Title: Johnny Survivor
Rating: PG (Innuendo, what can I say?)
Summary: The twisted brainchild of a weirdo in desperate need of new ideas for writing material. Lucky story doesn't know what hit it. What happens when Johnny Depp in a good deal of his incarnations get stuck on an island to play... well... Survivor? And more important... when those incarnations' Angels spur me on to greatness (cough)?
Author's Notes: You asked for it, JA. I didn't think this first chapter would ever end but... heh, it did! And... if some of the people aren't right, 1) you'll know exactly who I'm talking about, 2) I either didn't know them or they just weren't talking to me. And I kind of liked the idea of getting that Sunday deadline spot on, if you know what I mean. Without further ado, the longest part of the story yet!
Chapter 1 In which our heroes are taken by force to the place of the competition
Captain Jack Sparrow took one last look about the ship to make sure there was nothing more to be done before he left for his month-long excursion to win a much-coveted prize. Not that Jack really had any idea what the prize was, but honestly, who didn't like prizes? Besides, it sounded like he couldn't commandeer it all by his onesies, or even twosies with CC.
CC was behind the wheel. She'd miss her pirate, no doubt about that, but he did need to get out more. And no, wandering off to the Cantina did NOT count. Besides, she'd have time to catch up on her recent Harry Potter affliction and hopefully recover enough before Jack decided the set of books would make nice life savers.
"Ye'll take care o' th' Pearl, won't ye, luv?" the Captain asked, concern showing in his expression. CC merely rolled her eyes.
"How many times do I have to tell ye? I'll be fine. I managed all right when DB borrowed ye!"
"O' course, ye did, luv! I was jes' makin' sure is all. She'll be swabbed daily...?"
"And the crew kept in line...?"
"And absolutely no pillaging until I return!"
"Jack! Get on already, ye bloody scalawag!"
Jack backed away, his hands up, "All right, all right, ye made yer point. Until next time, luv, I'll-"
CC never got to hear the rest of the message. Jack had tumbled over the side of the Black Pearl and was currently splashing below to get his bearings back. A small motorboat had pulled over beside the distraught figure and hauled him on board.
"Remember, you signed a release!" a voice cried as the little boat zoomed out of sight. There was just time enough to see the Survivor logo emblazoned on the side...
The sun was already up, awake, and ready to burn the retinas of anybody foolish enough to look in the East that uneventful morning. The sand in the ring was radiating heat like a demonic microwave oven and the Sands in the top box trying to avoid the worst of the high temperatures was exuding coolness and collectivity.
"Listen, Sands, we have to turn on the air conditioner. It's too hot not to!"
"We don't have to do anything. It's fine the way it is."
"Are you insane? It's 96 degrees! AT 8 IN THE MORNING!"
"It's a dry heat," Sands smirked at his overwrought Angel.
"Fine, I'll do it and you can consider yourself getting a cold shoulder in more ways than one, savvy?" Arenas rolled her eyes. An 86 degree 'dry heat' in the North at high noon was far too much. It was AC or someone could bask in the middle of the arena with his need for excruciating heat. She turned the dial to High Cool and sighed with pleasure at the immediate blast of stale (but nice) Mexican air. The poor, decrepit machine wasn't on more than 5 seconds when Sands decided it was his way and screw the consequences. He began to methodically squeeze the trigger of the first weapon he pulled out of his pants. As the AC sputtered and sparked indignantly, Arenas rounded on her oh-so-stubborn Johnny.
"What, pray tell was that for and where'd you get my water pistol?"
"I told you I didn't want it on and I found it. Anymore questions?" Sands smiled calmly before squirting Arenas in the middle of the forehead.
"Yeah, are you sure you don't have a possibly evil schizophrenic personality bent on the misery of those around you? Possibly goes by your middle name...?"
"Now where'd you get that crazy idea?"
"Nowhere, nowhere at all," her mouth finally broke into the first smile of the day. Partly to get him back for the still smoking AC and partly because it would be a long 39 days without him, Arenas leaped into his arms with a happy, reckless abandon. He stumbled slightly from the unexpected action, but didn't let go.
"And what's this for?"
"It's a goodbye hug and kiss, what else would it be? I'm gonna' miss you, boyo. Win something, play nice and don't shoot anybody."
"I'll try not to if you'll stop suffocating me," Sands replied, a slight wheeze in his voice. The Agente blushed and released the Agent.
"If it's a money gig, you're buying a new AC. You ready?"
"As always, sugarbutt.
Arenas saw fit to see her Johnny off to fame and glory like the perfectly devoted damsel she wasn't. Some stroke of luck found a car already out front waiting for Sands. They both would have normally questioned something like that had the driver not immediately ushered Sands into the back of the sports car with fervor.
"We're late! Come on, come on, move it!"
Arenas didn't even have time to blink before the car hit a pot hole and sped away.
The Bubble Den was alive and hopping as per usual. Iggy and Abberline were sharing a relaxing puff of the same bubble wand when the owner of the establishment walked somberly up to the carefree pair.
"Sir, you are wanted outside on urgent business," the man murmured, head bowed. Both, expecting the worst, jumped up and strode purposefully towards the door. If the Ripper was back and roaming the streets, the better off they'd be if they had a fast start.
The eerily lit street was devoid of all life. Even the animals had chosen to hole in. Of course, it could have been the anachronistic 2001 Acura idling in the middle of the street. Something about the strange and unusual usually makes people uneasy. Abberline was even a tad leery. It was Iggy that took the initiative to knock on the driver's side window.
"Can I help you? I don't really think you're in the right... time..." Iggy called tentatively into the crack that appeared in the window.
"You've participated in enough Angel Adventures to know that logic doesn't apply when one has the strength of imagination. How do you think we picked up Captain Jack?" If the voice had a face, (and it was fairly likely it did) Iggy could imagine it would be currently wearing a lazy Cheshire cat-like smile. It sounded far too pompous and self-confident to be healthy.
"Point taken," her brows furrowed, trying to remember if there was any reason there was a 21st century car sitting outside a 20th century bubble den. She turned to Fred to see if he was having better luck with it when it suddenly dawned on her.
"This wouldn't be that thing where you take Fred and make him go on an island to bond with the natives and other Johnnies under an unforgiving sun, half-naked, possibly wet and covered in sand?"
"That would indeed be the one."
"You know, you put it in such black and white terms," Abberline smiled at his Ingenious Inspectorette.
"Well, I can't say the idea is completely unappealing," she blushed. Abberline wrapped her in a comforting hug.
"Don't worry about it. You keep this place free of most heinous crimes and I'll be sure to bring you back a souvenir. How does that sound?"
"Like a plan, my clever Inspector."
"I hate to break up this little party hear, but we've got a schedule folks. My last appointment already got me quite a bit behind so if you please!" the voice was agitated. Fred rolled his eyes and shared a last kiss with Iggy before climbing into the back seat of the car. He waved out the back window until the end.
Atop a menacing mountain was an aging mansion with but two occupants. Both of them were currently huddled around a candle holding 7 plastic playing cards.
"Got any 6's Edward?"
"No, I-I don't."
"You have to say, 'Go fish'; that's the name of the game."
"Oh, go fish."
"Now it's your turn to ask me for a card."
"Could I have your 8?"
As the duo continued their casual card game, an insistent car horn wafted up through the broken windows. LMM froze, not liking the implications of that car horn. Edward seemed to be following her train of thought.
"The hidden room in the laboratory," he whispered, his face, if possible, growing even paler. LMM nodded and led the way through the maze-like building to the trapdoor beneath the late professor's examination table. They held their breath as they heard the front door creak open.
"Aw, you're gonna' make me look for you aren't you? Come on out, Edward, I've got a lot of Johnnies to collect and I'm behind already," the voice moaned as if thinking of all the work it had yet to get to. LMM traded a confused glance with Edward before peeking up from under the trap door. She was met with the image of an unsightly pair of large feet.
"Eep!" The trapdoor slammed back down on the pair. How'd he get there so bloody fast?
"Oh come on! Please come out? I don't bite!" the voice sighed unhappily.
"Who are you and why are you here?" LMM's muffled voice floated up through the boards.
"I've come to round up Edward so he can try to win a prize against lots of other Johnnies, does that sound reasonable?"
"Oh, wait, I know you! Hey, Edward, it's okay," LMM sighed with relief. They proceeded to climb out of the floor, Edward having a bit more trouble than his Angel. Once they were both upright and facing the man come to fetch Edward, they got down to the nitty-gritty.
"So I'm not going to see Edward for a month?"
"You can watch him on TV, but yes, this is the last you'll be seeing of him for a little while."
"Aw, Edward... I'm going to miss you!"
"Where am I going?"
"To that island, remember we talked about it?"
"I... I can't."
LMM latched onto her Johnny and hugged him fiercely. Edward managed to squeeze lightly with his wrists but anything more would have been hazardous to his Ice Angel. He did not want a repeat of what happened in Suburbia.
"Be careful, Edward. I love you," LMM whispered.
The Johnny Collector coughed somewhat impatiently as he waited for the exposition to end. The two parted and Edward was led outside by LMM and the other man. It was sure turning out to be a weird day.
It was Mort who surprisingly woke Psnoo up from her midmorning nap. When she finally cracked open an eyelid to stare balefully up at the anxious Mort, she wasn't in the best of moods. That was unfortunately the price of staying up late writing fanfics.
"I uh... well, I... I'm leaving," Mort finally managed to announce. Psnoo managed to snap the other eye open in response to this sudden proclamation. Didn't Mort already try this once? It was a minute before she could remember what exactly Mort was talking about and yet another before she could speak rationally.
"Could you close the blinds on the way out?"
"Well... if you wouldn't mind watching the corn," Mort remarked, slightly hurt that Psnoo didn't seem to care much more than catching up on her sleep. Psnoo picked up on this and sighed.
"I'm sorry, Mort, but you really have to get a better sense of timing. I was asleep," she complained. Mort's mouth twitched into a slight smile.
Psnoo got up from the couch and grasped the writer by the shoulders. "Mort, you won't guilt me into letting you stay. You know I love you, but you've been cooped in this cabin too long. I'd rather appreciate it if you didn't go Shooter on me and a little male bonding would do you good. To grunt and scratch yourself to your heart's content."
"I don't grunt and scratch."
"Because I won't let you. If you find yourself forgetting your love struck Angel, here's a little something to remember me by," Psnoo punctuated the statement with a slap to his backside. Before he could ask the inevitable, she decided to enlighten him. "It's that removable back pocket I've been working on. Velcro. Just don't go swimming with it on; I tried that once and I spent weeks cleaning out what had collected in there."
"I'll have to keep that in mind." Mort blushed profusely, "I'll be seeing you then. Don't let the corn go unwatered, please."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Psnoo smiled sleepily as she followed Mort to the doorway. Watched as he climbed into the SUV and was driven to adventures unknown until the first episode aired. Returned to the couch. It was a stubborn shaft of light in her eye that reminded her of a depressing fact. Mort had forgotten to shut the blinds on the way out.
It was an uneventful evening on the Las Vegas strip. Casino signs lit with esoteric lights and music from hotel floor shows floated through the pseudo-darkness. The combined effects of the psychedelic Strip worked to draw customers into the various buildings like moths to a porch light. This only aided the bats in their brisk trade of human abduction.
"Look! Up in the sky! It's a blackjack dealer!" FF cried dramatically.
"Oh no you don't, you pig-!"
Duke didn't dignify that with an answer as he lengthened his strides to try and catch up with the near invisible flock of bats. Even from that distance, Duke and FF could tell that the poor dealer was visibly shaking. The occasional screech from one of the numerous bats would cause him to yelp and attempt to cower in fear.
"Piggy, fly ahead and take Fishy with you!" FF yelled at her little bat who was flying reconnaissance above. He dove with a squeak and picked up Fishy to continue the hunt. They had managed on several incidents to catch up with the flock and attempt to seriously perturb the rearward bats. It was then that an independent squadron would come around and viciously attack the duo. They didn't try the same tactic again.
"Come on down here you pigs!" Duke managed to gasp out as a last ditch effort to try and intimidate the rats with wings. FF sighed slightly before outdistancing her fiend and with a flying leap, latched onto the distressed dealer's pant leg. Acting as dead weight with little cooperation on the part of the dealer, she managed to get them to sink closer to the ground with their combined weight. And there was Duke, ready to catch them both. This resulted in a maddening knot of limbs in which time the bats decided to fly away sullenly. The dealer, the first to disentangle himself, ran away before he showed any sign of gratitude.
"Hey! Wait a minute! Come back and have a beer!" Duke called.
"Aw, I'm gonna' miss him." FF frowned, "I need a chocolate orange, can you pass my case?"
"Case? I left them back at the hotel!"
The Fearless Fiend gave an anguished moan, "Aw, Duke! I thought you were in charge of the cases!"
Duke sighed, not relishing the thought of a boring trip back to the hotel without a sniff, snort, swallow or lick of something out of his case. 5 blocks was entirely too far. Piggy squeaked in sympathy as Fishy glubbed in agreement. It was then that Piggy gave a squeal comparable to his (more commonly known) namesake. It was a flying case! The Vegas afterglow glinted off the metallic lining and snaps; it looked awfully familiar...
Duke chewed on his cigarette holder in thought and a little bit of the Fear. FF, candyette holder lodged firmly in the corner of her mouth, did likewise. Piggy dove into and huddled in FF's coat pocket. The mystic case was now hovering above the Fiend and her fiend with no hint as to the nature of its preternatural flying abilities. Neither of them had the time to get on top of what happened next.
"What the-...? What the -!"
"I wasn't going to swear!"
"Duke, get back down here!"
"It's the winds of the great Magnet! I can't defy him!"
The Doctor of Journalism was floating just as mysteriously as his infamous black case. He had no means of getting down and whatever was keeping him aloft showed no sign of changing its mind.
FF again tried leaping in desperation, jarring Piggy into an inelegant flight. It was then, amid the shouts, chaos and general freak-out that the 'force' revealed itself to be very fuzzy.
"ARG!!! No, it's the bats! You can't do this, you swine!" Duke cried between bouts of laughter from the ticklish bat fuzz against his exposed stomach. Unfortunately, even with aid of her flyswatter, FF just wasn't tall enough to swat the buggers into oblivion. So the bats flew away with Duke and his case unchallenged.
"It just isn't possible," FF sniffed, "My Johnny's been Johnny-napped!"
The campfire in front of the teepee was bright enough to see for several yards in all directions. Raphael was huddled around the blaze to keep warm, for it was his turn to keep watch that night. He glanced back at the darkened entrance of the teepee and felt a wave of sadness wash over him at the sight of his dear Symbolic Sacrifice sleeping with a duck clutched tight in her arms.
"You look like my Angel, a living, breathing doll," he murmured. "When did we drift apart?" If he expected answer, he was really very surprised when he heard a sleep muddled voice reach his sharp ears.
"Raphael? What's wrong, blossom?"
"Nothing, nothing," Raphael shook his head and returned his gaze to the orange fire. He didn't want to have a confrontation mar the eve before his departure for the island. They'd both discussed Raphael's leaving before... before Raphael found he could no longer stand to share his Angel with some foppish man who played with spoons. He wasn't a jealous man, really. He just didn't like to see his family torn apart. SS was his family.
"You're brooding again."
"No I'm not," Raphael shrugged, his back still turned towards the teepee. There was some quiet grumbling before SS plopped down beside her primary Johnny, all wrapped up in furs to keep warm. She was still holding the duckie.
"No, you never brood unless something is seriously troubling you. Now do I have to wheedle it out of you or will you be willing to tell me?"
"I don't want you to be unhappy SS," Raphael whispered.
"When you're unhappy, I'm unhappy. It works both ways," SS pointed out.
"But you love James. Why don't you get a transfer and-..."
SS cut him off before he could finish the macabre thought. "I don't want a transfer. That's why I gave James up."
"Because, because. And you aren't getting anything better than that tonight."
"I suppose I should be grateful," Raphael mumbled.
"Only if you honestly feel grateful. I'm going back to sleep, blossom. Please, please try not to take it all too personally?"
"Oh blossom," SS hugged him fiercely, but briefly before returning to the cave. She didn't want to impose her presence on him right now, knowing where he stood on the James debate. Only time would tell.
Raphael wasn't there when she woke up the next morning.
Donnie Brasco was finishing up his last set of reps when Bella wandered into the living room.
"Hey, Donnie. I thought you said you were out of the mafia business," she asked, puzzled.
"I am, why do you ask?" Donnie's face was a mixture of fear and confusion. If he was going to be involved in another incident like the one he was in with Lefty, he would sooner end it before it began.
"There's some guy on the phone asking for you by Donnie, not Joe. I sure hope you know what this is about."
"I can assure you that I don't."
"Then come on in here and answer it so we can both get a better idea about what's going on."
Donnie sighed, seeing no way out and plucked the portable phone out of his Angel's hand.
"This Donnie Brasco?"
"No, ah... Donnie ain't around no more."
"Oh stop, I know it's you. I was merely being polite is all."
"Who is this?"
"You wouldn't know me, but I'm going to be picking you up for a rollicking adventure you'll never forget. I just figured I'd call first, let you know I'm coming and that I'm behind schedule, so you'd better be ready when I get there."
"Pack your belongings and be on the car in 10 minutes, all right? You won't be around for more than a month, so get cracking. Chop, chop!"
The line went dead and Donnie stared at Bella.
"He sounded adamant about it."
"If you think you want to do it, then go ahead. Maybe it'll be good to get you away from those confounded weight machines for a little while."
"Well, if you insist..."
"Donnie, don't pin this on me," Bella pecked her street savvy Johnny on the cheek. "Now if you truly want to do this, I'd say get a move on, before that guy shows up."
"I guess I want to do this," Donnie snorted, trying to set the whirlwind events in perspective. It seemed he was going on a trip without his Angel, and it'd be for awhile. Well, he wasn't FBI for nothing, was he?
"Where are my good luck boxers?"
"Oh, Sam, I'm so excited for you! You're going to have so much fun with all the other Johnnies!" Rollie grinned happily as she packed Sam an iron and two tennis rackets, lest one decide to break in the harsh wilderness.
Sam seemed the more apprehensive of the two, with good reason. 39 days without the comforts of old movies, tapioca and plastic silverware? Oh he could just shudder at the thought! But he wouldn't, he refused to. He'd do it for Rollie.
"Look! The iron works on batteries! As long as you have a lot, you can make grilled anything on a piece of wood or a flat rock!" Rollie made sure to pack extra batteries.
"I can't wait," Sam smiled slightly, happy to see his Angel so enthusiastic. He could believe that if given half a chance, his Angel would be engaged in her favorite activity: rolling.
"Sam, you're going to do great! You're so sweet and charming; the other Johnnies will love you!" Rollie spared a quick hug and peck on the cheek for her blushing Johnny before continuing her bustle about the apartment. Gosh he loved her.
"I'll try my best," Sam nodded, his smile widening even more.
"Just have fun, luv! Don't worry about the competition. Just get out there and make friends with the other Johnnies. Who knows? Maybe we'll have some new poker buddies to play with!" Rollie's complexion flushed slightly as she thought of several Johnnies in the same room playing poker. It was almost too good to be true! But there would only be one for her; he was the most adorable, sweet, funny and charming one of them all.
Sam found he didn't have an answer to that passion, so he simply watched as a pair of suspenders and his top hat went into the suitcase next. At last, his darling Angel had thought of everything; she remembered to pack a full set of plastic silverware complete with soup spoon and fish fork. He could just kiss her.
"Rollie, I... I love you," he said quietly. That was the point of no return for poor Dances With Rolls. She just up and fainted after a little squeal of happiness. Sam contained a snort of laughter and propped her up in his arms on the floor.
"I love it when you say that, Sam! I love you too!" she smiled happily.
"I would like to serenade you on the floor... but I'm afraid my arms are falling asleep," Sam blushed.
"Ask and ye shall receive, luv! This calls for a celebration!" Rollie announced after climbing back up to her feet with a nice bruise to show for her swoonfulness.
"My last grilled cheese sandwiches for a whole month," he uttered, more than a little bewildered. He was really going away for a little over a month. It was happening so fast and... and it would be a good chance to have some exotic fun.
An hour later, after the dishwasher was devoid of crabs and dishes, the doorbell rang. It was Sam's ride, in an incredibly cranky mood.
"You're the last individual one and I'd really like to move this along here. Can you keep this to a small goodbye peck? You'll be saving me an awful lot of grief."
Rollie simply couldn't oblige. She grabbed Sam tightly and hugged for all she was worth whilst managing to share several long and passionate kisses.
"I'll miss you Sam, don't give up!" she called as he was led down the stairs and outside to the idling vehicle and driven off to an exciting journey.
DB's bio thread was a positive bustle of activity. There were people of all sorts come to see off their Johnnies, including some who had been in this sketch previously. There were sidekicks, and foster angels and angels in waiting crowded together to form the rowdiest send off crew you ever did see.
"I'll take care of your horse Cesar, you can count on me. Gonzo will help, won't you, Gonzo?" RGJ turned to her own equine companion with a loving gaze. Cesar's own mount whinnied happily to be left to the ministrations of her master's soon to be Angel. Cesar hugged RGJ in fond farewell.
"I promise to return shortly," he nodded. Nothing much more really needed to be said between the two of them.
"Bon-bon, you'd better behave yourself, you hear me?" Arenas tried to give the transvestite her best evil eye only wind up in a little ball on the floor laughing harder than she ever had before. Bon-bon simply huffed.
"I'm sorry, I really am," the flushed Angel bit her lip, "I see that you're packing awfully light. Are you sure you won't need more stuff?"
"My important possessions are stored where it counts," Bon-bon managed to look even more dignified and poised. Arenas simply couldn't handle the strain of following her own advice and behaving. She managed to squeeze Bon-bon's shoulder as a last goodbye, and strode out of DB's thread before she could embarrass herself further. Unbeknownst to her, Gabriel had a red heart on his LCD monitor.
It was FF's turn to say adios to her fostered Johnny, Tobey.
"Now none of that swearing, okay? If... if..." FF managed to calm herself down, "If you see Duke, you're both to sensor each other, do you hear me? And SJ will probably need some encouragement too."
"Oh FF, I can't-..."
"Yes you can. Here, I'll send Fishy along. Duke never was fond of Piggy, but you can put Fishy to work and if you ever get lonely, you can give him a kiss."
"That was just one time, FF-..."
Fishy glubbed in agreement.
"Get on you two, before I change my mind, you hear me! Must... write... fanfiction... to... alleviate... sorrow!" FF sniffled. AJB perked up upon hearing that announcement and stored that away for future reference.
"It's okay Intrépida, they'll both be back before you know it," DB clapped a companionable hand on her former Angelkick's shoulder.
"I know, but I never even got to say goodbye to Duke, wherever he is," FF whimpered.
"Never fear, FF! My sensors detect that Duke is alive and well with the rest of the Johnnies," Gabe beamed happily.
"Really? I could kiss you, Gabe!"
"Maybe just a little one," the computer blushed.
"Gabe!" DB cried.
"Or not," he immediately added, chagrined.
Nearby, both AA and ILA were sharing similar farewells with their chosen Johnnies.
"I'm sorry I haven't gotten to bond with you much yet, Gilbert, but I promise when you get back we'll do lots of stuff together. Is that okay?" AA asked.
"It sounds wonderful. Can you hold down the fort when I'm gone?" Gilbert seemed reluctant either to leave, or to ask that of his Angel to be. Perhaps both, as were he not leaving, he wouldn't have to ask.
"Don't worry, Gilbert. I can do it. Take care of yourself and concentrate on doing the best you can. You'll do great because you're Gilbert," AA gave Gilbert a last squeeze around his midsection. Gilbert returned the gesture before going to join the other unAngeled, but seen-off Johnnies.
"Axel, don't get yourself hurt, okay? I love you far too much, if it wasn't very obvious," ILA engaged Axel in a sort of staring contest that neither person won.
"They way I understand it, it'll be an island. There will be lots of fish that will make sure I don't get too far out of it. I hope I can understand their dialect..." Axel paused thoughtfully as he analyzed the differences between a southern Pacific fish and an Alaskan fish.
"I bet you will. Just listen like you always do and you'll be fine. And no matter what the other Johnnies say, you're better than all of them. You're a dreamer" ILA grinned. Axel dignified that with several chicken clucks. ILA giggled, and gave him a quick kiss.
"I'll see you soon, Mr. Blackmar, and if you want to talk, I'll be sure to listen."
"Soon enough," Axel's head was still bowed from the kiss.
"Go on now, go have fun," ILA laughed pushing him gently towards the rest of the group. The only 2 Johnnies still sharing touching moments were Spencer and Ichabod.
"Now Spencer, you can't go being the evil alien everybody knows you are. Maybe if you were nice every once in awhile, people wouldn't expect the worst, y'know?" RB was trying to patiently explain the virtues of being good to Spencer Armacost.
"But that's not fun," Spencer spared a disgusted look for the thought of being 'good' on a trip that was obviously meant to be sinful in every way.
"Okay, I'll make a deal. Since only all of JA will be keeping tabs of your movements, as long as you don't try and kill or turn everybody on the island into creepy aliens, I'll be happy. Is that fair?"
"You're a peach," Spencer grinned, agreeing full heartedly. A little mischief never hurt anybody. And from what he'd heard, that Shooter guy was going to be on the island too! What great fun! Ichabod didn't share these sentiments.
"But Sarah... there are going to be so many other men there. It's simply not the place for a person of my tastes. Why can't I back out now?"
"Because it's too late, Ichabod. You should have said something earlier," Sarah smiled sadly at her distressed Johnny.
"But I did say something earlier and nobody listened to me!" Ichabod wailed.
"What are you afraid of, Ichy?" Sarah asked, calling him by his pet name.
"I don't want to bond with men who smell like sweat and scratch themselves and belch and pass gas! I am a scientist!"
"Then study why men feel the need to scratch themselves and pass gas when they gather in large groups. Won't that be and interesting study?" Sarah had to stifle a grin. Ichabod wasn't amused.
"Not in the slightest. I like dissecting DB's lasagna. It was safe and was almost like blood."
"How about you go and be the team chef? You can decapitate all sorts of interesting animals, get squirted in the face by their blood and at the same time, perform scientific experiments to decide what they taste best with. Be positive, Ichy; it'll be fun!"
"Oh all right. But only because you want me to," Ichabod sighed unhappily. Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders to reassure him.
"I love you, you know. And no matter what happens, you'll always be my favorite. Try to go easy on the other Johnnies, won't you?"
"As if I'm the one that needs that encouragement," he rolled his eyes.
"Okay, folks! All the Johnnies into the VW minibus!" DB called over the din of last minute partings. AJB kept watch over Johnnies that were attempting to escape and managed to apprehend a grand total of 3. A flock of Johnnies moved over to the tie dye minibus (the only thing the Survivor people could afford on such short notice) and clamored inside. The bus backfired and puttered off as the party in DB's bio thread slowly died down and people returned to their respective training and bio threads.
"This is absolutely the last time we host a going away party in here," AJB muttered darkly at the sight of the mess in its wake. Gabriel gave a sort of electronic shrug and DB flicked away a candyette.
"Makes you almost miss the 'kicks, doesn't it?"