by
Claire, Temaris. Lillith is currently offline.
Summary:
Assistologists are an over-worked, underappreciated breed, so, once a year, under the guidance of their revered Leader, the Institute of Assistologists (Formerly the Guild of Sidekicks, Bimbos and beautiful Companions), takes a weekend off. Away from the pain, mayhem and unending excitement that is their day-to-day lives, to enjoy a peaceful get together with their colleagues and fellow adventurers in the journey that is the sidekick's.
This then, is *their* story.
Notes:
Bizarrely enough, this started at one con, and ended just after another. Does it show?
Five tubs of ice cream are *always* better than one.
Dedicated to The Family.
Cordelia Chase looked around the lobby of the massive hotel, wondering why the patterns on the wallpaper looked like the curse in that book Wesley had been trying to translate. The only explanation she could come up with was one she wasn't prepared to run with. She wasn't about to spoil her first weekend off in ages by discovering that Vegas was actually run by demons. Mind you, since Vegas was the most affluent state, it obviously meant that these demons had good money sense.
Hmm... She absently wondered they had any eligible bachelors among them. And then she mentally hit herself. She wasn't going to think about demons this weekend. Wasn't going to think about demons, vampires and rogue demon hunters who got themselves invited to the 23rd Annual Good Guys (TM) convention when she still hadn't been upgraded from Assistologist. She also wasn't going to think about vampire hunters who technically should have been at the Assistologists' convention, but snuck into the Good Guy (TM) convention hoping that they could seduce said rogue demon hunter. She sighed. If The Powers That Be were going to give her these crippling visions, then they could at least give her an upgrade. It wasn't really a problem, except the Assistologists' official T-shirt came in green, and she really suited the Good Guys (TM) blue T-shirt much better – it tended to bring out her eye colour. Oh well, like she said, she wasn't going to think about that this weekend.
Picking up her bag, she walked over to the reception. "Hi, Cordelia Chase, I should have a reservation."
The woman behind the desk, her name badge declared her 'Cherie', checked the computer. "Ah yes, Ms Chase, here you are." Picking up a small plastic card, she inserted it into the computer and typed something, waiting until the machine beeped before she removed it. "Here's your room key, Ms Chase. You're in room 1015. If I can just get you to sign here?" She handed over a form.
Cordelia looked down at it, hoping this wasn't going to make her responsible for paying the room bill. Blair had promised on the invitation that it was all expenses paid, which was the only reason she was here. There was no way she could afford a weekend in Vegas, staying at Caesar's Arboretum, if she had to pay it herself.
Cherie, sensing her hesitation like the SuperReceptionist (TM) that she was, smiled encouragingly. "It's only to confirm that you've arrived. The block booking is being paid for at the end of the weekend."
Reassured, Cordelia took the pen off Cherie and signed her name.
"Please enjoy your stay, Ms Chase. And if you need anything don't hesitate to contact us." Cherie handed over the room key.
Taking the key, Cordelia hefted her bag back onto her shoulder and headed over to the elevators, mentally sighing when she saw the other woman standing there.
Dana Scully looked at Cordelia as she stood next to her, waiting for the lifts. "Cordelia," she nodded politely.
"Dana," Cordy replied coolly, rather proud of the fact that she'd refrained from commenting that no woman that short should wear a power suit with shoulder pads, it made her look like a gnome. One with thick ankles. She wasn't sure why she didn't like Scully all that much. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that when the two women had met, Scully had commented that there was obviously a scientific explanation for Cordelia's visions, and maybe the younger woman just had a form of delusional epilepsy. She did respect her, however. After all, Cordelia had met Fox Mulder, and anyone that could put up with a Good Guy (TM) that annoying deserved a medal.
Finally the lift arrived and the two of them stepped inside. Cordelia went to push the button for the tenth floor, just managing to hide her grimace when her finger hit Scully's.
"Ten?" Scully asked.
Cordelia nodded.
"Me too. I'm in 1013."
"1015," Cordy supplied. She just hoped the rooms didn't have adjoining doors.
The ten floor journey was ridden in silence and the elevator finally chimed, opening the doors and releasing them onto the requested floor.
Stepping off the lift, Cordelia counted off the room numbers until she came to hers. Swiping the key through the lock, she frowned when the light remained red. She tried again. Nothing happened. "Grr..." she growled, swiping it through for a third time, catching her nail and chipping the varnish. "Argh!" Finally, the light turned green and Cordelia opened the door and walked inside. Her jaw dropped.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't we come here last year?"
"We couldn't afford it," came a voice from behind her.
Cordelia spun around. "Jesse!"
"Hey, Cordy." Jesse Travis walked into the room and enveloped Cordy in a hug, which was quite impressive, considering he was shorter than she was. "I'm glad you made it."
"Like I was going to miss this weekend," Cordelia scoffed.
Jesse grinned and gazed around her hotel suite. "Nice, aren't they? You have to try the Jacuzzi/whirlpool they've installed in all the rooms," he enthused, dragging her over to into the bedroom and over to the en suite bathroom.
Cordelia barely had time to take in the ornate four-poster bed that had to be big enough for about six-people (suddenly she knew exactly why the Assistologist Guild had chosen this hotel) before being confronted by the most over decorated bathroom she had ever seen.
The bath in question was shaped like a clam-shell with the upper half draping over the bath like a canopy. Taps that looked like they were solid gold but when she scraped one gentle with a fingernail turned out to be badly painted gilt. Not that she'd considered unscrewing one and smuggling it home with her. Big fluffy towels hung neatly on a heated rack and next to the wash basin was the largest selection of complementary toiletries she'd seen outside Buffy's bathroom cabinet.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Jesse was practically bouncing in his flip-flops.
"Yeah... great." Cordelia forced a smile onto her face. She was a member of Angel Investigations, who faced danger equally alongside her friends (despite the opinion of The Powers That Be) she could survive a weekend in the garish environment of a Las Vegas hotel.
She dragged Jesse back out to the living area of her room and put him to work carrying her bags into the bedroom. "So what's the plans for this weekend?" she asked as she examined her chipped nail varnish hoping she'd remembered to pack that colour.
"Well... I've already seen Penfold organising the bowling teams." Jesse wheezed, beginning to pull Cordelia's sixth and final large suitcase into the room. "Are you really going to wear all those clothes?" he asked, sliding down the wall into a small quivering heap on the floor.
Cordelia afforded him The Look (variant 295: men and clothes... sheesh!) (TM) and started rummaging around one of the bags for her nail file. "Anything else exciting?"
"Trust me, it'll work perfectly, Rommie," Harper's tenor insisted as Blair arrived in the slot machines area. He could only see Harper's feet and butt protruding from behind the Jackpot! Every Dollar wins a Dollar!, which seemed pretty unlikely, all things considered, unless they meant the house won a dollar, and...
Blair kicked himself. It was so hard to remember he didn't have to babble away – he got so few days off. "Hey Seamus, how's things?" He peered into the dark space between the wall and the machine, trying to see what the engineer was up to.
"Oh, hey, Blair!" Harper scrambled out and they hugged. "I'm in!" He slanted a grin at his friend, "Rommie doesn't approve, but when did that ever stop anyone?"
Blair laughed. "Can I see?"
"Sure," Harper froze for a moment as his uplink seized control of the slot machine. His eyes opened and he pressed a couple of the big buttons, then slammed the big lever down.
Ka-Ching!
Money poured out of the throat of the machine as the lights flashed in psychedelic display.
"Jackpot!" it cried, and Harper high fived Blair.
"Outstanding, chief," Penfold grinned up at them both, before standing on tiptoe to peer into the bucket. "Now, you're both coming bowling tonight, aren't you?"
"Yup!"
"I will if I can get away from the Good Guys convention (TM)." Blair sighed. It was all very well only using your Powers For Good (TM) for good, but really, the amount of times he needed to be in two places at once he was starting to develop a split personality.
"Hey, yeah man, when are you getting here?"
Blair shrugged, "Got to hold Jim's hand through the whole Velcro gun thing—"
"Still can't believe you got that past TPTB," called Rick, as he hurried past, "I never could get Thomas to go for it."
"Love the shirt," Harper called back. Rick just grinned and disappeared into the bar area.
Blair started scooping money up from the floor. "I'll go get this credited to the account."
"I'll keep pumping the cash through," Harper grinned at him, fondling his uplink happily.
Screams in the distance made both their heads snap around.
"It's okay," Blair reassured Harper, "Remember, it's our one weekend off a year. We can ignore the screams. Live with the screaming." They smiled at each other and completed the mantra together: "We are one with the fucking screaming."
"Help!!!" A woman came shrieking through the casino and kept running, hurdling the bucket and disappearing out the kitchen doors at the back. The sound of crashing kitchenware and the swearing of the staff rose in painful counterpoint, seconds later.
The three Assistologists stared after her, then turned, as one, to look back the way she had come.
"Oh shit," said Blair, quietly.
"Seconded," Harper agreed.
"Crumbs, chief," Penfold said, shocked into his work-a-day swearwords.
A pack of demons was striding into the room, scattering patrons and Assistologists alike. Harper dived behind the slot machine, yanking desperately at the uplink connection. It had taken hours to get a working interface, and wasn't this just fucking typical. Sometimes he suspected Dylan of siccing Fate on him. And sometimes, he knew he was being silly, and paranoid – Dylan would never do that to him. It had to be Beka.
Blair vanished. Harper shook his head. It was all very well splitting yourself in two to get everything done that a demanding Hero (TM) expected, but there were drawbacks. At least this time the wave function had collapsed in favour of The GGC – Jim would probably only freak slightly. Always assuming Blair hadn't re-entangled somewhere halfway between San Francisco and Vegas.
The demons gathered, grinning toothily (the green slime and the six inch fangs helped considerably).
"Well, well, well," one said nastily, "look what we've got here, nasty little hacker stealing the bosses' money."
Harper shook his head fiercely, "No, no, I'm testing a new fix for the slot machines here. To prevent hacking," he improvised wildly. "I have a contract for the work right here." He brandished a leaflet, that, had they been able to get a closer look at it, they would have seen read 'Nightmares and how they can Work for You! Getting laid whilst experiencing PTSD'.
"See?" Penfold said briskly, "That all looks in order, Seamus, no problem at all there, eh?"
The demons grew closer. "The boss said to say to you, that he doesn't want the work done here," the leader, wearing a dark suit and sun shades that scarcely hid the glowing red of his eyes, moved up close and personal, and smiled. "Get him, lads," he snarled into Seamus ' face.
Harper was thrown, protesting wildly over a broad shoulder. "It's not fair! It's my weekend off! Only one weekend a year, plus surfing time, and where do I end up?!" The demons rushed from the room, leaving Penfold to emerge, slowly, from the bucket he had been hiding in.
"Oh dear."
Moments later a tall man in full battle armour leapt into the room. "Have no fear! Joxer is here!" He brandished his sword menacingly, and Penfold sighed.
"Put it away and call—who've we got in the Guild who's hot on demons?"
The Guild Rolodex (TM) popped into existence above his outstretched hand, hovered for a second, then crashed to the floor.
"Argh!" Penfold was half buried under it, "Get it off of me!"
It took Joxer, Lurch, and BA Barracus ten minutes to move the Guild directory off the Guild leader.
Meanwhile in the extensive pool and sauna area, the Guild's resident expert on 'Demons, Demonology And All Things Squicky' (TM) with optional expertise in tax fraud and high fashion shopping was currently having a facial.
"Live with the facial.,." she murmured, dreamily as B'yorn massaged crème de mer into her temples.
"Accept the facial," an equally contented sigh came from the bed next to her as B'yorn's identical twin brother Ag'ene worked his own brand of magic.
Together, Cordelia and Sam Carter finished the mantra. "Be one with the... aaaaaaah!...," they both yawned, "... the fuckin' facial!" and then giggled.
"Aaahhh!" Cordelia repeated.
"Yeah!" replied Sam again. "This is the life. No stress, no aliens... no Colonels in denial constantly hitting on me and making complete prats of themselves."
"No.. Aaaah!"
"Huh?" Sam asked, peeling off the cucumber slices from her eyes and watching with some shock as Cordelia leapt off the bed and started clutching her head.
"No...! No...!" she protested whilst writhing in pain on the floor. "This is my weekend off!"
By sheer coincidence, Dana Scully arrived at precisely that moment to find Cordelia apparently having one of her episodes of delusional epilepsy. "Stand clear," she ordered as she crouched down and started doing doctorish-type things.
Cordelia came out of her vision to find Scully apparently getting ready to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
"Eeewwww!" she protested, immediately moving out of reach of the other woman. "I think I preferred the demons."
"Demons?" Sam immediately queried, intrigued. She jumped off the table, remembered she was stark naked... for some reason this was a requirement for getting a facial in this hotel, and wrapped a large fluffy white towel round herself. "Where?"
"Here... in the hotel." Cordelia replied, dressing quickly. "They grabbed Harper and ran off."
"Harper?" Scully asked. "Short, annoying, certifiable guy?"
"That's him," Cordelia sighed. She mentally tallied the weapons she managed to pack that weekend. Somehow she didn't think a nail file, hairspray and her pet stake, which she had carried with her since graduation, was probably going to be enough. "We need weapons," she announced.
Scully and Sam exchanged knowing glances.
"I'm sure we can come up with something." Sam replied.
Blair reintegrated with himself, and swore, long and vividly, providing Einstein and his intellectual heirs with an ancestry including miscegenated frog spawn, cross dimensional travel, and termites. Then he looked around. No one had seen him – that was part of the deal, but if things were running true to form, Jim should be along any second—
"Blair!" Right on cue, Ellison appeared from around a large palm tree in the hotel foyer. "Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!"
He wrapped Blair in his arms and held him tightly, "You know I hate it when you go off like that. Especially when there are so many of the Bad Guys around (TM)." Blair sighed, and smiled up at him.
"I'll be fine, I can take care of myself, really." He pressed a soft kiss on Jim's lips, and slid his arms around his waist. "And you know I'm busy, Jimlove."
Jim gagged and then grinned, "You do that just to wind me up, don't you, Blairlove?"
Blair laughed again, "Yup. Now, come on, let go and I promise I'll screw you till your butt is permanently up by your shoulders."
"Ow!" He thought about it, "You're on. See you Monday morning?"
"Barring disasters," Blair nodded, "and look, I wasn't here, you didn't see me, and if anybody brings it up, the sheep are definitely lying, okay?"
"Is this that stringy thing again?" Jim asked suspiciously.
"String theory, and you know you're not supposed to know about that. They'll take it away if they find out you know, and then what are we gonna do? There's no way I can meet all my commitments if I can't be two people."
Jim pouted. "I know, I know." He brightened, "If I'm really good, can we try getting both of you in the same bed at the same time again?"
Blair giggled, then stared sternly up at His Mate (TM). "You really want to risk the fate of the universe and the space-time continuum just for hot three way sex with me?"
Jim grinned, "Sure, why not?"
Blair groaned and dropped his head despairingly on his lover's shoulder. "Go on, shoo. And remember you haven't seen me. You don't know where I am, you only know where I was going." He scowled and pulled out a cell phone, "Now, as long as I can convince someone back in Vegas that they know where I am, I should be able to get back."
"See you later, babe," Jim pressed a last kiss, which segued into another ten or thirty or so.
"Yeah. Bye. Love ya, laughing boy."
"Love ya, motormouth."
Harper leaned back as far as the demon standing behind him would let him as one of the demons moved into his personal space and breathed over him. "Jeez! What the hell have you been eating? I've smelled better things in Dylan's used underwear pile." He paused. "Er, not that I go around smelling Dylan's used underwear," he hastened to add. Much, he added mentally.
"He looks tasty. Can we eat him?" the demon asked.
"No, we can't eat him," one of the others replied. "The boss needs him to hack into these machines."
Looking around to make sure they weren't being watched, the demons hustled Harper over to a row of slot machines. "Well, do your thing," the biggest demon demanded.
"Look, I can't just do this, okay. It takes fine tuning, concentration-"
"Do you need your head to do it?"
Seamus frowned. "Of course I need my head. What kind of a stupid question is that?"
The demon growled. "Well, then, get on with it, or I'll rip your head off."
Harper thought about this for a moment. And then plugged himself in.
Sam Carter dug around in her bag, pulling out a zat'niqatel. "I knew this would come in handy when I packed it."
"What is it?" Cordelia asked, peering over her shoulder.
"It's a zat gun," answered Sam. "You said we needed weapons."
"I've never seen a gun like that before," commented Scully.
"It's Goa'uld. I got it off a Jaffa."
"Really, I thought you were going to say you got it off a Granny Smith," snarked Scully, clearing disbelieving.
"Oh, ignore her, she's just jealous," said Cordelia, taking the gun off Sam and examining it. "Well," she held the gun against her blouse, "at least it goes with the outfit." She was just about to ask if Sam had anything else they could use in her bag when a small, green blob floated through the wall.
"Dana!" it called, floating over to Scully and planting a wet kiss on her face before floating off through the other wall.
"I hate it when he does that!" exclaimed Scully, frantically spitting green goo onto the floor.
"He only does it because he likes you," Sam grinned.
"Exactly," agreed Cordelia. "Now, how about we go and rescue Harper."
Harper had just hit the jackpot for the seventh time in a row when a scream rang out, and several people ran past in panic. Looking over, Harper groaned as he saw half a dozen demons, bigger than the ones who had taken him in the first place, heading towards them.
"Hey!" One of them called out. "We want the human."
"You can't have him!" the leader of the original demons yelled back. "He's ours!"
"We'll see about that." The second lot of demons charged, sending the first group flying.
Spotting his chance to make his escape, Harper tried to sneak past the mass of fighting demon bodies rolling around on the floor, only to be grabbed by the collar and pulled back. The last thing he saw was a large demon fist bearing down on him, before his head exploded in pain and the Blessed Darkness (TM) took him.
"Blair? Why are you ringing me? Didn't I just see you a minute ago?"
"Thanks, Jesse," grinned Blair as he reappeared in Las Vegas, his Kiss Swollen Lips (TM) giving him a slight lisp. "What did I miss?" he asked, looking around. "And why are you bandaging Penfold's head?"
"The Guild Rolodex (TM) fell on him," Jesse explained, finished tucking the bandage around the hamster's ears.
"Ah," replied Blair. Having seen the size of the Rolodex he could well understand why it would hurt if it fell on your head. After all, not only did it contain every single Assistologist there had ever been, but every single contact an Assistologist was ever likely to need was also in there, from the Aardvark Health Care Hotline to those guys who came round and removed all the hair from the shower drain.
"The demons got Harper," Penfold moaned, from under the wrappings of the bandage Jesse had bundled him into.
"See! I told you demons were involved!"
Blair turned to see Cordelia, Sam and Dana standing there.
"I doubt very much that it was actually demons. Probably more like some kind of mass delusional hysteria brought on by too much gambling," commented Scully. "I mean, all those little cherries spinning around has to have some kind of hypnotic effect. Possibly sub-liminal."
Cordelia turned and gave Scully The Look (variant 163: did you go insane when I wasn't looking?) (TM).
"I had a vision," she announced. "It's my weekend off and I had a vision. I want to put in a formal complaint."
Penfold whipped out his folder, pulled out several forms and handed them to Cordelia and said. "Fill these out in triplicate and come see me on Monday." He groaned, clutching his head slightly. "I'll need copies of all your Guild credentials. The hotel will photocopy them for you free of charge."
"Hey, do we have to do this right now?" Blair protested, quickly. "Penfold's hurt and Harper has been abducted by rampaging demons set on robbing all the other casinos in Las Vegas."
"Why doesn't young Andromeda find him for us?" Penfold queried, still rubbing his head. "Ow, that hurt, chief!"
Blair patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.
Young Andromeda immediately materialised next to them. "Well... if I was a sidekick I might help," she huffed, "but since you lot wouldn't let me join!"
Scully frowned at her. "You know our insurance won't cover letting modes of transport into the Guild."
"I am a three giga tonne warship with more processor speed available in my three incarnations than you could fit into that puffy red head of yours, Dana. I was merely explaining," she turned pointedly back to Penfold, arms folded, "that I would not be assisting the Guild of Sidekicks, as KITT and I are working on it. We've formed a League of our Own (TM)." The hologram began to fade, "We're thinking of inviting the Transformers."
"But they're not human!" commented Scully.
"A-hem!" Penfold glared at her.
"Oh you know what I mean," backtracked Dana. "Rommie looks human, and KITT is driven by a human. The Transformers (Robots in Disguise (TM)) aren't even from this planet!"
"And you're going to tell Kal El that he's not qualified to be in the Hero's Guild (TM)?"
Scully sighed and gave up. It was like talking to Mulder.
"Anyway. Harper," stressed Blair, trying to bring everyone back on topic.
Harper groaned. His eyes slitted open carefully -- he felt like hell. And judging by his surroundings his first impression had been right on the money. Demons milled around. The room was dark, and apparently lit by reddish flickering flames...
He shut his eyes tight and curled up tightly, trying in vain to fend off the childhood memories – him and his cousins, used by the Magog, as food, slaves, breeding hosts to keep their eggs in... kind of the human equivalent of Tupperware (TM).
"Well, Seamus," a smooth southern accent spoke near him, and he peered out of his Terrified Huddle (TM), to see a nattily dressed demon, white suit, black spats, and slicked-back tentacles. "Are we going to be friends? I'd like for us to be friends."
He held out a hand and Harper slid further back, until he was pressed hard up against the wall.
"Come now, I can do much for you. All I need is a little of your time, and maybe your immortal soul."
"No way!"
"Well, we can negotiate on the immortal soul deal, but first," he snapped his fingers, and the hellish ambience instantly changed to a late night, classy jazz bar, "Let's dance."
Harper looked down, and yes, he just knew it. Why didn't this shit ever happen to Dylan? Hell, even Beka could probably pull this outfit off, whilst managing to beat the crap out the demon with the... six inch high heels he was now suddenly wearing. She'd probably be able to use feather boa as weapon; unfortunately it was currently making him sneeze.
The demon held out his hand, "Shall we?"
Harper tried to stall. This was going to be hideous. "But we haven't even been introduced yet."
"A thousand apologies, my dear... dear boy," the demon slid one hand onto Harper's hip, sliding it round and pulling him closer. "I am Spwedhfhyf'efhriow'... but you can call me Bob." He snapped the fingers of his left hand and immediately candles burst into life around the room, jumping frantically down from table tops and counters and making a mad dash for the door. But to no avail as Bob's heavies rounded them up and forced them back into their life of servitude.
Harper was twirled round onto the dance floor while the six demon jazz band struck up the opening chords to 'Stand By Me!' Harper took one deep breath and screamed.
"HELP!!!!!!!!"
"So, that's the plan," commented Sam.
Blair nodded. "Cordelia, can you tell us anything more about these demons before we go?"
"They're big, and they're demony. What more do you need to know?"
"Pointy teeth? Talons? Horny?"
"Well, d'uh! They didn't take Harper for his hot little bod," Cordelia snapped.
Jesse looked thoughtful. "Oh, I don't know."
"Eww," Sam chimed in, and the two women smiled at each other in pleased agreement.
"They probably want to use his talent to steal money, then use his body, and then throw him out, a battered bleeding corpse." Pinky said reflectively. "It's what I'd do! Well, what I'd convince Brain was his idea to do, anyway," he added defensively. "Poyt."
"You are not helping!!!!" Sam, Cordelia, Blair and Jesse shouted in unison.
Pinky slunk back to the bar, tail between his legs, and his glass of absinthe. "No one appreciates me," he was heard to grumble as he disappeared. "I could help... narf!... it takes a great deal of intelligence to stop Brain from taking over the world." He opened a secret pocket in his fur and pulled out a tiny CI5 identity badge, and stared at it sadly. "Cowley said there'd be days like these!"
"I think we hurt his feelings." Blair remarked, as he watched the little undercover agent knock back five absinthe in a row, then walk completely soberly back to the bar.
"Yes, but what's he going to do about it... take over the world? Poyt!" Jesse sniggered.
Cordelia slapped the young doctor lightly on the back of the head. "Don't be nasty," she told him sharply, then paused. "I can't believe I'm concerned about the emotional state of a mouse." She shook her head in disbelief.
Blair sighed again. "Guys... Harper!"
Harper sighed as he moved Bob's hand away from his ass for the seventeenth time in five minutes. The demon band had been playing for about six songs and his feet were killing him. He couldn't understand how Beka wore heels like this for hours at a time. Not that he was meant to have seen her six inch leather thigh-high boots, but he'd be trying to find something in her closet one day and they'd fallen out of the secret compartment and hit him on the head. The photo album and video that had come with them had traumatised him for weeks. Although he could honestly say that he didn't know that Trance was that flexible, and no wonder Beka had a smile on her every time Her Purpleness flexed her tail.
"I guess you're wondering why I've invited you here?" Bob murmured breathily into Harper's ear.
"Hot monkey sex?" Harper took a stab in the dark.
Bob's smiled grew shark-like. "Well that certainly could be written into the programme for later!" he leered, grinding his enormous hard-on into Harper's stomach
"I thought you wanted me for my brain," Harper said, trying in vain to move away from Bob's insistent hands.
"Well, you know, I'm ... flexible..."
"We must focus, right? Slot machines!"
"Awww." Bob pouted. And that's not a good look on a seven foot demon with dentistry a sabre tooth tiger would envy
"Wouldn't it be a waste of a perfectly good kidnapping, just to, um, not use my slot machine expertise?"
Bob sighed reminiscently. "You know, time was when no kidnapping was complete without a little rape."
"Well that's the 21st century for you," Harper consoled him whilst internally doing the Dance of Joy (TM to some other guy). Unfortunately, it wasn't quite as internal as he'd hoped and his foot slipped, ramming a six inch heel into Bob' foot.
"OWWW!" Bob doubled over in pain, and Harper made a break for it. Not heading for the door, but the nearest slot machine, like his life, or possibly his ass, depended on it.
Ripping apart the slot machine he hot-wired a connection for himself and jacked himself in. Visions of cherries chased by small watermelons danced in his head and he concentrated for a brief moment.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Three bells fell into sight and money started spewing out of the machine.
Bob who was still hopping around, frantically clutching at his leg, paused and watched the scene with interest.
"You see, I can be of way more use than a sex object," Harper pointed out.
"I knew you were a good investment!" Bob purred, and drifted over to rub a hand thoughtfully over Harper's butt
"Look at the money!" Harper squeaked. "Nice money! Pretty money!" He smiled warily, trying to keep Bob's attention on him and not on the small flashing light on the modem in the office. Please, someone be on-line... he prayed.
"I don't see why you couldn't multitask," Bob smiled, seductively.
"Uh, no, multitasking, very, very difficult. Besides, this takes all my efforts, it's very hard."
"Yes, it is," purred Bob, grinding himself into Harper.
"One task at a time. Definitely."
"And you did your first task sooooo well," Bob groaned, overtly thrusting now, "That I think we can move on to task two."
Harper leapt to his feet and scuttled to the next fruit machine. "Great idea, Bob," he said, sincerely, tucking his butt behind the slot machine as he jacked in. //Come on Rommie, pick up!// Harper growled at the still ringing modem.
Finally, the machine clicked.
'Andromeda Ascendant, how may I direct your call?'
//Rommie!!!// Harper thought furiously at her. //Help!//
'I'm sorry, the ship's avatar is not available at the moment. Please try again later.'
//What!!!// Harper concentrated. //ROMMIEEEE!!!!!!!!!// The avatar might not be available, but there were two others on board that should be. Although, given the choice between Andromeda the 3 gigatonne warship and Andromeda the hologram, he knew which one he would prefer to pick up. Harper concentrated again, bringing up the machine code that would focus the wretched ship on him, instead of its hurt feelings.
'Oh, Seamus, it's you. Tch. Why didn't you just say so? There's no need to be nasty about it.'
//Help!//
'I heard you the first time. I think you'll find that my assistance at this time is not only superfluous, but contrary to item 23(b) of the Constitution of The Institute of Assistologists.'
//What?// Harper couldn't believe what he was hearing. //Item 23(b)?! Rommie, what are you going on about. I have a horny demon after me and you're quoting Guild rules?! And besides, I never said any of that to you. I'm working on them, I'm going to get you in. Hey, trust the Harper, I'll sort it - you've just gotta get me out of here!//
'Well, maybe I don't want to be in the Assistologists Guild anymore, Seamus Zelasny Harper. Did you think of that? Maybe I'll just start my own Guild. Yes, I'll do that. I'll start my own Guild and let speciesist Assistologists deal with themselves.'
Harper's jaw dropped as the dial tone sounded. Oh shit.
"Now, Harper," Bob advanced closer. "Let us discuss the terms of your... employment."
//Helpppppp!!!!!!!!//
"And you're sure these things will stop a demon?" Cordelia asked, holding the zat gun up.
"They'll stop anything," Sam said confidently. She reached around Cordy to show her the best way to hold it. "Just hit them three times, and you don't even have to do a cleanup afterwards. Here-- and the trigger -- once to stun, twice to kill, three times to disintegrate. Ok?"
"I don't suppose I could get a couple of these to take back to LA with me?" Cordelia wondered as Sam's hands moved over her own.
Dana frowned at the zat in her hand. "And you're quite sure this isn't some sort of trick?"
"Hey, I know," Cordy swung her zat to point at Dana, "I'll just practice. Oops. Did my finger slip?" she added, as Dan fainted.
Sam's arms tightened around her, and suddenly they were both acutely aware of their proximity.
"Hey! Isn't that the guy thing," Cordy said, bemused. "You know, get too close and then come over all tingly for the wrong person?" She turned and smiled flirtatiously.
Jesse cleared his throat. "Tingly?"
Blair's face was oddly red, as he turned away from the group, and found some water. Oddly he missed his mouth and drowned his crotch instead. "Ahem. Great to see you guys becoming so, um, close."
"I'll have you know that's a perfectly valid scientific description," Cordy informed the blond. "Tingly. Goes with shuddery and icky."
"Far be it from me to stop the cause of science," Jesse said hoarsely, "Blair, could I have a glass of that water?" His hand appeared to slip too, and the expression of acute relief was a joy to see. Cordelia snickered.
"Sam..." she said softly, one eye on the guys.
"Yes?"
"Wanna see how, um, you know, we can get?"
"Together?" supplied Blair helpfully.
"Naked?" chimed in Jesse.
"We could consider it in the form of a scientific experiment?" Sam smiled into Cordy's eyes, and both guys choked.
"I'm a doctor," Jesse reminded them. "Just in case you need me to, you know, watch in case anything goes wrong."
"Important socio-anthropological material," Blair offered. "I'd be willing to observe, you know, for the benefit of humankind," he added hopefully.
Sam glared at them before her eyes went back to Cordelia's. "So, you want we should..." Her words trailed off as her lips moved closer to Cordy's.
Penfold scowled, folded his arms, and cleared his throat. "Ladies, gentlemen, young Seamus is in terrible danger!"
"Yeah..." answered Cordy, feeling Sam's breath ghost over her mouth.
"Shut up, shorty," muttered Blair, breath coming short and harsh.
"Excuse me, Dr. Sandburg?" A hotel clerk appeared by Blair's shoulder.
"Go away!" Blair waved an urgent hand at the clerk.
"Samantha Carter! Cordelia Chase! As head of the Assistologists Guild I demand that- urgh!" Penfold's words snapped off as Jesse clamped a hand over his mouth.
"I have a call for you from a Mr. Seamus Harper," the clerk insisted.
"Tell him I'll call him later -- get a number if you can. Tell him he's doing great, and Dylan will love helping him through the PTSD, okay?"
Sam's lips pressed softly against the younger woman's, and their arms slid slowly around each other's slender waist.
"A dmemanu akdne ahenfu!" Penfold objected through Jesse's fingers.
Jesse and Blair groaned simultaneously.
"Damn, there's never a Good Guy around when you need one," Jesse muttered, surreptitiously using his free hand to adjust his trousers.
"Cordelia," Sam breathed softly, pulling her lips away fractionally, "You taste so sweet..."
"Never underestimate the value of good dental hygiene," Cordelia agreed, "Less talk, more kiss."
"Seconded!" called Jesse and Blair at the same moment.
"Dr Sandburg, Mr Harper is insisting I put you on the line," the hotel clerk said apologetically. Possibly he just didn't want to leave the room either.
"He said take a- ouch!" Jesse glared at Penfold as he held his bitten hand against his chest.
"Oh, um, ok." Blair took the phone, "Seamus?" he breathed down the line.
"Are you having sex?" Seamus demanded angrily.
"Nah. Cordy and Sam might if we don't interrupt, though."
"Aw fuck. And I'm missing it! Wait, you've got the camcorder, right?"
"Good to go. Look, do you want the rescue or the footage, S, because it's one or the other right now..."
"Oh, forget me, get the footage."
"Great, great, man, we'll get right back to you, I swear!"
"I think not, chief!" snapped Penfold, jumping up and grabbing the phone out of Blair's hand. "Seamus Harper, we'll be right there to rescue you. Don't do anything stupid."
"No! I'm fine! I don't mind the rape! Get the footage!"
Penfold sighed, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Harper, you're going to be rescued. Deal with it." And with that he hung up the phone and handed it back to the clerk. "Miss Chase! Major Carter! Please remove your tongues from one another's mouths and pay attention. We have a rescue to carry out!" Penfold scowled as no one took any notice. He picked up the phone again. "Housekeeping? Can I have three -- make that four buckets of ice water in the Hemlock Suite, immediately?"
There was a knock at the door.
"What splendid service. Thank you." He opened the door and directed the men carrying the buckets to upend them over the other four.
"Argh!!!"
"Jeeeze!"
"My silk blouse! You little rat!"
"Sir, you are no fun at all!"
"I'm the head of the Guild. 'Fun' is not in my vocabulary," Penfold said haughtily.
"Well, according to what Steve told me about the night he got drunk with DangerMouse, I'd say that's not entirely true," muttered Jesse.
Penfold's eyes narrowed as he glared at Jesse. "Would you care to repeat that, Dr Travis?" he said firmly, his voice overlapping with Blair's surprised squawk.
"Steve shagged DangerMouse??!!"
Jesse turned on Blair. "No, Steve did not shag DangerMouse. That's not what I meant! And besides, why would he want an flea-ridden albino rodent when he has me!- OUCH!!" Jesse screamed and tried to prise Penfold's jaws off his ass. "My ass! My ass!"
Penfold calmly stepped back, spitting a small piece of fabric to the floor. "It was the only place I could reach."
"Why you little-"
"Would you be addressing the head of The Institute of Assistologists with pejoratives, Dr Travis?" Penfold raised a cool eyebrow.
"I'll be addressing him with a slap if he bites my ass again," Jesse growled. "Jeeze," he twisted to peer over his shoulder.
"Have you had your shots?" Blair murmured softly.
"Yes, thank you for your concern, Mr Sandburg," Penfold replied
Jesse glared at Penfold before turning back to Blair. "Of course I had my fucking shots. That little rat does this every damn time."
"I am a hamster, not a rat!" Penfold snapped angrily
Sam looked up from Cordelia's soft eyes. "Is there a reason Jesse's trying to see his butt?" she asked, barely moving her lips from Cordy's.
"Who cares?" Cordy replied. "Come back here." She slid a hand up into Sam's short locks, and tugged her closer.
Her lips descending back on Cordelia's, Sam silently thanked Jesse for distracting Penfold enough for her to get back to kissing the woman in her arms. There was a slight squelching noise as Cordelia's wet blouse stuck to Sam's equally wet T-shirt, but both of them ignored it.
Blair sighed as he realised Penfold and Jesse were about to start yelling. "Look will you two just..." his words trailed off as he realised the soaking figures of Sam and Cordelia had moved back together.
Jesse looked up sharply at the pained whimper that escaped from Blair's throat. Following the other man's line of sight, he gulped. "Oh, whoa..." he breathed. "This has got to be better than the wet T-shirt contest they're advertising for tonight."
"Ya think?" Blair replied, before cursing the fact that Jim had been spending way too much time with Jack O'Neill.
Penfold cleared his throat loudly. "Can we get back to the matter at hand. Or do I need to call for more buckets of water?"
"I'm thinking the water might be a good idea," admitted Jesse.
"Quickly, before the T-shirts dry out," Blair agreed.
Penfold rolled his eyes. Placing two fingers in his mouth he whistled shrilly.
"Youch!" yelled Sam, breaking away from Cordelia and clapping her hands over her ears.
"Jeeze!" shouted Cordy, doing the same.
Blair wiggled a finger in his ear and winced. "I have never been as glad that I'm the Guide and not the Sentinel as I am at this moment," he muttered.
Jesse slapped at his ears. "Ten to one, every dog within a ten mile radius has just yelped."
"Excuseme," Cordelia turned cold, hard eyes on Jesse.
"Uh, animal variety dog, canine, um..."
"Jesse, man, quit now before she pulls your balls off through your throat," Blair advised.
"Now, need I remind you, one of our compatriots is in dire need of rescuing," Penfold said.
"Fine, fine," Blair waved his hands in the air. "Look, girls, we can get back to the sex later, but we better sort Old Penny before his upper lip falls off or something!"
"Old whom?" Penfold demanded
"Excuse me," Cordelia interjected, "who exactly will be getting back to the sex?"
"Oh, um, no one."
"Absolutely nobody," agreed Jesse at a quick kick in the ankles from Sandburg.
Sam pressed a firm kiss to Cordy's lips, then turned to the head of the Institute of Assistologists. "Sir, I think we're ready to mount the rescue attempt for Harper now."
"At last." Penfold rolled his eyes.
"I think we're all ready," Jesse muttered sotto voce to Blair, and they grimaced at each other as they adjusted themselves inside their wet pants.
Motioning them over to a table, Penfold produced a map from out of his back pocket and spread it out, pointing to various locations before rolling the map away and sliding it back into his pocket. "Now, these are the casinos in Las Vegas. I think we should start-" But his words were cut off by a groan coming from the floor. "Is Dr Scully coming?" Penfold enquired, as they headed out of the room, leaving the red headed fibbie unconscious on the floor.
"Nah, if she was she'd be making more noise," Blair replied absently, stepping over Dana and following the others out.
Joxer the Mighty had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He'd followed the demons that had snatched Harper and tracked them to their darksome lair. He'd watched as Bob had whirled Harper around the dance floor, absently noting that the blond man looked surprisingly graceful for someone who claimed to have never worn six inch heels before. His chance to perform a Heroic Deed (TM) thereby securing his place in the Heroes Guild (TM). And now this was his moment, his once in a lifetime! His destiny called him… He cleared his throat as the tears welled up, and the sounds of a 40 piece orchestra swelled.
Now, if only he could get through the lesser demons lining the front of the underworld club. The orchestra faded as he puffed out his chest, and pushed up his shoulders, throwing his pecs and armour into bold relief. "Ho, lesser demons! I am Joxer, and this is my mighty weapon!" he declared, striking a manly pose... and dropping his sword on his foot.
"Hello gorgeous," one of the lesser demons sashayed up to him, and slid a hand under his kilt.
Joxer's eyes bugged.
"And, my, what a mighty weapon it is," it grinned at him toothily
The other demons just looked at him, obviously frozen with terror, Joxer surmised. Actually they were trying to determine whether this strange clanking creature was the new cabaret act and where were the dancing chickens they'd been promised? Then again, perhaps this was the dancing chicken?
"Ahem." Joxer stepped away from the demon, winced, removed the hand that was attempting a tug of war with his dick as the prize, straightened the kilt, picked up the sword, and drew a deep breath. Clearly they needed to be warned who they were facing. His voice rang out, a merry war song filling the startled Las Vegas night.
"Joxer the Mighty! Roaming through Las Vegas Although the food gives me gas. Ready to fight a demon-"
"Can I drench you with my semen?" interrupted the demon who was still trying to get his hand back under Joxer's kilt, in a sing-song contralto.
"Er..." Joxer frowned at the demon for making him lose his place. "I'll have to start all over again now!" he complained.
He cleared his throat once more and drew a deep breath. The orchestra swelled.
“Joxer! Joxer the Mighty! Though his shorts are tighty! And his heroic deeds are kind of shitey He’s Joxer! Joxer the Mighty!"
“Avaunt foul friends!”
“Friends?”
Joxer frowned and pulled a dictionary from somewhere – we won't dwell on where.
"Fiend! Sorry," he smiled awkwardly and slid the dictionary away – just don’t look, okay? "Avaunt ye, foul fiends from the uttermost pit!"
"Ah, I'm not from the uttermost pit?" A smaller demon towards the back raised a shy hand.
Joxer paused, frowned, resting one hand on his chin, then his face brightened. "Avaunt ye foul fiends of the uttermost pit and--" he looked expectantly at the helpful demon.
“Seventh pit of Asharfarayel.”
"--right, Seventh pit of Asharfarayel.” He finished triumphantly.
"What's so good about Asharfarayel?" another demon demanded petulantly. "No one ever mentions Shaggalottal, and the nethermost pits of the demon Boffalut!" It started to sob unhappily, as several of its friends gathered close, some comforting, whilst others glared accusingly at Joxer.
"Sorry! Sorry!" Joxer raised both hands placatingly. "Okay. Avaunt ye, foul fiends of the uttermost pit, the seventh pit of Asharfarayel, Shaggalottal and the nethermost pits of Boffalot.."
"And the ring of fire that surrounds the four caves of Mivanwie," another helpful voice added.
"I see." Joxer took a deep breath. "Avaunt ye…" he started again.
Meanwhile Blair and Jesse watched closely as Sam and Cordelia jimmied open the back door of the nightclub and slipped into the darkened doorway. They waited patiently for about thirty seconds before one slim pale arm appeared from the entrance and advised them that it was safe to approach.
"There are times when it is definitely safer to stay by the car," Blair whispered as he made his way carefully forward.
Jesse shivered, "Tell me about it I thought Sam has definitely been spending too much time with that Jaffa guy. That look was damn scary."
"There are always good reasons to obey Major Carter." Penfold advised them both haughtily as the small hamster held his arms out to be aided over the wall separating the car park with the service entrance.
"Jeez, Penny," Jesse wheezed as he picked up the Guild Leader, "you need to cut back on the snacks."
Penfold allowed the young doctor to lower him to the ground, readjusted his glasses… then kicked Jesse in the shins.
"Owmumph!!!!" Jesse suppressed a squeal of pain by slapping his hands over his mouth. "You little rat!" he hissed angrily clutching his leg and hopping around on the other.
"Will you two shut up?" Cordelia hissed as they continued to bicker on entering the building. She made some complicated hand gestures which the Major seemed to understand completely before Sam disappeared along the darkened corridor.
"You spotted something?" Blair whispered as he approached her.
"Huh?"
"The.. umm…" Blair waved his hands about in a faint approximation of Cordelia's gestures, "stuff!" He'd seen Jim to this covert-ops shit before, course he hadn't a clue about it then and still knew nothing about it now. TPTB gave him the ability to be in two places at once, know all about every single obscure African or South American tribe down to what colour socks the chief tribesman wore the day his second son was born but did they ever give him the chance to learn the useful stuff? It had taken him to actually jump out of the plane before they deigned to give him the knowledge to work a parachute.
There were times when being just the sidekick sucked!!!
"Harper's here." Cordy told him. "Sam crept up to the balcony which overlooked the main hall and she says that some demon has got him cornered next to a slot machine. She couldn't see a way down so she's investigating."
"Is he okay?" Blair asked.
"He's got the machine churning out money like it's going out of fashion which seems to be keeping the demon distracted," Cordy grinned, "and you know Harper… he can spin a line of BS faster that anyone I know… present company excluded of course."
"Hey, there's a reason Blair's initials are what they are," grinned Jesse.
Blair responded to the jibe in the most adult way he could… he stuck his tongue out.
Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Don't stick that out unless you're prepared to use it."
Blair was just about to explain the concept of 'not a chance in hell' and 'otp' (TM) when Sam appeared out of the shadows.
"I've found a way down to the main hall," she told them.
"Ooh, are we going to abseil on ropes?" Blair asked.
"Parachutes?" chimed in Jesse.
"Suction cups stuck to our hands and knees?" Blair looked rather hopeful at that one as he started singing under his breath. "SpiderBlair, SpiderBlair, gorgeous ass and perfect hair."
Jesse ignored the singing anthropologist as he looked at Sam. "Transdimensional teleportation portal?"
Sam rolled her eyes. "No, you idiots, I found the back stairs."
"Oh, well, I guess they'll work just as well," muttered Jesse, slightly dejectedly as Sam started to lead them along the corridor.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Splutter!
Harper glared at the slot machine as the money stopped pouring out.
"Well," murmured Bob. "It looks like you've emptied all of my machines. Now how about emptying me, sweet Seamus?"
Harper gulped, rapidly running through the options in his head. On the one hand he could run, not make it to the door and be killed by a pack of demon minders who's entire existence rested on stopping him from getting out of there. On the other he could fight Bob's advances and possibly be injured before Bob took him anyway. On the third, he could let Bob get on with it, and them claim years of Dylan comforting him through the trauma. He sighed, either way he was screwed, so he may as well make it worth his while. "Okay then, Bob, you hunka hunka burning demon-flesh, you, take me!" Disconnecting himself from the slot machine, Harper threw his hands into the air, tottered on his high heels slightly, and swooned into Bob's arms.
Bob grinned lasciviously, sweeping Harper off his feet and into his arms.
"I will ask one favour though," Harper said, as Bob started to carry him through to the back room.
"Anything, my little muffin of studliness," Bob purred, the twin tips of his elegantly forked tongue darting out to lick at Harper's ear.
"Be gentle…"
The Scooby gang (TM to the same other guy as before) made their way ever cautiously forward. They had avoided the hideously devilish traps which had been set to maim and dismember the unwary. Cordelia's Sight was the only reason Jesse wasn't singing soprano when razor-sharp spikes had come shooting out of the wall opposite. As they approached the main entrance a familiar voice echoed through the badly decorated hallway.
"Avaunt ye, foul fiends of the uttermost pit, the seventh pit of Asharfarayel, Shaggalottal and the nethermost pits of Boffalot and the ring of fire that surrounds the four caves of Mivanwie. The cave that stands alone in the deepest darkest Mountains of Bowanie. The evil spawn of Orlashadd…"
"Orlashmed."
"The evil spawn of Orlashmed," corrected Joxer automatically. "And the Destroyer of the Knights of Ni…"
"Nice of Joxer to keep the henchmen distracted for us." Jesse commented mostly to himself as they snuck past one-by-one. He ran along the corridor… stopped… darted back, plunged one arm into the depths of the shag-pile carpet to assist Penfold who was floundering. "Remind me why I keep rescuing you?" he complained vigorously as he stuffed the protesting rodent under one arm.
"Shush!" Sam ordered coming to an abrupt halt. "We're here!"
"Where?" Blair immediately asked. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face there was so little light. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but then normally he was working with Jim… the Sentinel. The guy who could see two fleas having sex on dog. Blair shook his head rapidly, now was not the time to be thinking about Jim that would only lead to....
"Whoa! Come back here." Cordy slapped Blair sharply across the face. "No doing the stringy-thing when we're about to conduct a rescue."
Blair blinked. "How did you do that?" He'd already felt the wave function begin to take effect.
Cordelia winked and touched one delicately manicured finger to her temple. "Direct link to TPTB, remember?"
Sam appeared out of nowhere brandishing two baseball bats which she handed to the two guys. "Sorry it was the only thing approaching a weapon that I could find."
Blair hefted the weapon in his hands, enjoying its weight. "S'okay…I've had some experience with baseball bats."
Jesse just looked at Sam helplessly. "Well, I've not. Damn it, I'm a Doctor not a… not a… " he searched desperately for the right word.
"Rescuer?" Cordelia injected coldly.
"Never mind, Dr Travis," Penfold took the weapon in his hands and swung it in the air exhibiting both ease and dexterity. "I shall be more than happy to oblige. It may be for the best if you concentrate your efforts on ascertaining whether Mr Harper requires medical care after his ordeal."
Jesse gazed wistfully after the baseball bat. "I'd've enjoyed using that," he said softly.
"Dr Travis, sir, I believe Mr Penfold intended it to be used on the enemy, not himself," Sam Carter observed with a faint smile, as she moved past him.
"Jesse. Please. Call me Jesse?"
"Sorry, force of habit when Penfold started using everyone's titles." Sam grinned.
"Everyone? If we're quite finished?" Penfold ordered fussily. "Now. Dr Sandburg, you can take out the henchmen left in the main room. Dr Travis, you will be waiting here to afford medical assistance to young Seamus. Ms Chase, Major Carter and I will enter the room and seek to sway the demon's foul attentions from our beleaguered colleague."
"You?!" Jesse snorted, and Penfold raised a cool eyebrow.
"I am an expert in the art of Cour'cheef," Penfold replied sternly.
Jesse rolled his eyes but remembered to step neatly outside Penfold's reach as he did so.
The four rescuers softly headed out. At the foot of the stairs Carter held up a hand and slipped forward a few paces. The others froze until she glanced back over her shoulder and waved them up. With quick, economical gestures she indicated Blair should wait with Penfold for a count of four after she and Cordelia had gone in. Holding each set of eyes in turn she nodded, pleased at the agreement she saw. The other two slipped quickly to the far side of the doorway as her eyes met Cordelia's. She pulled her in close for a brief, yet deep kiss, then held up three fingers, mouthing, "On three --", she paused a split second, then counted down with her hand --three, two, one -- go!
She and Cordelia burst into the room, each diving through and rolling away from the open ground by the entrance. They rose to their knees, and as one woman, began firing on the startled demons, henchmen, and raunchy orgiastic display involving Harper, two demons, a peeled banana, and some sushi.
Four beats later, Blair and Penfold followed them in, running forward under the girls' covering fire. Penfold wielded his baton with speed and deadly grace, the tiny, podgy frame entirely belying the ancient mastery hidden within. The bat whirled as though he carried three, four of them, striking five or six blows for every one that the Evil Henchmen (TM) could manage. The other three watched in awe as the Leader of the Institute of Assistologists demonstrated just why he had survived so much, and for so long. As he dodged a arcing sweep from one seven armed demon he leapt! Paused gracefully for a split second on the dado rail, launched! Spun, bat still taking out henchmen as he flew through the air on a deadly, yet perfectly controlled trajectory. And dropped lightly to his feet. In a moment of hush he twirled the bat, then halted, all motion ceased, poised perfectly, bat held high in one hand, one foot forward, the other a little back.
"Ha!"
For a long moment no one moved. Then, from under a heap of demons, looking bruised, battered, and decidedly sticky, Harper's head slowly emerged, blinking, into the dim twilight of the room. He looked around slowly, taking in Cordelia and Sam, kneeling on the floor, guns at the ready. Blair, bat raised. The near-silent piles of motionless demons and henchmen, only faint moans indicating that they had not in fact perished. And finally his eyes fell on the small, spotless figure of Penfold himself.
"Hey, when did you guys bring in Jackie Chan?"
"So," Harper yelled over the pounding beat of Britney Spears' 'Baby One More Time', "tell me again why to chose to rescue me instead of getting the Sam-Cordy sex?"
"It was all his fault," replied Jesse, pointing to the small gyrating figure on the dancefloor. "He bit my ass!"
"Never mind though, Seamus, maybe if you're good enough we'll let you watch tonight," teased Cordy.
Harper's eyes lit up in glee. "Really?"
Cordelia looked over at Sam, both women grinning as they shook their heads. "Nah!"
"Spoilsports!"
"Right, who wanted the Miller Lite?" Blair asked, having fought his way back from the bar with an armful of drinks he then deposited on the table.
"That was mine," Jesse answered, reaching out to grab the bottle. "How's the bar tab going?"
"Fine," Blair told him. "We're hardly even a quarter a way through the money we, err, liberated from Bob's casino."
Harper grinned. "Glad to hear it, if I had to miss the sex, then at least I got the cash."
Jesse was just about to say something in response when Cordelia shrieked, leaped to her feet and rushed onto the dance floor, dragging Sam behind her.
It only took another couple of beats before the matching grin spread over Blair's face and he grabbed Jesse and Harper, pulling them along with him and managing to get them into line, just as the dancers all started moving to the right.
'Here I lie,' ("LEFT!" Blair yelled excitedly.) 'in a lost and lonely' ("RIGHT!") 'part of town' ("LEFT!" and then before the next verse started, "RIGHT!") 'Held in time,' ("LEFT!") 'in a world of tears' ("RIGHT!") 'I slowly drown…' (Blair stopped there, figuring the newbies had got the hang of it by now.)
"Hanging around military types a bit too long there, Blair?" Cordelia rolled her eyes, and then threw an apologetic look at Sam as the blonde elbowed her with a gentle, "Hey!" before slipping a hand into hers, only to find them wrenched apart as they surged into the chorus. (Please see animation for details <g>)
And the dancing went on…
Far from the rowdy merriment of the end-of-weekend party, Joxer was scratching his head. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "I've really got it this time: Avaunt ye, foul fiends of the uttermost pit, the seventh pit of Asharfarayel, Shaggalottal and the Nethermost Pits of Boffalot and the Ring of Fire that surrounds the four Caves of Mivanwie. The denizens of the Cave that Stands Alone in the Deepest Darkest Mountains of Bowanie. The evil spawn of Orlashmed, and the Destroyer of the Knights of Ni." He glanced hastily at the complicated chalkboard diagrams, "The Yuohahahaty Clan of the Ice Chasms of Therokszfbv, the Fripperty of the First through Sixth Circles of Fire and Noxious Gas. The Talahoulish family of KillWilly, Nebraska. The Clan of the Cave Bear, Bob, and the Ni-!Xxee-Wittly Tribe!" he finished triumphantly. "Hello...? Anyone...? Are you there...?"
The End