TITLE: Who You Gonna Call?

Author: Jos Mous

Email: wotan_anubis@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any characters and I’m not making a profit.

RATING: PG

PAIRING: Sam/Brooke kind of.

NOTE: I suck at endings. I really do. My apologies in advance.

It was another beautiful day at Kennedy High, but Nicole and Mary Cherry paid little attention to the weather since they had something far more important to take care of. They were peering intently around a corner into the adjoining hallway, looking for any kind of movement. They were so focussed that they completely failed to notice Brooke walking up behind them.

“Hey guys.”

Nicole and Mary Cherry jumped, turned around briefly to see who it was then turned to look back around the corner. Brooke frowned, noticed the piece of string Mary Cherry was holding on to tightly and then peered around the corner as well.

“Is that a DVD attached to a piece of string lying in the middle of the hallway?” Brooke asked.

“Hush,” said Nicole. “It’s a trap.”

“I can see that,” said Brooke. “What kind of trap?”

“Wahll, it came to our attenteeyon that thare’s a lesbeeyan on school wit’ us.”

“Really?” said Brooke.

“So we put some obscure European DVD about two girls falling in love out there as bait,” said Nicole.

“Uh-huh.”

“And when our hapless lesbeeyan picks it up, we’ll corner her and beat the love o’ Jesus into ‘er.”

“Right,” said Brooke. “But Mary Cherry, didn’t you once say you love the gays?”

“Oh, well, the gays, yes,” said Nicole. “We’ve no problem with them. They know all about fashion, hairstyles and interior decoration.”

“Plus, the only thing more scandalously sizzling than one fain specimen o’ manhood is two fain specimen o’ manhood,” said Mary Cherry. “But two womenfolk doing tha nasty is jus’ nasty.”

“Oh, OK, that’s not hypocritical at all,” said Brooke. “But don’t you think any… err… real lesbian would’ve just bought that DVD by now?”

Nicole and Mary Cherry looked at each other.

“Small flaw in the plan, Mary Cherry,” said Nicole.

“Sounds laik,” said Marry Cherry. “Does this mean…?”

Nicole shuddered. “Plan B.”

“Waill Brooke, it’s been great talkin’to ya, but we gotta go on a mission of most dangerous peril.”

“Right,” said Brooke. “See you later then.”

Nicole and Mary Cherry started to stalk off, but Brooke soon called out to them.

“So what are you going to do with the… bait?”

Nicole looked irritated. “Oh I don’t know. We’ve no further use for it. Dispose of it for us, will you?”

“Oh sure,” said Brooke cheerfully. “I’ll… make sure to get rid of it for you. Yes.”

Mary Cherry smiled. “Whatta gal, eh Nic?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Nicole and Mary Cherry, two women with a mission, stalked onto the Kennedy High parking lot, making their way towards Mary Cherry’s humm-vee, which was currently performing the duty of Mission Mobile.

Nicole stopped and put her hand on Mary Cherry’s arm.

“Wait, can you hear that?”

Mary Cherry listened intently, then her face brightened up. “Country! The life music of mah beloved motherland!”

“Listen closer,” Nicole snapped.

Mary Cherry eagerly did so. Pretty soon, however, her face clouded. “Mah Lord! That’s the famous, bisexual, Texan country and western singer Burgundy Bodine who has been in a stable relationship with the lesbian, French fitness and aerobics instructor Cavarrichi Vuarnet for over four years now!”

Nicole gave Mary Cherry a strange look. Mary Cherry thought nothing of it, because she thought that that’s the look people always used to look at other people.

“Yeah… that one,” said Nicole eventually.

“Lesbeeyan country! In our parkin’ lot!” Mary Cherry screamed.

“Looks like Plan B won’t be necessary after all,” said Nicole with no small amount of relief.

“It’s comin’ from over thare!”

Nicole and Mary Cherry dashed across the parking lot in the direction of the music.

“It’s coming from Carmen’s car,” Nicole sneered. “I should’ve known.”

The two girls reached the car and Mary Cherry yanked open the door.

“All right we’ve got… you… now?” Nicole said.

Mary Cherry and Nicole looked past the shocked Carmen and across the CD-covered interior of the car.

“What the…?” said Nicole.

“Oh mah,” said Marry Cherry.

“OK, I’ll admit it,” Carmen wailed. “I love country and western. But please don’t tell Lily, Sam or Harrison.”

“Oh Carmen… I love ya!” Mary Cherry exclaimed. “Err… in a totally platonic strictly non-sexual way, o’ course,” she added quickly

“Relax Carm,” said Nicole. “Your… secret is safe with us. Come on Mary Cherry, we’ve got work to do.”

Mary Cherry looked at Carmen, mouthed ‘call me’ at her, then closed the car door and dejectedly followed Nicole.

Nicole and Mary Cherry were back to back, surveying their strange and dangerous surroundings with vigilance and paranoia. They had to be careful, unspeakable horrors lurked around every corner. It was more than possible one of them would not make it, but it would be worth it in the end.

“Hello ladies, can I help you?” the thrift store owner asked.

Nicole and Mary Cherry looked over their shoulders at each other.

“We’re lookin’ for a… for a… Nic?”

Nicole closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. It was all for a good cause. She had to remind herself of that.

“We’re looking for a pair of second-hand dungarees.”

“Ah, follow me.”

The thrift store owner disappeared into the shadowy depths. Nicole and Mary Cherry carefully inched their way after him.

The trap was set and the bait was laid out, carefully put inside an airtight plastic bag with the words ‘BIO HAZARD’ on it in large, yellow letters. Mary Cherry was again firmly holding the string in both hands.

They were waiting for about ten minutes when a possible target appeared. It was probably female, but with the short hair and ungirly clothes it was hard to tell. The presumable girl walked towards the bait, looked at it, then reached down.

“Grab her!” Nicole yelled.

The captured being turned out to be a female after all and went by the name of Sheila Walton. She was also, currently, tied to a chair in the Kennedy High basement. A blackboard was in front of her and, more worrying, so was Nicole.

“OK, listen up,” Nicole barked. “There are three kinds of people in this world. Men, women and Gwyneth.”

“Does Gwyneth really count?” Mary Cherry mused. “I mean, is she still truly human or simply divine?”

“Shut up Mary Cherry,” said Nicole. She turned her attention back to the suspected lesbian, who was looking at her with even more horror than roughly ten seconds ago. “Now then, women do it with men. Men do it with men. Everyone would like to do it with Gwyneth. However, women do not do it with women. That’s just plain unnatural and we don’t like unnatural things.”

“Except plastic surgery, fashion clothes, make up, cooked dinners, shops, the internet, big cars, private jets, mansions and lots and lots of money,” said Mary Cherry.

“Which are as close to being natural as makes no difference,” said Nicole.

“But… but I’m not gay,” said the hapless Sheila.

“Oh please gal, look at yeas,” said Mary Cherry. “Ye’re practically male.”

“That doesn’t make me gay,” said Sheila.

“Oh really?” said Nicole. “Who’s Ellen DeGeneres?”

“An actress.”

“Are Xena and Gabrielle a couple?” Nicole asked.

“I guess.”

“Will Hermione Granger be livin’ in sin with Ginny Weasley after the last Harry Potter book?” Mary Cherry asked.

“Say what?”

“Ah-ha!” said Nicole. “See? Two out of three! And you’re saying you’re not gay.”

“But… but…”

“Cease this at once!”

Mary Cherry and Nicole simultaneously looked up to the top of the stairs where somebody stood silhouetted against the light shining in through the doorframe. The intruder stepped forward.

“Spam?” Nicole said. “This is none of your business.”

“Oh I think it is,” said Sam. “You see, Brooke told me all about your little witch hunt and, trust me, that girl isn’t a lesbian.”

“How would you know,” said Nicole. “I mean, look at her.”

“I saw her already,” said Sam. “Not two days ago when she was making out with Harold David behind the dumpsters.”

Nicole and Mary Cherry looked at each other.

“Oh,” said Mary Cherry.

“Well I… guess she’s not who we’re looking for then.”

“Obviously,” said Sam.

“So can I please go now?” Sheila said.

“Yeah, yeah. Mary Cherry, untie her.”

After being untied, Sheila fled the basement as quick as she could, almost knocking Sam down in her hurry.

“I guess we’re back to square one yet again,” said Nicole.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Look, guys, I can save you the trouble. I’m the lesbian you’re looking for.”

Mary Cherry and Nicole looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“What? What?”

“You? A lesbian?” said Nicole. “Please. Just look at your hair.”

Confused, Sam ran both her hands through her hair and, through sheer random chance, ended up with a hairdo that looked halfway passable even in a good light. “What about my hair?”

“It’s so… long,” said Mary Cherry.

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Spam, please, I know you have a desire to be ‘different’, but let’s face facts. You’re not gay.”

“What, because I don’t look butch, is that it?”

“Spam, butch and lesbian are the same thing everybody knows that,” said Nicole, walking up the stairs. “You’re just not gay.”

“But… but… I really am gay,” said a bewildered Sam.

Mary Cherry patted her hand kindly. “Sure you are hun.”

Mary Cherry and Nicole walked across the parking lot towards the sun that, against all probability, was already setting.

“Well Mary Cherry, we met a bit of failure, but are we giving up?”

“Nope.”

“Nope indeed. In fact we’re-”

Nicole was cut off when a flying bra hit her face.

“What the?”

“It came from Brookie’s car window,” said Mary Cherry. “You think some studly quarterback hunk is gettin’ lucky in thare?”

“Probably,” said Nicole, smirking. “Now then, where was I?”

“We were gonna do sum’thing,” said Mary Cherry loyally.

“Right,” said Nicole. “Well then, we’re-”

She was cut off again when a second airborne bra hit her. It too had come from Brooke’s car. Nicole and Mary Cherry looked at each other and shrugged.

“Wahll, boys will be boys,” said Mary Cherry, voicing the thoughts of both of them. “Ah’m not judgmental, me.”

“In any case, we’re- I was not just hit by a pair of panties!”

“Ah’m afraid ye was, Nic,” said Mary Cherry.

Nicole groaned. “Screw the speech. To the Mission Mobile!”

And as the Mission Mobile rode off towards the inexplicable sunset, Nicole and Mary Cherry’s intended target and her girlfriend were completely oblivious to the fact that the finest pair of lesbian hunters Kennedy High had ever seen were hot on their… were sort of on their trail and would surely catch them.

Eventually.

Perhaps.