Discovered in the wrapping paper - 4th December - Whatever We Are... by Felicity M. Parkinson
Posting on behalf of f_m_parkinson - happy 4th December everyone. I do hope you enjoy this fun little fic... *g*
Whatever We Are…
by Felicity M. Parkinson
“Fuck,” said the stegosaurus. He twitched uncomfortably in his skin and wriggled around, the bony ridge plates on his back standing in line, erect and menacing. Casting a baleful eye on his companion, he added, “Who the hell thought this one up?”
The velociraptor beside him continued to survey the field of lizard look-alikes beginning to cluster round their designated marshalling area. “Who do you think?” He leaned back against a rock face, carefully avoiding his tail getting crushed. “Management, of course. Higher Management.”
“It’s crazy.” The stegosaurus was getting into his stride, allowing his irritation an airing. “Okay, I accept the basic principle - a new broom and all that, but - dinosaurs?” He swished his spiked tail from side to side.
“Somebody obviously thought it was a good idea. After all, the new intake is the first of its kind in the organisation. We’re all supposed to get to know each other a lot better. Maybe they wanted to try something radically different. Some sort of bonding exercise.”
“Is that what they call it?” The stegosaurus remained unimpressed. “Bloody waste of time if you ask me. I’m not bonding with any of that lot.” He leered at the velociraptor. “I’m already spoken for. Anyway, they’re all wet behind the ears. Not one of ’em’s got any experience of fieldwork.”
His companion’s eyes glittered. “And how would you know? Did you break into Records and read their files?”
“I have my sources,” the stegosaur replied loftily. “But who needs a degree to be a field agent? I don’t have an O level to my name - it hasn’t stopped me serving Queen and Country.”
The velociraptor snorted. “Yeah, but this lot is being fast-tracked.” He watched as a tyrannosaurus thundered past, followed by a triceratops. “Destined for Management, they are, not keeping the streets safe like us poor sods. I doubt whether half of ’em have ever held a gun, never mind fired one.” He pushed himself upright. “We’d better go and line up, or there’ll be more complaints.”
“It’s okay for you.” The stegosaurus held out a forelimb and waved it in front of himself. “How am I supposed to operate like this?” He turned towards the smaller dinosaur. “At least you have claws. I can’t grip anything properly.” His expression became morose. “I’m at a disadvantage before I even start.”
“Aah, you’ll manage.” The velociraptor reached over and gave one of the bony plates a pat. “Let’s get going.”
A creature with scales glittering in the sunlight was waiting at the marshalling point. “And you are?” she asked the stegosaurus, consulting the list of names on her clipboard.
“Agent 003 and a half,” came the hoary response, “and licensed to thrill.”
The velociraptor gave another snort, his reptilian eyes glinting.
Scintillating Scales ignored him and eyed the stegosaur disdainfully. “I suppose you think you’re funny. This point is for the new field agents. You’re over there.” She indicated another area, where three iguanodons, a diplodocus and a brontosaurus were mingling. As she spoke, a brachiosaurus wandered up to the group. “You, too,” she added, looking at the velociraptor before he could say anything. She peered at her list and frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re on the other list. Velociraptors should all be on List One. List Two is for time-served agents.”
The velociraptor looked suitably gratified, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his tail swaying with the movement, but the stegosaur glared in the direction of the large dinosaurs lumbering around. “We’re the old slow lot, are we?” he said. “Not even allowed to be a T. rex.”
Scintillating Scales sniffed. “It’s not my decision. Take it up with Management if you don’t like it. Now, get over there. They can’t wait all day. We have a course to run.”
Corralled at one end of a strip of open land, the List Two dinosaurs lined up. Several of the tyrannosaurs watched them, making jeering noises.
“Make for the rocks at the bottom of the hill,” an official told them. “And remember, we’ll be timing your efforts.”
Then they were off, running as best they could along the uneven ground, tussocks of grass and thorny plants impeding their progress. The continued sounds of jeering followed them.
“It’s all right for that lot,” grumbled the stegosaur as he slithered down a bank of earth into a muddy pool. “But I can’t run like this. And you’re okay,” he added as the velociraptor shot past him and up the opposite bank, “you’re built for it. Look, sunshine, just leave me here and get to the end. No reason we should both be marked down.” He panted as he heaved himself through the stagnant water and up the next bank of earth, his companion waiting to haul him to the top. “Fuck Management. You know what their aim is? They’re going to put us out to grass.”
“Yeah,” came the reply as they started off again, “but we’re a team. We stick together. Bugger their times and assessments.”
A brontosaurus had come to grief at the next stream, stuck in the mud and thrashing his long neck and tail about in a vain effort to get himself free. The brachiosaur came up, made a feeble attempt at helping and also became firmly embedded in the mire. The diplodocus had already given up and settled down on the grass for a rest. The velociraptor went up to him.
“You can’t give up now. That’s just what those buggers want. Get to the finish and then you can collapse.”
The diplodocus stared at him sourly. “Not a chance, mate. The odds are weighed against us. We all know we’re for the chop. They’ve been making that obvious for a while now. Oh, maybe not you - maybe you’re still useful to them. You wouldn’t be a velociraptor, otherwise. But the rest of us… Even him.” The dinosaur glanced over to where the stegosaurus was making his way down a pebble-strewn track. “Why bust a gut when it’s a forgone conclusion?” He slumped back on his side and closed his eyes.
The velociraptor said nothing but his eyes gleamed. He went along the trackway and caught up with the stegosaurus. “That’s it. I’m going to do what I told you about. Just wait till later.”
“You can’t,” puffed his companion. “They’ll fire you, or clap you in some high-security set-up as a danger to the State. And how will I live without you?” he added mournfully.
“It’s that, or accept what this outfit has become. Which d’you want?”
The stegosaur was silent until they reached the rocky finishing area. “Hell,” he said, “let’s do it. Maybe they’ll put us in the same padded cell.” He glowered at another official consulting her stopwatch. “So much for One Million Years BC. Not a fur bikini in sight.”
The final test, for the new intake only, was announced as an exercise over the same terrain, ostensibly designed to give them a foretaste of what a field agent might be expected to encounter, but it was obvious to all that the reality was to measure their far quicker times in finishing.
The tyrannosaurs, a number of triceratops and several velociraptors milled around, waiting for the signal. The other dinosaurs, having been approached by the velociraptor on their list, quietly wandered off, stationing themselves at intervals along the course, watching for the approach of the new agents. Those started off at a run. At the first watercourse, a brontosaurus suddenly reared up and threw an object in their path, smoke billowing out as it hit the ground. The velociraptors leading the field choked, falling into the stream. A T. rex, startled by the situation, turned tail and fled back towards the start. As the remaining dinosaurs kept going, the stegosaurus hurled another smoke bomb at them, causing further confusion. His speedy companion bounded over a bank, tossed a stick-like object towards them, then leapt away and ran as the thunderflash erupted, the stegosaur lumbering after him. The majority of the pack collapsed on the grass, coughing and roaring. Two remaining tyrannosaurs made for the finish. The officials readied their stopwatches. Then out from the rocks raced the velociraptor, to fling another thunderflash at the oncoming neophytes. The brachiosaur and several iguanodons cheered as one T. rex toppled over onto the ground and the other fell face down on the grass and lay still.
Scintillating Scales caught up with the two main perpetrators as they left the area. “You won’t get away with this,” she screeched. “You’re a menace to the organisation. What do you think you’re doing, throwing stun grenades at them?”
The velociraptor turned round. “They’re not damaged.”
“Not much,” added the stegosaur.
“You’ve ruined the exercise,” Scintillating Scales continued. “You haven’t heard the last of this. Who do you think you are?”
“What you’ve made us,” said the velociraptor, snapping his jaws at her.
“Yeah,” agreed the stegosaur, “we don’t give a fuck.” He grinned at his companion and they chorused, “We’re dinosaurs.”
They walked off the field, forelimbs slung round shoulders, the velociraptor giving a reptilian V-sign as they went.
****
In the changing room, Bodie unzipped his costume along its belly and pushed back the head. “I’m boiled.” After a moment, he added, “You know we’re in for it now,” and sat down on the bench to pull the stegosaurus hide free of his legs and feet. “She’ll report us.”
“I’m in for it.” Doyle removed the velociraptor head and peeled off the rest of the skin, hanging it on a convenient peg. “I’ve wanted to do something like that for a long time.”
“What?” Bodie finished dressing. “Be a dinosaur? Okay if you can move in those damn things.” He shoved the costume away to make room for his partner.
“Don’t be deliberately daft,” said Doyle, pulling on his clothes and sitting down beside him. “You know what I mean. Harrison’s been angling to get rid of me ever since he took over from the Cow.” He paused for a moment. “God, is it really over two Christmases ago that Cowley retired? Time’s just vanished.”
“Perhaps you’re right about Harrison,” Bodie admitted. “But we all helped you. He’d have to get rid of the lot of us.”
Doyle slanted a look at his partner. “Maybe he will. A clearing-out of the old mob. But I thought up the idea and persuaded everyone to go along with it. I’m the one who did the real damage. And he hasn’t forgotten the report I gave him, criticising the sub-standard weaponry he intended to buy.”
Bodie grimaced. “But you were right. We would’ve lost field agents, using stuff that fell off the back of a lorry. Okay, he had to make cuts, but not that way. What else could you have done?”
“Kept quiet.” Doyle brooded for a moment. “Or sold the story to the tabloids. That would’ve concentrated his mind.” He buttoned his shirt and leaned back against the wall.
“Ah,” Bodie said sombrely, “they really don’t like it if you break the Official Secrets Act. Listen, mate, I’m not staying in this organisation without you. We’re a team, remember?” He punched Doyle lightly on the shoulder. “Say what you have to, if you want to be noble and self-sacrificing, but we all agreed with your plan. Don’t be a martyr, Ray. You and me - we’ll face things together. Whatever we are, even if we are dinosaurs in their eyes, it’s Cowley who made us, not CI5.”
“Yeah,” said Doyle. “I remember.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I’ve a bit of money stashed off-shore,” Bodie said eventually. “Never had the chance to spend the ill-gotten gains of my youth. It’s more than enough to keep us going if Harrison kicks us out without a penny.”
“My hero,” said Doyle with gentle irony. He sat up straight. “We’d better go back to HQ. Get things over with.” Picking up the velociraptor head he waved it about. “I think we bonded very well - great teamwork.”
Bodie leaned over and gave him a brief kiss before standing and reaching out a hand. “Come on, sunshine. We’ve given ’em something to remember us by. Let’s face our future.”
Title: Whatever We Are...
Author: Felicity M. Parkinson
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Certainly
Disclaimer: Pros belongs to its official owners, and we are just borrowing and playing for free and for fun.
Notes: Written for WriteTime 2019. Story prompts included a change of pace, and dinosaurs… Revised, with minor amendments, April 2021.
Whatever We Are…
by Felicity M. Parkinson
“Fuck,” said the stegosaurus. He twitched uncomfortably in his skin and wriggled around, the bony ridge plates on his back standing in line, erect and menacing. Casting a baleful eye on his companion, he added, “Who the hell thought this one up?”
The velociraptor beside him continued to survey the field of lizard look-alikes beginning to cluster round their designated marshalling area. “Who do you think?” He leaned back against a rock face, carefully avoiding his tail getting crushed. “Management, of course. Higher Management.”
“It’s crazy.” The stegosaurus was getting into his stride, allowing his irritation an airing. “Okay, I accept the basic principle - a new broom and all that, but - dinosaurs?” He swished his spiked tail from side to side.
“Somebody obviously thought it was a good idea. After all, the new intake is the first of its kind in the organisation. We’re all supposed to get to know each other a lot better. Maybe they wanted to try something radically different. Some sort of bonding exercise.”
“Is that what they call it?” The stegosaurus remained unimpressed. “Bloody waste of time if you ask me. I’m not bonding with any of that lot.” He leered at the velociraptor. “I’m already spoken for. Anyway, they’re all wet behind the ears. Not one of ’em’s got any experience of fieldwork.”
His companion’s eyes glittered. “And how would you know? Did you break into Records and read their files?”
“I have my sources,” the stegosaur replied loftily. “But who needs a degree to be a field agent? I don’t have an O level to my name - it hasn’t stopped me serving Queen and Country.”
The velociraptor snorted. “Yeah, but this lot is being fast-tracked.” He watched as a tyrannosaurus thundered past, followed by a triceratops. “Destined for Management, they are, not keeping the streets safe like us poor sods. I doubt whether half of ’em have ever held a gun, never mind fired one.” He pushed himself upright. “We’d better go and line up, or there’ll be more complaints.”
“It’s okay for you.” The stegosaurus held out a forelimb and waved it in front of himself. “How am I supposed to operate like this?” He turned towards the smaller dinosaur. “At least you have claws. I can’t grip anything properly.” His expression became morose. “I’m at a disadvantage before I even start.”
“Aah, you’ll manage.” The velociraptor reached over and gave one of the bony plates a pat. “Let’s get going.”
A creature with scales glittering in the sunlight was waiting at the marshalling point. “And you are?” she asked the stegosaurus, consulting the list of names on her clipboard.
“Agent 003 and a half,” came the hoary response, “and licensed to thrill.”
The velociraptor gave another snort, his reptilian eyes glinting.
Scintillating Scales ignored him and eyed the stegosaur disdainfully. “I suppose you think you’re funny. This point is for the new field agents. You’re over there.” She indicated another area, where three iguanodons, a diplodocus and a brontosaurus were mingling. As she spoke, a brachiosaurus wandered up to the group. “You, too,” she added, looking at the velociraptor before he could say anything. She peered at her list and frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re on the other list. Velociraptors should all be on List One. List Two is for time-served agents.”
The velociraptor looked suitably gratified, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his tail swaying with the movement, but the stegosaur glared in the direction of the large dinosaurs lumbering around. “We’re the old slow lot, are we?” he said. “Not even allowed to be a T. rex.”
Scintillating Scales sniffed. “It’s not my decision. Take it up with Management if you don’t like it. Now, get over there. They can’t wait all day. We have a course to run.”
Corralled at one end of a strip of open land, the List Two dinosaurs lined up. Several of the tyrannosaurs watched them, making jeering noises.
“Make for the rocks at the bottom of the hill,” an official told them. “And remember, we’ll be timing your efforts.”
Then they were off, running as best they could along the uneven ground, tussocks of grass and thorny plants impeding their progress. The continued sounds of jeering followed them.
“It’s all right for that lot,” grumbled the stegosaur as he slithered down a bank of earth into a muddy pool. “But I can’t run like this. And you’re okay,” he added as the velociraptor shot past him and up the opposite bank, “you’re built for it. Look, sunshine, just leave me here and get to the end. No reason we should both be marked down.” He panted as he heaved himself through the stagnant water and up the next bank of earth, his companion waiting to haul him to the top. “Fuck Management. You know what their aim is? They’re going to put us out to grass.”
“Yeah,” came the reply as they started off again, “but we’re a team. We stick together. Bugger their times and assessments.”
A brontosaurus had come to grief at the next stream, stuck in the mud and thrashing his long neck and tail about in a vain effort to get himself free. The brachiosaur came up, made a feeble attempt at helping and also became firmly embedded in the mire. The diplodocus had already given up and settled down on the grass for a rest. The velociraptor went up to him.
“You can’t give up now. That’s just what those buggers want. Get to the finish and then you can collapse.”
The diplodocus stared at him sourly. “Not a chance, mate. The odds are weighed against us. We all know we’re for the chop. They’ve been making that obvious for a while now. Oh, maybe not you - maybe you’re still useful to them. You wouldn’t be a velociraptor, otherwise. But the rest of us… Even him.” The dinosaur glanced over to where the stegosaurus was making his way down a pebble-strewn track. “Why bust a gut when it’s a forgone conclusion?” He slumped back on his side and closed his eyes.
The velociraptor said nothing but his eyes gleamed. He went along the trackway and caught up with the stegosaurus. “That’s it. I’m going to do what I told you about. Just wait till later.”
“You can’t,” puffed his companion. “They’ll fire you, or clap you in some high-security set-up as a danger to the State. And how will I live without you?” he added mournfully.
“It’s that, or accept what this outfit has become. Which d’you want?”
The stegosaur was silent until they reached the rocky finishing area. “Hell,” he said, “let’s do it. Maybe they’ll put us in the same padded cell.” He glowered at another official consulting her stopwatch. “So much for One Million Years BC. Not a fur bikini in sight.”
The final test, for the new intake only, was announced as an exercise over the same terrain, ostensibly designed to give them a foretaste of what a field agent might be expected to encounter, but it was obvious to all that the reality was to measure their far quicker times in finishing.
The tyrannosaurs, a number of triceratops and several velociraptors milled around, waiting for the signal. The other dinosaurs, having been approached by the velociraptor on their list, quietly wandered off, stationing themselves at intervals along the course, watching for the approach of the new agents. Those started off at a run. At the first watercourse, a brontosaurus suddenly reared up and threw an object in their path, smoke billowing out as it hit the ground. The velociraptors leading the field choked, falling into the stream. A T. rex, startled by the situation, turned tail and fled back towards the start. As the remaining dinosaurs kept going, the stegosaurus hurled another smoke bomb at them, causing further confusion. His speedy companion bounded over a bank, tossed a stick-like object towards them, then leapt away and ran as the thunderflash erupted, the stegosaur lumbering after him. The majority of the pack collapsed on the grass, coughing and roaring. Two remaining tyrannosaurs made for the finish. The officials readied their stopwatches. Then out from the rocks raced the velociraptor, to fling another thunderflash at the oncoming neophytes. The brachiosaur and several iguanodons cheered as one T. rex toppled over onto the ground and the other fell face down on the grass and lay still.
Scintillating Scales caught up with the two main perpetrators as they left the area. “You won’t get away with this,” she screeched. “You’re a menace to the organisation. What do you think you’re doing, throwing stun grenades at them?”
The velociraptor turned round. “They’re not damaged.”
“Not much,” added the stegosaur.
“You’ve ruined the exercise,” Scintillating Scales continued. “You haven’t heard the last of this. Who do you think you are?”
“What you’ve made us,” said the velociraptor, snapping his jaws at her.
“Yeah,” agreed the stegosaur, “we don’t give a fuck.” He grinned at his companion and they chorused, “We’re dinosaurs.”
They walked off the field, forelimbs slung round shoulders, the velociraptor giving a reptilian V-sign as they went.
****
In the changing room, Bodie unzipped his costume along its belly and pushed back the head. “I’m boiled.” After a moment, he added, “You know we’re in for it now,” and sat down on the bench to pull the stegosaurus hide free of his legs and feet. “She’ll report us.”
“I’m in for it.” Doyle removed the velociraptor head and peeled off the rest of the skin, hanging it on a convenient peg. “I’ve wanted to do something like that for a long time.”
“What?” Bodie finished dressing. “Be a dinosaur? Okay if you can move in those damn things.” He shoved the costume away to make room for his partner.
“Don’t be deliberately daft,” said Doyle, pulling on his clothes and sitting down beside him. “You know what I mean. Harrison’s been angling to get rid of me ever since he took over from the Cow.” He paused for a moment. “God, is it really over two Christmases ago that Cowley retired? Time’s just vanished.”
“Perhaps you’re right about Harrison,” Bodie admitted. “But we all helped you. He’d have to get rid of the lot of us.”
Doyle slanted a look at his partner. “Maybe he will. A clearing-out of the old mob. But I thought up the idea and persuaded everyone to go along with it. I’m the one who did the real damage. And he hasn’t forgotten the report I gave him, criticising the sub-standard weaponry he intended to buy.”
Bodie grimaced. “But you were right. We would’ve lost field agents, using stuff that fell off the back of a lorry. Okay, he had to make cuts, but not that way. What else could you have done?”
“Kept quiet.” Doyle brooded for a moment. “Or sold the story to the tabloids. That would’ve concentrated his mind.” He buttoned his shirt and leaned back against the wall.
“Ah,” Bodie said sombrely, “they really don’t like it if you break the Official Secrets Act. Listen, mate, I’m not staying in this organisation without you. We’re a team, remember?” He punched Doyle lightly on the shoulder. “Say what you have to, if you want to be noble and self-sacrificing, but we all agreed with your plan. Don’t be a martyr, Ray. You and me - we’ll face things together. Whatever we are, even if we are dinosaurs in their eyes, it’s Cowley who made us, not CI5.”
“Yeah,” said Doyle. “I remember.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I’ve a bit of money stashed off-shore,” Bodie said eventually. “Never had the chance to spend the ill-gotten gains of my youth. It’s more than enough to keep us going if Harrison kicks us out without a penny.”
“My hero,” said Doyle with gentle irony. He sat up straight. “We’d better go back to HQ. Get things over with.” Picking up the velociraptor head he waved it about. “I think we bonded very well - great teamwork.”
Bodie leaned over and gave him a brief kiss before standing and reaching out a hand. “Come on, sunshine. We’ve given ’em something to remember us by. Let’s face our future.”
Title: Whatever We Are...
Author: Felicity M. Parkinson
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Certainly
Disclaimer: Pros belongs to its official owners, and we are just borrowing and playing for free and for fun.
Notes: Written for WriteTime 2019. Story prompts included a change of pace, and dinosaurs… Revised, with minor amendments, April 2021.