Author's Note: There really isn't a plot to this. And I know it's weird but what the hell, I'm having fun with it, even if I don't know what's going on. But thank you to Adacadus for inspiring me with this chapter; cross-overs! How could I have forgotten the dreaded cross-over?

-oO0Oo-

"Pssst!"

No reaction. The voice tried again.

"Pssst!"

Still nothing.

"Annistalacia, you dozy cow!"

Sarah finally looked up, a huge grin on her face. "Michelle? Is that you?"

"A-hem."

Sarah sighed. "Sorry. Mishakala Creampuff? Is that you?"

A young girl wearing far too much leather to be healthy at her age stepped out of a shadowy corner of the cell. "Yes, it is I, Mishakala Creampuff," the girl announced proudly. "I have come to save you, Annistalacia Moonshine, from the terrible confinement of the Patrician's cells--"

Claire snorted. "Where does she think she is? Middle Earth?"

Michelle a.k.a. Mishakala glared at her. "No," she said peevishly. "But I'm a hero; I've got to talk like this."

"Not on Discworld you don't."

"Yuh-huh."

"Nuh-uh. On Discworld every talks normally--"

"—except for Havvie--" added Sarah.

"—well yeah, except for him. Heroes talk like we do."

Michelle sniffed. "Yeah, well, I think it adds drama. Anyway, I'm here to save you from this terrible fate."

"Lucky us."

Michelle ignored her and turned to Sarah. "Okay, so where's the key?"

"What?"

"The key." Michelle glanced around the room. "So is it hanging on a nail across the room from the cell in plain sight so you despair? Or is it on an overly-large key-ring that I have to steal from a slumbering guard?"

"Neither. It's upstairs; Havvie's got it," said Sarah.

"Oh." Michelle frowned. Suddenly her face brightened. "I could go upstairs and seduce it away from him--"

"No!"

"Okay, okay," grumbled Michelle. "Jeez, Sarah, I know you're possessive of Vetinari and all, but there's no need to bite my head off--"

"Wait a second; I'm sorry for interrupting," said Claire sounding anything but. "But who the hell are you?"

"Claire, this is Michelle, my friend from school," explained Sarah with a sigh. "Michelle, this is Claire, a sarcastic bitch and fellow Mary-Sue."

Michelle smirked. "That's pretty obvious. Anyway, what are you doing stuck in a cell, Sarah? Last I heard you were heading to the Watch-house to reveal your Secret Identity to Carrot."

"I got arrested. Apparently Havvie has twigged about the Mary-Sue thing and we lose our powers if we're identified."

"Damn," Michelle frowned again. "Well, I can't get the cells open without a key, and as a barbarian heroine I'm naturally mistrustful of magic so that won't work so…um…Oh, I've got an idea!"

"Aw, is it lonely?" said Claire.

"Shut up." Michelle pulled a battered notebook and pencil out of a small bag around her neck. "Now let's see; 'Mishakala gasped as a bright light suddenly filled the cell area; a young boy fell through a vortex-thing on the ceiling like those dimensional portal wotsits on Angel. Mishakala ran up to him and gasped again as she saw the lightening shaped scar on the boy's forehead. "Ohmigod, Harry Potter!"'"

"A Harry Potter-Discworld cross-over? How original."

Sarah frowned. "Harry Potter? But, Michelle, you haven't read the books and you've only seen the movies once; how can you write a Harry Potter fic?"

"Easy; fit boy, magic powers, always wins," Michelle said with a grin. "Besides, everyone knows that watching a movie of a book is just as good as reading the book anyway."

In her cell Claire swore under her breath and started banging her head against a wall.

"Yeah, but you said that about Lord of the Rings," said Sarah uneasily. "And you almost got lynched after you wrote that fic about Legolas becoming a surfer who took you to your prom."

"Do you want to get rescued or what?" snapped Michelle. She shut the notebook and put it back in the bag. "Now, one…two…three…"

She gasped as a bright light suddenly filled the cell area; a young boy fell through a vortex-thing on the ceiling like those dimensional portal wotsits on Angel. She ran up to him and gasped again as she saw the lightening shaped scar on the boy's forehead.

"Ohmigod, Harry Potter!"

"I can't believe I'm stuck with you two morons…" Claire grumbled.

"Shut up." Michelle reached out a hand to the boy. "Are you okay?"

As Harry looked up, his tetchy expression was replaced with one of rapturous adoration. "You---you're so beautiful!"

Michelle nodded demurely. "I know, Harry."

"I must know your name at once so I can proclaim my love for you properly!"

Claire snorted. "Harry Potter wouldn't say something like that; who the hell is she trying to write him as?"

Sarah sighed. "Damned if I know; she's probably been watching Titanic again."

"My name is Mishakala Creampuff."

"Mishakala…" Harry sighed and clutched his hands to what would've been, if it were not for a few chance chromosomes, his bosom. "What a beautiful and totally original name. Oh, Mishakala, how I adore you!"

"I know, Harry; I know."

"Is there anything I can do for you, my love?"

Michelle smiled. "Yes, Harrykins. My friends are trapped in these cells here; could you, y'know, magic them out or something?"

"Of course, light of my life, right away." He pulled his wand then stopped, an uncertain look on his face. "…except…um…except that I don't seem to remember any spells…er…"

"Huh?"

Claire burst out laughing. "You thought you could write a wizard without learning any of his spells first," she crowed. "Harry Potter characters need actual spell-words to work magic; you can't just have him point the wand!"

"But that's how Discworld characters do it--"

"Yeah, but he isn't a Discworld character."

"Oh crap."

Harry looked at Michelle with a shocked expression. "Swearing is naughty," he said reproachfully.

"Shut up, Harry," Michelle snapped. "Oh! I've got a new idea!" She pulled out the notebook again and started scribbling.

"Oh gods, we're doomed," moaned Claire. "Let me guess; you're summoning Doctor Who instead? Or have you decided to go for Legolas this time? Don't you think the poor thing's suffered enough at your demented hands?" She shrugged at the inquiring look Sarah directed her way. "I read the surfer story."

Suddenly the vortex started up again. This time though a young blonde woman fell through the portal. She hit the floor with a thud, then quickly picked herself up and gave the room a disdainful look. "What's going on?" she asked in a irritable voice.

Michelle grinned and gestured to the blonde. "Ladies, I give you…Buffy the Vampire Slayer!"

Sarah nodded slowly. "…oh, so that explains some of Harry's dialogue. You been watching Season Two?"

Buffy gave the two cell-mates a disgusted look and grimaced. "Did you bring me here to save you or something?" she asked nastily. "I don't have time for this; I'm the Slayer! I don't have time for saving people. People who need rescuing are weak."

Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "…Season seven…" she choked out before fainting with fear.

-oO0Oo-

Vetinari coughed nervously as he reached for his trousers. "Well…um…back to work, I guess, Drumknott."

"If you say so, sir," said Drumknott with a sigh. He turned to Vetinari and gave him a seductive look. "You know, you don't have another meeting for twenty minutes…" he purred.

Vetinari gave him a panicked look and quickly pulled his trousers on. "Oh good, that gives me twenty minutes to prepare then," he said hurriedly. "Now if you would be so kind as to get off my desk please."

Drumknott laughed and stretched. "Do you really want me to get off, sir? Because I'd rather you joined me on here instead," he patted an empty space next to him. "It'll help relax you for your meeting."

"I don't think so."

"I insist."

Vetinari gave him an exasperated look. "I said--" he snapped. Suddenly his expression and tone softened. "—yes, Rufus." He gave the secretary a shy smile. "How can I resist your charms?"

"Oh, Havelock," sighed Drumknott happily, holding out his arms as Vetinari stepped towards him. Vetinari unbuttoned his trousers again and let them fall to the floor as he bent down to kiss Drumknott. All of a sudden he stopped and his eyes narrowed.

"Marty Stu," he hissed.

-oO0Oo-

"So I said to them, 'I'm the Chosen One, the only Slayer'," said Buffy. "I mean, yeah, there's Faith but she went evil and stuff so she doesn't count, even if she claims she's reformed and she saved Angel." She paused and gave Harry a quick once-over. "You know you could be pretty hot if you stopped growing, aged about twenty years, worked out, stopped eating, killed your hair follicles with bleach and became a vampire."

Harry gave her a puzzled look. "…er…thanks?"

Buffy nodded. "You're welcome. Of course you'd have to follow me around like a little puppy-dog and cave in to my every demand for a couple of years before I'd even look at you. Y'know, because I'm the Slayer and obviously much better than you."

"Oh." He laughed nervously and tried to edge away slowly. "Lucky me."

"Sarah? Sarah?" Michelle gave Claire a panicked look. "She's not waking up!"

Claire gave them both a disinterested look. "Yeah, looks like."

Michelle waved her hands frantically. "What if she never wakes up? She's got my Girls Aloud cd!"

Claire shrugged. "You could try throwing a glass of water in her face."

"Great idea. Do you have one?"

"No," Claire grinned. "But I do have a bucket I've been peeing into."

Michelle grimaced. "Ewww, gross!"

Claire laughed. "Why don't you just get Girl Wonder over there to kick the cell door in? Then you can check on Sarah properly."

Buffy glared at her. "That would be beneath me."

"Well, aren't you useful?"

Michelle walked over to Buffy and gave her a pleading look. "Please, Buffy, can't you remember back to the earlier seasons when you were nice and a decent human being who would help people?"

"I don't have to anything like that anymore," said Buffy disdainfully. "I died for you lot, my work is done."

Michelle sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have watched Get It Done before trying this." She pulled out the notebook again. 'Suddenly a door opened behind Harry and Buffy. They went home.' She sighed again as the two badly-written cross-over characters went back to their respective 'verses. "Oh well, I tried."

-oO0Oo-

Vetinari slammed a hand down on a section of his desk and grabbed a knife out the drawer that silently slid out in response. With one hand he pulled on pseudo-Drumknott's hair, forcing his head back, and held the knife to the young man's throat, "Where is my secretary?" he asked calmly.

"I—er—what makes you think I'm not Drumknott?"

Vetinari gave him a mirthless smile. "Having gay sex with me? Sending rude clackses to Margolotta? The terrible misfiling? He would never act that way, even under the influence of a Mary-Sue he would issue some form of protest, especially about the filing. Unfortunately your malign influence prevented me from realising it until now. So I repeat my question; where is my secretary?"

"Sec-second floor, backstairs broom closet, behind the pile of mops."

"Ah. And what is your name, young man?"

Pseudo-Drumknott looked up into those cold blue eyes and decided not to push his luck. "Steve. Steve Finchley."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Finchley." The knife withdrew and Steve began to breathe again. "Get dressed."

He nodded hurriedly. "Yes sir." Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Vetinari quickly pull on his own clothing and sit back down in his chair.

"So, Mr Finchley, would you care to explain?"

Steve cringed. "Not really, sir."

"Oh but I insist."

Steve adjusted the last of his clothes and gave Vetinari an apologetic look. I only wanted to meet you, my lord. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Really."

"Yeah, it's just…well, I know it's traditional to assume the identity of an original character but I've never been very good at thinking up stuff like that so I thought it'd be easier if I just kidnapped a minor character and assumed his identity instead. I really only meant to meet you; all this other stuff came as a surprise really." Steve bit his lip nervously. "I think what must have happened is another Mary-Sue tried to engineer a slash encounter between you and Drumknott, and as I was assuming Drumknott's identity at the time…"

"…You were forced to comply with her demands on Drumknott's character?" Steve nodded and Vetinari sighed. "How long since you kidnapped Drumknott?"

"About a week, sir."

"I see." Vetinari reached across the desk to the speaking tube to alert the Palace guard of his guest's presence. Suddenly he paused and he shot Steve a puzzled look. "Hang on, what do you mean by 'minor character'?"