The Cleaners
Author: Anime Ronin
Summary: This is my take on what could have happened to Marcie Ross – note, I am a Tom Clancy fan, so don't be too surprised by what you read.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, so deal with it.
Timeline: Starting just at the end of S2 – S3 hiatus; Marcie's past year will be explained eventually.
Pairings: None, for now.
** ** Telepathy ~ ~ Private thoughts
Marcie Ross packed away the last of her admittedly limited number of things into the final box she had been supplied by The School; she didn't know the real name of it and probably never would, but what she had been taught there was going to help her in her new career. Sure, maybe killing people and espionage weren't for most people, but then again most people didn't have the ability to turn transparent at will because she thought she was invisible while at her old high school back in Sunnydale.
Marcie looked up for a second and caught her reflection in the mirror – a little taller than average, muscled like a swimmer or a runner, with honey- streaked brown hair, dark gray eyes and skin that needed to get out in the sun a little more in the opinion of her best friend at The School. Her face was somewhat plain, forgettable, but in her line of work that was good because if you stuck out, you had a target planted on you and then could not do your job effectively; she'd never really liked that she was forgettable before, especially since that was one of the reason she had been turned invisible at Sunnydale High, but as Van put it, everyone had features about themselves they didn't like.
It had been a month after her initial arrival that she had met the quiet young man from Texas – she was still invisible and practicing her stealth skills in one of The School's numerous little gardens when she happened upon him doing Tai Chi in a pair of sweat pants and a tank top; he was a half a head taller than her at six feet tall, a deceptively heavy two hundred and eighty nine pounds (though he looked to be two hundred pounds because he had no body fat at all), with unruly brown hair that seemed to defy gravity at times and icy blue eyes that seemed to skim over everything and miss nothing. Quite frankly, he was cute, but he also was more than he appeared to be when he looked right at where she was standing and bade her welcome.
//Flashback//
"Welcome, Miss Ross." The young man she had been watching for the past several minutes bowed to her as a sign of respect, "How may I help you?"
"How can you see me?" It was a stupid question as she knew he couldn't see her, but how did he know she was there?
"I can smell your scent, hear your heart beating and your respiration – people often forget that what you see is only a small fraction of what is really there." He walked up to within an foot of her and held up his right hand, palm out, and waited.
Marcie stood there for a minute, unsure what to do, but then raised her own hand, palm out and matched it up to his; his hand was strong and callused, she got that immediately, but she could not get over that fact that somebody knew she was there.
//End Flashback//
That was when it happened the first time; for just a few seconds she was able to become partially visible – ghost-like and somewhat fuzzy, but there – and when he told her that she immediately broke down into wracking sobs. Somebody had actually SEEN her, perhaps for the first time since freshman year of high school, and she couldn't help but cry.
Van, for his part, apologized for making her cry and held on to her at her behest; his arms were like chiseled granite and were rather warm, which she noticed as he hugged her lightly and she continued to cry. He was, somewhat surprisingly, something of a sentimental guy despite the fact that he was able to kill with his bare hands, feet, elbows, knees, and his claws, which shocked the hell out of her until she found out about what had happened the Halloween after she left Sunnydale – he had been visiting an aunt and was forced to dress up as Wolverine and, because of the spell, he had been granted the healing factor, senses, reflexes, memories and adamantium skeleton of the comic book character.
** Okay, how much of a geek am I that I know just who the guy he was turned into really is? God, I need a life. **
A knock came at her door and Van poked his head in, smiling, before he spoke in his native Texas Twang, "Ready, See-Through?"
She hated her codename, and wanted to shoot the guy who gave it to her, but Van would recover from it too quickly for it to mean much, "Whenever you are, Marvel!"
He grimaced at that, then opened the door and accepted the last of her boxed – accuse Van Davidson of anything you wanted, but he was nothing if not a gentleman, "So, you ready for our first cover story and assignments?"
She smiled, "Sure, well, as prepared as I can be. I mean, we're actually CLEANERS! Only one or two people every three classes ever get that title and we did it like it was as natural as breathing."
He smiled as they approached their destination, "Yeah, but not everybody can go invisible, or has an indestructible skeleton, or has animal senses, or ..."
Marcie sighed, hitting the down button on the elevator, "You really know how to ruin the mood, Van."
"Subtlety isn't my thing, sweety, and you know that." Marcie felt her heart rate pick up slightly at his pet name for her; nobody but her grandfather had ever called her that and now a cute guy called her that as a pet name.
** And he is also your best friend, Ross. Jeez, you need a life AND a date, STAT. ** "Yeah, true, but you could work on it every once in a while, you know."
The ride down to the first floor was made in silence with Van leaning against the back of the elevator car and Marcie leaning against him, both of them absently tapping their feet to the elevator music, Metallica's Devil's Dance {AN: now THAT is elevator music}. Neither really felt the need to fill their companionable silence with idle chatter, so they didn't; that was how they spent most of their nights together, actually – they were study partners and would often spend hours together without saying a word, not needing to as a look, a touch or a nod said all that needed to be said. Marcie found herself liking it so much that when given the option, she'd curl up next to him and read a book while he worked on a drawing or a book of his own, though he generally wrote them instead of reading them.
The elevator dinged and they exited the car, walking to where Van's newly- acquired Lexus was waiting to be filled with the last of her boxes – all three of them, her suitcase and a small trunk while he had only two boxes, a duffle bag and a larger trunk that held several items that she had heard him tinkering with but had yet to see. As Cleaners, they were sent into missions that had basically gone to hell and were to rectify the situation immediately by any and all means necessary – basically they followed the unofficial and rarely heard Ranger's creed of 'Subtlety is not in our creed' – and as partners they were shipped everywhere together; they had become partners because in school, after she had been able to become somewhat visible, they were virtually inseparable; the joke was that if Van wasn't there it's because he was in the men's room taking a leak and Marcie, being the sneaky bitch that she was, was probably three feet behind him enjoying the view. That allegation, however, was completely false – she never followed him into the bathroom, ever, as a sense of honor and trust between them ... though she never publicly denied it as it enhanced her reputation with the other girls in The School and Van never let anything phase him too much.
Marcie sat down into her 'co-pilot's' seat in the Lexus and waited for Van to take his place behind the wheel, "So, Partner, where to?"
He started the car with a grin, "First, we go to Vegas for a few nights off and then we are on our way to D.C. and our first assignment." He dropped the car into gear and pulled out of The School, headed east.
** I mean, who would have ever thought that a school that taught black operations tactics and techniques would have been located just outside of the town of Oxnard? **
Okay, that's it for part one of The Cleaners; I know Marcie seems kind of fluffy on Van, but he's the first guy she's ever been really seen by and she's still a teenager. Don't worry, she'll have the good sense to not fall in love with her best friend and partner – he's temporarily destined for somebody else.
CHARACTER STATS:
-Marcie Diane Ross Age: 18 (turned 18 three days prior to Fic beginning) Ht: 5 feet 7 inches Wt: 170 lbs Build: Runner/Swimmer Hair: Brown with Honey highlights and long (held back in 50's style bun) Eyes: Dark Gray Codename: See-Through Clearance: CLASSIFIED. Specializations: Reconnaissance and Stealth Assassination.
-Donivan Louis Davidson Age: 17 (two weeks younger than Marcie) Ht: 6 feet Wt: 289 lbs Build: Athletic/medium Hair: brown, shaggy and unruly (held back in a tail or under a cap or a bandanna) Eyes: Ice Blue (natural) Codename: Marvel Clearance: CLASSIFIED. Specializations: Sniper, Demolitions and Heavy Weapons.
Alright, a few pre-review notes: First off, Marcie is an assassination/point-woman/recon specialist in that she is the first on into a situation and gets a ground-level view of how things are any given area. Van is a sniper/heavy weapons/demolitions man even though he has the adamantium skeleton (it won't make play that big of a factor in this story); he and Marcie graduated early because of Marcie's uncanny ability to memorize anything and Van's basically being pre-trained with Wolverine's Weapon X training – he was a fair hunter before going to Sunnydale, so that and his size make him a good second banana. There will be a third member added in a few chapters, but no more because Cleaners work in groups of three – recon, sniper and tail; I know it seems like I'm making Van out to be some super soldier, but he's not – he's a 17 year old kid who was at the wrong place on the wrong holiday wearing the wrong costume.
Reviews, please – No Flames.
Author: Anime Ronin
Summary: This is my take on what could have happened to Marcie Ross – note, I am a Tom Clancy fan, so don't be too surprised by what you read.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, so deal with it.
Timeline: Starting just at the end of S2 – S3 hiatus; Marcie's past year will be explained eventually.
Pairings: None, for now.
** ** Telepathy ~ ~ Private thoughts
Marcie Ross packed away the last of her admittedly limited number of things into the final box she had been supplied by The School; she didn't know the real name of it and probably never would, but what she had been taught there was going to help her in her new career. Sure, maybe killing people and espionage weren't for most people, but then again most people didn't have the ability to turn transparent at will because she thought she was invisible while at her old high school back in Sunnydale.
Marcie looked up for a second and caught her reflection in the mirror – a little taller than average, muscled like a swimmer or a runner, with honey- streaked brown hair, dark gray eyes and skin that needed to get out in the sun a little more in the opinion of her best friend at The School. Her face was somewhat plain, forgettable, but in her line of work that was good because if you stuck out, you had a target planted on you and then could not do your job effectively; she'd never really liked that she was forgettable before, especially since that was one of the reason she had been turned invisible at Sunnydale High, but as Van put it, everyone had features about themselves they didn't like.
It had been a month after her initial arrival that she had met the quiet young man from Texas – she was still invisible and practicing her stealth skills in one of The School's numerous little gardens when she happened upon him doing Tai Chi in a pair of sweat pants and a tank top; he was a half a head taller than her at six feet tall, a deceptively heavy two hundred and eighty nine pounds (though he looked to be two hundred pounds because he had no body fat at all), with unruly brown hair that seemed to defy gravity at times and icy blue eyes that seemed to skim over everything and miss nothing. Quite frankly, he was cute, but he also was more than he appeared to be when he looked right at where she was standing and bade her welcome.
//Flashback//
"Welcome, Miss Ross." The young man she had been watching for the past several minutes bowed to her as a sign of respect, "How may I help you?"
"How can you see me?" It was a stupid question as she knew he couldn't see her, but how did he know she was there?
"I can smell your scent, hear your heart beating and your respiration – people often forget that what you see is only a small fraction of what is really there." He walked up to within an foot of her and held up his right hand, palm out, and waited.
Marcie stood there for a minute, unsure what to do, but then raised her own hand, palm out and matched it up to his; his hand was strong and callused, she got that immediately, but she could not get over that fact that somebody knew she was there.
//End Flashback//
That was when it happened the first time; for just a few seconds she was able to become partially visible – ghost-like and somewhat fuzzy, but there – and when he told her that she immediately broke down into wracking sobs. Somebody had actually SEEN her, perhaps for the first time since freshman year of high school, and she couldn't help but cry.
Van, for his part, apologized for making her cry and held on to her at her behest; his arms were like chiseled granite and were rather warm, which she noticed as he hugged her lightly and she continued to cry. He was, somewhat surprisingly, something of a sentimental guy despite the fact that he was able to kill with his bare hands, feet, elbows, knees, and his claws, which shocked the hell out of her until she found out about what had happened the Halloween after she left Sunnydale – he had been visiting an aunt and was forced to dress up as Wolverine and, because of the spell, he had been granted the healing factor, senses, reflexes, memories and adamantium skeleton of the comic book character.
** Okay, how much of a geek am I that I know just who the guy he was turned into really is? God, I need a life. **
A knock came at her door and Van poked his head in, smiling, before he spoke in his native Texas Twang, "Ready, See-Through?"
She hated her codename, and wanted to shoot the guy who gave it to her, but Van would recover from it too quickly for it to mean much, "Whenever you are, Marvel!"
He grimaced at that, then opened the door and accepted the last of her boxed – accuse Van Davidson of anything you wanted, but he was nothing if not a gentleman, "So, you ready for our first cover story and assignments?"
She smiled, "Sure, well, as prepared as I can be. I mean, we're actually CLEANERS! Only one or two people every three classes ever get that title and we did it like it was as natural as breathing."
He smiled as they approached their destination, "Yeah, but not everybody can go invisible, or has an indestructible skeleton, or has animal senses, or ..."
Marcie sighed, hitting the down button on the elevator, "You really know how to ruin the mood, Van."
"Subtlety isn't my thing, sweety, and you know that." Marcie felt her heart rate pick up slightly at his pet name for her; nobody but her grandfather had ever called her that and now a cute guy called her that as a pet name.
** And he is also your best friend, Ross. Jeez, you need a life AND a date, STAT. ** "Yeah, true, but you could work on it every once in a while, you know."
The ride down to the first floor was made in silence with Van leaning against the back of the elevator car and Marcie leaning against him, both of them absently tapping their feet to the elevator music, Metallica's Devil's Dance {AN: now THAT is elevator music}. Neither really felt the need to fill their companionable silence with idle chatter, so they didn't; that was how they spent most of their nights together, actually – they were study partners and would often spend hours together without saying a word, not needing to as a look, a touch or a nod said all that needed to be said. Marcie found herself liking it so much that when given the option, she'd curl up next to him and read a book while he worked on a drawing or a book of his own, though he generally wrote them instead of reading them.
The elevator dinged and they exited the car, walking to where Van's newly- acquired Lexus was waiting to be filled with the last of her boxes – all three of them, her suitcase and a small trunk while he had only two boxes, a duffle bag and a larger trunk that held several items that she had heard him tinkering with but had yet to see. As Cleaners, they were sent into missions that had basically gone to hell and were to rectify the situation immediately by any and all means necessary – basically they followed the unofficial and rarely heard Ranger's creed of 'Subtlety is not in our creed' – and as partners they were shipped everywhere together; they had become partners because in school, after she had been able to become somewhat visible, they were virtually inseparable; the joke was that if Van wasn't there it's because he was in the men's room taking a leak and Marcie, being the sneaky bitch that she was, was probably three feet behind him enjoying the view. That allegation, however, was completely false – she never followed him into the bathroom, ever, as a sense of honor and trust between them ... though she never publicly denied it as it enhanced her reputation with the other girls in The School and Van never let anything phase him too much.
Marcie sat down into her 'co-pilot's' seat in the Lexus and waited for Van to take his place behind the wheel, "So, Partner, where to?"
He started the car with a grin, "First, we go to Vegas for a few nights off and then we are on our way to D.C. and our first assignment." He dropped the car into gear and pulled out of The School, headed east.
** I mean, who would have ever thought that a school that taught black operations tactics and techniques would have been located just outside of the town of Oxnard? **
Okay, that's it for part one of The Cleaners; I know Marcie seems kind of fluffy on Van, but he's the first guy she's ever been really seen by and she's still a teenager. Don't worry, she'll have the good sense to not fall in love with her best friend and partner – he's temporarily destined for somebody else.
CHARACTER STATS:
-Marcie Diane Ross Age: 18 (turned 18 three days prior to Fic beginning) Ht: 5 feet 7 inches Wt: 170 lbs Build: Runner/Swimmer Hair: Brown with Honey highlights and long (held back in 50's style bun) Eyes: Dark Gray Codename: See-Through Clearance: CLASSIFIED. Specializations: Reconnaissance and Stealth Assassination.
-Donivan Louis Davidson Age: 17 (two weeks younger than Marcie) Ht: 6 feet Wt: 289 lbs Build: Athletic/medium Hair: brown, shaggy and unruly (held back in a tail or under a cap or a bandanna) Eyes: Ice Blue (natural) Codename: Marvel Clearance: CLASSIFIED. Specializations: Sniper, Demolitions and Heavy Weapons.
Alright, a few pre-review notes: First off, Marcie is an assassination/point-woman/recon specialist in that she is the first on into a situation and gets a ground-level view of how things are any given area. Van is a sniper/heavy weapons/demolitions man even though he has the adamantium skeleton (it won't make play that big of a factor in this story); he and Marcie graduated early because of Marcie's uncanny ability to memorize anything and Van's basically being pre-trained with Wolverine's Weapon X training – he was a fair hunter before going to Sunnydale, so that and his size make him a good second banana. There will be a third member added in a few chapters, but no more because Cleaners work in groups of three – recon, sniper and tail; I know it seems like I'm making Van out to be some super soldier, but he's not – he's a 17 year old kid who was at the wrong place on the wrong holiday wearing the wrong costume.
Reviews, please – No Flames.