Be careful...
folder
-Misc TV Shows › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,439
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Misc TV Shows › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,439
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part Three
Finally Scribe found a hefty volume entitled Convenient Plot Devices. "Heeeeey! Here we go. Lessee... Escape, escape, escape... Ah. Air ducts, Alleyways, Breaking Through Doors, Catwalks, Dimensional Rifts. Dimensional Rifts, To and From. Okay, From." (flip flip) "Hm. Look behind the Book of Magical Fashions on the third shelf."
Xander lifted down a large, coffee-table style book and rummaged behind it, then brough out what he found and showed them to Scribe.
She stared at them, blinking at the crimson sparkles that bounced off, even in the dim light that seeped in from the outside. "Oh, hell no! Xander, I've been running through all three of these series barefooted. I do not feel like going formal at this late stage."
He shrugged. "You can always stay here. I'm sure Sam and Al are waiting up at the front desk, and Angelus is bound to have woken up by now, and he probably went and let Spike out of the coffin..."
"How do you know about all this?" He pointed out to the monitor. "Uh huh. Damn different levels of reality. Okay, gimme."
Xander handed them over. Scribe peered inside. "Size 10. They should fit, since I'm not wearing socks." She slipped them on. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Wait!" Xander draped himself over her, arms around her neck. "Now you can try it."
Scribe sighed. "I feel like such a freakin' dork. Well, put my hair in pigtails and call me Dorothy." She clicked the heels of the ruby slippers together three times. "There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like the double-wide, there's no place like home..."
The transfer was not the abrupt jarring thump that it had been. Her surroundings seemed to just sort of fade away, then come back into focus. But this time she was in her own bedroom, instead of a tiny hidden room.
But she still had Xander Harris hanging on to her. "Did we make it?" he asked.
"I don't know. I thought I had last time. We'd better go check."
It wasn't all that easy to walk with Harris following her in lock-step, now with his arms around her waist. The house looked normal. No Mountie or wolf in the living room. Just the weiner dog, and her Mom.
Scribe almost wilted in relief. "Mom, am I glad to see you!"
"I was just on my way out for a trip to the Coushatta Reservation. I... um... hear that their doing tribal dances today. Yeah, dances. Scribe? Honey, is there any reason why you're wearing a cheerleader outfit."
"Um... research?"
"Okay." (pause)s ths there any reason why you have a teenage boy plastered up against your butt?"
"Inspiration."
"Uh huh."
"He'll be staying here for awhile."
"Uh huh."
"I'm probably going to have a lot more visitors in the future, Mom. Don't worry. I'll have them bring groceries."
"All right, but something besides Pop Tarts, okay dear?"
"'kay."
Her Mom left. Xander was wandering around the house. "So, this is Real Life."
"What passes for it, yeah."
"Pretty nice." He came over and honked her breast. "Why don't we celebrate your return?"
"Incorrigible. Look it up."
There was a knock on the door. A bit more cautious now, Scribe put on the chain before opening it. "Yes?"
A hand thrust in, showing a flip open, official looking ID. "FBI, ma'am. I had a report that something really weird happened here that might be considered what we call an X File."
She peeked through the crack. "Mulder?"
A bright hazel eye peeked back at her. "Hey, Scribe. You ran off without getting to me. I feel neglected, and you KNOW how angsty I am to start with. I got so irritating that Dana told me to go out and get laid. Soooooo...."
"How did you...?"
"Who the hell else would be more qualified to figure out how to work the dimensional rift scam? Gonna let me in, or do I have to find one that leads to your bedroom directly?"
Scribe looked at Xander. "I kind of have someone here now."
"Who?"
"Xander Harris. You mind?"
"Are you kidding? He's almost as notorious... I mean famous as Blair Sandburg." Xander grinned, and smoothed down his hair.
"Hmm. If I time this right, I may be able to get a nap. Okay."
Scribe opened the door. "You two fellas go ahead and get acquainted. I need to go look at my Bartlett's Familiar Quotations. These past experiences remind me of a quote of some sort, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it is..."
Moral: Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
Xander lifted down a large, coffee-table style book and rummaged behind it, then brough out what he found and showed them to Scribe.
She stared at them, blinking at the crimson sparkles that bounced off, even in the dim light that seeped in from the outside. "Oh, hell no! Xander, I've been running through all three of these series barefooted. I do not feel like going formal at this late stage."
He shrugged. "You can always stay here. I'm sure Sam and Al are waiting up at the front desk, and Angelus is bound to have woken up by now, and he probably went and let Spike out of the coffin..."
"How do you know about all this?" He pointed out to the monitor. "Uh huh. Damn different levels of reality. Okay, gimme."
Xander handed them over. Scribe peered inside. "Size 10. They should fit, since I'm not wearing socks." She slipped them on. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Wait!" Xander draped himself over her, arms around her neck. "Now you can try it."
Scribe sighed. "I feel like such a freakin' dork. Well, put my hair in pigtails and call me Dorothy." She clicked the heels of the ruby slippers together three times. "There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like the double-wide, there's no place like home..."
The transfer was not the abrupt jarring thump that it had been. Her surroundings seemed to just sort of fade away, then come back into focus. But this time she was in her own bedroom, instead of a tiny hidden room.
But she still had Xander Harris hanging on to her. "Did we make it?" he asked.
"I don't know. I thought I had last time. We'd better go check."
It wasn't all that easy to walk with Harris following her in lock-step, now with his arms around her waist. The house looked normal. No Mountie or wolf in the living room. Just the weiner dog, and her Mom.
Scribe almost wilted in relief. "Mom, am I glad to see you!"
"I was just on my way out for a trip to the Coushatta Reservation. I... um... hear that their doing tribal dances today. Yeah, dances. Scribe? Honey, is there any reason why you're wearing a cheerleader outfit."
"Um... research?"
"Okay." (pause)s ths there any reason why you have a teenage boy plastered up against your butt?"
"Inspiration."
"Uh huh."
"He'll be staying here for awhile."
"Uh huh."
"I'm probably going to have a lot more visitors in the future, Mom. Don't worry. I'll have them bring groceries."
"All right, but something besides Pop Tarts, okay dear?"
"'kay."
Her Mom left. Xander was wandering around the house. "So, this is Real Life."
"What passes for it, yeah."
"Pretty nice." He came over and honked her breast. "Why don't we celebrate your return?"
"Incorrigible. Look it up."
There was a knock on the door. A bit more cautious now, Scribe put on the chain before opening it. "Yes?"
A hand thrust in, showing a flip open, official looking ID. "FBI, ma'am. I had a report that something really weird happened here that might be considered what we call an X File."
She peeked through the crack. "Mulder?"
A bright hazel eye peeked back at her. "Hey, Scribe. You ran off without getting to me. I feel neglected, and you KNOW how angsty I am to start with. I got so irritating that Dana told me to go out and get laid. Soooooo...."
"How did you...?"
"Who the hell else would be more qualified to figure out how to work the dimensional rift scam? Gonna let me in, or do I have to find one that leads to your bedroom directly?"
Scribe looked at Xander. "I kind of have someone here now."
"Who?"
"Xander Harris. You mind?"
"Are you kidding? He's almost as notorious... I mean famous as Blair Sandburg." Xander grinned, and smoothed down his hair.
"Hmm. If I time this right, I may be able to get a nap. Okay."
Scribe opened the door. "You two fellas go ahead and get acquainted. I need to go look at my Bartlett's Familiar Quotations. These past experiences remind me of a quote of some sort, but for the life of me, I can't remember what it is..."
Moral: Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.