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Pageant Title: Pageant Fandom: Kiddy Grade Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork. Characters/Pairings: Tweedledee, Un-ou Rating: AA Summary: This is how you catch the bad guys... really... Notes: From 0tp. 'consolation prize'
"Hold still," Tweedledee demanded, reaching to give Un-ou a polite-but-annoyed tap on the arm. "I am holding still," Un-ou replied, frowning. "Can you fix it?" "Of course," Tweedledee said. "I can do anything." She quickly stitched the hem that Un-ou had torn, once he stopped fidgeting. It wasn't like it really mattered. They weren't there to actually win, they were only after the human-trafficking component of the pageant, and Tweedledee knew she had more important things to do than fix hems. But... "Good." There was such a determined look on Un-ou's face that she rather had to indulge him. And also hope that her brother-- that Tweedledum and A-ou were hard at work on their own parts of the mission. She was playing the role of doting aunt and trying to suss details out the mothers and contestants - and out of their personal data devices when they weren't looking. "There," Tweedledee declared as she tied off the string and gave it a quick snip. "Good as new." "Okay!" "Wait!" somehow, she'd picked up the tone of the mothers -- she winced inwardly as she reached to fix Un-ou's hair. He'd been growing it out, so it was his own, but it was also frizzy and curly and despite dumping half a salon's worth of products into it, it was still frizzy and curly. Un-ou blinked and stared at her. Tweedledee wondered if she'd be acting the same if it was Viola who'd been available and not the most frustrating ES member she'd ever met. "Here..." she fixed his hair as best she could and then sent him back out to do his best. Un-ou hadn't been at all happy with the end result, of course, but Tweedledee hadn't minded. They'd caught all the bad guys, discovered a smuggling ring even bigger than they'd imagined, and everything had ended well. Not that Tweedledum ever had anything nice to say about the small, last-place-but-tried-so-hard trophy that she'd placed beside her home computer terminal. It was a small consolation, but a perfect one.
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