This is the first in a series we're choosing to call "The Enforcer
Babes." The tale of two Enforcers, Sonia and Meg. Their mission: to
protect Toronto's Community from itself.
Disclaimers : We own not FK, we own not Toronto, but we have some gum, if
you want...
Permission to archive granted to the DP, Mel and the Enforcers, all
others ask first (or suffer our wrath! *eg*)
Ready Or Not
By: Shana Nolan and Cousin Mary (Jenkins)
"Hi, honey, we're home!" Sonia sang out as threw open the front door of
their new apartment.
"God Sonia, perky much?" Meg followed her in, happy to see their things
had already been brought up. "I don't see how, after a ten hour flight,
you can be so damn chipper."
"Caffiene." The brunette grinned.
"What? You drain a star Buck?" Meg cracked, pulling her sweat shirt off
and tossing it into a corner... two minutes and the place already had
that lived in look.
"Well, if you -have- to ask..." An evil grin lit her blue eyes with an
unnatural light. Them, meandering over to the kitchen counter and
perching on it, she picked at a tooth with a fingernail, "I -did-
disappear for a few minutes, non?" Her eyes flashed gold.
"Did you? I didn't notice..." Meg just shrugged, knowing her friend was
kidding. Neither of them would risk the Code for a quick buzz, no matter
how much they needed it. Deciding it was better not to encourage Sonny
anymore, Meg turned her attention to what would be their home for the
next ten years... or at least until the Council forgave them and let them
return to Paris and the Court. "Oh geez, will you look at this place?!
What a dump!"
"The cobwebs or the chalk outline on the floor?" Sonia eyed the orange
and brown shag carpet with disdain. Oh what she wouldn't give to be back
in the marble halls of Court, back in her beloved archives, pouring over
the books she'd, quite literally, kill to get her hands on again.
"They actually expect us to live here?" Meg groaned, swiping a foot
across the floor, erasing a chalk head. So much for the slap on the wrist
she'd hoped for, it looked like the Council had really meant it!
"Smells... ugh, open a window, maybe we can air it out before dawn."
"Good plan." Sonia nodded, then paused, "Um... you have noticed that
there are no blinds, right?"
"Damn." Meg raked a hand through her short blonde hair, causing the thin
strands to stand up at static-electric attention. "No problem, I brought
aluminum foil. It'll work for now."
"Excellent. We'll get the real things tomorrow night." Sonia quickly
lost interest in Meg's taping and started poking around their 'furnished'
apartment. 'Furnished in neoclassic-Keith Partrige,' Sonia silently
cracked. Fighting the nearly over-powering urge to find an all-night
interior designer and order black velvet curtaining ASAP, Sonia continued
looking around their new home. Her eyes fell on a book. "Hey, look, a
'Welcome to Toronto' Guide!"
Meg looked over her shoulder with a 'so?' expression and then went back
to her taping.
Thumbing through it idly, Sonia raised an eyebrow. "Gee, Meg, I'm struck
by the urge to do touristy things... Seeing the sites. Doing the museum
circuit. Eat a few tourists. Ya know, normal stuff."
Recalling a rainy day in a Paris cafe and the following three-hour
grilling by the Council after her friend's -last- sightseeing excursion,
Meg shook her blonde head. "No eating the tourists... at least not yet."
Finishing the taping, she wandered over and poked her nose into the small
kitchen. "You know what?"
"What?" Sonia absently flipped a few more pages, eyeing the ad for the
garlic faire with macabre interest.
"This place really won't be so--" She paused, squishing a cockroach as it
skittered by, "Bad once we get some non-Brady Bunch furniture in here."
The brunette's look was hopeful. "Oh, you mean they're bringing the
chains tomorrow?"
"Guide book you say? Anything interesting?" Meg asked, finally catching
up with the conversation. "Hey, look up 'vampire hang-outs,' lets see if
the guys in this town really are as indiscreet as the Council says."
"Hmmm. Paparazzi? Too boring." Sonia continued flipping, "The Polka
Swing Club? I'd rather play in a London sewer..."
"Hey! I like the sewers in London!" Meg crossed her arms in a pose of
mock outrage. "The ones in Paris are better though. Can get lost for
days..." She smiled evilly then, "Can lose people for longer than that
even..."
Sonia shrugged and kept reading, she was much more of the
wall-them-behind-a-winery-wall-type. "Hey... the Raven... haven't you
been sent there before?"
"No, that was the Falcon, in Sydney." Meg corrected, opening and closing
cupboards in a vain search for something, anything, interesting,
"Remember? I told you about those carouche drag queens?"
Pausing to keep herself from humming Abba's 'Dancing Queen,' Sonia
nodded. "Oh, yeah. The psycho-rat-eater-sequin-lovers... my mistake."
"The Raven?" Meg paused in her quest to make as much noise in the
kitchen as possible, "That -can't- be a Community bar, way too obvious.
Probably just some silly teen goth club."
Sonia wrinkled her nose, "A place that waters down the drinks and all..."
"Hmm... gimme that." Snatching the book from her friend and receiving a
snarl for it, Meg opened the guide to a different section. Her eyes went
wide with glee. "Hey! Look at all the churches!"
"Oh geez...." Sonia rubbed her temples and meandered over to a
particularly heavy box, she knew her friend too well, "Now I'm never
going to see the museums..."
Holding the book aloft and being skillfully ignored as Sonia dug for her
swords, Meg grinned, "Look! Saint Simon's, Saint Samone's, Saint
Peter's!" Then her green eyes went as round as saucers, "Oh, Our Holy
Mother of the Perpetual Sorrow!" She let out a squeal of joy.
"Uh-huh, and next thing ya know you'll be draggin' me into the local Mary
cult to steal holy water..." Sonia sneered.
"Mary cult?" Meg repeated with a giggle. "Oh, give it up Sonny! It's
been an established religion for quite a bit now... Besides, we -so-
need more holy water... " She looked a bit guilty then, "My last flask
broke on the plane. In, uh, your luggage actually."
"Oh... goody." Recalling the time when she was liberally doused in aqua
vitae by overzealous pilgrims, the brunette faked a smile.
"It'll wash out, I know it bothers you." Meg told her.
The response was anything but perky. "So glad to hear it." Setting down
the sword in her hand and digging further into the crate, "I wonder
where the garlic got packed... " She mumbled under her breath, quite
aware that her friend could hear her.
"Don't know -why- though, it's kinda fun if you ask me." The blonde
continued conversationally.
"Burning skin? Screaming nerves? Fun?" Sonia unbraided her long hair
almost violently, dragging her nails through it to separate the curls.
"Um, yes?" Meg looked slightly abashed, but then her expression turned
dreamy, "All those lovely red welts..."
"If you wanted pain..." Sonia said, twisting her hair up into a bun
before re-grabbing her sword and checking the balance, "I could have
brought the Iron Maiden along... But of course customs wouldn't let it
through..." She trailed off with a frown.
"Iron Maiden?" Meg made a face, deliberately missing the point. "I told
you, none of your damn heavy metal hair bands! Ugh."
"Moi?" Sonia asked, the picture of innocence.
Her mind now on music, or specifically the apartment's lack there of, Meg
started searching through a few more of the boxes that littered the
floor, "Where is the CD player anyway?"
"Next to the stakes." Shaking her head knowing that even though she was a
religion aficionado, her young friend had no appreciation for medieval
torture devices.
"I don't see it," Meg told her, sounding all of two years old.
"It's underneath your Shroud of Turin beach towel." Sonia rolled her
eyes at that. Really, who ever heard of a religion obsessed vampire?
And not just a vampire, an Enforcer! Sure Meg was her best friend, but
as a partner in the serious business of upholding the Code, she left a
lot to be desired.
"Which crate are the stakes in?" Meg asked, prying open another box and
finding the stereo. "Ah, soothing sounds of 'Gleeful Blasphemy.'" She
grinned, then looked down into the box once more, "Oops, here's that box
you were looking for."
"Um... the box marked Royal Museum of London?" Sonia moved to snatch it
away from her, but Meg yanked it back. "I just borrowed that..."
"Hey, where'd you get this?" Meg asked suspiciously, eyeing the box with
interest, she quickly ripped open the thin cardboard and out slid a thin
dark red leather bound book, "And don't say the Museum, I'm not that
clueless."
"Fine," Sonia sighed, "It's our official log, I'm supposed to write down
our reports in it."
"Oh," Meg started to hand it to her, then yanked it back, "Hey! How come
you get one and I don't? Doesn't the Council trust me?"
Sonia just gave her a look.
"Oh, yeah, right," Meg shrugged and handed it over.
"Well," Sonia slid the book into her pocket and quickly changed the
subject, "It's almost dawn. Guess we should decide who gets what
bedroom."
"You can pick first," Meg yawned, "Doesn't matter to me."
"Okay," Sonia chose one at random and waved good night, "Sweet dreams
Meg."
"Uh huh," The blonde nodded, taking one last peak out the windows before
putting the final piece of foil up. She smiled slightly, thinking that
just maybe this assignment wouldn't be too bad. After all, this city had
never before needed the full time surveillance, so chances are it really
didn't now either. The Council had just wanted to keep them busy and out
of Paris after the 'incident.' Meaning her and Sonia should have plenty
of time to goof off.
"Well Toronto, we're here." She whispered with a smirk, "Ready or not."
To be continued... Bwhahahahaha!
>>>>>>>>>>
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