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kaigouEheheh. Okay, so some of this won't make sense without the AX experience, but hopefully it'll come together even if you weren't there with the madness at the Marriot patio. See, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thejennabides and windsorblue were going on about how there's no prison fic for Trowa & Quatre, and somehow this merged with my commentary on Jock Sturges being arrested a few years back for taking photographs of young children at a nudist beach in France -- Sturges, by the way, is one of the most amazing artisans when it comes to light and shadow across bodies, such that you don't even notice the bodies, only the play of light across muscles and skin, and it's not prurient, but beautiful. Anyway. Somehow all that segued into me announcing that what our fandom really needs is prison fic...about sharona1x2 and klingonpoo, of whom at least one of the pair was sitting right there looking baffled.
And since at Otakon I once wrote a fic purposefully to tweak Sharon & haven't repeated that again despite intending to, and last year I'd just written fic for Leslie, I guess it's time to put them together...in a cell. With binoculars. And something really worth sticking around to watch...
Zero squinted through the binoculars, and lowered them long enough to wipe at that last crust of insistent cake frosting that wouldn't go away. Beside her, Dog whispered something so low that the security pickups would miss it under the ambient noise of the women's prison.
"Rag," Dog said.
"Here." Zero picked up the hand towel, and Dog wiped her mouth before handing it back. "Now you know I'm right."
"Didn't believe you before, but I'm convinced now." Dog never lowered the binoculars, and barely even moved except to fiddle with the resolution to keep their prey in sight. "That's definitely a braid under the shirt."
"I can spot that at twenty yards," Zero replied, proud, and a little smug. "Where's Heero?"
"Over on the other side. Doing..." Dog gasped, then sighed, long and low. "Pull-ups. Shirtless."
"What?" Zero ignored the camera swiveling in her direction, and raised the binoculars. "You didn't say anything," she muttered, not even moving her lips. "Are they even talking?"
"Not that I can tell." Dog gave Zero a quick grin; they'd become masters at conversing with hardly a sound, and no outer indication of their discussions.
They'd gotten used to puzzled looks from the guards, and since that last incident with the guard disparaging Duo Maxwell, none of the rest of the guards had said a word to them, which was just fine. It gave them more time to spy on the men's prison, ask repeated questions neither could answer, and plot what they'd do if they had better access to the men's prison. So far, neither had many ideas, but their frustration was partially alleviated by the fact that both objects of their scrutiny seemed to spend a great deal of time outside, in the southern yard of the men's prison.
"Heero's not even looked his way." Zero pursed her lips, gaze moving between the two men. "Was that a look from Duo?"
"I don't think so. No, it's a fight, nine o'clock, he's moving to break it up—"
"Look at that form!" Zero sighed. "Did you see that move?"
"If only these binoculars had recording capabilities!"
"Think of the money we could make on ebay."
Both women were silent for a moment, thinking about selling off their precious stolen time observing the two legendary pilots.
Zero looked at Dog, and Dog looked at Zero; both said at the exact same instant, "Naw."
------
The warden was a decent man, overworked and underpaid; the prosecutor, a red-headed firebrand who'd achieved assistant D.A. in her early twenties. The other assembled authorities sat at the decrepit folding table while the two prisoners were brought in. The conditions of their parole were read to them, and Warden Dutton did his best to impress upon the two women that if they'd been rehabilitated, they might be freed with only minimal, weekly, supervision. Then they could go back to their lives and their crazy cult-ways, and he could go back to a prison full of normal women who didn't obsessively watch out their windows on an almost-around-the-clock basis.
"Ms. Fan, Ms. Poo, I don't believe you're violent people, and you've been exemplary prisoners—"
"Except for the eardrum incident," Prosecutor Kushrenada murmured.
"Ah, yes, well, we're willing to overlook that, as adjustment to prison life is hard for everyone," Dutton replied. The world would be so much easier if everyone got along. Then he could work less overtime, and spend more time bowling. Maybe when he retired. Ten more years, and he was counting the days. "If you'd be willing to explain to us your regret about your conviction, and your&mdash"
"Nope." Zero crossed her arms and looked away.
"Excuse me?" Dutton straightened the papers before him nervously, then picked them up and tapped them against the table before laying them down again. "Ms. Poo, did you—"
"Nope." Dog smiled, but it was a rather scary smile, all things considered.
Dutton blinked.
"We shouldn't be allowed out," Zero announced. "You never know. We might find fifteen year-old boys of our own—"
"Or twenty-five," Dog interrupted, but didn't explain, and Zero barely paused.
"—And incite them into pornographic acts with other fifteen-year-old boys." Zero narrowed her eyes. "We're ticking time bombs."
"We've not been rehabilitated," Dog added, helpfully. Her smile didn't get any less scary.
"I see." Dutton glanced at the prosecutor, who rolled her eyes. He looked the other way, at the two guards staring at the women prisoners with something akin to fear and a little bit of dislike. One of the guards had a button that said IXR. Dutton wondered if the guard had converted to a cult, as well, but before he could question the guard about her violations of the dress code, Zero followed his gaze to study the guard as well.
"That's all in the past," Zero announced, and Dutton wondered what kind of undercurrents he was missing. "Oh-one may have once had a crush, but he knows where his heart belongs—"
"She's a princess!" the guard burst out, to Dutton's shock.
"Synco! What are you—"
"Pay her no mind," Zero soothed, now smiling with a strangely wicked smile much like Dog's. "Just let us go back to our cell and we'll pretend like none of this happened."
The guard paled, and Dutton frowned. "Now, ladies, I can't—"
"Any minute," Dog intoned. "There are fifteen year-olds all over the country. And you never know what our story-pimping might do if we sucked them into our clutches. You never know."
Dutton wisely decided to let the women have their way. He gave orders to keep Synco and her peculiar cult button out of the prisoners' sight, and made notes to arrange for the court to consider the prison's request that the women be transferred to an institution better equipped to deal with their peculiarities. Prosecutor Kushrenada was wrong; the women weren't on drugs, they were just plumb crazy.
-----
"We need to do something," Zero said, later that evening as they observed, once again, Heero exercising in the yard under Duo's watchful eye, but the two men never spoke to each other. "I refuse to believe Heero is in prison for any good reason."
"We're in prison for no good reason," Dog replied. She paused, frowned, and added, "although we're in prison now for a good reason."
"Exactly. We can't leave until we get them together."
"And get pictures."
Both women nodded firmly. The GW02 supporters hadn't been that forthcoming with video cameras or even still cameras, not after getting the news that Dog and Zero had refused to accept parole. Although a few in the crowd believed Zero's and Dog's coded messages about 01 and 02 in the neighboring men's prison, the fact that 02's braid was usually hidden had left more than a few in the fandom rightfully skeptical. And without cameras, there was little chance of proving them wrong.
"Then again," Dog observed thoughtfully, "at least this way we don't have to share."
"Rag," Zero ordered, sotto voice, as Heero bent over to stretch, presenting one of the better parts of his anatomy straight at their window. Zero wiped her chin, took a deep breath, and raised the binoculars back to her eyes.
It was a tough, cruel, and unthankful job, but someone had to do it. They were hardened fic-pimpers. If they couldn't take on a mission with Gundam pilots, who could?
-----
Synco wished she'd brought the button, just to remind those competing cultists that she knew the right way of things, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for anyone facing down a horde of fellow fangirls, even if there was four inches of plate glass between the prisoners and their friends. Synco had dealt with her own side of the fandom enough times to know the power of a fangirl's cry. She did her best to look uninterested and give the prisoners some privacy, but it was impossible not to overhear the desperate conversations.
"Please," one of the fangirls begged, hands clasped under her chin. "San Francisco won't be the same without you!"
"Sorry," Zero said, and smiled pleasantly. "This year I've other plans."
"But none of us have enjoyed Disney Land without you!" A tall fangirl with little rimless glasses shook her head, hands out, beseeching. "It's just not the same!"
"It'll still be there next year," Dog replied. "But I need to stay here."
"Fine, do that if you want," a petite fangirl yelled from the back. She looked sexy, but scary, like an apprentice-replica of the Zero-Dog pair. "But I'm not running your competition for you, I've got enough crap dealing with the Hagaren morons."
"And the Narutards," a bodacious girl added from over on the side, though her thick accent made it a little hard to understand at first. She scowled, and drew her shoulders back to show off her cleavage even better. "You're ditching the fandom, you realize that?"
"You left a year ago," Dog said, unperturbed. "We all need vacations."
"In jail?" An older woman with glasses shook her head. A second woman stood beside her, looking both annoyed and amused; she spent a lot of time staring closely at the cameras. Her companion wasn't done, though, and chopped the air abruptly with one hand. "You don't get it. If you don't get your asses out of there, who's going to bring the Duo when we're ready for naked plushie action? Would you leave us all entirely bereft?"
Silence fell across the group, as the entire collection of fangirls stared accusingly at the Zero-Dog pair. For the first time ever, Synco noted the two prisoners were capable of looking not only guilty, but downright abashed. Finally they sighed, and nodded their acquiescence. The fangirls high-fived, while the two prisoners waved to Synco to take them away.
"Tell the warden we'll meet with him in the morning," Zero said, quiet, almost subdued. Her tattoos winked at Synco, taunting.
"We'll be ready," Dog agreed. "And rehabilitated."
The two women exchanged a mysterious look then, but Synco had no idea of their intentions. Later she'd make a note of it in the prison files for the two women, but by then, it was too late to stop the consequences. If only she'd known the depths of their dedication to their mission, but who would've expected such risk-taking from two convicted fic-pimpers?
Oi, I scare myself sometimes.
thejennabides and windsorblue were going on about how there's no prison fic for Trowa & Quatre, and somehow this merged with my commentary on Jock Sturges being arrested a few years back for taking photographs of young children at a nudist beach in France -- Sturges, by the way, is one of the most amazing artisans when it comes to light and shadow across bodies, such that you don't even notice the bodies, only the play of light across muscles and skin, and it's not prurient, but beautiful. Anyway. Somehow all that segued into me announcing that what our fandom really needs is prison fic...about sharona1x2 and klingonpoo, of whom at least one of the pair was sitting right there looking baffled. And since at Otakon I once wrote a fic purposefully to tweak Sharon & haven't repeated that again despite intending to, and last year I'd just written fic for Leslie, I guess it's time to put them together...in a cell. With binoculars. And something really worth sticking around to watch...
Zero squinted through the binoculars, and lowered them long enough to wipe at that last crust of insistent cake frosting that wouldn't go away. Beside her, Dog whispered something so low that the security pickups would miss it under the ambient noise of the women's prison.
"Rag," Dog said.
"Here." Zero picked up the hand towel, and Dog wiped her mouth before handing it back. "Now you know I'm right."
"Didn't believe you before, but I'm convinced now." Dog never lowered the binoculars, and barely even moved except to fiddle with the resolution to keep their prey in sight. "That's definitely a braid under the shirt."
"I can spot that at twenty yards," Zero replied, proud, and a little smug. "Where's Heero?"
"Over on the other side. Doing..." Dog gasped, then sighed, long and low. "Pull-ups. Shirtless."
"What?" Zero ignored the camera swiveling in her direction, and raised the binoculars. "You didn't say anything," she muttered, not even moving her lips. "Are they even talking?"
"Not that I can tell." Dog gave Zero a quick grin; they'd become masters at conversing with hardly a sound, and no outer indication of their discussions.
They'd gotten used to puzzled looks from the guards, and since that last incident with the guard disparaging Duo Maxwell, none of the rest of the guards had said a word to them, which was just fine. It gave them more time to spy on the men's prison, ask repeated questions neither could answer, and plot what they'd do if they had better access to the men's prison. So far, neither had many ideas, but their frustration was partially alleviated by the fact that both objects of their scrutiny seemed to spend a great deal of time outside, in the southern yard of the men's prison.
"Heero's not even looked his way." Zero pursed her lips, gaze moving between the two men. "Was that a look from Duo?"
"I don't think so. No, it's a fight, nine o'clock, he's moving to break it up—"
"Look at that form!" Zero sighed. "Did you see that move?"
"If only these binoculars had recording capabilities!"
"Think of the money we could make on ebay."
Both women were silent for a moment, thinking about selling off their precious stolen time observing the two legendary pilots.
Zero looked at Dog, and Dog looked at Zero; both said at the exact same instant, "Naw."
The warden was a decent man, overworked and underpaid; the prosecutor, a red-headed firebrand who'd achieved assistant D.A. in her early twenties. The other assembled authorities sat at the decrepit folding table while the two prisoners were brought in. The conditions of their parole were read to them, and Warden Dutton did his best to impress upon the two women that if they'd been rehabilitated, they might be freed with only minimal, weekly, supervision. Then they could go back to their lives and their crazy cult-ways, and he could go back to a prison full of normal women who didn't obsessively watch out their windows on an almost-around-the-clock basis.
"Ms. Fan, Ms. Poo, I don't believe you're violent people, and you've been exemplary prisoners—"
"Except for the eardrum incident," Prosecutor Kushrenada murmured.
"Ah, yes, well, we're willing to overlook that, as adjustment to prison life is hard for everyone," Dutton replied. The world would be so much easier if everyone got along. Then he could work less overtime, and spend more time bowling. Maybe when he retired. Ten more years, and he was counting the days. "If you'd be willing to explain to us your regret about your conviction, and your&mdash"
"Nope." Zero crossed her arms and looked away.
"Excuse me?" Dutton straightened the papers before him nervously, then picked them up and tapped them against the table before laying them down again. "Ms. Poo, did you—"
"Nope." Dog smiled, but it was a rather scary smile, all things considered.
Dutton blinked.
"We shouldn't be allowed out," Zero announced. "You never know. We might find fifteen year-old boys of our own—"
"Or twenty-five," Dog interrupted, but didn't explain, and Zero barely paused.
"—And incite them into pornographic acts with other fifteen-year-old boys." Zero narrowed her eyes. "We're ticking time bombs."
"We've not been rehabilitated," Dog added, helpfully. Her smile didn't get any less scary.
"I see." Dutton glanced at the prosecutor, who rolled her eyes. He looked the other way, at the two guards staring at the women prisoners with something akin to fear and a little bit of dislike. One of the guards had a button that said IXR. Dutton wondered if the guard had converted to a cult, as well, but before he could question the guard about her violations of the dress code, Zero followed his gaze to study the guard as well.
"That's all in the past," Zero announced, and Dutton wondered what kind of undercurrents he was missing. "Oh-one may have once had a crush, but he knows where his heart belongs—"
"She's a princess!" the guard burst out, to Dutton's shock.
"Synco! What are you—"
"Pay her no mind," Zero soothed, now smiling with a strangely wicked smile much like Dog's. "Just let us go back to our cell and we'll pretend like none of this happened."
The guard paled, and Dutton frowned. "Now, ladies, I can't—"
"Any minute," Dog intoned. "There are fifteen year-olds all over the country. And you never know what our story-pimping might do if we sucked them into our clutches. You never know."
Dutton wisely decided to let the women have their way. He gave orders to keep Synco and her peculiar cult button out of the prisoners' sight, and made notes to arrange for the court to consider the prison's request that the women be transferred to an institution better equipped to deal with their peculiarities. Prosecutor Kushrenada was wrong; the women weren't on drugs, they were just plumb crazy.
"We need to do something," Zero said, later that evening as they observed, once again, Heero exercising in the yard under Duo's watchful eye, but the two men never spoke to each other. "I refuse to believe Heero is in prison for any good reason."
"We're in prison for no good reason," Dog replied. She paused, frowned, and added, "although we're in prison now for a good reason."
"Exactly. We can't leave until we get them together."
"And get pictures."
Both women nodded firmly. The GW02 supporters hadn't been that forthcoming with video cameras or even still cameras, not after getting the news that Dog and Zero had refused to accept parole. Although a few in the crowd believed Zero's and Dog's coded messages about 01 and 02 in the neighboring men's prison, the fact that 02's braid was usually hidden had left more than a few in the fandom rightfully skeptical. And without cameras, there was little chance of proving them wrong.
"Then again," Dog observed thoughtfully, "at least this way we don't have to share."
"Rag," Zero ordered, sotto voice, as Heero bent over to stretch, presenting one of the better parts of his anatomy straight at their window. Zero wiped her chin, took a deep breath, and raised the binoculars back to her eyes.
It was a tough, cruel, and unthankful job, but someone had to do it. They were hardened fic-pimpers. If they couldn't take on a mission with Gundam pilots, who could?
Synco wished she'd brought the button, just to remind those competing cultists that she knew the right way of things, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for anyone facing down a horde of fellow fangirls, even if there was four inches of plate glass between the prisoners and their friends. Synco had dealt with her own side of the fandom enough times to know the power of a fangirl's cry. She did her best to look uninterested and give the prisoners some privacy, but it was impossible not to overhear the desperate conversations.
"Please," one of the fangirls begged, hands clasped under her chin. "San Francisco won't be the same without you!"
"Sorry," Zero said, and smiled pleasantly. "This year I've other plans."
"But none of us have enjoyed Disney Land without you!" A tall fangirl with little rimless glasses shook her head, hands out, beseeching. "It's just not the same!"
"It'll still be there next year," Dog replied. "But I need to stay here."
"Fine, do that if you want," a petite fangirl yelled from the back. She looked sexy, but scary, like an apprentice-replica of the Zero-Dog pair. "But I'm not running your competition for you, I've got enough crap dealing with the Hagaren morons."
"And the Narutards," a bodacious girl added from over on the side, though her thick accent made it a little hard to understand at first. She scowled, and drew her shoulders back to show off her cleavage even better. "You're ditching the fandom, you realize that?"
"You left a year ago," Dog said, unperturbed. "We all need vacations."
"In jail?" An older woman with glasses shook her head. A second woman stood beside her, looking both annoyed and amused; she spent a lot of time staring closely at the cameras. Her companion wasn't done, though, and chopped the air abruptly with one hand. "You don't get it. If you don't get your asses out of there, who's going to bring the Duo when we're ready for naked plushie action? Would you leave us all entirely bereft?"
Silence fell across the group, as the entire collection of fangirls stared accusingly at the Zero-Dog pair. For the first time ever, Synco noted the two prisoners were capable of looking not only guilty, but downright abashed. Finally they sighed, and nodded their acquiescence. The fangirls high-fived, while the two prisoners waved to Synco to take them away.
"Tell the warden we'll meet with him in the morning," Zero said, quiet, almost subdued. Her tattoos winked at Synco, taunting.
"We'll be ready," Dog agreed. "And rehabilitated."
The two women exchanged a mysterious look then, but Synco had no idea of their intentions. Later she'd make a note of it in the prison files for the two women, but by then, it was too late to stop the consequences. If only she'd known the depths of their dedication to their mission, but who would've expected such risk-taking from two convicted fic-pimpers?
Oi, I scare myself sometimes.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 05:59 am (UTC)Ignore the icon, it lies.no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 06:50 am (UTC)*snickers*
no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 07:06 am (UTC)"—And incite them into pornographic acts with other fifteen-year-old boys." Zero narrowed her eyes. "We're ticking time bombs."
They need t-shirts that say "We're ticking time bombs". *nodnod*
no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 07:08 am (UTC)No it doesn't, you plushie!sex h0r!no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 07:14 am (UTC)Perfect read for my breakfast tea. :)
no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 08:52 am (UTC)"I can spot that at twenty yards," Zero replied, proud, and a little smug.
Hell, yeah! ^_______^
no subject
Date: 7 Jul 2006 08:47 pm (UTC)