The Supremacy of the Suit
Jay v. Old Guys
Jay groaned as he collapsed into the visitor chair of Zed's office. He and Kay had just returned from yet another assignment where Jay ended up caked in alien goop and Kay was squeaky-clean. "Kay, man, we need to change up this routine. I'm tired of being slimed by the alien underbelly every time we visit."
"Sure, chief." Kay sat next to his partner. "Orange looks better on you anyway."
Zed chortled as Jay growled at his partner.
"Kay! Don't mess with me!" Jay groused. "Zaphindin slime lingers in the nostril hairs much longer than any other and always manages to find its way to places of uncomfortable mention." Jay thought about the last time he had encountered the upper-crust aliens who seemed to deal exclusively in the intergalactic trade of goldfinches. Even the smell of the decidedly unkempt aviary could not overwhelm the scent of the entrails. Jay shuddered in remembrance.
"Anything you say, slick. Thought you were tired of the underbelly." Kay dismissed his partner's grumbling, ignoring the lingering glower sent his way. "Zed, read that memo you sent earlier. Have we reinstated relations with our friends across the Atlantic? I had heard they weren't sending agents over anymore."
"Must have read an outdated, incomplete file, old friend." Zed replied. "One stopped sending field agents but not admin or tech specialists shortly after your retirement. Apparently Director Hartman felt it frivolous to carry on, UNIT training suited her approach much more. Daft woman. It's no wonder why the British government has been sticking their collective noses into affairs not of their concern."
Kay snorted. "Is that why there have been continual violations of the secrets act?" Zed nodded in acquiescence. "Joy. And Three?"
"Three holds the same agreement they always have. You missed their fresh meat in retirement." Zed teased the senior agent.
"One? Three? What the hell are you old guys talking about?" Jay was irritated at the conversation that he was unable to follow.
"Torchwood." The two said in unison.
"Huh?" Jay looked back and forth between the two men, waiting for the vagueness to be cleared up. None forthcoming and irritation increasing, he growled. "What's 'Torchwood'?"
"Oh, Zed, how could you?" Kay admonished his commanding officer.
Zed groaned, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Look, Kay, I couldn't risk anything at the time. Down two top field agents, hierarchal changeover in Torchwood. I suppose I could have tried later on, but junior here being so gung-ho and neural-izing agents left and right, I didn't think he would be able to contain himself long enough to survive a day with Jack, let alone a week."
"HEY! Still not answering my question. What. Is. Torchwood?" Jay refrained from tapping his foot in impatience.
"Torchwood is an organization that was created to do much the same things we do, except they've been around a hella lot longer and are only concerned with alien comings and goings in the United Kingdom." Kay recited. "We stay out of their way, we can ask for information, we accept and keep track of the tourists and semi-permanent residents. That's the official relationship we have."
"Seriously fellas, what is Torchwood?" Jay asked, doubting the veracity of Kay's speech. A pregnant pause filled the room. Looking from the commander to his partner, sensing no untruth, Jay decided to humor them both. "Okay, so exactly how long is a 'hella lot'?"
"Torchwood was established in 1879 by Queen Victoria after an encounter with an alien left her un-amused." Zed smirked at the gawping expression on the younger man's face. "Didn't expect that one, did you, tiger?"
Jay shook his head, scrunching up his eyes. "Fine, whatever! What's with the sudden history lesson anyway? And what memo?"
Kay snorted. "The one you always delete the moment it hits your inbox. The one marked 'Training'. Two Torchwood field operatives are on their way here for cross-training. The two of us are in charge of their activities for the duration."
"Ah, come on, Zed, Kay! I thought my days of tugging leashes of green boys was over when Kay returned!" Jay whimpered, slumping in the chair, covering his eyes with his forearm.
"Look at it this way, ace." Kay soothed. "You won't have to be slimed while they're here."
Jay crooked one incredulous eyebrow at the senior agent. Somehow that wasn't reassuring.
"Awe, c'mon, slick, you have only yourself to blame." Kay chided as the two agents stood outside in front of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority, the unassuming entrance to MiB headquarters. "Reading the memos would keep you in the loop and there are moments of hilarity to be found in them."
"Such as?" Jay grumbled. He had not read the non-personal memo postings since the third week with the agency. Most of the drivel in them were boring, dry and full of useless information that only the customs agents truly needed to know.
"The worms share some very interesting articles on occasion."
"Kay!" Jay turned green. "I don't need to read anything about the sexual habits of aliens that get laid more than a high class hooker!"
"Suit yourself."
An embarrassed silence fell between the two as they waited for the Torchwood operatives to arrive. Jay remained silent, not wanting Kay to reveal any more traumatizing factoids that could only lead him to neural-izing himself. Kay contemplated the idea of Jay meeting Jack and all the ways the youngster could embarrass himself in the older man's presence.
One standard issue black sedan pulled up to the curb, driven by the auto-pilot. The rear passenger door opened of its own accord, releasing a male passenger, early twenties, wearing a nicely tailored suit. He wore the unmistakable expression that he was about to explode from jocularity. The expression disappeared into a polite smile, eyes still shining in humor.
"My god, do you all dress like that?" Both agents homed in on the second passenger of the vehicle. She was older, maybe early thirties, long straight dark brown hair, wearing skinny jeans and a low cut top with a feminine too-small leather jacket. Both agents groaned mentally, albeit for different reasons. "And your man behind the wheel, is he new? Didn't seem to be able to answer any of my questions."
Apparently the young man had had enough. A laugh jerked him forward, nearly bending him in half. Guess he knows about the auto-pilot, Jay mused. Jay and Kay moved closer in a synchronous walk.
"Yes, ma'am, we do. The suit is standard issue for all MiB personnel." Kay answered in his standard no-nonsense monotone. "Your driver, in answer to your question, as a programmed automa-droid, his being new is irrelevant. He was never outfitted with a verbal protocol command."
The female gaped, realization dawning on her face. Her male companion had obviously known the truth the entire time. Rounding on him, she screeched. "You knew! The entire time you let me talk to a machine!"
The young man calmed gazed at the female. "You talk to your terminal all the time. Thought you might have preferred a machine with a human visage for a change." Ignoring the ruddy tone her face was turning, he turned his attention to the MiB agents. "Agent Kay, Agent Jay, thank you for meeting us. I'm Ianto Jones, this is Gwen Cooper. We're Torchwood."
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