We should skip ahead to the next morning.” He opened a portal and gestured to it. “Shall we go?”
Thomas jumped through, followed by Ilraen and Orken.
The three agents emerged in the exact same entryway, the next morning. Orken frowned at the Words. “Hmm. That child-thing is about to wake Alex up. We should get somewhere where we can listen to what they’re saying . . . they don’t specify that there is a kitchen, so I assume that that will all happen here.” He glanced into the next room and spied a generic couch. “That should work.” All three agents hid behind the couch, just as Alex came down the stairs.
"I'll get you breakfast, just don't wake Mumma" pleaded Alex, knowing that Alyssa would want some sleep
"OK, Daddy"
They went downstairs and Alex got out some cereal for him and Tommy.
Thomas snickered as Alex pulled a box of cereal out of thin air.
"So...Tommy, do you like me ?" asked Alex
"Of course I do, you're my Daddy"
“I may be wrong,” Ilraen said, gripping the strap of his bag, “but I do not believe a child of this age should accept a strange man as his ‘daddy’ so easily. He is old enough to reason at a basic level, and to know the difference between someone who cares for him as a friend or as a parent. This is wrong.” He gave the strap a decisive twist.
The Sue joined the other two at the base of the stairs and the two began discussing Blunt.
"Why don't you like Blunt ?" asked Alyssa
"I don't like him because, when my uncle died, he made me take his place at the age of 14 and after that I became MI6's secret weapon, any mission that I went on was a mission that other agents had tried and died on. For example on my 4thmission(skeleton key), the other two agents with me were killed and the enemy shot himself because I reminded him of his dead son and on my 6th mission(SCORPIA) I was shot 3 cm from the heart" Alex explained
Thomas began banging his head into the (thankfully soft) couch. “You are listing all the reasons you should be more upset about Blunt getting kids involved! Dude, this is just . . . gah!”
“I do not believe that those parentheses should be in the middle of dialogue like that. At least it’s not as bad as that SG-1 Stu we killed a while back,” Orken said, a look of disgust in his eyes.
Thomas grimaced.
“Why must they involve children?” Ilraen wondered again as the boy, Tommy, started crying over Alex’s story. The agent moved as though about to get up, then thought better of it and settled again. “How much more of this is there?”
“I dunno. And see, that’s my point exactly, Ilraen. I mean, in the books Alex is fourteen, so at least he’s able to fend for himself and think. Not-me-Thomas over there is way too little,” he said, gesturing at the child in question.
Orken glanced at the Words. “There is still far too much of this.” He pulled out the remote activator. “It’s time to resume guard duty.”
The three agents were once again in Alan Blunt’s office, and got into position in front of the uncanonical elevator just as it opened and the three young “spies” stepped out.
"OK Alex, this mission will be one of your toughest yet" stated Blunt "And your cover has been dificult to create and there are some complications that we are going to sort out right now"
"What kind of complications, Alan ?" Alex asked sweetly
"Well.."Blunt looked embarrassed(Does that even happen?)"You two have to officially get married"
Thomas’ mouth opened wide enough to catch a score of flies. “Wha . . . ?”
"What?" Alex and Alyssa almost screamed
"Yes, I know you're going to hate me-"
"Like I don't already" Alex muttered under his breath
"-, so I'm going to do this quickly" Blunt finished "Because I'm the head of MI6, I have the right to marry you in the eyes of the law, so please come before me"
Thomas would likely have tried to rush the Sue if he hadn’t been in shock. A very short marriage ceremony was performed, and the agents finally got their explanation as to why it was happening.
"Why did we have to get married ?"
"Because the most powerful wizards have a way of seeing if your telling the truth" explained Blunt
Ilraen opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he could answer the confused looks he was getting from the other two. “Technically that is true,” he finally said in a rush, “but irrelevant! Veritaserum, for instance, would force them to unravel the full story with the proper questions, marriage or no marriage. Is Alex not a spy? Should he not try to avoid a situation in which he might be interrogated in the first place? This is . . . .” He shook his head. “I am fairly certain ‘forcing arranged marriages’ is on most of the PPC Basic Charge Sheets.”
Thomas looked a little sheepish. “He’s a James Bond spy. He gets caught at least once per book . . . although it’s still a stupid plan.”
The Sue and her two male companions got into the elevator to go to a different part of the building. Orken gestured for the agents to join them.
The Sue looked pleased to see them. “I feel safer knowing you guys are here to protect us, even if I can protect myself.”
Orken just nodded. Thomas had to cover his mouth to avoid a spurt of laughter.
The elevator arrived in Smithers’ lab, with its vast array of gadgets. Thomas looked around hungrily, imagining all the fun he could have with them. Luckily for him, Smithers was about to give some to the Sue and Alex, which he was sure would have to be secured for the good of canon. The scientist, who was possibly the only non-Simpsons Smithers in any canon, began handing out the things the spies would need for the mission.
"Great, first, here are the rings, if you speak into your ring the other person with the ring will be able to hear you and if you twist it once on your finger you will be able to talk directly to Mr. Blunt" Smithers explained as he gave them there there rings
“Not at Hogwarts, they won’t,” Ilraen muttered. “Technology and magic do not mix. One more reason this plot is nonsense.”
"Me want something pretty too" objected Tommy
"Here you go little fella, I got you something for you too" he said as he gave Tommy a picture book on wizards fairytales
"For you, Alex and you, Alyssa X-ray sunglasses" he said as he gave them the sunnies
"Your guns Alex" he said as he gave Alex his handgun and sniper rifle
Thomas almost commented about Alex never being given guns (by MI6, at least) before realizing that he was supposedly eighteen now, so that probably wasn’t a charge.
"And for you Alyssa, this necklace has four different beads on it two green and two red, the green one's give off sleeping gas and the red one's explode when you take them off" explained Smithers "I've also packed all your clothes in some trunks plus some cloaks and smaller cloaks for Thomas"
Thomas was practically drooling by this point. “So much stuff to take . . . dudes . . . .”
“That necklace strikes me as a bad idea,” Ilraen cautioned. “Simply removing a bead activates it immediately, it seems. You could lose a hand.”
“Still cool,” said Thomas, shrugging.
Orken was looking at the Words again. “Hurry. We need to get to some sort of hidden train platform. We’ll confront the Sue, and Ilraen can take Alex back to his canon.” The supposed Hogwarts infiltrators left the lab and Orken opened a portal.
The three agents emerged on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters just as their targets made it through the magical barrier. Something seemed off about what was going on around them. For one, Alex was popping in and out of existence, sometimes eighteen, sometimes eight, and sometimes not there at all. It was kind of like watching someone moving under a strobe light. Thomas groaned when he realized what was happening.
“Dudes . . . uh, Alex Rider may not have the most stable timeline in the worlds. There may be some contradictions about his age. I’m guessing Harry Potter is better?”
Ilraen nodded. “The years of the books are firmly established, and the fandom has pieced together a great deal else besides. Let me see . . . if they are actively fighting Voldemort, this must be at least fifth year, after he returned. Dolores Umbridge would be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, not that anyone would miss that woman.”
Thomas nodded. “Okay. Uh, we should probably snatch those guys off the train. Orken and I will take the Sue, and you can do whatever it is you dudes do with Alex.”
“Yes. If you take the Sue and the child, I will stay back and handle the canon characters, then catch up to you. Don’t kill her before I get back, however, or the plan will fail.”
The three agents clambered aboard the Hogwarts Express, eliciting a few puzzled looks from random students who weren’t used to seeing adults on the train at all, let alone in Muggle suits. However, the looks slid off them as soon as they landed thanks to the combination of the Sue’s presence changing things to accommodate the idea and their own SEP fields. They found Alyssa, Tommy, and Alex sharing a compartment with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It was a bit cramped, since the compartments usually only sat three or four students, even with Tommy on his “mother’s” lap. Ilraen squeezed his way all the way to the back, up against the window. Everyone stared at him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Um. Ma’am,” he addressed the Sue, “please go with my colleagues. There is . . . a situation, which only you can . . . that is—”
Thomas interrupted him, trying to fake a British accent. “What my colleague here means is . . . .” His fake accent, which had started to sound Australian, reverted itself when he cleared his throat. “Our rather blunt friend here is supposed to be telling you there’s an urgent matter that needs to be discussed in private, eh?” His accent had ended up sounding Canadian.
“Aren't you a bit old to go to Hogwarts ?” Hermione asked suddenly, staring straight ahead with a fixed expression. It seemed as though she knew something was wrong, but couldn’t get off-script.
“It’s okay,” Alyssa said. “These men are my guards.” She stood up, taking Tommy with her. There was a bit of a shuffle as she tried to get out of the compartment with Thomas in the doorway, until finally Orken went one way, he went another, and Alyssa emerged in the middle.
As soon as they were out of sight of the open doorway, Thomas had his knife at the Sue’s throat. “Don’t move.”
Orken took Tommy in his arms, keeping one hand over his mouth. Awkwardly, he opened a portal to the beach he usually used for Sue executions. The two agents stepped through, leaving Ilraen alone on the train.
For a moment, the canon characters stared at the ginger “security guard,” and he stared right back at them.
“I'm Hermione Granger, this is Ronald Weasly and that is Harry Potter,” Hermione said, breaking the silence. The mini-Aragog, Ronald Weasly, popped into existence on the seat next to her, looking as disgruntled as an eight-legged little monster can.
Ilraen shook himself and pulled a neuralyzer and his sunglasses from pockets under the messenger bag’s flap. “Yes. That is almost correct—I believe you missed an e in ‘Weasley’, but it is not your fault. Please look this way, everyone.” They already were, but it didn’t hurt to make sure. The mini, on the other hand, had the sense to face the back of the seat and shut his eyes instead. The neuralyzer flashed, and the memories of the past couple of days faded with the glare.
“Now,” Ilraen said, turning to Alex, “You are Alex Rider, you do not believe in magic, and you have never heard of Voldemort, Harry Potter, or Hogwarts, unless the books exist in your world. You are going to give me the things Mister Smithers gave you today, and then you are going to forget about them. When you go home, you will be fourteen and none of this will have ever happened.”
Alex, complacent as he was throughout the fic, handed over the gold ring and the X-ray sunglasses without a fuss. Ilraen opened a portal to the boy’s home ’verse and gave him a nudge to send him along, then turned his attention to the three Harry Potter characters.
“You three . . . .” He paused a moment to think about it once more. “You three are beginning your sixth year,” he declared. “The Ministry was forced to admit Voldemort’s return and share the information with the Muggle government after the battle in the atrium at the end of your fifth year. Ron and Hermione, you are prefects, and you have duties. You will go about them after I am gone. Harry, you have to go spy on Draco Malfoy. None of you have ever heard of Alex Rider and you never saw me or my friends.”
The canon characters cleared out of the compartment as soon as he stopped talking. Setting his remote activator to “Home in on Sue,” he hoisted Alex’s and Alyssa’s bags through and came after them, Ronald Weasly scuttling along behind.
Orken and Thomas had switched positions. Thomas was standing off to the side, holding Tommy by the hand. Orken had the Sue on her back, with his knife at her throat. He barely glanced up when Ilraen stepped through his portal.
Thomas, on the other hand, was practically bouncing up and down. “Can we charge her now? She keeps accusing us of being traitors, and it’s getting really annoying.”
Ilraen blinked in surprise. “Yes, of course. I only said not to kill her so I could find you again.”
Thomas pulled a notebook from his pocket. Tommy was looking about, utterly confused. Thomas began reading.
“Alyssa of ASIS, you are hereby charged with distorting the character of Alex Rider in a plethora of fashions, including but not limited to: making him far too trusting of Alan Blunt; making him join MI6, despite his hatred of being a spy and only doing it because of blackmail; making him accept the existence of magic far too easily; and giving him little objection to officially marrying you.”
“Traitors! What is this madness? Let me go!” The Sue was of course trying to put on a defiant act. Thomas and Orken rolled their eyes in tandem, though neither noticed.
“You are also charged with distorting the physical makeup of the Royal and General Bank, having a brother with annoying and incredibly non-realistic dialogue, marrying Alex Rider with flimsy justification, having a bad and poorly thought-out cover for your mission that required the aforementioned charge, trying to go undercover in a school for magic while being a Muggle yourself, combining the Alex Rider and Harry Potter continua, which take place at least ten years apart, having really cool gadgets you don’t deserve—”
“Agent Thomas!” Orken barked.
“Fine, fine, not that last one. Creating two ‘Austrailiens’, creating the mini Ronald Weasly, having a fear of periods, and finally, being a Mary Sue. The penalty is death. Any last words?”
The Sue spit in Orken’s face. “Traitors! You were supposed to be my guards!”
Thomas laughed. “I should’ve also charged you with being stupid enough to fall for that, dude. Orky?” He turned Tommy away from his partner. “Don’t look, dude.”
Orken quickly slit the Sue’s throat, getting glittery blood all over the sand and himself. “All done, Agent Thomas.”
“Anything else you need to do, dude?” Thomas was looking at Ilraen.
“We may wish to neuralyze Alan Blunt and Mister Smithers, since they came in contact with Alyssa,” Ilraen said. “Or at least make certain they are in character now.”
“Good idea, dude. Orky?”
Orken stood up, wiping his glittery knife off on his pants, making a note to wash them later. “I’ll take care of it.” He portaled off the beach.
“Hmmm . . . ” said Thomas, contemplating what to do with the Sue. He thought for a couple minutes, before Tommy tugged on his hand.
“Can me look now?” It seemed that even with the Sue gone, his annoying speech patterns remained.
Thomas shook his head. “Not yet, dude. Stay here.” He’d been trying to think of something more creative, but this would have to work. “Ilraen, do you mind if I borrow your RA? Orken has ours.”
“Certainly. I will watch the boy.” He traded his remote activator for Tommy’s hand. “You know,” he addressed the child, “it is better to say ‘can I’ instead of ‘can me’ when asking a question. Why don’t you try it?”
Thomas opened a portal to the uncreative backup solution he had come up with. The exploding Ark Angel space station would do an adequate job of destroying the Sue’s body. He searched the Sue, grabbing her necklace before throwing her through the portal.
Shortly after that, Orken arrived back from his neuralyzations. “That should be it. I think we can go.”
Thomas was rooting through the Sue’s and Alex’s extra-canonical trunks, pulling out the gadgets, as well as the guns. He slung the generic sniper rifle across his back. “Dude! This is going to look great on the wall. We done here?”
Orken opened a portal, before turning to Ilraen. “Ilraen. It was a pleasure to work with you. I . . . was out of line to argue with you like I did. You were only concerned for my partner. I am . . . sorry.”
“I did overreact,” Ilraen replied, smiling sheepishly at Thomas in the disconcerting manner he had before facing Orken again.
Thomas returned the smile, his being far more real-looking and far less unsettling.
“In any case,” Ilraen went on, “the Flower-Princes assigned a Yeerk and an Andalite on a mission together. If we didn’t fight at least once, Legal would surely be upset.” He grinned, which was even worse.
Orken stuck out his hand, and Ilraen took it. “Perhaps next time we won’t fight.”
Thomas had a sudden thought. “Uh, dudes, as much as I like the whole ‘former enemies making up’ deal, what ever happened to the two Valas?”
As if on cue, there was a thumping sound from the Sue’s trunk. Pulling a robe off of her head, the miniature Vala pulled herself up and over the side. She looked very pissed, and so did the miniature Aeryn who climbed out behind her. This one pulled an equally miniature pulse pistol out of a holster at her hip and aimed it at Thomas’ eyes.
“All right,” she squeaked, “somebody had better start talking, now.”
She was very serious, deadly serious, in fact, but with that voice it was no wonder Tommy started giggling, and Ilraen had to take his hand back in order to mask his own amusement.
“Look at her! She’s so cute and angry!” said Thomas with a goofy look on his face.
Orken rolled his eyes. “She’s pointing a gun at you, Agent Thomas.”
“So? It’s so little. Like her!”
The mini-Vala looked up at the “giant” agents with amusement. “You know, I like my men big, but this is ridiculous. Would any of you care to explain what is going on?”
“Um,” Ilraen began as he often did when suddenly placed on the spot. “You see, you were brought here because someone wrote a story and used a word that does not exist, and so the Word World had to find something to fulfill the apparent meaning. I’m sorry you were treated as luggage,” he added, scuffing one foot in the sand under tiny!Aeryn’s unimpressed stare. “But we can take you someplace better.” Tiny!Aeryn was even less impressed. “And prove everything.”
Finally, she put the weapon away. “Fine. It’s too insane to be a lie.”
Orken nodded. “Excellent. If you don’t mind taking care of these two, and the child, of course, we will be going.” Before Ilraen could say anything, Orken had stepped through a portal. Thomas gave Ilraen and apologetic look. “He does that, dude. You need any help?”
“In fact, yes. You still have my remote activator.”
Thomas’ face turned red when he realized he had almost stranded Ilraen. “Uh, sorry, dude.” He handed over the remote activator. The portal Orken had opened began making threatening sputtering noises. “See you around!” Thomas said as he hopped through.
“It was nice meeting—” Ilraen called before the portal closed. “—you.”
Two Austrailiens, a mini-Aragog, and a boy all looked up expectantly at him. He sighed. Apparently this was how the multiverse rewarded agents who thought they were ready for more responsibility. Ilraen had never seen a public service announcement, but just then he could have written one. Nume was going to kill him.
So, despite the fact that it took about six months to get this mission out (during the beta phase, Guvnor had summer camp and I had a wedding and then a honeymoon), it was a lot of fun to do, and it was interesting getting Ilraen out of Nume’s shadow for once. What does Nume do with his free time? Check out “Cosmic Love” to find out!
This is the first time I’ve used a title for the mission that’s different from that of the badfic, but in this case I’m keeping consistent with Guvnor’s spin-off. I’ve hosted the mission here, but I’m the guest in this story.
Incidentally, we know the “Austrailiens” joke is a little obscure. Try Googling Vala Mal Doran, Aeryn Sun, and Claudia Black for more information.
Edit (03.03.12): Guvnor and I ended up less than satisfied with certain elements of this mission, so a fair bit of retooling was done to the dialogue, especially regarding O’Neil the mini-Unas and the fight between the three agents. Also, we found out “saloon” is actually a legitimate British term for a sedan, so we couldn’t keep the part where we made fun of it. Alas.
Guvnor’s Notes: Fun fact: in the Alex Rider series, the Harry Potter books exist. (Point Blanc, or Point Blank, depending on where you live, has one used as a knockout-dart launcher.) That leads to an odd meta spin on this mission. It also adds to the implausibility of the crossover. I’d also like to point out that there are what look like three large charges we missed, but do not fear, as these charges are all based on information from the last book of the Alex Rider series, which came out after the last update on this fic.