I just realized I haven't done a single disclaimer for the entire story…

/shot

DISCLAIMER: I OWN EVERYTHING. IN MY DREAMS.

Now that counts for the entire story, got it?

MAX
Naruto
Sunagakure

"Shut up before I rip you out of my brain and feed you to a Blast-Ended Skrewt," I smiled brightly.

"P-pardon?" asked the man at the desk, now looking thoroughly terrified.

I snarled at him. "Up yours, four-eyes!"

I spun on my heel and made for the exit.

"Wait!" Naruto lunged and grabbed my wrist, but I wheeled and karate-chopped him. This guy may be a ninja or whatever, but I know enough about pressure points to make his fingers involuntarily spring open. And then, pulling the most idiotic stunt ever, I lifted off in the middle of a crowded street.

But I mean, really, what more could go wrong?

With the life I lead? Everything, of course. Why would I even ask that question? I'm jinxing myself, totally. Just asking for the universe to screw with me. Not literally. But I just knew that a giant flying alligator is going to swoop down now and attack me with a pink polka-dotted spork.

Or, possibly, I could be smashed into a wall by a body shooting through the air at top speed while I coasted over the roof of a building. That could happen, too.

Voice, why does my life suck so hard? I asked, resigning myself to the situation. Apparently the Voice had no answer, so I sighed and picked myself up to look at my attacker, trying to ignore the fact that I could literally feel the bruises blooming all over my left side where I swear that brick wall buckled under the force of my being flung at it.

He looked exactly the same as he always did. Tall, muscular, mid-teens. Not quite bald, but an extremely short buzz cut, scalp crisscrossed with scars. All the damage I'd inflicted on him may as well not have happened – it had healed already. His golden eyes glinted in the pounding sunlight, but they were completely blank. In fact, his entire face was void of emotion. There was no hint on his face, or in the way he held himself, that said he was angry at me for beating the living crap out of him a couple weeks previously.

"Epsilon!" I held out my arms like I was offering a hug. "Long time no attack! How you been, buddy?"

"Experiment 204," he said coldly.

"That is one of my aliases, yes," I said. "I'm so glad you remember."

"Your positive reception of me is illogical," he said.

"Remember that sarcasm thing we talked about?"

"Yes. I have very extensive memory," he said robotically.

"That's good to know," I rolled my eyes. "Look, did you come here to chit-chat, or to fight? Because I really want to beat someone up right now."

He cocked his head. I noticed that he hadn't yet dropped into a fighting stance.

"I have, in fact… come to… chit-chat," he said, with an odd expression on his face, like he wasn't quite sure about what he was saying.

"Really! Well, let me give you a hint – throwing someone into a wall? Not a great conversation starter," I snapped.

"I merely sought to attract your attention."

"Oh, you're such a flirt," I said through gritted teeth. "What exactly do you want to talk about? I don't exactly have much time, you know."

I glanced back where I came from. Sure enough, an orange speck was bouncing my way already.

"I have come to request your assistance," he blurted. I stared at him.

"Um, why don't we take this under cover?" I suggested cautiously, and leapt down from the roof. Without hesitation, he followed my behind a dumpster.

FANG
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
The Magic Shop

"It's kind of cool, actually," he said slowly. "In a Harry Potter kind of way." And then, because he couldn't resist –"book seven, by the way – I cried."

Buffy looked confused, and opened her mouth to request clarification, but she was interrupted as a person burst through the door.

"Sorry I'm late! There wasn't any traffic, I just didn't want to get out of bed," said the newcomer.

"Anya," Giles barked. "It's time for you to man the cash register. I have business to attend to."

"Business? What, like having a nice chat with Buffy?" the woman – Anya – sidled over to the checkout counter, pushing past a disgruntled looking customer. "Cash register? Ooh, money!"

"Hi, Anya, this is Fang," said Buffy. "Fang, this is Anya. She's Xander's girlfriend."

"Oh, you've met Xander?" Anya smiled happily. "We totally had sex last night."

Fang blinked. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Oooo-kayyy," said Buffy finally.

Giles shot Anya the Look (remarkably similar to Max's) and when that went unnoticed, grit his teeth and sighed.

Buffy flounced forward, dragging Fang along with her.

"Is she always like that?" Fang muttered.

"Oh yeah, all the time," Buffy nodded.

Giles led them into a back room. Said back room was surprisingly quite normal – or, that is to say, Fang felt comfortable in it. He didn't feel like the one lilac in a field of daisies.

…okay, bad metaphor.

More like… raven in a flock of seagulls. There. That works.

Anyways, it was a workout room. But it was more than just a workout room. It was a room containing everything you could possibly need to condition yourself to kick major ass. We're talking knives, swords, axes, throwing stars, a bench press, gym mats, tranquilizer guns, weird hook things, and even a few cans of Mace.

Like, whoah. My element.

"This is Fang," Buffy introduced. "Fang, this is Giles."

"So, ah, forgive me if this strikes you as rude," Giles began, removing his glasses and polishing them on his shirt. "But, ah, what are you, precisely?"

"He's a mutant," Buffy supplied before Fang had even had a chance to open his mouth. "Part bird."

"2% bird," Fang added. Giles's eyebrows arched as he examined him over his spectacles.

"2%? And that results in… what physical attributes?"

Again with the lack of reaction! "Feathers," said Fang wryly. Giles seemed to catch his drift.

"Ah."

"So, anyways, Fang has a little problem," Buffy continued, and then looked at Mr. Two-percent-bird expectantly.

"I don't know how I got here," Fang said, realizing as he said it how stupid it sound. "I mean, I wasn't here before. I was somewhere else. Have you heard of the Lord of the Rings?"

"Of course," Giles polished his spectacles again. "Yes, of course I have."

"Well, I was there."

"Reading it?" Giles frowned.

"No, I mean I was there there. In person," said Fang. Giles looked skeptical. "No, really, I'm serious."

Giles got a faraway look in his eyes. "I think… I may have heard of something… something similar… I need my books…"

"Book away," said Buffy. "Does this mean we're in research mode?"

"W – well… yes, I would say so," said Giles. "I think I have just the volume…"

He disappeared into yet another back room and came out several seconds later supporting half a dozen thick, dusty books.

"You're going to have to tell me everything."

IGGY AND ANGEL
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Full Moon Bay

"Next!" shouted the burly, apish woman at the front desk.

"Hello," said Aang. "Six tickets for the ferry to Ba Sing Se, please."

"Passports," the woman said robotically.

"Uh… no one told us we needed to have passports," Aang said in a panicky voice.

"Don't you know who this is?" Sokka said loudly. "He's the Avatar!"

"Bah! I see fifty Avatars a day," the woman at the desk scoffed. "And by the way, not a very impressive costume."

She pointed a finger and Angel noticed that there were about a dozen people dressed in varying degrees of similarity to Aang bumming around, looking dejected.

"Besides," the woman added, indicating Momo. "No animals allowed. Do I need to call security?"

She pointed at 'security'. Aang took one look at what looked like a mixture between a platypus and a bear (was Itex messing around here, too, or were all the animals just that freaky?) was all he needed to shrink back and assure her security wouldn't be necessary.

"Next," the woman shouted again.

"Work your whammy, Ange," Iggy hissed so no one else could hear.

"I can't!" she hissed back. "It hurts like a word Max would murder me in my sleep for saying!"

"I'll take care of this," Toph stepped lazily up to the woman and slammed a piece of paper on the counter.

"My name is Toph Bei Fong and I'll need six tickets," she said confidently.

Angel recognized the expression sliding over the woman's face as she looked at the paper. It was that eager-to-please, butt-kisser look that Angel couldn't stand.

"The golden seal of the flying boar!" she gasped and initiated a little bow. "It is my pleasure to help anyone of the Bei Fong family."

"It is your pleasure," said Toph obnoxiously (that obnoxiousness was definitely on purpose). "As you can see, I'm blind, and these five imbeciles are my valets."

Aang, Sokka, Katara, Iggy, and Angel all smiled as sweetly as possible.

"But, the animal - "

"Is my seeing eye lemur," Toph finished.

"Well, normally it's only one ticket per passport, but this document is so official…" the woman thought for a moment. "I guess it's worth six tickets."

She stamped six tickets.

"Thank you very much," Toph reached up to the counter again and slid the tickets off.

"Who are you, like Chuck Norris's cousin or something?" Iggy said with wonder as they walked away. "Because I think Chuck Norris's cousin could probably have gotten away with that."

"No. I'm just rich," Toph shrugged.

"Alright! We scammed that lady good!" Sokka said loudly.

Without warning a hand shot out and grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him away.

"Tickets and passports, please," said yet another woman. Except this one was more like a girl – she couldn't have been older than seventeen. She was wearing a guard's uniform. She held out her hand and glared.

"Uh… is there a problem?" Sokka said nervously.

"Smooth," said Total from his bag.

"Yeah, I gotta problem with you," the girl snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I've seen your type before. Probably sarcastic, think you're hilarious, and – let me guess – you're travelling with the Avatar."

Sokka screwed up his face.

"…do I know you?" he asked.

"You mean you don't remember?" the girl said angrily. "Maybe you'll remember this!"

For a split second, Angel thought the girl was going to attack him, but instead she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"Suki!" Sokka grinned goofily and jumped to hug her.

"Sokka, it's good to see you!" 'Suki' said brightly, pulling back.

"Who's this?" Toph said icily. Sokka, unfazed by her tone, wheeled around and shoved Suki in front of him by the shoulders.

"Toph, Jeff, Angie – this is Suki! Suki, this is Toph, Jeff, and Angie," Sokka said.

"And me," came a muffled voice from Sokka's direction.

"What did you say?" Suki asked.

"I didn't – this is Total," Sokka fished around in his backpack and withdrew a pissed-off looking dog.

"Yo," said Total darkly. Suki literally jumped back.

"Woah," she leaned forward again and poked his forehead. "You can talk?"

"Why, yes, I can," Total said, apparently very pleased that someone had asked 'you can talk?' for once, and not 'it talks?' or 'you have a dog that talks?'. It was easy to tell he found it very empowering.

"Get down," Sokka hissed, cramming the winged dog back down into the backpack. "Maybe we should find a more private place to talk."

Suki blinked. "Oh – right. There are waiting rooms over here. Follow me."

NUDGE AND THE GASMAN
Harry Potter
Malfoy Manor

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" said Scabior. Gazzy tried to place his accent. It was like a mix between Scottish, very lower-class English, and cockney, with a bit of Australian thrown in for good measure. He was already memorizing the patterns. It would be fun to try and imitate Scabior. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am - "

A wand changed possession. There was a pause.

"Bring them in," said the woman.

"What is this?"

It was a man. He had long, straight, white-blonde hair, and probably was posh at one point; now, though, his eyes were bloodshot and stubble lay thick on his face.

"They say they've got Potter," said the woman. Nudge thought they looked similar. "Draco, come here."

Draco looked similar, as well. This Draco was pale and also had white-blonde hair. His face was slightly sunken, and his pale skin was stretched tightly across his face. Nudge wouldn't be surprised if they were all three related. Draco stood in front of Harry and stared at him blankly, while Harry determinedly looked to the side.

"Well, boy?" Greyback demanded. Bits of spittle flew and hit Nudge on the face. She glared and wiped her cheek on her shoulder as best she could.

"Well, Draco?" the blonde man repeated. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't – I can't be sure," said Draco.

Nudge could tell he was lying. All her life she'd been lied to and deceived, and it would take an expert to convince any of the Flock of a lie. This won't hurt a bit… if you're a good experiment, you'll get lunch tomorrow… all children live like this, of course… just one more blood sample… just one more mile… just one more bone scraping… one more of this, one more of that… don't be silly, I'll never leave…

He was looking anywhere but at Harry. He knew it was Harry, he just didn't want to admit it to himself, because something really bad would happen if he was wrong.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" the blonde-haired man prompted Draco closer. "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv - "

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback interrupted scathingly.

"Of course not, of course not," said Mr. Malfoy – the blonde man. "What did you do to him How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us," said Greyback.

"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," Mr. Malfoy observed. He narrowed his eyes. "There's something there. It could be the scar, stretched right… Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Draco fidgeted nervously. "I don't know," he said, and turned to walk towards the fireplace.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," said the woman. "Completely sure that it is Potter before we call the Dark Lord… they say this is his," she twirled Harry's want in her fingers. "But it does not resemble Ollivander's description… if we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback said. The prisoners were jolted to the side so that the light fell instead on Hermione.

"Wait," said the woman. "Yes – yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

Draco didn't looked doubtful, but rather unenthusiastic. "I… maybe… yeah."

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" said Mr. Malfoy excitedly. "It's them, Potter's friends – Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name - ?"

"Yeah… it could be."

There was the banging sound of a door being thrown open and Nudge turned her head to see a woman walk in. Her first thought was: she's definitely crazy. The woman's fashion sense could only be described as that of a conservative hooker, and her jet-black, streaked-with-gray hair was so wild Nudge was surprised it stayed on her head.

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" the crazy-haired lady demanded. She walked slowly up to the prisoners and stopped in front of Hermione. Her eyes widened. "But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

ITEX

"Wow," Jackson's eyes were wide as saucers. She tapped the computer screen, as if that would make the message change.

"What is it?" Tessorori asked. The two of them were alone in the room. During daylight hours, they took shifts to observe the experiment's reactions, and they were both on duty. Jackson was practically always on duty, since she was the only one who could read the code fluently. In fact, the second person in the shift was mostly there for company.

"It's Epsilon. He's behaving… strangely," Jackson said.

"How strangely?"

"He's trying to befriend Experiment 204," Jackson glanced at him. "Look, see?"

Tessorori crossed the room and cast his eyes down at the screen. The background was completely black, and an incomprehensible pattern of letters and numbers scrolled up it like the beginning of a Star Wars movie.

He scowled. "I can't read this."

He was beginning to recognize some patterns in the code. He knew what letters represented girl, which numbers represented explosion, simple things like that, but Jackson could read it like a book. No – easier than a book. It was more like she was watching a movie. He supposed she did invent the mathematical theory behind the entire thing, but it was still unnatural, especially considering Jackson was like a Barbie. Your stereotypical ditzy dumb blonde in regular conversation, but really a complete and utter genius.

"There, see?" she pointed at a chunk of code. "Something about forgiveness. He wants her to accept him, because he knows we ditched him."

She glanced up at him expectantly.

"This can't be happening," Tessorori muttered. Epsilon couldn't be befriending an avian – the Director would retire him for sure. "We have to fix this."

"Well, we don't know if she'll accept him or not," Jackson shrugged her shoulders loosely and offered him a bright smile. "I mean, hopefully not, because if she actually trusts him? That's one stupid move."

Tessorori wanted to snap at her, tell her not to suggest that his son was untrustworthy, but logic held him back.

"You're right," he said. "You're right. We're just going to have to – for lack of a better phrase – wing it on this one."

"I hope it turns out alright," Jackson sighed wistfully. "Kidd poured his heart and soul into Epsilon. If it has to be retired, he'll have a fit."

"Right," Tessorori muttered bitterly, turning around and pacing the floor. "Kidd will be devastated for sure."