A/N: Hey guys. Bet you didn't think you'd hear from hear again. Well, so much for that.

Anyway, I've gotten a pretty positive response to my first three crossovers (though more reviews would be nice), so I've decided to write a couple more drabbles for you. I may also expand a couple into full-length stories, as there seem to be very few Leviathan crossovers out there. And the ones on this site are...lacking, in my experience. And some of the ideas I came up with are really just too good to waste. Not sure when I'll start posting them, but keep your eyes open for them.

Also, I'm open to suggestions for series to use. If you've got one you want me to do, write it in a review. Or PM, if you don't want to write a review for some reason.

Also, since I've run out of steampunk books to work with, starting this chapter these crossovers will include some other series. Hope you guys don't mind.

Anyway, without further ado, here's some more crossovers.

Crossover Drabbles: Leviathan

Chapter 2

Crossover Number 1:

His Dark Materials, By Philip Pullman

"Pretty, ain't it?"

"Aye."

Deryn kept her eyes on the sky, more specifically the brilliant trails of the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights, which were trailing above her. Her hands clutched the wicker basket she was leaning against hard enough for them to turn white. She focused even harder on the floating, glowing colors and not at the hot air balloons gas bag above her, as if the mere glance of her eyes would ignite it. That, or she'd spew over the side of the gondola and start crying like some daft lass.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Aye."

Truthfully, Deryn had every reason to be worried. This wasn't any ordinary hot air balloon; through some cruel twist of fate, the one vehicle that was going to the place to get her out of…wherever she'd ended up was the very balloon she'd lost her Da to. How it got here, she didn't know.

"You're lying."

"Oh?" Deryn glanced over at the person questioning her, the same one who'd suggested she board this living nightmare; Lyra Silvertounge of Oxford (as she'd introduced herself).

"Yes. I used to be a good liar myself, you know."

"Explains your last name, that's for barking sure."

This was the standard format for her conversations with Lyra. It wasn't that she didn't like the girl (though it certainly didn't help that she looked down on Deryn's clothing choices, which were still boyish even now). It was her entire world that Deryn didn't like. It felt…wrong. No Darwinists, a church that practically ruled the world…

And daemons. Those blistering daemons!

Deryn still couldn't wrap her mind around them. Lyra had tried to explain it to her before, something about how Deryn's own was inside her or whatever. Like a soul or some other yakkum like that.

But all Deryn had been able to think, all she still thought, was that these things were talking animals that were able to reason. A major break in Darwinist law, to say the very least.

She knew it wasn't a break in this world, which had no Darwinists, but it still seemed wrong.

And she didn't even want to think about the "armored bears" Lyra had mentioned…

"You aren't feeling fine, are you?" Lyra noted calmly. Deryn kept her eyes forward and her hands on the basket.

"No, I'm not barking fine. You happy?" she spat. Lyra pulled back slightly, surprised.

Good.

Deryn went back to staring at the sky.

ThesoonerIgetoutofthisbarkingmadhouseofaplace, she thought, thebetter.

Crossover Number 2

Uglies By Scott Westerfeld (Yes, the Same One Who Wrote Leviathan in the First Place)

"That the best you got?" Deryn howled, slamming her foot down on the back of her hoverboard to lift it over a rock in her path. The board reacted smartly, soaring off the outcrop like it was ramp and propelling Deryn a good twenty feet down the river she soared above. "I thought this was going to be a barking challenge!"

She laughed in glee, the sheer joy of flight for a moment making her forget that she was running from someone. Or something; whatever was on her tail had obviously been human at one point, but certainly wasn't now.

It had been a girl, Deryn figured, like her. But now there was so much Clanker material inside its flesh that it was hard to tell.

Certainly on the outside, she looked normal. But David had told her the truth behind these...Specials. What they were. Fabs of the highest level of illegality.

Deryn glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, at the very edge of her vision, she could see her pursuer. She was catching up slowly, her board riding on both magnets and fans to Deryn's magnets only.

That was good. She needed to catch up. Couldn't make it look like she was going to get away, or the plan would never work.

But the girl following her obviously didn't know this part of the river. She kept slowing down to avoid the rocks Deryn simply jumped. Even if Deryn slowed down below a believable speed, she still wouldn't have caught up to her. And then the Smokies wouldn't catch the Special following her.

This wasn't going to work. She'd have to try something different.

It was time to go on the offensive.

With a slight pang of regret, Deryn leaned back on her board and slowed down, coming to an almost standstill. She spun around to face her pursuer, cupped her hands and shouted;

"Oi, Cutter! Slice this!"

The moment she finished, she kicked her board around and accelerated straight towards the girl behind her.

The distance closed quickly. Deryn's heart pounded in her chest. A hundred feet. Eighty. Fifty. Ten.

Deryn's hand closed around the handle of her recently acquired combat knife. The rubber felt good under her palm, fitting better than the handle of her rigging knife.

The Special closed. Deryn's eyes narrowed. In a single motion, she slid her knife from it's sheath and pointed the blade away from her, cutting edge out in front.

She barley had time to get a better grip on it before she and her pursuer crossed.

She had just enough time to glance at her targets face; black eyes and strange moving facial tattoos.

A face she knew from the picture David had shown her. TallyYoungblood. David's girlfriend.

Contact with the Special came seconds after she recognized the Special, and it almost ripped the knife from Deryn's hand. But she held on, and managed to say on her board to boot.

Tally wasn't so lucky. As Deryn slewed to a halt, she could see her go tumbling off her board, crashing through the under-growth and snow around the river.

For a moment, Deryn thought she'd lost her, and this whole thing had been for nothing.

Then she noticed the blood trail.

Deryn grinned evilly and kicked her board into motion. It was time to finish the job.

Crossover Number 3

Percy Jackson and the Olympians By Rick Riordan

In her life, Deryn Sharp had done some crazy things.

She'd survived being pushed out of a flaming balloon.

She'd pretended to be a boy for several months and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross while doing it.

She'd brought around the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and (unintentionally) Austria-Hungary.

And she'd help turn the son of one of the greatest Clanker leaders into a right proper Darwinist.

But none of those were as crazy as the current situation she found herself in;

Fighting an Americanized, half-human version of herself, with a knife, while around her the world practically tore itself apart, in an attempt to capture an American boy named Percy Jackson.

Certainly there were some differences; the girl Deryn was currently fighting had the rather peculiar name of Annabeth Chase, and she was a demi-god, whatever that meant. She was also a little taller than Deryn, and more tan, and with grey eyes.

She was also barking good with a knife. The bronze-colored blade of which was now approaching Deryn's face.

Deryn dropped to a crouch, barley dodging the girl's jab. Had her hair been longer than she normally kept it, the knife would have sliced it clean off.

Her legs screamed in pain, and her lungs burned from all the constant fighting she'd been doing recently. She hadn't trained for this. She was an airman, not a front line solider.

But so far she'd managed to hold her own. She hadn't landed a blow on the girl, but she hadn't landed one on Deryn neither.

Annabeth swore in some language Deryn didn't know and jumped back, putting a yard or so of space between them.

"Snarf fab clart!" Deryn howled back, taking the time offered by the unexpected break to catch her breath.

This wasn't going to work, she realized. This girl was too good with a knife. Facing her with one was like stopping a phosphorous shell with a hydrogen breather; a recipe for disaster.

Deryn need to change things up.

Across the gap between them, Annabeth chuckled to herself.

"You aren't half bad...for a mortal." She said, smiling slightly. Deryn returned it.

"And you aren't bad...for a clart-soaked bum rag." As she replied, she let her grip on her knife go loose.
Silence filled the space between them again, one of those strange pauses that come from two fighters of equal strength and skill facing off. Deryn had seen it happen between Count Volger and Dr. Barlow when they'd sparred verbally. It made sense for the same thing to happen in actual combat.

"Look, I'm sure you have a lot of stuff to do right now," Annabeth continued, looking back over her shoulder. Deryn followed her look to the hill behind them, where a rather attractive boy about Deryn's age was fighting off a horde of what could only be described as serpentinesques. Jackson. Her target.

"So how about we call this a draw and go our own ways?"

Deryn pretended to think, for a full minute.

"No barking way!" She howled. Even as she was shouting, she was throwing herself into a forward charge, knife tossed to her side.

Annabeth didn't see I coming. She barely had time to look surprised before Deryn drove her fist deep into the soft spot just under her perky diddies. Another thing that separated them; Annabeth's chest looked like she was carrying a pair of grenades in her shirt.

The girl dropped like a stone, winded. Deryn glanced at her, then up at the battle continuing on the hill behind their battlefield, then back at her. It didn't look like Annabeth would be getting up soon.

She ignored the recovering girl and walked towards the fight, retrieving her knife as she did so.

She had an American boy to capture.