2007-08-19: DF: Operation: Nuns On The Run


DFElena_icon.gif DFEric_icon.gif DFPeter_icon.gif DFUnknown_icon.gif DFJack_icon.gif DFTrina_icon.gif DFRamon_icon.gif DFCass_icon.gif DFLachlan_icon.gif DFCandy_icon.gif DFMcAlister_icon.gif DFGene_icon.gif

Summary: Operation: Nuns on the Run is afoot! The entire crew of Saints and friends help a full bus of detainees get away from their wardens as discussed in their mission briefing a week ago. Flock members are rescued, and the entire gang celebrates the crazy, improvised wedding of Jack and Trina, and Cass and Lachlan. DRINKS ALL AROUND!

Watch For: Oh my god. Everything. Crossdressing nuns, guns in bibles, Peter pulling an Obi Wan Kenobi, fireworks, a lifesized paper mache statue of the President we all love to hate, more fireworks…..and a special guest appearance by a famous Internet Phenomenon.

Dark Future Date: August 19th, 2009

Operation: Nuns On The Run

Brooklyn + Downtown New York

It was in the late afternoon when the collection center in Brooklyn decides they're ready to ferry the convoy out into the ruined streets of the state. Detainees in uniforms, cuffed and linked together in chains, are shuffled like dirty prisoners to the armored, black bus waiting for them, sandwiched in the middle of one HS vehicle in front, and three more at the back. And waiting for these prisoners…are the nuns. The Sisters of Charity are waiting to provide much needed spiritual guidance as they ship the detainees to that promised trip to the church. To the Saints, some of these would be familiar faces. Jamal White, the Den's old bouncer, is busily being shoved forward by the butt of a rifle. Milkdud follows him not far behind. As always, Father Thomas Brady, dark haired with graying temples and who looks remarkably like Reed Richards if he actually aged at a normal rate, is a tall serene figure walking along the line. The priest inclines his head a bit to the nuns….and blinks. Odd. One of them looks familiar…

"Move it, father. We've got a schedule to keep," one of the agents grunts, pushing the man forward.

Meanwhile, a gaggle of agents are to the side, checking out the detainees with a clipboard. Some of them are talking to each other in hushed tones.

"Some of the nuns look really weird…"
"Heard a nuke blew up near their convent now half of them's got a hormone imbalance or something…"
"I dunno man, that other one's kinda…hairy…"

"Man. These things are heavy. I'm sweatin' like a whore in church," Jack mutters beneath his breath and tugs at the collar of his habit to give himself some air. He already decided on route that the bulky nun's dress and ridiculous bonnet-headwrap-thingy he had on were way, way, /waaaay/ to hot to be fighting in comfortably. Like wearing chainmail, but without the benefit of being able to save your life. So what did he do? He stripped on the manly clothes he was wearing underneath. Anything for the cause, right?

Jack!Nun w/DORK ASKEW.

From his spot to the side of the main procession, Jack tips a wink to Father Brady as he passes. The Shepherd has a bible in one hand and a stout, six-inch wooden crucifix in the other, both of which he hefts experimentally from time to time. He keeps his head ducked to hide the five o' clock shadow that he's never been able to completely erase. "My fake boobs itch," he mutters irritably to the nearest ersatz nun.

Dude. That nun just winked at him.

Father Brady moves to the bus. Now that his back's turned, he can grin like a sonuvabitch.

Still got it. Oh. YEAH. (/Quagmire)

And for once, Ramon isn't in psychopathic glee. He's listening in, because he couldn't resist hearing the thoughts of the man-nuns. And his shoulders are /shaking/ with silent /laughter/. For a change.

"I think they're talking about you, Lachlan," Eric keeps his voice low, but he can't help laughing softly. Very softly. Of course he isn't much of one to talk. "…and right now, Jack, I think that allusion works rather well." He covers his mouth with his Bible though as the Shepherd grumbles and swears his way through the procession.

…thank God he doesn't know about the askew dork though. He might just…hurl. Or die laughing. One of the two.

"…well don't scratch em, if you do I don't think I'll ever stop laughing again." Eric? Yes. He is indeed dressed like a nun. Full habit and bulky dress. He is wearing /more/ under the dress than Jack…but…well exactly what it is will wait till later. Yes. It involves leather and buckles though.

…just don't think about it. It'll be better that way.

However he just thwacks his head with the flat of his Bible. "…I don't think you're supposed to hold the crucifix like your about to brain someone with it either."

Next to Ramon, a bespectacled (yes, damnit, she /does/ wear glasses sometimes) Ali throws an elbow. Gently. "What? Spill. Unless Jack's naked, and then? Seriously? I don't want to know. TMI."

She's back to lacing a boot, regardless, transmission and GPS rig firmly in place, as per request - "Anybody shot them yet?" It's probably a valid question, given this bunch.

"Yer fake boobs itch?" growls back Lachlan in a hushed tone. "Dunno how the fuck Cass puts up with it." Christ above, who the hell invented these things? And yes, the Scotsman is totally nude beneath his habit. Because damned if he's going to roam around in something built like an oven while fully clothed beneath. "Fuck, we're taller'n half the nuns here." He hunches himself a little more, trying to appear smaller, and to better keep his face hidden.

It should be noted that Lachlan's breasts, in order to best fit his taller stature, are rather large.

So. Here's the sitch. There are quite a few Dittos. Where are they? More like where aren't they. But that's not the important part. The important part is that Prime is doing nothing out of the extraordinary. He's just… hanging close to Ramon and the others that are near his vicinity. He's quiet. Head bowed. Prayer? Not really. Just… something a bit worse.

"I can't believe I hit on Lachlan." He shakes his head a bit. "They… they were just so big…"

Sitting in the back of the car along with Ramon and Ali in the front, Candy is inspecting herself in a handheld mirror, puffing up her hair so that it is pretty. She's dressed up a little for the occasion of kicking ass, with dramatic eye makeup and blood red DF-style lipstick. Thank you, Jack! Otherwise, she's just in a black tank and fitted jeans, heeled boots probably not the best accessory but they match the badassery! And her purse. "They better not be having too much fun in there," she says, then tilts the mirror to inspect her cleavage. Just as there and awesome as ever.

"So far," Ramon tells Ali, his lips twitching, "Rather than strategizing or worrying about the mission, the main source of thought and conversation seems to be the discomfort inherent in fake boobs, and various other things that are going wrong with women's clothing."

"… So… big…"

"Don't worry, baby," coos Elena affectionately from Prime's comm. "You're still manly. I won't tell anyone…….that doesn't already know."

"Cass also has the advantage of having real boobs," Peter adds in, standing shorter than the other men dressed up as nuns, and a lot less compact and hairy. In fact, he's probably the only one who would pass for a real woman. The fake boobs he has itch as well, but the fact that he's a little red in the face will be dismissed as heat. These things are hot, really! That's why he's reddish. Why did he let Elena talk him into this? Because she invited him along, and… yeah. That's why.

"They should wear it every day. Think we could like, plan more missions involving infiltration of this sort? Maybe a beauty pagent next. Or.. a mothers against drunk driving meeting." Ali offers that with pure guileless smiling - "They wear it all so well - hell, Prime's starting to go over and bat for the other team."

"… I just wanna' squeeze 'em…."

Trina's fingers tap anxiously. Alright. Get this mission over with already. Fingers drumming against the steering wheel of the car she's sitting in and foot tap-tap-tapping beside the gas pedal, the girl behind the overly large black sunglasses is thinking that she may be the Saints' only hope in this mission. She is the bastion of sanity. …Or maybe she's the Saints' lost cause. She's not entirely sure.

She is, however, sure that they've got a 75% chance of burning in Hell for all of eternity for this stunt. …Unless they actually pull it off. Then God totally owes them. …Let's hope God has a sense of humor.

"Catholics don't touch themselves in public."

Eric the Nun? Oh yeah. Definitely having a coughing fit now, bent over and holding onto Jack's shoulder for support.

"Jesus bloody Christ, Prime, shut the fuck up 'bout m'boobs," Lachlan hisses into his comm. Not exactly something he ever thought he'd hear himself say. He could go for Cass' boobs right now. He'd just like to disappear into them and never have this be brought up again. Hopefully she finds this amusing. After what she's been through, he'd be happy to wear this shit just to make her laugh.

The red faced nun just gets redder at all this talking. "Elena? Next time you say 'you can come along on this one' … tell me if we're dressing up in costumes first." Peter was happy to be invited along, but God— good thing this is in the future. Nathan would kill him if he did this in the past.

Jack rocks slightly in response to Eric's leaning, sending his water-baloon breasts bouncing and flopping like those of a Playboy Bunny playing beach volleyball. "Shit," he hisses. He shifts his bible into his crucifix-carrying hand and then presses his too-large, too-manly hand against his too-bouncy chest to still it to some semblance of normalcy. "Watch it," he whispers to Eric. "The jig is up if my boobs pop!"

While Jack and Lachlan are worried about their fake additions, Gene seems to be worried about his as well. Of course, Gene is worried about his artificial arm, not a fake rack. He glances over it, trying to see if the synthetic skin is on correctly. After all, he's gunna be pretty busy soon and if there is hugging, he wants to make it seem as less creep as possible. While he's loyal and faithful to the end, Gene hopes the bizarre mission ends sooner, because he's got somewhere else to be later tonight. Where is that? Well, Trina will know and her alone because he's not talking with the mike on. "Now, should be forward, but not too forward. Maybe a kiss on the first night, we might die tomorrow. No groping because life or death situations are no excuse for wanton sexual acts." There is a pause as he looks up from his equipment toward Trina who is driving. "Unless you do wanton sex anyway." Fearing pain as retribution, Gene scoots a little closer toward the passenger side door.

Finally turning on his mike to speak to the others, he offers two comments, "Focus on the mission… And please, while dressed as nuns, don't making cussing a habit."

Candy gives a snickersnort at Ramon's comment, and just shakes her head. "Didn't I saw we should have put my makeup crew on this? But oh no, real men don't want to actually look like women," she says. "Anyway, fake boobs aren't so bad. If they're done well." Smile! She would know. Don't tell her fans.

God has a sense of humor. Just look at the Platypus.

Elena's riding shotgun with Trina, making sure Gene's comfortable. She doesn't have any weapons - which is unusual, but she doesn't really need them. She's wearing black pants, a black tanktop, and her leather jacket. She's got dark glasses perched on her head, glancing over her shoulder at Gene in the back seat who's monitoring the convoy. "Let us know when we can go and intercept, Genius. I'm feelin' lucky to— uh. What are you talking about?" she asks the inventor, blinking a little bit at him. But the comm chatter. She chokes at it, and stifles her giggles with her fingers. "Sorry, Peter. It was Jack's idea. I -swear- to you I wouldn't blaspheme this way. Honest. Really."

And then, the agents turn to the sisters. "Alright, ladies, load 'em up. Watch your skirts. And— Jesus Christ, you're big." The agent gapes at Lachlan. Only…he's not looking at Lachlan's face. Yes. He just oggled a nun AND said the lord's name in vain.

They really are going to hell.

But the agents will start….shuffling the penguins in the bus now. And once they're in, they're off. The secured jeep taking point, with soldiers at the top with HELLFIRE CANNONS braced on one shoulder each, takes off first, and then the bus, and then the three other HS vehicles taking off after it.

Time to lock and load.

Ali mutters into her own comms, sweetly, "You gentlemen were the ones that /insisted/ on being on the bus. If you're not man enough to do a woman's job.. it is a bit late to grouse about it." She grins, looking back at Candy, and points out - "You'd have made a fabulous nun, for the record. I can see the poster - firearms, habit slit up to here.." Even as she starts the audio recording of this evening. Yes, beware, Saints - you may be rebroadcast with.. editing. Later.

Of course God has a sense of humor! Haven't you seen the duck-billed platypus?

"I wouldn't want your boobs to pop man," Eric replies, never thinking that was something he would be ever saying to anyone like Jack. "That would get you all wet." He adds in a hissing, soft laugh. He does his best to regain some control though as he stands back up.

And promptly almost falls over again at Gene's pun. He has to lean on Lach for a moment as he walks slowly up on the boat. A shake of his head though as he tries to clear it.

"Ali…if your taping this I'm going to kiss you or kill you, I'm not sure which yet." He adds over the com.


"…awwwwwwwr. Lachlan has a frieeeeeeeend. Think you'll get a date out of this one?"

"Yeah, well— I'm not Catholic so…" Peter whispers into the com, and then starts to move as they're told to get on the bus. But the Agent ogling Lachlan draws his eyes. Oh god, he's really going to go to hell for this one. Good thing he isn't Catholic. At the words from the Agent, Peter raises his hand with the cross and waves it, barely able to keep a straight face, "These aren't the boobs you're looking for." …and he just barely remembers to make his voice a little more girlish. It's still whispered and hoarser, though. But if he did it well enough they won't even remember he said it. Everyone else on the com will, though.

Elena can't help it. She collapses on the dashboard, laughing hysterically.

Candy beams over at Ali. "That's an excellent idea," she says. Something to do~ with all those cameras and spare time~! She's sure Desmond will appreciate it. Killer Sexy Nun Takes New York. She was never real good at the titling part, okay? She checks her handbag - all the appropriate touch up makeup is there, as well as a Glock. Everything a girl needs. Then, she hears what Peter has to say over the comm, in that deeper voice, and falls over giggling.

Prime is still doing that headshaking thing. Soon enough, though, he lifts it. Realizing that his mic was on this whole time. "… Oh shit." He throws his hands up and leans closer to his mic, "Attention Saints. Attention All Saints. I swear on all that is Scooby Doo, that I do not like Lachlan's Boobs. I repeat, I do not like Lachlan's Boobs."

Gayden chimes in through his comm. "But those abs, honey! Oooh!" And there is much flamboyant finger snapping.

Ramon doubles over, nearly choking with the effort not to spoil his image with laughing all over the comms. Granted, those with him can still see. But it's also man code. He feels honor bound to at least not be TOO big of an asshole to those brave, brave … men in…tights….

Ok, its gone.

Ramon is laughing his ass off.

"JESUS, BE QUIET!" Jack growls. He claws at his earpiece briefly, then winces when he realizes that his antics have caught the attention of another guard. "Uh." Think fast, Jackie!

The Irishman forms the sign of the cross in the air, then clasps his bible against his too-jiggly boobs. "He speaks to me," he informs the guard earnestly as he steps onto the bus. "And when He does, sometimes He needs to lower his voice." Before this can be thought about too much, Jack!Nun finds his way to the back of the bus.

The broadcaster murmurs, "You won't know until the Christmas party, Mr. Warbucks. Unless you buy me that island." And there's a /long/ pause while she works at simply stifling laughter, actually leaning over to ask Ramon, "We are going to hell, aren't we. Tell me the bus doesn't have 'handbasket' vanity plates."

"God has blessed me," Lachlan falsettos to the guard's remark before he, too, gets onto the bus. At Jack's antics, he also makes the sign of the Cross. "Bless ye, sister, oh bless ye." Lachlan doesn't believe in God, but he's sure someone's not thrilled with what they're doing here.

Eric just can't keep quiet. "…use the Boobs…er…Force Luke," And then its his turn to be on the bus. Well. Jack left him with a perfect opening. "Amen!" He replies with a smile, his voice trying to sound as girlish as he can. Its not very girlish at all. He does though bat his eyelashes. Then on he just climbs right on the buss behind everyone else.

Oh god. Is that RAMON laughing.

As she starts hearing engines roar to life, Trina delicately turns the key and just focuses on that. She is not listening to the chaotic chatter on the airwaves. YES. In fact, to prove her point? She's poppin' the damn bluetooth out of her ear and slamming it onto the dash. ESPECIALLY NOW THAT HER HONEY HAPPENS TO BE PROVING THAT THEY'RE GOING TO HELL. She's got Elena and Ramon. They'll tell her if something happens that needs her attention. "Good night," she hisses, watching her tongue for Gene's benefit. "When the fuck did the entire team get replaced by teenagers?" Okay, not wholly watching her tongue.

As Peter joins all the others on the bus, still red in the face, he does the sign of the cross as well— only he does it backwards. NOT A CATHOLIC, OKAY?

"Yeah, God's blessed yer jugs alright," Jack mutters to Lachlan when the group of 'nuns' have all moved out of earshot. "Did you decide to go with the grapefruits? I knew I shoulda gone with the grapefruits. This water balloon shit is for the birds."

"Look around you, this is hell." Elena glances at the screens at the back of their own vehicle. "Alright, they're on the move." She cracks her knuckles, and flexes them. She remembers what Daphne said. She's going to try and adhere to it as much as she can. But only as much as she can. She shakes out her fingerless gloves, and rolls her head back. Time to get buseh.

The detainees are seated along with the very weird looking nuns. OH COME ON. Some of them are ACTUAL nuns. There's about a dozen of them on the bus, led by a very convincing Whoopi Goldberg look-a-like complete with the sans eyebrows look. But then once they're all seated, with the detainees, sadly, chained to the floor, off they go.

They drive for a while, moving out of Brooklyn. The roads have been cleared, thankfully, for this particular purpose, and the convoy makes good care to pass La Guardia in case MISCREANTS attack. There are five agents in the bus, all are armed, with helmets, automatic weapons, and bulletproof vests. Their driver is dressed in the same way.

"Alright, Trina. They're moving. I'll leave it to you to gun the gas." Her group's job is to intercept the front vehicle, Ramon's team with Candy, Prime, and Ali, try to take out the three at the back. Hope they're all up to shooting stuff today. "Just get me in within twenty feet and I'll take care of the rest." And then, she starts crawling out of the vehicle, with the straps on her shoulder, slinging them around her hips and attaching them to the hooks on top of their armored hard-top Jeep.

"…the water ones are supposed to feel more natural than a grapefruit, though. Don't you wanna feel natural, Jack?" Eric murmurs back as he trundles up the middle of the buss, plunking himself down in a seat behind Lach and Jack. Great. He gets to sit next to Peter. "…just tell us when to start the fun."

Ramon straightens, getting a sudden, wicked idea. He focuses on one of the soldiers. He's going to make the man think the nearest bush just set on fire, if he can. Then he's going to project, into the man's head, in a booming voice: *GOD IS WATCHING YOU.* He'll toss in the name, if he can. Hey, if he can mindfuck lots of soldiers into running instead of going straight for the death…well. Its harder to think about killing shit in front of real priests and nuns.

"……….." As the Agent that just hit on Lachlan patpats the back of the bus as it takes off, the dried bush next to him suddenly catches on fire. "OH MY GOD WHAT THE FU— ! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!" Good job, Ramon. You converted someone.

Candy murmurs into the comm, a helpful hint, "I was going to recommend chicken breasts wrapped in plastic wrap. It's what my good friend La'Chelle Pretorius used to use. Reference for next time~!" But we're on a mission now, right? Right. She shuts her trap and waits for the signal to start being badass. Er. Shooting. Maybe.

"Nah, potatoes. Knew the water shit wouldna werk too well." Maybe Cass helped him with that assessment. Maybe. Lachlan's not saying. He also waits for the signal to move, because he's sure as hell ready to beat the shit out of someone with these gazongas.

Without another word, Trina wraps her hair up on itself into a messy knot. And then she shifts the car into gear and starts to move it along the previously agreed upon course. Her blue eyes narrow in concentration, for some people must actually concentrate and pay attention to their surroundings.

What exactly is wrong with sitting next to Peter? All this activity going on, he glances up at the taller-yet-younger man-nun next to him. "Gotta wonder if they put us in these outfits just to have something to laugh at." They have plenty of girls in the Saints to have done this without— did Lachlan just say his boobs were potatoes? "No wonder they itch." For his own sake, he'd gone for a smaller set of boobs for the purpose of comfort, which he's glad for.

Ali ain't exactly the sort to shoot at things when they sneak up on her - not even in the car, sadly. But she /can/ work Gene's early warning system like a virtuoso at the keyboard, by now - and as things start rolling? She gets focused on the business at hand.

Besides. She can always listen in the editing room later, when she's making those incriminating CDs.

"Potatoes. I'll 'member that for next time."


Jack rolls his broad shoulders inside his habit and lets out a sigh. "Jesus, are we there yet?"

Arm. Bow. Leg. Boot. Shoulder. Quiver. Glove. Knee.


Oh yes, Prime's 'Suiting Up Montage' is pretty quick, but in the end, he's peeling on a classic domino ask onto his face, just for No Time's Sake and he's all geared up to do some damage. Or… well… just be badass.

If anyone's seen Grindhouse, particularly Death Proof, that's what Elena's doing, except she won't be so suicidal enough to actually slide herself onto the windshield and block Trina's way. As the Jeep starts moving and picking up speed, Elena mounts herself up on the roof, crouched there like a cat and the straps ensuring that she doesn't fall off the roof. One knee braced down, she looks ready to spring.

The convoy continues to move, up along the route that Elena collected intel for in those ten days that she had been gone. Her team's Jeep is moving in an interception course along………..until there they are. She closes her eyes, and uses her Ping, throwing out a wide net once she's in range. She uses this in conjunction with her other ability. Namely - to make people drowsy and…well. High. In the leading Jeep, the driver and his passengers suddenly see Pink Elephants, fluffy white clouds, and roses. There wasn't even any time to demand who the hell was rockin' the ganja. All they know is that, suddenly….

"WHAT THE HELL?" the driver in the bus blurts out all of a sudden as the Jeep in front of them starts careening lazily to the side of the road, screeches, does a languid zig-zag, and -tips over-, smashing sideways into the concrete. A couple of arms loll out from the window, but they look like they've suddenly fallen asleep in it and the engines are still running. The bus is forced to slow, its way in front blocked. Of course, the convoy at the moment is in a state of confusion. No explodeys? What the hell just happened?

Leaving Ramon's team to approach from behind to do what they will.

Ramon is focusing on the trucks at the back of the convoy. He just…he can't. There's religious people here. He can't bring Kitty or guns to bear. So instead he focuses on the soldiers in back (pulling free of Lachlan's head, sorry Lach) and starts adding a blazing angel. *GOD IS WATCHING YOU.* He has to struggle to resist adding the words, *PUNKS*. The idea is for his hallucinatory angel to blind them. He can't suck anyone into a full on nightmare, but…simple stuff…

"…Jack…please don't tell me there is going to be a next time…" Eric says with a shake of his head. "Come on, man, once is enough!" Pause. "These things do itch…" Pause. "…and apparently God /is/ with us…" He mutters as he catches snatches of 'Personal Jesus' playing over the radio.

However he just waits sitting there, as all sorts of things start to go wrong for the HS guys. "…now?"


Jack makes his move as soon as he sees that Elena's made hers. He flips open his hefty bible and pulls a pair of pistols from inside the hollowed-out pages. One he hands to Lachlan, the other he tosses to Eric. That done, the bible is discarded and Jack stands up. He bends over to grab the hem of his dress and lift it, revealing not only his nudity to the guards but also the submachine gun that he's been concealing between his legs all freakin' damn day. When he's yanked it free, he sights down the barrel at the back of the closest guard and pulls the trigger. "Sorry God," he laments. "But we've gotta break the rules."

One of the guards just stares. "OH MY GOD! THE HAIR! THE HAIR!"

Gun! Yay! Lachlan has a gun. He stands up and raises the pistol to cover Jack while he retrieves his submachine gun. Any agents or soldiers who stand up are going to get headshot'd. But the Scot doesn't make any apologies to God. God should apologize to him for making him wear a couple pounds of itchy potatoes on his chest.

Elena's on the roof. The time has definitely come to drive carefully, and her hands, wrapped in worn, black, fingerless leather driving gloves, clutch the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles are turning white. As the car in front of them skids to a halt, Trina sets her jaw and then moves to pull up alongside. Time to take the first of car of pretty toy soldiers out. Everything is, in her mind, going perfectly according to plan. According to plan is good. "Showtime."

Eric? He does indeed catch the gun as he smirks slightly. "…and we are very good at breaking the rules," He murmurs as he swings the pistol up. However he doesn't actually shoot anyone, he just vaults off the back of the chair. Using the vault to propel him into two guards in the back, the first one gets his foot to his face. The second one gets a gun pointed directly at his head.

"…God really is watching you," He says conversationally. "…so I wouldn't recommend moving. Oh. And drop your weapons if you could."

…there were other ways to handle this. He could have told all of them to disarm themselves. Peter visibly flinches when the leader of the Saints lifts up his skirt and takes aim at the guards. He'd been red in the face before, and now he looks pale instead. This is not a sight he's ever going to get used to, or enjoy. Not two minutes ago they were all joking and now… Really, what did he expect them to do? It's still like being stuck in a bad action movie that parents don't want their kids going to. And not because of dorks hanging out. The only one in there without a firearm, he doesn't even stand, just raises his hand, taking a two of the remaining guards and hauling them up into the roof of the bus and holds them there. The idea would be to make it so they can't move an inch, much less pull a trigger.

There are three HS SUVs at the back, being tailed by Ramon. But the moment the telepath makes his move as the bus slows, and forces everyone behind it to slow down, something strange happens. The convoy gets disrupted - at least, the ones at the back. The one directly behind the bus suddenly swerves. Because it's not every day that they see a BLINDING SERAPH in the way of a not-so-routine transport. The other SUV swerves violently, forcing the other two to scatter - except the same vision affects them too. It plows right into a fire hydrant and crushes itself into a telephone pole. Whatever's going on, something is wrong, because the driver of said SUV comes running out, yelling about ghosts and spirits or….well, honestly, visions from above. So in essence, Papa Gomez causes a three car pile-up on the side of the road.

The bus continues to move. And then? One guard is shot. One agent gets up from the chair, only for Lachlan to point the gun at him in mid-way pointing his gun at him. Eric kicks one guard with his KUNG FU NUN with PISTOL GRIP ACTION move, sending both of them down the aisle. Peter manages to grab two of the guards and slam them up the roof. Their guns drop.

And all that's left is the driver. That keeps…well. Not driving. Because the SUV that the Elena High had caused to swerve and tip over is blocking the way of the bus. Somewhere, at the back, those remaining in the SUVs are still holding onto the blinding vision they've got going in their heads.

Like Trina says, it's showtime. Elena unstraps herself and vaults off the Jeep when Trina manages to stop it. "Come on, guys, in the bus before they get back to their wits and shoot us." The ditto is there, ready to take over and drive the Saint vehicle away. Meanwhile, she'll cover Trina (though the forcefield lady can take care of herself) who's the designated bus driver again, her hand out and ready to take down whoever. The aim is to get all of the Saints in the same bus, after all.

There is a humming, distant, but closing in. They sound like helicopter blades.

"Giddyap!" Jack whoops victoriously as they neutralize the guards in one fell swoop. "Decisive action, baby! That's what I'm talkin' about! Now will somebody throw these assholes out the back door?" He makes for the front of the bus, casually treading on the man lying in the aisle as he passes. He approaches the driver and gestures toward the door with the barrel of his firearm. "You. Get the fuck out. And God be with you."

Once the car stops, Candy clambers out, all limbs and boots (yes, boots) as she struts with authority towards the bus. She may not shoot a gun like the rest of them, or kick in faces quite effectively, but she certainly can walk the walk of an action hero, handbag slung over her arm as she moves to board the bus. Then, she realises she should probably hurry, and upgrades to a bouncy jog when it seems like most other people are more frantic to get inside. Time to calm down the detainees and she pokes her head inside the door. "Hello~!" she says, and beams at the nun boys. "You all look fabulous." And to the prisoners, she unclips her bag, takes out a gun, only to pull out a paper bag and replace the gun back inside. "Now who needs a cookie?"

Eric just grins. "Gentlemen, you heard the Shepard there. Everyone without a ticket out the bus!" He pops the back hatch. "…that would be all of you Homeland Security gentlemen. Peter! If you will kindly show them the door!" Pause. "…and Shep? Please. PLEASE. PLEASE. At least boxers next time!" Pause. "Thats some serious mental trauma."


"What kind of cookies? If they're oatmeal raisin, I'm so there."

When the doors open, the two guards on the roof detach and fly right out on top of the ones that fell out before. With a second gesture of his hand, Peter sweeps out Jack's dead body as well. They don't need that in the bus. And he's still sitting down, looking relatively displeased at this whole thing. Until Candy appears. With cookies. That— "Not right now." Maybe in a bit.

POP! Lachlan fires off the pistol, but he's not aiming to kill. He's aiming to disable. And then he's moving forward, grabbing hold of one of his fake breasts to smack the agent across the face with a few pounds of potatoes. That accomplished, he grabs the other man and bodily hauls him over to be tossed out into the street. Job well done! Dusting off his hands, he thrusts a thumb over his shoulder at the ejected guard and utters, "No ticket." Then, "Let's get the bloody hell outta here. Sounds like we've got company."

"Thank you," Trina whispers, but it's not to anybody living. It's to the Jeep once more, as she strokes the steering wheel once. It feels like abandoning a teammate. You know. If teammates were made of steel and rubber and chrome. This teammate is. And then she's in motion.

The mechanic throws open her door and then hurls herself out of the car with a frantic flurry of activity, a blur of black denim and leather. She's got her force field up and she's making a mad dash for the bus. The man that Jack's got up in arms? Yeah, Trina wastes no time. Using her forcefield's ability to expand, she forces the door open and then barrels up the stairs. Grabbing ahold of the driver by his collar, her mechanic's hands are steel-like as they rip the agent out of his seat and towards the stairs down so that she can settle down in that seat and start to buckle in. It's done in a matter of moments. After all, there shouldn't be too much resistance. Jack's taking care of that. "Sorry, sugar," she croons to the toppling soldier. "Bus just commandeered."

Jack grins proudly as his lady mounts the vehicle. Once she's properly buckled in, he gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Damn, you're pretty when you're kickin' ass." He eyeshifts. Bus full of nuns. Some of them are even real. Father Brady is lurking around here somewhere, as well. The mental wheels are spinning. "Baby. 'member when we were talking 'bout… Y'know. Gettin' married? Wanna do that? Like… Now-ish?"

As Candy asks the detainees as to who needs a cookie, several of them raise their hands automatically. "….are they Mrs. Fields?" asks Jamal, with a hopeful look on his dark face.

Whoa. Trina smash.

Elena gets on the bus, then leaps out of it just in time for the driver to tumble out, and a dead body and a few guards are ejected forcibly thanks to TK. She hops back in, scrambling up and making room for the rest of the Saints as they pile inside. The dittos commandeer, YES COMMANDEER, the vehicles left behind, and the other dittos are on the roofs of several buildings. Go ahead, choppers. Make their day.

The younger Gomez jerks open a window and looks out, and up. "……….yep. Lachlan's right, we got incoming. Let's g— " She pauses, and looks at Jack. "………..what did you say?"

Father Brady is busily gnawing on his cookie calmly. And beams whenever Ramon enters the bus. "Ramon! Fancy seeing you here," he says in his delightful Irish accent that's not typed out because the GM has enough to do. And then, he lifts up his cuffed hands. "Cookie?"

And Elena, who's known the old priest since she was five, bounds over to give the priest a hug.

"Father," Ramon says, walking up to him. He claps his shoulder and then goes looking for cuff keys in the clothes of guards who can't do anything about it anymore. A sudden thought hits him and he realizes something. He hasn't been to confession since it all went wrong.

"Not for you, sweetie!" Candy says in a mock scold to Eric, busy handing out cookies to detainees with a glossy smile. "Home baked, here you go~," and on and on, working her way down the aisle, giving a cookie to those that don't even raise their hands, patting the shoulders of the more shellshocked prisoners. "Now, who wants to offer me a seat?" she says, once she's done, and happily perches herself on the knee of the of the hunkier detainees.

"Sweetness, I'm a little busy. Now is not the time to be kiddin' about this," Trina growls with a strange smile on her lips that is the result of that inner MARRIED SOMEDAY glee and the very sobering reality of the situation, arm furiously snaking out to pull the folding door shut. She's already shifting the bus into gear and starting to pull onto the expected course, and her attention is needed there. Her blue eyes are wide as she starts aligning mirrors and then she rips her sunglasses off, only to throw them to the floor without a second thought. They're getting in the way of her line of sight.

"Evening Father!" Eric calls cheerfully towards the old gentleman. After all he's met him before, strolling by and pulling off the habit before snagging a cookie from Candy ANYWAY. He's a shadowthiefguy, and his hand comes out of a pocket of darkness right over the plate. He can do that. He noms his happily before a thought strikes him. He looks down at himself and hrmms a moment before finishing off the cookie. "…er…how long am going to have to be in confessional for /this/…" He murmurs softly. Shaking his head he blinks slightly at the sound of the copters coming in. "…we got cover on the roofs right?"


"Jack did you just say…" Pause. "…well, we do have a priest."

Lachlan, meanwhile, is content to just make sure everything's cool — and to keep an eye on those choppers. Everything else sorta goes right over his head. Bit preoccupied now, thanks. The marriage banter goes in one ear and out the other as the sort of usual marriage banter shared between Jack and Trina.

"Married?" Peter perks up, suddenly looking a little less ill, but— damn, they'd just finished ejecting guards and Homeland people, and now he's talking about marriage… Even if… It's sweet. And… he likes weddings. He's always been a big fan of them since his brother's wedding and— … he looks down at his clothes. They— are so not dressed right for this.

And the bus is off. The handcuffs are dropped from his wrists, and Father Brady waves at Eric a bit from where he's seated. "I thought I'd never see you upstarts again," Father Brady remarks rather cheerfully…despite the fact that he'd been condemned to die at some point that week.

The route courses through the middle of downtown New York, cutting through Times Square - which was a disaster zone, so while there's barely any intact roads, the thing is big enough to plow through potholes and debris that might be littered in their path. The helicopters come closer….but just as they come within line of sight, Lachlan would be able to see a bright blast of -something- coming from one of the rooftops to peg the first one that's put a bead in their location, hurtling the mass of metal into chunky, fiery debris onto the ground.

And somewhere in the route, is Cass. In a coffee shop. If only she knew what craziness was headed in her direction.

"Nuh uh. Not kiddin'." Jack shakes his head forcefully. "C'mon. We got the Padre right here. An' when's the next time we'll all be together like this?" He bounces up and down a bit, mussing his dress. "Can we? Can we please? Wait… I know." He hikes up his habit slightly and settles awkwardly down on one knee, a feat only made harder by the fact that the bus is in motion. "Will you marry me?"

As if the Man Upstairs Himself has planned it, the explosion of the helicopter serves to punctuate his question like fireworks.


The dittos on the roof lay SUPPRESSING FIRE.

"Figures, Jack. Just figures," Ramon says, getting Kitty and sticking his head out the window to sight on a helicopter. "It /figures/ that at /your/ wedding, she wears the pants and you wear the dress." He smirks. He loves Jack and respects him as a Man, but…but…BUT IT WAS RIGHT THERE.

Oh yes, Cass. Cass is sitting in a coffee shop. Why? Well, she was told to, really. And you don't mess with the plan. Whatever it is her fiancé and her crazy friends are doing, well, she doesn't put herself as a part of operations often, if ever. If anything really bad happened Abigail would be left parent-less. Unaware of marriage proposals, nuns, or buses careening out of control, the mother sits at her little table wondering why the hell her friends are late.

Candy is busy feeding Jamal bits of cookie, but she will never in her life miss a 'will you marry me'. Ever. Her head snaps around to stare at a nun'd up Jack proposing to a bus-driving Trina, and she goes like this, "eeeEEeee," and flaps her hands a little.

"Yeah, Trina, y'gotta say yes!" Milkdud encourages from the back. "Come on! He's showin' some leg! You gotta take 'im!"

If it wasn't for the explosions above, Peter would find that to be just about the sweetest thing ever. Even if Jack is currently in a dress, and he knows for a fact (from visual experience) that he's wearing nothing under it. There's a glance from him, towards a certain someone on the bus, which he then ends when Ramon says what he does. Now. Now he smiles. Lopsided as it is. Well, she DID say Jack's the one that cooks. He almost comments on that, but then realizes that HE also cooks, so… Ahem.

"FUCK YEAH!" Lachlan bellows when he sees the helicopter go down. And then … wait, what? Marriage. Dresses. Pants. He twists his head around to squint at everyone in the bus. What the bloody hell are they all on about n— ? Oh. "… fuck, yer righ'." This is the best place and time to get married. "D'ye mind if we swing by an' pick up Cass ta make it a twofer?"

"Oh come on Trina," Eric adds his voice in to the rest. "I'll even drive for you while you say your vows!" He grins slightly as he glances out the window. Hrmmm. A few copters left. He sticks his head out and pulls out a cut down six shot grenade launcher.


"You can't say no to a man that brings his own fireworks to the proposal!" He adds with a bright smile as he ducks his way back in, the explosions lighting up the sky as the grenades go off. Pause. "Though I'm not exactly dressed for it…" Pause.


He just grins slightly. "…and if you say yes then I'll have Louis start cooking us up a feast!"

"BOOYEAH!" Elena cries, seeing the chopper go down in the haze of fire, having been situated near Lachlan since she was peering out the window with him. Yeah, said certain someone likes her fireworks. And when she realizes Jack is serious, she STARES at the two of them in the front of the bus. "…wh…wh…." They're doing this NOW? WHAT? "…is EVERYBODY getting married?!" she blurts out. She's 21. She's never had a boyfriend ever, and suddenly EVERYONE's getting hitched. "I'm'a go marry Candy's cookie bag," she grumps.

Wait. Satellite.

She digs into Gene's gear bag, and drags out the little satellite dish that he packed in it. Plugging it in the portable power source, she glances over at Eric and Prime. "Cover me, I'm goin' out," she says. "YOU TWO." She points to Trina and Jack. "Lemme set it up first THEN you guys can…uh. Swing by— " She looks at Lachlan. "Where IS Cass? You said she was gonna meet us somewhere right?"

Trina is driving. SHE IS DRIVING. "GAWDAMMIT, YOU PEOPLE ARE MAKING IT VERY HARD TO DRIVE RIGHT NOW." Never you mind the fact that she is absolutely uncertain as to whether grin like a Cheshire cat or to start throwing things at people. And then she realizes that she just cursed in front of a bus of holy people. "I'M SORRY." She yells backwards for their benefit. And then she momentarily tears her gaze away from the road to look at Jack. And melts. He is absolutely the cutest thing that the Good Lord ever created. Her eyes roll upward. "Fine. FINE. Yes. YES!" And, despite her irritated tone, the corners of her mouth are pulling up. Secret smile. "If he'll do it while I'm fuckin' drivin'." Because she cannot pull over, and… she's a control freak who will not give up the wheel anyway.

Peter opens his mouth, closes it again. Oh look, there are cookies. Moving forward, Peter finally claims one and eats it. And then shuts up. He's not saying a word.

Jamal doesn't touch Candy's boobs, despite obvious temptation.


Wedding? Father Brady's silvery head jerks upwards. "Weddings?" he says, beaming. "I LOVE weddings! Drinks all around!"

"Deal!" Jack agrees happily with Trina's mobile-marriage compromise.

Unfortunately, he now has a problem. He doesn't have a ring. They've thought about it. They've joked about it. They even talked about it seriously a couple of days ago. But really, who has time to shop overstock.com when you've got the President locked away in your proverbial living room? He ducks his head against his chest. Embarrassed. Very embarrassed. He's only got one idea right now. He snaps his fingers and uses his ability to produce a cherry-flavored Ring Pop.

He holds it out to Trina and blushes furiously. It's hard to say the words with so many people watching. They run together a bit, but he does his best. "IuhvyouTrina."

"What was that?" Ramon asks with a smirk. He's done shooting now. "What? Can't hear you, Jack. Gotta enunciate, Chief. It helps if you separate the words out a little. I'm an old man." He cups his ear. "Too many explosions. Can't hear. Speak up."

Yay for marriage! Though Eric just laughs and shakes his head. "Somehow…I thought you were going to say something like that!" He calls cheerfully towards Trina. He blinks slightly. "…cover me? COVER ME?! THEY HAVE COPTERS YOU CRAZY WO—-" Then she's already scrambling out. He just stalks to the back and /kicks/ open the back door.

"Stupid," FOOM!

"Crazy," FWACKOOM!

"Impossible!" THOOM!


…why does he have to love the dang woman so very much. -_- He would even marry her now, but thats just a bit impossible. Besides, it would kinda make all his hard thought out plans moot. Can't have that. Plans are good things to have!

"Hey! I am -NOT- impossible!"

Oh Elena. Why must you lie when you're never good at it?

Eric is doing the covering fire for her, at least for a bit. But she does swing half-out the window, and almost gets pegged by shrapnel. She jerks back in, her eyes wide. But she goes back out, and SLAPS the satellite dish on top of the bus. She'll let Gene crank out the machinery, and Ali to prep her broadcast, but once that's done, she sees a Starbucks up ahead.

And her Boosted eyes see a familiar person.


If Cass should look up from where she's calmly waiting, she'll hear her name………and a wildly careening bus moving past the window……and explosions from above somewhere FAR back. At least the dittos are doing their jobs. Elena ducks back in, grabs a backpack, and starts crawling out the window. What. The hell. Is she DOING?

Sitting at her table by the window, Cass /does/ look out the window. And what she sees just makes her freeze. Careening bus, explosions, someone screaming her name? Yes, those would be her friends. Dumbfounded, she just stares at the scene. Oh God, she does /not/ know these people. Sheepishly, the lab head looks around the Starbucks at the people all watching the unfolding action sequence outside and then slooooowly gets up from her seat as if she's going to go to the bathroom. Instead, she just kind of tip-toes to the front door and then starts dashing down the sidewalk to attempt to meet her ride. Why does everything have to end in explosions with them?

There's Cass. Lachlan scrambles over to the door in order to hang out and reach out an arm to snag Cass and help her climb into the bus. "Hey baby! Need a ride?" Yes, that would be her man. Dressed like a nun. With large breasts.

"Fuck," Trina replies looking up, as though she were able to see through the ceiling. Helicopters. There's a sad look cast to Jack. "Sugar, I love you, too, but we may have to put this off. I swear, I'll make it up to you." Ignoring everything else so that she can concentrate, the dark haired woman makes her way to the pickup point. "EVERYONE HOLD ON TO YOUR ASSES; WE'VE GOT A DIME TO SQUASH." People have about ten seconds before she then slams the bus to a stop, the back of the bus fishtailing before it finally halts in a cloud of burning rubber. Reaching over, Trina leans over and pushes the lever to open the folding doors and grins broadly. "HI CASS. GET ON NOW, PLEASE." Because trying to pull her through a window may not work so well.

Moving over to the side, Peter gets to one of the windows. He's not stupid enough to go out onto the roof, he's not Elena, but he just wants to be able to see her— and literally hold her against the bus when they do stop on a dime. Cause there's not much for her to hold onto, otherwise. At least he has a seat— and the window itself. Though even that part isn't fun.

"There's going to be a WEDDING!" Candy says to… utterly no one in particular. Maybe Jamal. Or maybe the detainees she's surrounded by, as a few have swapped up seats to sit closer. She claps her hands together, handbag swinging, and steadies herself on Jamal when the bus comes to a halt. "I wish I'd dressed up for the occasion, how's my hair?"

"ALL ABOARD FOR THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE!" Calls Eric to Cass as he heads out the back of the van. Yes. He has a nun costume on, and a grenade launcher in one hand. He smirks slightly towards her and just waves. He blinks slightly though as Elena crawls back out of the window. "…YOU ARE TOO IMPOSSIBLE! THIS PROVES IT!" He roars back towards her before he snarls slightly, a snap of his fingers and a hold of dark appears, sticking his hand through it he pulls out a long length of rope. "AT LEAST TIE YOURSELF DOWN YOU INSANE WOMAN!"

"Oh sweet Jesus," Cass says appropriately as she sees the getup that Lachlan is dressed in. At first she didn't recognize him. The man she left earlier in the day didn't have breasts. As the bus fishtails to a stop in front of her and the doors open, she demurely steps aboard as if this were normal public transport. Maybe she'll even pull out an old Metrocard and swipe it just for authenticity's sake. "I think just by boarding this bus I'll be sent to hell. Thank God, I think I'm a buddhist." Weddings? Nuns? She's been led into a life of sin. By nuns.

Like the object of serenity himself, Father Brady is up at the front, smiling benignly. He takes advantage of the fact that Eric's shooting from the back of the bus, the dittos are hailing suppressing fire to the incoming choppers, and that Trina has stopped the bus for Lachlan to grab Cass….dressed as a nun. "Well, then," he tells Jack. "Who am I marrying? These two as well?" He gestures to Cass and Lachlan. He's got his bible.

The bus stopping, for just a moment, helps Elena out. She's got one leg in the window, so there is something Peter can hold onto. But…just her leg, and she's…just…what the hell is she doing? The backpack is tossed back down, and she slips back through the roof, dropping next to Peter with her leg stretched across him considering he'd been hanging onto it. She beams at him. There's SOMETHING UNHINGED in her eyes. Oh god. What did she do.

"Hi," she tells the young Petrelli cheerfully, and then she folds up her leg and -glowers- at Eric….and blows him a raspberry. Pbbbbbbbbbbt! But she smiles at him. How could she be angry when there's a wedding? And from her back pocket, she pulls out a remote. "Papa? You wanna do the honors once we hit the parade?" she asks, tossing her old man the remote. Because he, too, likes explodeys.

"Elena, what did you do?" Peter asks when she lands back in the bus next to him— and yes, he touched her leg. But he was more interested in keeping her on the bus than anything else.

"… yer a boobist?" Lachlan glances down at himself, then lifts the potato-filled breasts with one eyebrow raised. "Ye dunna find these attractive, d'ye? B'cause I'm no' wearin' 'em again." Boobist or no. Then, he glances at Jack and Trina. He won't marry Cass here if they'd rather it be their day. It's only a thought.

"Oh hell yes. My daughter, you do love me." Pause. Beat. "Sorry Father. We'll talk later." He stands there with this thing and this big manic grin on his face.


This is the moment where Jack has made himself vulnerable. Like a little puppy, he's rolled on his back and exposed his metaphorical privates for the world to see with his public proposal… and they're going to wait until later? He pushes his lower lip out briefly and his shoulders slump. "We're waitin' for later," he informs Father Brady morosely. "Right baby?" Smiling gamely, he reaches out to touch Trina's elbow. "Whatever you want. Wedding's s'posed to be about the bride."

Eric doesn't ask what she just did. He just blinks at her a moment as she tosses a remote to Ramon. Then he gets a biiiiiiiig grin on his face. A little kid like grin. He even ignores the raspberry and the touching of the leg and the glower. He just has to beam.


He sounds so hopeful. Like Rico from the Penguins. Its almost adorable.

Then he just grins towards Lachlan. "Yes, Lachlan. She's a boobist." He says deadpan. "She wants your potatoes." Then he just has to laugh as he looks towards Jack and Trina. He looks towards them and just sniffles. Come on, Trina. Can't say no to PUPPY DOG EYES like that.

Trina looks to Jack. And sees that look. She's not going to be the one to squish him. To ruin all the work she's done. He's been brave today, so she's not going to leave him with his dick just handing in the wind. She'll never be the one to do it. She immediately pushes herself out of her seat, and smiles broadly. "Oh, fuck me sideways, no. We're doing this now. ERIC. GET YOUR SHADOWY ASS UP HERE AND DRIVE." And then, more darkly, she adds, "And if you crash this bus and ruin my wedding, I swear on all that's holy, I will kill you before Homeland ever gets the chance."

Then there's a patent smile as she plucks the candy ring out of Jack's hand and slips it onto her ring finger before wiggling all of her fingers to admire it. It's a girly gesture. SHE DOESN'T CARE, SO ANYONE WHO DOES CAN GO SUCK ON A PUBIC HAIR. "Just so you know."

"A what?" Cass looks stunned and like she might have actually been hit by this wedding bus as opposed to picked up by it. "Wait, marriage, what?" Maybe she'd make more quips or other smart alec comments if she weren't so taken aback. What in the world has she been dragged into? "No, honey, it's okay, your potatoes are fine, but I prefer you without them."

"I do love you, Papa," Elena says simply. At Peter's wary question, she glances over at him, and smiiiiiiiiiiiiles. It's almost sweet, if it wasn't for the fact that she probably did SOMETHING that caused those eyes to glint a little maniacally like that. "You'll see," she says with a grin, getting off the chair and nodding sagely to Eric. "Kaboom," she confirms.

But…blow up what?

When Trina calls that she's gonna do it, she looks like she's about to volunteer. In fact, she's got this look on her face, like she's about to do the Hermione Granger thing with her hand up and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Can haz bus now? But she calls Eric. And deflates. But…but…the float. Q__Q

"Good, b'cause Chri— Christmas— " Lachlan shoots a wary look at the Padre and the nuns surrounding them "— these things're itchin'." And then, he proceeds to struggle to remove them. Off goes the wimple, then he undoes the back of the habit and struggles with the clasp of the bra-like fake-boobs-holding implement. Doesn't take him long to pop it off. He's had experience undoing these things and is a champion Off-With-The-Bra guy. So off it goes. And then half-naked, standing in half a nun's habit, he pulls off the pounds of potatoes that were once large breasts and drops them onto the floor of the bus. Then, glancing around at the nuns again, he utters, "Sorry." Because surely they can't see half-naked men. It's got to be against one of their laws.

Eric blinks once, then twice. Then just beams. Jack is going to find him just steping out of a portal of shadow next to Trina with a huge smile on his face. "I'm here! I'm here!" He calls cheerfully, adjusting the com a moment. "Louis! Make a wedding feast!" He says with a laugh. Then he pauses a moment. "…yes now! We need it when we get home!" Pause. "Well if you can't do—-" He pauses again, having to hold the phone away from his ear. Wow. Thats alot of tagalong. And a lot of cursing too. "…I'll take that as a yes. See you soon."

He clicks up the phone and then smirks slightly and just slides into the seat vacated by Trina.

The nuns stare. The abs. They're hypnotic.

"There is a God," one of them whispers.

Jack pumps his fist victoriously. "Yes. Outstanding!" He drags himself up from his awkward squat and links his arm through his sweetheart's. "Okay, Padre! Let's get this show on the world before the lady gets smart and changes her mind. Have and to hold. Rich and sick and all that. I do! Go 'head and skip to her half." Beaming, he leans against Trina and sighs dreamily.

Yes, Peter's wary, but at the same time he's still watching Elena bounde and look excited. He's most definitely not a nun admiring Lachlan's abs, for the record. He's watching Elena— and then glancing towards the front to see why she wanted to drive. There's going to be a boom. "Do— do you need to sit down?" he asks, offering an arm to Elena as he settles into his seat. No seatbelt, but he's still against the window. There's something to brace himself on.

"This just became the wedding bus!" Eric says cheerfully as he guns the engine, grinning like a madman he he continues with The Plan.

Oh there will be kabooms. He likes his Kabooms.

The bus takes off. There's still explosions, but they seem far away now. The Dittos are doing a good job. It flies across the highway and bears for the course that Elena picked, which would take them in a direct interception course for the parade. Now, the parade was intentionally organized just for the purposes of welcoming Nathan Petrelli to the city. But now, since the President is, to compare it to the infamous Macaulay Culkin movie, Lost in New York (AAAAH! *faceclap*), they decided to hold the parade ANYWAY. But not as a WELCOME PRESIDENT PETRELLI event. But a GIVE BACK PRESIDENT PETRELLI event.

…which, honestly, is much more fitting for the Saints to crash.

"I guess we all better sit down," Elena says simply when the bus starts moving, and when it lurches forward, it dumps her on the seat next to Peter and her Papa. Before she could settle in, however, she twists around her seat, and tosses Ali a CD. "Play that when we're in range!" she calls to the broadcaster, who gives her a thumbs up.

And…there it is. The ugly, red, white, and blue paper maché statue of Nathan Petrelli, rising from the distance and all on its own, considering it's the centerpiece of the event. Most of the crowd was gathered in the city circle on the other side, leaving its surrounding area bare and devoid, thankfully, of civilians. After all, someone, probably Satan, had decided that this monstrosity needs its own danged space so it can proceed oh-so-majestically along the street.

Father Brady clears his throat, and turns to Trina. "Do you, Katrina Mah," he speaks. "Take this poor spawn of Potato Land as your lawfully wedded husband the moment you guys actually sign a bloody marriage certificate, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death and fireworks and explosions and kidnapping of Antichrists do you part, for as long as you both shall live?"

There's a choked sob behind. It's Milkdud, wiping his eyes at the edge of a nun's habit, who swats him for his trouble. "This is so beautiful," he sniffs.

"…" Ramon had forgotten about that statue.


Jack gets shot a glance as he just barrels willy nilly through his part of the vows. Trina knew what she was in for when she told him that she would. She shouldn't be surprised now. And then the bus JERKS forward as Eric takes over, and she stumbles forward. Which is to say back further into the bus. "Eriiiiic," she growls low in warning. "Don't kill the transmission, either." And then the priest starts talking. She stares at him. Then she leans in to Jack, whispering to him out of the corner of her mouth without ever shifting her horrified gaze. "…Is he really a priest? You did not just punk me in front of all of the Saints, right? Because I will kill you."

"Go easy on him, Trina," Jamal yells from the back. "I think one of the agents tazered him a little too much this morning!" After all, IT'S ONLY DETAINMENT.

It's alright, the nuns don't have to look at Lachlan. No no, he's all hers. When the bus jerks to the side, Cass kind of collides into Lachlan. Looks like they should be seated. Grabbing a seat, she pulls Lachlan down onto one with her. This is going to be bumpy and she's not about to go tumbling out a window because she tripped over something. All the speaking of marriage and hearing the exchanging of vows, well, it's sweet and happy and she doesn't need some big ceremony or anything of the like. Instead, mentally, she just inserts her own name for where Trina's was in the Father's speech. Taking Lachlan's hand, she leans over and whispers, "I do." Just for them.

"He's the only priest I ever confessed to," Jack proclaims proudly. He reaches out and gives Father Brady a hearty, manly cuff on the shoulder. It's his trademark show of comraderie. "And we're from the same town! So… Do you, baby?" He turns to Trina and chews at his lower lip hopefully. His eyes are alight with excitement and he nods unconsciously.

Oh it's just so cute. Candy watches on, getting all racoon eye'd as mascara starts to drip dramatic trails down her cheeks. Sure, she has makeup that doesn't do that, but she has makeup made specifically for this effect. "It's so sweet," she gushes in a whisper to those sitting around her.


"I know," Milkdud weeps next to Candy.

Jamal slaps Milkdud upside the head, and busily bounces Candy on his knee. Heh heh heh. Look at them jiggle. Score.

WHUMPF, Lachlan lands in a seat next to Cass, half-naked and all. Because he's sure as hell not putting it all back on again. It's too damn hot. He watches the vows thing as well with a big broad grin, which disappears just slightly when Cass leans over and whispers. He glances at her, surprised, then grins again and returns the gesture with a whisper of his own: "I do too." Pause. "'Cept the other way 'round. I do ye." Pause. "Er. I take ye. Fer m'wife."

Leave it to Lachlan Deatley to get married half-naked and screw up his vows. Way to go, Scotland.

The wedding going on right in front of them, while they're destroying a mockery of his brother (or that limp dick Logan), Peter's mostly distracted between the presense of Elena — and her father so close — and the weddings themselves. The statue can be destroyed with him not watching. They'll have it on video, if he knows them at all. Weddings are nice, even weddings in a bus, on the run, when he's dressed as a nun… which part of that rhymes a little. A glance is paid towards Cass and Lachlan as well, and his smile softens quite a bit.

"I do." It's a simple statement, and Trina says it quietly as she is jostled and struggles to maintain her balance on the moving bus (once she's assured that she's not going to appear on some jacked up version of Candid Camera back at Saints HQ). Her eyes, however, are only on Jack. …except for the few times that she glances up when Eric messes up. Long, longing looks to Jack, punctuated by quick, agitated bits of likely unseen fury shot in Eric's direction. That's how it goes.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife!" Father Brady declares, folding his bible in his hands, and glances over to Cass and Lachlan making lovey-faces in the front row. "And you two too. You may kiss the bride. And I swear to the Lord himself, boy." The last to Jack. "If you don't do this right, I'm disowning you from Ireland." And he can do that, you know. His power comes from on high.

"Can I just maul the trans a little bit?" Eric calls back towards Trina as he laughs. However the acceleration and the driving is smooth as anything, even as the man pulls the ungainly vechicle in line with his target. The tires scream and bark on the pavement, the thing its not meant for tight cornerings. "Yes he really is a Priest! The best kind of priest!" He grins before he stomps on the gas, sending the bus careening towards the parade. He doesn't even lay on the horn.

"…target acquired," He mutters over the com as he closes in on the HUGE and EVIL statue. "God…that thing is HORRIBLE! We are so doing the world a favor."

To the strains of the song 'Wild Thing' booming over the radio, the young man takes very very careful aim. Can't ruin this. Its a once in a lifetime chance! He's got the bus going at the right speed, the right aim, even the right song going on the radio.

"Wild thing!" He sings along. "You make my heart sing!" He's got a decent voice…even if its not quite chapel music.

Trying to time it juuuust at the moment when the good Father makes it mostly official, he sends the bus plowing through the huge confection of paper mache, wood, and shear UGLY. Its mostly full of UGLY, that and FAIL. He also aims the bus very, very specifically. Laughing like a madman.


The cameras rolling, the bus goes plowing /right/ through the statues crotch. Pieces of it flying everywhere as the bus rockets through the thing, sending pieces FLYING in all directions. Yes. He did. Low blow on the statue. Wood and paper sailing across the stage, a stunned silence descends on the few watchers. The body of the float shatters with the force of the impact, collapsing in on itself as the supports are entirely taken out by the careening vehicle. The head totters there for a moment held up by a prayer…and that /terrible/ tie…before it just topples over backwards, landing on top the bus before bouncing off and shattering on the roadside. The tie gets partly stuck ontop of the bus, and it seems to be dragging it.

Anyone looking backwards will see two half legs standing tall…until one wobbles milding and goes toppling right over with a whump. Eric pauses a moment, and then grins. "CONGRATULATIONS!" He blurts out. "Now…LIGHT EM UP!"

Ramon pushes the big red button, and he's…back to laughing his butt off. But it's good for him. It's probably one of the first times he has really laughed since losing Dezi and the kids. He laughs hard enough for the good kind of okay-to-have tears run down the side of his face that can still create them.

"That's one way to deal with Limpdick Logan," Peter says with a hint of a grin, actually a hint of that crazy light in his eyes for a moment. That's a nickname he's never said before, but— it seemed really appropriate, see? Because… "Oh hey, the tie is getting away," he says, standing up enough to lean out the door and he starts to use his mind to not only snatch the tie, but fold it up like a rug and pull it through the window to safety. "It's… a souvenir?" he adds on with a shrug.

"To have and to hold." Cass smiles and leans forward to kiss Lachlan when the preacher prompts Jack and Trina to do so. It's not their wedding per se, but as far as she's concerned, this is it. They're married. "For long as we both shall live." As the bus goes careening off through the President's unmentionables, she grips onto Lachlan with a both thrilled and terrified look on her face - yes it is possible. "Which, if Eric has a say in anything may not actually be that long."

"Jack!" Eric sounds oh so very serious now. He points a finger at the tie. "That goes in the trophy room."

Jack sweeps Trina into his arms and dips her low for a long, passionate smooch. It's the kind of kiss that legends are made of. The kind of kiss that puts the Princess Bride to shame. Take that, Cary Elwes!

Candy is crumbling up cookie in her hand, and as soon as she's pretty sure it's time to do it, she leaps up off Jamal's lap and throws it up in the air! HURRAY FAKE-RICE. "That was the best wedding EVER," she says, then wraps her arms around Jamal. Well. His head. Bosomhug. And also a face-grab and smooch, because he's been so well behaved!

Then, she's jogging down the swaying bus aisle to do the same to not-brother Jack once he lets Trina up for air. GRAB HEAD. APPLY BOSOMHUG. But no, she really is very happy, all squeals and pretty-crying. Because ugly-crying is right out. "And you looked so pretty~," she tells Trina, before releasing Jack to let him breathe.

Limpdick Logan? And he took the tie. Elena stares at Peter. "…………I'm SO PROUD OF YOU right now," she says with a laugh.

This is when Ramon presses the button.

The fireworks that Elena had painstakingly mounted thanks to Gene's contraption fires off. Rockets, dozens of them, up in the air just as the bus PLOWS right into Paper Maché Petrelli's crotch. They explode in bursts of color in the twilight sky. ………..but since these are the Saints, these aren't ordinary fireworks. Oh hell no. They're not just those generic bursts of color people see in the Fourth of July. Instead, these fireworks form letters. Phrases. Phrases like…









And of course…



And that's not all. When Ali broadcasts the pirate signal and slips on the CD, the familiar strains of a certain song boom across the city. It's old. It's a classic. It's an internet phenomenon. It's…

~….I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand
Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt youuuuu…~

Yes. The Saints just rickrolled Logan's parade.

There's no duct tape to make a ring this time, but that's okay. Lachlan figures they don't exactly need one. He returns the kiss happily, then holds onto Cass when the bus goes into its crash. He lets out a joyous whoop, because hot damn this is fun. Who knew marriage could be so fun? When the bus is back on its generally good course, he grabs a potato from the sack and slams it onto the bench to bust it in half. Then again into a smaller piece. Then, he uses the pistol to shoot a hole in the center, which he proceeds to carve out. Okay, so maybe he needs a ring. This is presented to Cass, but his attention turns to Peter. "Who's Logan?"

What is even better? The fact that Trina is celebrating the destruction of the Petrelli float with a middle finger prominently pointed out the windshield. Also? Bliss. Interrupted by… cookie crumbs and Candy shoving her new husband's face into her boobs. Again with the horrified staring. Two years. She's been putting up with this for two years and she still horrified by all of this. They're all insane. Positively insane.

And she just married into the insanity. FUCK.

If only she weren't busy looking at Candy with a giddy little smile, shoulders hunching up in glee. "Thank you!" Trina is a WIFE. SO FUCK YOU, GRANDMA, YOU OLD HAG, WHEREVER YOU ARE, FOR SAYING SHE NEVER WOULD BE.

That may be in Trina's brain.


"You guys have a trophy case?" Peter asks, still holding the rolled up tie that he pulled back in. He's more than willing to hand it to them. He's not about to take it with him… And yes… Limpdick Logan. At Elena's words, he smiles sheepishly, and tosses a single thought her way, before— "Logan's… the guy responsible for— a lot of this. That certainly. My brother has better taste than that." Seriously, he does. He HAS to. Even if his taste in ties left something to be desired. Oh hey, rickrolling… (What's rickrolling?) And Logan has a forever limp pisser.

"… though' yer brother was the one responsible fer all this?" Because that's certainly the guy that Lachlan almost ordered consumed alive by rats earlier in the day.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Wedding pictures! Everyone needs those. So Eric runs a red light so they can get pictures taken thanks to TRAFFIC CAMS! Gene can just hack it right off the back and steal those. Lovely pictures. Trina and Jack sucking face while Trina flips off the float, Lachlan presenting Cass with the potato ring. All the rest of them laughing like madmen.

Eric is no exception on that. "…and now!" He crows. "Back to Paradise!" Pause. "And what I mean by that is LET'S GO GET SHIT-FACED!" He says with a laugh.

Everyone knows, thats the most important part of the party.

Reaching over, Peter says, "Can I see that a minute?" about the potato ring. "Just a minute, I promise." There's something he wants to do. And should Lachlan give it to him, he will eventually turn it to gold for them both. Golden hand carved potato ring.

All the while, Peter adds, "And— it's a long story, one of those— another person inside your body things. Logan's the guy who's been calling the shots inside his body for the last two years. Remember the whole… Niki-Jessica thing?" That's the best way to describe it, even if he's not totally sure what they might have told him.

Jack smooch girl. Smooch good. Jack face in boobs? JACK NOT BREATHE! When Candy allows him to resurface he comes up cackling gleefully. "Thanks, sis. Glad you were here. I'm finally gonna settle down like you been hasslin' me to do."

Candy releases Jack, and smiles at him fondly. "I'm so happy for you," she says, then! She airkisses Trina with a little nose-wrinkle smile, then skips back down the bus. Lachlan… is SPARED a bosomhug, for now, because Candy didn't quite pick up on the fact that where were two weddings. After a quick detour to Eric to ruffle his hair, then back down, NO ONE IS SAFE from hugs and cheek-smooches of celebration, not Ramon, Cass, Lach, Peter, Elena, Ali, her son, and terrified detainees, before she finally lands back into Jamal's lap. It'd be better if Desmond were here because she's not quite willing to be dipsmooched by some other guy, even if he wouldn't care, but all the same, she cuddles with the former bartender and sighs happily. Her family is awesome.

Lachlan does indeed hand over the ring, then accepts the golden'd version back with some surprise. Then he reaches to take Cass' hand and slip it onto her finger all proper-like. Once again, however, his attention is grabbed by Peter, and he seems to pale just slightly. "Oh." Shit.

And then there's hugs and cheek-smooches from Candy, which only adds to his bewildered state. "MMFPH."

The detainees clap from where they are. Because a) this was the most insane wedding they've ever seen. b) This was the most entertaining wedding they've ever seen. And c) THEY'RE NOT IN JUST DETAINMENT anymore. So there is a hearty applause all around the bus as the two couples are called out with congratulations and the like.

Elena throws back a grin at Peter before sliding off the seat and watches Jack and everyone else in front get bosom-hugged by Candy. "YEAH!" she cries, pumping a fist at Eric's call. "LET'S GO GET SHIT-FACED!" Pause. "…except me…'cause…I can't…WHATEVER." She bounds to the front, so she could…well, first…

She leans over the driver's seat. To harass Eric, no doubt. "Eric. If Louis is cooking, I'm hungry. MUST. GO. FASTER."

And then, Candy bosomhugs her in the face. She's squashed into her chest. "….Iwafyootoocwawy…" (I love you too, Candy) is muffled against the woman's breasts.

A potato ring. Lachlan is giving her a wedding ring made out of a potato. Oh Lord. Taking it, Cass laughs and is about to slip it on her finger when Peter asks to see it. Handing it over to Lachlan to hand it over to Peter, she watches it turned into a golden potato ring. Will wonders never cease? This she gladly allows Lachlan to slip onto her finger. Peter explaining the difference between Nathan and Logan, well, that makes her pause and her gaze switches between her friend from the past and the man she now calls husband. She thought he knew the difference. Any really serious discussion they could get into it is, of course, interrupted by a bosom hug by Candy. Startled out of any sort of seriousness, she blinks at the yelling. Oh yes, a drink sounds good. A hand reaches out to take Lachlan's again, it's a party bus again.

"Your wish is my command beautiful," Eric just crans his neck around to grin up towards her. Its the first honest to goodness smile that he's had on his face in months. MONTHS and MONTHS. This little operation was exactly what he needed, it was. "Louis will have the feast ready when we get back. He's quick like that!" He adds cheerfully as he guns the engine again, roaring off into the darkness of the city.

"Next stop…" He calls. "…home."

Trina is now married. Trina… can now take over driving. Because, um. Helicopters. And nuns and priests needing safety. "Alright, Eric. Fun time's over. Give baby back to mama." And with that, she gives Jack a peck on the cheek and already starts climbing over the BACK of the seat so she can get to Eric's left side and start pushing him out of the way. HER BUS. Because she's the bus driver of this operation, dammit.

…but Eric has to give up his seat as well. He sadfaces slightly. "…well…can't deny the new bride!"

And with that he gives her a cheeky grin, and just shadow-walks right out of the seat, appearing next to Elena with a biiiiiiig grin on his face.

…home still is the next stop, its just a different person driving!


Peter hands Eric the rolled up giant tie. "For your trophy case." Something about him suddenly seems a little… petulant. "Congratulations, guys— I'm really happy for you. If you want me to turn your ring to gold to, I can try a few times, Trina…" Though hers would probably be a lot heavier. And they can discuss that when they get home.

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