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[personal profile] rc45
Title: Shameless (1/?)
Author: shyunpo
Obligatory Linkage: http://community.livejournal.com/dirtymangoes/14278.html
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It meant jail, was what it meant. Jailbait. That was what Skandar Keynes was. Even James finds it hard to resist temptation. God, save his soul.
Sporkage by: [livejournal.com profile] agenttrojie and [livejournal.com profile] tea_fiend as Agents 'Ridian and Stevius.
Sporking rated: R
Sporkers' notes: Agents Veridian and Stevius save James McAvoy from his own flashbacks. Follows directly on from 'Ridian's first mission, Menage a Trois. If we'd been on the ball, we'd have had this finished yesterday, in honour of the start of the sixth season of Shameless. But we're crap, so we didn't. Ah well.

August 2008 HST

When the console beeped, our heroes had been acquainted for precisely 1 minute, 28 seconds. They had barely got past swapping names, let alone the careful conversational dances that accompany a PPC agent delicately trying to work out which subjects push their partner's rage-buttons.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for Agents Veridian and Stevius, they were about to enter a fic that waved red rags at both of them.

'Ridian hit the 'Show Fic' button, and both Agents leaned in, and then both swore.

'Gods almighty!'

'By the Lion's Mane!'

Stevius looked at 'Ridian. 'They're making James McAvoy into a paedophile,' he said angrily.

'They're makin' underage!Skandar give a blowjob,' said 'Ridian.

'They're making my father sexually abuse my king. Or near enough.'

'Ridian gave his new partner a sideways look. 'Let's kill it then?'

'With as much haste as possible,' Stevius agreed, heading for the disguise generator. He frowned at it as he twiddled a few knobs. 'Human legs again.'

'Speaking of that,' 'Ridian began, with a pointed look at Stevius's delicate hoofs.

'I shall be all right,' Stevius assured him. 'Although I may start walking backwards. Please, do your best not to let me walk into any walls.'

'I'll try,' said 'Ridian, opening a portal to the Real World. He sighed as he stepped through. 'These 'deans' are really not comfortable.'

'I agree most wholeheartedly,' said Stevius, picking up his feet delicately as he walked into the ill-defined space that James McAvoy was currently occupying while straightening his suit. 'And the setting of this fic really is terribly difficult to ascertain. It appears to be mostly flashback.'

James wonders if Skandar remembers.

He wonders if Skandar remembers that he had all but come onto him one night – a night long ago. When Skandar, so young, so deliciously below the age of consent, threw thin arms around James’ form and begged him to take him, then and there. Motherfucking hell.

'Yargh,' said 'Ridian incomprehensibly, noting as he did so that Stevius bore a very strong resemblance to the actor in front of them. Then he remembered that comment about 'my father'. 'So, 'scuse me for asking, but ... did you say he was your father?'

Stevius glared at 'Ridian. 'It is an exceedingly long story, Agent Green. Involving a dryad!Sue with an inability to separate character from actor. I do not wish to speak about it.'

'Remind me to get you drunk later then,' 'Ridian said. In front of them a television appeared, and James McAvoy appeared to be fiddling with his suit.

'It does look a little uncomfortable,' Stevius commented, doing his best to studiously ignore his sort-of-father's thoughts.

Not that James could very well show his face to Skandar or anything Narnia-related after that incident. It was mortifying beyond belief. That James McAvoy had given in to one so young. It was almost lurid. Somebody shoot him. Please.

'I'd like to shoot the author, does that count?' asked 'Ridian. 'Hang on, shouldn't we be getting some charges by now?'

'You may have a point,' said Stevius, fiddling in his pockets and producing a notebook and a stub of pencil. 'First, I would probably have charged for the disjointed narrative style-'

'And then for the paedophilia, right?'

'Yes, Agent Green, then for the paedophilia,' sighed the Faun, writing it down. 'The complete lack of any description of scenery comes next.'

So, maybe James hadn’t taken Skandar. No, not quite. But James might’ve as well. As tempting as the prospect was. (Which it – very much – was.) James had just fumbled back in his awkward disposition, taking an uncharacteristically long pause to think:

'And what on Disc does 'fumbled back in his awkward disposition' mean?' asked 'Ridian, impatiently watching Stevius note charges in what looked to be an infuriatingly neat script.

'I haven't the slightest idea,' said Stevius. 'But then, I've little idea about most of this narrative. All we've done so far is watch Mr. McAvoy adjust a poorly-tailored suit and listen to his impressively loudly declaimed thoughts.'

'Could be worse,' 'Ridian said phlegmatically. 'He's still got his clothes on.'

'Thank the Lion,' Stevius added with a shudder.

James never quite had the time to finish thinking about it. Not when he had gotten kissed by the owner of that mop of brunette hair, with those eyes that made him want to hit his knees against the floor in unlawful surrender, and just take –

'I hope you won't object if I charge for abuse of English grammar,' the Faun remarked.

'So long as you're charging for the continued paedophilia.'

'I can only record the same charge a certain number of times before it becomes rather pointless,' said Stevius. 'Let us try to be a bit more wide-ranging in our recognition of offences, hmm?'

'I suppose,' said 'Ridian, grudgingly. 'How about charging for wangst, then, because that's blatantly all this is.'

'Much better,' said Stevius, noting it.

But James had been gone. Like on a trip to all those stellar.

'You what now?'

'I believe that the author has confused nouns and adjectives.' Stevius's writing was speeding up.

James had been so far gone that all he remembers now upon hindsight is undressing Skandar, jerking Skandar’s cock in his hand, gentle and hard like it meant something.

'What do you mean 'like it meant something?'' asked 'Ridian of the Author, staring at the ceiling as if he imagined she would appear. 'This is just meaningless drivel!'

'Meaningless pornographic drivel,' corrected Stevius, not taking his eyes from the stationary figure of McAvoy and the little thought balloon in which the graphic memories were taking place.

It meant jail, was what it meant. Jailbait. That was what Skandar Keynes was.

'Then why'd you do it?' 'Ridian demanded, perplexed.

'To create angst,' Stevius told him. 'Pointless and explicit angst. I saw a lot of this, when my Duty lay within the DMS.'

And before James knew what was happening, Skandar had groaned against his lips, crying out for James, to, god, more, more, more, please, harder, harder, faster, take him, fuck him. Fucking kiss him, dammit.

'Do we really have to sit through all of this?' asked 'Ridian, a pained expression on his face.

'As it is not technically happening in the present of this fic, unfortunately, yes,' said Stevius. 'Hopefully exorcising Mr. McAvoy will remove the canon-warping influence enough that we will not have to worry about Mr. Keynes. He does not appear in the fic directly...'

'You'd better be right,' said 'Ridian.

Stevius regarded him calmly. 'I strongly suspect I am. Is that enough for you?'

'I suppose.'

'Excellent. Shall we continue? I believe we are nearing the end.'

James McAvoy's thought bubble continued to be filled with graphic images of Skandar Keynes for a few minutes. The agents watched with unconcealed distaste.

'Oh, pull the other one, it's got bells on,' said 'Ridian finally, when Skandar started to perform a specific act upon the person of the older man. 'I'm NOT sitting through any more of this.' He stomped forward, yanking his bell and a copy of the The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe DVD from his back pocket. 'James McAvoy?' he said, noticing Stevius striding up to join him. The thought bubble popped with a very satisfying and final-sounding noise, and the actor turned to face him, face painted a guilty shade of red. 'Ridian poked Stevius in the side. 'My partner has a few words for you.'

Stevius glared at 'Ridian, but cleared his throat, as the younger agent began to ring his bell. 'By the powers vested in me by the Protectors of the Plot Continuum, Department of Character Protective Services, I, Agent Stevius, do hereby conjure and bind the reality of World One to this inhabitant of same. I banish paedophilic tendencies, I banish abuse of the English language. I banish angst and gratuitous sex scenes. I command the slashwraith residing in this innocent man to avaunt!'

When it finally let go of McAvoy's body, the wraith was muttering to itself. 'Ridian leaned close, pausing in his bell-ringing and periodic thumpings of the ground with the DVD, to hear what it was saying.


'Begone, foul shade,' said Stevius drily, dragging his fingers through its smoggy body in an effort to help disperse it. 'It would be nice if they were actually sincere when they made these promises,' he said to 'Ridian. 'A good effort all round, I think, Agent Green. Now, if you would be so good as to open a portal?'


It was midnight, in RC#444's own local timezone, and the sound of tinkling bells, clashing sticks, and drunken singing could be heard in the corridor outside.

'So she thought his name was Steve Tumnus?' asked 'Ridian, attempting a difficult double cross-over step and nearly tripping over the small gramophone that was currently playing 'Mrs Widgery's Lodger'. He dropped his hanky and had to grovel on the floor to find it.

'You din't think Stevius w's'a proper Faun name, didja?' asked Stevius, reaching for the tequila bottle again and taking another hefty swig. 'S'stuff's good. How 'bout you?'

'Hadda get money somehow,' said 'Ridian, waving the found hanky. 'Six brothers'n'sisters need a lot'f feedin'. N' takin' me clothes off f'r money seemed a lot easier'n, y'know, thievin' or carpentry or sunnink.'

'You know what? Y'know, we should, y'know, dance.' Stevius grabbed 'Ridian by the shoulders and started whirling him around.

'We are dancin', Stevie-boy,' said 'Ridian. 'S'music and stuff.'

'We should dance out there!'

'Ooh, exhibitionist, arn'you?'

'M'a Faun. N dancing needsa audience. To Dancing Lawn!' Whipping out an ornately carved flute and raising it to his lips, Stevius shimmied in the direction of the door.

'Dun't have a Dancing Lawn. Gotta Cafeteria!'

'To Cafeteria!'

Date: 2009-01-29 04:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
Ah, drunk agents. The only truly happy members of the PPC.

That fic was disgusting. Never knew the thought bubbles manifested that way, though. Learn something new every day! :)

Date: 2009-01-29 04:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tea-fiend.livejournal.com
It had to manifest somehow. The entire damned fic was one long graphic underage flashback. The things we put ourselves through in the name of the Duty...

Date: 2009-01-29 07:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Pretty much!

Well, that was just something we invented for this fic - it really would have just been James McAvoy Standing Still Having A Flashback otherwise, and as we were so obviously supposed to be 'seeing' his memories, we figured it'd play like a little video ...

Date: 2009-01-29 11:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sedri.livejournal.com
Great thing about the PPC - nothing has to manifest the same way each time. :)

Date: 2009-01-31 08:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Yep! Love that.

Date: 2009-01-30 02:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agentsara.livejournal.com
"'M'a Faun. N dancing needsa audience. To Dancing Lawn!' Whipping out an ornately carved flute and raising it to his lips, Stevius shimmied in the direction of the door.

'Dun't have a Dancing Lawn. Gotta Cafeteria!'

'To Cafeteria!'"

Ahahahaha! Wuv!

Brilliantly done as always. Can't wait to see more of these two. :-D

Date: 2009-01-31 08:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
Thank you :)

Date: 2009-02-05 07:01 am (UTC)
ext_85481: (Default)
From: [identity profile] hsavinien.livejournal.com
Ewww... I like the end, though. Drunk dancing sounds like a good coping mechanism.


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