🦇Sex is No Laughing Matter🤡
2. Make Amends
Sonar x Clown!Reader
Wordcount: 2,492
Ao3 Link
Holly ended up quitting during their lunch break, the loud sobs declaring how much pressure she was under was audible from outside of Blazer’s office. This left a different dispatcher, Chase, to assign them their missions for the rest of the shift.
Bonnie, however, wasn’t as easily shaken up as the girl was. She was a clown after all, a performer. She was used to carrying the weight of other men on her shoulders, so intervening in a hostage situation was a literal cake walk.
No, seriously, the amount of cake on the floor was absurd. She left a trail of blue frosted boot prints with each step for the next three missions that followed.
For a first shift, and also in accordance with Blonde Blazer, she didn’t do that bad. In fact, she’d performed the best in comparison to everyone else on the Z Team’s first day. Apparently simply showing up to every mission you’re called out for was not the bare minimum, but in fact, a blessing for this team.
And now the moment she knew the standard, she proceeded to do what a changeling like herself does best.
Copy the mannerisms of those around her.
She was in the gym with Coupé, practicing juggling with five balls when their latest dispatcher, Alex, made the call. “Bonnie. One of our high paying subscribers is hosting a birthday party for their daughter and they need an entertainer. Could you-”
“Nah. Think I’ll pass. I’d rather not risk a kid wiping their boogers on my tie.” Bonnie replied, her rhythm not faltering in the slightest. “I have other talents at my disposal. Can’t believe you’re trying to send a clown to entertain children.” Her voice carried a hint of smugness to it, her grin widening when she heard the annoyed scoff that followed.
“What do you expect? It’s not like anyone else on the team is exactly fit to deal with kids!” He growled.
“Um? Excuse me? You don’t think I can light up a room with my personality?” Prism sassed, the smirk in her voice extremely audible.
“Considering you’re a pop star, I would consider you more suitable for teens, but if you insist, I can-”
“HELL NO! I just got my nails done! I’m not going to an eight year old’s birthday!”
“YOU WEAR GLOVES! THEY’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO GET-!” Alex sighed in frustration, his forehead slamming against the desk with a BANG that ran throughout the entire comms line.
Bonnie had to stop her juggling just to make sure she didn’t drop any of them in her fit of laughter.
“Okay! So I’m guessing we’re just not going to do our jobs and instead potentially have them unsubscribe!” Alex declared in a fit of frustration.
Coupé rose from her spot on the bench. “I’ll go if no one else volunteers.” She said calmly.
“Oh thank fuck. Thank you for actually wanting to go out and do your job!” Alex groaned, a grumbled oh my god barely coming through the mic.
But what he couldn’t see was the mischievous smirk that spread across her face as she left the gym.
Mirroring seemed to get her pretty far with most of her team members, including Prism, who actually asked her for makeup advice when searching for a more pigmented blue lipstick. But there was one teammate who still seemed to have it out for her.
“Sonar. I need you and-”
“Oh! I can go!”
“Alex, if you send me out on a mission with Bonnie, I will eat you in the parking lot. I’m not even kidding.”
She had desperately tried to make amends. She learned the passcode to his locker every time he changed it so she could take his suits out for dry cleaning, she made an effort to impersonate a few important people for companies he’d invested stock in to grant him more of a profit, she even showed up with a cage of live mice for lunch one day. None of it worked.
Malevola was the one to reassure her that all the problems surrounding their relationship centered around him and that she was in the clear, but Bonnie wasn’t one to give up, so instead she changed her approach.
“That’s too damn bad. You two are the ones with the best hearing and the server room is pitch black. I need you to-”
“Then send Mal or Prism! Mal can see in the dark and Prism can light up the place!” Sonar retaliated, trying to think of an excuse to get out of this.
“You didn’t let me finish. I need you and Bonnie specifically because the lock on this security system is sensitive to light and requires an audio response in order not to go off.” Alex insisted, “And I need you to go on this mission because you haven’t gone on any this shift.”
Sonar let out a long drawn out sigh, dreading the events that were to come. “Alright. But I’m not going to stop for her.”
Bonnie could barely remember if she even closed the lock on her locker as she bounced out of the SDN building. “Please Sony, I'd never ask you to stop.”
Fake it till you make it. It was a silly little phrase she’d heard Sonar use when talking to Malevola. She hadn’t paid attention to the original context, but the thought alone had her giggling. She could adjust her appearance and vocal cords however she pleased, the phrase was quite literally her life’s motto. However, hearing it come from Sonar, for some reason, flipped a switch in her brain. The same switch that decided to change her approach.
“I can go as long as you’d like.”
Flirting was always something she was good at, considering her former occupation quite literally required her to be charismatic. Compliments, acclamations, pleasantries, and seductive phrases were no stranger to her, feeling more like a routine than a genuine declaration. It resulted in plenty of ex-partners that had her wishing she listened to her brother’s advice when he’d say ‘they’re only into you for your malleable body.’ But here, in the current moment, the mere declaration of insinuating any type of interest from Sonar in the slightest had her heart racing.
“Don’t call me that.”
Even if her advances were shot down.
Bonnie was already seated on a bench beside the building Alex dispatched them too, adjusting her boots and testing out the soles as Sonar landed a few feet beside her.
“Good to know you already planned on sabotaging the mission by wearing your obnoxious squeakers.” He growled, his voice deeper in pitch in his bat form.
“Actually, I just removed the squeakers! Nothing but silence from them.” Bonnie corrected, stomping her shoe down to prove just how quiet they were. “Something I can also be if you’re into it.”
“Yes, I am. Please shut the fuck up.”
Bonnie nodded wordlessly, her hand reaching up to zip her mouth close. Sonar simply sighed in annoyance, face palming the moment he was back to his hybrid form. “Let’s just get this over with.” He grumbled, walking towards the building with a silent bouncing Bonnie behind him.
The server farm was a mausoleum of humming black monoliths, chilled to a temperature that made their breath mist in the air. True to Alex’s briefing, it was pitch black. Not the kind of dark you get used to, but a suffocating, heavy absence of light that pressed against the eyes.
Bonnie, true to her word, hadn't made a sound since they entered. She moved like a shadow in her oversized coat, her silenced boots making no impact on the grated metal floor. She watched Sonar as best she could in the dark as he worked, or rather, the way his large ears swiveled like radar dishes, twitching at frequencies she couldn’t even imagine.
"Left," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "Two guards. Heartbeats low. They're bored."
Bonnie patted his shoulder in confirmation, both to signify her understanding and as an excuse to touch him. Like a phantom, she snuck around the guards, grabbing hold of them individually to knock them out. By the time he saw the thumbs up, both guards were unconscious on the ground without a single mark on their bodies.
“What the fuck? How did you-” He began, only for Bonnie to blink at him blankly, a rather strong smelling washcloth in her hands. His hands immediately flew to plug his nose. “Is that chloroform?!” He sneered, watching as Bonnie’s pearly teeth peeked out from her painted frown.
Sonar had to fight the urge to let out another groan as he walked past her. “I’m not even gonna ask where you found it.” He could hear her tail wagging behind her as the rag was placed in her seemingly bottomless pockets.
They reached the vault door, a strange, shifting membrane of dark glass that vibrated with a low, nauseating hum.
Sonar stepped forward, his ears pinning back instantly. "Fuck. Alex wasn't kidding. It's biological." He tapped his temple, grimacing. "It's screaming. The frequency keeps changing every three seconds. It's like trying to harmonize with a dying whale."
He glanced back at Bonnie. She was leaning against a server rack, looking at him fondly but still remained utterly silent. She pointed at the lock, then at her ear, then gave him a thumbs up and a wink.
"Don't give me that look," Sonar snapped, turning back to the door. "I can handle this. I just need to isolate the base tone and counter it."
He closed his eyes, his throat vibrating as he let out a low, controlled hum. The glass membrane rippled, turning transparent for a split second. Then, the hum from the door spiked, shifting an octave higher. Sonar flinched, adjusting his pitch to match. The door settled again.
"Okay," he muttered, sweat beading on the back of his neck despite the cold. "I got it. Just need to hold it for..."
The door shrieked. A jagged, dissonant noise that sounded like metal tearing. Sonar gasped, clutching his ears as the feedback loop hit him hard. He staggered back, his focus shattering. "It's too fast! It’s adaptive! I can't predict the shift!"
The alarm light on the console began to pulse a dull, ominous red. The system was detecting the failed entry. They had maybe ten seconds before the place went into lockdown.
Sonar looked at the door, panic rising in his chest. His intellect couldn't solve a variable that changed its mind.
He needed a mirror.
He needed Bonnie.
He whipped his head back to her. She hadn't moved. She was just watching him, her head tilted to the side like a curious puppy, her painted frown perfectly still.
"You!" he hissed. "You copy things! That's your whole... thing, right?"
Bonnie nodded eagerly.
"Can you hear it?" Sonar demanded, pointing at the vibrating glass. "The shift? Can you match it?"
Bonnie nodded again with even more enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling in the red glow.
Sonar scoffed, waving his hands frantically at the clown. “Then what the fuck are you doing?! Match the call!”
Bonnie shrugged, her index finger drawing a line above her lips to remind Sonar of her promise to shut up, as per his command.
With an annoyed huff, he forcefully grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand up to force it to unzip her lips. “There! You’re unzipped. Now will you do it?”
“Whatever you say, batty.”
The nickname didn't even make him flinch this time. He was too busy watching the red pulse on the console speed up. Five seconds.
Bonnie stepped up to the glass membrane without any trace of fear. She had as much confidence approaching the thing as Prism did on karaoke nights. She closed her eyes, her dog ears twitching once as she calibrated.
The door let out a low, gurgling bass note that slid upwards into a sharp keen.
Without hesitation, Bonnie opened her mouth, a perfect, mechanical copy of the door’s sound came out. A hum, multi-layered frequency, a dissonant chord that vibrated in Sonar's fangs.
The glass membrane stopped rippling. It turned clear.
But the door wasn’t done. Realizing it was being mimicked, the biological lock spasmed. The sound shifted violently, jumping from a low thrum to a piercing, glass-shattering screech that was barely audible to the human ear but agonizing for a hybrid.
Sonar hissed, clamping his hands over his ears.
Bonnie didn’t flinch. Her throat visibly strained, the muscles tightening as she forced her vocal cords to twist into unnatural shapes. She matched the screech instantly, her voice splitting into a dual-tone to counter the lock’s defense.
The lock changed again. A rapid-fire staccato pulse. Thump-thump-screech-thump.
Bonnie’s eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading through her white foundation. Her body went rigid. She began to mimic not just the sound, but the rhythm of the machine. Her chest heaved in time with the pulses. She was becoming the door.
“It’s fighting back,” Sonar realized, watching the console readout spike. “It’s trying to throw you off. Bonnie, you gotta shift! It’s going to drop!”
She didn’t need the instruction. She felt the drop before it happened. Her voice dropped into a guttural growl that was akin to bending steel, catching the lock’s frequency just as it bottomed out.
She was trembling now, maintaining a perfect auditory mirror of a biological system designed to kill was taking a toll. A vein popped in her forehead. She looked less like a clown and more like a conduit for pure noise.
Suddenly, the lock let out one final, desperate wail. A chaotic mix of every frequency at once.
Bonnie’s eyes snapped open. She took a sharp breath and let out a scream.
A weaponized vocalization, a perfect, mirror-image blast of sound that hit the glass membrane with physical force.
CRACK.
The membrane shattered into a harmless, gray sludge that slid to the floor. The heavy steel bolts behind it groaned and retracted.
Silence returned to the hallway.
Bonnie doubled over, coughing violently, clutching her throat and sounding like she’d just swallowed a cheese grater.
Sonar stared at the open vault, then at the panting clown on the floor. His ears were ringing. He blinked, processing what he had just witnessed. A flicker of concern began to burn in his chest as she continued to wheeze.
She looked up at Sonar, a tired but triumphant smirk smeared across her face.
“Y'know,” she croaked, her grin widening. “Most guys buy me dinner before trying to get me to scream like that. You should consider yourself lucky, Sony.”
A flame that was extinguished the moment she decided to open her mouth.
“Just destroy the servers so we can leave. My ears have already withstood enough abuse today.”
A kill drive was produced from her pockets, shoved into the server and promptly knocked over with a solid kick.
“Sure thing, Sony. Your wish is my command.”
Prev || Next || Master
