And That's How We Roll!
Allow me to assure you--I OWN NOTHING HERE! Buffy The Vampire Slayer
is own by Joss Whedon and his group. Hiromu Arakawa's Full Metal Alchemist
--I DON'T OWN IT!
Bringing Stargate: SG-1
to the television screen is Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner. Not me, never me . . .Just remember, IF YOU RECOGNIZE IT, IT'S NOT MINE!
Regardless of the fact that those two last crossovers aren't mentioned in this chapter, for safety sake I decided to post disclaimers for them anyway.
Originally I was going to stick this story into a Boeing 777. By February of 1997, the huge, wide-body commercial passenger plane was in service, and it seemed like a good idea--at first. Now folks, here's the question that killed that idea: Would an airline risk a brand new, multimillion dollar plane in what was essentially a war zone, when they had older, less expensive planes in their fleet, that could do the same job?
The answer was likely a big, NO.
So, with that in mind, I went and settled for the traditional disaster plane favorite: the 747.
Unhappily for me, the idea came too late, and I'd already dropped hints about the plane's identity. Now, anyone else might have gone back and rewritten the chapter, but I confess to being too lazy for that. So, instead, an explanation of the inconsistencies would have to do.
With that dealt with, here's another chapter with a couple of exiled Sunnydale natives heading in the same direction as the Scoobies and poor clueless Uncle Jack. Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8
AND THAT'S HOW WE ROLL!
"Sit right here! And don't move!"
The blond, teenage boy was slammed down into the seat far harder then he should have been by the scowling, and oh, too strong, stewardess.
"But what if I have to--?" The teen began whining.
"Sit!" She hissed.
"B-but . . .Bathroom?" Whimpered the teen.
"SIT!" Delivering a final warning glare, the scary woman, pivoted around on her sensible heels, and marched away, down the isle, ignoring any possible pleas from her 'passenger'. Once she was far enough away, a defiant tongue, aimed at the woman's ramrod backside, shot out of the boy's mouth--And he nearly ended up biting it, as an unexpected voice at his side, made him jump in startled surprise!
"Oh, hey! Andrew? Andrew Wells?"
Andrew, surprised there was anyone on the plane that knew his name, quickly twisted around on his seat to look at the passenger next to him. "Ohmygod! OHMYGOD! Jonathan? Jonathan Levinson? What are you doing here?!" He cried out excitedly, in a high pitch, painful squeal. Causing nearby passengers to wince in unexpected pain.
Jonathan Levinson rolled his eyes and grimaced in glum resignation. "I've been shipped off . . .by my parents--To go live with my grandfather, in Colorado Springs." He stared briefly down at his plaster encased left arm, immobilized in a sling. "I, um, ran into some girls, and, um, they-they beat me up, and broke my arm."
"Really?" Andrew gasped.
Jonathan nodded grimly. "Yeah. But my grandfather's an ex-Marine--A tough, mean, old leatherneck. Not that he's really mean, you know," he added hastily. "But he's tough! That's what my parents want for me--Not the mean part! But my parents think grandpa can toughen me up, and teach me how to stand up for myself. Or, at least, stand up against, um, girls. Mean, strong . . .girls." He muttered in discontent.
"Oh, wow. That's kind of bad to hear." Andrew commiserated with his fellow nerd and virgin. He thought of Jonathan as being cooler then himself, simply because the other teen had one date more then he had ever had--Ever. Okay, so the girl turned out to be a life-sucking mummy only interested in eating him, and the date, not so much as a date, but more like an opportunistic predator stalking her unwary prey--But she was still hot! Speaking of hot chicks . . .
"Um, yeah, one question here--Uh, um, ah, did you get to feel any of them up?" Andrew asked, breathlessly. "You know, while they were beating you up?"
Jonathan stared in wide-eyed, outraged, disbelief at the earnest blond. "What kind of question is that? No! I was too busy protecting my head, and the guys down there!"
"Sorry! Sorry!" Andrew hastily apologized. He paused, then said: "Were they at least hot?"
The dark haired teen opened his mouth, and took a deep breath--Then deflated. "Yeah, they were smoking." He admitted, quietly, lowering his eyes in shame.
"Aaahhhh!" Andrew nodded, knowingly and appeased.
"What about you? Why are you here?" Asked Jonathan quickly.
"Oh! Well, you know Mayor Finch's new wife?" Andrew said casually. He sat back, crossed his leg at the knee, and bobbed his foot up and down.
"Yeah . . .I think I remember her by her maiden name--An Anya Jenkins, I think it was? Or something like that?" Jonathan frowned.
Andrew nodded. "Well, you know my signature Summoning? The Flying Monkeys?"
Jonathan's eyes widened. "Y-yeah?"
Andrew huffed, and managed to look both aggrieved and scandalized. "Geez! How was I suppose to know they were going to do a fly over, directly above the Mayor's outdoor wedding--THEN simultaneous relieve themselves, while flying above the wedding? I ask you--How was I suppose to know they were going to do that?" Andrew demanded in exasperation, rolling his eyes.
"Oh. Dear. God." Jonathan blinked, and blinked. That was just . . .His heart began beating faster. Even HE knew better then to mess with a woman's wedding! Worse yet, he had heard, in the town's magical community, some strange and ugly rumors about that woman . . .Mostly about the awful things she did to people who pissed her off.
"Wow! Mom and dad said the same thing!" Exclaimed a surprised, and oblivious, Andrew. "Anyway, apparently it was a really big deal. At least mom said so . . .Dad just had his head in his hands. Okay, so while no one else knows it was my monkeys that did it, mom and dad decided it was better to be safe then sorry--So mom contacted a cousin of ours, who lives out in Colorado Springs, and blackmailed her into taking me in!" He ended happily.
"Oh," said Jonathan weakly, still blinking.
Andrew brightened. "Oh, oh . . .Remember Warren Mears, the technomage?"
"Yeah . . ." Jonathan confirmed cautiously. "I've seen him around."
"Well, his mom decided he needed a more masculine role model. And since she hasn't been able to catch herself a man, or a woman, to fill that he-man space, she decided to ship him off to military school. Lots of he-men role models there." Andrew confided.
Jonathan winced--Unlike Andrew, he knew the real reason why Mrs. Mears was shipping Warren off to military school. He had been in the house when it happened. The prototype sexbot, Warren had been constructing down in his mom's basement, had developed a serious glitch. It had made its homicidal tendencies known before it had gotten off the worktable, giving Warren time to run out the basement and escape the house with the thing in hot pursuit. Jonathan had jumped behind the old beat up sofa kept down in the basement long before that event. It, the incomplete 'bot, chased Warren all over town, declaring its love for him at boom box volume, as well as its intentions of ripping off certain dear body parts if it ever got its steel fingers on him. To make the nightmare worse, Stupid Warren had given the thing, a long life battery pack, and NO off switch!
The only good news in that debacle was the unexpected and rare rainstorm that drenched the town. Shorting out the robot, who, only half way complete, was still without its water proofing 'skin'. Warren, hiding up a tree, spent the entire night wet, cold and praying he survived a Sunnydale night outdoors!
Guiltily, Jonathan recalled he should have been the one to find Warren and tell him about the robot's fate, but he had been busy--Someone had jumped that no good blond ho, Harmony Kendell, stripped her naked, then tied her arms to her side, and hoisted her up the school flagpole!
If Harmony had been a little more discrete and smart, then perhaps most of the school would have missed out on a naked, screaming, Harmony kicking, scissoring, and splitting open her legs in mid air. Thus exposing all her goods to the cameras and camcorders that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, in the hands of too many vindictive schoolmates. Jonathan had blushed a little the first time he saw the blond had gotten a Brazilian wax.
However, thanks to the fact that someone had the skill to beautifully merge together close-up footage of Harmony's humiliation with a video of her doing her cheerleading routine (sans panties, and occasional peeks at her bare boobs), Jonathan could enjoy that memory every time he had access to a VCR. The 55 minute tape sold for $9.95 (plus taxes, shipping and handling).
Jonathan kept the tape in his carryon, and counted it as one of his most precious possessions.
While Jonathan mused over the antics of past and present acquaintances, a bit of familiar movement caught the corner of his eye--He glanced up, briefly--And did a double take. Down the next isle over, a familiar mop of blond hair was cheerfully bobbing its way to the back of the plane.
"Andrew!" He hissed urgently, nudging the other teen with his elbow. "Look over there! On the next isle, going towards the back of the plane!"
"Whe--Oh, crap!" Andrew gasped, seeing the blond head of the girl walking to the back of the plane. "Buffy Summers! This can't be good!"
Jonathan felt his chest constricting in panic. Every time SHE showed up--! No, no, breath in, breath out--No place for a panic attack! He berated himself. "Okay, relax. Nothing bad is going on. Nothing bad is happening. Nothing bad will happen!" Chanted Jonathan softly, surreptitiously using his one good hand to fish in the area around him for his seat belt. "She's just casually walking about. Nothing to do with anything, anything bad." God! Where was the effin' seatbelt?!
"You think?" Andrew whimpered, fear on his wide-eyed face.
Jonathan gulped. Of course, Buffy was not the source of the bad things Jonathan knew happened in Sunnydale, but somehow she was always present when things went FUBAR to the worse degree. Seeing her on the plane? That was bad--Really, really bad. Like in Crash and Burn bad. "I'm reasonably sure--Look, Andy, if something bad was really going to happen, wouldn't Harris be right behind her?" He said, reassuringly. Trying to project an unfelt calm for the other teen's sake.
At the familiar shriek, both teens froze. Once the little blond blur had flown out of sight, up the isle, the ON switch was flicked, and they threw themselves into a frantic, panicky, hand slapping, mad scramble for their seatbelts!
Oblivious to the passengers staring at them, they finally settled down into their seats, secured by their seatbelts. Andrew was breathing heavily into a barf bag. Beads of perspiration ran freely down Jonathan's forehead.
Breathing heavily, Jonathan clutched the armrest with his good hand, his body stiff in terror, waiting for the doom he was certain was coming.
"Any moment, now . . .any moment." He breathed. And he breathed. And breathed. And breathed . . .
"Uh, Jonathan?" Andrew muffled voice questioned from his bag.
"Maybe, you where right. Maybe--Maybe nothing bad is going to happen?"
Jonathan felt his body unclench . . .A time had past by, and no screams. So, maybe, maybe nothing bad was going to happen?
Then he made the mistake of looking out the window--A window that look directly out on the plane's wing. A wing currently occupied by a six-limbed furry thing, clutching a blond blow-up doll in two of the limbs. A doll with a scary resemblance to Harmony Kendell--In turn clutching what looked like an expensive makeup bag.
He turned wide terror glazed eyes to Andrew's mirror eyes--Andrew saw it too. Neither teen was surprised when there was a sudden lurch, the plane dropped, the Klaxons blared, oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling, and the screams started! Andrew hastily helped Jonathan put on his oxygen mask, before shoving his face into his own mask.
Nothing bad was going to happen? Yeah, right! Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8Q8
You do realize the last bit was inspired by Rod Serling's Twilight Zone
"NIGHTMARE AT TWENTY THOUSAND FEET
" don't you? The original one that aired in 1963, the one starring William Shatner, of course. NEEDLESS TO SAY, I DON'T OWN IT!
Yeah, a lot of things are changing--For one thing, many of the major trouble makers are dead--The Mayor (exploding giant Twinkie, remember?), Spike and Drusilla dead (Buffy sealed off all the sewer exits, then turned the warehouse, the two Master level vamps were hiding in, into glass, during high noon.). Finch became mayor, meeting and eventually marrying Ms. Anya Jenkins. A former Vengeance demon, who choose to lose her powers rather then wear or use her Power source--The ugly necklace Xander Harris had accidentally turned into a sweet bunny motif piece of jewelry.
And yeah, Buffy is teaching the Scoobies Alchemy.
Thanks for finding the time to read this story--And good by!