Title: The HSU Zone
Author: Ostensible Darry, but anyone can have a go- write your own character doing whatever you'd do
Rating: HazMat
Disclaimer: probably should apologise to the CDC for this one
Archive: yuppers

Night. Late. Was anyone asleep? No. Well, the tiger family was all curled up into one big orange and black fuzzy ball that rumbled with their breathing. They contentedly snoozed away under the exam table in the Clinic.

Unseen by anyone, a lone chicken scratched its way through the HSU gate, carrying a small camouflage phial in its beak.

The perimeter alarm went off. Legolas heard it. He heard it as he dashed toward the tree line and safety. The motorcycle which pursued him gained speed.

This is certainly faster than that damn zamboni, thought Kendra, shifting gears.

~*~

Night. Or day? It was hard to tell over by the cottage as floodlights had been erected in order for the miners/construction workers to continue building Qui-Gon and Dande's deck and Max and Jael's fort.

"Lookin zee here Frau, vee needing das, ya? Zee vanting das vater- ring poor einen schtrooongholt. Making mit zee vork schnell, ya? You vill do vat Haken spreck." Haken pleaded with Jael as she stood her ground in front of her temporary home.

"Jael, please give the bulldozer to the troops. We can stay with Cicero tonight."

"Oh joy," Jael groused as she climbed into the cab of the machine and grabbed her collection of "What Scimitar" magazine.

The bulldozer started up with a huge roar. Behind them, a chainsaw began rattling.

The chicken pecked a hole in the phial and unleashed its contents into the air.

~*~

Night. Only midnight and she still had another closet to go. Why had she decided to organise them now, she didn't know.

Yes she did.

The General had told her he would be helping Qui-Gon tonight and then had an appointment with Tara. She'd just have to wait. And why not do something constructive.

Yeah, construct this, General, Emmy thought darkly, wondering if she had Imelda Marcos' phone number handy.

~*~

Night. "Goodnight, my sweet baby," Dor cooed. "I will love no other as I love you."

"Dorotea, your devotion is admirable, if misplaced." Aragorn quietly said against the Librarian's neck. "But please let us return to the trees."

Dor took the Woodsman's hand and with a fleeting backward glance at the object of her affection, slowly left the garage.

~*~

Night. Dark. Smooth. Sweet. Hershey's.

"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." Cic ran his finger up the Nurse's leg and flank as he read what was written there.

~*~

Night. A light on in Tara's room. An assignation approaching.

She agonised. The red and gold was so cheerful. But it looked a bit holiday-esque, and the Holidays were over. Maybe the black and red. Or the blue and silver.

Unable to decide, she rang the General's mobile phone.

"Yes, Tara?" said the mellifluous voice as the General answered his phone (which for some reason was programmed to ring using the Imperial March from Star Wars). Hmmm, he thought. Must stop buying phone accessories from that pharmaceutical rep who visits the university from time to time.

"What will you be wearing tonight? I need to choose a glitter."

"I thought I'd wear the leathah. Does that help?"

"Gnnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhh...."

Blue and silver. Definitely.

She poured some out on her hand.

It burned like hell. "YEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

~*~

The whining engine of the motorcycle faded. Perhaps that was just a clever ploy, thought Legolas, as he reached the trees. Perhaps that strange woman was lurking just out of sight. Not to worry, though, he was safe. He made a leap for the branches.

THWAK! He cracked open his skull on the bark and fell into a blonde heap.

~*~

Kendra dropped the motorcycle in the field by the trees. What was she doing? This was Scott's motorcycle. And Logan borrowed it all the time. Blech. She raced toward the Administration building so she could wash her hands. And maybe the butt of her jeans as well.

~*~

"What about Arkansas, love? Weren't you supposed to be invading them tonight?" Laure asked facetiously as Commo walked into their rooms and began stripping off his lorica. She sat inspecting the artwork she had just rendered on her toenails.

"No man, what a downer that would have been."

"HUH?" Laure turned and looked at him. Commo began rummaging around in a chest of drawers until he found what he had been looking for. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Commo pulled on a pair of Laure's faded jeans and found her secret t- shirt collection. He now sported the one she had bought at the last Grateful Dead concert she'd been to.

"Chillin' out, man. You need to learn to relax. Hey, you think the Nurse might have a little medicinal ganja we could score?" Commo walked to the door and held up his fingers. "Peace, man."

Laure opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

~*~

"I am sure we should have asked to gain entrance," Max said to Jael as she jammed her sword between the Clinic door and the hinge. The door swung open smoothly. Just as the two warriors were about to enter, they were nearly mowed down by a convoy of tigers charging out.

The alarm started blaring.

"Goodness, what a racket," Jael said, depositing her sword on the exam table and switching on the lights.

Max looked at her. "What was that, darling?"

"I said it was rather noisy in here. Gosh, maybe we should have brought some cookies or a fruitcake with us, since we're inviting ourselves to stay." Jael walked around the place inspecting the decor.

Max walked to the foot of the spiral staircase, hoping to encounter his faithful servant. Instead, he just heard swearing.

"Max, what do you think? Should we maybe help Darry with a bit of refurbishment? This place is so clinical."

"I agree, darling. I'm thinking…" Max looked around the room. "… chintz."

~*~

The Clinic alarms began bleating. And bleating. And bleating.

"Fuck!"

"I am!"

"No I mean, fuck, the alarm is going off. Someone's downstairs." Darry attempted to extricate herself from a tangle of limbs and blankets. "Whoever that is is dog meat." She sat up and aimed her manicure at the alarm speaker. Nothing happened. She gave her hands a shake and then aimed again. No sparks, no lightning.

Nothing.

"FUCK!"

"Era, pero entonces el alarmar se apago." Cicero said, sitting up.

"Huh?" Darry turned to face him, ignoring the noises from downstairs for the moment.

"Ich sagte, war ich, aber dann ging die Warnung aus." Cic looked befuddled. What the hell did he just say?

"Okayyyy " Darry looked from Cic to her fingernails and then back to the speakers. She finally got out of bed and picked up a hammer from Cic's tool belt. Then she made mincemeat of the speaker.

She threw on a pair of scrubs and motioned to Cic to follow her. He complied.

~*~

Cal, who had signed himself up for archery on impulse walked to the field and looked around for the instructor. He wasn't there. Kendra was, though. Wearing a biohazard suit.

"What's up with that?" Cal asked, looking at the plastic wrap covering Kendra's bow.

"What's up with THAT?" Kendra asked Cal, motioning to the AK47 he had strapped to his back.

"What? You don't like it?" Cal was dressed from head to toe in camo: boots, armour, helmet, night vision-goggles and black paint.

~*~

Haken trundled into the Clinic, carrying a fountain.

"Oh thank you, Haken," said Max, nearly batting his eyelashes. "Just put it right over there." He motioned towards the X-Ray machine.

Haken had frankly had enough of heavy lifting and thought it was about time he told his boss so.

"General," the big Germanian began. "The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones."

"Whatever you say, dear." Max replied.

~*~

Sere stood in her dark room developing the pictures Julia had taken. She hoped her sister hadn't captured anything too incriminating this time. The hubbub over Judy and her new EF/EA/Whatever was just dying and the last thing the Tattler needed was more bad press.

Having said that, press was press.

Sere smiled mischievously and inspected the results:

Emmy trying to decide which pair of clunky shoes was clunkier than the other.

Cal and Mr Vocab arguing over what looked like a broken axel on Cal's wagon.

About a hundred of Legolas in various gymnastic-like positions.

Same for a couple of Cicero and the Nurse, which probably should be displayed with some kind of parental advisory warning.

Commo and Quintus pouring over a map of the Midwest.

Laure shouting down the phone, no doubt in quiet conversation with Spike.

Dor talking to Aragorn, the latter holding his sword protectively to his chest.

The firemen playing poker.

The General, Qui-Gon and Tasha looking over blueprints.

Max and Jael practicing Tai Chi at dawn.

Judy wiping down her bar with a secret smile playing across her lips.

And Ky and JenJen phoning in an order with the Pink Banana catalogue open on the table in front of them.

The usual.

Sere hung the photos up and put the next batch into the developing fluid. Then she carefully opened the door, exposing them all.

Oops.

~*~

Darry stood next to the exam table, carefully stitching up the Elf's head. Around her, some of the miners were pasting up wallpaper and Jael was busy sorting out curtain patterns. Max was attempting to bake scones in the autoclave.

"Hand me the scissors, will you?" Darry held out her hand without looking up.

"Oui, voici les sissors." Cicero handed them to her.

"Cic, why don't you go see if you can find Ellie, okay?"

"Approvazione. Andre la trovo." He made for the door, walking around the potted plants, which had just been delivered.

"Right, 'Las, you're good as new. You'll have a headache for a bit, but nothing too awful. Just keep it clean and covered and come and see me in a week to take the stitches out."

Legolas nodded and slid off the table. Darry watched as he tripped over a fern on the way out the door.

~*~

Judy slouched behind the bar in a pair of raggedy jeans and a grimy t- shirt, reading the latest copy of "Yankee Slugger Quarterly". A shipment had been delivered that morning, but Haken hadn't turned up to help her unload and store it all. She had made a half-hearted attempt to unpack the cases, but had become bored after fifteen minutes and now the place was full of wrapping, boxes and bottles.

The door opened and Scott appeared, leading Shana by the hand. He carefully helped her around the debris and into a booth. Then he went to the bar.

"I need a B-52 and a beer, please!" Scott shouted.

"Get it yourself." Judy didn't even look up.

Scott waited patiently, but the bartender wasn't moving.

"I SAID, I NEED A-"

"I heard you, the first time. I'm busy." Judy looked up and saw the mutant smiling insipidly at her and Shana sitting in a booth wearing dark glasses.

"CAN I GET THE DRINKS, PLEASE?!" Scott shouted.

"Oh, all right," Judy huffed. She slapped the drinks on the bar, spilling most of them. Scott took the glasses as Judy went back to her magazine.

~*~

"Eu disse, Darry necessito-o na cl¡nica." Cicero watched Ellie scratch at the reddening skin on her forearm. "Are-ay ou-yay all-ay ight-ray?"

Ellie attempted again to shoo the tiger family out of the office. "No! I'm not all right." She loudly blew her nose. "I've got hives and I can't stop- ah- ah- ah chooo- sneezing."

"Gazundheit."

"Thanks." Ellie blew her nose again. "Now what do you want, again?"

Cic motioned for her to follow him rather than try to continue the conversation. Ellie grabbed her box of Kleenex and left the office with him.

The tigers did too.

Logan was waiting for them just outside the Vet's door. "Repent sinners, yea and the Lord will smile on you!"

He thumped a book to emphasise his point. Unfortunately, Logan hadn't been able to locate a bible in the Admin building that wasn't in Hebrew or being used as a paperweight, so he had had to do with the biggest book he could find in Ellie's office. Alas, at this moment, brandishing the "American Kennel Club's Guide to Breeding Bassets" was just a tad less effective than the word of God would have been.

~*~

"What the hell is wrong?" Emmy shouted over the construction noise.

Darry placed Emmy's red and swollen feet in a bucket of warm medicated water. "I'm trying to find out why you all of sudden can't seem to wear any pair of clunky shoes, so stop fidgeting."

"Not me, idiot, I mean the General. He's turning into Cousin It!" She splashed water all over Darry to emphasise the point.

"Huh? I haven't seen the General this morning."

"Buscuit?" Max shoved a plate of cookies in front of the two women.

"No!" the Hos yelled in unison.

"Must be some kind of virus or bacterium that's in the air or water. That's my theory at least," Darry said, pushing the Germanian out of the way. Haken was now installing chandeliers over the exam tables.

"Any physical theory is always provisional, in the sense that it is only a hypothesis: you can never prove it. No matter how many times the results of experiments agree with some theory, you can never be sure that the next time the result will not contradict the theory."

"Yes, thank you, Einstein," Emmy grumbled, glaring at Hak. "The General is growing hair in places no man should have hair." Emmy looked at her feet sadly. "Really, pretty soon he'll look like Helena Bonham Carter.

"Well, send him here and I'll try to sort him out." Darry gave a much put-upon sigh.

"You think you'll recognize him? You probably couldn't even without him looking like a gerbil." Emmy's mood was not helped by the fact that she couldn't put on one pair of her shoes. Even her clunky slippers made her feet swell up.

"Oh, ha, ha. Yes, I think I'll recognize him. He's the one with the light sabre, right?"

"Yeah, the one who ISN'T Xani, Qui-Gon or a BackStreet Boy. And can I have a phone? I've got to sort out what to do about the tour I was supposed to organize for this morning."

"Padawan!" the Nurse roared over the interior decorating. Ellie came running, scratching and followed by two tigers. "A phone for the Diva."

Ellie absently reached into her pocket and pulled out a mobile.

Emmy looked around the Clinic. Hmmm. Jael normally couldn't be trusted to lead a tour without involving herself into some kind of armed conflict, but at the moment, she seemed more interested in floral arranging.

Laure was over in the corner gargeling with some strange looking fluid in the hopes of her voice returning by the evening. Cicero would be great provided the guests were Turkish, Russian, Japanese and Hopi. Scott couldn't hear shit. Shana couldn't see shit. Judy would probably lead them through a pile of shit.

Julia and Sere couldn't be trusted with anything more technical than a pillow at the moment.

How about Kymira? Yeah, she was good in a crisis. Usually. When she was sober and dressed. Emmy dialed her mobile number.

"Hello, this is Kymira. Thank you for calling. Your number will be stored for future sales calls. You know, you can never have enough Amway products-" Emmy hung up quickly. Nope.

Jen? Hmm. As if hearing her name, JenJen entered on cue, wearing a long fur coat and holding a white yapping toy poodle under her arm. "Darlene," she said in a very fake, very cultured accent. "I do wish you would check the rabble that seems to be accumulating at the door to the premises. Muffy and I almost had to queue."

Darry looked up from peering into one of Scott's ears. "Huh?"

"This office- it's so…tacky." She looked around at the building work and then to Jael, who was taking a break from decorating and instead was tatting doilies. "But I like what you're doing to it."

Darry glanced over at Cicero, who was attempting through hand signals to have a conversation with his General. Darry caught his eye and he came over. The Nurse inclined her head toward their newest patient.

"Si, si, gracias, senorita," Cic said solicitously to JenJen, as he took her arm and guided her to the door. "Hasta luego."

"But, I say-" Jen started.

"Adios."

"Now see here-" the door was slowly closed on her (and her little dog, too).

"Ciao."

Back to the drawing board, thought Emmy. One of the tigers padded over and began lapping up the water from the bowl in which her feet were submerged. "Ok, that's just nasty." She pulled her feet out of the bowl and stomped barefoot out of the room.

~*~

Laure sat at her computer sending an e-telegram the vampire-type guy. "Have lost voice. Stop. Get back here soon. Stop. Need you to speak for me. Stop. What the hell am I saying? Stop!"

"I'm right here, pet," said Spike from behind her at the door. She turned and looked at him. He still wore the fashionable leather jacket, but it was covered in blood. "What's that horrible smell?"

Laure made an angry gesture. He wasn't supposed to be able to kill anything. And he was supposed to be keeping his paws, fangs and every other part of his anatomy off the Slayer.

"It's MY blood," he clarified. "I cut myself open on a fag packet and started bleeding. And now I can't. Stop."

Laure looked dubious but stood and walked around Commo, who was sitting on the carpet in the lotus position next to a foul-smelling incense stick. "Man, that's harsh," Commo said to Spike. "Oohhhmmmm…."

"What the fuck was that?" Spike asked as Laure bade a hasty retreat.

~*~

Dande stomped into the Dean's office. "Well, what the hell is it? Jerry Springer starts in five minutes and I've still gotta stop at Asda and pick up some more RC."

"Dande? Is that you? Emmy stopped winding her feet in Ace bandages long enough to survey the Wench.

~*~

Meanwhile, at the cottage, Cara was having trouble grabbing onto her father's hair like she usually did when he picked her up. That's because all of it was on the floor.

Qui-Gon looked around for a hat. His eyes came to rest on the Easter bonnet Dande had made for Cara the previous year.

The Force is testing me, he muttered under his breath, wondering how badly red gabardine clashed with Jedi ochre.

~*~

And speaking of clashing badly, Aragorn was being shouted at.

"I said, how does this look?" Dor did a twirl on the branch.

"Sell. Sell! If you let that stock get any lower, I'm gonna have to unload the SUV," Aragorn shouted into one of Dor's cracked crystal balls.

Suddenly the tree shook violently and there was a hail of gunfire.

"Oops, that was my bad," yelled Cal, as he crawled to the tree on his belly, trying to be aware of Ewok snipers. He looked up. "Hey you look like Sheena Easton in that. Does that outfit have an off switch?"

Dor scowled down at Cal.

"I can be on the Coast tomorrow morning, but I've got a three-o'clock in Phili, so it'll have to be quick," Aragorn said to his phantom broker.

Dor shook her head. Her huge neon earrings shook with her.

~*~

"And frankly, we're not sure what's going on." Sere stood in the empty rugby field with a mic in her hand. Julia stood five feet away holding a video camera. "HSU seems to be under some sort of curse and may have to be quarantined." Ellie and Darry are working to try to isolate whatever might be causing this. Well, they are when Ellie isn't scratching and Darry and Cic can keep their hands off each other. Seems the language of boink is universal."

"I was able to get this comment from the Germanian standing guard at the gate:

"Much have I seen and known,-- cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honor'd of them all,-- And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.'

"Nice words, but do they really apply in this crisis? Hard to say, viewers." Behind Sere the fire truck rolled by, lights flashing, siren blaring. The hunky firemen all seemed to be dressed as can-can dancers.

Well, there's something you don't see everyday, Julia thought to herself, as she adjusted the focus.

"Meanwhile the Dean is desperately looking for someone to lead the tour of prospective students and their families, and her choices now seem to be limited to Lindsey and the `bots. So Shana, when you see this programme, please get in touch with the Dean's office as soon as possible.

"That's all for now Estrogen County," Sere wrapped. "Please stay tuned for more information and any instructions that may be issued. Good night."

Sere lowered the mic and Julia lowered the camera. "Great work, sis," she said, as she and Sere made for the Admin building. "I'll get that out as soon as I can." She looked down at the camera and slowly stopped walking. "Oh, I guess I should have turned it on, huh?"

~*~

TBC by anyone who wants to take over…

Cicspeak courtesy of BableFish Translations, AltaVista
Hakspeak courtesy of Dande, Marx & Engles, Stephen Hawking and James Joyce.