Title: Ham and Cheese

Author: DOKChairman

Time: No particular time frame. Assume everything that has happened up to the second season is fair game.

Disclaimer: I do not own Alias. If you really believe I own Alias, then I have some beach front property to sell you in Utah. No really, I do. Just give me a call at 1-800-333-SUCKER and we'll see about setting you up. Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by whoever's reading this, you know who you are, J. J. Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, and ABC (Disney's front for their attempt at world domination) own Alias.


A/N: Well, the response for this story surprised me to say the least. What the hell is wrong with you people!? How can you possibly like this trash? I warn you that this story has absolutely no plot, will constantly become nonsensical, and may even damage brain cells if you people insist on reading it. Anyway, if my insulting you hasn't turned you off, then you're in for a real treat. More crap is waiting for you down below.


A/N: Now I must address certain issues. I have two close friends who are avid 49'er fans, and nothing has given me more satisfaction than to rub in their faces that the Niners lost. I am a very mean, and vindictive person :) Although I must say that I feel for Mariucci; he got a raw deal. Its not his fault that Jeff Garcia is a pansy. Not every quarterback can be Joe Montana. Anyway, I hope the Raiders do go all the way (assuming they get past the Titans), but I worry that the Eagles or the Bucs's defense will be too much for them.

Secondly, if you thought that the last chapter was an interesting way of looking at Alias, you ain't seen nothing yet. There are only four things that basically occupy a guy's mind: food, sex, cars, and sports. Expect all four of these to make regular appearances. If this is not floatin yer boat, I suggest you find a different ocean.

And thirdly, I really feel for you French-Canadian Chick. Quick question: is that the proper term for describing someone from Quebec? Quebecers? No wonder I don't like them. I originally thought that nothing could possibly be worse than being a French-Canadian, but now I know that being a French-Canadian from Quebec is the worst thing imaginable. *Shudder* Be forewarned, bashing will be swift and brutal. Eh?



Chapter 2: Free Quebec!!!


Vaughn casually shifted his attention away from the four men gesturing wildly with their automatic assault rifles, and commented to Weiss, who was just finishing off his sandwich, that perhaps they should do something.

In return, Weiss looked put out. "What? I'm eating here! You can't expect me to just drop everything every time some crazies try to rob a deli, can you?"

Vaughn looked chastised and apologized to Weiss. "You're right of course. I don't know what I was thinking."

Weiss nodded his head in understanding. "It's ok. You got a little carried away. It happens to the best of us."

Weiss brought a napkin up to his mouth and carefully wiped a little mayo off his chin. He then flashed Vaughn a wide grin and said, "Hey, you wanna hear another joke? This one is a lot better, I promise."

Vaughn shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, its not like I got anything better to do."

Weiss rubs his hands together eagerly and starts, "Ok. There are three female spies waiting to be executed. A redhead, a brunette, and a blonde. It was an old fashioned firing squad. Now, naturally these women didn't want to die so they came up with a plan.

The redhead says, 'I have an idea. Follow my lead.'

So, as they are lining the redhead up against the wall, a man puts on her blindfold and asks her if she has any last words.

'No,' she replies.

The man says, 'Ok. Ready...aim...'

The redhead yells out, 'Tornado!'

The gunmen all turn around, and the redhead escapes."

At this point, Vaughn interrupts. "Hold on. I think I've heard this one before. This is the one that ends with the blonde yelling Fire, doesn't it?"

Weiss glares at Vaughn sourly. "Damnit! Why do you have to ruin everything? You're the one that told me to tell you another joke."

"No. You're the one who wanted to tell another joke. I was just humoring you."

Weiss glared at Vaughn. He asked huffily, "Well, if you don't want me to tell you another joke, then what the hell do you want to do?" Weiss paused to check his watch. "It's still another 20 minutes before we have to be back at the office."

Vaughn's response was drowned out by the sound of a gun firing. Both Vaughn and Weiss turned to see one of the four men with his gun pointing up towards the ceiling. Both Vaughn and Weiss looked up and noticed four smoking bullet holes.

They then pulled their eyes away from the ceiling to the four men pointing guns at them. One of the men stepped forward, away from the rest, and said angrily, "Excuse me! Do you mind? We are trying to make a bold political statement here and you're talking is distracting us." By the time the man finished, his voice had become whiny and high pitched.

Vaughn stood up out of his seat and splayed his hands at his sides to show he was unarmed. Which of course wasn't the truth, but what they didn't know, could hurt them. He spoke as calmly as he could, "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to stop you from doing whatever you're doing. I'm sure its very important."

The lead man nodded his head vigorously. "Oh it is. It is. We are tired of living under the oppression of an English-only society. We wish to free Quebec from its chains of slavery to the North American majority."

The man turned back to face his companions and all four pumped their hands into the air. They started chanting, "Free Quebec!"

Vaughn heard Weiss groan. Vaughn turned his head to check out Weiss. He was leaning back in his chair against the wall of the deli and there was a relaxed air about him. His face was filled with disgust. "Oh hell. This is just what I need. Freakin' Canadians."

Vaughn grinned. "They're not that bad. I mean, they do have great hockey teams."

Weiss had to give him that. "I guess, but honestly, what is this crap? Free Quebec? I didn't even know Quebec needed freeing."

One of the armed men heard Weiss and interrupted, "Oh yes, yes. Quebec must be free. There are over 7 million French speaking people in Quebec and yet we are still forced to interact in an English speaking society. We must be free!!"

Vaughn listened in quiet contemplation. When the insane Canadian was finished, Vaughn spoke in a sympathetic voice, "I understand where you're coming from. I used to live in France..."

The four men looked at Vaughn in awe. One man gasped and said, "You lived in the mother country? We are honored to be in your presence."

Vaughn's face reddened in embarrassment. "Uh...thanks, I think."

Vaughn heard Weiss snicker next to him and he sent a quick glare in his direction. Weiss raised his voice and spoke to the four men, "Hey, you guys wanna hear a joke?"

The four men shrugged their shoulders. Weiss took that as an acknowledgment and eagerly began. "That's what I like to hear. Here goes. What does a urine sample and Canadian beer have in common?"

Weiss heard Vaughn groan, along with several of the other customers, but ignored them. So what if he had told this joke before? Meanwhile, the four Canadians were having an impromptu huddle. It seemed they were talking it over. Finally, after about twenty seconds, the leader stepped forward, shaking his head. "We don't know. We're stumped."

Weiss said loudly, "The taste!" He then laughed heartily.

The four Canadians started to laugh, but then suddenly stopped and all four yelled indignantly, "Hey!"

Weiss laughed even harder. While he was still laughing he said, "Y-y-you want to kn-know the correct way to spell Canada? C-eh N-eh D-eh." Weiss could not stop laughing, and the Canadians could not stop scowling.

The leader of the four stepped towards Weiss and Vaughn and started making threatening gestures with his gun. Vaughn discreetly kicked Weiss in his shin and shot him a warning look. He hissed quietly, "Would you shut up?"

Weiss wiped the tears off his cheek and apologized, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Geeez, I didn't think Canadians were so touchy."

The leader objected strenuously, "We are not Canadians! We are Quebecers!"

Vaughn nodded his head in a patronizing way. "Ok, got it, you're Quebecers. But isn't Quebec part of Canada?"

The leader frowned and acknowledged Vaughn's words and said reluctantly, "Unfortunately yes, but not by choice I assure you. That is why we are here. To fight for Quebecen independence."

"I see. So you guys are like the Basque separatists in Spain, right?"

The leader looked confused. "The Basque who? Never heard of them."

"You know, those guys who want independence for provinces in Spain and France." Vaughn explained.

The leader gasped. "Try to take land away from the motherland? Never!" He then got angry. "How can you accuse us of such a heinous crime. To associate us with such...bad people is wrong. They probably speak English anyway."

Vaughn asked curiously, "What do you have against the English language?"

The man seemed to be searching his mind for a suitable answer. Eventually, he found one. "It is so uneducated. It has been diluted and infected by the vagrancies of different cultures. It's no longer the language it used to be. Whereas the French language is pure and has stayed consistent for the last 400 years. French does not steal from other languages."

Weiss snorted and said sarcastically, "Oh sure, cause French sounds nothing like German, Spanish, or Italian."

The leader frowned. "Yeah...well...at least D'oh isn't an actual word in our language. So there!" The man finished with a satisfied smile on his face.

Weiss snorted and was going to continue arguing, but Vaughn put a hand up to shut him up. "Let's agree to disagree, ok guys?"

Both the leader of the free Quebecers and Weiss nodded their heads reluctantly. Vaughn smiled brightly.

Vaughn started to feel a tickle in the back of his throat. "Hey guys, I'm gonna get a drink. Want anything?"

Everybody shook their head negatively. Vaughn shrugged his shoulders and moved up to the deli counter. When he saw the old, blind, Chinese man behind the counter he said kindly, "Hey, Mr. Fan (pronounced fawn), how about another Coke?"

Han (pronounced hawn) Fan mumbled something unintelligibly under his breath and fished a Coke bottle out of the refrigerator unit. He placed it on the counter. He moved over to the register and rung up the bottle, asking as he did with a hopeful smile on his face. "Would you like mayo with that?"

Vaughn just looked at the man strangely. "Uh...no. I'll just take the Coke."

The old man's smile faded. He again mumbled something that Vaughn couldn't hear or understand, and accepted Vaughn's money for the cool refreshing drink. America's Number 1 soft drink.

Vaughn went back to his seat and sat down contently. That Coke had really hit the spot. It was too bad the deli didn't sell beers.

Weiss, meanwhile, was eyeing one of the female customers on the other side of the deli. Weiss motioned with his head to get Vaughn's attention and then pointed out the woman he was checking out. "Check out the brunette over there. You think she'd be interested in going out with me?"

Vaughn studied the other girl and admired Weiss's taste. She was a very beautiful woman, but, unfortunately for Vaughn, she was no Sydney. Ah, Sydney, Vaughn sighed dreamily. Now that was a woman.

Vaughn shook himself out of his self imposed daze to find Weiss looking at him pointedly. Vaughn focused back on the matter at hand. "I don't know. Is she drunk?" Vaughn asked dryly.

Weiss hit Vaughn in the arm. "Hey, man, that was harsh! I'll have you know that I can pick up women perfectly fine on my own. The alcohol just helps, that's all."

Vaughn nodded his head mockingly. "Of course. Why don't you go ask her. Come on Don Juan."

"I would, but there are some psycho Canucks in the way. She's hot but she's not worth dying for."

Vaughn shrugged his shoulders. The woman in question suddenly bent over, picking up something off the floor, and both men got a great view of her very nicely shaped ass. Weiss raised his eyebrows and perked up. "On the other hand, I can think of worse reasons to die."

The leader of the Quebecers was fed up with both Vaughn and Weiss talking and so yelled, "Shut up, eh! Stop talking or else I'll start killing people! You're stressing me out, eh."

A deathly calm settled over the deli, and nobody talked for almost ten minutes until Weiss, who was never known for his patience or keeping his mouth closed, said hopefully, "Hey, anyone wanna hear a joke?"



P.S. How many of you secretly wish to see Jack in a clown suit? Come on, be honest. You know you want to. Well, it's your lucky... (insert proper measurement of time here)... because when Jack arrives in the next few chapters he will be wearing an outfit that is sure to ensure that hilarity ensues. I'm sure you're also wondering when Miss Sydney, The Incredibly Gorgeous, Ass Kicking Spy Who Never Gets Freaking Jet Lag!, Bristow arrives. She will appear sometime in the next two chapters. When she does, you can rest assured that she will be wearing an extremely hot and sexy, but ultimately ridiculous and gratuitously revealing, outfit.

P.S. It's good to hear from you again Jada Lynne. I was starting to think you had abandoned me since you haven't reviewed Angel Dark in a while. What happened?

P.S. Now if you'll excuse me, I must once again tell my friend that no, I do not want to see how many beers I can drink before I pass out. I mean Jesus, you can only do that so many times in one week before it begins to lose its appeal. You know what I mean?