Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form own Xiaolin Showdown or the characters it contains. All are the intellectual property of Christy Hui and Cartoonnetwork/WB. I do not make any profit off of this story, and write it only for enjoyment and to pass the time. However, I do claim ownership to the writing itself, and hope that those who read this can respect that as well.

Warning(s): Some foul language is used, and there are some light jokes toward Jack's dubious sexuality. These are teenagers, people. MAY CONTAIN SOME SPOILERS FOR SEASONS 1-3. So, if that's going to shatter your entire world, you might want to skip this.

(See Chapter One for further information)

Additional Notes: This chapter was really difficult for me. I kept going back and changing it almost every day, unhappy with the results. Sooo sad. Wahh.

Mmm, recommended music for this would have to be 'Save Me (Wake Up Call)' by Unwritten Law. I recently rediscovered the CD (Here's to the Mourning) in my ooooold CD holder, and I think it really sums up Jack in this story. Ha, so lame, I know. Plus, I just love the song- it's so whiney. However, I'm tentative about posting the lyrics up here – it is recommended that you search it with Google on your own time. XD

It makes me happier than a senile person with adult size diapers.

In case anyone was wondering, because I don't think I was very clear (XD meaning my explanations are as clear as an oil slick) on how the heck G!Jack is shorter; physically, he is still exactly the same as when he was originally left in the Ying-Yang world. Time passed, but not to his physical form; thus he appears to be the same age he was before, around fifteen or so, I figure, whereas B!Jack was free to grow up – he's about seventeen or eighteen in this story.

Still not very mature, but old enough to be considered an adult. Bad move, legal age system. Bad move.

Gah, I got a crazy idea about halfway through tidying up Chapter four…and now I have deleted my previous ending/chapters. The last half is completely different. O..o It's going to be quite a bit longer – sorries all around. It also means I'll have to rewrite the ending and all that. Oh noes.

Without any relevance at all: XD, Chimborazo was added for a friend, who, whilst we were taking an Knowledge Bowl written test thing, leaned in and started rattling off facts about it. So, for amusement and to sort of push the 'see, see, he IS smart!' thing, I had her repeat it over the phone while I typed. When she started going too fast, I just cut it off. XD

…she kept talking though. It was almost sad.

I'll stop rambling now – Enjoy, and ciao.

---

Part 3:

Bonding With Myself

(In which, something ACTUALLY happens)

"Oh, wow, you can see everything from up here!" Gack, as I had started calling him, smashed his face right up against the window, staring out at the Chimborazo Mountain that spread majestically in either direction. "Look! A bird!" He nearly leapt out of his seat in excitement.

"The Chimborazo is the mountain furthest away from the center of the earth," I rattled off the fact, simply for conversation's sake, not even attempting to look at the bird that had so ensnared his attention. "though it's not the tallest. I think it was around the area of six thousand two hundred sixty seven feet in elevation- which is why we will not be opening the cockpit."

Gack sheepishly removed his hand from the lever, sliding back in his seat.

I rolled my eyes in vexation. "Why did I agree to bring you along?"

"For dialogue's sake?" He responded uncertainly, again staring out the window. After an initial pause, waiting for the inevitable continuance, I sighed, relaxing back into my seat as the sweet, sweet sound of silence enveloped us. The quiet hum of the jet was soothing, the clouds wrapping around us in a soft sense of comfort; like we were floating in a sea of cotton. It was a nice, quiet lull in the nearly constant tension that had become my world. So, as with all good things, it didn't last very long. "Are we there yet?" Squirming, Gack again looked at me, boredom apparent by his expression. The knot in my shoulders that had been loosening tightened again, and I felt the muscle spasm once.

"Yeah, yeah." I grunted, glancing at the Wu detector. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Gack tittered at the phrase.

"Just…" I groped about for an idea to keep him distracted. "Watch out for the monks, okay?"

"Okay!" He gave me a sappy grin, radiating feel-good vibes. I shuddered. Utterly oblivious, the frighteningly cheery creature set about his task, whipping around to press against the glass, eager for something to occupy himself with.

He's like a little kid, I thought dismally. Then, …maybe he absorbed my inner child. Grimacing at the eerie notion, I again glanced down at the wildly flashing Wu detector. We were almost on top of the newest Shen Gong Wu, without a dragon in sight – and for good reason. The monks probably wouldn't be able to breathe this high up.

Still, it was a little worrying to not be able to see them.

Easing up on the controls, I drifted around the clouds, scanning the ground below. It was absolutely featureless, save for the glaring whiteness of the ice where the sun struck just right. However, a distinct glint soon caught my experienced eye. Eyeing it predatorily, I soon recognized the shimmering for what it was. "Ah-ha," at last I had caught sight of the precious item. "The Mask of Janus."

"Whatsit do?" Eagerly, Gack leaned forward, peering over the dashboard. Feeling pretty cocky for the moment, and thus, in a good mood, I decided to indulge his curiosity.

"It's similar to the Shroud of Shadows – allowing one to blend in with one's surroundings. Like…like a chameleon, but actually good." I slipped the craft into an easy dive, still vaguely wary of how simple this all was. To abate the feeling, I kept talking. "It's named after a god in Roman mythology: Janus the two faced – a classic deceiver. I guess that's why it's called that, with the whole 'deceiving' your enemy into thinking you aren't there or something." We bounced slightly upon impact, snow flying up in a puffy wave. "Put on this before you get out – you won't be able to breathe properly otherwise." Gruffly, I handed Gack the tiny breathing device I had made a few years back, a mere bauble in the boring hours of early morning, frowning at the pleased smirk he was making. "What?"

"Oh, just glad to see you're more considerate already," He slipped it on. "It's the good in you."

"No, I just don't want to have to haul a carcass back with me," I replied nastily, putting on my own mask. Glancing around once more, I turned thoughtfully to an only slightly unhappy Gack, deciding to play it safe. "Stay near the ship; warn me if anyone is coming."

"Okie-dokie!" He flashed a near invisible grin, thumbs up, all good spirits once more.

"Weirdo," I breathed quietly, opening the hatch. The outside air was freezing cold, a definite shift from the relatively warm air of the aircraft. Resolving to be quick about it, I hurtled over the lip of the cockpit, landing in a crouch in clean snow. This was…way too straightforward, effortless. It was so freaky.

Again eyeballing the austere landscape, I edged forward; ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Nothing moved, save for the clouds overhead. Still, might as well get going while the going's good.

Deciding to hasten my progress, I sprinted forward, leaning into the race. A peculiar feeling in the back of my neck immediately started up, the one you get when you know you're being watched. Prickly, electric tingles shot down my limbs, a forewarning, and by some instinct I had no idea I possessed, I looked skyward.

"Shroud of Shadows!"

The monks were suddenly revealed, along with their pet dragon, leaping down from the once-empty expanse of blue. After the initial hesitation of shock, I lunged forward, hoping to reach the Mask before they did—

"It is ours!" Omi shouted, reaching the Wu first, holding it over his bulbous head in victory. Before he could dodge out of the way, I sprang, wrenching the Wu out of his hand as I went past. "Stop, or face a—"

"Most humiliating defeat, gotcha." I cut him off, deciding discretion was the better part of valor, and discretion dictated I had better run away. I was in the process of doing so, though I belatedly realized it was entirely the wrong way. Spinning on my heel, I made to go straight through the foursome, but a sudden motion caught my eye.

Kimiko had reached into her pouch, opening her mouth to activate her special technique.

"Arrow Sparrow—" Before the Wudai weapon's name was even complete, I had flung myself into the snow, throwing my hands over my head in a paltry ruse of cover. I was reasonably certain I had shrieked, but wasn't about to waste time thinking about it.

The wicked birds of flame shot where my torso had been only moments before, curling back against the sky for another strike. Reminded suddenly of my decided lack of Jack-bots, I got to my knees and crouched, pitching aside at the last moment. The passing flames singed the soles of my boots. This time, however, the fire hit the snow, fizzling out anticlimactically.

Adrenaline racing, I scrambled to my knees, thankful for reflexes. "Ha, you mi—!" I yipped as a rather scary boomerang whipped toward me, glinting in the milky sunlight. Again dropping, I crawled through the snow, shouting incoherent remonstrations.

"Star Hanabi!"

I forced myself up, beginning to run again, a stitch starting in my side. This isn't working; I need to hide- ah. Without stopping, I slapped the Wu on. "Mask of Janus!" I froze where I was, panting.

"Well I'll be a egg-laying rooster – where'd he go?" Clay scratched his head, tipping back his tacky hat to scan the area. Similarly, Kimiko and Omi were baffled, the would-have-been-hilarious expressions of perplexity clearly voicing their sentiments.

Unfortunately, at least one monk was thinking.

Raimundo pointed to my feet, exclaiming his damnably good insight. "The tracks haven't moved; he's still right there."

Abruptly, four elemental attacks were on a beeline for my poor, fragile body. I flung myself away, rolling through the snow and tearing the useless mask off. "How are you even breathing up here?" Glaring at them hatefully, as if it were some sin for them to be on the very same planet as myself, I reeled, regaining my dubious footing in the calf deep snow.

"Dragon of wind, duh," Kimiko gestured to the Brazilian, who waved cheerily.

I groaned. "This so isn't fair!" Whirling about, I sprinted toward the ship, shrieking for Gack to turn the blasted thing on.

My cohort clambered back into the aircraft, but paused, baffled. "How?" He asked, panicky, looking at all the buttons. Only midway there, I face palmed, bemoaning at my lack of forethought in telling him the simple operation.

"Son of a—yerghah!" I screeched as I was flung up by a powerful wave of wind, the Mask slipping from my flapping hands as I tried in desperation to slow my descent. Hitting the ground with a roll, I made some remarkable distance, tumbling through the biting ice particles. At last, stopping at an awkward angle upon my back, I found myself staring at my toes, dazed and utterly disoriented.

The rapid crunch of running feet on snow caught my attention, and I wearily looked back to where Clay was making his move for the Wu. I knew I wouldn't get there in time, but I still reeled to my feet, racing him for it. Damn these boots! I inwardly hissed, awkward in the snow.

But we weren't the only ones going for it.

Gack tackled the monk - merely setting him off his stride, to be honest - before flinging himself onto the Wu. Despite the valiant effort, Clay still barely managed to grab part of it, prompting the ancient item to begin glowing in the ominous manner that was far too familiar.

Staring at the object in his hand as if he were completely befuddled as to how exactly it had ended up there, Gack was on the verge of dropping it. "Challenge him!" I shouted, gesticulating frenetically. Glancing at my no-doubt comical gestures, then at the monk, Gack gave in to my directions.

"Uh, Clay, I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown, I guess." Frowning in mystification, Gack faced the equally bemused monk, offering a tiny shrug of apology.

That…was a bad idea. Again, I face-palmed, bemoaning my lack of adequate help.

"Well…I reckon you'd better name your game, then, pardner." Bailey took it in stride, figuring it would be easy enough to defeat Gack as well.

After all, he is still a Jack. I fumed silently, willing the cowboy to tip over in some sort of medical shock.

"Okay," Gack looked about hurriedly, noting the sparse landscape. Then, jovial, he announced his decision…which was very typical of him. "Clay, the game is a Xiaolin Snowball. First to score three hits wins. My Eye of Dashi-" (I hurriedly checked my pockets, snapping off obscenities when I found the Wu missing) "—against your Third Arm Sash."

"Alright then. Let's go—"

"—Xiaolin Showdown!"

The ground rumbled around us, monolithic towers of ice rising into the sky like the up reaching fingers of a buried god. Twining lengths of snow and buried stone formed ledges and arches, providing the combatants with shelter to hide behind. Questionable footholds and jutting protrusions lined the slick edges, some as sharp as scimitars, some as round as Omi's noggin.

It was like a magical kingdom of sugared fantasy, bright and shining against the azure sky. Really pretty – gorgeous, even.

If I had a rocket right now…I thought wickedly, eyeballing the monks who stood beside me on a removed ledge. They didn't even seem to be in the least concerned; Raimundo yawning and reading over Kimiko's shoulder as the girl checked her email on her usual techie junk, whilst Dojo curled into a contented ball on Omi's substantial cranium. Huffing, I was about ready to snark off to one of them, but the sound of the two embattled persons attracted my gaze.

My attention was once again focused on Gack, as he and Bailey shouted the ritual words and began.

Clay scored the first hit, striking while Gack was still awkwardly standing, muddled on how to approach this situation. I could practically see the moral battle within him; was it good to fight against the side of good? Was it right? Was it all relative to perspective?

As if he thinks, I thought dryly, foreseeing another humiliating defeat in the near future.

Falling straight down from his perch atop a high tower, the good half of my psyche reached out in hysteria, clinging on to an out thrusting precipice, hauling himself atop quickly. With surprising agility, the vested freak threw himself aside as another snowball was launched his way.

"Come on, go on the offense!" I shouted my own brand of encouragement, determined to at least attempt at something. "Peg him in the face! It's a huge target."

"But that's not very nice," Gack called back, curled behind a wall. "It'd be setting a bad example for your—"

"Win and I'll let you drive the god-damned transport!" I bribed, surprised at just how desperately I wanted to be on the winning team. "The whole way back!"

I knew I had hit gold.

Gack was almost instantly up and running, packing a wicked looking snowball and a serious attitude. I was proud of the little weirdo, honestly. He looked pretty damned resolute, and proved it by throwing the snowball hard enough to stagger the flabbergasted hick. Before Clay could regain his composure, Gack had pointed the Eye of Dashi at his feet, destroying the wide platform on which he stood. Shouting, the dragon of earth tumbled toward his native element, barely managing to stop the wild descent with his Third Arm Sash and a lucky ledge.

Clay pulled himself up, crawling behind a wall just as another snowball hit the perch he had previously occupied.

The assembled Xiaolin monks gasped, drawn out of their ennui state. I couldn't help the manic sniggering that nearly bowled me over. "Go Gack!" Enthusiastic, I cheered my cohort on, all thrilled delight.

"That's a stupid name," Kimiko hissed, trying to put a halt to my merriment, but I easily brushed it off. Her clownishly colored hair was particularly appalling today, and I decided on a random fancy to attack that in retaliation for the verbal jab.

"It's an annoying word and so is he. Descriptive," I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, "Like, your parents should have named you Fugly, and it would suit you better."

Dojo barely restrained the fiery girl, but my interest was again captured by the battle at hand as Gack scored another hit on Clay's shoulder. The cowboy looked a little off balance, not sure of exactly what had come over the goody little terror.

"I thought you were one of us," He dipped low, narrowly avoiding another tight ball of snow.

"I am; this is just a good ol' fashioned game, and there's nothing evil about it." Gack fell behind a wall of ice, readying his next bit of ammunition.

"Ten thousand years of darkness if the Heylin get all the Wu," Clay reasoned, stalking warily toward the hidden teenager. "You know that." His Third Arm Sash was holding a snowball, leaving his hands free to make more.

"It's only one Wu," Gack said airily, rising up with a shout and throwing the snowball as hard as he could. "And I really wanna fly that thing."

It clipped Clay's hand as the dragon attempted to twist away, and in a flash of white, the Showdown was over.

After the initial sense of disorientation, I realized both Gack and myself were standing together, opposite the monks. Very slowly, it seemed, I came to the comprehension that he had prevailed over Bailey, and by association, I was on the winning side. A malicious smirk came over me as I scanned the Xiaolin Dragon's faces, thoroughly enjoying their astonished expressions. Victory was sweet, oh, so sweet.

Grinning broadly, Gack displayed the won Wu to me, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Did you see? Did you see? I won!" His excitement was contagious, though I was more focused on the objects cradled in his arms.

I regaled him with a warm smile.

"Ah, man, that was so fixed." Raimundo muttered, kicking at the greatly disturbed snow. "I mean, come on; Jack never wins anything." His argument, though true, still struck a chord with me, and though I was fiercely tempted to defend myself, I figured it was better to let it go, and simply bask in the moment.

"And that's why Gack is here," I patted my favorite good guy happily, avariciously eyeing the Wu. "Looks like our luck is beginning to change."

"Come on, you didn't even want him on your side!" The tiny Japanese girl, still stung after my comment, pointed out the fact accusingly. "You said it yourself, he's annoying. And he's good anyways, so the Wu should be ours."

Waving her off flippantly, I at last tore my rapacious eyes away from the magical items that so brightly shone in the wan sunlight. "But then who would show me how to be good?" I crowed, ushering my companion toward the jet. "Now, sorry, but we must be going. No, do not weep, for we'll be back to whoop you again next time. It's like they say, distance makes the heart grow- eh?"

We had suddenly stopped moving.

I looked at the frozen youth; ever so slightly miffed that he would so interrupt my wallowing gloat. The happy-go-lucky reflection turned, familiar red eyes searching my face pleadingly. "Why'd you—" I began, one brow raised in consternation.

"You said I could fly it," He announced, standing up straighter, defiant. "I won and now I can fly it." Then, timorously, "Right?"

Maybe I spoke too soon. I blanched at the thought, struck with the sudden image of us going down in flames, Gack wildly swinging the controls. "Erm…" Warily, I glanced from his face to the shimmering jet, worried for my poor, poor invention. However, Gack's eyes never wavered for a moment, and the pout in his gaze was positively unbearable.

To aid the battle, he added, doggedly, "You promised."

"People say crazy things when under stress..." I tried to shove the picture of the earth hurtling at the nose of the ship out of my mind. "And it would take so long to teach you how to use the controls. I mean, hours and hours of going over the…."

His eyes were watering.

"…the…"

I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to find a decent enough reason to set him off of this madcap course, but none came up.

"…fine." I rolled my eyes as he sprang up for another hug, fending off his overeager advance with one hand. "But if we die in a fiery hell storm of nightmarish pain, I'm blaming you." Sternly, I fixed him a serious look.

"Don't worry! I promise to not kill us." Bubbling over with glee, he scrambled up into the cockpit, myself reluctantly close behind. Settling himself in the coveted driver's seat, he eagerly looked over the mass of buttons. Before I could even properly settle into my seat, let alone get a seatbelt on, he inquired earnestly, "What's this one do?"

"For the love of Newton, don't press-!"

The jet did a back flip.

"It would be most prudent to leave now," Omi said quickly, clambering aboard a much-enlarged Dojo.

"Agreed," The other monks followed his lead, taking off from what was sure to be a most dangerous scene. As they left, they winced at my horrified screams as, yet again, curiosity got the better of the moron.

"Wee!"

---

Vehemently cursing the day I had ever heard of Shen Gong Wu, I again attempted to weld back on the landing gear that had so horrifically been torn off against the edge of a cliff. Sparks flew against the protective mask front, bouncing crazily on the cement floor as they struck it. Somewhere within the confines of the Lair, Gack was still 'sulking' after a fierce remonstration and an fervent oath that he would never fly again.

By sulking, I mean he was still on a high of pulling off a dangerous, sickening dive straight toward a surely traumatized village.

Snorting at the thought, I pulled the trigger on the torch hard, sending a brutal burst of whitish fire around the damaged metal. Might as well get new rods for this, I thought as the wheel fell off once again. "Son of a…." Muttering, I flicked it aside with one thickly gloved hand, sliding off the mask with the other. The light was immediate and harsh, drawing a wince from me as I achingly rose to my feet, muscles protesting furiously.

"It's a lost cause," I announced to a nearby Jack-bot, handing it the torch. "I'll be brooding over my desk if anyone needs – wait, scratch that. If anyone comes in here, beat them savagely." I picked up the half of a wheel spoke left. "With this. I want to hear some screams."

"Yessir." The robot saluted smartly, and I entertained the thought of actually allowing it to do so. For a moment, I was going to call it back, saying that last bit was a joke, but decided against it.

I wasn't in a very forgiving mood.

Collapsing in my chair, I blankly regarded an assortment of various unfinished projects, wondering which useless triviality would sufficiently absorb my vast amounts of free time.

"Oh, man, that was so awesome!" Gack pounced from seemingly nowhere, appearing to be made of elastic substance as he wobbled rowdily, arms wriggling about in imitation of flight…one could assume. "Do you remember when I hit that button? The one with the big 'X' on it? Vwoosh!" He threw himself upon the desk, ecstatic in reminiscing of the nightmarish flight. "It was like the fourth of July, but bigger. I didn't know live trees could burn so well."

"Did it ever strike you that those rockets just might have been expensive?" I drawled acerbically, leaning away from the apparent adrenaline junkie.

"Huh? Ah, well, that's okay. What do you need them for, anyhow?" He waved off the question, swinging his legs over the edge and fiddling with a screwdriver. "Hey, you wanna take out the—?"

"No," I cut him off, snatching the tool from his hands. "Definitely no."

"Bu—"

"No, never again, no way." Wagging a stern finger, I somberly regarded his puerile expression. "Don't even ask about it."

"Wh—"

"What part of the word 'no' don't you understand? Are you bound and determined to destroy everything I have ever made? Or do you just enjoy ruining lives?" Aggravated by the double, I rose up and stalked away, determined to ignore him whatever the price. However, I was disappointed in even that aim as he trudged after, dejected as a kicked puppy. No matter to where I fled or what I made a scathing, cruel comment about, he was right there, like a shadow. At last, fed up with the parade, I faced my opposite, slouching against a generator.

"What do you want from me?" Rubbing at the site of a rapidly approaching migraine, I looked at him from under my goggles, giving up the ruse of evasion. Gack looked positively desolate, lower lip quivering.

"I just wanna help," He replied, quiet in the face of my animosity. "And…I'm sorry that I broke your…flying thingy. I didn't mean to." Scuffling the ground with one foot, he glanced up, hopeful, to see how his apology was received.

Before I could say the callous statement that burned on my tongue, I paused, taking a deep breath and letting my shoulders relax and hand fall away from my head. Begrudgingly, "It's alright; it's all replaceable. Besides, at least it wasn't completely blown up this time around." Holding out my hands in an expression of surrender, I stood up straight, relenting in giving him a little pat on the top of the head. "If you really want to help, I suppose you could do some of the repairs. Err…" Struck again with violent images, I changed my tact, eyeballing the greatly brightened double, "at least hand me some of the tools."

"Whoopee!"

"…Don't ever say 'whoopee' again."

---

"No, no; the open end quarter inch wrench, not the box-end." I handed back the (yet again) wrong implement, cramped in the tiny space on the inside of the hollowed front. My feet were propped up on the nearly shattered remains of the burner, which had been shoved, somehow, straight into the blades of the compressor. "This is the last time I use afterburning low-bypass turbofans." I muttered darkly, giving the equipment a harsh glower.

"Here you go," Gack, oblivious, cheerily slapped another wrench into my hands, and I was suddenly very certain he had no idea what he was doing.

"How did you even manage to break any of this?" Squinting at the proffered item, I tried to determine its origin, and sighed when I realized it was again wrong. "This is an adjustable spanner." Giving in to fate, I slid my upper body over the gap of plating, and slipped out, hanging by my knees.

"A what now?" He watched attentively as I hung, bat like, over the assorted wrenches, muttering.

"Err, a crescent wrench, as it is better known." I dug through the toolbox, which was woefully disorganized, giving a triumphant 'ah-ha!' when I discovered my objective lying at the bottom. "And here we are, the fabled open end quarter inch." Once more venturing into the breach, I withdrew into my workspace, flicking back on my tiny flashlight.

For a time, I worked in comparative silence, save the clatter of useless bits that I unceremoniously shoved out of the bottom. Gack, meanwhile, stacked the wrenches and other assorted utensils up in a strange tower, handing me only completely random ones that would not stand. It was hardly conductive, but if it kept him entertained….

But good things never last for long.

"What are you doing up here?" Out of the blue, the question echoed in the itty-bitty space, half of Gack visible as he hauled himself up for a look.

I shrieked in surprise, kicking out and sending my brand-new inlet deep into the still empty nozzle. Once I realized it was not some horror from beyond the darkness come to devour me, I calmed down enough to curse violently. "Attempting to fix the damage you've done," I snapped at his cringing form, rubbing my head where it had clunked onto the ceiling. Flicking my irritated gaze over to his, ready to lay in to him, I paused at the wounded face he had made, recoiling from my harsh tone. Inexplicably, upon seeing the woeful expression, I felt remorseful, and diffidently opened my mouth to apologize—

But was interrupted by grating, sudden beeping. "Move," I commanded immediately, secretly relieved I wouldn't have to give in to my vindictive conscience, slithering out of the half-emptied jet. Gack jumped out of the way, trailing inquiringly after as I seized the Wu-detector. "Sweet, another one has just shown up." Two Wu, with only a day apart; a rare occurrence, though it had happened before. "We'll just fire up the…."

I gave the jet a disparaging look, and quickly abandoned any thought of piloting it in its current condition. "Looks like it's time to improvise."

Gack again tagged along, thankfully silent.

One of my older models, still in mostly good shape, would do nicely enough. It had been a while since I had fixed them up, but as long as it didn't randomly combust….

"I'll be right back," Standing on the wing of an old, clunky aircraft, I again wagged a finger at Gack, "so don't go destroying the place while I'm gone, okay?"

"But why can't I come?" Wailing, the vested annoyance clutched my pants leg, yanking down hard. I hurriedly clawed at my belt, trying to keep my jeans on. But the little weirdo kept pulling, doing all in his power to stop me from leaving.

Finally shaking off his clinging hands, I hastily moved out of range, blushing furiously. "Because I—"

"I won't even ask fly this time, I promise!" Seeing how that argument wouldn't work, he moved to his next plea. "I won the last one, didn't I? Doesn't that entitle me to coming too?" He whimpered abruptly, hands flying up in a pleading gesture. "I promise to be good, really. I'll stay in the ship, I swear."

"You only decided to fight after I bribed you, and that hardly makes you a reliable ally." Despite the statement, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Well…he did win before…and it had been awfully nice to actually be on the triumphant side. Besides, if he didn't fly, how bad could it be?

"Alright, you can tag along," I relented, offering my hand to get him up. Squeaking in glee, Gack scuttled up the slick wing, a giant grin plastered on his face. However, when his upper body made the warning 'crush-you-with-love' motion, I hurriedly shoved him into the cockpit, ignoring his surprised shout. "None of that now, thank you. Buckle up."

"Aww, concerned with safety. See! It's working!" He wriggled to the passenger seat, buckling up as per orders. "You're slowly but surely converting to the side of good."

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to even go into the subject of concern or goodness. "No, I just…don't want a ticket." Finishing lamely, I made a vague gesture, checking the fuel levels. Not exactly full, but it'd do for the moment.

"That doesn't make sense," Gack frowned, trying to puzzle it out.

"It doesn't have to," I took hold of the controls, starting up the 'craft, and flashed him a wicked smile. "I'm an evil genius."

---

For how small she is, Kimiko is surprisingly strong.

The relatively tiny girl had, for what seemed like the umpteenth time, bodily flung me into the river. As soon as I had surfaced, I hurriedly paddled to the opposite bank, crawling ashore with a hacking cough. "Are you still grouchy about the 'Fugly' comment?" I asked her sourly, woozily rising up again as I tried to flick my hair in some semblance of order. It flipped back and smacked over my goggles, sending another wave of water down my face.

Taking a moment to glance around, I again sought the Wu we were all gathered for. It was a pretty bare scene; a few trees, a narrow, trickling waterfall, and a large pile of boulders from some long ago slide were all that was notable. In such a place, you'd think it would be ridiculously easy to detect an ancient and potent artifact of unspeakable power, wouldn't you?

Stupid dragon and his stupid hiding places.

But, ever to business, I looked back to Kimiko, wary of having my eyes off of the sneaky girl for more than a few moments.

She giggled in a decidedly school-girlish manner, striking what was meant to be an innocuous pose. "Ah, gee, no, Jack. Why would I be mad about that? You obviously have no taste in women, seeming as you're so very…" tittering, she fixed me with a sly, knowing smile, going straight for the kill. "Well, you know." Her tone was sweet, but the words were far from sugar and honey. I knew exactly what she meant.

It felt like my cheeks had caught on fire.

"Will everyone just stop questioning my sexuality?" The blush only intensified as I heard Raimundo snicker, and Omi's awkward questions as to what exactly the lone female monk had meant.

"Who's questioning?" The girl guffawed; flicking her newly-dyed blonde locks over one shoulder. "It's obvious enough with the way you hang all over Chase."

For a moment, all I could do was stutter (a nervous tic from childhood), eye twitching as I poorly expressed my incalculable rage. That seemed to only make the situation worse, as the monks drew their own conclusions from the lack of response. Fed up with my own embarrassment, I, very maturely, turned to the one logical method of dealing with such situations: I called her names. "Grow up, Oompa Loompa."

"Like you've got room to talk, you mime from hell!" Her hands balled into fists at her sides, back arching smoothly in her anger.

"What? I can't hear you from so far down there." I placed one hand around an ear, tipping forward as if trying very hard to listen. "And I think I'm getting 'PMS bitching' interference."

"Now, Spicer, that's no way to talk to a lady," Clay said quickly, putting up both hands to stop us. "Maybe we all just need to take a step back, now, and—"

But Kimiko was already on the attack, and I found myself rolling across the ground, an angry girl scratching at my face. I managed to jerk hard, sending the girl off of my chest. By the time I got onto my knees, she was already on her feet, hands incased in flame. "I'll show you PMS," She hissed, cocking back an arm for the first strike.

"Hey, now, save it for the Showdown." That angel of an American had gotten across the river, coming between us. "I'm all for rustlin' up Spicer, but we got a Wu to find. So just cool your heels there, Kimiko, and let's get this over with."

With a final death glare, she extinguished the flames, nonchalantly tossing her unnatural hair over a shoulder. "It's not worth it anyhow."

"Hey—" I began, flushed, surging up with an indignant gesture.

"Ah, Jackie; still having to be saved from nasty little girls?" the purr emitted from the left, and, dreading what was surely there, I looked.

"Wuya," I said by way of greeting, hostility tingeing the name with the aura of a disease. "You're looking particularly wrinkled today." We stared daggers at each other for a moment, her strange eyes filled with amusement as she sneered at my disheveled state. I was first to look away.

Laughing under her breath, the Heylin witch undulated from her reclining pose, serpentine in her movements, slinking to stand in the open. "Shouldn't you be crying to your mommy by now?" She retorted, placing one slender hand on her curvaceous hips.

I sneered; was that the best she could do? "I didn't know they let dogs out without their leashes." Then, spiteful at being reminded of a particularly stinging fact, "I thought Chase was all about cats."

She laughed, placing lithe fingertips against her lips to cover the bared fangs. "You're not in exactly a position to know anything about Chase Young, Jackie. Everyone knows he despises you, worthless little coward that you are."

I tried to hide how much that last insult had stung. But, I betrayed myself, face warming with a blush, hands clenching tight. I knew it was obvious; how could I hide it? But still, it was humiliating to have my fault with Chase so blatantly pointed out, right to my face. Whilst attempting to form a scathing retort, I found myself interrupted.

"She's got ya there, pardner" Bailey piped up, filling the void of peanut gallery. "He hates you more than a peg-legged racehorse on bumpy trails."

"Shut up, hick," I turned on him, looking for an excuse to get out of Wuya's firing range. The pithy adage was pathetic, honestly, but it still struck true to the heart of the matter. So, put on the defensive, I tried a misleading tactic. "He hates everyone, anyways."

It was doomed to fail.

"But he loathes you most of all," Kimiko snorted, folding her arms. Smug little bi—

"If I had your fashion sense, I wouldn't draw attention to myself, blondie." Responding flatly to the statement, I felt my shoulders rise defensively, despite my best effort to appear in charge. "You look like a cheap something you'd find in a back street of Detroit, if you know what I mean." Her affronted screech was well worth whatever pain she was going to dish out in a moment.

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

In disbelief, we all turned to where Gack was sitting under the clunky aircraft, perfectly at ease. At the incredulous looks he was being given, he sank somewhat lower, as if just realizing he had spoken. "Erm…"

"Wonderful; there are two of you again." Wuya rolled her eyes, disdain clear in her tone. "As if the world weren't already full of morons."

"Why don't you sho—" a deafening rumble cut off my jibe, followed swiftly by earth-shaking crashes as the rock pile slide from its former location, boulders crushing the sparse vegetation. I blinked rapidly, forgetting myself as I gaped at the spectacle, not paying any attention at my one-time ally. A foolish move, had she not been similarly distracted.

"Found it!" Omi grinned broadly from his perch atop the shifted rock pile, a pair of golden gloves in his hands. Black lightening motifs criss-crossed over its front, forming an abstract pattern that dazzled the eyes. "The Lightning Hands are now ours, my friends."

Trust the puffball to be the only one on task.

Wuya and I exchanged a glance of understanding. It would be hopeless with one Heylin, but together, we had a shot. At once, we nodded, and struck while they were diverted from keeping a watch on us.

"Jack-bots, attack!" I commanded, already sprinting past a very surprised pair of Xiaolin dragons. Across the expanse of babbling water, green flame roared to life, blocking Raimundo from coming to the aid of his companions…for the moment, anyhow.

Omi was trying to stuff his tiny hands into the Shen Gong Wu, caught unawares as both Wuya and myself reached him. As soon as the Lightning Hands left his grasp, the brief partnership was over, leaving the witch and myself fighting like two mongrels over a scrap of meat, the monk caught between us.

"Let go, you stupid, foolish boy!"

"Crazy – umph – old hag!" I yanked as hard as I could, kicking out as we rolled down the slope of rocks. Bruises were already forming on my body, cuts springing open in bright slashes of color, but I could hardly stop the plummet to worry about them.

"Ignorant child," Wuya scratched at my face, scoring a shallow mark across one cheek. Yelping, I lurched away, only to hit the unrelenting ground first, the other two landing on top of me a heartbeat later.

"Hey!" I vainly tried to grab hold of the Lightning Hands, shoving at a dazed Omi.

As the nearly unconscious dragon impeded me, it left Wuya free to rise to her feet, sliding the rather heavy looking gloves onto her own hands. Her evil laugh was positively grating, but she pulled it off rather well, pointing her metal-encased fingers at my head. "I guess this is good-bye, my boy."

Before I even had a chance to scream, Wuya was knocked off her feet, landing on the ground awkwardly. In disbelief, she sputtered at the most wonderful person I had ever met (for the moment).

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry!" Gack apologized hastily, remorse evident by his expression. "I didn't think I'd actually knock you over."

While the witch still tried to grapple with the fact she had been caught unawares by such a nimrod, I managed to get a currently-struggling Omi off, kicking at her torso. "Quit with the Mother Goose routine and get the Wu!"

"Right, right," Gack grabbed Wuya's hands, pulling hard. The Heylin hag snapped out of her stupor, dragging him back.

"Let go, you little abomination!"

"Well now, that's not very nice."

Seeing them thus embattled, and figuring I could do nothing to aid the attempt, I whirled to the monks, intent on keeping them from interfering. Raimundo was making his move, diving straight at the struggling mass of redhead. I went for him first, throwing the most abundant thing I had on hand.

The rather heavy stone clonked him right in the temple, sending the dragon of wind into the ground. He skidded, bouncing high twice, before lying quite still. Immediately, I felt something akin to panic nearly choke off my throat. I didn't like the guy, but I didn't want to kill him!

I hadn't really expected that to work.

Beside me, Omi gasped, crying out the name of his friend. Almost shocked, I turned to face him, while he was distracted, and punted him hard, hoping he would fly much like a soccer ball. Amusingly, he did. I looked back to Pedrosa, and was utterly relieved when he groaned in misery, hands twitching feebly.

It was a short-lived sensation.

"Spicer, you low down snake in the grass!" Clay came at my with both arms out, rage clear in his roar. I scrambled back, ducking under the outstretched limbs to dive behind a rock. Looking back, it wasn't the wisest of moves.

The boulder trembled, lifting of its own accord into the air. I shrieked and dove aside, clipped by the barest of margins by its massive bulk as it slammed down where I had just been. "Holy hell!" I tripped all over myself in a klutzy tumble, narrowly dodging the next blow.

"Arrow Sparrow - fire!" I yelped in pain as the little birds detonated at my feet, sending me on a hopeless flight to the top of the rock pile.

Thus surrounded with potential weapons, I panicked.

I shoved off with one hand, and slid down the other side in a clattering jumble of stone and dust; I wasn't about to hang around at the top like a sitting goose. As I made my impromptu escape, the mound swelled upward, bolstered by the monk's will. Unable to longer control the descent, I merely attempted to slow it, tweaking my left ankle and wrists in the process. Jarringly striking the very bottom on a shoulder, I tottered to my feet, staggering back. Pain immediately flared to crippling life, and I reeled sideways, dizzy.

What appeared to be a mace made entirely of ice smashed the ground before my feet.

"You killed Raimundo!" Omi screeched, swinging his Wudai weapon again.

I fell back, dancing about to avoid the wicked instrument of suffering. "No! No – eek! – he's just – hey! For the love of- He's just knocked out!" Tripping over my own feet, I fell to the ground before the tiny terror; cowering as the mace was lifted high, ready to cave in my cranium. By the wonderful, merciful will of some god, Omi paused, uncertain.

"…Only knocked out?" Suspicious, he didn't lower the transformed Shimo staff, but his expression slowly softened. I nodded vehemently, too afraid to try scooting back.

"Yeah, knocked out." While it seemed like my tail was saved, I flicked my eyes up, willing for someone to come to my aid.

In the idiosyncratic, dreadful way life so often treats me, I was bitterly disappointed in that regard. Kimiko and Bailey appeared over the crest of the pile, grim in appearance, Wudai weapons at their sides. I gulped, reading all-too-well their intent by the ominous expressions written across their faces.

Luckily, the world decided to dissolve in that moment.

The entire area was turned topsy-turvy, the surrounding earth broken into separate cylinders of dirt and rock, suspended in the air. Wildly, forgetting the fundamentals of the battle, I looked around, certain I had been slain and this was some strange limbo. But no; the monks stood together on a separate platform, tending to a bemused, foolishly grinning Raimundo. Still, Kimiko tossed a look that easily could have sent me screaming for the hills had I not been on a floating island above nothingness.

"Gong Yi Tampai!"

I watched Gack dip aside as Wuya struck out with her fist, thus gaining the advantage as she jumped over the void, to the next platform. A race, then. Disheartened, I watched them go along, Wuya gaining a steady lead. She'd always been good a races, much to my chagrin.

However, I soon realized my other half was catching up.

Sitting up from my nearly fetal position, I felt a silly grin start up. Man, he was good at Showdowns! Luckier than he had any right to be, honestly, given the previous track record.

I was about to shout out approval, but decided against it, since the monks were distracted; I really didn't want to remind them of my existence yet. Hey, sometimes prudence is a good idea.

…There's really nowhere to flee to when you're standing over a void.

So, silently encouraging, I watched as Gack pulled ahead, much to the witch's mortification. The end was fast approaching, and….

"Watch out!" I suddenly shouted, wincing at the sudden motion of my wrist. Gah, I hope that's not fractured. Cradling the limb to my chest, I lurched upward, in horror, as Wuya lashed out with her Wu, the Thorn of Thunderbolt.

Gack dropped to the ground, the attack passing harmlessly over his head.

Meanwhile, Wuya reached the next platform, and stretched out for the Lightning Hands, manically 'laughing'. It sounded awful, really. She has no class.

"Eye of Dashi!"

In a flash, Wuya fell through, screaming out at the unexpectedly underhanded technique. Gack jumped across the divide, grabbing hold of the twin Wu just as they toppled toward the abyss.

The world wobbled once more, and we again stood across from our enemies – plus one miffed Heylin witch.

Breathless, Gack cradled the prizes to his chest, grinning. "Wow, did you see — what's with all the gloomy faces?" He blinked rapidly, elation fast fading, glancing between the two sides.

I nervously eyed the assorted dragons, inwardly cringing. Okay, so I hadn't actually meant to hit Pedrosa quite like that. Just to peg him, to distract him. But I could hardly admit it without seriously bringing my evilness into question – especially with Wuya there. I'd never have lived it down. Thus, I kept silent, trying to keep guilt from my expression as I regarded the still-dazed dragon of wind. The sneer was difficult to keep in place when the purple bruise was revealed.

In all honesty, I wanted to ask how he was, apologize, even; but I could hardly do that. Instead I gave a sarcastic snort, and peevishly growled, "What, he's alive, isn't he?"

Their expressions had me mentally kicking myself.

There was an awkward, hostile silence, dragging on for what seemed forever. Their eyes were so…accusing. I flinched slightly, looking away from those icy stares. To end it all, I grabbed Gack's arm, hauling him back. Gruffly, I told him, "It's nothing."

"See you at the next Showdown, Jack." The Tohomiko girl's voice was not unlike a snake hiss; cold, calculating, and utterly petrifying.

I tried to hide the shudder as the monks departed overhead.

My life sucks.

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