TTPCTS Club, Round Robin #1
Parts 1-5

By: Bodger, SLWatson, Teddog and Amanda

------------------------------------------------

Alexis Davenport was bored. Bored and depressed.

She wasn't exactly sure why. Well no, that was a lie -- she knew the exact reason why. It was what Subreality doctors termed as a serious case of "Secondary Character Blues."

It happened to the best of them. Characters who never really got a chance for the spotlight always seemed to, at some point or another, face a crisis of identity.

For Alexis, however, the situation was worsened by the fact that, thanks to her writer, she wasn't even a POPULAR secondary character. She was the "prude," the "spoilsport," the one who always rained on others' parades. This was actually rather unjustified; while it was true she was rather no-nonsense, she was nowhere near as bad as she'd been personified in her writer's MiSTs.

Still, there wasn't much she could do. Until her writer finally finished the story she was working on, there was nothing she could do to salvage her image.

She sat in the TTPCTS Club, nursing a gin and tonic. While the Club generally didn't admit avatars, it was generally agreed that the residents of the Satellite of Avatars be allowed in for two main reasons: one, the concept's author founded the club and two, after some analysis of the SoA series it was generally decided that the writer was, in fact, taking the whole thing a little too seriously.

She raised her glass to herself. "Here's to another year of looking like a total bitch," she commented, slightly bitterly.

"Aw, cheer up, ma'am!" said the Tom Servo at the bar. (Not their Tom Servo, of course -- he was currently on break doing lord knew what with the Crow of the establishment.) "Can't be as bad as all that, eh?"

She smiled sadly. "You, my friend, have never been second banana," she replied.

Tom coughed. "You kidding me? When's the last time you saw a fic where I'm the main character? I mean, it's always Mike, or Joel. Hell, even CAMBOT gets fics all to himself."

Alexis blinked. "You know, I never thought about that. At least people LIKE your character, though."

"I can't help it if I'm so lovable," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes (or eye, as the case may be, for the right was damaged and covered with a black eyepatch). "Whatever. At least you're content. Me, I need some action. ANYTHING to break out of the prude role, y'know?"

"Well, maybe something will come along," said Tom reassuringly. "Why, a story might be coming in through the doors of opportunity right at this moment."

As if on cue, the door suddenly opened. Standing in the doorway was a woman, slightly shorter than Alexis herself, with long brown hair and a somewhat cold expression. Her most distinguishable feature, however, was her right arm, which was comprised of a cybernetic prosthesis rather than a flesh-and-blood arm.

Alexis looked at Tom. "Remind me to talk to you the next time I wanna buy a lottery ticket."

"Remind me to talk to MYSELF the next time I want a lottery ticket," he said, then turned towards the woman. "Hey! Come in, grab a brewsky, rant about your author. It's all the same here."

The woman looked at him, then removed a badge from a bag on her belt. "I'm afraid this isn't a social call. Shauna Carlisle, SCPD," she said in a clipped British accent.

Both Alexis and Tom threw their hands up. "Eep! This isn't about that last MiST I did, is it? I didn't mean to go that heavy on the grammer riffs, really I didn't!" exclaimed Alexis in a much higher squeak than her voice usually reached.

"A...and I'm real sorry 'bout any time I slipped out of character in my last fic! Blame my author!" added Tom Servo in a voice no less calm than Alexis's.

Shauna looked at the pair of them and raised an eyebrow, not amused in the slightest. "It's not about you two. Actually, I've come to issue a warning from the central office," she explained, coolly and efficiently.

The two fictives relaxed. "And here I was all set to do my best Richard Kimble impersonation," griped Tom.

"You mean run away from the police and spend four seasons looking for the one-armed man?" joked Alexis.

"I thought that was O.J. Simpson," Tom quipped back.

"Same thing," said Alexis.

Shauna stood by, tapping her foot impatiently. "If you two are quite finished," she growled.

Alexis and Tom looked back at her. "And they call ME no-nonsense," she muttered.

The cyborg woman didn't even bother to respond to that comment, but went straight into her announcement. "I'm not sure whether you two are aware of this, but there's been a string of fictive kidnappings lately in Subreality. We've decided that the most prudent course of action for the time being is to issue warnings to the main establishments in the area to be careful. Already fictives from several different fandoms have disappeared without a trace, and we're still pursuing lines of inquiry on the matter, but it never hurts to be cautious."

"So basically you guys have absolutely no clue who the hell is doing it and are just advising us to be rugged individuals and carry pepper spray wherever we go. My tax dollars at work," paraphrased Alexis sardonically.

Shauna glared at Alexis. "As I said, we have some ideas," she
shot back.

Alexis shrugged. "Whatever."

The police officer stared at Alexis for a moment longer, and Alexis met her glare for glare. Then the woman turned her head sharply towards Tom. "You, the barkeep!"

"GAH!" Tom, who had been watching the two women intently, was startled off his perch on the counter and immediately fell backwards. Dizzily he hovered his way back up. "You think you could be just a wee bit less abrupt next time?" he complained.

She ignored him. "Go inform your manager of this as well so he can be alerted of the matter," she commanded.

"Fine, whatever. Bossy little..." Grumbling, the little red bot made his way towards the back room.

Alexis reclined a bit and looked at Shauna. "So, one of Bodger's folks, right?"

The woman looked back at Alexis coldly. "The SCPD generally considers themselves to be cut from any writer, but yes -- I am a character created by Bodger," she replied perfunctorily.

Alexis shrugged. "Thought so. You've got the look about you, even if you sure as hell don't have the attitude," she commented.

"I don't feel as if it is your place to comment about my attitude," said Shauna.

"Suit yourself, Seven of Nine," retorted Alexis.

Shauna's lip curled in annoyance. Before she could comment further, however, Tom emerged from the back room. "Huh, damndest thing, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Must've slipped out the back or something," explained Tom.

Alexis frowned. "Odd, does he usually slip out without telling anyone first?"

"Nah, usually he lets me know first. Ooh! Maybe he's stocking up on RAM chips and wants to surprise me!" he said, hopefully.

"Geez, is your mind always on your stomach?"

"Nah, usually it's on babes."

Alexis narrowed her eye. "Watch it."

It suddenly occurred to the both of them that they hadn't heard a word from their unexpected visitor for the past minute or so, and when they looked where she'd been standing only moments before she was no longer there.

"Wow, she moves quickly," Alexis muttered.

"What, she leave already?" Tom looked around.

Alexis looked at the ground and noticed a very slight trail of dirt leading from the entrance of the club inwards. "I think she's just gone into the back room," she deduced.

"WHAT? Geez, and without a warrant even! You've got arms, help me drag her out of there!" exclaimed Tom angrily.

Alexis grinned and cracked her knuckles. "Happy to oblige."

The two stormed into the back room, only to find Shauna looking at Joel's desk with a frown on her face. "Hey, lady what do you think--"

She held up her hand. "Did you notice this?" she asked, pointing to a pile of papers on the ground next to the desk.

"Look, lady, you barge in here and you think you have the right to comment about Joel's organizational habits? Why I oughta --" began Tom.

Alexis, however, saw something different. "Signs of a struggle." she commented grimly.

Shauna nodded. "It appears that my warning was a futile gesture. Your manager, Joel Robinson, appears to have been kidnapped."

Bodger

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Word spread quickly to the other regulars of the TTPCTS Club about the Fictive kidnappings. In response, three Writers decided that they would haul their characters down to the Subreality Registration Station and get them in the matr-- system before letting them go on a manhunt.

There were more than a few angry characters there already. As the unhappy troop marched in, the numbers clicked from 12 to 13, and the numbers they started taking were at 74 on up. Already at the desk were a Gambit and Rogue. She was pregnant, and he was dressed in a business suit.

"Ah'm tellin' ya, Remy, y'all better get your act togethah!"

"Yes dear."

"Next time y'all decide ta go an' get drunk, Ah'm gonna kick your Cajun butt!"

*sigh* "Yes dear."

Wolverine leaned over to AoA Sabretooth and whispered, "No wonder he's gettin' plastered."

Mike whistled. "Hen pecked!"

Rogue whirled on him, holding her fists up. "Ya got somethin' to say?"

"Mmmph!" Mike answered, through the hand that Kitty most intelligently clamped over his mouth before the matronly Southern Belle put him through the ceiling.

"Honey, please," Kitty murmured, slowly taking her hand away. Mike had a bad habit of not knowing when to keep his mouth shut... sometimes it got him into trouble. Okay, it nearly always got him into trouble.

Victor had no such problems. He grinned at the Rogue, showing off his fangs. "What's wrong, babe? Water retention, or ya just always this bit--" *WHAM!*

Adriana and Clarice both looked at the hole in the ceiling and the still ascending form of Sabretooth before wincing and walking outside.

Rogue turned back to griping at her husband while Logan and Joel both snickered.

------- Two Hours Later --------

"Current address?"

"1409 Graymalkin Lane."

"Previous address?"

"Somewhere in time and space."

*sigh* "Please fill out Forms A3, D1, and S7."

Mike took the sheaf of papers, frowning, and went back to his seat.

------- Two and a Half Hours Later -------

"Vic, pacing won't do you any good," Adriana sighed, rubbing her gray eyes.

Sabretooth snarled, though less at her and more at the frustration of it. "Waste o' time, that's what this is!"

Blink frowned, watching her mentor and surrogate father work himself up. "Mister Creed, it's just paper work..."

"One more form, an' I'm gonna walk up there an' shove those papers right up her-- OW!"

Adrie shook her head, dragging him back to the seats by his ponytail.

------ Three Hours Later ------

"Age?"

"None o' yer flippin' business," Wolverine growled.

"Date of birth?"

"I told ya, none o' yer business!"

*heavy sigh* "All right, Mr. Logan. Please fill out forms D12, Y861, and R122."

"ARRRRGHHHHH!!!!"

------- Six Hours Later -------

Cyclops merrily sat at a table, filling out a stack of forms that most likely decimated a rain forest somewhere. To his right, Xavier was likewise working on some papers. Off in one corner, Victor was rocking catatonically beside an equally upset Logan. Both of them had to re-file their papers, then had to fill out several more due to inaccuracies. The memory implant excuse hadn't worked, and now they were at the ends of their ropes.

------- Ten Hours Later -------

"An' she made me redo the whole thing 'cause I misspelled 'adamantium'," Logan whimpered into Jean's shoulder, as the redheaded telepath did her best to console him.

This set Vic off again, who was almost sobbing on Adrie's shoulder while Clarice went back over his papers to catch any possible mistakes. His handwriting was practically unreadable, and she winced. "Mister Creed?"

He sniffled, "Yea, pup?"

She cringed. "It's supposed to be printed."

The whole office looked over at the resulting howl.

------ Fourteen Hours Later ------

"Mike?" Kitty shook her sleeping boyfriend, from where he had racked out with his head on Joel's shoulder. No luck... the farmboy was dead to the world.

Joel mumbled, "Wha...?"

"We're all finished," Shadowcat answered, softly, shaking Mike again.

Finally he opened his eyes, yawning. "Done?"

"Yep."

Mike got up, cracking his neck and looking around the office. It was considerably quieter now that Sabretooth and Wolverine had been straight-jacketed and muzzled and taken off. Scott was still happily working away, now going through the detailed version of his family history. One clerk was already being carted to the Mental Ward after trying to read it, and another was getting close as she went on to the seventh or eighth page. Scott was currently on page twenty-three and showed no signs on slowing down.

"What about him?" Mike asked, staying well away from the stack.

"He'll be out next week," Kitty assured, taking his hand.

The rest of the ShadowKnight and X-Men teams from the IP&S universe finally made their exit.

-------- TTPCTS Club, Following Morning -------

"Mike! MikeMikeMikeMikeMike!!!" The parrot flew over, landing on Mike's shoulder and squawking gleefully.

Mike grinned up at the bird. "Morning."

Alexis and Shauna looked up, both immediately fixating on Joel, but the black ShadowKnight uniform took away their thunder. Shauna straightened up from her mineral water, eyeing the ragged and nerve-wracked troop of Fictives. "Who are you?"

Mike, taking on the role of leader as per usual, stepped up. "Mike Nelson, ShadowKnight Field Op and Muse." He gestured in turn to each of the rest. "Adriana Carr, Victor Creed, Clarice Ferguson, Logan, Joel Robinson, Katherine Pryde, Jean Grey, Remy LeBeau." He smirked. "And my parrot."

"He should be stuffed and mounted on a wall," Shauna muttered, then put on her professional voice again. "I take it you've been informed as to the kidnappings?"

"Yes, and we'd like to help," Kitty said, stealing back the leadership position that was hers to begin with. "Mr. Creed and Mr. Logan are both experienced trackers. Mr. Nelson, myself, and Mr. Robinson are all trained covert ops agents. If you'll let us, we'd like to give you a hand."

SLWatson

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Outside of the TTPCTS Club, a bright yellow k car screeched to a halt. One of the two occupants, a tall, twenty-ish woman, pulled out a map. She scanned it over and shook her head.

"I don't think we're anywhere near the Drake College of Accounting," she said. "Rick, did you follow all the instructions the writer gave us?"

Commander Rick nodded. "Yes I did Nan-Cy. Every single one." He looked out of his window. It was raining again. Just ten minutes earlier it had been the clearest day Rick had ever seen. This Subreality place was freaking him out.

Nan-Cy and Commander Rick weren't frequent visitors to Subreality. Their writer, taking pity on them, had let them go to visit the third annual Drake Science Fiction Convention, which was being held at the Drake College of Accounting. Rather then joining them on the car ride, she gave them a set of instructions and a map. This was very foolish of the writer; anyone experienced with Subreality knew that the place was in constant change and couldn't be mapped.

"What do you want to do?" Nan-Cy asked. "We past a bowling alley back there. Do you want to play a few games? It'll be a nice break from driving."

Rick sighed. He had been looking forward to the convention. "Why don't we go into that club and ask for directions?" he suggested.

"A man," Nan-Cy sniggered "Asking for directions. That's just so funny!" She burst out into laugher.

Rick turned bright red. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Bowling."

Shaking his head, Commander Rick got out of the car. The rain had stopped and was replaced by gale force winds so strong they nearly blew the glasses off of his face. Not wanting to be left behind, Nan-Cy quickly followed.

"TTPCTS Club. What does that mean?" she questioned after reading the sign. Most of her voice was carried off with the wind.

"Take The Plot Concept Too Seriously Club. It's for fictives whose writers take their plots way to seriously," Commander Rick explained. "We rarely come here because no one usually writes about us, let alone put us through grief or pain."

"So we're going to be asking for directions from a group of fictives in desperate need of antidepressants? Oh this is going to be fun," Nan-Cy groaned, reaching for the door.

"Please don't cause trouble Nance," Rick pleaded as the two walked in. Nan-Cy a long history of raising heck in public after she gained a human body. Rick wished she was still a computer and easier to control. Nan-Cy, however, was true to her nature. Upon seeing Wolverine, she ran up to him, grinning.

"Hey Wolfy. How's it going, eh?" she said. "You're doing pretty well for someone who walked out on his country. I bet you couldn't even finish off a box of Timbits if your life depended on it…"

Rick, not wanting to see Wolverine's reaction, quickly ran up and grabbed Nan-Cy from behind. He pulled the ex-computer over to the side.

"What did I tell you?" the commander asked.

"Don't cause trouble," Nan-Cy said, mimicking Rick.

"Don't cause trouble!" Mike's parrot squawked, startling the duo.

"Sorry but the bar's closed," Alexis told the two new comers. She looked them over. "I've never seen you guys before. That or I was so hammered that day I can't remember."

"We don't usually come 'round here. I'm Commander Richard Smith," Rick turned to Nan-Cy. "This is the Nano-Cybernetic 3000…"

"Or Nan-Cy for short," the ex-computer finished.

Shauna approached them and showed her badge. "Shauna Carlisle, SCPD. What do you know about a man named Joel Robinson?"

"Joel, Joel, Joel," Commander Rick commented. "The name sounds familiar. I think I met him in a fan fic once. Nice guy. I mean he's a nice guy, not that I met him during the Nice Guy series. How's he doing?"

"He's been missing for several days. There's been a rash of kidnappings lately and Joel seems to be the latest victim," Shauna explained.

"Oh," Rick said. "I didn't know. I just got here, eh?"

"Is there anything we can do to help out?" Nan-Cy asked.

Kitty Pryde, who had been quiet for the most part, spoke up. "Actually there is. We're planning a search and rescue. Do you two have any skills or experience we can use?"

"Of course," Rick replied. "I've got lots experience in detective work."

Nan-Cy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "I don't think reading all the Lije Baley Robot Novels counts as experience. We'll gladly help out where we can, though. It's not like we're doing anything right now."

"Except the convention," Commander Rick sighed. "But I suppose that can wait. A friend in need is a friend indeed."

Nan-Cy stared at her friend oddly. "I always thought you hated cliches?"

"There's a first time for everything," Rick said, shrugging his shoulders.

Teddog

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The bar was beginning to fill rapidly with a larger and larger group of concerned fictives. In all the time she'd come to the club in the past (which admittingly wasn't too often), Alexis had never seen it this full.

Actually, she was feeling a bit uncomfortable. Not from the crowds or anything -- she'd been in larger crowds that this before without even the slightest twinges of ochlophobia. Nor was it the ever dawning fact that she was going to have to be the one to report Joel's disappearance to Bodger, who would take it poorly enough in Writer form. If she was in her "self-insert" body, Alexis was screwed.

No, it was the presence of a few particular individuals that was bothering Alexis at the moment. First there was Shauna, of whom she'd only known for a few days and already found bloody annoying. Then there was the presence of Shadowknight Joel, which made the whole situation seem more surreal than it was already. After all, how was she supposed to take the situation seriously when the very guy they were supposed to be hunting for was sitting at the bar drinking a pint of Guinness?

Finally, although she wasn't about to tell anybody else in the bar, there was Scott Summers. Unbeknownst to anybody save her and her author, she'd known the guy in Excelsior before he'd gone off to Xavier's school. Well, more than that,actually -- they'd dated. Then he'd transfered, and the last she'd heard from him she'd received an invitation to his wedding.

She was still trying to get over that.

Shauna suddenly got up on a table and attempted to get everybody's attention. "May I have your attention please? Everybody? Will you -- SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!!"

Alexis smirked. "Here, let me. TECHNOSERVO!!!"

The crowd stopped and glared evilly at her.

"They're all yours," said Alexis, narrowly ducking a couple of half-full beer glasses chucked at her by the Shadowknights Mike and Joel.

Shauna fumed inwardly at being upstaged by this smart-alecky, one-eyed avatar, but refused to let it show. "All right, if we're all together now, we can begin. The okay has come in from headquarters, so everything should be set to go now. Sabretooth and Adriana, since he's technically a villain, the pair of you together should be able to obtain some information from the regulars at the Villain's Bailiwick that can't ordinarily be obtained by the SRPD. I also want you to check out the AoA Bar and Grill and see if you can't pick up any pertinent info there. Jean Grey and Wolverine, check the surrounding environs and see if you can't pick up any tracks or the like. Kitty and Nan-Cy, search through some of the computer systems and see if you can't pick up any details which might lead us to a culprit. Commander Rick and Clarice, I want you two to check out the housing tenements. Alexis and Gambit should check out Shantytown."

Alexis interrupted. "Hang on, you're giving me Shantytown? Wouldn't I be better suited checking out some of the avatar hangouts?"

Shauna looked at her coldly. "I think that,with your knowledge as a detective, you should do fine."

"At any rate, you've got me helpin', eh?" added Gambit, waggling his eyebrows.

Alexis crossed her arms sullenly. "Like I don't know the REAL reason she's sending me there."

"At any rate, I'll take care of the main government offices and science buildings, since I have clearance. Mike and Joel, do a pub crawl and see if you can get any info out of the customers."

"All right!" Mike and Joel high-fived each other.

"And Mr. Servo? Stay here and forward any newcomers towards the search. We can use all the help we can get," finished Shauna.

"D'oh! Supporting character again. Phooey." Servo pouted.

"Hey, look at it this way, little fellow -- at least you don't have to get your hands dirty," said Joel cheerfully.

"How CAN I? I can't even USE them!"

Shauna ignored this strain of conversation. "Now, are there any questions?"

Commander Rick raised his hand. "Yeah, I've got one -- how come it took you four days to get permission for something like this?"

Everybody muttered to themselves about that question. Shauna answered, as if rehearsed, "We had to go through a certain set of procedures before allowing civilians to aid us."

"Oh, I get it, BUREAUCRACY," summarized Alexis.

All the fictives seemed to accept this as a logical explanation, which bugged the SRPD officer to no end.

"ANYWAY, we should get started before the trail gets any colder. Now move out!"

***
Meta: Excelsior is the name of one of the schools that trainee Superheroes in
Alexis's planned storyline go to. It's relatively prestigious, but not as much as Xavier's.

Bodger

---------------------------------------<

"A fine specimen," some version of Sinister or another said, eyeing Adriana as she and Victor walked into the Villains' Bailiwick. He then ate his own teeth in a quick and bloody meal.

Sabretooth, even in his much more civilized Age of Apocalypse persona, was not someone to piss off. And a real quick way to piss him off was to say something unkosher to or about his lady. "Anyone else?" he asked, deep voice rumbling in a growl.

Most of the other villains had the good sense to go back to their private matters, while Sinister regenerated himself in a sulking manner, retreating back to his corner. Adriana giggled to herself, murmuring to her companion, "Well, now I know where that green-eyed monster thing came from, don't I?"

Vic tossed her a frown, heading for the bar. "Yo!"

For some strange reason, Apocalypse was tending the bar. Whether this was normal or not, the searching duet didn't particularly care. "WHAT?"

"You seen this guy?" Victor asked, abruptly, trying to resist the natural instinct to leap over the bar and start wailing on the creature who, in his universe, he spent years fighting. He held up a picture of Joel.

"I SEE ALL, I AM ETERNAL," Apocalypse answered, grandly.

Adriana rolled her eyes, none too impressed. She had heard more grandiose speeches in her time on the Xavier Estate than anyone should ever have to tolerate. "That a yes or a no?"

"UM... NO."

"Great." The dark-red head turned, addressing the rest of the general audience, "What about the rest of you?"

A chorus of obscenities and nos answered back. One villain version of Gambit gave her a probing look, and even before Vic had a chance to rip his throat out, Adrie did something far more cruel... she walked calmly over and flicked his nose as hard as she could. While he was whimpering, she arched an eyebrow at the rest of the baddies. "Anything else?"

Not an answer. Whether this was because nose-flicking was a very painful thing, or because Sabretooth had that gleam of "Say another word and you die... very slowly" in his green eyes was anyone's guess. The unlikely pair walked back out unaccosted.

"So what was with the nose thingy, anyway?" Vic asked, once they were well out of earshot.

"Trade secret," Adrie answered, smiling up at him. She took the lead as they began their trek to the AOA Bar and Grill.

Sabe grinned to himself and followed.

- -------- - --

"Guinness," Mike said, leaning on the bar in the Subreality Cafe. The Barkeep slid down the drink, while Joel went around asking questions as to whether anyone had seen him... well, the other him, recently.

"No, not me, a different me," Joel tried to explain. "Looks just like me, but he's not wearing black... you know, the manager over at the TTPCTS Club version of me."

A troop of Logans shook their oddly peaked heads, then went back to arguing.

Joel moved to the next group, this being a few Gen X fictives on their off duty. One look at the cracking on the gum and the trendy fashions, and he wrote that one off. Finally he walked back to the bar, sitting down and taking Mike's Guinness from him. "This is impossible."

"Nu uh, just not easy," Mike answered, gesturing for another beer.

"Hssssst."

The two men at the bar went tense.

"Skkkkkt!"

"Aw crap," Mike said, softly, taking the two pints of Guinness and verrrrry slowly lowering them to the floor, making sure his movements were non-threatening.

"Think... um, think we should go?" Joel gulped, nervously. They had learned very early on to avoid the slippers at all costs.

"Yep." Mike answered, slipping off of the stool and edging well away from the bunny-slippers that were rapidly taking the Guinness. Joel went the opposite way.

Joel also made the mistake of not hiding the gummis that were peaking out of his pants pocket.

The ShadowKnights ran. Wink-Wink and Nudge-Nudge followed.

- --------- - --

Logan looked up from a path through the treed area in time to hear a bloodcurdling yell of fear and anguish. Jean jumped, startled, and the two of them went towards the road. Mike and Joel, their versions, were running top speed. Behind them were two bunny slippers, one smoking a cigar and one wearing sunglasses.

They exchanged a glance and grinned. Apparently this wasn't going to be an uneventful mission after all.

- --------- - --

"Did I jus' see what I thought I saw?" Vic asked, scratching his head.

"Bunny slippers?" Adrie asked in turn, eyebrows drawn.

"Yea..."

"I think so."

Sabretooth took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Okay, let's chock this up ta weird an' keep goin'."

Adriana looked after the dust balls that were waaaay down the road and nodded.

SLWatson

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