Genre: Humor/Action/Adventure
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU, and a parody of a parody. Three female former convicts have been given a second chance as elite, undercover operatives. PG-13 for humor, language, violence, and possible rip-offs.
Recently I've become addicted to the television show 'She Spies' starring Natasha Henstridge. I know, I know, it's not the most compelling TV out there, but it's still pretty entertaining. This idea just popped into my head one day and I decided to give it a shot. It may flop, just like the show's ratings, but hopefully a few of you will get a kick out of it.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing used in this fic, not World Wrestling Entertainment, not 'She Spies' or 'Charlie's Angels' or any other similar shows showcasing three women fighting crime in skin-tight outfits. Any lawsuit threats and complains over violated copyrights should be e-mailed to this address: wallofjericho-webtv-net. He'll handle it.
Date uploaded: 26 February 2005
Chapter 01: d.i.v.a. Formation
It was early morning and the sun was shining, birds were singing, and a gentle breeze blew. All in all it would have been the perfect day, if one didn't have to view it through massive chain-link enclosures. Lita rolled her eyes and resumed her aimless walk around the prison exercise yard.
Black Hills Women's Correctional Facility was not the cheeriest place on earth, to say the least. The cells were crowded, actual facilities shot and you could get your eye put out for looking at another inmate the wrong way. Not much different from any other women's prison, and Lita, having been here a total of five weeks, desperately wanted out.
"You, number 27435!"
Pausing to stare outside the barrier at a bird that was gleefully hopping from one rock to another, Lita barely heard the barking behind her. She frowned at the bird, vaguely imagining that it was mocking her, jumping up and down and letting out stupid little chirps and…
"Inmate number 27435! You, by the fence!"
… grinning that smug little, beak-like smirk at her. At that moment all Lita could think about was getting out just to that she could snap that blasted bird's neck in two…
"Yo, REDHEAD! You're being called!" one of the other inmates suddenly yelled.
That was what made Lita snap her head up and turn around. She faced one of the guards, impatiently motioning for her to follow. "27435, I've been calling you for the past five minutes! You're not hearing impaired, are you? Get over here!"
Lita scowled. She disliked being ordered around as much as the other inmates in the place. "You expect me to answer to '27435'? Here's a novel idea, if you want someone's attention, call them by their proper name."
The guard frowned dangerously at her. "Watch it. Any more of that lip of yours and you'll find yourself in lockdown."
Lita obediently refrained from any more comments and followed as the guard began to lead her back into the building. After making faces at the guard's back, Lita then began to wonder why she had been called. Oh crap, had they actually found out that she was the one who had dumped that vat of lentils into the water system? It was a prank! But did that really call for having to bring her in to see…
"Wait, what am I being called for anyway?" she finally asked.
The guard just gave her a cryptic look. "You'll see."
>>>
Molly idly played with a lock of her hair. She was getting impatient. "How much longer do we have to wait?"
The warden, a platinum-blonde woman pushing mid-forties, looked up at her from behind the desk. Sable merely smiled. "I don't see why you're complaining. You, of all people, have all the time to wait."
Molly scowled, fully aware that Sable was mocking her and her two-year sentence. She crossed her arms over her chest sullenly and resigned herself to staring out a window.
Moments later the door opened. Molly looked up to see another fellow prisoner being ushered in, a redhead with a similar disgruntled disposition. The two eyed each other for a brief moment before Lita sat down in the chair beside Molly. They then both pointedly ignored each other and instead looked at the warden. "What's this all about?" Lita asked.
"You two have a visitor," Sable said, finally getting to the matter.
"Who?" Molly asked.
Sable gestured to one corner, where a man in a business suit was standing and looking just as impatient as the two were. "For crying out loud, Molly, I've been standing here this entire time. Are you telling me you didn't notice me at all?"
"I thought you were just another of Warden Sable's boy toys," Molly said, wrinkling her nose, as if the thought was filthy. "Wait, who are you and why do you know my name?"
"Heck, it's a welcome difference from 'Number 23991'," Lita muttered, having spotted the number on Molly's clothes.
The man turned to Sable. "Would you mind giving me a few minutes with the girls? This is a private matter, I think you understand."
Sable gave a languid sigh and slowly got up. "Whatever you say, oh big shot FBI agent. Watch out for the girls, though, they're not exactly harmless. Oh, and keep your hands off my paperweights," with that confounding warning Sable exited the room.
Lita and Molly's mysterious visitor waited for a few moments before promptly fiddling with the various paperweights on Sable's desk. Lita cocked an eyebrow. "What exactly are you doing?"
"That maniacal woman keeps her hidden security cams in these," he explained, apparently deactivating each one. "Not exactly the most subtle when it comes to references either."
"Actually she only keeps three among the paperweights, one in that ugly still-life painting over there and another in that small, bronze trophy on the top shelf," Molly suddenly spoke up. He other two looked at her. She shrugged. "Let's just say this isn't the first time I've been in here."
The two girls then watched as the man/visitor/suspicious FBI agent went about disabling the remaining cameras. "Third runner up Ms. Kentuckyville, 19—hey, the last two numbers have been scratched out," he muttered as he looked at the trophy.
Lita cleared her throat. "Not to sound rude, but I have another bitch fight scheduled at the yard today. Mind telling us who you are and why you're here?"
"What? Oh, right, yes," he said, setting the trophy down and straightening his coat. "My name is special agent Steven Richards of the FBI. You two are Molly and Lita, correct?"
"Numbers 27435 and 23991', you mean," Lita grumbled.
Steven took a file from his briefcase and opened it. "Lita, con-woman extraordinaire, wanted in six different states for breaking hearts and breaking vaults. Finally caught two months ago in Virginia for indecent exposure," Steven Richards cocked an eyebrow at her.
Lita rolled her eyes. "Apparently my thong was showing."
"I thought they hadn't implemented that law yet," Steven said.
"Yeah, well, the rookie cop who stupidly arrested me thought they had. I would have gotten away if somebody hadn't been smart enough to piece two and two together. Hard not to; there was a huge, blown-up picture of me in the station window."
Steven shook his head and then turned to Molly. "Molly Holly, arrested six months ago at a rally protesting animal testing. You may have gotten off lightly, if not for the past two records stating that you burned down a similar clinic in another city and destroying the outfits at a fashion show by the means of a hose and a vat of bleach. Oh, and slugging a bystander at said protest couldn't have been helpful either."
"Oh thank you, I hadn't realized that," Molly said sarcastically.
"You know, you could have been the darling of activists across the nation if not for that violent streak of yours."
"Popularity, infamy, either way it attracts attention," Molly said with a shrug. "Besides, do I look like I want to make friends? Now are you going to tell us why you're here or will you just keep stalling for the rest of the hour?"
"All right," Steven said, putting the files away. "I'll cut to the chase. I have a offer for the two of you."
"And what's that?" Lita asked.
"How would you like to become part of an elite task force assigned to combat crime and evil-doers at an almost week-to-week basis?"
His question was met with identical sardonic looks. It was Lita who finally spoke. "What?"
"You see, I've just been given the go-ahead to undertake this special project of mine," Steven said, taking the seat beside the desk and explaining with a proud grin on his face. "The premise is that we take a few women from this correctional facility, say three, hone their already learned skills and teach them a few more, such as defusing bombs, hacking files and kicking ass using cool martial arts moves, then pit them against the forces that they themselves once were. It's actually a brilliant piece of work, I must say, in fact, if you two are interested, I have the entire proposal right here; I just have to fish it out from my briefcase…" he then proceeded to stack an alarmingly large pile of sheets on the desk. "… It's just a little mixed up but you can pretty much get the gist of it, assuming you read it in order from beginning to end, including footnotes…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Lita slapped a hand down onto Steven's, cutting him off. "Slow down there. You lost me after 'go-ahead to undertake' the what to the huh and the how?"
"I understood it all just fine, despite that horrendous run-on sentence," Molly said frostily. "Basically you want to put us into a little unit, train us to work under and do your little, dirty jobs for you. Am I correct?"
"I'm glad to see one of you is listening," Steven beamed.
"Answer me this then, Mr. Richards- why should we?" Molly challenged, her eyes feral. "You are part of the institute that put us away. We are stuck in this godforsaken place because of morons like you. Give me one good reason why we should even consider this ridiculous offer!"
"Because it'll get you out of this 'godforsaken place'," Steven answered.
Suffice to say that caught both women's attention. "Say that again?" Lita said.
"You heard me," Steven said, looking satisfied. "Freedom. Oh well, freedom with limits at least. Stay with the program and you move out of Black Hills to a cozy little house with a fireplace, full bedrooms and sanitary toilet facilities. The more good you do the cleaner your personal record will look. This is the fabled second chance being given to you on a silver platter." He waited for it all to sink in before speaking again. "So what'll it be, ladies?"
Again it was Lita who spoke first. "Fuck it, I'm sold. Where do I sign?"
As Steven once again began to pull out papers from his briefcase, Molly spoke up again. "Wait, you mentioned there would be three of us, right?"
"Did I?" Steven said, feigning confusion. "Well I may have stated it hypothetically, I guess."
"No, it was definitely a definite thing," Molly said, already having proved that she was sharper than a double-edged sword. "So who's the third woman? And, more importantly, why isn't she in this meeting?"
Steven frowned as Lita reached across the table and willingly penned her name on the document. "About that third woman…"
>>>
"What's the matter, Stevie? Too much of a wuss to come in here and talk to me face to face?"
Outside the metal holding cell Steven swallowed nervously and peered into the small square of glass that served as a window. The finger pressing the intercom wavered the slightest bit. After he his meeting with Molly and Lita he had stopped putting off this final visit and made his way here. Now his voice came out strained, no matter how he tried to be calm. "You know perfectly well that I'm now allowed to enter any of the women's cells, Victoria, especially not these…"
"Oh, these little cells are almost starting to feel like home already. I think they already have this one specially reserved for me."
She was talking about the particular holding cells where an inmate would be locked down if she acted up and caused a considerable amount of disturbance. "What did you do again to get thrown in here, Victoria?" Steven asked.
"Oh, this and that. I tried to strangle another girl using a towel in the laundry area yesterday. Not that they should have worried; it's depressing enough in here without another tragic death."
"Are you still seeing that therapist we talked about?"
There was a dry chuckle and the sound of someone getting up. Moments later Victoria's slightly psychotic features came into view. She smiled at him. "Same old Steven. Well, actually this is interesting. Enough about me, let me get this straight. You want me, the very same criminal you spent two years chasing, a criminal you apprehended personally and has no doubt harbored a huge grudge on you for doing so, to join your merry little band of girl scouts?"
"It's an elite fighting unit, Victoria."
"Those two that you've handpicked are small fry compared to me and you know it," Victoria said, coming closer to the door.
"Don't knock them like that; they have their own useful skills."
"Believe whatever you want," Victoria shrugged carelessly. "But answer me this one little thing, Stevie. Why me? You know I hate you, and you aren't exactly fond of me either. Fear and loathing can't be your ideal working environment."
"Because there is nobody else," Steven conceded. "Don't get me wrong, Victoria, if there was anybody else even vaguely capable to carry out these duties I would bypass you for that person in a heartbeat. Plus I'm forced to admit that your knowledge of weapons and explosives, while disturbing, will come in handy."
Victoria gave him a calculating look. This man was much too trusting, that was his problem. It was also why it took him two whole years to catch up to her. "Are you absolutely certain that you want to take this risk by putting me in?"
"Yes," Steven answered. "Besides, if I know you you're bored out of your mind here. That's probably the main reason why you keep 'acting up'."
Well the guy was hardly an idiot. Victoria thought about it. "Will I get my own room?"
"Yes."
"Decent pay? Health and Dental care?"
"Yes, yes, and yes."
"Gym privileges?"
"The house where you'll be shaking up will have a fully equipped exercise room in the very least. And before you ask, yes, there will be no shortage of bad guys to beat up." Steven looked evenly at her. "So do we have a deal?"
Victoria smiled cunningly at him. "Absolutely. Now get me the fuck out of this cell."
>>>
Two days later found Lita and Molly waiting in one of Black Hills' 'recreation' rooms. Before they could actually move out of their less than stellar lodgings and stick it in the face of the poor suckers left behind, they had to undergo a significant amount of training in the correctional facility itself. And so here was the first day.
Molly actually held in her hands the incredibly thick sheaf of papers that Steven had said was the project proposal. Combating the utter dullness of the document, Molly had been determined to learn as much as she could about the program, so as not to get suckered into doing something she didn't want to do. Now she looked up. "Hey, you know what the name of this program is actually called?"
Lita paused from stretching for the moment. "No, what?"
"codename d.i.v.a.s., all lowercase."
"How cheesy," Lita sighed.
"That's not the worst part," Molly said. "The d.i.v.a.s. is actually an acronym for-"
She was cut off when the door was opened. The two of them looked up to see the third and final person of their unit making her first appearance. Victoria smiled as benignly as she could while the guard who had escorted her unclipped the handcuffs from her wrists. "Now you have to promise me that you'll be on your best behavior, Victoria."
"Of course. When have I been anything but?" Victoria said pleasantly, still smiling.
The guard shook her head in exasperation but took the handcuffs and left the room with a final warning glare.
Victoria turned to Lita and Molly. "Well, I suppose you two make up the rest of the team. Have you resigned yourself to working as flunkies yet?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Lita said, shrugging. "Anything to get away from this place and the noxious smell my cellmate seems to be giving off. You?"
"Eh, I've had my own share of degradation, this shouldn't be much different," Victoria said.
"Well here's another little detail to make it all the more intolerable," Molly said, motioning them over.
Lita and Victoria went to huddle over and see what she was pointing at on the document. It was at this moment that the door opened again and Steven Richards strolled in as casually as he could. Considering this was the launching proper of his program and he was going to be in a room along with his arch-nemesis and two other dangerous women, all of whom may not get along quite so well initially, he was nervous. He was pleasantly surprised to find them clustered together in one corner, talking about something.
"Well good morning, ladies. Nice to see that the three of you seem to be getting along well," he greeted.
All three of them turned to him and he froze, eyeing the sharp glares they were giving him. "Uh, is something wrong?"
"Steven," Molly said, dropping her usual formal tone of 'Mr. Richards', "would you mind telling us why in the hell the codename of this project actually comes down to an abbreviation of 'detectives in very atomic suits'?"
Now Steven was wishing he hadn't given those papers to Molly. "Now girls, let's not get carried away… that's not the actual term, I'm sure that the real title is somewhere on page 107…"
"Let's kill him," Lita declared.
"Hang on, you do realize that I'm now your supervisor and-" Steven cut himself off and gave a shriek that was heard throughout the entire penitentiary.
When the guards came to rescue him they found the FBI agent tied down to a chair and dressed in bits and pieces of skimpy women's clothing that the girls had found in the lockers in the room. All three of them spent the night in separate metal holding cells. All of them were fairly confident that they had fixed the problem of having to wear revealing outfits now, even if they were stuck with the godawful name.
>cont'd
This is just the start; I'm hoping that it gets better as the story moves along. I welcome comments, critiques, flames and suggestions. Cookies to those who can give it all in one review. Until the next chapter!