Disclaimer: I do not own Twister.

Author's Notes: I've decided to Americanise my spelling in this fic. Realize instead of realise and so forth.

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He expects the punch.

Some part is a little disappointed when it doesn't escalate; Bill only knocks his hat off, grabbing him.

"I really enjoy your weather reports," he says, smiling when Bill yells after him.

Bill's never given an on-screen weather report in his life, and he likely never will.

The passive-aggressive jab still feels wonderful on Jonas's tongue.

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"Lab geek or field boy," Jonas inquired, looking up from his notes. When the man looked at him in puzzlement, he explained, "Jo doesn't like you; she sends everyone who pisses her off here. I get to deal with them. If you're here for research, this is our pathetic excuse for a lab. If you're a tornado chaser, tell me everything you said to Jo and what she said to you; I'll try to give you enough advice so that one or both of you don't end up facing a first degree murder charge."

"If one of us killed the other-"

"I'm still perfecting the speech," Jonas groused, good-naturedly.

"Well, you've impressed me," the man said, sitting down. "I'm a chaser. Bill Harding, nice to meet you."

"Doctor Jonas Miller," he said, shaking Bill's hand. "Jo hates me because people are always asking if she and I are related due to the similar names; most people don't have an ear for accents, it seems."

"Professional of her."

"Jo's one of the best field girl's I've ever met," Jonas replied, neutrally. "She might have a chance of not getting tragically killed."

"That's- optimistic."

"No offence intended," Jonas said, going back to his notes. "You're all adrenaline junkies from what I can tell. I'm in it for the science, not the rush. I've wrote paper after paper on how to chase tornadoes as safely as possible and still collect the necessary data, but you can't force tedium on a junkie."

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"Government funding," Jo repeated in disgust.

"Our prototype is never going to be built unless we get outside help, Jo."

She sighed. "It's all about regulations with them. No wonder you don't see a problem with that; you have no instincts, Jonas, for chasing."

"That's what your boyfriend constantly tells me." At her look, he inquired, "Am I wrong? I thought you and Bill-"

"It's complicated," she answered, wryly.

"Unless it can be used to get us the money we need, I'm not interested. I have the instincts to stay out of the complicated love dramas of my coworkers."

"'Complicated love dramas'," she repeated, laughing.

Picking up a folder, he tried to swat her.

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"Corporate sponsorship," Bill said, quietly. "You know how they're going to use that data, Jonas. They'll use the figures to scare people into buying stuff they don't need and probably can't afford."

"Not my concern," Jonas answered. "I find the figures, I deliver them to other meteorologists and scientists, and they help develop strategies to save lives. If they start showing up in ads, the general public will be exposed to them faster than if we wait until the government finally gets around to issuing PSAs, which will also cause people to buy stuff they probably don't need in order to feel save. You know, the average citizen can't tell you the first thing about twisters other than, 'Oh, I heard that that tornado in Arizona destroyed that schoolhouse; those poor families.' All the while, if the teachers had been trained in doing more than telling the kids to get under their desks with their hands over their heads, they might still be alive. The only ones who know anything important are the geeks who develop an interest and those who've survived or lost loved ones to a tornado."

"Jo is going to freak."

"She's getting even more erratic," Jonas said, steeling himself. "She almost got us killed last week, Bill, and you know it. If you're willing to risk your life with hers, fine, but try to remember there are other people besides the two of you on this team."

Bill paused. "You're thinking of going out on your own. Getting the sponsorship, putting together your own team, aren't you? You don't want to go against us, Jonas."

"No," Jonas admitted. "I don't. But I also don't want to get killed. I'm getting the sponsorship, and I'm going to start following protocol. I need a team I can trust."

"You know I'd never put you in harm's way."

"Not intentionally. I sometimes think you need a leash, Bill, and your wife- Jo's got an honest-to-God vendetta against a weather phenomenon."

"We're taking Dorothy."

Shrugging, Jonas said, "Go ahead. Without the money, she's never going to be anything but an unrealized idea on your part."

Standing, Bill said, "You have no instincts, Jonas. All the money in the world isn't going to get you any. You've lost sight of the mission."

"My mission has always been to help save lives. You and Jo are junkies looking for the next high."

Bill walked out without another word, and Jonas sighed, banging his head against the table.

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Jonas never wanted anyone to die. He reaches over to close the other man's eyes.

How does opening the door and letting the tornado take you make any sense?

Jonas, Jonas, Jonas. When it lets go of the car, that's some heavy impact. You survive being drawn inside, you can likely survive the impact when it drops you off. Aren't you supposed to be the geek who tells us these things?

Not thinking, he takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. Bye, Bill, Joe, he thinks, closing his eyes as he hears the strangest, loudest sound he's ever heard in his life. Take care.

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"This is Jo Harding."

"Mrs Harding, this is Doctor Spencer from Cade, Louisiana."

"Louisiana?"

"Yes, ma'am. We have a John Doe here who had a newspaper clipping in his pocket of you and your husband, as well as a picture of the three of you together. White male-"

"Blond hair, blue eyes, southern accent," Jo inquires, interrupting.

"Yes, ma'am. He's amnesiac."

"J-just a minute, please," she says, setting down the phone. "Bill! Bill!"

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Author's Notes 2: I have no idea what to do if you get near a tornado while in a car. Don't take any advice on tornados found in this fic as legitimate.