X-Force 56: Traffic. By Elizabeth Celeste _________________________________________________________ This is a work of Fanfic. All the characters involved except Rhonda belong to Marvel Comics. And I guarantee that Marvel doesn't want her. So please don't sue. I don't have any money. I am accepting job offers, lottery tickets, and cash donations in small unmarked bills. United States currency only please. :) Actually, this is for entertainment purposes only, nobody is making any money off of it. _______________________________________________________________________ The early morning air was clear and unusually smog free. The sun was rising , in a beautiful arc over Los Angeles. There were all the signs that it would be the kind of day that people move across continents to experience. As the rest of the country was experiencing another week of unpleasant weather, it was 70 degrees and sunny in LA. Unfortunately, the wonders of the weather were utterly lost upon X-Force, who were stuck in the bumper to bumper traffic of the Santa Monica Freeway. And they were very quickly going absolutely nowhere. And somehow, in the post battle haze, they had agreed to let Shattterstar drive. Back when they were working for Cable, he would just teleport them to the battle and back. And when they were living at the Mansion, somebody else had always been around, with a plane, or chopper and a ride home. Existing as an autonomous team was beginning to have some distinct negatives. After beating at least a couple of dozen ninja's into unconsciousness, the last thing anybody wants to do is drive home. But in Los Angeles, the traffic was the one universal constant. And no mutant strikeforce could escape it. ----- At the same time, even on the same freeway, two people in a battered old truck were also making their way toward the duplex that served as X-Force headquarters. They probably should have called first, but it had been a bad week. Dimension hopping often resulted in strange hallucinations and fatigue. Had something to do with the water in third world dimensions. Nobody ever did seem lucky enough to get transplanted to the "Dimension of Anatomically Impossible Physical Pleasures", or "The Land of Tropical Resorts" or even, "Chocolate World". Nope. The only place anybody from Westchester, New York ever got to visit was the home of the legendary Norse gods. The company was nice. But the plumbing was just awful. ------ Across town. The Mansion of Roman Nebokah had seen much better days. Built originally at the height of the actors popularity in the late 1960's, it had never been redecorated. Over 30 years of parties, drugs, and police raids had helped it to gain a patina of age. However, unlike the great castles of Europe, age did not denote charm. It looked rather like a forgotten movie set, or the backdrop to a couple of episodes of _The Mod Squad_. Which is why you don't let the set designer decorate your house. Roman had always _meant_ to get the place redone, and updated. Bring it all the way into the 80's maybe. But every time he had the money set aside and waiting, something better always came along. And the mirror's, across the walls, the ceilings, and most of the coffee tables were convenient, the couches could be drunk upon, or smoked upon, or just about everything upon, with no danger of harming the upholstery. All in all it looked like a retirement den of an aging pimp. (An impression not hindered in the least by the fact that several of the tables in the house were glass or mirrors, atop the plaster casts of a woman's naked body. A woman who looked rather a lot like the long forgotten singer Alison Blaire). For Rhonda, the Nebokah Mansion was a pit from hell, that should have been burned down for the insurance money long ago. She would lay the kerosene and light the match herself. If the house had any insurance. But it didn't. So it remained a rent free place for a young ambitious girl, stout of heart and strong of limb to make her fortune. Unfortunately, the decor made it stunningly inappropriate for her business. Nobody ever wants a pimp's house to look like one. It was all just a little too sordid. Something definitely needed to be done. ---- "SAM!. Get up" "Huh? Just five more minutes. Ah don't wanna go to school ma...." Tabitha started to shake him, causing the pattern of light from the venetian blinds to waver in a most nauseating fashion. "Sam. Get up. I think somebody just started to pound on the front door. Can't you hear them?" "I don' here nothing. Sleep. Sleep Good.." "Get up you bastard or I take your name off the baby. Go see who it is. You're the "Ah'm near invulnerable when ah'm blasting" one. And I don't' know why everybody else hasn't got it." She gave him a massive push, rolling him and most of the blankets on to the floor. It seemed to do the trick. "Fine. I'm going. Just let me find some pants." Downstairs, the two women, late of Asgard were growing tired of waiting. Maybe it was the wrong address, maybe X-Force wasn't home.... ---- To a degree, X-Force wasn't home. At least, most of the team wasn't. They were in the Minivan. In traffic. Getting nowhere, quickly. "I found another cut. Yer gon ta be needin' some antibiotics or something. Ye never know what those stupid throwing stars 'ere made of". "I doubt anything poisonous. It's whatever was in the Taco Bell that worries me. My people had stories about the things found in Taco Bell". "The Apache Indians had legends, about the mythical bad food that poisons yer gut? Tell me another one. And ye ken have an "old Celtic superstition" in return." "No, really. One of the first Taco Bells was built in town. And it was the only fastfood joint for 50 miles, just off the Interstate. So you had to eat there. Legends grow quickly. Especially about bad Mexican." "Oh. Good then. Cause I was gonna be resorting to "The Legend of Moira McTaggart and the spiked coffee". --- Rhonda had the solution to her money problems, and Roman's problems in general, in her hands. Taking the ads literally, she had decided that it was time to let her fingers do the walking. Not the regular phone book of course. But flipping a rolodex counts for something. "Hello? May I speak to Kenneth Williams please? Yes, I'll hold". It wasn't fair that even the lowly set designers could make you wait for them to come to the phone. Hollywood was much worse about that then even New York had been. " Yes, Mr. Williams. My name is ... Rhonda. Rhonda Gannon. I understand that you are the person in charge of props and costumes for the new revival of the _Son of Shaft_ films. I have a proposition for you. I have an entire house that can easily serve as a set for the film." "Yes, of course it still has the shag carpeting. No, it has been cleaned. I also have a large collection of men's clothes from the era, and an assortment of womens' evening wear, dating from, oh, 1968 to the present." "Yes, I understand it you can't commit right away. But I do have other people interested in the property...." He bought it. Hook line and sinker. And the studio would not only use the Mansion as a set, but it would up the value of the house, and aquire insurance. Not a bad turnaround at all, for nothing more then an hour's worth of phone calls... ---- {Pants. Stairs. Oooh, Light. Door. People.. Dani?!} Sam blinked a few times. Dani Moonstar was the last thing that he expected to find on his doorstep, at some hour of the morning. Or afternoon. Or at all for that matter. Shouldn't she be in Asgard or something? "Sam? You don't look so good." "I'm fine. How've you been? Last I knew, I thought you went off to Asgard." " I did. They threw me, well actually us out. Again. It's a long sordid story." "Well, why don't you and, umm...", Sam fished for a name. He'd met the blond girl, looking very uncomfortable in jeans and a T-Shirt, before. But the name wasn't clicking. All the blond girls he knew were either teammates or family. And the stranger wasn't a part of either category. "Mist. Mist, this is my old teammate Sam Guthrie. The Human Cannonball. Sam, this is Mist, a friend of mine. She used to be a Valkyrie." They exchanged little waves. "Mist, come on in, and make yourselves at home. Ah'm gonna go tell Tabitha who's here, and look for everybody else. Help ya selves ta anything in the kitchen." "Alright. It's sweet of you to do this Sam." Dani looked like she had more to say, but just followed him in the building. "This is the living room, and the kitchen is over there. Ah'll be back in just a minute..." "Sam. I hate to seem rude, having just got here and all, but why are you wearing Magenta pants? Have fashions changed that much in the last few months?" "Eeerp." He looked down. Sure enough, he had a pair of pink long underwear on. Must have gotten Tabitha's clothing by mistake. They were comfy though. "Longish story. Back in five. And if anybody tries to argue with you, tell them Ah said it was ok.". ----- "Da's Vid!. I am driving. I get to choose the radio station." "Nooo. Mis amigo, tiene una problema. Yo estoy Shotgun" "Shotgun does not pick the music. The driver does. Even as trainees, the young warriors were given individual entertainment units. This car is beneath even the dogs of Mojo." "It's not _me_ who banged it up so that we had to buy it, Mr. All Vehicles Fly if you go fast enough" "I am still new to the customs of this world. In my homeland, all vehicles do fly". "SHUT UP the both of ye. Star, if Mojoworld is so much better, why are you here? And Ric, if you even think of playing that Lila Cheney tape again, I will personally eviscerate you" ---- "Tabitha- have you seen my pants?" Sam was crawling across the floor, pawing through piles of abandoned clothing. Nothing of his was coming into view. "No. Who was at the door?" "Dani Moonstar, and Mist one of the Valkyries- I met her the first time Ah went to Asgard. They're downstairs in the living room" "You let them in?!" "Yeah, why not? Dani's an old friend of mine. Ah know you don't like her, but..." "But what? Every time I run into her she winds up trying to kill us. I mean every time". "That was only because of Hela and the possession that she tried right after all the stress of the demon's invadin' New York." "And then, she kept it up almost the entire trip to Asgard. I _hate_ Asgard. It's cold and nasty and smells bad, and nobody else there owned a single item of dayglo clothing...." "So? It's been a long time. And she was working for Cable. You know that. She needs to be told.... There ain't that many of us New Mutants left, an we need to stick together." "Sam. The New Mutants are GONE! Let it go. And before you even think of it, I ain't naming my baby after a single one of them... I was X-Factor once, before they dumped us. Do you see me running around calling myself a part of them? Hunh?" "Be like that. Ah'm gonna go see to _our_ guests." Sam clenched his teeth, and tried very hard to keep from stomping down the stairs, still wearing pants that would have been out of place on any planet... --- "Ah' don't think anybody else is home, an Tabitha's not.. feeling real well. Can ah offer anythin? How long were you two on the road?" Mist and Dani had made themselves at home, and were propped up on the couch, drinks in hands. Mist was exploring the buttons on one of the many remote controls, but still hadn't found the power switch. She didn't seem inclined to talk. In fact her ability to even speak English was probably questionable... "We left Colorado two days ago. Made good time across the mountains....Haven't slept much... It's been a while since I was back on Midgard". Dani sounded tired, and it was showing through in her syntax. "Last time I saw you, you were wanderin off home, after Reignfire blew up most of the MLF.. Ah thought ya were gettin' out of the spandex business?" "I was. But I got the opportunity to return to Asgard, and to try to get back in with the Valrike's. And I had to take that chance.." "Didn't they throw you out - and mess up Brightwind?" "Loyalty doesn't always make sense." "Ah know. Ah joined the X-Men." He at least had the grace to look sheepish. "You what? Sam, last time I was here, you were still upset because they had imprisoned the whole team in the danger room". "And last time Ah checked, Brightwind had grown bat wings. Loyalty doesn't always make sense." "I had to go back to return Darkwind's ashes. What was you're excuse?" "Look, Ah don't need this. Tabitha's bad enough, and you don't have pregnancy as an excuse.. You guys want someplace to crash?" Divert the subject. Maybe they haven't paid much attention. "Tabitha is having a... how you say? Baby?" Mist said her first words of the morning, taking another swig of chocolate milk. "This drink good. Very warming" No such luck.. "Yah, Wer'e having a baby Guthrie..." Might as well say it. Not the kind of thing that you can keep secret forever. "That's umm, great Sam." Dani looked stunned. But then so did he. And he had been given a little time to get used to the idea. Considering the whole thing on no sleep was probably enough to bother anybody... "Yeah, well it's pretty new to me too. Look, I'll put you in Star and Ric's room. We're kinda out of guest space at the moment". "Ok. Mist-- come on.." Dani said something incomprehensible in Asgardian. Must be the Valkyrie dialect or something... "Sam, are you doing something funny to the milk? Mist is claiming she never had this flavor mead before." "It should be fine..." Alcoholic milk? Maybe it was just an Asgard thing... Or, "Is something written on the container- maybe the word 'Terry'?". Not again. She'd pulled this stunt before. Dani grabbed for the container, and took a sniff. "Yeah, but why?" "Theresa used to mix whisky and chocolate milk. Thought we wouldn't find out. Ah guess she's doing it again. Look, I'm sorry.." "That's alright. Friends? You have too much going on here to stay mad" "Friends." --------------- "Welcome to Burbank. The Studio City" "Why Burbank the Studio City? Is no artists." Caliban looked confused. Caliban always looked confused. It seemed to be his dominant expression. "They have a lot of TV studios in Burbank. Magnum P.I. would film inside stuff there. It got it's name years ago." The hours that Roberto had been spending on the internet were paying off. Not in any tangible way, but that kinda thing never does. "Wait- a min. Burbank? That's way in the wrong direction. Star- I want ye to pull off at the next exit. We need to ask for some directions" Theresa wanted home. And, as team leader, it was up to her to make some decisions that needed making. Like the horrible search for directions. "Why do we need directions. I was trained in the pits for directions. A warrior does not have to ask." "A warrior just took us two hours out of the way. We need to be getting home. This is crazy. Did the ninja's beat all the brains out of ye?" "I will pull off. But I will not ask." "Good. I don't care. I just want to go take a nap." Actually, what she wanted was a drink. A very strong, stiff drink. Or two or three. The team's first battle in Los Angeles, and it was taking them longer to get home then it had to fight in the first place. ----- Inventory. Roman was safely passed out in a drug induced coma. With any luck, he would stay there until the filming was over, next week. Son of Shaft was a low budget production by ordinary Hollywood standards. But by the standards of it's genre, it was quite high budget. Four million dollars - One million for the film and developing. One million for the technical crew and and special effects. And most importantly, one million american dollars for "Rhonda Gannon". Oh, sure, it was one million for the house, and use of the props. But, since the only expense she had was the post filiming carpet cleaning, it was $999, 500 dollars of pure profit. Not bad money at all for a girl who got her start ripping off video games for the Vanisher. She could probably even keep Roman comatose throught filming - about $10,000 would keep him happy, and at a hotel while the house was in use. And if they would give him a cameo shot, she might just get out of paying Roman anything at all. "I'm rich. I'm rich. I'm rich!" That was all the celebration Rhonda would allow herself. No use in spending the money until she had it safely stocked away in a numbered account. The Swiss might not pay interest, but they did keep quiet about the oragins of money. And summer in Switzerland was just what she needed after her stint as a business woman. "KBANG. KPOW. SPLASH!!" "Not now. The house just has to stay together for another week. Then everybody's happy." Rhonda rushed outside, hoping that nobody was having a shoot out by the pool. Bullet holes would seriously damage the value of the house. But rather then the expected crisis, Rhonda found two of the most georgeous creatures ever seen sputtering in the pool. Two of the most naked beautiful men. And judging by the look of them, the blonde one was a mutant of some sort. A very lucky mutant. "Are you boys always into trespassing naked? Or are you just happy to see me?" ------- Next Issue: Shatterstar versus the Puppies. A run in with a classic piece of musical theatre. And absolutely no Kevin Bacon refrences :) Andrew Wheeler - ==================================================================== "The powers of beer and electricity working together to save lives." ==================================================================== The X-Writers : http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/8535/xwriters.html Cult Of The Personality : http://www.york.ac.uk/~aw108/ ==================================================================== Geac monath ~ geomran reorde ~ Singeth sumeres weard ~ sorge beodeth ------- This message is from the x-writers mailing list at camelot.syr.edu To unsubscribe, send email from the account subscribed to majordomo@camelot.syr.edu, with the body of the message saying unsubscribe x-writers subscibed email address For more information, please contact owner-x-writers@camelot.syr.edu