Wow, it’s been forever since I’ve written a fic.  Let’s see if I remember
how to do this.  Usual disclaimers apply:  FK belongs to other people, no
infringing going on here.  Permission to archive granted to Mel, Anita
and any DP who wants it, others just drop me a note.  Feedback is loved
and will hopefully get those creative juices flowing more often.  All my
bases covered?  ‘Kay, lets go.

Favorite Show (1/1)
By: Cousin Mary (Jenkins)

                Urs looked down at the watch on her wrist and then across
the sports bar to her master, waiting.  Sure enough, at exactly 7:00
Vachon caught the bartender’s eye and “suggested” he turn off the game
and change it to 7.  ‘Agents’ was on.  

        To tell the truth, ‘Agents’ wasn’t really a front runner in the
realm of reality TV.  It got decent ratings and was respected by critics
–slightly- more than the other more lowest-common-denominator shows, but
that wasn’t why her master was such an avid viewer.  Sure, the concept of
‘Agents’ was intriguing.  The show had started off with 20 men and women
from around the world.  They been told at the beginning of the show that
they were to be ‘spies’ for an ultra elite multi-national organization,
sent on assignments and that only a few of them were expected to last. 
There was no ‘voting off,’ if you were discovered while under cover you
were off, if you were caught by the police or any other entity, you were
off.  So far 2 of the ‘agents’ had been thrown into a Mexican prison, one
had been detained by the F.B.I, three had been brought in on suspicion of
bank robbery in New Zealand, and one had just disappeared entirely,
though the network swore he was all right.  But it wasn’t the spy games
that had Vachon tuning in every week without fail.  
        
        Urs took a sip of her ‘wine,’ as she watched the opening credits
light up the small, flickering bar TV.  After a moment a face and name
flashed by.  A slightly older, and much harder, Tracy Vetter was shown
standing on a beach in a bikini, night vision goggles in one hand and a
spear gun in the other.  That had been a good episode, she’d led her team
on a raid of the French embassy in Brazil, walking out with the red and
green flag that signified another win, and all without losing even one
member of her team.  In Vegas they were laying odds that the ex-cop from
Toronto would be the one to walk away with the million dollar prize. 

                Urs watched her master dispassionately.  His eyes were
wide and fixed on the screen.  His hands gripped the mug in front of him
so hard she thought it’d shatter.  They’d left Toronto, and indeed
Canada, after that mess with Lacroix’s daughter.  Later, long after it’d
happened, they heard through the grape vine that Tracy Vetter had been
shot, lapsed into a coma, been declared dead, only to later make a full
recovery.  She’d then surprised everyone by resigning from the force. 
Word was she was completely disillusioned and unwilling to trust another
partner.  Nick, the news had reported, had disappeared.  

                Urs sighed.  Vachon hadn’t seemed to miss his mortal much
at first.  It had almost been like old times again.  Yes, Screed was
gone, but they’d run into Bourbon and things had been good… for awhile. 
Then it happened.  Cover of ‘People’ and ‘TV Guide,’ the cast photo of
‘Agents.’  It had been like someone had staked him, that’s how thoroughly
they’d lost him that day.  Well, that wasn’t true.  Most of the week he
was almost normal.  Sure if he saw a new magazine article or something
she had to wait as he bought it and devoured every word.  But after he
was finished, he acted like nothing unusual was going on.  Once she’d
confronted him about what she’d called his “problem,” and he’d just said
that he was simply curious and a fan of the show.  It sounded almost
reasonable… ‘til Wednesdays at 7 o’clock rolled around, then all pretense
was swept away in the rush he made to the nearest television set.  He was
a man possessed.  Urs was sure if the bar caught fire during the show her
master would be toast before leaving that stool in front of that TV.

                Turning her attention to the episode, Urs watched as
Tracy once again came out ahead as other contestants were picked off one
by one.  This week she managed to steal an Egyptian army officer’s jeep,
with the flag hanging from the exhaust pipe, while he was investigating
the package she’d left on the barrack’s steps.  A clip of a smiling
Tracy, interviewed later on, explained that the package was filled with
various items such as baseball cards, pink stuffed rabbits, and salt and
pepper shakers, just the kind of odd assortment that would keep someone
distracted while you made off with their jeep.  When the show ended there
were only 3 players left, next week’s episode would be the last.  

Urs sighed.  She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Vachon wouldn’t
be worth much for the next week.  She was also pretty certain that the
world would be shocked when the winner of the spy show mysteriously
vanished, because it would have nothing to do with the game show.

Hope you liked it.  Send all comments and night vision goggles to
anteros@juno.com