Welcome to the wonderful world of A Funny Little Apocalypse Coming, or as we affectionately call it AFLAC.

Our world is set in an Alternate Universe that dares to ask that ages old question... What would happen if an ancient and completely crazy ex-general decided to try be June Cleaver? This is just what happens when Madison Harris, once a general in Hannibal's army, sets up house in a settled, family oriented, middle-class subdivision of Seacouver. Join us as we discover what happens when a peaceful, little community of mostly normal mortals are suddenly confronted by a... well... a gathering... of Immortals.

This AU contains canon Immortals who have died in the series and movies, and yet continue to live in our world. Canon Immortals who have never met may meet here, and probably will. The focus of the story, however, is on the Original Characters, of which there are quite a few.

The authors, known as the ImmortalAlliance, are a group of five individual writers (with the occasional guest writer). Individually, we are known as Bladelover, ttZorro, Madigirl, Zalyka, and SouthernBreeze. We first starting writing together on a chain fic where we first created our original characters, found we shared common interests, and a similar, if slightly twisted view, of the world. We decided to take our characters to their own little world and AFLAC was born. Since this is a collaborative effort, but we are each writers in our own right, we will start each chapter by telling which author or authors were involved.

All the Canon Characters belong to Davis/Panzer, as do the original concepts we are so happily borrowing. We are not making a cent off of this, but enjoying it immensely all the same. All the original characters belong to their authors and may not be used without their explicit permissions.

Chapter One is submitted by Madigirl

As she sat astride her horse, smiling grimly as she surveyed the army marching past, Londinium allowed herself the pleasure of feeling the warm afternoon sun on her back. Hannibal would be pleased. They were making a name for themselves as they traveled inexorably toward Rome. They were a force to be feared; strong, fearsome, ruthless, and unstoppable. By the time they reached the gates of the City itself, the people should just lay down their weapons in terror, and plead for their lives. She wondered, idly, if Hannibal would indeed spare them.

Her musings were interrupted as a messenger ran toward her. He stopped before her and, falling to one knee, bowed his head to the ground, waiting to be acknowledged. Londinium watched the passing troops for a few minutes before turning her horse to face the waiting man. Looking down from her position of power, she finally spoke. "Give me your report."

Without standing, or looking up, the man gave his report, word for word as it was given to him. "Valerium sends his greetings to the General. He has returned and wishes to report that there is one great house and two small villages ahead. He reports that initial scouting shows no threat of resistance. He recommends that we march through."

Londinium turned to an aide that waited at her side. "See that he is given rest." Then without giving the messenger another glance, she spurred her horse forward. She rode quickly past the marching troops, her long red hair flowing behind her, giving the image that fire followed her as she rode. When she reached a small collection of tents, she halted, and jumping from her horse, strode quickly to where a man stood at a small table, studying maps rolled out before him.

"Val!" Londinium greeted her Second, and her closest friend, effusively. "How long until we arrive at Rome?"

Valerium looked up from his maps and smiled broadly at the approaching woman. "General, greetings." Londinium was struck, as she often was when she came upon her Second, by the ease with which he wore his authority. His manner here, in front of the troops, was essentially the same as it was as when they were alone. It was a quality she admired, but could not afford to emulate. "It's only a matter of days." He pointed at the map on the table. "We're close, now. The only thing in our way are these villages." He drew a line with his finger that intersected several small patches of humanity. "They shouldn't slow us down much. Our scouts report they're simple farms. There are no weapons, or warriors, in fact, very few men."

"They won't slow us at all." Londinium said, looking at the map. They were much closer than she had thought. Hannibal would be pleased with her report tonight. "Burn them."

"Burn them?" The man before her wore an expression that betrayed his confusion and shock. "But it's unnecessary. They provide no threat, no resistance."

Londinium gave the man before her a dark look. Had there been anyone foolish enough to eavesdrop, they would have thought the young-looking general had grown suddenly taller than her usual 5' 6". "I decide what is necessary."

"Londinium." Valerium lowered his voice as he talked to his friend, and not his commander. "They are mostly woman and children."

"And so the greater impact." Val looked into cold, blue eyes, and saw no trace of the woman he called his friend. "Do as I say, or I will find another who can obey orders... and you shall share their fate."

The general walked back to her horse, mounted and rode away to report to Hannibal.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrng

The jarring sound of the phone ringing caused the young-looking woman to jolt upright. She sat there trying lose the encampment in her head and replace it with the bedroom before her eyes. She blinked against the morning sun showing through the slats in the blinds, and put down the cavalry saber that had, almost miraculously, appeared in her hands. When the phone rang again, impossibly loud, she picked it up as quickly as she could, knocking over the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels that sat next to it.

"Damn!" she shouted into the phone.

"Most people say hello, before they swear at me." The voice on the other end carried the bemused sarcasm that Madison recognized all too well.

"They don't know you as well as I do, Adam." Madison ran her fingers through her hair, frowning both at the still unfamiliar length, and at the fact that, beneath her fingers, her head was throbbing. "What do you want at..." She picked up the clock and stared at it in disbelief. "Six o'clock?"

"Interesting thing." The voice on the other end of the phone was irritatingly jovial, and just loud enough to grate. "I woke to find that someone had called and left six separate messages on my voice mail, all demanding to know if my friend was really going to show up and play at her party." There was a sudden high-pitched tone that seemed to drag on for at least an hour. "Oh, sorry, finger slipped and hit the button. If I recall, that last call contained a threat that involved chains and hot irons if he wasn't, and I quote, 'the best damned thing this neighborhood had ever seen.'"

Madison grimaced, but couldn't stop herself. She had to ask. "He is coming, isn't he? Methos, you were the one who convinced me a blues player would be just the thing for my party. The party planner, what's his name... Marcelo. He said a nice quartet would be better." Madison started frantically pushing the button on the intercom that was connected to the apartment above the garage. "Dammit, Methos! You promised."

"Relax." The voice was now openly laughing. "He's coming, and so am I, thanks for asking. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

A new voice was added to the conversation, as the intercom began to talk. "What can I do for you, Ms. Harris?"

The voice of Madison's personal assistant was a welcome oasis of calm and quiet. "Riccio, what time is Marcelo going to be here?"

"Seven, this morning, Ms. Harris." There was a sound of rustling paper. Madison mused that no matter what time she summoned Isabella Riccio, she always sounded wide awake, and she always had papers at hand. "He wants to be here before the decorators and caterer."

"Ok, good. Thanks, Riccio." Madison was about to hang up the phone, when she remembered she had been talking to two people.

"Adam?"

"So glad you remembered me." There was a sound that Madison was pretty sure was a bottle being opened in the distance. "Look, Maddy." The voice lost its irony and sounded sincere, maybe even concerned. "It's not too late to cancel this thing if you want to."

Madison carried the phone with her to bathroom and stared in the mirror at a face that wore conservative red-brown hair, smartly cut, where she was used to seeing bright red spikes. "Now why would I want to do that? I have to get to know my neighbors sometime." She looked longingly at the jeans and t-shirt that lay wadded up in the corner, and then smoothed a wrinkle in the tank top she would be wearing above the khaki skirt she had chosen to wear today.

"No reason." The voice paused. "I'm bringing a friend. I hope you don't mind."

Madison sighed and reached behind the curtain to turn on the shower. "No. Bring them. The more the merrier, I guess."