Definitely an AU story! None of these characters, real or imagined, are mine. I'm just trying to have some fun! Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Thanks to purdy again for giving me the name of the alternative TV show!

Mirror Image Madness

By WritePassion

The sigh over the phone line was deafening in his ear. "I'm sorry I don't have better news, Dave. We're dead in the water here."

"We start production in a week. Murray, why didn't anyone see this coming?" David Fox strode stiffly around his office, barely noticing the beautiful sunny Miami day. "What are we going to do? Tony's in town, Ian just got here today, I just talked to him on the phone before you called." He let out a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I've got actors but no crew. How does that happen?"

"I'm sorry, David. Until this strike is over, there's not much we can do. Maybe it'll blow over in a week."

"And in the meantime I have contracts to fulfill, expenses..." He swung his arm in the air as if he were sweeping all that away. "Never mind that. Just talk to the union rep, see if they can make an exception. I mean, everybody loves Burned, right? They're killing our show!" He cut off the conversation and dropped into his chair. He was a young guy, in good health, but sometimes being the creator of a hit TV show could be the death of him. Like today. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. Telling his actors they came all this way for nothing would not be pleasant. Fortunately some of them lived locally, but for the others... He figured he'd start with Ian Benton. He was a cool guy, laid back, and flexible. He probably wouldn't be too upset about having to fly back to Oregon to hide out in the mountains for awhile until things were settled here in Miami.

"Hello." Ian drew out the syllables, and David could tell he was already in Miami mode. Probably sitting by the pool enjoying the sunshine and a nice cold drink. David wished he could join him.

"Hey Ian, it's David."

"Dave! We just talked a little while ago. What's up?" Yeah, he was at the pool. David heard a splash in the background.

"I, uh, don't really know how to break it to you, but..."

"What. You're not killing me off, are you?"

"No way, Ian, I'd never do that. The show wouldn't be the same without Sam Axe." He said it and meant it. Ratings and fan mail don't lie. They had one of the best, if not the best, ensembles on TV.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. So what's the deal?" He paused. "What's wrong, Dave?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" He knew Ian could tell from the tense tone of his voice that not everything was right with his world. They'd had some pretty interesting conversations over the past six years and shared some intimate things. That was natural on a project where the crew became your second family after spending so much time together. David had come to think of both Ian and Rick Magnuson as brothers, the kind he could boss around when the cameras were rolling, but equals off set. Yes, Ian knew when there was trouble brewing in his life, and he always responded with concern and kindness.

"Come on, Dave. You can't BS me. Something's going on or you wouldn't have called. Just get it off your chest, and you'll feel better. Trust me."

David chuckled, but the sound didn't convey amusement. "Okay, you asked for it. We're shut down until further notice. There's a film production union strike, just the local branch in Miami. So until they get their act together and agree on a new contract, we've got no lights, no sound, no cameras, no action. Nothing." He groaned and ran a hand over his face. "I should really have a meeting with everyone about this."

"Well, we do have that kick-off dinner planned for Friday. Hey, maybe this'll get settled before then!"

"Maybe. I...I guess I just needed to tell somebody and maybe get some inspiration for how to work around this. If I don't come up with a plan, you'll have to go home for awhile until we're up and running again."

"I can stick around if you need me to, Dave."

"Thanks, but there's not a whole lot anyone can do. This is my own personal hell right now."

"Well, in any case, Leesa and I are here through the week. We'll see you on Friday, or before then if you want to talk."

David smiled. He could always count on Ian when he needed a friend. "Thanks, man. Now I'm gonna call Rick and let him know, and then I'll contact the others."

"Hey, Tony's staying here at the same hotel. I'll give him the scoop."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." David hung up the phone and took a long drag on his coffee. He wasn't sure why he was so scared to tell his actors about this terrible turn of events. They were all gracious people. It was because he felt as if he were letting them down. In the history of Burned, at the start of every new season his actors and crew arrived with the knowledge that everything was ready. All they had to do was study their lines, get in character, and magic happened. No magic this season if the union had their way.

"Magnuson," Rick answered the phone. His clipped tone told David he was in the middle of something, but he answered because he saw David's name on the caller ID.

"Rick, we have a problem."

Friday came, and all the actors knew about the strike as the picket lines formed in front of various studios and locations around the Miami area. One camped out right in front of the Burned studios, directly under David's window. He watched them, people he worked with sometimes seven days a week for eighteen hours a day. In some ways, he knew them better than his own family. And this was how they paid him back for his fairness and respect: marching around on the sidewalk, airing their grievances, most of which were never an issue on their set. Everyone in the local union knew that a Burned gig was a plum deal. But they dropped their loyalties and stomped on them right under his nose, all for the sake of their union brothers and sisters. It hurt more than he could say.

The intercom on his desk buzzed, and David reluctantly tore himself away from the window to answer it with a lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, Jessica?"

"Ian Benton is here to see you, sir."

"Oh boy," he muttered to himself. "Okay, send him in." He sat in his comfortable executive chair and waited for Ian to saunter in. He never knew what to expect when Ian walked into the room, but at least one thing was for certain: for a few minutes, his mind would be off his problems.

Ian entered with a grin that quickly faded as he got a good look at David. "Hey Dave...man, you look like you haven't slept in a week!"

"Yeah, that's probably true. Have a seat." He waited until Ian settled in before continuing. "This strike is just tearing me up. I'm sorry..."

Ian flapped a hand in dismissal. "It's not your fault these guys decided to get stupid."

"They didn't give you any trouble when you came in, did they?" He sat forward and rested his forearms on the desk.

"Nah, they were cool. It's not me they have a beef with. It's the upper echelon, although if you ask me, they're barkin' up the wrong tree here. They need to harass some of those other studios."

David managed a smile. "No arguments there. So, what'd you wanna see me about?"

"I think I have a solution for you." Ian grinned and crossed an ankle over his other knee. "You might think it's crazy, but hear me out on this."

"I'm all ears, because right now I'd listen to anything."

"How about if we move production to another city? Or..." He leaned forward and rested his arms on the edge of the desk as if he were about to tell David a secret. "We move it to the west coast?"

"No, I don't want to shoot in Lala land. They don't have the right vibe there."

"Yeah, I know that. What I'm thinking is this. Rewrite a few scripts, or hey, maybe write some new ones, that involve Michael, Fi, Sam and Jesse going to the Pacific Northwest on a mission. I've got all that natural, untouched land up there, and there are still a few sets left from that movie I made. It's perfect. And you know how much fun it is to hang out in Oregon at my place." He leaned back, threw an arm over the back of his chair, and added, "Besides, you start blowing up stuff, and the locals will think there's some homegrown militia training going on. It'll be a riot."

"That is the most...creative...idea I've heard yet." Personally, David thought it was a crazy idea, but maybe it might work. "Tell you what, I'll talk to the writers and see what they can come up with. It's worth a shot, huh? Because right now I've got no other alternative." David paused. As whacked out as it was, the idea was taking root and giving him hope. "I'll let you know." He tapped his fingers on the desk top. "Leesa won't mind, will she?"

"She loves the solitude as much as I do, but she'd be willing to take a few weeks of general craziness for the team. I know, 'cause we talked about it at lunch today with Rick, Tony, and Jacqueline. They all think it's a great idea. Stella's not so sweet on it, but when I promised her the snow was just about gone, she said she'd think about it."

"And what if I didn't agree?" David raised an eyebrow.

Ian laughed. "We were gonna just start without ya, man!"

Any other man might have blanched at the declaration, but David knew Ian's sense of humor. It was so much like his own. He laughed, and it felt good. He hadn't had much to feel good about that week. "Thanks, Ian. That made my day."

"I hoped it would. But I'm serious about moving production to my place. The offer stands. Oh yeah, and think about this, the extra costs of pulling up stakes will be offset by the fact that I won't be charging you to shoot on my property."

David grinned, again appreciating his sense of humor. "You're a real stand up guy, Ian."

He leaned over the desk and shook David's hand. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got a script meeting to go to. We're gonna put our noggins together and come up with something just in case you decide not to throw your hat in the ring."

David's laugh was lighter as he patted his friend on the arm. "You can hold off on that meeting. I'll just make a few calls to my writers, and they'll have something ready in a week. I guarantee it."

"Sounds great. See you tonight at the party? It's still on, right?"

Grinning, David replied, "Yeah, we're still on. See you all at seven."

The mood at the kick-off party was rather somber, not to mention that the affair was a lot smaller than normal. His heart sank when he walked into the banquet room to find none of the crew milling about, but then, he should have expected that. All the cast members came with their spouses, at least. He was hoping some of the writers could attend, but they were working hard on Plan B. His arm tensed and Susan squeezed it.

"Relax, David. We're here to have fun and get things started on a better foot."

"We should have cancelled this whole thing and had a barbecue or something." The empty tables were discouraging. Of the ones that were occupied, someone took two of them, moved them so they touched, and everyone sat around it as if they were circling the wagons against the indian onslaught.

"And there he is, the man with the plan," Rick Magnuson declared with a grin.

"Actually, it was Ian's idea, but..."

"Is it a go?" Tony asked as he sat back in his chair. They all waited expectantly for David's answer.

"The writers are on board and they're busy right now coming up with new plot lines. I'm working on hiring crew, and hopefully in a couple of weeks we'll be ready to shoot in Oregon. There's a lot that needs to be done first, but yes, Burned will be shooting season seven."

"Our lucky number," Ian said and raised his glass. A cheer went up around the tables, and for the second time that day, David felt a sprig of hope come to life in his chest. The crew was the backbone of the operation. Without them, the most brilliant cast in the world couldn't read a phone book and get screen time. But there were other crews elsewhere who were willing to work, and it was heartening to know that his actors felt such a sense of loyalty to him, and to the show, that they would welcome moving production across the country. David and his wife sat at the table and caught up with everyone and their off-screen lives. It was like family getting together for Thanksgiving, and it gave his spirits a kick. By the time the evening ended, everyone was excited for shooting to begin.