Misha sighted down his weapon at the Elopus rising from the channel. As always, he was utterly arrested by the beauty and majesty of it. Water streamed from its tusks; tentacles churned the water beneath it.
But he didn’t have much time.
Regretfully, he pulled the trigger.
Silver shot toward the Elopus, enveloping it. A shrinking sphere hurtled back, its wake smooth.
So. Misha had been right, then.
In moments, Herself stood before him: sea water dripping from her pearls, leathery gray skin transformed to pale wrinkles; enormous dark eyes to small, disapproving blue.
“Agent 9,” she said, shaking the water from her skirt. “What was worthy of interrupting my few precious moments of solitude?”
Misha shrugged. “Your country needs you, ma’am.”
Sighing, the no-longer-underwater Queen and the still-undercover actor turned from the bank and headed toward their duty.
(Wrote this for Erica Hoops’ team participating in GISHWHES, a scavenger hunt for http://www.therandomact.org/. Assignment: 140-word-or-less story involving the actor Misha Collins, the Queen of England, and an Elopus. This was ridiculously fun.)
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