Hello, everybody! So I noticed they weren't that many Around The World In 80 days fics on here, and absolutely none with the Wright Bros. in them, so I came up with this story, in which Wilbur and Orville find out that Phileas Fogg had stolen their plans and get pretty upset, something I thought could've happened in the movie. This story was inspired more by the 2004 Disney movie starring Jackie Chan, than the book, though, but I hope you still enjoy the story.

Brotherly Love

Two brothers stood out in the desert.

One was tall and lean, his fair, shaggy hair falling over his narrow shoulders, framing his long, rough-hewn, weather-beaten face, from which a twisted lump of a nose protruded, giving one the impression it had been broken at least more than once.

The other was of shorter and average height, but dark and handsome, with his short, ebony hair, chiseled features, and tanned skin, which was sunburned from the early morning, yet still boiling sun hanging high above their heads.

"Man, it is hotter than an oven out here, Orville," the blond-haired one said, his accent thick with a smooth, laid-back drawl, taking off the hat he had on his head and wiping the perspiration trailing from his creased brow and down his face with a trembling hand.

"You're telling me, Wilbur," Orville said, fanning himself with a bandanna he had taken out of one of his pants pockets. "I'm roasting out here."

They had come to a town out in the middle of nowhere, riding a wagon pulled by a couple of two horses, with a sign on the side of it that read, Wright Brothers: Bicycles and Repairs. The two life-long siblings and friends had hopped down from the wagon in order to rest and stretch their legs when they had stumbled upon the much welcoming site of a small town, leading the horses behind them.

The town itself looked like something out of the old west.

There was a prison, pub, and even a saloon. Various other stores and businesses were dotted along either side of the dirt-filled streets they were walking down. People were hustling back and forth, adults either going to work or their kids to school, it being a weekday. Everywhere they looked, there were men walking around, dressed like tough-looking, real-life cowboys, and women wearing rumpled-up dresses stained by the dust stirred up by the hems bellowing up above their feet when they walked. Wilbur and Orville gazed around the town in awe, having never been this far out west before, both of the brothers taking in all of the new, unfamiliar sights and sounds with child-like wonder. Orville thought rough and rugged Wilbur would fit right in with this place.

Wilbur and Orville were walking past the saloon itself, seriously considering going in, when the newspaper boy ran up to him. "Extra, extra, read all about it!" he shouted, waving the paper in front of them. "Read all the latest news and gossip about Phileas Fogg, the first person to ever fly around the world in 80 days!"

"What news?" Wilbur asked, practically snatching the newspaper out of the boy's hand, scanning the paper with feverous intensity.

After a few minutes had passed, Wilbur stared down at the newspaper in disbelief, his eyes widening in horror. "Look, at this, Orville!" he demanded, shoving the paper in his brothers' face. "They stole them!"

Looking annoyed, Orville took the paper out of his brother's hands. "Stole what?" he asked, but as his eyes scrolled down the paper, it didn't take him long to see what Wilbur was talking about.

PHILEAS FOGG, FIRST PERSON TO TRAVEL AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS, USING WORLD'S FISRT EVER FLYING MACHINE!

Orville read the bold, glaring headline, his anger mounting. "You're right, Wilbur!" he exclaimed, crumpling up the newspaper in his fists, and tossed it to the ground, stomping it with his boot. "They stole our plans!"

Orville and Wilbur stared at each other.

"Why, those no-good-for-nothing, double-crossing, thieves!" Planting his fists on his hips, Wilbur turned away from his brother in disgust, spitting at the ground. "I knew it was a bad idea to show them those plans," he said, and rounded on his brother, shaking a scolding finger at him. "I tried to tell you it was a bad idea, but no, you wouldn't listen."

Orville placed his hands on either side of his head, moaning, and began to pace back and forth. "You said it would never get up in the air!" he shouted, and held his hands to either side of his head, beginning to pace back and forth.

Wilbur scowled at him. "Because it seemed like a crazy, hare-brained idea at the time, and I think deep down you knew that and didn't want to admit it," he said, and blew a raspberry, sticking his tongue out at him.

This was the last straw for Orville, who leapt at his brother, sending him flying to the ground.

The two brothers tasseled in the dirt, exchanging punches, and tugging on one another's clothes and pulling at each other's hair.

A woman walked by them, and stopped to watch the fight, staring down at the two brothers. "What brotherly love," the woman said, and walked off, shaking her head.

"All right, boys, break it up!"

At the sound of the new voice, Orville and Wilbur actually stopped fighting long enough to look up at the new stranger. The short and stocky bearded man approaching them must've been the sheriff, judging by the badge on his vest. "I would hate to haul you two off to jail on your first day in town."

Wilbur was the first to his feet, dusting off his pants, and eyed the man with suspicion. "Who are you?" he asked, narrowing his questioning eyebrows at him.

The man tilted his hat toward them. "I'm Sherriff Lewis, and I run this here town," he said, and hooked his thumbs underneath his vest, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. "If catch you two lads causing any trouble, it's off to the hangman's noose with you." He ran a finger across his neck, and walked off, leaving Orville and Wilbur to ponder his threat.

They didn't have to muse on Lewis' ominous warning for long.

"I'm sorry, Wilbur," Orville said, the first one to apologize, and held his out for Wilbur to shake. "Truce?"

Wilbur nodded, much to Orville's relief. "Truce," he said, and clasped his brother's hands in his with a firm handshake. "We need to be more focused on taking out our anger on Phileas than on each other."

"On that we can agree on," Orville said, and together the two brothers strolled into the saloon, their brief conflict already forgotten.

The End