A Byrd and a Thorntree: The Saga Continues

Just a Summer Job

So Mom wanted her to get a summer job. Peachy. Yes, Jasper knew that she needed money for a car. Yes, she knew she needed money for college. And frankly, she didn’t care. Jasper was perfectly happy sponging off her parents until they literally kicked her out of the door when the first college semester rolled around. A small part of her knew that it was too good to last.

There she was, sitting in an employment agency. She didn’t want to be there, and she was pretty darn sure Mrs. Broansly, the fat, gray-haired interviewer didn’t want to be there either. Yet neither one of them could do anything about it.

There were some questions, about Jasper’s other job experience (hah, none.) her age (She was an incredibly well-preserved eighteen-year-old) and whatnot. The air was sweltering inside that tiny office, and there was one persistent fly that seemed to want to explore the inside of Jasper’s nose. Can you say ‘conniption city’?

“Ah, well, Jasper, you don’t seem to have much going for you at all, do you?”

Oh yes, the heat was definitely loosening tongues as well.

“If you choose to see it that way. Look, can’t you find something that involves writing or reading? Like perhaps an editorial job for a newspaper. Y’know, proofreading...?” Jasper trailed off because she saw a desperately wicked gleam enter those glazed-over eyes.

“I can think of something...here.” Broansly riffled through an enormous stack of papers as Jasper swatted again at the irritating fly. The old lady handed her a semi-lengthy application, which she promptly rolled up and used to squash her buggy little friend that had taken a short pit-stop on the lady’s desk. Then Jasper flattened the document out again, ignoring the big streak mark of insect guts in the Social Security Number box.

“A continuum...? What the heck is this?” she demanded after skimming the first few lines.

The lady flapped her hands dismissively. “An understaffed organization that does precisely what you like. Reading and fixing errors...or should I say, ‘aberrations?’”

Jasper should have taken a cue from her tone right then and there, but her brain was melting into sludge the longer she remained closeted in that tiny office. “Fine, works for me, I’ll take it.” She grabbed the sheaf of papers, bug entrails and all, and hightailed it in favor of someplace with air conditioning.

It was only later as Jasper was filling everything out that she started to rethink the answers to some of the questions. “Trained with medieval weaponry?” Um, that’d be a no, Bob. Unless one took into consideration the plastic crossbow she’d gotten for a presentation on Robin Hood...

“Experience with alarms?” Well, she could win mechanical splatter contests with her pitching.

“Trained with modern weaponry? If so, list certifications.” Did spitball shooters count? She decided to refrain from putting anything down.

By the end of the entire examination (Jasper had ceased to think of it as an application) her fingers were cramped, and she had utterly despaired of ever getting a job with these guys. She obviously didn’t have many of the qualifications they were looking for. Nevertheless, she took it to the post office and mailed it off, hoping at least that if she had to pay so much for postage, it would take me a reasonable distance away from her family. Her brothers, to name a few things.

Two days went by, and Jasper was hip deep into other applications to McDonalds and Pet World, having slipped into the funk of someone who’s resigned to saying, “You want fries with that?” when there was the screech of what could only be UPS truck brakes outside her house. The only thought she had before prying herself off the couch to answer the door was that it was nobody’s birthday. She opened the door to find the guy in the brown uniform plopping a large box down on the porch. He squinted at her, before squinting at his clipboard.

“You Jasper?”

“Yeah,” she replied, deciding to spare the man her “who wants to know?” question.

“Sign here.”

So she signed. Then lugged the big ol’ package inside to take a peek. Yup, it was clearly addressed to her, and the return address had an interesting logo having to do with a potted plant and the initials P.P.C. Well, her curiosity wasn’t being satiated by staring at the label, so Jasper grabbed a pair of scissors and tore into the box eagerly. On top was a letter, which she spared only a moment to skim.

“Dear Miss So and so,

We would like to thank you for sending in your application and are pleased to tell you that you have been given a position in the Mary Sue department. Due to staff shortages and an overwhelming supply of work, we have decided to forgo the customary training and have sent you instead three volumes of our policies, rules, regulations, equipment...yadda yadda yadda.”

OK, great, so she’d gotten the job. When did she report and to where? And what did she need to bring/buy in the way of supplies?

“...your obligatory department shirt has been enclosed, and all equipment necessary for your position will be supplied upon arrival. We request that you completely read and understand all three volumes of our handbook and report to the address listed above by Tuesday.”

“What?!” Jasper yelped, flinging the letter away from her as if it had caught fire. Diving into the box, she unearthed from among the packing three monster-sized volumes, each big enough in their own right to be the complete global dictionary for the masses. “Oy...” she took the opportunity to sit back and massage her temples before they started to hurt, because Jasper knew in a few days that not even aspirin would help.

And by Tuesday...that gave her five days. Fine. Sure. Before she did anything else, she opened Volume I and did a quick perusal. The explanation of the PPC alone was enough to make one’s eyeballs pop. Jasper’s decided to go rolling around the floor, near her jaw. She flipped quickly past the thick section with all the rules, getting down to the basics. Then she slammed the book shut with a BAM! loud enough to register on the Richter scale. There was mystic travel to other places, not to mention elaborate circuitry involved, AND it was a 2-hour drive away from home.

She was in.

Jasper packed in between soaking up all the directives and regulations of the PPC. Of course she didn’t remember half of them, but she got the basic idea. By the time she had moved onto Volume II, there was no way she was backing out. Fanfictions, Mary Sues...this was the stuff her adventures were to be made of.

Jasper's trip was boring. Trips usually are. Eventually she found herself standing in front of a drab, austere sort of building. It didn’t look like how she would have imagined it. Then the brilliant idea that it was some sort of front for the organization wormed its way inside her skull, and she went along with it.

Entering the building, there was only one thing in the room: an elevator. Jasper suddenly was reminded of MiB. Shaking off her momentary trepidation, she pushed the single button and waited. The doors slid apart and she got in, unsure of what floor. Apparently it didn’t matter, for the elevator plummeted straight down. Jasper went weightless for a brief second, before being thrown back to the floor as the car slowed.

The doors parted to spit her out, something that she did only too gladly. Her head spun a bit as she looked around, only to see more unending gray walls. Walls with...scorchmarks? Jasper shook her head.

“Welcome to the P.P.C. My name is David and I’ll be your guide. Please keep all articles with you at all times and do not talk out of turn.” A harsh monotone caused her to gasp and spin to the left. A thin guy stood there, and she knew he hadn’t been there a moment before.

“Hey, where did you come from?” Jasper demanded.

“No questions will be answered until invited. Please step this way.” Either David had done this too many times before or he was a robot. She wasn’t sure which. “You have been assigned to the Mary Sue department. Your duties have been specifically outlined in your handbooks. You will be given a workspace to be shared by you and your partner—”

“Partner? Who’s my partner?”

“No questions will be answered until invited. The equipment you require to perform your duties is there, you should have full knowledge of it from reading your handbooks.” All this time we had been walking, taking turns that she hadn’t bothered to memorize between trying to figure things out and staying awake during David’s slow drawl. He stopped in front of a door, opening it for Jasper and stepping out of the way.

She peered inside. “Who does your decorating?” she muttered, looking at the console and the plain walls.

“No questions will be—”

“All right already! I got the point, thanks.” Jasper dropped her bags on the floor.

“Do you have any questions?” His voice was so flat, so unemotional. She wanted to kick him somewhere not nice and find out what he was constructed of. But she also didn’t want to get fired on her first day.

“Plenty. First of all, who’s my partner? There wasn’t anything mentioned in the letter I received. Second, is this it? Don’t I get to meet some of my fellow coworkers? Or do I just sit in here all day and wait for my pager to go off?”

“Your partner has yet to be determined. Your coworkers are all doing their duties. Social time may be spent in the cafeteria where you may acquaint yourself with them. You will spend the necessary time in your workspace until you are called to deal with a situation. Do you have any more questions?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Who do I call if I need help? Or instructions?”

“There is an outdated directory on the wall.”

Jasper finally just flung up her hands. “Great, all right. No, I don’t have any more questions, thanks for all your help.”

David turned and left just as silently as he’d appeared.

She slammed the door, crossed her arms, and stared around her as if she could make her surroundings change through sheer mental force. It wasn’t working. Sighing again, Jasper decided there was only one way to get started: unpacking.

At least until her first mission came in. Or her partner showed up.

[A/N: This is, of course, a spin-off on Jay and Acacia’s much-acclaimed and frankly, brilliant, work. You guys are awesome! Anyway, am I going to fly this alone, or is there a prospective partner out there..? I’ve got email, don’t hesitate to zap me something. ;) ]

Source: Wayback Machine

Published: 2002/04/24 [Fanfiction.net]