Disclaimer: I don't own Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Monica, Joey, Phoebe, or ANY of the League; I just own the bad guy.

Feedback: I'd appreciate it.

Sethoz: Firstly, great to get a review from you at last. Secondly, thanks for the compliments about how the crossover's working out; I was a bit worried about the whole idea from the word go. Also, the bad guy is from our present; at least, the fact that he's active in this era suggests he's from this time, which doesn't rule out the possibility of immortals…

Sean Malloy-1: I didn't keep you waiting too long, right?

AN: I don't know if Ross actually has a pull-out sofa bed in his apartment, but for the purposes of this story, can we assume he does?

The One Where They Help Save the World

"OK," Monica said to herself, as she finally managed to straighten out the spare bed in her apartment to a state where she was satisfied with it, "That's that attended to. Now, all we need is rooms to be allocated to League members…."

Then her face fell. "Unless they haven't been doing anything…" she muttered to herself, as she walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the large window that gave her a clear view of the opposite building.

She sighed as she say her brother's room. Ross had apparently made a start on trying to organize the sofa to accommodate one of the League, pulling it out into a bed, but then he'd apparently decided to take a break and watch a movie, and was currently just lying on the bed watching a film.

Tutting, Monica picked up the phone and dialled Ross's number.

"Hello?" Ross said, as he picked up.

"Ross, get to work and get that bed together!" Monica yelled at her brother. "We've got a bunch of Victorian superheroes staying, you know; I am not having them think that the world's become total slobs over the last century!"

"Monica-" Ross began.

"Get to work!" Monica yelled down the phone.

"All right, all right…" Ross groaned, as he terminated the call at his end.

Looking out of the window, Monica was relieved to see Ross start to get to work on finishing the bed. Smiling slightly, she walked out of her apartment and headed out to Joey's room, knocking on the door.

"Hello?" Joey called out.

"It's me," Monica said. "Can I come in?"

"Please," Joey replied. "I wouldn't mind a little help here anyway."

Monica entered the room…

And blinked in surprise at the sight in front of her. Joey appeared to have grabbed the cushions from his sofa and chairs and stuck them on the floor to form a passable bed, with a pillow that Monica vaguely recognized as Rachel's at the end. He was currently holding his duvet above the cushions, and seemed to be trying to decide what way to put it down onto the cushions.

He looked up as she entered. "Hey Mon," he grinned.

"Um… hi?" Monica said, as she stared at him. "No offence, but why are you giving a League member your covers? Don't you need them for something?"

"No, see, that's the beauty of it," Joey smiled, as he tried turning the cover around another way to see how it looked. "See, the way I see it, I can… can…" He stopped and stared at the covers. "Wait a minute…" he muttered, as a thought struck him.

Groaning, he dropped them on the floor, headed over to a nearby cupboard, and pulled out a badly folded rug. "Will this do?" he asked Monica.

Monica shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," she said, as she walked over and picked up his duvet. "I'll dump this back on your bed, OK?" she said.

"Yeah, sure," Joey muttered, only half paying attention, as he checked the rug over.

Monica sighed as she took the duvet and carried it back into Joey's bedroom.

It's getting complicated and we don't even know what we're dealing with, she thought to herself, as she opened the door of Joey's bedroom.

"Dammit!" Joey muttered under his breath as he laid the rug down on the cushions and discovered it didn't quite fit. What was he going to do…?

"Try turning it around a bit," a voice said from behind him.

"Huh?" Joey asked, turning around to look at the source of the voice…

…Only to be met by a rifle butt in the stomach.

"Ooff!!" Joey grunted, collapsing to the ground as he clutched his stomach. Looking up, he saw four men, dressed all in black, pointing guns at his head and with balaclavas over theirs.

"Mr Joseph Tribbiani?" one of the men said, his gun levelled at Joey's eye. "Would you mind telling us the plans of the League?"

Joey went over his options, and decided to just bluff it out. After all, he had a reputation for not exactly being especially bright; maybe they'd assume he was being serious.

"Um, if you're referring to the Justice League, last I heard they were based on the moon…" Joey said, trying to sound casual.

"Don't play the idiot, Tribbiani," another gunman said, stepping forward to point his gun at Joey's shoulder. "We know you've met the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and we know you're working with them to take us down. All we want to know is what they're planning." Then he grinned. "Assuming they actually have a plan, of course."

Joey groaned. This was how he was going to die? At the hands of a bunch of guys who seemed to think that waving a gun in his face would make him talk? He was dim, but not that dim; these guys would just kill him whether or not he told them anything.

Ah well, he thought to himself, as he crouched there and waited for the bullet to hit his brain, it's a more interesting way to go then dying in bed.

Just then the door opened.

"Hey Joe, we just-" Chandler's voice began to say, before he suddenly blurted out "Oh my god!"

The gunmen spun around, just as Joey glanced up to see Chandler, Tom and Rachel standing in the door to his apartment. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it was something.

And Joey wasn't going to let it go to waste.

Desperately, he launched a punch at the legs of the nearest gunman, knocking the man down to the ground, drawing the gunmen's attention back to him.

Simultaneously, he saw Tom and Chandler (Chandler? What was that all about?) pull out a couple of guns and fire at the remaining gunmen as Rachel dived forwards and to her left, behind the cupboards and out of the line of fire.

It wasn't even really a fight.

In a few brief moments, the remaining three standing gunmen had fallen to Chandler and Tom's guns, bullets striking their shoulders and chests in rapid succession, every bullet striking one of the men; after all, at a metre apart, it's hard for anyone to miss their target, even if they're relatively new to a gun.

As the last man fell to the ground, Sawyer and Chandler threw their guns to the side, Chandler dashing towards Joey while Sawyer went back out to the hall to make sure Rachel was all right.

"You all right, man?" he asked his friend.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," Joey said, slightly shaky as he got to his feet.

"What was that all about?" Rachel asked, as she got shakily up to her feet and looked over at Sawyer.

"We'll have to find that out," Sawyer said, as he swung the gun around his finger and slid in into his belt, underneath his new jacket, before looking over at Joey. "Good on you for knocking that guy down, Joey; gives us someone to question."

"Huh?" Joey said, before he glanced down and saw the gunman he'd tackled lying on the ground, still partially winded. "Oh yeah…"

"Exactly," Sawyer smiled, as he walked over, crouched down, and looked enquiringly at the man.

Just then, the door to Joey's room opened and Monica came out.

"What the hell was all that- OH MY GOD!!" she yelled in horror, seeing the bodies lying on the floor in front of her. "What happened?!"

"Attack," Sawyer said, looking over at Monica. "The rest of us decided to check up on Ross and Phoebe's apartments; we figured it would be best to make sure that nobody had tracked us back to you guys. Looks like our fears were justified," he added, tilting his head towards the gunmen. "Don't worry; Chandler and I took out three of them, and the fourth'll follow them as soon as I've gotten some answers."

Monica blinked in surprise as she turned to look over at Chandler, while Sawyer turned back to the body on the ground.

"You shot at those guys?!" she asked her husband sounding slightly surprised.

"Well, strictly speaking, it was the gun that did it," Chandler said, holding the aforementioned weapon up in his right hand. "I just allowed it to do its job."

"No, no, hold on a minute here," Monica said, walking towards Chandler as Sawyer started to shake the gunman slightly in an attempt to wake him up. "You were holding a gun?! You?! I mean, you're not exactly a violent person normally…"

"Well, I'm not either, and look at me; I knocked a guy out recently!" Rachel said, grinning slightly as she thought back on it. "I was an asset in a struggle for our lives, and I loved it! I mean, WOW! Taking out trained professionals…"

"Albeit ones in the employ of a nutcase who wants to kill a bunch of superheroes who died almost a century ago for no apparent reason," Chandler added. "No offence, but he's probably got low standards of help in that case."

"Will you guys keep the noise down?" Sawyer asked, looking back at them. "I think this guy's waking up."

"Uhh…" the man groaned, as he leaned on one elbow and raised himself up so that he was almost sitting. "What the…?"

Then he saw Sawyer sitting in front of him, and groaned. "Ah, hell…"

"Pretty much," Sawyer said, as he grabbed the front of the man's shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Now then, just a couple of quick questions I want you to answer for me, got that? Firstly, how did you find us?"

The man coughed a little in pain, but grinned at Sawyer nevertheless.

"What're you going to do; kill me if I don't talk?" he asked smugly. "I'm not an idiot, you know; you kill me, you won't get anything."

"Ah crap…" Joey groaned, looking at the ceiling. "We had to get the smart ones, didn't we, God?"

"No worries, Joey," Sawyer said, looking over at his friend with a smile before pulling his gun out of his belt. "I have ways of making him talk other than death threats." Spinning the weapon, Sawyer pointed it down at the man's foot and fired.

As the man screamed, Sawyer slid the gun back into his belt and stared the man in the eyes.

"There are other things I can do with this gun, you know," Sawyer said, looking his 'foe' in the eyes. "I don't want to have to do it, but if you don't give us the information we want, I'll have to turn to something more damaging than a toe. Do we have a deal?"

The man nodded, his eyes slowly brimming over with faint tears.

"Good," Sawyer said, lowering the man to the ground again. "So, talk. How'd you track us to here?"

"The mall…" the man gasped, looking up at Sawyer with fear evident on his face. "W-we saw you come in with those others, a-and figured you'd probably have some other allies at wherever it was they lived, so w-we tracked your temporal displacement atoms b-back to this apartment b-block…"

"Temporal wha?" Joey said, looking over at his friends. "What's that all about?"

"Maybe it's something to do with the League not being… when they should be?" Rachel suggested casually. "You know, since they're from the past, something about them's not exactly in sync with the rest of us, so it… kinda… leaves a trace?" She shrugged. "Hey, I'm in fashion, not quantum mechanics."

Sawyer shrugged. "It's as good a guess as any," he smiled at Rachel. Then he turned back to the gunman. "Second question; does anyone else know about this?"

"No…" the man shook his head. "We thought we'd manage to take you down before that would become an issue…"

Sawyer sighed. "Well, at least that's something," he said, rolling his eyes slightly.

Then he lashed out at the man with his fist, knocking him out once again.

"Ouch!" Monica winced, as the man fell to the ground. She looked up at Tom. "Did you have to shoot his foot?"

Sawyer sighed again as he slumped down on a chair near the kitchen area. "I didn't want to; I just figured it was the only way he'd tell us anything," he said to her. Looking down at the collapsed forms on the floor, he sighed again. "We're going to need somewhere to dump these guys."

"The park?" Chandler suggested casually. "I mean, if we just get rid of most of their weapons and stuff and leave them there, they'd probably just be mistaken for a bunch of wandering nutcases, right?" He shrugged. "After all, what're they going to say; that they were tracking Tom Sawyer and Doctor Jekyll and got shot by a bunch of randoms? Who'd believe them?"

"Yeah, I guess…" Monica said, as she looked down at the fallen bodies. "Well, let's get going; it'll be night soon."

"OK," Sawyer said. "I'll just contact the others and let them know about the recent development, and then we'll need to think more about our next move." Standing back up, he looked over at Chandler. "How do I contact them? Telephone, or haven't you got that yet?"

"Um, yeah, actually, we have it," Chandler said, indicating the item in question. "It's just over there."

"Right," Sawyer said, walking towards it and picking it up, He stared at the numbers for a few seconds, and then sighed.

"On second thoughts, you do it," he said, passing it over to Chandler before looking over at Joey, Rachel and Monica. "You guys help me find somewhere for these guys to go for the moment, OK?"