A/N - Thank you for reviewing! Yay, my story is loved!
La Pamplemousse - Yes, I do quite a good job of recreating the 98 movie, don't I? Muahahahaha! I even got the collapsing into the chair! Not to . . . uh . . . bring back horrible memories of that movie or anything ::eye twitches:: I promise Valjean will not smack Cosette.
Winter-Lady - Glad you appreciate my author's note. My mom was walking by as I typed "biche," and she got a little worried about me. So, I typed the author's note to make her stop staring.
Thanks so much to the other reviewers. Sorry about the name switch out. I /do/ know Valjean's Fauchelevant name, but I wrote that chapter while doing my biology homework. (I've changed it.)
Disclaimer- If I could have any of this, I would take it. Okay, I'd just take the DeLorean. But I don't own it. Meh.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The Courtyard de Deux Arbres was empty save for a large silver machine sitting right in the middle of the grass. Cosette nervously approached it, not quite sure what to expect.
A hatch on the side suddenly sprang open, and Cosette jumped backwards. Doctor Brown extracted himself from the interior of the machine.
"Monsieur Brown?" Cosette began.
"I'll explain in a moment. Glad you could make it. You must see this!"
He pointed to the machine. "This DeLorean - um, car - is a time machine."
Cosette stared blankly. "It makes time?"
"Um . . . no," the doc paused, "it can take you through time."
"What?"
"This machine can take you to see the past and the future of the world. Several years ago . . . I mean . . . um . . . at one point in my life . . . I began to dismantle it, and in doing so discovered that it did not need plutonium to run! It can run off of Polish refuse!"
Cosette blinked at him. "Um . . . wonderful."
Doc Brown sighed and began speaking again, apparently to himself. "I knew she couldn't fully appreciate the gravity of what I have discovered. But the only one who could was Marty, and he won't be born for another one hundred and fifty years! I don't want to make a whole trip just to show him! But maybe I should . . . no; it's too dangerous. What if I met my other self? The consequences of that could disastrous!"
"Monsieur Brown? What is Polish refuse?"
"Not now, Cosette. I just wanted to show you this machine that I-"
Something finally clicked in Cosette's mind. "Oh! I could see the past with your DeLoreanumcar? Show me how it works, monsieur!"
Doc Brown stared at Cosette for a second, then shook his head. "Depressing, really."
"What is, monsieur?"
"Nothing, nothing at all." He leaned back into the machine and pointed to four screens, one on top of the other. "This top screen will show your destination . . . the time you want to go to. The next screens will show the time arrived and the time departed. This fourth one is my latest addition - the location indicator."
"Oh! But how do you tell it where to go?"
"This keypad here," the doc pointed to a series of buttons with numbers on them, "is to enter your destination time. The new one below it," he flipped the number keypad up, "is to set your destination place."
"Show me, please," Cosette implored.
Doc Brown smiled and began to type on both keypads. "MONTREUIL-SUR-MER" appeared in the bottom screen, and "OCT 08 1823" flashed onto the top one. The other two remained blank.
Cosette gasped. "Look at the pretty lights!"
The doc chose to ignore this. "October the eighth, 1823. That was an important day in the history of my time machine. That was the day I designed the refuse receptor." He gestured toward a box on the back wall of the machine. "Then, after you enter your destination information, you press this pedal until this little dial is pointing to the fifty. It used to go higher than that, but I decided that, for the sake of the 19th century, I'd bring it down."
"Monsieur Brown! Where did you get the Polish refuse?"
Emmet Brown laughed smugly. "I traded a group of Polish men for a carbine. But I didn't give them any ammunition!"
"Wait a second. Wouldn't a terrorist have ammunition already?"
A horse whinnied from down the street. Cosette and Doc Brown heard hooves hitting the cobblestones as something approached at an unusually fast speed. A blue and white omnibus swerved into the courtyard, a Polish man leaning out the window with a carbine.
The doc reached into the time machine, pulled out a small sack, and turned to face the Polish terrorists.
The man fired, narrowly missing Cosette.
Doc Brown whirled around. "Quick! Get in the car!"
Cosette did nothing.
The doc shoved her into the time machine and slammed the door after her. Another shot narrowly missed his wrist. He opened the sack and held out its contents to the terrorists - ammunition.
The Polish with the gun sneered.
The carbine fired repeatedly, and the doc fell.
"NO!" Cosette screamed from inside the machine. "You bad men!"
The terrorists opened fire on the time machine. Panicked, Cosette began to press buttons and stomp on pedals. The machine jerked into motion.
The Polish terrorists stared as the silver machine began to roll across the courtyard, picking up speed every inch of the way. Coming to, one began to whip the horses.
Seeing that the omnibus was following her, Cosette pushed her foot harder against the pedal. The machine went even faster. Trees and bushes became a blur as the courtyard flew past the windows of the DeLorean.
One of the little things in front of her was moving. Cosette watched, amused, as the little needle climbed up until it pointed straight upward.
There was a flash of light and Cosette was speeding through a dead cornfield. Ahead of her was an old barn. She didn't know how to make the machine stop. The barn was only inches away. She was going to wreck.
The car flew through the open doors of the barn and landed in a large pile of hay. The door flew open.
Cosette climbed out of the car, looked down at herself, and screamed.
La Pamplemousse - Yes, I do quite a good job of recreating the 98 movie, don't I? Muahahahaha! I even got the collapsing into the chair! Not to . . . uh . . . bring back horrible memories of that movie or anything ::eye twitches:: I promise Valjean will not smack Cosette.
Winter-Lady - Glad you appreciate my author's note. My mom was walking by as I typed "biche," and she got a little worried about me. So, I typed the author's note to make her stop staring.
Thanks so much to the other reviewers. Sorry about the name switch out. I /do/ know Valjean's Fauchelevant name, but I wrote that chapter while doing my biology homework. (I've changed it.)
Disclaimer- If I could have any of this, I would take it. Okay, I'd just take the DeLorean. But I don't own it. Meh.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The Courtyard de Deux Arbres was empty save for a large silver machine sitting right in the middle of the grass. Cosette nervously approached it, not quite sure what to expect.
A hatch on the side suddenly sprang open, and Cosette jumped backwards. Doctor Brown extracted himself from the interior of the machine.
"Monsieur Brown?" Cosette began.
"I'll explain in a moment. Glad you could make it. You must see this!"
He pointed to the machine. "This DeLorean - um, car - is a time machine."
Cosette stared blankly. "It makes time?"
"Um . . . no," the doc paused, "it can take you through time."
"What?"
"This machine can take you to see the past and the future of the world. Several years ago . . . I mean . . . um . . . at one point in my life . . . I began to dismantle it, and in doing so discovered that it did not need plutonium to run! It can run off of Polish refuse!"
Cosette blinked at him. "Um . . . wonderful."
Doc Brown sighed and began speaking again, apparently to himself. "I knew she couldn't fully appreciate the gravity of what I have discovered. But the only one who could was Marty, and he won't be born for another one hundred and fifty years! I don't want to make a whole trip just to show him! But maybe I should . . . no; it's too dangerous. What if I met my other self? The consequences of that could disastrous!"
"Monsieur Brown? What is Polish refuse?"
"Not now, Cosette. I just wanted to show you this machine that I-"
Something finally clicked in Cosette's mind. "Oh! I could see the past with your DeLoreanumcar? Show me how it works, monsieur!"
Doc Brown stared at Cosette for a second, then shook his head. "Depressing, really."
"What is, monsieur?"
"Nothing, nothing at all." He leaned back into the machine and pointed to four screens, one on top of the other. "This top screen will show your destination . . . the time you want to go to. The next screens will show the time arrived and the time departed. This fourth one is my latest addition - the location indicator."
"Oh! But how do you tell it where to go?"
"This keypad here," the doc pointed to a series of buttons with numbers on them, "is to enter your destination time. The new one below it," he flipped the number keypad up, "is to set your destination place."
"Show me, please," Cosette implored.
Doc Brown smiled and began to type on both keypads. "MONTREUIL-SUR-MER" appeared in the bottom screen, and "OCT 08 1823" flashed onto the top one. The other two remained blank.
Cosette gasped. "Look at the pretty lights!"
The doc chose to ignore this. "October the eighth, 1823. That was an important day in the history of my time machine. That was the day I designed the refuse receptor." He gestured toward a box on the back wall of the machine. "Then, after you enter your destination information, you press this pedal until this little dial is pointing to the fifty. It used to go higher than that, but I decided that, for the sake of the 19th century, I'd bring it down."
"Monsieur Brown! Where did you get the Polish refuse?"
Emmet Brown laughed smugly. "I traded a group of Polish men for a carbine. But I didn't give them any ammunition!"
"Wait a second. Wouldn't a terrorist have ammunition already?"
A horse whinnied from down the street. Cosette and Doc Brown heard hooves hitting the cobblestones as something approached at an unusually fast speed. A blue and white omnibus swerved into the courtyard, a Polish man leaning out the window with a carbine.
The doc reached into the time machine, pulled out a small sack, and turned to face the Polish terrorists.
The man fired, narrowly missing Cosette.
Doc Brown whirled around. "Quick! Get in the car!"
Cosette did nothing.
The doc shoved her into the time machine and slammed the door after her. Another shot narrowly missed his wrist. He opened the sack and held out its contents to the terrorists - ammunition.
The Polish with the gun sneered.
The carbine fired repeatedly, and the doc fell.
"NO!" Cosette screamed from inside the machine. "You bad men!"
The terrorists opened fire on the time machine. Panicked, Cosette began to press buttons and stomp on pedals. The machine jerked into motion.
The Polish terrorists stared as the silver machine began to roll across the courtyard, picking up speed every inch of the way. Coming to, one began to whip the horses.
Seeing that the omnibus was following her, Cosette pushed her foot harder against the pedal. The machine went even faster. Trees and bushes became a blur as the courtyard flew past the windows of the DeLorean.
One of the little things in front of her was moving. Cosette watched, amused, as the little needle climbed up until it pointed straight upward.
There was a flash of light and Cosette was speeding through a dead cornfield. Ahead of her was an old barn. She didn't know how to make the machine stop. The barn was only inches away. She was going to wreck.
The car flew through the open doors of the barn and landed in a large pile of hay. The door flew open.
Cosette climbed out of the car, looked down at herself, and screamed.