This is something different, at least in the sense that it isn’t self contained. This is the first part of a longer work, featuring the characters from Item 19. I won’t be posting the entire work right now, partly because it isn’t done, and partly because I don’t want to overwhelm you with a giant thing that you have to scroll through. Expect Part 2 in two weeks time (October 11, 2014).
I hope you like it, because I’m going to be writing these two for a while.
Debriefs, she decided, were so much worse than ops. Even ops that went sideways on the way to going to shit. Jeanette Reese could feel the ache in her bones, the ache that could only get better with eighteen hours of uninterrupted sleep, but that was not going to happen.
Instead, she went through the shitshow that was Redding again, this time with Flynn.
“Probationary Agent Reese, I know that you’re tired, so I only have a few questions.” His tone was bland, like he dealt with agents who had been awake and bleeding for two and a half day all the time, which he probably did. He wasn’t technically in charge of field ops, but he might as well be. He reported directly to the Deputy Assistant Secretary, she knew. The DAS handled all the political BS, so that Flynn could get shit done.
A while back, on Tumblr, someone suggested a sitcom starring an asexual person and an aromantic person. They called it “Arrow and Ace”. The idea stuck with me, and this is what happened. Expect to see more of these characters, because I have plans.
Probationary Agent Jeanette Reese was pretty sure that the meeting was going to end poorly. She was at least 83% sure that it would end poorly for her, given the situation and her gender. Agent Drumlin had a hell of a poker face, though, so there was enough uncertainty to keep her on her toes.
“Agent Reese, thank you for coming.” Drumlin had a reputation as an all business agent. A sort of ice queen, but one that was willing to get her hands dirty in the field. Her tone was careful, professional, and had just enough of an edge to be scary.
“How can I help, ma’am?”
Drumlin raised an eyebrow, not accusingly, more like she was surprised, like this was a gambit she had not been expecting.
“Uh, hey Paul? You haven’t checked your mail in a while. Want me to pull it up for you?” said the voice out of nowhere. I was used to it.
“I’m busy. Scan it for me and let me know if it’s important. Standard parameters.”
“You’ve got three hundred and twelve new messages. I think three hundred and five of them are important. The others are from people you don’t want to talk to, bill notices I already paid and one from your cousin. You declined to attend her wedding. I didn’t use any of the words you describe her with.”
“Connie again? What is that, four?” I asked. Warren keeps track of such things. Then it hit me. “Wait. Three hundred messages? I know for a fact that I cleaned out my inbox six hours ago. Summarize.”
“Um, well, most of them are different. You should read them.”
The story I was writing for this week got a bit away from me, so I went looking for something to put up here. I found this.
I wrote the original version of this in 2009. I was delighted to find that I didn’t have a bunch of problematic language in it. A bit of reworking, and here you go.
TRIGGER WARNING FOR RAPE THREATS, DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN, AND BLOOD
People voluntarily put a lot of crazy things in their orifices, just ask any E.R. doctor. Usually it’s a sex thing, and people tend to think that what goes in, must come out. Not necessarily true, as it turns out. That’s why the flared base is so important. It’ll keep things from getting lost.
My name is Zero, and my business is your pleasure. I’ve worked on the fringes of the adult industry for all of my adult life. At the time, I was working near porn. Specifically, selling it, retail, in the local Shack of Shame. Sure, we carried a few novelty items, but our business was mostly selling videos with titles like Amateur Teen Anal Queens 97.