"Johnny's Demons" has been in existence for awhile now, butitneeded a LOT of work done on it, so here it is! For those of you who come by who aren't part of Johnny's Angels… just substitute each unknown name with Boba Fett. Sure, it's a Family Guy joke, but it works. Please be nice with your reviews (if you leave a review at all, which I hope you do!), and a BIIG thanks to Arenas, FF (aka Merrie), and Psnoo (aka Neon Daisies) for all of their help with this chapter. On with the fun!

Sands lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. Candyettes, he scoffed to himself. Nothing like the real thing. Enjoying the nicotine coursing through his lungs, he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the seatbacks in front of him. This was a very rare occasion for him—he was relaxed and at ease. As a CIA agent, it was second nature to be on his guard. But here, in the bullring with his angel, he was fairly certain that the worst thing that could happen would be some innocent mischief or swooning stares from other JA Members. He squinted behind his sunglasses. The sun was shining particularly brightly that day, and a slightly breeze had kicked up the dust in the bullring and made the air a bit foggy. The visibility was low and he was relaxed, which was why Sands didn't immediately notice that something was wrong.

He heard someone approach him and he raised an eyebrow. He had been wondering where his angel had gotten to. He smirked, but before he could open his mouth and offer one of his trademark smart-smeep remarks, he got a surprise. Sands wasn't fond of surprises.

Arenas knocked his legs down and quickly straddled his lap. She smirked, and took the cigarette out of his mouth and took a deep drag from it. She locked eyes with him as she slowly exhaled the smoke into his face. Then she flicked the cigarette away.

"What the--" Sands began, but he was silenced by a rather enthusiastic kiss from his angel. His eyebrows nearly shot off his head, but he strained to keep his composure. After a moment, Arenas pulled away and her eyes sparkled.

"Not that I don't appreciate your affections, sugarbutt, but you wanna tell me what's going on here?" he asked. He had a funny feeling in his gut—something was off.

Arenas pressed her forehead to his, grinning somewhat evilly. Sands heard a familiar click, and alarms went off in his head. "Sorry, boyo," she whispered, pressing the barrel of his own gun to his temple. He hadn't even felt her remove it from his holster. "I guess you can call me your angel de la muerte, si?"

Sands got over his shock and wrenched her wrist away from his head. The gun fired a bullet off into the sky, and he cursed. "SMEEP, Arenas!" he yelled, although he was thinking a word much worse than that. He stared at her incredulously, finding that she had the gun pointed at his head again. He halfway raised his hands. With anyone else, he would have already killed them (even though he was currently unarmed), but this was his ANGEL, for smeep's sake. It was time for his power of persuasion to take over. He smirked, making his face a mask of calmness and confidence.

"Okay, if this is some sort of cute plan of yours to get me REALLY turned on, I must admit that you came on a bit too strongly, but that can be amended fairly quickly. On the other hand, if I did something to piss you off to the point of homicide, I'd like to know. My patience only runs so long," he told her.

Arenas laughed—it was a cold, chilling sound.

"Oh, Sheldon," she chuckled. Sands bristled at the use of his first name, but stayed quiet. Arenas aimed the gun more accurately. "What makes you think that I care about you at all, sweetie?" She winked at him and he watched as her finger gripped at the trigger.

Suddenly, there was a loud POOF! and a grunted curse. Arenas turned her head at the commotion, and Sands took the opportunity and jumped her. They both fell to the ground and wrestled for a moment. Sands had just knocked the gun out of her hand when they both found Arenas with a sword at her throat. The two of them looked up to see none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.

Sands sighed. "I don't need bodyguard, savvy?" he growled, but got to his feet.

"An' I don' need a mate stealin' me words, SAVVY?" Jack replied, nudging Arenas to her feet with the tip of his sword at her throat. Sands rolled his eyes.

"What, did CC send you?" he asked, brushing himself off.

Jack's eyes got dark. "'Fraid not," was all he said. He watched Arenas carefully as she stood up. She glared at him.

"What makes you think that your dinky little sword will hold up against ME?" Arenas sneered.

"Lass," Jack replied, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." He pressed the blade against her throat harder, and she gasped. Then he glanced at Sands, a cocky grin on his face. "Savvy?"

The doors to the cell closed with a clang. Sands and Jack watched as Arenas struggled against her rope bonds that kept her hands behind her back. Her eyes sparked with anger and madness. Sands didn't like it. Something, obviously, was very wrong.

He followed Jack back up on deck, stumbling more times than he would care to admit. He wasn't used to the rocking of the ship, but Jack was having no trouble. Sands didn't like it was someone was clearly better than him at something. That was an advantage, and Sands liked to have control over those sort of things.

"Welcome to me Pearl, mate," Jack said grandly, once they reached the deck. Sands barely glanced around, wanting to get down to business.

"Remind me again why we… um… 'imagined' ourselves here?" he asked Jack, ignoring the glares of the crew.

Jack nodded, leading Sands to his cabin. Once inside, Sands raised an eyebrow at the scene that was laid out in front of him. CC was lying on Jack's bed, her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. She was struggling fiercely, her eyes shooting daggers at the two Johnnies. Sands turned to the pirate, a smirk growing on his face.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm as kinky as the next guy, but…" he trailed off. Jack smiled cheekily and chuckled, clapping Sands on the back. Sands frowned at the contact, but refrained from snapping at the pirate.

"I knew I liked ye, mate! Unfortunately, this isn't what ye be thinkin'," he replied. Then his face got serious.

"She attacked me this mornin'," he explained, watching CC struggle with a hard look in his eyes.

"Why?" Sands asked.

"Don't know. All's I know is that I woke up this mornin', and she 'ad a sword pointed at me throat. Took a bit for me to get 'er under control, but I got 'er tied up as soon as I could," he explained, stopping to think for a moment. "'S a good thing I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, or else she would 'ave 'ad me guts fer garters," he added. He stared at his Angel. "Didn' really expect it from me lass, though," he concluded.

"Yeah, same here," Sands said thoughtfully. Jack looked up at him. The agent cleared his throat.

"So… someone's doing a number on our angels," Sands stated.

"Thass what it seems like, they're not exactly acting themselves," Jack agreed.

Sands nodded. "Time for a little reconnaissance then," he said, folding his arms. He cocked his head at Jack. "Check the other angels; see if whatever's happening with CC and Arenas is happening with them."

"Aye," said Jack. "And any fallen angels we find, bring back 'ere. Keep a sharp eye, savvy?" Sands rolled his eyes at that, but nodded and left.

With that, the two Johnnies went their separate ways to figure out just what was going on.


BB rummaged through her knapsack, cursing and grunting softly. She stood in her room in the Academy of Flight, since her training thread was yet to be set up, and Jack (the Kerouac one) watched her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"What's the matter, doll?" he asked, coming to his Angel's side.

"Ugh… I can't find my DVD's. You know I don't go anywhere without them," she replied, her voice muffled. She had stuck her head completely inside her bag. She pulled it back out quickly, her hair mussed and messy. Jack chuckled and smoothed her hair down lovingly, then kissed her on the nose. BB flushed bright red and smiled—she hadn't been an angel for long enough to get used to Jack's random smooches, though she wasn't sure she would ever.

"Maybe you left them in the cabin the last time we visited Psnoo," Jack suggested. BB bit her lip and nodded—it didn't sound likely, but there was no harm in looking. Plus, she owed her mentor a visit. After a brief discussion about method of travel (BB was always very fond of hanging onto Jack from the back of his motorcycle, but for this trip it was unnecessary), BB and Jack found themselves imagined to the front door of the cabin.

BB was about to enter when she heard a loud crash, coming from inside. She jumped, then looked at Jack in alarm. She opened the door quickly and stepped inside. "Hello?" she tentatively called out.


She whirled around to see Psnoo standing behind her, slamming the front door closed and leaving Jack outside. She had been hiding behind it the whole time. BB gulped, not liking the look she saw in her eyes. She was also aware that Psnoo was wearing Shooter's hat. She backed up. "Psnoo? A-are you okay?" she stammered.

Psnoo advanced on her. "Oh, ah'm jest fine, li'l missy. Can't say the same fer you, though," she drawled. BB continued backing up. The back of her legs hit the couch, and she nearly toppled over. She held her ground and quickly glanced around the cabin.

"Mort?" she called out.

"Oh, he took the coward's way out," Psnoo said with a chuckle. Then BB noticed the screwdriver in her hand. It was covered in blood.

"Oh god, no," she whispered. She looked up at her mentor. "Psnoo… you… you gotta snap out of it, okay? I mean, I'm gonna have to revoke your mentor status or something, 'cause you're seriously freaking me out," she told her. No reaction.

"MORT! Mort, are you all right?" BB screamed. That HAD been Mort telling her to look out when she first came in… hadn't it?

"I would be worryin' about yer own safety, iffin' I was in yer sitch-iation," Psnoo said with a smirk. She advanced on her further, blocking any means of BB's escape.

"Psnoo, stop! Think for a second! I was your sidekick! Killing off former sidekicks is a no-no! It's in the Terms of Service!" BB protested, starting to sweat. Okay, well it might not be, but hopefully she doesn't remember that, she thought.

"Sorry pilgrim. But you jest don't fit into the ending," Psnoo replied. She raised her screwdriver and BB closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain. Oh god, she thought. Oh god, I'm gonna die in this messed-up, JA bizarro world.

Suddenly, she heard the whistling of wind and a loud CLANG! Then a body fell to the floor. She opened her eyes and saw Mort standing there with his trusty shovel, the metal part dented. He looked at her fearfully through his glasses. BB quickly bent down and felt Psnoo's pulse.

"She's okay, she's just knocked unconscious," she told him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. BB pulled her mentor up into a sitting position. "You got any duct tape?" she asked him. He nodded and left for a moment, returning with a roll of the tape.

"DB left it here," he said distractedly, watching as BB taped Psnoo's hands behind her back. Then she taped her legs together. Then she noticed the bloody screwdriver on the floor.

"Mort, are you hurt?" she asked him in alarm. He looked confused for a moment. Then he followed her stare to the screwdriver.

"Oh! No, it's um, its ketchup. She kind of freaked out in the kitchen, broke some bottles," he explained. BB nodded—that had been the crash she heard. "What's going on, LF?"

Before she could answer, it finally clicked in her head that the loud banging that she was hearing wasn't her heartbeat. Jack was still outside, banging on the door and calling out to her. She quickly opened it up and Jack nearly fell inside. He quickly checked over his angel to make sure she was okay and she told him what had happened. Then she faced the two Johnnies grimly.

"I don't know. I don't think this was Sh-Psnoo. It was too… evil. Something's obviously going on, but I honestly have no idea what it could possibly be. When did Psnoo start freaking out?" she asked.

"This morning," Mort replied, "I was upstairs, writing, and she just came up behind me and attacked! She was wearing the hat and… and… I didn't know what to do; I threw her off of me and locked myself in my bedroom. Then she trashed the house. Then you came."

BB nodded. "Well…we can't just leave her here. Maybe we should take her to Seraphim Hall and see what DB thinks," she said. She went to pull Psnoo up, but Mort brushed her away and took his Angel up in his arms. He gave BB a small smile.

"I got her," he told her. BB smiled back, and watched as Mort stared at his angel through concerned eyes. Suddenly remembering the other occupant of the cabin, she called for Ichy. The pup slowly peeked out of the door of the upstairs bedroom, whimpered, and bounded down the stairs. He jumped up into BB's arms and licked her face, but he was trembling with fear. BB petted him.

"It's okay, boy," she told him. "DB'll know what to do."

BB opened the door to Seraphim Hall, with Jack, Mort, and Ichy in tow.

"Hello? Anybody home?" she called out. The dorm was eerily quiet. She entered slowly, a bad feeling in her gut. "DB?" she called out again.

"Niieeetttaaaa…" came the sing-song reply.

Everyone jumped, and Ichy yelped. BB lowered the dog to the floor and he scampered away. The Johnnies and the angel quickly focused their attention on the staircase. DB was slowly descending the stairs, an odd smile on her face. Her sunglasses were oddly missing, and BB cringed at the sight of her naked eye sockets.

"Nice to see you," DB said, then giggled maniacally. BB and Jack exchanged a worried look. BB pantomimed shoveling and gave Mort a questioning glance. He stared at her blankly. She rolled her eyes. Did you bring the SHOVEL! she mouthed to him. Mort's eyes widened and he shook his head. BB smacked herself in the forehead. Then she turned back to the approaching DB.

"So, uh, do you have any of those unangeled Johnnies around? 'Cause um… just wanted to know how they were doing…" LF trailed off. Smooth, she thought to herself.

DB giggled maniacally.

"I'm afraid they're--"

She stopped. Then she cocked her head, frowning. "Is that Mort I hear shuffling his feet behind you? Oh, and your little poet is here too. How adorable. Seems you can't go anywhere without him, can you?"

BB gasped— how could she have possibly recognized Mort's shuffling? And how did she know Jack was there? Before any of them could react, DB had whipped out her pistol and aimed it in their direction.

"I bet you're wondering where the rest of the sidekicks are," she said to them. BB gulped. She HAD been wondering that, but she had been hoping that they had run off as soon they saw how creepy their dorm mom was being. She still hoped that was the case.

"DB, if you did anything to them I'll--"

"You'll do exactly WHAT, sugarbutt? You're barely an angel, you don't have a weapon, and as for your current Johnnies of protection… well, one's useless when he's not a homicidal maniac and the other is about as useful as a wet noodle," she snapped. She took a deep breath and continued.

"Now, I, on the other hand… I have all the power. So much power, in fact, that I've closed the Academy."

BB gasped. "You CLOSED it? What do you mean, you CLOSED it?" she asked in shock.

"Closed, dearie. C-L-O-S-E-D. CLOSED! Why would we angels possible want to waste our time babysitting sniveling little brats who will never compare to us? So I sent the 'sidekicks' packing. No more training, no more assignments, no more hopes of angeling Johnnies. The unangeled, after all, belong to me."

She zeroed in on BB, cocking the pistol. "Now, you're not a sidekick, but… I think it's just early enough in your Angelhood to deem you unnecessary. Therefore…" she trailed off. BB's heart stopped for a moment and her eyes widened in fright at the pistol aimed at her.

"It is my duty to inform you of your retirement. Goodbye, BB," DB hissed. She pulled the trigger.