giefu

Okay, here's that Middleman/Haruhi Suzumiya crossover I promised

flying_girl73 . I can't make any promises as to quality (both are fandoms that I've never written for before) but I hope that it is at least enjoyable! It's also the longest fic I've ever written, so you have that to look forward to, I guess. You might see why I usually write short :P

Anyway, without further ado, here you go. Don't say I didn't warn you.

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Takeshi Takeda didn't know how long he'd been running. All that he knew as that he had to get as far away from North High as possible. Being the Japanese Middleman wasn't easy at the best of times- he had more than his fair share of giant robots, tentacle monsters, and rampaging Godzillas to deal with- but the assignments he really hated were those damn super-powered schoolgirls. Few things were more troublesome than the viciousness of a teenage girl combined with the power to level cities.

He jabbed at his watch, trying to call Headquarters. There was no reply. Behind him, there was a soft sound as someone slowed down from great speed. Takeda whirled around and gave a strangled scream.

"No! Stay away!"

His only reply was the wind as it echoed around the dark, silent buildings that surrounded him. But then, he was in no state to call for help for much longer after that anyway.

Middleman Headquarters, 12.15 p.m

"I'm so boooored." Wendy complained, leaning back on the old wooden desk in front of the Heydar as far back as she could. "Isn't there, like, an intelligent gorilla mob or stygian killer hornet attack anywhere?"

In front of her, Ida sighed and rolled her eyes. Since she was plugged into the Heydar and therefore facing it, the effect was largely lost on Wendy, but Ida wasn't letting perfectly useful contempt subroutines go to waste.

"Get used to it, kiddo.” She snapped. "You could always go back to your crack dens. I'm sure they're very interesting."

Wendy made a face. Without turning her head, Ida held up two fingers.

"Ida's right." added the Middleman, who was standing off to one side leafing through some reports, utterly oblivious to the silent exchange going on in front of him. "The life of a Middleman isn't all action, you know. These quiet days give us valuable time to consolidate what we've learned from our past missions so that we may act more efficiently in the future. And besides-" he snapped the last folder shut with a satisfying crack. "Any day that leaves our fair country unmolested at the hands of threats either inter or extra-terrestrial is a good day by my book."

"I suppose-" Wendy began, only to be interrupted by Ida suddenly straightening up, her eyes glassy.

"I've got a hit!" She turned to face the Middleman. "Takeshi Takeda's gone off the grid."

"Lucky Star!" he exclaimed, walking over to the android. "Are you sure?"

"Who's gone missing?" Wendy asked, standing up from the desk and moving forward to join them.

"My Japanese counterpart." the Middleman explained over his shoulder. "Some countries experience enough phenomena that they are assigned their own Middlemen to deal with it- Japan is one of them. I also have comrades in Britain, Australia and Paraguay, to name but a few."

"Paraguay?"

"You'd be surprised." the Middleman switched his attention back to Ida, who still had the glazed look of someone reading something written on the front of their skull. "Do you have anything else, Ida? A communication, perhaps?"

Ida shook her head. "All I have is his last assignment. He was investigating a high school in Nishinomiya- apparently their Heydar had been picking up huge fluctuations in reality all over that area. Random changes in climate, infinite time loops, talking cats, the whole shebang."

"So what happens now?" Asked Wendy, secretly hoping that they might get a holiday out of this. "Do we alert some kind of Middle-backup service or what?"

The Middleman shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The nature of our calling is a solitary one- when we go missing, it falls to the other Middlemen to come to our aid. I'm sorry Dubbie, but we're going to have to go to Japan."

Wendy tried to hide her glee as best she could.

North High School, Nishinomiya, Japan. After class.

People seem to be more likely to accept the existence of secret organizations than any other conspiracy theory in the world. I mean, I don't have any facts to back that up, but look at the sheer amount of fiction that deals with organizations too secret to know dealing with problems beyond human ken. It's ridiculous. Why should we believe that the universe is anything other than random? I suppose we take comfort in thinking that they're always someone more competent coming to handle problems we can't fix ourselves. If that's the case, I wish that they'd get off their behinds and come and help us with Haruhi Suzumiya. The League of Esper Boys has been hardly any help at all.

Anyway. To begin properly. It was just a typical day at the SOS Brigade headquarters. And by that I mean, of course, that to any outside observer it was decidedly untypical. Haruhi was bullying Mikuru into recording character songs for a tie-in CD to 'The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina', Yuki was reading (and managing to stay focused despite the tinny music and occasional whimpers from Mikuru), and I was losing to Koizumi at chess.

The esper moved his bishop and smiled at me.

"Checkmate."

I sighed, flicking my king over and crossing my arms. "You win. Again." At the computer, Mikuru was being badgered to sing 'more moe'. Frankly, I wasn't sure how the concept would have translated into song, but that's Haruhi for you. Koizumi started to clear the board and set up the pieces for another game.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He asked.

"Only one of us is psychic." I reminded him.

"Since our last... adventure." he clarified, meticulously arranging the white wooden pieces on the board. "Not that this is a bad thing. If I had my way, Haruhi would-"

"Continue to be happy the way she is." I finished wearily. "You've said this before. And when you say it; something always-"

There was a knock at the door.

“Visitors!” Haruhi looked up from her harassment of Mikuru. “I’ll get it!”

The door opened to revel two foreigners, a man and a woman, dressed in some kind of army type uniform. The man looked as if he’d stepped out of an American comic book, all square jaw, neat hair and broad shoulders. Behind him, I could just about see his female partner- much easier on the eyes, with curly dark hair and big brown eyes.

The man flashed a badge. “Good afternoon.” His Japanese was surprisingly good. “I’m John Smith of the Spiegel Cultural Exchange Program, and this is my assistant.”

Another badge was presented for our inspection. “Jessica Drew.”

“Suzumiya Haruhi.” Haruhi replied, before turning to indicate the whimpering heap at the desk. “That’s Asahina Mikuru, and these are the others.” Her hand waved to encompass Yuki, Koizumi and me. Apparently we weren’t important enough to merit an introduction.

John Smith (did you ever hear such an obviously fake name in your life?) smiled- briefly, like a light flickering on and off- and then peered past Haruhi into the rest of the clubroom.

“Would you mind letting us have a look around?” He asked. “We’re trying to assess your school for suitability to participate in our American exchange program and this club was singled out for particular attention.”

“Oh, come on-“ I started, but Haruhi shushed me.

“Go right ahead!”

The two foreigners exchanged looks. “It’ll be easier if you leave.” Smith said, obviously keen to avoid a scene. And, miraculously, Haruhi obeyed. We all trooped out into the corridor and waited while the two ‘inspectors’ poked around in the clubroom. It didn’t take long for Haruhi to start with her usual line of thought.

“There’s something off about them.” She snapped, trying to peer in through the keyhole.

I looked up from where I’d slumped onto the floor. “You think?”

“I’ve never heard of any Spiegel Cultural Exchange program.” She continued, ignoring me. “And I don’t think the woman even speaks Japanese!”

“It is unlikely.” Yuki agreed.

Koizumi asked the question that we were all dreading. “So what do you think they are?”

“Government agents.” Haruhi replied firmly, turning around. “Sent here to investigate us.” She grinned. “Isn’t it exciting?”

“No.”

“And that’s what the next club activity will be. I want you all to investigate them! Find out what they’re doing here and bring me proof of what they are.” Her eyes flashed with a fire that I had come to hate. “Then, we can get them to show us all the stuff that they’ve found out. Finally, we’ll know for sure that aliens are real. Admit it, Kyon.” She leaned down to where I was sitting. I edged backwards. “My plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity!”

Nishinomiya Middleman HQ (exactly the same as the American Middleman HQ). Too Damn Late

Wendy glared at the robot. The robot, a highly sophisticated PersoDroid developed by IntelliSystems Receptionist Solutions, glared back. It turned out that the Nishinomiya HQ hadn’t just copied the décor of their base- it had its own cranky droid to contend with as well.

“Aren’t Japanese robots supposed to be like, really big?” Wendy asked, still staring at Designation Yukari-1.

<I don’t like her.> Yukari snapped in Japanese, turning to the Middleman. <I think she’s on drugs.>

“Now, Yukari.” Replied the Middleman, thumbing through some files. “You’re perfectly capable of speaking English, especially if you have something to say about Dubbie.”

“She’s talking about me?” asked Wendy in surprise, before turning back to Yukari. “Are you talking about me?”

<Not gonna.> The elderly android replied. <I don’t like her knowing what I’m saying.>

“Nuts to you, too.” Wendy crossed her arms and sat on the desk. “If Subtitle Sally wants to make us only half as effective, fine by me.”

“I don’t understand it.” The Middleman frowned, still looking at the files. “By all accounts there should have been something in that room.”

“There was a reading before we went in.” Wendy volunteered. “Off the charts, you said.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t there after we entered.”

Wendy shrugged. “Maybe your radar thing is on the blink.”

<Middleman equipment doesn’t just fail.> Yukari corrected her acidly. Sadly, since she chose to correct her in Japanese, Wendy didn’t reply.

“Or maybe…” The Middleman looked up. “Maybe one of the students in that club is altering reality by themselves. An inborn, organic ability, unaided by technology.”

“A mutant?”

The Middleman flipped through more of the file and shook his head. “Creation of closed space, alteration of time… At this level, I’d say that they’re more like a god.” He paused. “Or I would, except that that’s blasphemy.”

“Great.” Wendy sighed. “So we get to punch out Cthulu?”

Yukari suddenly straightened up. <Students at the front desk.> She said, before hurrying over to the monitor that was embedded in one of the walls. <Look familiar to you?>

<Most Excellent Superbat!> said the Middleman, before looking over at an extremely miffed Wendy. “Sorry.” He clarified. “It’s the club members from earlier.”

“How did they find us?” Wendy asked, squinting at the screen.

“They must be as cunning as they are powerful.” The Middleman replied gravely. “Our only choice will be to confront them.”

The Friendly Mister Jones Temporary Employment Agency, at the same time.

“Dammit, Koizumi.” I sighed, as Mikuru rang the bell on the desk of the employment agency for the nth time. “We can’t just visit every shifty business that your organization told us about.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Koizumi asked in his usual courteous tone, though I thought I could detect an undercurrent of sarcasm.

“No.” I admitted. “I’m just pretty sure I’ve missed dinner is all.”

There was a burst of surprised English from the door behind the front desk. It was too fast to follow, but I thought I caught a swear word in there.

“Huh?” I turned around to see the two foreigners from earlier plus an elderly woman wearing a flowery housedress and an expression that could wither grass at twenty paces. “Uh…”

“Mister John Smith, I presume?” said Koizumi calmly. “Or should I call you the Middleman?”

To his credit, John didn’t look as half as surprised as I was.

“Koizumi Itsuki of the League of Esper Boys.” Koizumi bowed. “Miss Suzumiya didn’t introduce me properly earlier.”

“Of course!” said the Middleman. “And that girl with you- she’s a licensed Time Traveler, yes?”

“Classified information.” Mikuru mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. The Middleman ploughed on.

“You must be the source of that power we were detecting-“

“What?” I looked at Koizumi. “What have you been doing?”

“I am powerless in this world.” Itsuki explained hastily. “You’ve noticed something unusual?”

“There have been massive fluctuations in reality in this area.” The Middleman explained. “One of my colleagues was monitoring it-“

“Takeshi Takeda.”

We all turned to stare at Yuki, whose quiet voice had suddenly cut through the conversation like a knife.

“Middleman no. 3775648.” She continued in the same flat monotone. “Sent to investigate the entity known as Haruhi Suzumiya. He planned to expose her.” Her head moved once, mechanically. “I disposed of him.”

In an instant two very shiny and dangerous-looking guns were pointed at her head as the two Middlemen vaulted over the desk and rushed to separate us from her.

The woman shouted something in English- Mikuru whimpered loudly, and I held up my hands. Only Yuki and Koizumi remained still.

“What did you do to him?” Asked the Middleman carefully.

“I sent him to Canada.” Yuki stared down the barrel of the gun as calmly as if she was looking into a camera. “He was not harmed.”

Everyone except Yuki sagged visibly with relief.

“And the source of these fluctuations are Haruhi Suzumiya, then?” asked the Middleman, holstering his gun. Koizumi, who seemed to have nominated himself out official spokesman, nodded.

“The results of her finding out what she really is could be disastrous. All of my colleagues here are monitoring her to prevent her from learning her true capabilities. Except him.” He motioned his head in my direction. “Him we can’t explain.”

“So why were you here in the first place?”

“Haruhi suspects you’re government agents.” Mikuru explained, her voice still a little shaky with fright. “I dunno what we’re going to do to throw her off!”

“Well-“ We all turned to the Middleman, who was stroking his chin in thought. “I think I have a plan.”

Kyon’s house, some time later. A Saturday

It was Saturday morning- a welcome break from the grind of class and Brigade activities. I was taking the opportunity to sleep in undisturbed by crazy dreams or midnight phone calls from Asahina when the trilling of my mobile phone pulled me from my sleep. Groaning, I rolled over and answered it.

“Yes?”

“Kyon!” Haruhi’s voice pierced through my sleepy brain and almost made me drop the phone. “Great news! You remember those two weird foreigners that visited us a few days ago?”

“How could I forget?” I asked, holding the mobile a few inches away from my ear. “What about them?”

“They were legit! I just got a letter from their institute- apparently we qualified for their exchange program.”

I held the phone away from me and looked at in horror.

“No….”

Haruhi’s chirpy voice blasted through the speakers regardless.

“The SOS Brigade is going to America!”