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[personal profile] rc45
Title: A baby and his dog
Author: MaceEcam
Rating: Adult+
Obligatory Linkage: http://cartoon.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600090822
Sporkage by: [livejournal.com profile] agenttrojie and [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend
Sporking rating: R
Sporkers' notes: Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] ansela_jonla for the beta.



***

February 2009 HST


It was deep into the nighttime portion of the timezone occupied by PPC RC#45, and the furred, feathered, scaled and otherwise-clad inhabitants of the RC were piled in a heap on the bottom bunk.

Their combined breath misted in the air - it was cold in the RC, hence the jumbled pile of Agents and pets. Overall, it was a delightful wintry scene such as could have been put on the lid of a chocolate box, if the PPC were in the habit of issuing seasonal confectionary.

As is usual in these narratives, all it takes is two paragraphs of scene setting before the

[BEEEEEP!]

comes in.

'Gah!'

Agent Trojanhorse, happily female once more since HQ's genderbending epidemic had been dealt with, sat as bolt upright as you can when you have five large, heavy animals sitting on your torso. Her partner, Agent Paddlebrains, currently quadrupedal, sprawled across her lap still asleep.

'Pads? Pads!' Trojie shook the dog gently, then harder. 'Pads, dammit, wake up! Mission time!'

The dog whined and opened her eyes. Yawning deeply, she transformed into a sleepy, rumpled redhead in threadbare pyjamas. 'Whassit?'

'Mission. Come on.'

'You have got to be kidding me.'

'I'm not.'

'I hate everything.'

'You're really not alone,' said Trojie, now peering over at the Console myopically. Pads sighed, seeing that her partner had once again forgotten to put her glasses on, put on her own and then grabbed Trojie's from the bedside table.

'I think the reason that you can't actually read the screen is- OOF!'

'Oh, mind the pamphlets,' said Trojie absently, nose pressed against the Console screen.

'Why do we have a pile of pamphlets in the middle of the RC?'

'I printed them up last night. Pan-fandom Sexual Education, Issue One: Mucuous Membranes and What Not To Stick Up Your Arse; a user's guide.'

'You're very keen all of a sudden. And what are these?' Pads held up a variety of animal-related paraphernalia; leads, collars, muzzles, bells etc.

'For the CAF Agency. And I think the Console's broken.'

'No, you've forgotten your glasses. Again. Here.' Pads made it over to the Console and jammed the spectacles on Trojie's nose. Looping her arm around the veteran's waist, she leant in to peek at the screen and got an elbow in her ribs.

'Just because you may have accidentally seduced me when we had man-parts does not mean that I am your snugglebunny. If you want tactile, go make friends with Lux.'

'There's no need to get snotty. What's so urgent that the Lace had it sent through to us in the middle of the night?'

Trojie was reading, her face twisting in her usual combination of disgust and scientific curiosity. 'Some cartoon continuum ... and it's a baby and a ... talking dog? Having sex.'

'Oh Glod.'

'Should be right up your alley,' Trojie mused. 'After all, you're a dog and you talk.'

'Yes, but babies are decidedly not one of my kinks,' Pads pointed out. 'At least it's mercifully short,' she added, scanning the single page the printer had spewed forth.

'Shall we get it over with then?'

Pads grabbed the Bag and stood to attention by the Console. Trojie patted the hefty pocket she'd sewn into her pyjamas, feeling the reassuring weight of her Bell, and then twiddled some likely-looking knobs. A portal opened.

The greyness on the other side contained a brief author's note.

A/N: I’m gonna burn in hell for this one.

'Excellent, no one will object if we set fire to the wraith,' Pads said, grinning. Around them, the greyness swirled, and became 31 Spooner Street, Quahog.

After some initial confusion about who was speaking, the canon settled down and attributed the dialogue to Stewie Griffin, the baby, and Brian, the dog. The plot, such as it was, was hardly scintillating.

“Hey Brian, I need to talk to you”

“Sure Stewie” he said, fallowing him into the baby’s room.

“Remember when we were following Meg and kissed?”

“Yeah” Brian had no idea where this was going.

“Well Brian, I-I think I love you”


'I admit it's been a very long time since I watched Family Guy,' said Trojie. 'But I really don't recall Brian being so oblivious or Stewie being so hesitant. Or so sappy.'

'Well, no, but then as you might have guessed from the summary, wherein it is revealed that they engage in carnal-type activities, they aren't exactly in character,' said Pads drily. 'So, since this fic's only got another half page of print to play out in, let's play spot-the-charge. OOCness, obviously.'

'Bestiality.'

'Unintentionally ironic misspelling - 'fallowing' means to plough without seeding.'

'Sounds about right. Hmm. Paedophilia. Or is there another name for it when it's babies?'

'Not sure. Go with paedophilia.'

'Illogic.'

'Good call.'

Brian was shocked “Oh. Um, what do you want to do about it?”

“I was wondering if we could, I don’t know, try stuff”


'By 'stuff' ...' Pads's voice trailed off. 'Heavens, they don't beat about the bush, do they?'

'Nope.'

“You mean now?

“Yes”


'Well I'm charging for the lack of punctuation, but I'm not sure about this lack of speech marks,' Trojie said, frowning. 'Technically, if it's the same speaker for both lines, it's accurate, if badly spaced.'

'True,' Pads conceded. 'But do you think the author knows that?'

'Doubt it. I mean, they can't even keep their tenses straight,' Trojie said, as Brian locked the door as Stewie undresses.

'And they know shit all about the mechanics,' said Pads, indicating Brian doing something to Stewie that would almost certainly have asphyxiated him. 'And they don't seem to have realised that Brian's a decent bit bigger than Stewie.'

'And I'm saying nothing about the ability of toddlers to get erections,' added Trojie.

'Or about the wonderful taste of dog penises.'

'Fortunately not something I have any knowledge of,' Trojie said distractedly, observing the baby and the dog in the traditional sixty-nine position. Then she looked up, frowning, at Pads. 'Tell me you don't either.'

'Not in this form,' Pads said, and hurriedly changed the subject. 'Look, the baby's about to ejaculate.'

'An act I am not even going to try and justify biologically,' said Trojie. 'Stewie's, what, one? Maybe two at a pinch? He can sit in a high chair, spoon his own food and toddle around. That means that he does not retain latent infant sexuality.'

'I think this author disagrees with you,' said Pads, pointing out Stewie instigating penetrative sex. 'She also hasn't much of an idea of dog anatomy, really.'

'She hasn't an idea of anything,' said Trojie decisively. 'Come on, there's no more charges that we haven't seen before. Grab 'em.'

Pads went with the traditional method of distracting a dog, and transformed. At the sight of her canine posterior, Brian immediately lost interest in Stewie, and bounded over to say hello. Trojie took the opportunity to thwack the baby round the head with her Bell.

'Avaunt, spirit of Bad Slash! I banish OOCness! I banish bestiality and paedophilia! I banish illogical anatomy and dubious - or in this case completely non-existent - lube! I do beseech the true spirit of this animated continuum to return! In the name of SETH MCFARLANE, I command the Author-wraith to AVAUNT!'

The spirit of the wraith was dragged unwillingly from the two canon characters.

'Pads, you still want to set it on fire?'

The Animagus transformed, and patted her pyjamas, seeking a lighter. One was eventually unearthed from the depths of a fluffy bedsock, and applied with all due malevolence to the wraith.

'It won't burn properly!'

'Hang on a minute,' Trojie said, and dived into the Bag. After a few moments' rummaging and some choice expletives, she emerged, brandishing a leather hose with a brass nozzle. The hose went on for some time, and then a large clanking object was revealed on the end of it.

'I knew this would come in handy,' she said with glee, handing the Klatchian Fire Engine over to Pads. 'Aren't you glad you stole it?'

Pads's expression was also one of glee. 'Of course I am,' she said, pumping it enthusiastically. 'Stand back!'

The wraith got the full force of the jet of flame, to no avail.

'Shit, Pads, you weren't supposed to set the baby's room on fire!'

The two pyjama-clad and now slightly soot-blackened Agents hurriedly put out several minor blazes, and by the time they'd done so, the wraith was disappearing along with the smoke from the fires.

'How about I just ... open a window?' said Pads, coughing surreptitiously.

'Good plan.'

'And you can neuralyse the canons,' she added, lighting a cigarette off the burning curtain before throwing it out of the window.

Trojie sighed, thrust a hand into the Bag once again and threw her partner a pair of sunglasses, jamming her own on her nose. She then produced the neuralyser.

FLASH

'Stewie Griffin, Brian Griffin, neither of you has any inappropriate desire for the other.' She turned to Pads. 'Come on, let's portal.'

'That was short,' said Pads, dutifully activating the RA.

'I prefer 'succinct',' said Trojie, stepping through the portal. 'Canon'll fill in the rest.'

'Alright, but next time, can you do something a bit lengthier? I don't want the Lace springing more punishments on us because you can't be arsed to run to two sentences on a neuralysation.'

'Fine, but no more setting fire to canon locations. That's just as likely to screw us over.'

'I think we might already be,' Pads said, hauling herself back onto the bunk and patting the blanket beside her invitingly. 'Mentally, at least.'

'How d'you mean?' Trojie asked, diving under the covers.

'Well, I know the whole cartoon thing makes it slightly easier, but you realise we just watched a dog and a baby have penetrative sex, without so much as batting an eyelid?'

'Point. Maybe we've been in this job to- oof!'

'Not a word, woman,' Pads hissed, her hand over her partner's mouth. 'You never know when the Ironic Overpower might be listening.'

They both turned to look apprehensively at the Console. It remained mercifully silent.

'A watched Console never bee-'

This time it was Trojie's turn to slap a hand over a mouth. Unfortunately for her, Pads's standard response to such manhandling was to lick.

'Oh for - that's disgusting,' said Trojie, wiping her hand on her blanket.

'Worked, though,' said Pads, snuggling down. 'Come on, sleepytime.'

The menagerie, recognising that word, crowded onto the bunk with their mistresses. In the ensuing struggle for territory, Trojie completely failed to realise, as she fell asleep, that her partner was wrapped around her in human shape.
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