-Alright, I’m back. Albeit I’m late as usual, but it’s better than nothing. I’m going to try to update this at least once a month from now on, seeing as I have a job and have junior year homework to deal with besides my normal laziness. Anyway, I’ll do my best to keep it going. Um… this fic is going to have a bit more of a lighthearted tone, mostly because the next fic, Espionage, is going to be a long hell of a fic. In simple terms, Zone to Zone has a total of a bout fourteen chapters (some of which are very short). Espionage is between twenty-five and thirty chapters strong. So this is my lazy fic before I put my nose to the grindstone. For those of you new readers who were marginally interested, I am an AU writer. If you don’t like that, read something else, because I don’t want to hear about it. However, if you have constructive things to say about my writing style, flow, mechanics, or errors, include it in a polite review. For those of you who like that kind of thing, hopefully you’ll like this. And to my loyal readers: you rock. That’s all for now, questions numbered and at the bottom as usual. For you newbies, an explanation of Kazi points may be found at the top of my profile. Don’t worry, it’s a quick read. Oh, and be on the lookout for anon’s cameo appearance. (I will point it out when it comes along, but hopefully you’ll be astute enough to know when it’s been redeemed.)

Big Lie Small World

Slate clouds hung lazily in the air, the thermals from the sea absent in the stagnant weather. Flurries of snow drifted from wisps of gray haze, adding slowly to the drifts of snow already littering the streets of Bangor, Maine. The temperature wasn’t as chilly as it may have looked from indoors, but was ample reason for people to wear their wool sweaters and scarves. The chill however, did not prevent the populous from going out and enjoying the seemingly dismal weather. Many of the Christmas decorations were still alight on the main drag of the old downtown, wreathes, multicolored lights, and the omnipresent smell of cider still clinging to the last holds of the holiday before everyone returned their standard duties.

JJ Bannerman was one such walker. He wasn’t meandering, as most people were, but rather just out enjoying the day he, his two fathers, and his father’s friend were all sharing. His mother was off at work, busy with the campaign and more than happy to hand him over to the three older men for a day. They figured the best way to describe it was “male bonding,” which succinctly described how none of them cared what they were doing, as long as they were doing something.

So as the snow crunched beneath his feet, the plastic bag of comic books swinging in his left hand, he couldn’t help but consider it to be a good day.

His father, Walt (short for Walter he had just discovered) Bannerman, had supplied the general plans for the day. Most of which consisted of playing out in the snow while they still could, stopping only for the shortest of warm-up breaks so his mother wouldn’t come down on all of them for getting frostbite.

His birth father, Johnny Smith, had brought supplies. Locations of untouched snowdrifts proved more than useful, but so did the extra layers of clothing that he brought along. That, and the monumental flask of hot chocolate that he kept in his car, was proving to be the lingering fallback from the abundant cold.

And finally, Johnny’s best friend, Bruce Lewis, had supplied the sense of humor, as always. He had also offered to buy whatever lunch and or food stuffs they decided that they desperately needed throughout the day. This, now that they were at lunch, was proving infinitesimally useful.

Which was why the young Bannerman was now headed back to the small diner where the rest of his masculine posse waited. Comics in hand, he chose to make a small short cut to divide the time in which it would have usually taken him to go around the block. The alleys were wide, and the blocks were thin. So the chance of something bad happening was not only unlikely, but hard to miss due to the profusion of people. So in general, he would more than likely be safe on the small journey. He looked up and down the street, taking careful consideration to look down the alley through which he would be going. Even if he was the sheriff’s son, he still wasn’t impervious to danger.

Striding down the alley as quickly as his legs could carry him, he took a firmer grip on the bag of comics in his hand, checking to make sure that the leftover money still in his pocket was well out of sight. With all the things he had learned from his dad and Johnny, he had managed to succinctly dub himself as “no fool.” As much as they would have like to think he wasn’t listening, he always took time to carefully consider what adults told him when they gave their classic parental lectures.

Checking over his shoulder one more time, he sighed as he turned back around. And just as he was about to make the muttered statement that everything was clear, he was met with a gaggle of teenagers. They came in slowly, sauntering in from an adjacent alley beyond his line of cautious sight. They were rough looking, clad in muddy jeans, torn leather jackets, and a profusion of what smelled to be AXE deodorant.

And altogether, they didn’t look like they were out to spread peace on earth or goodwill towards anyone.

Taking a hesitant step backwards, JJ paused, taking a deep breath. He tried to keep a cool mindset like his dad always told him, and tried to think of his options as quickly as possible. He knew that fleeing was always an option, but the schoolboy in his head was nagging at him that such a tactic would not only be futile, but a downright sissy thing to do. He couldn’t fight, not when even the smallest of the group was twice his size. And something told him that these weren’t the kind of guys that could be put off by weighted words and legal threats.

So, he waited for them to make the first move. A familiar quote came to his mind. That there is no terror in the bang itself, but in the anticipation of it. (1)

When the largest of the boys stepped forward, JJ swallowed hard. He was undoubtedly the greasiest of the group, and to his great misfortune, he knew the boy. He had not only seen him in the police station a number of times, but he was also one of the most intimidating people at his school. He was old enough to be a freshman in high school, but apparently dumb enough not to be able to get out of the 7th grade.

Which, in physical standards, meant he was all but dead meat if the thug wanted to fight. Score one for intellect.

“Well, well. Seems the sheriff’s punk is all by his little lonesome,” the punk drawled boredly, his hands tucked away in his pockets as he took a lazy step forward. His name was Jared, last he remembered, and last he checked, he didn’t really want to remember. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Whatever it was that he was intending to do, it apparently wasn’t a big enough concern to do quickly. That, which, though disguised as a blessing, was only drawing out the beating to an unbearable crawl.

“It really is a pity though,” Jared continued, his hands coming out to rest on his hips as his stature seemed to grow before his very eyes, “I had always thought that you’d be a little bigger. Your dad’s a pretty tough guy. Guess you got the short end of the stick.”

When some of the cronies behind him chuckled, a dirty smirk rose on the adolescent’s face. And it only got wider when laughter echoed from behind JJ. Turning to face whatever new curse had arrived, the young Bannerman’s face paled drastically when he saw that more members of the gang had come up behind him, successfully blocking any escape route he had previously possessed.

He only minutely thought then that perhaps these thugs weren’t as stupid as they appeared.

JJ’s attention was immediately drawn back to the ringleader, more literally than figuratively anymore, when he heard the popping of knuckles from the older boy’s general direction. Turning on his heel, he was met with a now angered expression on the thug’s face.

Whatever it was that was going on, was not going to end well on his part.

The smirk on the bully’s face morphed, dropping slightly to form a facinorous (2) sneer. “Your daddy’s caused me a lot of trouble squirt. He’s ruined my business, and put my name on their list. I might not ever get the chance to get at him, but I sure as hell can get at you,” he growled, taking a step forward and pushing his sleeve up on his right arm, his hand clenching into a menacing fist.

A cry of pain stopped JJ’s voice before he could begin to try and speak. Any argument he may have had drawn away, something once again drawing his attention to behind him. Where, much to his dismay, he was met with another teenager. And at first, all he could think was that this one would be the one to beat the living daylights out of him. The newcomer was easily taller than himself, taller than any of the gang actually. He looked to be at least a sophomore in high school, and obviously a force to be reckoned with.

But after a moment, he realized that at the feet of the newcomer was one member of the group who had formed the wall to keep him from running away. The poor sap on the ground was clearly unconscious, but apparently not harmed in too severe a way. The other adolescents were backed away, forming a second wall around this intruder and looking like they sorely wished to stab the very ground this new teenager walked on. But none of them dared move against him, not with the monster of a black dog that was behind him. It seemed to be a black German Sheppard of nightmarish size, snarling at them with such ferocity that JJ feared it may have been rabid.

The older teen strode forward, the behemoth of a dog following behind him, still facing the back forces of the gang with not a hint of fear or hesitation. Though, the way the teen walked seemed to indicate that he had no intention of going into immediate action, and JJ minutely wondered if that were to change if the first punch was so foolishly thrown by their opposition.

“You’re being pretty asinine,” the new teen said, jerking his head to get his blank bangs away from his eyes. The cobalt eyes revealed looked down at the younger teen with detached interest, as if he were a teacher watching a student throw a tantrum. He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. From the view he had, to the young Bannerman the crossed arms were about eye-level, seeing as the top of his head only reached to about the new teen’s shoulder.

The gang leader snorted, pointing an accusative finger at him, adopting a look akin to that which the back wall of his gang had been wearing last time JJ had looked. “What would you know about it? Just get out of the way!” Jared roared, clearly angered by that minimal effort it took to defeat his lackey and the downward tone with which the older teen was addressing him.

“These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume,” (3) the dark teen replied, his dog emitting a low growl from behind him as the four remaining tailgaters edged towards the small trio.

The gang leader let out a raffish (4) yell, charging forward with his hands clenched into powerful fists as he ran at full force towards the two of them. JJ backed away quickly, whereas the older boy stepped forward and in front of him, sufficiently blocking him from whatever attack was passing his way. Sandwiched between two forces far greater than himself, JJ could only think to watch the action as it unfolded around him.

As the younger boy charged, the taller opponent crouched down a bit, his own arm cocking back. But the angle of the arm was lower, and JJ wondered what on earth he intended to do with such a twisted up punching arm. Instead of the elbow reaching up and over his shoulder, the older teen had brought it underneath the pit of his arm, the fist nestled so close to his chest he looked like he was going to block rather than punch.

But the block didn’t turn into anything as the older teen dodged the first punch, his shoulders dipping and angling forward as the fist once below his shoulder emerged at lightning speed. So fast what the transition from the fist being upside down to right side up that JJ could barely comprehend the movement, the wrist snapping in the right direction just before all of the force held in the teens arm connected with Jared’s chest.

The blow hit with immense force, and JJ cringed at the thud that it made as Jared toppled backward. Jared landed in a heap on the ground, winded and trying desperately to preserve a shred of dignity. But instead of getting up himself, he looked over his shoulder and roared, “GET HIM!”

The rest of the small group leapt into action, charging towards them with shouts and yells of assorted anger and pride. There were about five of them left, and they all seemed dead set on beating not only himself anymore, but the teenager so bravely protecting him.

Looking behind him, JJ saw that the German Sheppard was still at his side, snapping and snarling at the bullies behind him. But the dog never once turned its ferocity in his or the older teen’s direction, despite its avid ferocity. In his fleeting thoughts JJ then came to the conclusion that it had to have been some sort of law enforcement dog at some point or another, seeing as its training was so acute that even facing multiple enemies, it did not lose sight of what it was originally protecting.

“Oh, how it is a bitter dose to be taught obedience after you have learned to rule,” (5) the older teen said, drawing JJ’s attention with the obvious smile in his voice. And sure enough, there was a good-humored and obviously entertained smile on the older face. But what was so entertaining, JJ had yet to see.

Though, after thinking such, he realized that he would find out very soon.

Sure enough, the urban hero jumped forward a few feet, sufficiently dodging half of the group’s mal-placed punches, and imbedding himself in the absolute middle of their group. Once there, he dropped down onto his knees, his long legs lashing out amongst the knees of his opponents and sending a good three of them down with their commander. Who, unfortunately, had found the strength to get up again.

But this obvious fact seemed not to bother the teen as he sprang up again, bending like an acrobat around the blows sent in his direction. And such ease was this done with that it didn’t seem as if he were fighting at all, rather just playing a game with the younger boys for the name of sport and good fun.

But even as the fury of his opponents grew, they none of them could land even a finger on him.

The same however, could not be said of him.

He had landed at least one punch and one kick on every member of the gang facing him. And JJ had to give the younger boys some credit for being so hardy. Every time they went down, they just got back up. Albeit with each time around the getting up process was taking longer and longer.

In opposition to that, the process of downing the gang members was taking far shorter each time the older teen so gracefully did it. In fact so graceful was his method that JJ wondered if he was intentionally taking it easy on the younger boys. And that perhaps despite his obvious prowess, he was lessening his blow force to save the younger boys some grief.

Just as the fight seemed to be over, a heavy hand landed on JJ’s shoulder. Whirling around, he came face to face with one of the boys that had stood behind him. Now only a matter of inches away, JJ did the one thing that came to his fleeting thought train.

He kicked the boy, square on, right between the knees.

Falling like a ton of bricks, the elder boy curled in on himself, groaning in pain of that which only men knew the severity of. And though JJ felt minutely sorry for him, he couldn’t help but smile.

Perhaps he wasn’t as weak as he, and most of the rest of the world, thought he was.

Looking around, he found the black German Sheppard bounding back to him, nuzzling his leg and wagging its tail in an apologetic fashion. But the young Bannerman saw no need for apology when the absence of the other tailgaters was finally noticed. He offered his hand for the dog to smell, knowing that now the protectiveness was no longer needed, that he had ample reason to be careful around such a large animal. Much to his delight the dog didn’t even bother to smell his hand, and just licked it happily, nuzzling its soft ears against the palm of his hand.

Turning to see how the other part of the trio was doing, JJ found that the gang had finally been downed, all members lying dejectedly on the muddy floor of the alleyway. None of them seemed to be too damaged as far as physicality went, but JJ knew not what to say of their pride. And quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. His own skin was saved, which meant that none of his secondary gaggle would have to face the wrath of his mother when she got home that night to find him bruised.

The older boy looked down at him, a smile on his face. “You alright there?” he asked, his hands slipping into his pockets. His demeanor returned to a relaxed one, though JJ wasn’t sure if it had ever left throughout the course of the fight. In all of its impossible odds.

“Yeah,” JJ replied happily. “Thank you so much,” he said, offering a hand to the older boy. He owed him that much, and he wanted to say that he was at least on decently good terms with the person that had saved his hide.

“Hey,” the older teen said, shrugging and shaking his hand easily, “it’s not a problem. I saw that you were in trouble and thought I’d lend a hand. I’m just glad you’re alright. They didn’t get you too bad did they?”

JJ shook his head vigorously. “They didn’t get me at all thanks to you. I would have been in it deep if you hadn’t shown up. Is there any way I can repay you?” he asked. He really didn’t know what he had to offer at that point, but he knew his mother would be proud of him for being polite and respectful.

After she got done freaking out.

The older teen just shook his head. “Nah. Don’t worry about it. Just be more careful next time okay?” he said, stepping around the young Bannerman and making to exit the alleyway the same way he came in. Though, without as much riff raff in the way this time.

He heard the boy whistle, and the black dog at JJ’s side sprang to follow him. Though only after having bestowed one last lick upon his hand did it follow after its master.

JJ watched them go for a moment, but realized he had missed one aspect of his savior’s persona. “Wait!” he shouted after him, taking a step forward until he saw the older teen turn back.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The older teen just smiled at him, waving and saying simply, “Lazarus.” (6)

After he was around the corner, JJ followed, choosing to go around the block rather than risk another incident. But when he looked to see where Lazarus had gone along the course of the street, he saw no one. No dog, nothing.

Deeply confused and invigorated at the same time, the young boy set off at a jog to return to the café where the rest of his posse waited. Finding the trail much easier and less distant that he first thought, he scolded himself for being so lazy as to not want to walk an extra block.

Because in all reality, it would have taken much less time if he had just stuck to the streets.

Reaching the restaurant, he breezed through the door, barely hearing the bell on the door chime at his entrance. He all but ran to their table, setting the book of comics down hastily and opening his mouth to begin his hair-raising tale. None of them would believe it, but all of them knew better than to doubt his word on this sort of thing.

But just as he started to speak, Johnny greeted him with a smirk and a small statement. “Geeze JJ, what took you so long? We were afraid you got lost,” he teased lightly, a cup of coffee in one hand.

“Well I almost lost my head,” the son replied, resisting the urge to smile as the men at the table looked at him confusedly.

“What on earth are you talking about JJ?” his father asked, looking concernedly at him. “What do you mean you almost lost your head?”

“You know Jared Evans? You know, the guy that sells drugs and is a big bully at my school?” JJ said, waiting for the recognition to sink in.

“Yeah,” his father replied. “Why?”

“Well I was coming back from the comic store, and I thought I’d go through the alley so I could get here quicker. But he and his gang were in there and they were gonna beat me up,” he said, his excitement hastening his words.

“Wait, wait,” Bruce interjected, holding up a hand before a word could be said in edgewise. “What do you mean they were going to beat you up? Did you run or something?”

JJ shook his head. “No. There were some behind me too. And I mean they were going to beat me up, but this older teenager showed up. At first I thought he was with them, but he ended up beating all of them. He and his dog kept them from ever hurting me.”

All of the older men looked at him in surprise and disbelief. They were obviously thrilled that someone had stepped in, but confused at some other aspect of his story.

“Are you saying he beat them all up?” his father asked, sounding a bit disapproving.

“Not really,” JJ said. “He didn’t really hurt any of them, he just wore them out. You should have seen him Dad. And his dog! It was huge! It was like, a German Sheppard only monstrous. But it was really nice, and helped keep the goons behind me from hurting me. It was so cool,” he finished, hoping to find some sort of approval from the older men.

Bruce snorted, smiling with his signature lopsided smile. “Yeah, I’d say having someone save my butt is pretty cool too. How many of them were there anyway?”

JJ paused, thinking back. “Um… about seven or eight. I didn’t really have time to count,” he replied. He mentally shook his head, thinking of how, even despite the age difference, the teen’s odds of winning had been drastically small compared to his odds of losing. And despite his bad luck, JJ thought that he couldn’t have had more luck as far as heroes were concerned, because at that moment he had gotten the cream of the crop.

Walt Bannerman shook his head. “And you say this one kid beat all of them? How old was he? Twenty?”

The younger Bannerman shook his head. “No. I think he was in High School, but I don’t know how old he was.”

Johnny shook his head, his tired blue eyes shining with a smile. “Did you at least get his name? Sounds like you owe this guy quite a thank you.”

JJ nodded proudly. “Yeah. Does the name Lazarus mean anything to you?” he asked, hoping that one of them would have heard of the strange teen. If any of them had, then it would be a prime chance to prove his story right. Even though it appeared as though the adults believed him, it always helped to have evidence. And if he could find the hero, he could all but publish his story as fact.

But much to his dismay all of the adults just shook their heads, apparently holding no recognition for the name.

“So this Jared kid, he’s been in the station before right?” his father asked, apparently checking to see if his facts were correct. Which, as far as JJ’s knowledge went, they were.

“Yeah. He’s pretty mad at you for messing with his business. He’s… also one of the main bullies at our school,” JJ said, rubbing his hands in an attempt to warm them up from his stint outside.

“You know,” Johnny said, looking at JJ with an understanding expression, “he who strikes terror into others is himself in continual fear (7). Just because he looks and acts tough doesn’t mean he actually is. I bet you anything he’s mad at your dad because good old Sheriff Bannerman scares him.”

His father nodded. “Johnny’s probably right. But just because I mess with his business doesn’t mean he has the excuse to beat you up. Next time I see him, we’re going to have a talk. Not just about his business, but about our business. Seeing as he’s made it his own.”

JJ smiled at his father. Now that he was informed, there was no chance in hell that Jared was going to bother him again. Especially with the contacts and other such advantages that came with being sheriff. So now, despite all the danger that he had potentially been in that day, he was much better off than he had been at the beginning of the day.

The men rose, and JJ slid out of the booth to accommodate. They seemed to have finished their lunches in his absence, and were now ready to go out once more into the frozen world beyond the walls of the café. As they went, Bruce piped in from his place at Johnny’s side, “I just thought of a quote that I heard from one of the physical therapists that I work with. He’s into yoga and all that philosophical stuff, and I heard him say once, “Force is all conquering, but its victories are short lived. (8)” Kinda fits doesn’t it?”

JJ couldn’t help but agree.

Once they left the confines of the café, the three men were greeted by a large group of boys rushing across the street towards them. One in front went straight up to Walt, a hurt and desperate look on his face.

It was Jared.

“Mr. Bannerman, we just got beat up! You’ve gotta go after this kid, he’s a maniac. He’s got a rabid dog and attacked us for no reason! We didn’t even do anything,” he said desperately, holding his arm in an injured fashion.

The elder Bannerman’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? That’s not what I heard,” sidestepping to reveal his son behind him.

Jared blanched at the sight of the younger Bannerman, obviously not having made the connection that if one Bannerman was in the area, then the other one probably wasn’t all too far behind.

“I think you and I need to have a talk Jared. Why don’t you come by the station with me and we’ll call your parents,” Walt said, taking the boy by the shoulder and leading him towards his car. “In fact,” he said, turning to the rest of them, “why don’t you all come down to the station? I’m sure the guy’s will love to have something to do on such a slow day.”

Upon hearing this, the remaining gang members bolted. Disappearing like a Vegas magic trick, the small group was left with one miscreant, looking as if he wanted to disappear into whatever was available.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later alright? Jared and I have some business,” the sheriff said, winking and leading the dejected boy away.

JJ was smiling ear to ear, feeling a sense of pride bubble in his chest. He felt Johnny’s hand rest on his shoulder, and turned to follow the other men towards Johnny’s car. They would wait for the other man to return before continuing, but that didn’t mean they had to wait out in the cold. They would more than likely head back to Johnny’s house and flip channels until their group was whole again.

“Big lie, small world, huh JJ?” (9) Johnny said, looking down at the young boy as they reached his car, releasing his shoulder and meandering over to the driver’s side of the vehicle (10).

The boy only nodded, pausing before his birth father’s car as he looked across the street. In the shadow of an alleyway across the street was a large black dog, and as he recognized it, it turned and ducked back into the shadows beyond his sight. In its wake the young Bannerman smiled, shaking his head and getting into the car.

It was a small world after all.

-Yay! The first chapter is finally done! I don’t really have any comments as the current moment, save for that I’ll probably try to get another update up over Thanksgiving break. If not, just expect one sometime during December. The questions throughout the chapter will be below, so please include your answers in your review so you can get some Kazi points. And like I said, this competition the top two Kazi point winners get cameos in Espionage, so work hard. That, and this is the first chapter, so give me a bit to get readjusted to writing. If there are errors, I'm sorry, but right now I'm just happy I got it done. Thanks all. R&R please.

1) Who/Where is this quote from?

2) What does this word mean? What is its etymology?

3) What play is this from? Who wrote it? What scene is it from? What act is it from?

4) What does this word mean? What is its etymology?

5) Who/where is this quote from?

6) What is the significance of the name Lazarus? EC: Why would he choose it as a surname?

7) Who/where is this quote from?

8) Who/where is this quote from?

9) What song is this lyric from? Who is it by? What album is it on?

10) What kind of car does Johnny Smith own? What color is it? (take into consideration that it is winter, and that he would not want a car with no top)

Peace,

dzd