Disclaimer: See previous chapters. Getting really tired of this...

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"Does the computer have anything better to do than BIP all the time?" Mackenzie's muffled (yet annoyed) voice came out from the provisions cabinet, where she was searching for some Hershey's Cookies & Cream™ bars and replacements for the decimated Toblerone™. Of course, the traces of 'Sue in her compelled her to throw in a bottle of mineral water; the traces of PPC that have started building up already compelled her to throw in some cans of Diet Pepsi™ and a thermos of Dunkin' Donuts™ French Vanilla coffee; and the rationalist in her (which was already hidden behind the bloodlust that commence with Aeronwen's death) wondered just how hyper she could get on that much caffeine and sugar (and how many brand names she could throw into one paragraph).

"Yes, it does," Nate said while rattling the weapon rack again, looking for a tool of destruction to fit his mood (thoroughly pissed). "It just chooses to do it more frequently when you're here. Call it an unofficial initiation ceremony."

"Then what does the real thing involve?" Mackenzie asked, pulling her head out of the cabinet and walking 3 paces to the refrigerator/oven-type-thingy-to-keep-things-warm/replicator (on permanent loan from Agent Steiner from the Bad Slash: Star Trek continuum) unit. She dropped her hyper-attack-inducing duffel bag on the green couch next to the bizarre highly impromptu kitchen and started digging for some normal food – namely, Chinese. (The only type of takeout worth eating, except Italian.) Throwing some cold packaged egg-rolls into her bag, she considered adding the ramen noodles, but decided against it, putting in a couple of fortune cookies. She then ambled over to the console to check out their mission.

"Hmmm…" Mackenzie said speculatively. "This one is creative…" Taking a closer look at the screen, she snorted. "Right. And I'm the Queen of Gondor."

"You wish you were," came a mutter from the corner.

"Shut it," Mackenzie snapped. "This one snags Elrohir. The one thing that I hate the most – except loss of chocolate – is authors that read the books and still commit these crimes against canon." She scrolled down, and grinned. "We get to be ELVES."

"Yippee!" Nate crowed. "I finally get to see my incredibly handsome self again!"

Mackenzie inwardly highly doubted that, but she didn't comment. Instead, she set the disguise thingy, tapped in the coordinates and hefted the bag onto her shoulder. A cold wind blew through her head, and she yelped.

"Don't forget my axe," Nate said coolly. Mackenzie grumbled, but took the axe into her free hand and pressed the big red button to deploy the portal. A shimmering oval appeared in the air; beyond the purgatory-like mist that covered it, she could make out the cold plains of the Northern regions of Middle Earth.

"Hope the disguises include coats," she muttered, and stepped through the portal.

Her feet hit soft turf, and she looked down to find herself standing on top of the snow. She cautiously picked up her foot, and stamped it down on the snow; raising it again, she saw no sign that anything had touched the snow in the last 300 years.

While she was repeating this, she failed to notice the presence of another being in her surroundings until Nate whupped her upside he head. She yelped and turned around, and almost fainted. Nate wasn't lying when he said that he was handsome when he was alive. In fact, he was drop-dead gorgeous. His hair was coal-black, and grey eyes glinted as if they were dipped in glue and then sprinkled in silver sparkles.

And now that he was an Elf, well…it made it even better.

Mackenzie didn't notice that she was staring (and shivering so violently that someone else would've thought that she was having a seizure) until Nate bitch-slapped her. She gasped furiously, holding a hand to her cheek and glaring at Nate. He sighed, clearly annoyed, and said, "It was the only way to rouse you from the stupor that my looks have put you in. You'll have time to gawk later." He stomped towards the vague-looking village that was a mile or so away from them, and Mackenzie followed.

He's definitely a rotten apple, Mackenzie gloomily thought as she trudged on behind him.

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Tengra leapt through the air, imagining no tune in particular. She spun and sang out her feelings in a clear voice.

"Ugh," Mackenzie winced, squinting at the Sue between the trees that they were hidden behind. "Not only does the grammar suck, this Sue has to have a 'clear' voice."

Nate was next to her, scribbling in the pad yet again. "Hmmm…" he murmured. "Didn't quite catch her name…" he pulled out his CAD and pointed it at the twirling girl.

-Tengra Seregaha. Female Elf. Mary Sue.-

Suddenly, the Sue perked up, her eyes gleaming with what could only be described as bloodlust. She dashed towards the village with all the grace of a deer, while the two agents followed her in a swift but silent advance.

When they reached the village, the scene that lay before them was one of disaster. Houses were burning, Elves were lying dead in the dirt and Orcs – Orcs were everywhere. Slashing at the ones that were still alive, savaging the ones that had been sent to Mandos' Halls already and roaring with the joy of death.

Even though this wasn't a real village, these weren't real Orcs and the Elves in the dirt were only bit characters, the stench of Orc and burning bodies was still very much real. Mackenzie's eyes widened and she looked as if she was going to swoon, when strong arms caught her from behind. "Steady now," a voice murmured in her ear, and she was leant against a stone wall, away from the battle.

"I thought you were tougher than that," the voice said again, but this time, the owner of said voice was right in front of her. Mackenzie blinked; he looked suspiciously familiar…didn't he clean the toilets in her local cinema?

"Here, take," he said, handing her two pills. She put them in her mouth and bit down; they tasted like cleaner fluid – bleach, to be more exact. Suddenly wide awake, she started coughing, and the apparition handed her a bottle of water. She gulped it down, and sighed as the taste was washed out of her mouth.

"Must be outdated," the apparition muttered, shaking the bottle of pills. Mackenzie blinked again, and her vision sharpened. It wasn't an apparition – it was Nate.

Shame. She was hoping for an entertaining –

"Are you coming?" Nate was on his feet already, and (only because she had no other choice) Mackenzie grabbed the hand that he held out to her and pulled herself up. Dusting herself off, she nearly fainted again. The scene around her was blurry and she didn't smell anything different, but Nate was sharp. It was as if her mind was blocking out the horrible scene of slaughter in front of her. Mackenzie blinked. What scene of horrible slaughter? She seemed to remember…but then again…it was dim…

"Bleeprin," Nate said, as he unzipped Mackenzie's pack and searched for the remote activator to portal ahead 700 years to Bree. "Invented by Meir Brin of the HFA. Fuzzes the effect badfic has on your brain. I gave you the extra-strength, so it's going to disappear from your mind except as a dim wisp of thought."

Mackenzie said nothing, just stepped through the portal.

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Sitting outside of the Prancing Pony on a low stone wall, Mackenzie was nibbling on a bar of Irish Cream-filled milk chocolate from Israel (another gift from Agent Steiner; Mackenzie was seriously considering marrying the man if he ever proposed, only for his chocolate supply) and Nate was swinging his feet. They were waiting for 'Tengra' to arrive in Bree; they had portalled in a little earlier on purpose, so Nate could get some rest and Mackenzie could get some fresh air and rejuvenate with some chocolate. Mackenzie was recuperating nicely, but Nate couldn't close his eyes. He had something building up in him, something big, that he had to get out before he exploded…

"I'm gay," he blurted out to Mackenzie, who paused for a moment, looked at him and then went right back to her chocolate as if no one had just come out of the closet to her.

Nate frowned; he had done it at that moment on purpose, wanting Mackenzie to choke on her chocolate. Unfortunately, she didn't.

After chewing a chunk of the chocolate thoughtfully, she swallowed and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I knew it. Not only did you work in the Bad Slash department, you also boast about your looks and like Rand, when nobody in their right mind would like someone so angsty. I, personally, like Perrin. But that's just me – wolfish men magnet." Only hesitating a short moment, she broke off a piece of her chocolate and offered it to Nate. He looked at her – her eyes were understanding. He nodded, smiled, took the chocolate and took a bite.

He didn't know Mackenzie that well or long, but he knew her enough to realize that when she offered him her chocolate, it was her way of saying 'I think you're just fine'.

He chewed contemplatively. It felt good to be thought of as fine.

"A cute name." She thought. "The owner's daughter must've named it."

"JESU CHRISTO!" Mackenzie yelped, jumping off the low wall that they were perched on and pulling Nate off with her. "She went in and we didn't even notice," she muttered. "Not good." She practically flew into the inn, with Nate hot on her heels.

Entering the pub, Mackenzie looked at the keg of ale behind the counter longingly. "Sometimes," she said wistfully, "I wish I could be un-cloaked in Middle Earth, if just to taste the ale. Just a little sip…" She trembled, and Nate pulled her over to a vacated table in the corner and sat her down.

"In your state," Nate stated calmly, "I don't think you should have anything but Bleeprin, chocolate and chicken soup." Putting his palm to her forehead, he yelped and quickly withdrew; looking at his hand, he could see large, shiny burns developing already. "Man, this is bad," he muttered, and pulled a shivering Mackenzie to her feet. "Let's get this over with and get you to the medics, fast."

Fumbling with the remote activator, he opened a portal to Rivendell and stepped through it, practically carrying a flushed Mackenzie through along with him.

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"Orcs! Rally the fighters!"

"How many Glorfindel?"

"Five score! All marked up with red circles!"

Tengra shot awake. Images of the orcs who had slaughtered her kin leapt into her brain. They had been big, burly, and covered in crimson, circular scars from red hot brands. She grabbed Mothdagor, Ereb, Vanwa, and her bow and quiver. She pulled on her boots, not bothering to change out of her dress, and raced toward the gates of Rivendell, Bloodrage building up, fueled by the pain of her tribe's murder. She ran pell-mell past the organized ranks of elven warriors, headed by Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir.

Two strange Elves stepped out from the ranks, and one of them held a large, gilded blue-and-gold shield in front of him. He held it out in front of Tengra, and she crashed into it before she could stop herself.

It was quite comical, actually, to see her body collide with the hard plates of mithril and fly back in the air in a graceful arc before landing at Elladan's feet. Picking her up, he started sobbing like a pansy; he then heard a scream of rage, and looked up to see the companion of the Elf that concussed Tengra stomping towards him. Stopping when she was inches from his face, she slapped him – hard – across the face, and then pulled Tengra from his arms and stomped back to her companion.

He pulled out a bottle of water, splashed it on Tengra's face to wake her and then poured some into his mouth. After he finished drinking, he stuffed the bottle back into his pack and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "Shall I do the honors, Mackenzie?" he asked the still-fuming elleth beside him. She nodded, too enraged to speak.

He cleared his throat and made as if to straighten his tie when he realized that he had none. Rubbing his chin instead, he said to the struggling Tengra (who was being held down by the female Elf), "Tengra Seregaha, I hereby charge you with messing with the characters of Elrohir, Elladan, Elrond and Aragorn; having an unbearably beautiful voice; causing thousand-year-old elves to behave like spoilt human teenagers; bolding the whole EFFING story – which lead to a whole bottle of Visine being used in 5 minutes; atrocious overuse of exclamation points, absence of normal grammar and no apostrophes visible on the horizon; causing Middle Earth characters to use modern slang; having color-changing eyes; creating a location mini-Balrog; stealing Kari's man, and being a Mary Sue." Looking to the female Elf beside him, who was holding Tengra by her hair with a dangerous glint in her eyes, he said, "I'll give you the honor of taking her down, Mackenzie."

The Elf called Mackenzie smiled sadistically. "Thank you, Nate. How kind of you. Would you hold her up for me, please?" Nate held the biting and kicking Tengra up by her hair (the warrior was surprisingly light – after all, she was an airhead) and away from himself with one hand; her feet weren't touching the ground.

Mackenzie reached behind her back and pulled out two bone-handled knives; their long blades glinted in the late afternoon sun as she held them against the Sue's throat. The 'Sue started whimpering. Mackenzie was about to slash her throat when Nate stopped her. "WAIT!"

Mackenzie lowered her knives and glared at Nate, her cheeks flushed with bloodlust and high fever. "This," she growled, "better be VERY, VERY good."

"I'd like to have a hand in the killing," he said. She considered it for a moment and nodded. Handing him one of the knives, they held the blades against the Sue's throat, one above the other.

"Any non-sentimental last words?" Mackenzie asked sweetly, summoning up some of her nearly extinct Suvian charm to make the girl squirm.

"TENGR-"

Swish. The Elvish-made blades cut swiftly and surely, making a soft sound as they cut through the Sue's neck. The crowd of Elves in front of them flickered once, twice, and then disappeared – after all, there were never Orcs with red branded circles in their flesh, so there was no reason whatsoever for the Elves to be standing at the gates.

Mackenzie pressed on the remote activator and stepped through the portal that appeared. Nate followed her, holding the body by the hair. A soon as he stepped through, he disappeared and the body slumped to the floor.

"What were you planning on doing with the body, Mackenzie?" he asked. She didn't answer, just strode to the bookcase next to the closet and pulled out a slim booklet. She leafed through it, muttering all the while, until she pointed at something and grinned. "Number 10 looks like an excellent idea," she said. Snapping the booklet shut, she strode over to the console, tapped out coordinates and pressed the big red button.

The portal that opened brought sounds of fierce growling into the room. Mackenzie picked the Sue up and threw her into the portal; running over to the console, she closed the portal before any of the Wargs (at least, Nate ASSUMED they were Wargs) made their way into response center F.

Only then did Mackenzie allow herself to faint. Nate sighed and flew out the door, searching for someone to take care of the agent, and didn't seem to notice the pair of gleaming eyes in the corner of the room.

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(Mackenzie's A/N: -SNIFFLE- Colds suck. Especially when your parents don't believe you and force you to stay at school. Bah. Anyways, the story is from - they all are, unless I say otherwise. This one was horrible. Besmirching Elrohir's reputation - AND stealing him away from Kari - is punishable by death. Which she was...but that's a different matter entirely.

I should stop rambling, shouldn't I? Yes. Anyways.

NEED more agents. Too many 'Sues. Am drowning in sparkly, pink flood. Send me an e-mail if you want to help, telling about your qualifications to be an agent, your lust object and anything else you find important.

Until the next 'Sue!)