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[personal profile] rc45
Title: Spreading Filths
Author: whysoserious
Obligatory Linkage: http://lotr.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600080827
Sporked by: [livejournal.com profile] agenttrojie and [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend
Sporkage rated: M (or 'oh, Christ onna bike' in our personal scale)
Sporkers' notes: Gollum decides to assuage Frodo's lust for the absent Sam, and Trojie and Pads get some sporking assistance from someone they weren't exactly expecting. Betaread by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] sedri



April 2009 HST

A shrill BEEEEEEP! rang through the halls and corridors of HQ's Nursery, eliciting a series of complaints from the staff and wails from the younger inhabitants. The sound reverberated off the grey walls and into a classroom with only one occupant, whose complete lack of proper cheek muscles did not prevent her from attempting a grin.

'Mum! Is that what it always sounds like? I've never heard a console beep before. Mum!'

There was no response save for a muted 'Shush!'

Marsha Heales-Shadowfax twisted round, attempting to peer under her own flank. 'Mum? Why are you hiding?'

A hand slapped over Marsha's beak, but as she was a juvenile Triceratops and the hand was that of an ordinary human woman, this had little effect.

'Is it a Sue, Mum? Can I come with you? Can I, please?'

There was a sigh from somewhere underneath the dinosaur. 'Marsha, will you shut up or are we going to have to barbecue you?'

'You wouldn't!' Marsha said. 'Mum'd never let you, Pads.' She stepped sideways carefully, revealing two agents who had been huddling in the lee of her hind legs, but were now horribly exposed. They immediately shuffled back towards the safety of the scaly, reptilian legs and hid from the Nursery staff who were even now calling for them.

'Trojanhorse? Paddlebrains? I really must insist you see to this mission. The beeping noise is waking up the infants.'

Pads laid a finger on her lips, and Trojie nodded. They both stood as still as statues.

A moment later, disaster struck. Marsha, having neither lips nor fingers, had utterly failed to understand her adopted step-mother's gesture, and shouted, 'They're over here!'

'Shhh!' Trojie attempted. However, this was a bit inadequate in the face of the bellowing of a near fully-grown dinosaur, and a moment later the agents found themselves being hauled towards the doorway by the scruffs of their necks. Marsha lumbered after them, determined not to let this opportunity pass.

'Mum! Pads! Pleeeeease can I come with you? Please?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Trojie managed, pulling futilely at the iron grip on her collar. 'We're not taking you into one of our missions, and that's final. It's far too dangerous. Besides, we're not allowed to!'

'Actually,' said the woman currently dragging a struggling Pads, who was attempting the starfish position in the doorway, 'you'd be doing us a favour. She's about to start proper Agent training anyway. Will you let go?' This last was accompanied by a swift kick to the back of the knees. Pads went down with a curse, and succumbed to the manhandling.

'But this is Bad Slash,' she protested. 'She wants to be an Assassin.'

'She's fourteen; she doesn't know what she wants,' the nurse pointed out.

'But it's Bad Slash!'

'She'd get Bad Slash training anyway; it's standard.'

'She's not over the age of consent?' Pads tried, and shot a warning glance at Trojie that clearly said 'say nothing of Littlefoot, or else'.

'I'm not a virgin, you know,' Marsha told her solemnly. 'And I knew all about semen even before Mum gave me that little talk about the pteranodons and the giant flying ants.'

By this stage they'd reached the office from which the BEEPing came, and Trojie and Pads found themselves shoved towards the console. Pads headed over to check the damage, while Trojie turned and stood with arms folded, ready to take this fight to the end.

'Look,' the more talkative of the nurses said, 'please take her? She's getting to be a bit of a handful, there's not a lot of room for her in the classroom, and she doesn't want to use a disguise generator to fix that. If you told her she had to use a disguise to do a mission, which wouldn't be a lie, then it might make everyone's lives easier. Please?'

She was echoed a fraction of a second later by a plaintive 'Pleeeeeeeease?' from Marsha.

'You'd be doing us a favour,' the nurse wheedled.

'I promise to be really good. I'll do everything you say, really.'

Trojie looked at Pads, who shrugged. Trojie sighed. 'All right! All right, we'll take her.'

'Yaaaay!' trumpeted Marsha from outside.

'But you're going to have to be disguised,' Trojie said, going to the door and fixing her ten-ton daughter with a fortunately-metaphorical basilisk eye. 'No arguments.'

'But Muuuuum-'

'I said no arguments. This is- Pads?'

'Mordor,' her partner supplied.

'This is Mordor; you're really not going to blend in.'

Marsha opened her beak and then shut it again. 'Okay, I suppose.'

'Good. Now, does anyone have a disguise generator on them? Because she won't fit in this office to use the one in the console.'

'You've still got the Bag,' Pads reminded her. 'There's probably one in there somewhere. And chuck us my fags while you're at it?'

While Trojie descended into the depths of the Bag and Marsha tried to contain her excitement, one of the nurses managed to locate an elderly disguise generator in a cupboard full of confiscated items. She passed it to them with a frown.

'Here. There's some firelighters in here too, if you want them. And a bottle of vodka.' She frowned. 'And a broken sonic screwdriver.'

Pads grinned, and a moment later this contraband was stashed safely out of sight. Trojie, meanwhile, had crawled disgruntledly out into the open. 'You could have said so before I went in there,' she muttered plaintively, but before long was happily fiddling with the disguise generator.

'I think we'll just go with 'Human', shall we, and let it choose its own defaults?' she said brightly, hoping to hide the fact that the last time she'd really used the disguise generator it had been to make herself into an Archaeopteryx, and that the actual usage of the thing beyond 'species' was beyond her.

She aimed the disguise generator at her daughter and pushed the button, an expression of manic hope on her face.

There was a small moment of morphological confusion, and then a tall, overweight, blonde human girl stood in front of them. For about a second, at least, until a confused look crossed her face and she fell over.

'Marsha?'

'I'm fine!' The girl's bellow had not changed with her shape; she still sounded like the auditory equivalent of a sledgehammer. She struggled to her feet. 'My knees are too far down,' she complained.

'Welcome to my world,' said Pads, showing rather more sympathy than was usual. 'You'll get used to it, in time.'

'What are you talking about, Pads?' Trojie said, raising an eyebrow. 'You were born human.'

'Yeah, but dog legs are so much more comfortable,' the Animagus said. 'Need a hand?' This latter was addressed to Marsha, who was upright but wobbling.

'Hands!' she exclaimed, and grinned. 'I have hands. Cool!'

'Opposable thumbs, too,' Trojie told her, looking her up and down. Seemingly satisfied with the result, she nodded, then turned to the console. 'Right then, Pads, what have we got? Mordor again?'

'Possibly,' the Animagus said. 'It's not entirely clear. But there's Gollum.'

'Gollum,' Trojie repeated in a hollow voice. 'In Bad Slash. Just when I thought the fanbrats could sink no lower.'

Pads attempted to console her, but she was interrupted by Marsha. 'It's not as bad as Dobby-'

'Gollum? Brilliant! He deserves some love.'

Both agents and nurses looked askance at her.

'What? He does. And just think what he could do with those long fingers...'

Trojie and Pads shared another look. The Nursery worker handed them a packet of pills. 'Best dose her up on Anti-Lustin before you go.'

'Agreed.'

While Marsha swallowed her medication with an obedience born of habit, Pads opened a portal into the fic.

Frodo was reclining in an Undefined Space in such a way as to make it blatantly obvious that something Perfectly Natural was happening in his breeches. Pads and Trojie stepped through without incident, but somehow, Marsha managed to trip.

'Wow, I caught myself! With my arms!'

'Yes, that is one particularly useful feature of them,' Trojie said, smiling fondly. 'Now shush. We have a Duty to do.'

Marsha closed her mouth immediately, and watched with keen interest as Pads pulled out her notebook. Her curiosity soon got the better of her.

'What are you writing? Is it a charge? What's he doing wrong? He can't help being aroused, poor hobbit.' The look she turned on Frodo was worryingly reminiscent of a Sue faced with a Lust Object.

Now was as good a time as any to begin her education, and so Trojie attempted to explain. 'It's Sam that's the problem, really. For a start, he's not here, and he never leaves Frodo alone. Especially not when Gollum's about.'

'Unless this is in Ithilien,' Pads said, not looking up from her charges. A moment later, the undefined space in which they were standing morphed, with a gentle pop, into something closely approaching the Shrubbery of the Knights of Ni.

'If this is the best that the Word World can do, we have some seriously poor writing here,' said Trojie. Marsha, however, appeared entranced by the shifting scenery. Trojie nudged her gently to get her attention. 'Now, look up at the sky, and let your eyes unfocus until you can see the Words.'

Marsha tipped her head back, and promptly fell over backwards. When she managed to stand again, taking a few moments to sort her knees out, Trojie held onto her, and moved her head until it was pointing the right way.

'I see them!'

'See them quietly!' Pads hissed.

'I see them,' Marsha said again, in a rather more subdued tone. 'Frodo's getting aroused because he's thinking about Sam!'

'A common badfic device, and one that's often-'

Trojie was interrupted without warning by Gollum, who had just appeared several feet away from the reclining Frodo.

'Ooh, Gollu-!' Marsha managed before Trojie slapped a palm over her mouth.

'The canon will cloak us to a certain extent,' Pads hissed in Marsha's ear, 'but screeching and yowling make it that much more likely we'll be discovered. And unless you've completely forgotten everything you've learnt in the past year, Frodo has a sword and Gollum's more than capable of killing any of us with his bare hands.'

'Mmph,' said Marsha penitently.

'Thank you. Now hush, there's dialogue.'

They watched the exchange between the canons with minimal fuss and moderate frowning.

"Gollum knows what you thinks. Gollum knows what you wants. Gollum knows you thinks and wants Sam-hobbit! Gollum knows how dirty you ares!"

'Is that what they mean when they say "talking like Gollum"?' Marsha asked, curious.

'Sort of,' Trojie admitted reluctantly. 'But this is very badly done. Gollum doesn't say ares, he says is.'

'He's also not blessed with amazing psychic powers of lust-perception,' Pads added. 'Or at least, he's not supposed to be.'

'But that's good, isn't it?' said Marsha. 'He knows Frodo wants Sam, so he can tell Sam, and then they can have sex!'

'Er,' Trojie said. She looked at her partner, and saw she'd gone an interesting shade of red, and was biting her lip hard in an attempt to say nothing. Trojie didn't blame her; she herself was having to squash the urge to whip out her bell and wave it threateningly at her adopted daughter's head. Maternal instincts won out, and she settled for educating instead. 'Real relationships don't work that way.'

'But-'

'No, honestly, they don't. For a start, what if Sam doesn't want to have sex? What if his finding out that Frodo was attracted to him made him so uncomfortable that they couldn't complete their mission properly? These sorts of things have consequences.'

Marsha frowned slightly, obviously assimilating the knowledge. 'So,' she started, tentatively, 'first Frodo needs to find out what Sam would think of this, right?'

'If you were trying to write good slash with this premise, then yes, that would be a start,' Pads allowed. 'But we're not worried about that, we're worried about getting rid of the Authorial influence. So for now, we just note down what's wrong, and follow the story.'

'Ooh, I think I can see a charge,' Marsha said, looking excited.

'Go ahead, what is it?'

'Frodo talking about 'Smeagol' and 'Gollum' as two different personalities,' the Triceratops said, trying to bounce up and down with excitement and only avoiding going over again thanks to Trojie's steadying arms.

'Did he not do that?' Trojie asked slowly.

'I'm... not sure, actually,' Pads admitted. 'Sam definitely did. I think Frodo just called him Smeagol.'

'Might as well note it,' said Trojie.

Marsha beamed.

"We's the same persons," Gollum hissed. "Smeagol not wants to talks to dirty hobbit. Gollum knew. Gollum alwaysknew. Gollum smelt it on you!" He cried. "And Gollum smells it now. Filth. Filth-filth-filth, oh dirty hobbit, do you see now? Do you see how dirty he is?! Dirty hobbit can't's be trusted with the precious- "

'Argh.'

Trojie patted her partner's arm. 'I know, I know.'

'The only way,' Pads said, her voice dripping with disdain, 'that Gollum could smell Frodo's "dirtiness" is if it's synonymous with his being some sort of sex-crazed fiend and he's smelling the hobbit equivalent of Frodo's semen-encrusted boxers.'

There was a moment when all three women shuddered in disgust, but in deference to the training of the older two and the origins of the youngest, the moment was short.

Gollum used that moment to crawl between Frodo's legs.

'Er, I think we should call this off before anyone does anything that anyone else could press charges for,' Trojie said.

'Does this mean we get to do an exorcism?' Marsha asked excitedly.

'It means we get to do an exorcism. You get to stand there quietly, and watch, and learn.'

Marsha pouted, but she stayed put, and so Trojie pulled out her bell and cast an eye over the charge-list to prepare herself. Pads found her lighter and held it aloft, swaying slightly in the manner of someone at a rock concert.

'Candle,' Trojie noted, pointing it out to Marsha. 'Book,' she continued, hauling The Two Towers from the Bag and waving it. 'And bell,' she finished, holding up the eight pound reinforced bell of Witchfinder CSM Horace 'Get Them Afore They Get You' Narker and grinning. Then she brought it down with a resounding clang! and leapt forwards. 'Avaunt!'

'So we're allowed to be loud now?' Marsha asked in confusion as her mother cavorted like a slightly demented ninja in a hailstorm.

'Avaunt, spirit of bad writing! I banish transparent plot points-'

'See, what she does is she works the charges into the exorcism,' said Pads, continuing to wave the lighter one-handed and taking the opportunity to smack the groaning Gollum over the head with The Return of the King. 'It makes it more effective.'

'Right.'

'-I conjure correct characterisation, I conjure detailed locations-'

'And she also tells the canon what ought to be there instead of the badfic.'

Marsha nodded, transfixed by her mother's gyrations.

'-in the name of TOLKIEN and by the power vested in me by the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, I say AVAUNT!'

'Aaaand here comes the wraith,' said Pads, stuffing the lighter in her pocket and waving her book through the foggy life-form.

It hissed, and Marsha shrank back, unnerved.

'Never seen any of the LotR all the way through, only bits, and wrote this in less than an hour, so don't be too harsh on me,' it said, before being wafted away.

'Pah!' Trojie shoved her bell back into its special pocket, and glared at the dissipating wisps of wraith. 'Why are you trying to write for a canon you don't even know?'

'"Trying" being the operative word,' Pads added, glancing at Marsha. 'So, that's how we do an exorcism. Any questions?'

'What do we do with them?' Marsha asked, peering at the groaning and mildly concussed canon characters.

'Neuralyse them. Hopefully before Sam gets back or an Oliphaunt wanders through.'

'That's easy enough,' Trojie added. 'Particularly when they're still woozy.' She hauled Frodo and Gollum into sitting positions, dropped her sunglasses onto her nose and chucked a spare pair to Marsha.

Pads had hers in place already and held out the neuralyser confidently.

FLASH

'Frodo Baggins and Gollum, also known as Smeagol, or should that be the other way around?' the Animagus mused. 'Anyway. Frodo, you're waiting for Sam to get back with some... water. Or something. And Gollum, you're hanging around being sycophantic and mildly creepy. Thank you for your time. Trojie, portal?'

While the two dazed canons assimilated their new memories, Trojie opened a portal back to the Nursery and ushered Marsha through first. They were met on the other side by the nurse who'd provided the disguise generator. Her anxious face cleared as the portal closed behind the agents. Marsha was once more her own shape, and there was some hurried shuffling of furniture to make space.

'You're back! How was it? Was she good?' This last was accompanied by a stern look at Marsha, who attempted to look innocent.

'She was very well-behaved,' Pads said. 'Although she could clearly do with some more lessons on stealth. And practice with her new knees.'

'Well, hopefully we can persuade her to take on this disguise more often, so that we can actually fit her in the classroom,' the nurse said, raising an eyebrow at Marsha as if daring her to disagree.

'But my centre of gravity's all wrong!' she complained.

'But you'll have fingers,' Pads pointed out with just a hint of a wicked grin. 'Just think what you could do with them.'

Marsha's forehead creased as she considered the possibilities. In the three seconds it took for her to grasp Pads's meaning, Trojie had smacked her partner round the head.

'Ow! What was that for?'

'Corrupting my daughter,' said Trojie with a sniff.

'I did no such thing! I was just pointing out that a human disguise has many and varied uses.'

'Hah!'

'Uses which you could have figured out yourself a lot sooner if you weren't so prudish about these things.'

'I'm not prudish,' Trojie countered. 'I just have more important things to do than... than that!'

The nurse interrupted them then, clearing her throat noisily. 'I'm not sure this conversation is entirely suitable for the Nursery,' she said, glaring at them.

Before either agent could reply, Marsha spoke. 'Okay! I'll do it.'

Trojie spluttered.

'I mean I'll wear the disguise, Mum.'

The veteran Agent eyed her daughter for a moment before nodding. 'Good girl,' she said. 'I'm sure you'll make us proud.'

The nurse chivvied Marsha carefully back through the widened corridors into the classroom, and Trojie and Pads turned to go towards the rooms that housed the younger children.

'I hope they're awake,' Pads said. 'I'm sure Andy's close to actually forming words.'

'What, at four months?'

'A mother can hope.'

'Speaking of things a mother can hope for, I hope you realise what I'll do to you if Lux and Marsha ever meet.'

'Roger that, boss,' Pads said, opening the door to the infants' creche and heading inside in search of her sons.

'With a red hot poker,' Trojie agreed, and followed her.
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