Title: To Live Another Day
Author: Kate's Master, aka Emma
Summery: Obligatory response to the end of series two. Will be followed by some form of angsty oneshot, no doubt. Ten ways she lived. Many crossovers, verrry odd. Read at your peril. Spoilers galore.
Disclaimer: Alas, still, not mine. I can claim the strange little stooped man, and that's about it…

Author's Notes: Sorry! I got caught up in a lovely pile of exams and revision, which, for some reason, I had to put before my writing…don't ask me why. But I'm back now, for a short while, so this will be finished!

Anyone else heard the rumours that Lucy Griffiths is "in talks" with the BBC Hopes very hard

My thanks to those who took the time to review last chapter: AngelsShadow816, Homeric, Zetta and LoonyLover. Apologises to you especially for the wait!

4. Crossover with Frankenstein…no doubt Robin would nominate Marian as a willing test subject…

Lightening flashed through the night sky, picking out the stark landscape in plain, sharp outlines. Tonight was not a night to be out and about – anyone with half a teaspoon of sense was safely indoors, huddled round fires or in bed.

But in the darkness, far away from anyone and anything beyond the world itself, someone was laughing. It was not a good laugh. It cackled and shrieked and coiled around the large room, seeking out the shadowy corners and draughty rafters, echoing far longer than was normal.

The origin of the laugh did not disappoint – a small person, who had successfully halved his height by training himself a fairly spectacular stoop. As the laugh finally began to fade away, he began to dart around, twisting bits of metal and occasionally banging on a large wooden box that took pride of place in the centre of the room. A long metal rod, that looked as though it had been made by bits of butchered armoury, stretched out of the box up into the ceiling, and, presumably, out onto the roof.

In front of the box was a long, wooden table, built to specific requirements by Will Scarlett. And on top of the table lay…a body. But at the same time, not a body. Body would imply that the person it had once been was now dead – gone, at rest, deceased – and yet, with this particular body, there was something unerringly…lively…about it.

Although her – for it was very evidently a female body – chest did not move, and although, if you listened, you would hear no heart beat, there was something fluid about the stillness of the fallen woman.

"It is ready?"

A voice, dripping with desire and worry and the never ceasing wonder of hope, spoke into the flickering darkness.

"It is ready." cackled the little man. "Once we have the…the right conditions…then…she shall live."

"You are sure? Properly, truly?"

"She will live as much has she ever did before. It will be like waking from a sleep…a long, long sleep…"

If he were thinking straight, Robin might have thought to wonder why the little man could be so sure of this, since this was the first experiment of its kind ever conducted. But there was something so…so mad about his companion, as though madness itself had turned away from him, that was oddly reassuring. A mad man could think up this device. Only one who had toppled over the edge of madness and into the deep, swirly mess of whatever lay beyond could make it work.

And work it did.

Lightening flashed outside, and, a moment later, the metal rod seemed to light up, crackling with a strange energy. It flowed into the box and back out again, lighting up the still woman with an uneerie glow. For a few moments, there was nothing but the crackle of the strange light and the heavy breathing of the little man.

And then she twitched. Her fingers curled and uncurled, trying to grip something that wasn't there.

"You see! You see!" the little man was beside himself with excitement. "She lives!"

Robin didn't hear him. The moment the crackling energy had faded he had rushed to her side, anxiously studying Marian's face for any sign of life. Three months ago, she had died. Two months ago, as they crossed the desert countries on the way home, the remaining members of Robin Hood's gang had heard of the strange little man, seeking someone willing to donate a dead body in aid of science. Once Robin worked out exactly what the man hoped to achieve, there was no stopping him. They had returned, exhumed Marian's body, prayed to whatever god that would listen that it would remain suitable for life over the following weeks, and sought out the scientist.

It was both terrifying and exhilarating, the feeling of watching history itself being rewritten in front of them – for they were all there, of course. Djaq, torn between her protests at the wrongness of the procedure, her admiration for the little man's genius and her desire to see their friend wake; Will, quiet, solemn, seeing all and understanding most; John, uncomfortable with the complexities of the experiment but understanding, perhaps best of all, the pain of separation from them you loved; Allan, determined to do anything to prove his loyalties; and Much, who simply wanted to see his Master happy.

From the shadows, where they had waited all evening, accepting that tonight was for their leader alone, they watched.

Watched him slowly take her hand, watched him smile a strangely nervous smile they had never seen on him before…watched her smile back.

For him, she lived. Always.

At this point, most of you have probably realised…I've never read, seen or heard the proper story of Frankenstein, I've just used a few of the best known clichés for this. My apologises to any true fans of the tale.

Anyway, there're still another six to go…hopefully up in the next couple of weeks! Thanks for reading!