Hey guys. Few pieces of news:

Okay, this'll probably be the last one for a little while. I've been going over the votes here. As near as I can tell, that's three definites for Domingo Chavez of the Tom Clancy novels, two definites and two uncertains for Lord John Marbury of The West Wing (I'm fairly certain that JA Baker and Imzadi's reviews were in favour, but not completely), Xavier has two, as does Maybourne and Bats has one, with no one interested in Bill, Beckett or Henno. That is a good thing, I'm not disappointed or anything – I'd much rather find out from just writing a short piece of fic than write a long full-size fic that no one's interested in. Whole reason I started posting this series – it's a way of finding this stuff out.

Okey-dokey, it looks like the big two are Chavez and Marbury. I'll have a crack at both of them, but due to my relative lack of knowledge of the Clancyverse I'll kick off with Marbury sometime relatively soon. By the time that's completed (or I've been asked to stop!) I should be ready to transplant Faith to the UK to give the Rainbow team one helluva shock. Besides, JA Baker was right – Faith, a member of British aristocracy (and technically of royal blood to boot, Marbury being a distant relative of the royals) – terrifying. But then, so are most interesting, amusing and fun things. And sticking her in Washington for a bit, with regular access to the White House – priceless. I'll have a bash sometime soon.

Thanks for the suggestion, Joe – as you can see, I've reposted the previous chapters. The spelling mistakes have also been removed.

Thanks for the reviews Harry, but I don't know what you were saying here in your last one: "LOL! LMAO! ROFL!" Now, I've heard vaguely of 'Webspeak' and 'Textspeak' – if it's either of those, well, the thing is I'm completely illiterate in them. Yes, I know, it's ironic considering I'm a teenager, but there you go. Sorry. Only language I speak is English, and even that's a bit iffy. grins

Imzadi: yep, O'Neill and Maybourne are from SG-1. Maybourne is, in short, a former agent for something called the NID (I think that translates as National Intelligence Directorate but no guarantees – it's fictional) which wanted to gain control over the Stargate and take a more 'want-take-have' approach. It was this analysis of their policies, reached after much idle deliberation late one night while nursing a minor hangover (came, saw, drank, got headache) that inspiration for the fic came. (They work jus' like Faith used to…maybe that's where she got it from?) For the benefit of anyone on the other side of the Pond by the way, the legal drinking age in the UK is eighteen. Britain: must love it for that if nothing else.

2005

New York

Ross Geller stared in confusion at the young woman at his front door. She had a definite no-nonsense attitude about her. "Uh…hi?" he ventured, inwardly hoping she wouldn't put his jaw through the top of his head.

"You wouldn't happen t'be Jack Geller, would ya? Your name was in the phone book, but there weren't any initials."

Ross smiled hesitantly. "Uh, no, he would be my dad. What do you want to see him for?"

She returned the smile, her expression dripping insincerity. "Back in the Eighties, he was in Boston for some business thing, ended up sleeping with my ma, left the next day and nine months later, I was born. Name's Faith. Know where I c'n find the bastard?"

Ross swallowed nervously. This was not good. "Uh, sure. I'm Ross by the way, you wanna come in?"

"Sure." Oh sweet mother of god, the way she was sashaying in those tight leather pants Ross knew he'd have to do three things; one, keep Joey away from Faith at all costs 'cause if they met, he would not be surprised if the universe exploded or something. And second, constantly remind himself she was his half sister, he was with Rachel and had a daughter with her, and third, as soon as Faith left he was so gonna need an ice cold shower. No, on second thought he'd just get a flight to a polar ice cap and run around naked for a bit. "So, whadda you do for a living bruv?"

Ross looked over his shoulder as he scrabbled through the coffee table's dread contents for a notebook with a blank page. "Uh, well, I have a P.h.D.—"

"Whoa, hey! Not what I asked, stud."

"No, it means I have a doctorate," he explained hastily, breaking her advance. "In palaeontology."

"Huh?"

Ross suppressed the sigh, sensing that it would lead to him suffering grievous bodily harm. Right…she was more like Joey than he'd dreaded. "I'm an expert on dinosaurs."

"Oh. Cool, whatever floats your boat."

"Here we go." Ross had finally hunted down that rarest of endangered species; a notebook with a blank page in it, and set about jotting down his parents' current address. "Uh…hope you don't mind me asking, but what do you intend to do when you find Dad?"

Faith glared at him, as though daring him to confront her openly. "Right now I'm thinkin'a tearing him a new one."

"Okay, it's just my sister Monica, right, when our parents were moving house they sorted out all our old stuff. But because Monica's things had been kept in the garage, well, the damp got at them, destroyed them in fact," Ross felt sweat breaking out on his brow; he had the distinct feeling that if he pulled this off his dad would owe him his life, "and anyway, Dad felt so bad about it he, uh…well, he gave her his Porsche."

Faith grinned at him. Not angrily or predatorily, just a genuine friendly grin. Bizarrely, he found himself hoping they'd get to spend some more time together. "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh?"

Faith draped a friendly arm around his shoulders. "So, if you had to guess my brother, what would you say his reaction'd be to an illegitimate kid he abandoned?"

Ah. "I-I don't know. Sorry."

She waved it off. "Ah, s'okay. Just yankin' your chain. Look, thanks man."

"You're welcome," Ross said, plucking up what he could of his courage as he handed over the address. "Look, ah, do you wanna hang out sometime? Y'know, do the whole sister-brother thing? And you could meet Monica maybe – I'll have to check, 'cause she'd probably wanna bring Chandler and then someone'd have to babysit the twins…" He trailed off, and shrugged hopefully. "I mean, I-I really understand if you don't, but–"

"Sure, why not?" Was that a trace of…what, wistfulness? "That'd be cool–"

Faith was interrupted by the insistent banging on the door. "Ross! You in there, man?"

Joey. Oh crap.

Against his better judgement, Ross opened the front door. "Hey, Joe. What's up?"

"Ah, I locked myself outta the apartment again and I need the spare key, I think the chick and the duck're getting hungry. Hey!" Oh double crap, they'd seen each other. Joey peered over Ross's shoulder. "How you doin'?" the actor grinned suggestively. Then again, as he'd credibly proved years ago, Joey could make anything sound suggestive. The phrase "Grandma's apple pie" had never been the same again to anyone in earshot.

Faith, for her part, wasn't even bothering to hide the way she was sizing Joey up. "Pretty damn good," she drawled. "So, I take it you know my brother?"

Joey blinked, eyes darting from Faith to Ross, back again, back to Ross, back to Faith, back to Ross. "Huh? But—? How—? I thought it was just you and Monica…?"

Ross sighed. "Joey Tribbiani…meet my half sister, Faith."

"Don't feel bad bud, I only just met Ross myself," Faith offered. "You doin' anything tonight?"

Back on familiar ground, Joey's well-honed instincts kicked in. "Nothing I can't cancel!"

"Too bad – I already got a boyfriend. Thanks Ross! How's Friday at six for ya?"

"Sounds fine," Ross replied as Faith breezed past him and Joey.

As soon as Faith was out of sight, Joey jerked a thumb toward the door. "Did she just say she wasn't interested in me?"

"Yep."

Joey seemed to slump before Ross's eyes. "I feel so used, man!"

Crossover with Friends.