#beepatrice

[I just realized I never posted this short bit of Questionable content fanfic I wrote a while back here. This was written at my 5AM, so it could be better and all typos should be blamed on that. Still, it was a fun bit of speculative fanfic to write. Hopefully I did Claire and Beeps justice. I've been reading QC for over a decade.]

An older man in his mid fifties with a medium olive skin tone, and steely grey hair silvering at the temples enters the firing room. He's wearing what's clearly a military officer's dress uniform under the labcoat he has over it. He's finisjing up a phone call on his cell phone. COLONEL: "No, no. They just need to be self-guided, not sentient. I don't know which would keep me up more, a missile suddenly having a moral and existential crisis midflight, or one that wanted to blow things up.... Uh huh... I'm glad we agree on that....Well thank you for your time, Mx Tilly. And give that old coot and that bastard boyfriend of yours my regards. I miss 'em both." He chuckles to himself softly as he hangs up. BEEPATRICE: looking surprised "Colonel Brockherd! Our meeting wasn't for another hour." COLONEL BROCKHERD: strolling past Beeps and extending a friendly handshake to Claire "So you're our new hire, eh? Glad to have you aboard! Are you excited to join our R&D team?" He turns to Beepatrice. "Have you gotten her the nondisclosure forms yet? BEEPATRICE: hands up in protest "But sir, I-" COLONEL BROCKHERD: scowling slightly and raising one hand "Look, I know you hate paperwork, but you've got to get around to it eventually. Please just go get ger the NDA." BEEPATRICE: [somewhat frazzled] "Y-yes sir." She salutes a bit awkwardly and leaves the room, trading a nervous glance with Claire before exiting. COLONEL: big warm welcoming smile "Now then, I'm sure you're excited to see what this whole thing is a front for, but that will have to wait for a bit. I'm Col. Brockherd I doubt you've heard of me, but that's okay." CLAIRE: nervously shakes his hand. "Uhm... Claire Augustus. I'm trained as a librarian." COLONEL BROCKHERD: raises his eyebrows and leans back slightly. "Ahh! More on the research side of things, that's good. You don't look like a Ranger, but I bet you get that a lot. Some of our paperwork's a bit more disorganized than I'd like, but Beeps," jerks thumb back towards the door, "Beeps is a good kid. A bit spacey sometimes but a hell of a fine researcher." CLAIRE: "Well, that's ...good." Beepatrice returns with a stack of papers and nervously hands them to the colonel. The colonel starts flipping through them and scribbling his signature and initials on various pages. COLONEL BROCKHERD: still flipping through pages. "Say, that name sounds familiar. Augustus... Augustus....hmmmm." Handing over the stack of papers he starts indicating signature and initial lines to Claire. "We'll need you to sign here, here, initial here here and here. Sign here and here. And here. This is legal documentation, so please do read it before signing. It's important. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them." Claire looks up at the colonel, then to Beepatrice behind him. Beepatrice shrugs wide-eyed and frowning. Claire takes the papers and a deep breath before starting to read through and sign. CLAIRE: [very faintly] "What if you've mistaken me for someone else and I'm not supposed to be reading this?" COLONEL BROCKHERD: "I'm sorry, if you said something I didn't catch it. I am hard of hearing." He snaps his fingers. "I know where I know your name from now!" Claire and Beepatrice both look at him in surprise CLAIRE AND BEEPS: [in unison] "You do?" COLONEL BROCKHERD: points excitedly at Claire. "Scuttlebutt has it that one of my former soldiers is living with you. How's Bubbles doing, anyway? I heard about what happened to her squad." CLAIRE: "Um... Well she's doing pretty great. She's started a repair shop for sythetics with one of our other rommates. But business is a bit slow." COLONEL BROCKHERD: "That's great! I'll have to swing by some time and catch up. Might have to see if she can give my leg a better tine-up than the VA." There's a knock at the door and a generic looking AI chassis peeks in. INTERN AI: "there you are, Ms. Beepatrice. You're 10 o'clock is here for orientation." BEEPATRICE: [Very nervously] "Th-thank you." The colonel turns to Beepatrice

with a raised eyebrow.