This is a collection of crack crossover drabbles I've written for various challenges:
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, neither do any of the shows/films involved and I make no profit from them save pleasure.
Die Hardest
Duncan came back with a gasp. He sat up, dusting off his kilt and noticed that his sporran had been pierced by a musketball.
"Whew, that was close." He said smiling, but that quickly dissipated as he viewed the carnage that surrounded him.
He sensed the approach of another Immortal and scanned the battlefield. There was a solitary figure picking his way through the corpses. Duncan laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. The figure drew closer and Duncan smiled as he recognised his friend.
"John McClane! Get your arse over here and give me a hand up."
Immortals and swords and gays oh my!
Grace knew that Will had hidden her Hanukah present somewhere. She tore the apartment up looking for it. Exasperated she looked under the bed. What she found there shocked her utterly.
She stood up, holding the long hard object in her hand.
"I told you never to look under there Grace." Will whined. Grace span round to find her best friend standing in the doorway. He stared at the offending object. "Well now you found my sword, I guess I'd better tell you everything. For starters, my name's not Will Truman and I'm not 34. Actually, it's closer to 334."
Weathered well
Jack and Methos ran under the bus shelter, out of the rain that was hammering on its plastic roof, although they were so wet it hardly made a difference. Jack examined his sodden coat forlornly.
"Aw, and wool takes forever to dry!" he bemoaned. Beside him, Methos snorted.
"You think? Try drying a sheepskin cloak!" He snarked back. There was a movement in the dark street beyond the orange puddle of light surrounding the bus stop.
"There!" Jack cried and they gave chase to the Weevil.
"Welcome to Cardiff in August." Methos muttered as he ran back into the rain.
Outfoxed
Duncan walked out of Sydney Fox's office building and paused to replace his sunglasses. He turned to give one final glance at the building, sighed and smiled. It had been fun, playing Blackmer, but it had simply been a useful cover to get the chalice. Now he was done with the alias and could return it to its rightful owner.
He walked back toward his car, still smiling. The legends about the chalice were all rubbish of course. He couldn't wait to give Gina and Robert the chalice they had drunk from at their first wedding on their next anniversary.
Stitched Up
Methos rubbed his eyes, but his view didn't change. He had known it was going to be one of those days. He should have stayed in bed, but what was the point of coming to Hawaii if you didn't leave the hotel?
He had read that 'the multiverse is full of little dimensionettes, playstreets of creation where creatures of the imagination can romp without being knocked down by serious actuality.' He couldn't remember who wrote it, maybe Hawking, but it seemed delightfully apposite as he watched what could only be described as a blue koala/terrier crossbreed decimated the beautiful beach.
A/N The quote is of course from Terry Pratchett's Pyramids