Disclaimer:

"Come on. It won't hurt."

"No!"

"She's a fictional character, Dot. She cannot hurt you."

"So? She's scary, man! Look at those teeth!"

JC rolls his eyes. Oh, yes, he knows it's disclaimer time, but right now, he has to handle his companion, which is trembling just out of your peripheral vision. Why? Because she has developed a phobia that is so ridiculous that it's not even funny. She has Darlaphobia.

"Ne dites pas le nom du démon!"

JC glares at his far right. "She's not real, for the Current's sake! Yes, she's a scary, psycho little demon - "

"Ah-ha!"

"But she's just a girl."

"Didn't you see the way she shook the poor lad?! A demon, I tell you!"

JC takes a deep breath and forms an idea. It has to work. Otherwise, the poor Muses will be taking a scolding lecture from Mademoiselle for being so damn silly.

"I've got an idea, Dot. How about I do this disclaimer alone and you'll do the next disclaimer by yourself?"

"Oh, that would work out . . . Oh! Oh! Now I see your clever plan!"

The Blue sweatdrops.

"You just want to creep out from the sad chapter that you don't want to do the disclaimer. Clever little Blue . . ."

"But . . . it's so sad . . ."

"Grow a backbone, man!"

"I already have one."

"You know what I mean!"

"Do you want to do this disclaimer?"

" . . . "

"Glad you see my way. Now shoo before Darla finds you."

"Yeep!"

He again rolls his eyes as Dot darts off. "The pain I suffer, working with her."

Stop being so pitiful.

"Sorry. Anyway, ladies and gentlefish, Debbie (Dai-chan) does not own 'Finding Nemo'. That's all I have to say."

JC then grins devilishly, picking up a waterproofed picture of the little redhead with metal teeth. He darts off to spook Dot.

Just because you are a gentlefish, that doesn't mean you can't have fun.

Chapter Eleven: Darla!

The night brightened into early dawn. The sky turned into a soft blue hue, along with tints of pink and orange near the eastern horizon. The city calmed after one of its wild nights, and humans were just getting ready for yet another day.

The tank in Dr. Sherman's office was always quiet, the residents rarely waking before the rush hour. As they already knew, excitement began at 9 am. Peach was often the first one to wake every day, mainly it was because of the dawn light that shone through the window and struck upon her closed eyes. She blinked, yawning. "Morning . . ." She then halted, remembering. She grinned in excitement. It was the day when Dr. Sherman's demonic niece came to get her birthday present. It was the day when the fishes were supposed to escape. It was the day of freedom! Her eyes were on the newly waking harbor as her voice roused the sleeping fishes. "It's morning, everybody! Today's the day! The sun's shining, the tank is clean, and we're getting out of - "

She stopped there, her black eyes widening. "The tank is clean?" A quick gaze around the tank convinced her. "The tank is clean!"

To the Tank Gang's surprised distress, the tank was already clean. In fact, the water felt somehow different, soft and gentle to their scales and tasting almost as sweet as the actual ocean. They took their time musing at the change of the water, and finally, they searched for the devilish source which ruined the plan. A brand-new filter stood where the broken, old filter was. It was all grey in metal and cold-looking. For some reason, the sight of the filter discomforted them. It was like it was alive, a flat dark red eye blinking and teeth that sucked in water. How did it get in there without the fishes knowing?

"Boss must've installed it while we were sleeping," Gill figured, glaring at the machine with bitterness. Around him, the Tank Gang murmured to each other, expressing their disappointment and irritation toward the filter. Why did Dr. Sherman do it today? The only chance Nemo could have to escape alive was gone, destroyed. It wasn't right.

Gill felt the young Clownfish shifting closer for comfort. He let his fin protectively curling around him. Nemo glanced up to him with anxiety. "What are we gotta do now?"

The Moorish Idol slightly frowned, then gazed up to his friend. "What's it says, Peach?"

Her response was indistinct.

"I can't hear you, Peach!"

The Starfish twisted off the wall and began reading off a booklet. The booklet was clearly an instruction of installing the filter and the directions, as well. It even had a fancy name. "The Aquascum 2003 is an all-purpose, self-cleaning, maintenance-free saltwater purifier, that's guaranteed to extend the life of your aquarium fishes."

Bloat was barely keeping his rage in, glaring at the filter, his cheeks swelled. He then snapped, not wanting to hear more, "Stop it!" He inhaled in water and burst up.

"The Aquascum is programmed to scan your tank environment every . . . five minutes?!"

Gurgle was horrified. "Scan? What does that mean?"

A hissing buzz sounded from the Aquascum, and their attention was turned to it. The fishes froze, alarmed, as a thin ray of dark scarlet light beamed out from the filter. It flattened into a sheer sheet, which 'scanned' the entire tank, the fishes included, their eyes following closely. The light then vanished.

"Temperature: 82 degrees. Ph Balance: Normal."

The Tank Gang was impressed. "Oooh."

"Nice," Peach chuckled weakly.

Gurgle's face twisted into a desperate visage mixed with frustration. He darted close to the filter, clenched his fins, and blared, "Oh, curse you, Aquascuuuum!"

The still-bloated Bloat scowled. "That's it for the escape plan. It's ruined."

Gill gave him a warning glare. He was feeling worried, to his surprise. He would express a bit of impassive concern to any of his friends, but he began to feel great anxiety for the little Clownfish. He was only six and ready to live his life up to the fullest. It was ill-fated for him to experience life too short by having him in an enclosed box with limited expenses, then be shaken to death by a human. It wasn't fair for Nemo. It wasn't right. Gill was determined to get him out of here. Keeping Nemo alive was his top priority.

Apparently, Nemo was thinking the same. He still showed worry, but he didn't lose his composure. He was asking, "What are we going to do about - "       

A frighteningly familiar bell rang. The door bell! She was here!

The fishes stared at each other, gasping out one name that they feared: "Darla!"

Gill bluntly pushed Nemo in the barrel. "Stay low, kid!" Knowing that the lad will obey him, Gill joined the fishes at the wall that faced the waiting room. The humans they saw were only a mother and a worried-looking boy getting ready for his annual check-up.

"False alarm!" the Blowfish announced.

Sighs of relief echoed in the tank.

"My nerves can't take more of this," Gurgle whimpered, sinking down to the floor.

Already deflated, Bloat was displeased, scowling at the humans as if he wished they were the girl instead so he could throw all his frustration there. "What'll we do when that brat comes?"

"I'm thinking . . ." Gill hated it whenever he failed to think quick enough in risky situations. His plan of breaking the filter failed because that stupid dentist had to be resourceful. He couldn't think of any plan to keep Nemo out of the dentist's sight until Darla departed.

The sudden yell of Nemo alarmed the fishes and they turned just in time to witness Nemo being trapped by a fish net. He was shouting for help as he was being shoved gently. Gill darted forward and slipped into the fish net. He's done that before. He had taught the rest about school defense. All they needed to do was to get in the fish net altogether and use their force to push the fish net downward until the dentist had to let go. Pressing his face against the biting net, Gill ordered Nemo to aid him swimming down. Soon, the other fishes joined them, their tails adding to the powerful force. Bewildered, Dr. Sherman let the net go.

Nemo was free!

The Tank Gang laughed with contentment at a job well done. They didn't pay close attention to Nemo at this time. Gill's pride vanished when he again heard the surprised yells. Looking up, he then saw Nemo now in a plastic bag. The dentist tied the ends and placed the bag on the counter.

"Roll, kid!"

"Keep on rolling out of that window!"

"Lean! Lean!"    

Nemo was slightly confused, but then was already persistent to escape. Gill was amazed at the great strength in the little body as he watched the Clownfish hustle the bag toward the open window. If he was his real father, he would be very proud. As he neared, Gill's joy expanded by the second. He was going to make it! C'mon, kid! Flap your tail!

Despair plummeted back in when the dentist picked up the bag just before it was ready to roll off. With a chuckle of 'That would be a nasty fall', the dentist returned the bag back to the counter, this time put it in a tray. The Clownfish was now terror-stricken, darting forth and back, uselessly ramming at the bag. The Tank Gang watched in helpless dejection. There was nothing for them to do to rescue Nemo. It was too late.

The upset Gill was grieved to see Nemo's face full of horror, pressing his good fin against the plastic. His orange eyes were glued on the Moorish Idol, seeking comfort, hope, anything. "Gill! I don't want to be belly-up!"

Gill touched the wall with his good fin, envisioning himself holding Nemo's fin in comfort. He knew it was difficult to keep the anxiety from his voice, but he was sincerely worried. He never felt so helpless, not since one of the Tank Gang's members, Chuckles, was taken away. He can't let Nemo see the failure in his face. "Calm down, kid," he murmured. "I promise you won't go belly-up. Everything will be ok."

The door slammed open. A nearby lamp shattered. A picture fell down.

Darla grinned.

The Tank Gang cowered.

"DARLA!"

***

Nope. Wrong boat.

Marlin muttered to himself as he moved to the next one. Nothing of the boats looked familiar to the boat that took Nemo away. There were many small white boats, but nothing looked the same to the one with the three-tailed spinning end and the chain. But yet another failure didn't bother him. He simply moved on and tried his best to find the right boat. He was so persistent that he didn't get to sleep much last night. After the long travel in the murky waters and the interesting ride inside the Whale's mouth, he and Dory didn't get much sleep, even after a couple of hours. He was too anxious to let himself sleep. He wanted to find the boat as soon as possible. So after hours of sleep, he had dragged Dory out from their sleeping shelter and began looking.

Dory stared at a boat with the drowsy blankness, but still grinned cheerfully. "Any of those boats look familiar to you?"

Marlin shook his head. "No, none of them, but we will keep searching." He dipped his gills to wet them, then jerked his head forward. "C'mon, Dory."

The Blue blinked her eyes, trying to stay awake. She didn't want to disappoint him, didn't want to stop looking for his son. She even stated that to him, so he won't be unhappy. "I'm really excited . . . are you excited . . . ?"

Marlin glanced back and frowned at a great yawn coming out from the Blue. "Aw, Dory, c'mon, wake up." He gently slapped his fin on her cheek, remembering that she was a heavy sleeper. He didn't mean to keep her awake all night, but he wanted to find his son soon. The sooner, the better.

Her eyelids fluttered open, then she seemed to spot something up in the sky, for she gasped, "Duck!"

Duck? The Clownfish squinted up in the sun-bright sky. He did see a dark spot, which was growing blacker and bigger. He then chuckled as he turned back to her. "Silly, it's not a Duck. It's . . ." He paused, recalling the loose throat pouch underneath the beak. Only one species of bird had that pouch. " . . . A Pelican!"

The hungry Pelican, Gerald, was simply searching for breakfast. He never asked for easy breakfast, for he and all the other birds knew there was never an easy breakfast. That was why he was very astonished to see two tiny fishes swimming at the surface with no sense of safety. He was tempted to go scoop them up, but he stayed at his post, curiously watching as the fishes repeatedly bobbed to the surface and peered at the boats as if were inspecting them for something. He could tell that they were tropical from their bright coloring, but he thought that even the water-foreigners were smart enough not to tease predators and stay deep underwater.

Yet, they were easy breakfast, and Gerald was no fool to reject an easy breakfast. Little did he know when he bailed them up in his throat pouch, that the two fishes had a serious mission that wasn't meant to be interrupted by anything, not even by Pelicans. As the determined fishes wedged themselves in his throat to avoid being swallowed, Gerald began to wonder if easy breakfast was often that feisty.

Nigel was jolted awake by a rude shove. Blinking against the sunlight, he turned in puzzlement. His flock had five other Pelicans, all perching near a billboard for both sleeping spots and watching the boats in enjoyment. The Pelicans were observing something on the deck, great amusement in their wrinkled faces. The nearest Pelican gestured, toward the dock. "Hey, look. Sun's barely up, and Gerald's got more than he can handle."

Sure enough, Gerald appeared to be choking on something, his wings wildly flapping. Nigel shook his head pityingly and said, "Yeah, reckon somebody help the poor fella."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, right."

Nigel gave his fellow Pelicans a sour frown. It was just like any other Pelican. They liked to watch torture. It amused them. He responded sarcastically, "Don't everybody fly off at once."  He took off and landed beside the choking Gerald. The darker Pelican seemed stunned, his wide eyes darting around in astonishment. Nigel chuckled quietly. "What's the matter, Gerald? Fish got your tongue?"

At that, Gerald opened wide his beak. Indeed, two fishes were gripping on his tongue, the blue and orange faces equally astonished as their would-be predator. Nigel's eyebrows merely rose in mild interest, then further with astonishment. "Love a duck!" With a hard slap on his back, Gerald finally spat the fishes out.

Nigel then heard the tiny orange fish speaking, "I've got to find Nemo!"

"Nemo?" Nigel took a good look at the fishes and was surprised. One of the fishes looked almost exact to Nemo. A Clownfish! Nemo's father! "Oh, that's him!" Nigel said to the distracted Gerald. "That's the one who's been fighting the whole ocean!" He was excited! Finally, Nemo would get to see his father again! Nigel turned to the dock, beginning to say something, then stopped. No fishes were there. Just puddles of water and saliva. He glanced up and saw the fishes flopping themselves toward the waters. Oh, no, not now! The father needed to know where Nemo was and Nigel knew where! "Wait! Wait!"

A bird meant only one thing, just like sharks, anglerfishes, and even whales. Hunger. Sure, they were 'rescued' from a Pelican, but only to be prepared to be eaten by another Pelican. Birds and fishes weren't meant to be friends. Marlin wasn't planning to stay and patiently listen to whatever the Pelican had to say. Besides, he and Dory were running out of breath. They needed to return back to the waters quickly. Gasping and flipping their bodies in an attempt to approach the waters, the fishes fled, or at least, were trying, while the Pelican was chasing them.

"Keep going, Dory!" Marlin gasped out, hoping that she caught the concept. "He's crazy!"

"Wait, I have something to tell ya!"

Splat.

Marlin stared at a guano, which had dropped from above, so close to his face. He then felt a sudden apprehension, like many piercing eyes watching him. Beside him, Dory and the Pelican had froze at the wet sound, also eying it. Carefully, slowly, the trio looked up.

"Mine?"

Oh, good grief!

Tens of seagulls were perching nearby, particularly on everywhere they could perch on. They watched directly at him and Dory with hunger. It frightened him. It wasn't like predatory hunger of Sharks or the natural hunger of Pelicans. It was a stupid but very scary hunger, in which the seagulls lock their tiny black eyes on you until you break in sweat, then in the next instant, you would remember nothing of your last moments but the insides of a stomach. It was the kind of hunger that made the predator waited until you move one muscle, then attack. He didn't move, careful not to spook the gulls into a feeding frenzy. Dory was also still, her wide eyes darting around. The Pelican, for some reason, was frozen in mid-stride. He was too big for any of the seagulls to eat! Why didn't he go ahead and gobble the fishes up, anyway?

Then to his surprise, the Pelican gingerly lowered his head, keeping his black eyes on the gulls, and whispered, "Don't make any sudden moves. Hop in my mouth if you want to live."

Oh, you've got to kidding me. Marlin managed to direct a disbelieving glower at the Pelican. "Hop in your mouth? How does that make me live?"

"Mine."

The Pelican flinched as a gull landed dangerously close. "Because I can take you to your son."

"Yeah, right."

"No, I know your son. He's orange with a gimpy fin on one side . . ."

His orange eyes widened at the distinguished description. There was no way; simply no way that anybody else beside Nemo could have the same 'gimpy fin'. He yelled out his intense joy at the description, his tail flipping himself up in the air - instantly triggering the seagull's attacks.

He was suddenly deafened by the shrill chant of 'Mine! Mine! Mine!' as he experienced the blunt pounds of the dull beaks upon his body. Flinching at the painful spasms, he found himself being rebounding by the gulls, they trying to snap upon him. Then suddenly, everything around him went dark as he was thrown in something soft and loose. What, am I in a throat - no! The Pelican! The throat pouch! An instant later, something else was bumped against him as the surroundings brightened, then darkened. Even in the dimness, Dory's eyes shone. This time, she wasn't happy, gasping weakly as she rubbed her sore fins. Marlin rested his fin upon hers in an effort to soothe her. It was absurd, and he knew it. They were in some bird's mouth, and their gills were already shriveled from lack of water. If they didn't get to breathe water in seconds, it would be too late.

Please, give me a chance to tell my son that I'm -

For some purpose, his wish wasn't finished because it was already answered. The beak opened up and saltwater came pouring in. Marlin inhaled in the sweet liquid, never thought that water could taste so delicious. He then noticed that the throat pouch seemed to sway in wild movements. Was something happening out there? Already curious, Dory surfaced and peered out from the partly opened beak. Her gasps of delight didn't help ease his worry. Will she ever realize that she was in danger? He swam to her, pursuing to make her acknowledge about the danger, then stopped, gawking.

He was amazed at another new world. He lived in the underwater world, has seen the surface world where Divers and birds lived, but never heard of the sky world. Cool air tickled past his scales, tugging a pleasing sensation much like the one from the ride of the eddy. Boats of all sizes and colors lined up at the Dock, and here and there was a Diver doing business. Once again, Marlin felt freedom and a thrill, just like he felt it during the race in the jellyfish forest, just like in the abyss, and in the eddy. Was that what birds feel when they fly?

The familiar chant of 'Mine! Mine! Mine!' jolted him back to the danger. Gripping on the beak's edge firmly, Marlin then saw the gulls chasing him - no, the Pelican. The Pelican was flapping his wings as hard as he could, his face scowled in fierce determination. The Clownfish was surprised. The Pelican was helping him? But why? Was that because he knew Nemo? How could he know him? The way he spoke about Nemo stated that his son was still alive. It was a relief, but then where could he be?

The Pelican's face was then alarmed. "Everybody, hold on!" he managed to gargle from around the water and the opened beak. Marlin quickly turned around and gasped, for the Pelican was soaring toward wide white sails! Is he insane?! We'll never get out of this alive! All Marlin could do was hang on the beak and scream helplessly, along with Dory's startled shrieks.

In an impressed instant, the Pelican flipped himself into a vertical swoop that sent him flying past between the sails.

Marlin cracked open his eyes, didn't remember closing them, and looked back. Apparently, the gulls were either stupid or too late, for all Marlin saw were their beaks being stuck in the sails. They must've smacked right in the sails and got their beaks stuck.

"Mine! Mine! Mine!"

Yep. Stupid.

Marlin made a relieved laugh as Dory gleefully waved good-bye. Finally, at last, his journey was nearing its end. At last.

***

No matter how angelic or polite children can be, they seemed to be born with a morbid interest in everything that moved. They couldn't help it. They would torture an animal in every possible way just to see how it worked. Using a magnifying glass, they would aim an intense sunray upon an unsuspecting ant, watched the squirms, and felt nothing but horrible amusement. Or they would pull a cat by its tail and laugh at the hisses. They didn't mean it, but they couldn't help it. They were worse than scientists. At least, scientists knew when to stop. Children never stop. They always wanted to know more, wanted to find the reasons why animals were like that, why they acted that way.

The Tank Gang had experienced such children like that. They often became stunned at the terrible tapping by the children who were merely curious to see how the fishes moved. The children would try and spook poor Bloat into inhaling himself and laughed as the other fishes tried deflating him. The Tank Gang tried their best to tolerate the visits, trying to ignore them, and often they were greatly relieved after the children got bored. They thought they would never meet anybody as worse as the curious children.

Of course, there was always someone much more worse. It was simple logic.

Darla, or Metalteeth, which the Tank Gang nicknamed her with resentfulness, was merrily tapping the tank. Her strength was possible to shake the very glass, scaring the fishes up to the possibility that someday, the glass would shatter under her finger. She was the Tank Gang's living nightmare. When they saw the girl in the doorway, they groaned and quickly covered their ears as the girl darted over to the tank, eager to 'study' them. Gill, Jacques, and Gurgle seemed to have a better time tolerating the taps, hoping that their glares would remove the girl out of their sights. Deb, Bloat, Peach, and Bubbles lost their tolerance after a few seconds of tapping.

"Too loud!" Bubbles cried, the tapping further unnerving him. "Too loud for me!"

Poor Bloat had inhaled and that made Darla tapped some more in madness.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star!" The girl literally shrieked instead of singing. She had focused her attention on her favorite fish - Peach.

"Find a happy place! Find a happy place!" Peach shut her eyes tight, holding on dear life, a couple of her arms already hanging off helplessly.

After what seemed to be longer than an eternity, Darla finally departed the waiting room. The Tank Gang's relief was brief because they knew that any minute, Dr. Sherman will present Nemo to Darla, and any minute, Nemo would be dead. They moved closer to the opposite wall, watching the uncle and niece chattering, their full attention on them. They felt completely lost, knew that they were helpless right now. They couldn't help Nemo. It was too late. Still, they weren't giving up. All the fishes struggled in their heads, trying to find a faint possibility of an idea to save Nemo.

Their worry increased as Dr. Sherman strode up to the glass. Oh, no, he was going to give her Nemo! Then Dr. Sherman formed a grimace on his face as he glanced at the bag. "Oh, poor little fella."

The Tank Gang was horrified to see the little Clownfish floating on his back, his soft face deadpan. Too late.

"He's dead," Bloat groaned.

"Sharkbait!" Gill gasped, his heart twisting in deep grief. He couldn't believe it. Why would Nemo give up all of a sudden?

The bag was then shoved behind the dentist's back, he trying to fool his niece about leaving her present in a car. The fishes' eyes couldn't leave their friend's face. It was impossible. The cheerful, innocent lad was dead? They didn't want to believe that, didn't want to accept it. Nemo slightly stirred, opened one eye. He then grinned at the shocked friends and made a wink. Quickly he floated still as Dr. Sherman shifted the bag out of the fishes' sight.

"He's not dead!" Gill grinned as his gang moved to another wall to watch the dentist closely.

"What's happening? Why's he playing dead?" Bloat asked worriedly.

The dentist was heading for the bathroom, and Gill felt a burst of pride. "He's going to be flushed!"

The Fishes were amazed at the youngster's cleverness. Finally, Nemo was heading for safety! Everything will be alright!

The dentist shifted from the bathroom to a small trash can standing in a corner.

"No!" Gill gasped, shaking his head, as if he was dreaming. "Not the trash can!"

"Hey, I found Nemo's dad!"

The Tank Gang whirled, bewildered to see Nigel balancing as he landed on the awning. He was beaming with barely contained pride, his beak partly open. It was filled with seawater, and two bright-colored fishes peeked out. A Clownfish looked very alike to Nemo, his face full of upset worry, gripping on the beak and trying to search for something. Beside him, a Regal Blue Tang was beaming, curiously looking around.

"Where's Nemo?" Marlin demanded.

"Dentistdentistdentist!" the fishes managed to stutter out from between their frantic pointing gestures.

Nigel noticed the gestures, didn't see the little Clownfish among the fishes, and understood. He worriedly gazed over to the dentist, seeing the plastic bag heading for the trash can.

"Nigel, get in there!"

"I can't get in there!" he protested at Marlin's order.

"Oh, yes, you can!" Scowling fiercely, Marlin let go of the beak and yanked on the Pelican's tongue. "Charge!"

It was an understatement to name this turmoil. It wasn't turmoil. It wasn't disorder. It wasn't even chaos. It was all of them. It wasn't natural for a bird, especially a heavy-looking, awkward Pelican, to enter a building. It wasn't natural for a fish to take control of a Pelican by grabbing on his tongue, either, but the humans didn't know that. What they knew was that a Pelican managed to get inside and cause a frenzy of flapping wings that scared the wits out of Dr. Sherman and Darla. Dr. Sherman, still having his hand closed tight on Nemo's bag, chased Nigel around the room, the Pelican smart enough to stay out of the grabbing hands. Darla did what any other young girl would do - stay in her chair and give out loudest screams, her legs flapping, as her pointing finger targeted the source of the disturbance the whole time.

Finally, Nigel achieved to slam right in the dentist. The bag flew out of his hand and thumped down on the dental tray. Luckily, none of the sharp instruments broke through the plastic. Marlin again peeked out, tried again to see any hint of his son. He found him, there in that bag.

Floating on his back.

 . . . Nemo?

He is dead? No . . . it can't be . . .

But he was floating on his back. Dead fishes did that. A certain sign of death.

My Nemo is dead?

"Nemo . . ." Marlin barely voiced out. He felt nothing at this moment, nothing but a deep emptiness. He didn't believe it, didn't want to believe the reality, but it was there. He saw it too late. Nemo was dead. The emptiness began to fill with an emotion that he experienced only once - when his Coral died. Despair. Marlin then cried out with heartbreaking grief. "Nemo!"

Nemo popped open his eyes and righted himself. He was shocked to hear his father's voice so close, full of sorrow. "Daddy?" He didn't see his father at all. Just the dentist struggling with a Pelican - Nigel! - and tossing him out the window in frustration. "Daddy!" Where was he? He knew he heard his father's voice. Where was he?

The bag was then jerked and lifted up in the air by a tiny hand. Nemo shrunk to the far side as he regarded the distorted face of Darla.  The green eyes darkened. "Fishy?" She then shook the bag with such a ferocity that shocked even the Tank Gang. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Gill turned furious, his eyes flashing. Like heck, he will be going to give up on Nemo! He had a last plan, the plan that he always kept at the last when all the other plans failed. The plan that cost his right fin. The Moorish Idol turned to his shaken gang and ordered, "Quick, to Mount Wannahockaloogie!" The other fishes already knew the plan and didn't protest at it. They knew it was their last chance to free Nemo from Darla. As the fishes headed for the volcano, Gill wedged himself inside the top tail down. "Bloat!"

The Blowfish had placed himself right underneath the base of the volcano. Inhaling sharply, Bloat got the volcano tipped downward, until Gill's view met the sight of the bag-shaking Darla. Gurgle, Bubbles, and Deb aided in arranging the aim accurately.

"Ring of Fire!"

With swiftness, Jacques turned up the wheel.

Swoosh! With the bubbles' force, the Moorish Idol shot out of the tank, curled into a smooth arc behind the unsuspecting Dr. Sherman and landed right on the target - Darla's head.

"Aaaarrrrggh!"

Again, the bag flew up, then, with a snap, burst apart at the contact of the dental instruments. Nemo tumbled onto a dental mirror, and he was frightened at the breaths of the dry water. He struggled to draw in shaken breaths as he watched the girl screaming with Gill flipping calmly on her head. He could hear the wild cheers from the Tank Gang, but he was bewildered. What was Gill trying to do? How could he get free from the girl by having his second father distracting her?

Dr. Sherman whirled around at his niece's screams. "Crikey! Animals have gone crazy!" Already frustrated, he headed to aid Darla, but then his head met the dental X-ray machine. He was out cold before he greeted the cool floor.

Gill aimed off from her head and landed on the dental tray. Already gasping for breath, Gill nevertheless cast the astonished lad a proud grin. "Hey, Sharkbait, tell your dad I said hi." His face then in serious determination, the Moorish Idol flipped over to the mirror handle, cleverly lurching Nemo over toward the drain. Nemo felt a sensation of flying, then sharply smacked into the bowl. Water pulled against him, and he felt like he was being swallowed into a metal throat. Just before he was vanished out of sight, he heard a faint "Go get 'em!"

The Tank Gang whooped when Nemo finally entered the drain. At last, he was on his way to freedom. They knew they'll miss the innocent Clownfish afterward, but at least, they knew that he wasn't leaving with Darla this time. He was finally safe and will soon be back with his father. They then watched as Dr. Sherman unsteadily stood up, rubbing his sore head, and returned the gasping Gill to the tank. They surrounded him, grinning with joy and relief.

"Is he gonna be ok, Gill?" Gurgle quietly questioned, his eyes wide with anxiety.

Gill gave him a reassured smile. "Don't worry. All drains lead to the ocean."

"FIshy!" Darla was yelling, leaning on the drain bowl. It broke under her weight and a spurt of water spit at her.

The Tank Gang grinned.

A/O:

When I first saw Darla, the memories of my grade school returned. I never wore braces (thanks goodness!), and so whenever I saw a kid with braces, I tended to call him/her Metal Teeth. Yes, I know that was mean, but hey, kids are always mean in one way or another, and you know it. :) I couldn't resist not calling Darla Metal Teeth, because she has the worst braces I've ever seen in my life. Poor kid. She'll be traumatized in later life, I guarantee you.