Subject: [OTL]: [sillyfic] Pete Wisdom must stop the armaggedon Date: Thu, 03 Jun 1999 17:28:41 CEST From: Sascha M Disclaimer: Pete, Emma and Monet don't belong to me. They belong to Marvel. So there. Just another sillyfic from me. Hope you like! ---------------------------------- Pete Wisdom must stop the Armaggedon by Sascha Morgan ------------------------------- Pete Wisdom, ex-just-about-everything, sat in a corner at his favorite bar in London, getting comfortably buzzed, when an old relative of his walked in. A very old relative. Very, veeeery old. Ancient infact. And he was heading straight for Pete. Pete closed his eyes, hoping that he was just seeing things. He opened them again and stared right in to a familiar face. "Aw 'ell." "Now is that a way to great your Great-great-great-great, etcetera, grandfather?" The man scolded him and sat down beside him. Pete looked at him murderously, if looks could kill the man would have been dead. "What are you doin' 'ere?" "Oh this and that." The man shrugged and smiled. He was about the same hight as Pete, maybe a little taller, with black hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in a grey business-suit, a white shirt and a blue tie. "So how are things going?" Pete glared. "Not good I assume." The man smiled widely from ear to ear. "Great!" Pete blinked. Did he just..? He did. "What the bloody 'ell do you mean?!? It's not great, it's not even close to great, in fact it couldn't be further from great!" "Temper, temper. But anyway, what I was meaning to say is that though you're probably miserable, that means that you're currently not involved with anything.. Or anyone. Not that it would matter if you were, but this does make it easier for me," the man explained. Pete grabbed his beer, and, after contemplating to throw it in the man's face, emptied the glass. "Joey, I do not, an' I repeat, do NOT want anythin' to do with whatever it is yer plannin'. Got it?" "You make it sound like you have a choice," Joey Devlin said admiringly. "I think this will turn out just the way I planned it." He snorted. "Year 2000, baah! That is so melodramatic and not to mention predictable. Now, year 2466, *that'*s a good year. Full of symbolizm, *and* it's unpredictable." Pete blinked some more and looked puzzled. "What are you talkin' 'bout? No, wait, don't answer. I don't wanna know." He sighed and glared at the man. "This is the last time I help you out. The very last time." "Sure, sure," Joey waved him off. "Now come with me. You've got to meet the rest." He got up of the couch and started walking, fully expecting Pete to follow him. Pete followed. "The rest? The rest of what?" "You'll see." ************ "Nonono, lemme get this straight.." Pete held his hands up to stop Joey from continuing. Joey shut up. "You need two gals to stop armaggedon from 'appening an' one of those gals is one of the spandex-people?" Joey nodded. "An' you want *me* to go git 'er?" Joey nodded. "Are you outta yer mind?" Joey shook his head. "No. I think you'll do fine. After all, you used to be one of them." "I never wore spandex! That's a dirty lie!" Pete turned red (of embarressment as he remembered this one time when Kitty had managed to talk him into.. well, let's not talk about that). Joey smiled knowingly, but said nothing. "Never mind that," Claudia said. She was one of the two women accompanying Joey. She was tall, blonde and looked a little like Callisto from Xena. "Her name is Monet. You just get her, and I don't care how, and we'll take care of the other one." "No." Pete shook his head. He was still shaking his head two hours later on the plane to USA. ***************************************************************************** "I 'ate that wanker," Pete told himself - and incidentally half the people at the airport. They looked at him strangly. Pete ignored them and kept walking towards the exit. Joey could be fun to go bar-crawling with, but as soon as he was sober he was completly unreasonable. Pete wondered if he just had gotten Joey drunk, all this could have been avoided. Perhaps not. ***************************************************************************** "But Emma..!" Pete said. "No. No. And yet again no! You will not, and I repeat not!, take Monet with you to England! I don't care who told you she is necessary to stop armaggedon." Emma crossed her arms over her chest and looked sternly at Pete. "But he's an angel!" Pete tried. "Well, sort of," he added. "He got demoted." Emma blinked. "How can an angel get demoted and how do you know an angel?" "He's a fallen angel. Rumors has it he was a little too fond of some nuns in Italy, but that's not important! 'Sides that was decades ago!" "Uh-hu," Emma said. "And how, exactly, do you know him?" "Well.." Pete looked a little uncomfortable. "He's sort of a relative of mine.." "A relative," Emma repeated. "Yup. Apparently one of those nuns he was so fond of, got a kid." "Your father is an angel?" "No! He's not my *father*! More like great-great-great-great-etcetera grandfather," Pete explained. "Anyway, since he got demoted, he's been hanging around here on earth, making guardian angels and such miserable and basically having a jolly old time. Think he's had some contact with the guy down stairs also, but he's really a nice guy. Once you get to know him. Well, actually I don't like 'im much, but that could just be me. I'm sure you'd get along just fine." "That's nice," Emma said. "You're still not dragging Monet with you to England." "But..The armaggedon..!" "No." Pete thought. So Emma wouldn't let him leave with Monet, and Joey wouldn't let him return without her.. Solution: "Is there a pub around 'ere somewhere?" The End