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deepfriedtwinkie · 7 years

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Kingsman: A Trainee’s Mission (Pt. III)

PREQUEL FIC, this section ~1,800w

pt. I | pt. II

At six a.m. sharp, Harry has already been awake for precisely a quarter hour. He’s done a full stretch routine, made up his bunk, and by the time the piped-in sound of Big Ben’s gong resonates to wake the others, he’s on his way back from the sinks, swinging his toothbrush in a plastic sandwich bag.

“Fucking Christ.” Punctuating himself with a yawn to rival any zoo lion, Hamish leaps directly to the floor, apparently no fan of the concept of ladders. “I love waking up like I slept under a bridge in fucking Westminster.”

“Could be worse,” Harry poses. “I was anticipating a bugle, myself.”

“Oh, no, you’re right, that’d definitely be worse.”

“See? Perspective will get you everywhere.”

Then Hamish scrutinizes him. “How long’ve you been up and about, anyway?”

“Oh, only a bit.” Experience has taught him specifics can be obnoxious; he’s got to save something for later. “Habit, honestly.”

“I see. Can I ask a question?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“You’re one of those irritatingly-overprepared types, aren’t you?”

“Quite, yes.”

Hamish’s brow does a hop. “Fair enough. At least you’re forward about it.”

He takes that as a compliment. “Thank you.”

They seem to notice the parcels at the same time. There are two of them stacked at the foot of every lower bunk, each one a thick square of material resembling Burberry, folded crisply, bundled up with twine.

Hamish cuts the strings with a scouts’ knife from his pocket—Did you sleep the whole night with that there?—and each of them take possession of the article with their initials on the tag, holding them out. They fall away into jumpsuits. That’s what they are. Collared, belted jumpsuits. Harry’s in a khaki color, and Hamish’s in some sort of teal.

“We must be meant to put these on.” Logic quickly replaces his momentary pang of disappointment. Surely it’d be impossible to train properly in a full Kingsman Tailors’ bespoke suit. They must get those later. These will more than do for the time being.

He retreats to the corner to change while Hamish is still inspecting both sides of his garment. “Fetching. I’m just looking for the nappies that go with it.”

“Oh, come on, now, it’s not all that bad.”

“More perspective?”

Harry expertly buttons his way up the row, grinning in advance at his own wit. “Enticement, actually. The sooner you’ve got it on, the sooner I can procure blackmail photos.”

“Over my dead body.”

“How convenient; you’ve already got somewhere to put it.”

Hamish chucks the twine at him.

In minutes, everyone is dressed, and the sixteen of them file their way outdoors. Harry strives to take in everything in sight. It’s his first time seeing the grounds in their entirety, or at all, for that matter, given he’d arrived last night via underground shuttle from the tailor shop. He presumes the same must be true for the others.

The compound, on first impression, is absolutely sprawling, encompassing what could pass for a sea of open field, manicured precisely enough to be ready for a sporting match of any kind. The estate itself stands steadfastly in the middle of it all like a nineteenth-century castle, or at the very least, a fine manor of nobility. More striking than anything, the center of the lawn is marked with the same emblem as the weaponry, the technology, and the jumpsuits they wear now: a white circle bearing the mark of a horizontal K. Four men could camp on it, easily.

It’s the last he notices of the scenery. Up ahead, over a queue of shoulders, he sees his immediate new favorite thing in the world. A wall of sixteen metal cages, each one containing the sweetest, most precious little puppy.

“Oh God, would you look at that!” Rather unprofessionally, he’s slapping Hamish’s arm. It’s a miracle he remembers himself and doesn’t bolt off to tell them all they’re beautiful. Because they are. “Do you think it’s possible they’re for us?”

“I think it’s possible you’re something else,” Hamish says affably.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” projects Arthur from the balcony, the moment they’re assembled in line. “I’m quite pleased with your punctuality.”

Yes, yes, get on with it, for God’s sake, get to the dogs. Already, there’s a little fuzzy one looking straight at him. Oh gosh, he wagged his tail.

“As most of you came within a childlike shriek of failing your first task, the emphasis imparted by your next assignment will be especially vital. Teamwork in all things is no less than utterly tantamount to your success—and your survival—in the Kingsman line of work. Precisely why, in a moment, you will all come forward and select one of these puppies for yourselves.”

Harry’s resting pulse replicates a hyperactive ten-year-old’s. Yes! Let us at them, then; I’ll break the wanker’s arm who beats me to the little one–

“Your puppies will shadow you twenty-four hours a day. You will be wholly responsible for their care and keeping. You will train them as Kingsman trains you. Ideally, by the end of the program, both you and your dog will have reached your peak potential. If not, well. At least you’ll have done something worthwhile with your time.”

Are you quite through!? Fall out, fall out, say it!

“Everyone choose your puppy.”

Bloody good enough! Harry barges forward, the first to reach the cages. Frankly he’d have no problem lying on the ground and letting all sixteen of the milk-bellied things scuttle all over him, but this is the one he wants. This scruffy little terrier, quite obviously a runt, whose pleading eyes alone could melt the polar ice caps.

He lifts the latch and draws open the cage, first coaxing the tiny fellow forward for an introductory sniff, then gently clasping him between his hands. “Oh, hello, sweetheart,” he whispers, scooping the puppy into his arms. He’s a lump of warm fluff against his chest, warm fluff with the softest ears in the entire world. “Hello there! Oh, it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you. Yes, it is. Oh, yes.”

The pup’s going about the business of sniffing his jumpsuit when Hamish reappears, leash in hand. Harry’s eyes trace it down to a puddled little dog who’s just tripped belly-up on her own lead. By this point, whatever torture their training entails, he’s confident he’ll sail right the hell through it, high on these mental images alone.

“What’s that one?” Hamish asks.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a terrier of some kind. I don’t care. He likes me.” His face hasn’t unscrewed from borderline certifiable joy since they first fell in. “Yours?”

“Bloodhound.” He sounds chuffed with himself, giving a shrug. “I figure it’s right there in the name. Best dog for the job.”

“May I?”

“Certainly.”

Harry crouches, very careful with his own new friend, freeing a hand to stroke the baby bloodhound’s tummy. He has to laugh at the floppy little jowls; she’s almost more roll than dog. “Isn’t she a droopy girl?”

A recruit behind him snorts. “If that isn’t the last thing you want to hear at the disco.”

“Fuck off, Winston.” The prat’s deserved it since turndown last night, when he’d bragged to the room about his father’s yacht in the Aegean. It’s rather satisfying, honestly. Just as quickly as he spat his venom, he’s back to making friends. “Hello, princess! Aren’t we a gorgeous little dog? Oh, yes we are. Yes, we are.”

It’s his proximity to the ground that does it. For a split second, lavishing Hamish’s pup with affection, his hold on his own is too loose. Just long enough for the miniscule mutt to squirm free, barreling across the grounds like a pistol shot. Harry stands and whirls in time to see Winston’s dog take off after him, yanking the lead from his hand.

Oh, fuck.

Both of them burst into a sprint.

“Just fuckin’ perfect, isn’t it! Fuck you and your fucking dog, Oxford!” Winston shouts.

“Oh, you know damned well we’re both out of your league!”

“Oi, you get back here, dog! Bad dog!”

“Here boy! Heel!”

The puppies are headed straight for a picnic blanket in the distance. The unsuspecting victim is a man lounged at its center, reading from a manila folder in one hand, eating a sandwich with the other—and more to the point, wearing a bespoke suit, which officially classifies this as Very, Very Bad.

“Fucking hell—excuse me, Sir? Pardon me!”

The agent turns around just in time for Winston’s Doberman to snatch the sandwich from his hand. Harry’s terrier makes off with the only food left on the blanket: a spear of pickle.

The chase ends as quickly as it began. Both puppies brake under a tree, sprawling out to munch their spoils. Harry and Winston stagger to a stop in front of the displeased agent, arms now crossed, looking like he’d love to serve both of their hides at high tea with a bit of Marmite.

“What in the devil is the meaning of this?” the agent demands. “Two minutes into the goddamned task and you idiots can’t manage to keep hold of a fucking puppy?”

It’s only the third agent he’s met, and already his first impression success ratio is horribly imbalanced. Luckily there’s always a way to recover. Harry stands crisp at attention, hands folded behind his back, and he covers all signs of exertion with his most winning smile.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir…”

“Sir Tristan, that’s all the likes of you need to know.”

Head hung, Winston mumbles, “Sorry, Chester.”

The sigh and eye-roll from Chester-Alias-Tristan are monumentous. He points toward the tree with a rigid arm. “Just go and get the dog, you fucking imbecile.” As Winston trudges off, Chester mutters something else under his breath, something about having better luck had he proposed a grapefruit, but Harry decides it would be found too ungentlemanly to mention that.

“Can I replace your meal for you, sir? I’d be quite happy to.”

“No, thank you. I’m just in from a sixteen-hour flight, and quite frankly, I have already had enough of you infants’ bollocks for one day. Now I suggest you collect your rat and piss off, before I report you to Arthur for incompetence.”

Tugging his lapels, Chester takes leave in a huff, whisking up his blanket. Winston is already gone. With a deep exhale, Harry approaches the shade of the tree, smiling fondly at his puppy, who’s successfully gnawed the pickle down to half.

As he picks him up, he makes sure to bring the hard-won prize along, cradling both thief and snack, starting back toward the group. “Good boy,” he whispers, and presses a kiss to his fur.

#Kingsman #Harry Hart #Agent Merlin #Kingsman: The Secret Service #Kingsman: The Golden Circle #fanfic #oh look Aud did a thing

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astrologycity · 7 years

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Zodiac Wars VI

NOW

“What would you call aliens?” Sag asked Virgo from across the floor.

“They don’t exist.”

“Okay but if they did, what would you call them?”

“They’d probably already have their own name. Like Ophiuchus. But why do you want to know what I’d call them, when you could ask about how I’d imagine them?”

Sag shrugged. “It’s more interesting I guess. Everyone imagines aliens the same way, but no one thinks about what we’d call them,” she smiled. “Ophiuchus, huh? That’s a stupid name.”

“It’s as good as ‘Sagittarius’ then.”

“But even ‘Sagittarius’ isn’t as good as ‘Virgo’.”

“Shut up,” Virgo smiled slightly. Suddenly, Sag heard a loud knock on the door.

“I’ll be right back,” she said and got up.

“Don’t come back, please,” Virgo responded smiling. Sag opened the door and left, then gently closing it behind her. Leo was standing outside.

“Hey Leo! What are you doing down here? Did Aries send you?”

“No… actually I have no idea where Aries is–”

“So what’s the occasion? Did you miss me?” Sag laughed.

“Not even a bit. I actually came down here because Libra and I, we had a betting game, and I lost–”

“What did you bet on? Need me to do it?”

“Actually, it’s not something you can do,” Leo bit her lip. “I am– how do you say it? Ugh I can’t do it. Please don’t hate me for this.” Leo grabbed Sag by the waist and pressed her lips against hers. She let go, and said, “I’m sorry.” Sag stood confused, as Leo walked backwards.

“Okay, so she wanted you to kiss me?” Sag asked finally in the silence. “You could’ve just asked, no need to be awkward about it.”

“No. I wasn’t supposed to kiss you– I just really, really like you. I said it, there.”

“Oh,” Sag took a step back, “uhhhm, let’s pretend this never happened? Look I’m sorry, but I can’t– I don’t want to do relationships. I don’t feel that way about you. I don’t want to be in a relationship. You’re one of my closest friends, but we can’t be anything more. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I guessed you could never feel the same way. Yeah forget about it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just not the person for you,” Sag looked down. She wanted to leave right now– she couldn’t take this pressure.

“I get it.” Sag watched Leo walked back and away. She quickly re-entered the room with Virgo and shut the door. There was no way she could ever date Leo, and she could never feel that way about her. She loved her as a friend. And even so, she couldn’t bring herself to be in a relationship, because she was scared. She was scared to trust anyone in that way.

“Is everything okay?” Virgo asked her.

“It’s fine,” Sag sat down quietly. She was glad that she wasn’t allowed to leave this room, because at the moment, she didn’t want to see anyone, least of all, Leo.

SEVERAL WEEKS AGO

“I’ll pay,” Virgo took out his wallet as Cap was about to reach for hers.

“Wouldn’t you want to split the check?” Cap raised an eyebrow.

“We’re on a date,” Virgo said, “and I would like to pay for you.”

“It’s only the second date.”

“I’m still paying.” Cap put the wallet back in her pocket, as Virgo reached searched for the exact money. He left it on the small metal plate, and left a small tip before putting his wallet away.

“Thank you for coming on a second date with me,” Virgo smiled and took Cap’s hand. She laughed and took his.

“So what’s it like, working for Scorpio? She’s at the top of everything, must be fun.”

“It’s alright, I mean sure the office is fancy and all, but I’m doing something I like so it’s okay.”

“You say it so simply. I would love to be in your place,” Cap smiled.

“Maybe you could work with me sometime,” Virgo smiled and got up, “let’s go?” Cap nodded and put on her jacket. Virgo watched as she carefully pulled out her shoulder length, brown hair from her coat, looking what to him felt like a goddess. She put on her woven hat, and they headed out. It was during the winter, and a light layer of snow covered the ground. The trees in the surrounded were too coated with white. Virgo took Cap by the hand and pulled her close, with an appreciation for her warmth in the cold. As they walked, he could hear the snow crunching between their shoes, and felt a small amount of satisfaction to hear that their steps were in sync.

“What do you want to do now?” Virgo asked her shyly.

“Not you, that’s for sure,” Cap laughed.

“Shut up,” Virgo smiled slightly.

“How about we go home, and watch a movie together? It’s the perfect weather.”

“Sure. Would you like me to make you hot chocolate too?”

“I’d love it.” They walked over to Virgo’s car and he opened the door for Cap. She got in and he closed the door, then got in from his side. He looked over at Cap before turning on the car. She had her head down, and she seemed cold.

“Is everything okay?” Virgo asked her.

“I’m fine,” Cap smiled. “Just cold.”

“I’ll turn on the car then.” He started driving. With Cap by his side, in the moment, there was nowhere he’d rather be.

NOW

Aries stood quietly behind the tree as he kept his eyes on Cap. He watched as another two other figures approached her.

“Hey Gemini, hey Pisces,” she said to the figures.

“Weren’t you supposed to get Virgo by now?” Gemini asked.

“Yes, but had some trouble. I’m getting there. What are you up to?”

“We’re placing cameras everywhere, like a security system,” he smiled.

“How’s Scorpio doing?” Cap asked him.

“She’s good. She’s going along with all of our plans so it’s good.”

“That’s great. It won’t be long before we overthrow her,” Cap responded. “I’ve been plotting for years to take her place.”

“Seriously?” Pisces adjusted his glasses, “why have you been plotting for so long?”

“Because she can’t lead,” Cap frowned, “she’s too scared to do anything. And she’d never hurt them, not with Cancer around. And something needs to be done about everyone who is with them.”

“What if Virgo joins them?” Gemini asked.

“Then he dies to,” Cap whispered softly. Aries suspected she wasn’t being fully truthful.

“Yeah but you said that you only dated him to get close to Scorpio didn’t you? I mean that was the plan. Anyways, see you,” Pisces said, and continued walking with Gemini. Aries waited for them to leave before following Capricorn. Suddenly, Cap stood still, and Aries lunged at the unsuspecting victim, pinning her to the ground.

“I thought you were dating Virgo,” he smiled, “sneaky huh? Thought you loved him.”

“I do.”

“What about that thing with Scorpio?” Aries asked curiously.

“That was only at first. It all changed when I actually realised how great he was.”

“Too bad the only thing you’re good at is lying,” Aries smiled and tied her up. “Anyways, you’ll see him soon enough.”

“You may think I’m an asshole, but Virgo is the only person I care about,” Cap said.

“Must be because he’s the only one you haven’t betrayed,” Aries said tying Cap’s eyes.

“I don’t betray people. I just work alone.”

“There’s a difference between working alone, and breaking people’s trusts.”

“I wouldn’t ever break Virgo’s trust. I love him.” Aries picked up Cap, who was now all tied up. He was glad she stopped resisting him; it made his job easier. But then again, pushing people emotionally always made them physically weaker.

#zodiac wars #any comments?#thank you for all the positive feedback so far!

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