More
Than It Doesn't
by
Danii
Summary: Insane little plot bunny that wouldn't go
away. Just read it.
XOVER
Disclaimer: I own none of them, even though I want them
all! Ah...
Distribution: Take it, please!!!
Feedback: A must!
And
now:
Autolycus
sighed, and stroked his tiny beard with one hand.
This
was going to be tricky.
True,
he was the King of Thieves, but for every amazing caper he pulled off, some
wise guy somewhere figured out a new way to make his life into more
trouble. But, he knew, that was what
came of being the best.
Not
that the gigantic diamond that was sitting in the small box before him wasn't a
payback for all the trouble. Hades, he
lived for this stuff; the work, and the pay.
And what gorgeous pay it was.
But
he couldn't dwell on that. He had to
get the jewel before he could really admire it because, as he always said, a
jewel in the pocket was worth...whatever Akbar the merchant was willing to
pay. And for this beauty, the greedy
little peddler would give him top dollar.
As soon as it was IN his pocket.
With
a twist of his chin, the self-proclaimed King of Thieves decided that the best
way to grab the diamond would be to replace it with a bag of sand just as he
pulled it away. So, watching the room
carefully just in case, Autolycus grabbed the bag of sand from his waist and
ever so gently plucked the diamond from it's place just as he put in the
bag. Then he waited.
Nothing.
No
moving sounds, no readying arrows, no guards stomping towards him with murder
in their hearts and peanuts for their brains.
Just the silence of the room and the singing in his heart at the cold
hard shiny weight in his hand.
"Haha!"
he exclaimed in joy at his success.
"The King of Thieves has claimed a new jewel for his
crown!"
And
that's when the grinding sound started.
"Aw
crap…"
*****
Robin
Hood, his band of merry men standing at the ready all throughout the
surrounding forest, watched the approaching caravan with a well-practiced eye
and a slight sense of worry.
Sure,
he had had scouts out the night before and all during the day to make sure that
nothing would go wrong. And of course,
he had personally checked the timing of the caravan. And, as always, all the weapons had been checked before the men
had taken their positions. But for some
reason, Robin couldn't help himself from feeling a tinge of anxiety as the
first wagon in line passed by the Wil.
"Anything
the problem, Robin?" asked Little John from behind him in a careful whisper as
he continued to glance around.
Robin
wished for the entire world that he could say 'yes' and have the whole thing
forgotten, but he had no concrete evidence that anything was going to happen so
couldn't. Besides, such a call would
undermine his leadership, which was something he did NOT need. It had taken too much work to mold the
peasants and woodsmen of Sherwood into a force for good for him to wreck it now
because of his nerves. His nerves that
were already a bit flaky from his last experience with Maid Marian which had
set his head ringing.
Sure,
he'd been a little bit too honest about the dress, but she didn't have to deck
him for it.
Or
send the guard after him.
"Ah,
love…" Robin whispered wistfully with a smile before returning his attention to
the caravan, which was just a second or two from being right where it should
be.
"Wait
for it…wait for it…" Robin cautioned himself and the others. Then, just as it was at just the right spot,
he gave a quick bird-like whistle to signal the others.
Then
he jumped out.
Alone.
Shocked
and amazed, Robin looked around to where the other men were supposed to, only
to find them tied to the very trees that had hidden them. Quickly, he turned around to find his own
very dear friend Little John being held back by several men, his mouth gagged
with an old rag.
Then he saw the rest of the guards…not to mention the
Sheriff. And only two words came to his
mind.
"Aw
crap…"
*****
"Percy…"
Andrew hissed from the back of the cart, "Percy!"
"Oh,
hush…" Sir Percy Blakenley answered quickly with just a hint of
disapproval. He did trust young Andrew,
but the man did have a habit of getting nervous rather easily, and while this
trait would not have normally been a problem for the noble Englishman, in this
particular situation, it might be deadly.
"But
Percy-"
"HUSH,
Monsieur Porie!" Percy said more
forcefully, using the name in hope of reminding his helper that they were
SUPPOSED to be a couple of French wine merchants. True, they were but minutes away from the 'Daydream', but he had
learned from experience that any plan, no matter how close to completion, could
be fuddled by one person's carelessness.
He hoped that for tonight, there would be no fuddling, and certainly
none by Andrew. He quite liked Andrew.
"Sorry,
Per-"
"Ah-ah-ah…"
"Désolé,
monsieur…" Andrew finished glumly.
The
leader smiled at his helper, then began urging the horses of the cart they were
on to go faster.
Just a little farther, Percy thought to himself, and the
Marquis and his family will be safe and sound.
Just as importantly, I'LL be safe and sound, not to mention young Sir
Ffoulkes. This night will be over, and
I will have another day or so to spend with Marguerite before I return to this
God-forsaken nest of vipers and cutthroats.
However, just as he got within a mile of the yacht which
would bring them back to their safe homes, Percy was cut off by several men on
horseback riding right in front of him.
Immediately, he pulled back the reins to stop the horses before they
collided with the riders. The armed
riders. The armed riders in uniforms
who were headed by a familiar black-clad figure.
Percy blanked for a moment, then felt the need to say
something about this turn of events. He
was thinking 'sink me', but then he said in a tired tone,
"Aw crap…"
*****
Rick O'Connel was doing reasonably well, or at least he
thought so.
He had a beautiful wife who loved him just as much as he
loved her, a gigantic house paid for with gold he'd earned with sweat and blood
if not time, and a wonderful blonde little boy who would smile at him in that
special way that made even his insides go to mush. And he never ever got mushy.
Ever.
Things were going pretty well for him, even considering
that at the moment, he was standing in the middle of a tomb that hadn't seen
human life in the last three thousand years.
Then again, he'd been in scarier places.
Like two inches from a rampaging mummy that wanted to kill
his then soon-to-be-wife.
And a foot away from thousands of man-eating scarabs.
Not to mention sitting in a plane, spinning in the middle
of a raging dust devil.
So, considering what he'd dealt with, it wasn't a horrible
thing to be sitting in the tomb as his wife dusted away the centuries of grim
and dirt from the hieroglyphics. Hell,
he'd done this hundreds of times. In
fact, he was actually getting a little bored as Evie read. And so, not wanting to get tired early on in
the dig, Rick found an empty and relatively clean spot and sat down with a
manly plop.
However, this plop turned into a rather unmanly-shriek as
the stone block he had sat upon sunk down in the ground accompanied by the
sound of metallic items moving.
Unfortunately for them, yet fortunately for Rick's pride, his wife
missed the whole thing. But he didn't
feel the need to tell her about it.
"Um, Evie?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I think we need to get out of her now, honey…"
Now, she turned from her work, frustrated, covered with
dirt, and yet completely beautiful. It
was lucky she did, because just as she moved, a large knife went flying out
from a crack in the wall, aimed at where she had stood moments ago. Immediately, Rick grabbed her hand and began
to run as he heard more metallic sounds.
"Aw crap…"
##
"Xander…"
"Xander….Xander…"
There was silence.
"XANDER!"
Immediately, Xander jumped up from his seat on the floor
next to his best friend, shocked out of the spell he had been in. However, the lingering magic still glistened
in his eyes as Willow put her hand on his shoulder to stabilize him.
"Jeez Xander…had me worried there for a moment." The witch
told him, "You were gone for, what, ten minutes…and the spell says that most
people only experience the effects for a minute or so…"
"Who says I'm most people?" replied the young man with a
sly smile, "As you well know, I am uniquely Xander…"
"Yeah, Xan…" Willow agreed with a silly grin at the person
who probably knew her best in all the world, "But still…"
"Still what?" Xander asked testily, "It was just a
harmless spell. Didn't actually do
anything, did it? I just got to see my
past lives…"
"Really?" the red-headed witch exclaimed, "It
worked!? That's so cool! What did you see!? What did you see!?"
In response, the dark-haired young man just gave her an
impish smile. "Some stuff…"
"What stuff!?" Willow begged desperately, "Come on! Did you have a really past life?"
"Lives…"
"Lives?" the young witch asked in wonder, "You mean you
saw more than one of them…"
"Yup…" Xander answered simply.
"Oh, that is just so…neat!" Willow exclaimed, nearly
bursting with excitement, "Who were you!?"
"Well," Xander began with a huge grin, "I started out as-"
However, the young man was interrupted by the sound of the
door opening quickly, followed by the stomping of a rather angry ex-Watcher
storekeeper.
Giles made his way in, then looked around the room with a
raptor gaze, taking in all the spell-casting equipment and the two young people
sitting on the floor. But before he
could begin his rant concerning spells, the danger of doing them, and the
necessity of telling him when they were going to be cast, Xander interrupted
him.
"Before you start yelling at us as I'm sure you're going
to, I just have one thing to say…"
"WHAT?!"
Xander looked to Willow.
"Aw crap."
The End.
