This was written during the whole 'Who's the Spin-Off Girl Going to be' controversy. I guessed Alex Raven, and got it wrong. Never mind.

The sign carved over the great, stone arch was half hidden in the darkness, and Alex Raven paused in front of it uncertainly, looking up at the darkly shadowed castle beyond. This had to be the place. Overhead dark storm clouds rolled by. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the dense, dripping pine forest that choked the valley below. In the distance, something howled. Alex shuddered, then pulled herself together. This was ridiculous.

'Are you a spin-off girl or a mouse?' she asked herself in disgust. There was rescuing to be done.

She raised a fist to hammer on the gate and demand entrance. At the same moment, the heavy wrought iron creaked slowly open in front of her.

'Very melodramatic.' she muttered sourly.

As if in answer to her words, a bolt of lightning struck nearby, illuminating the words carved above the door in its brief and brilliant glare.

'Dungeons of fanfic - slash division'

Alex sighed. It was going to be one of *those*.

************

The rumours had been vague at first. Methos, the world's oldest immortal, was still alive, but trapped and a helpless prisoner. She had followed the thin trail of hearsay and gossip to Seacouver and to the nearby city of Cascade. There she had found that others who might have given her information had gone missing too. Paris had proven a more fertile hunting ground, although it had been strangely empty of Duncan MacLeod and the trail of dead immortals that he left behind him wherever he went. An informant at a bar called Maurice's had given her the first concrete lead - a lead that had eventually led her to this godforsaken place, deep in the hills of (for some strange reason) New Jersey.

The hulking guard who stood outside the shiny metal doors flicked his cigarette stub aside and frowned forbiddingly as Alex approached. Alex had already made her decision. She would use reason and persuade them to let her in. Then, when she had found out whether the ancient one was a prisoner within, she would decide what action to take.

'Name.' the guard asked, with a bored expression on his pockmarked face.

'My name is Alex Raven.' Alex told him coldly. 'I demand to be taken to whoever's in charge.'

The guard looked down at his clipboard and looked up at her suspiciously.

'You're kind of early, aren't you?'

'Early? What do you mean?' Alex asked, mystified.

'You're not due here for a few more months. The powers that be haven't even sorted you out a perky female sidekick yet.'

Alex blinked. 'I'm going to get a perky female sidekick?'

'Yeah. You've watched Xena. You know the type. No, wait a minute. I get it.' A slow leer spread across his face. 'You're here for a crossover, aren't you? Is it going to be that Scully? Phwoarr!'

Alex gave up. *Screw reason,* she thought. She hadn't spent the best part of twenty centuries honing her martial arts prowess so she could be sexually harassed by some Neanderthal. Three minutes later the gate guard was flat on his back, dead to the world and stripped of everything bar his Tweety-pie boxer shorts. Alex looked down at him with some satisfaction and adjusted her borrowed armour. It fit surprisingly snugly, considering that its previous owner had the physique of Sylvester Stallone on a twenty doughnut a day habit. The neckline was somehow a lot lower than she remembered, but Alex dismissed it as an irrelevancy. She had work to do.

'OK,' she said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. 'We do it the sneaky way, then.'

The silvered door slid silently open at her touch to reveal a long corridor of cells. Alex moved down it with a silent grace born of long practice. Each cell had a surveillance monitor outside and a nameplate on the door. Hearing conversation, Alex stopped beside the cell whose plate read 'Sandburg and Ellison.' The two occupants, dressed in hospital gowns, were arguing over what appeared to be a lengthy script. She flipped the intercom switch and listened in. The conversation was mystifying.

'Ok, Blair, let's go through it again,' the tall man with 'Ellison' on his name badge said wearily. 'You say "Jim, you are my moon and stars. I will love you until the end of time and beyond and nothing in the world will ever make me leave your side again."'

The shorter, curly haired man gave him a tired look from where he lay back on one of the uncomfortable looking bunk beds.

'Jim, do you think that any guy, at any time during the history of the universe, has ever actually said anything that corny?'

'I don't write 'em Chief.' Jim said, with a shrug. 'Anyway, it's all right for you. I've got to burst into tears in a minute. How am I supposed to explain that one to the guys back at the precinct?'

'Hold on a minute. Why do you burst into tears? We're guys! Most guys I know wouldn't burst into tears if you shot their dog and threatened to pull their toenails out.'

Alex heard Jim let out a weary breath. 'I hear our song on the radio, Chief.'

'And I suppose we get the lyrics too?' Blair asked dryly.

Jim nodded. "Why do birds, suddenly appear, every time, you are near?" he quoted morosely. "Just like me, they want to be, close to you."

'That is just *so* cheesy!' Blair complained.

'Yeah. Tell me about it.'

'So do we get back together?'

'Not until after you overdose on tranquillisers and I find you on the floor of the apartment, and then I burst into tears again and I rush you to hospital and spent days by your bedside until you regain consciousness when I swear I'll never leave your side.'

'What, again?' Blair said in disgust. He looked down at his script. 'So it's now you give me the teddy bear?'

'No, Chief. It's a puppy in this one, but you get to wear a teddy bear costume later.'

'You know, Jim, I think I preferred it when those evil drug dealer guys were beating us with iron bars.'

There was the sound of a couple of pages being turned over.

'Actually, it's funny you should say that, Chief...'

Alex had heard enough. It was obvious that these two had been locked up for a reason - that or their captivity had unbalanced their minds. Still, maybe they could help her find the one she sought before it was too late for him too. She pushed the button on the intercom.

'Excuse me, guys.' she said. The conversation stopped abruptly. 'Can either of you tell me where I can find a man called Methos?'

'Uh yeah,' Blair said uncertainly. 'He's working today. Straight through the big doors at the end of the corridor.'

'Thanks.' Alex said. So the old one was here after all. Surely this was too easy? She continued purposefully down the corridor.

*************

The room at the end was more like a warehouse or a Hollywood studio than a dungeon. A woman wearing jeans, a sweater and a baseball cap bearing the legend 'Dungeon Mistress' seemed to be nominally in charge. The room was crowded with people, and the DM was attempting to impose some sort of order with a megaphone.

'Ok. Supporting characters? Time for your roll call. Do we have any evil, sadistic bastards from Methos's dim and distant past? Ok guys and girls, no need to crowd. Just line up over there by the buffet. All righty. Do we have any tough yet wise and beautiful female acquaintances whose resemblance to the authors in question is, like, totally coincidental? Yeah, right, ladies. You ain't fooling anyone in those costumes. Are the horsemen out of makeup yet? What's that? Kronos has disembowelled the make-up girl for running out of eyeliner? Again? That's the third one this week!'

'What's going on?' Alex asked one of the extras standing morosely in one corner, leather jacket pulled tightly around him.

'They're just getting things organised. These authors, they just write anything they feel like. Never think about the logistics at this end, oh no.'

Alex gestured towards where the DM was consulting her clipboard.

'So she's in charge here?'

'Someone has to be. Not what you were expecting, huh?'

'Somehow I thought she'd be wearing more leather.' Alex admitted.

'Nah. She's a composite. Married, kids, house in the suburbs, white collar job...'

'And this is what she does for kicks?' Alex asked in disbelief.

'What can I say? It's a strange, sick world. Me, I just work here.'

'So what are you here for?' Alex asked.

The extra brightened noticeably at the question.

'Me? I'm trying out for a couple of parts. I'm pretty experienced at this. Maybe you've seen some of my stuff? I started out in Star Trek doing red ensign duty. Ok, so I was horribly mangled by a parasitic shape-shifting energy field in the first thirty seconds, but it was valuable experience. I think it helped me get my next job. You must have caught that one. I was an imperial stormtrooper in the Star Wars trilogy. Man, don't let those Ewoks fool you, they may look cute but they're vicious little bastards.' He frowned. 'Actually, that was kind of a short role too, come to think of it.'

'So what are you trying out for?' Alex asked.

'I'm either going to be Duncan's old buddy from the past who turns up on his doorstep or if I don't get that, the sadistic bastard's evil sidekick. You know, I think this could finally be the role that takes off.'

'Well, good luck.' Alex said politely. 'I'm looking for Methos. Have you seen him?'

'I think that's him over there. Just follow the trail of beer bottle caps.'

'Isn't it kind of early for beer?'

'What can I say? The guy's a slob.'

**********

Methos was slouched on a battered couch, within easy reach of a large, old fashioned fridge. As Alex watched he tossed a beer bottle over his shoulder onto an ever-growing pile, then smoothly pulled the fridge open and flipped the top off another beer. He looked up as the DM approached, consulting her clipboard and muttering to herself. Alex followed at a distance, making herself as inconspicuous as possible.

'So what's on the line-up today?' Methos asked hopefully, pulling himself into a slightly more upright position. 'A bit of light-hearted romping with kilt boy? Some mild BDSM? Consensual spanking on the floor of the dojo? Shopping? Hazelnut flavoured cafe latte? Restful walks in the country? Exotic island holidays?'

His face fell slightly as the DM shook her head.

'C'mon, Methos. You know Methogrrl's been quiet lately.'

'Yeah, but I like her stuff.' Methos protested. 'Hey, I know. That Tribal Rituals girl. She's pretty good. I get to stay in nice hotels, make out with the Dunkster at the football game...'

'Duncan's not working with you today. He's got a flashback and a couple of Mary-Sues he said he wanted to get over with.'

'I know.' Methos said, snapping his fingers. 'Hurt/comfort with Joe. Bit of angst, bit of cuddling, nice for a change of pace...'

'Sorry. Guess again.'

Hope was obviously fading fast, but Methos pressed on regardless.

'Not... not Richie? Ok, so he's not the most popular pairing out but he's a nice kid... The leather, the motorbikes, the mentor thing - hey, works for some people.'

The look on the Dungeon Mistress's face was enough to disabuse him of that notion.

'Connor?' he asked, in a small, helpless voice.

'Look, Methos, I'm sorry, but... but I'm afraid Maygra's in again today.'

Methos buried his head in his hands.

'Oh good. The angst maiden. You know, if I'd actually been through everything these women write for me I'd be a bloody basket case by now.'

'It's your ability to survive anything they throw at you they respect, Methos,' the DM said reasonably.

'Yeah, but what do I get out of it?' Methos snapped back. 'I can't even look forward to a future where I live happily ever after! With Maygra all I've got to look forward to is being buried alive under rubble for three years sometime around 2150!'

'Hey, c'mon, it's not all that bad.' the DM said encouragingly. 'Once you get that over with you've got a couple of fun Star Trek crossovers to look forward to.'

'Well whoop-de-doo. I'd prefer my gratification a little sooner than the twenty-fifth century, thank you very much.'

'You know, it may not be that bad. Maygra has been known to turn her hand to sex and shopping.'

'Yeah. One sex and shopping series in a body of work that's longer than War and Peace. Forgive me if I don't get my hopes up too high.'

'You know, Methos, I think you're misjudging Maygra. This is probably going to turn out to be a nice, straightforward little PWP.'

A boiler-suited woman with "minion" stencilled across her back stepped up beside them

'Excuse me. Are you Methos?'

'Yeah.' Methos said warily. 'What if I am?'

'Sorry to interrupt. I've just got to get some measurements for the manacles.'

'Great.' Methos muttered, rolling his eyes. 'Just tell me I get some lube this time.'

'Well, I suppose you could call it lube...' the woman said, rather dubiously. She looped her tape-measure around his wrists and noted down some measurements.

'Don't tell me.' Methos said. 'If you can't buy it in a pharmacy, I just don't want to know about it.'

'Well it said on the label "available at all good pet stores and larger home improvement retailers".' the minion said absently. She looked up to find both Methos and the DM glaring at her.

'You're not helping here, honey,' the DM growled.

'Well excuse me for trying to be informative.'

'Listen, toots,' the DM grated. 'It wouldn't take a lot at this point to make me cast you as Methos's old girlfriend, the one he really loved. You know what happens to them.'

The minion paled visibly. 'Uh... right. I'll just go and see if there are... um.. any floors that need sweeping, or something.'

'So what else have we got today?' Methos asked, without much optimism, as the minion fled across the warehouse.

'There's some routine horsemen-related angst.' the DM said encouragingly. 'You're good at that.'

'That's original.' Methos muttered darkly. 'When are these people going to give me a break? You slip up just the one time, spend a measly twenty or thirty centuries raping and pillaging your way across three continents and you never get to hear the end of it. I suppose the guys are in?'

'Kronos, Silas and Caspian? Yeah. They're doing flashback duty.'

'God I hate flashbacks.' Methos muttered sourly. 'Why can't I have flashbacks like Duncan? Spends the whole time acting like Errol bloody Flynn. He *fights* the bad guys, he *rescues* the girl, he shows off his legs in that skimpy kilt...'

'You never minded the skimpy kilt before now.' the DM reminded him.

'I never get to see the skimpy kilt.' Methos protested. 'He doesn't wear it any more. As far as I can work out he hasn't worn it since 1948.'

'You could suggest a kilt challenge.' the DM said.

Yeah.' Methos said sourly. 'Like they'd take up one of my suggestions as a challenge. That would be too much fun. They've got to spend their time on stuff like..' he paused, and pulled a crumpled list out of his pocket. 'Here it is. A pool table, an answering machine, a tricycle. A scale model of the Eiffel Tower? I can just guess where that's going to end up. An electric belt sander with satin-covered belt...?' his voice drifted off incredulously.

'It's not that bad.' the DM encouraged. 'Look! They've got a six pack of beer on the list too.'

'Yeah. Generic. Why couldn't it be imported?'

He took a long swallow from his bottle while the DM looked on in disapproval.

'Isn't it kind of early for that?'

'Maygra's in.' Methos said sourly. 'Think of it as... anaesthetic.'

'You are in a bad mood today.' the DM said, shaking her head as she looked at her sullen charge.

'So shoot me.' Methos said. 'If you don't I expect somebody else will before the day is out.'

The DM sighed. 'Ok, I was going to keep this as a surprise but I may as well tell you now. Mulder's coming in this afternoon.'

'Mulder?'

'Yeah. You like Mulder.'

Methos nodded. 'He's the only one in here who has a worse time than I do. There's a whole website out there dedicated to torturing the poor bastard. So I'm down for a crossover, am I?'

'That's right. It's a PWP...' the DM said, with the air of someone offering a small child a sweet.

'He does have a nice nose...' Methos said.

'Well then, there you are.'

'Maybe we could compare angsts.' Methos mused happily.

The DM's attention was drawn by a sudden commotion from across the warehouse. She sighed.

'Duty calls. I'd better go and see what the problem is *this* time. Jeez, I'm gone for two minutes...' Muttering to herself, she left.

In the shadows Alex tensed. Was this the time to show herself to the old one at last? It seemed impossible that he wouldn't want to escape from this place of torture and perversion. But no. From across the warehouse a huge man in armour was approaching - the mighty axe he bore made him a fearsome-looking opponent. Discretion being the better part of valour, Alex decided to stay hidden and continue to watch...

'Hail, brother.' Silas said.

'Hey, Silas.' Methos greeted him. 'What's the delay?'

'Kronos disembowelled the caterer for not putting enough chocolate powder on his cappuccino,' Silas said, with a shrug of his mighty shoulders.

'Again?'

'Yes, brother. It's taking him a long time to get ready this morning.'

'I hope you and Caspian are keeping yourselves entertained.'

'Someone left a magazine behind, brother. We're doing the Cosmo quiz.' His broad brow furrowed. 'Tell me, brother, which Spice Girl do you think I am the most like?'

Methos choked into his beer, but recovered well.'Which one do you think, Silas?'

'Caspian says Baby Spice, but I like the dark-skinned one with the curly hair. She is a feisty one. Say, brother, you don't suppose...'

'A Horsemen/Spice Girls crossover?' Methos mused, completing the thought. 'I think that fight would be a little uneven, Silas. The horsemen are armed only with swords and axes. The Spice Girls have entertainment industry lawyers.'

'You're right, brother,' Silas said regretfully. 'That is too frightening an enemy, even for Kronos.'

'Plus, I think one of them has one of those boomerang things, like Xena.'

Silas sighed. 'Ah well, it was a good thought. I'd better get back to learning my lines.'

'Did you get more to say this time?'

'"Hail, Brother!"' Silas bellowed.

Methos nodded approvingly. 'Yes? And?'

'That's by way of being the whole thing.' Silas said with a shrug.

'Not very much.' Methos commented.

'It's better than Caspian. All he gets to do this time around is eat a cockroach.'

'He must be used to that by now.'

'I'm not certain, brother. He keeps asking what his motivation is.'

Methos sighed.'Can't help him on that one.'

'Then I'll say farewell, for now, brother. I see you have another guest.'

Alex tensed in the shadows (again). Had she been spotted? But no. The visitor that walked towards Methos was a young man, with perfect teeth, wide green eyes, a leather jacket and dark, slicked-back hair. Methos frowned as he approached.

'Are you Krycek or Cory today?'

Krycek flapped the empty arm of his leather jacket regretfully.

'Take a seat.' Methos said, gesturing towards an empty beer crate. 'You here for the crossover?'

'Yeah. This afternoon. Just thought I'd come over and say hi. Mulder's kind of busy at the moment.'

'Scully?'

Krycek snorted. 'He wishes. Some sicko wrote a Mulder/Lone Gunmen piece.'

Methos shook his head incredulously. 'I thought I had it bad. Poor kid.'

'The worst thing is, they're using *my* handcuffs. I'm never going to be able to look at those handcuffs again without thinking...' he trailed off into a shudder.

'Don't dwell on it.' Methos advised. 'You want a beer?'

'Got any vodka? I think this afternoon's going to be painful.'

'Why's that?'

'They usually are.'

'We sleeping together?' Methos asked. He waved to another passing minion. 'Excuse me. Bottle of Stolichnaya over here for Krycek, please.'

'I think it's you and Mulder again.' Krycek said, with a shrug.

'I could ask and see if we could fit you into a threesome.' Methos suggested politely. Krycek took the bottle of vodka the minion offered him on a silver tray, ignoring the tiny shot glass that stood beside it. He took a large swig directly from the bottle.

'Thanks but no thanks. Somehow I always end up in the middle of those. You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm sick of sex. That eggbeater challenge...' he winced and shifted uncomfortably in the director's chair.

'Tell me about it. They've got an unusual objects/unusual places one coming up for me on ROG-L.'

'Good luck, buddy,' Krycek said, with feeling. 'You don't know the meaning of the phrase "loss of dignity" until you're tied over the back of a camel getting more intimate with a banana than anyone in their right mind would ever want to be.'

'That happened to you?' Methos asked incredulously.

Krycek shook his head. 'Not yet. But the way things are going I figure it's only a matter of time. Some of those fanfic writers are seriously out of touch with reality.'

'Well get this. In this challenge they've somehow got to work in the word "loganamnosis"'

'What the hell does that mean?'

'Can't remember.' Methos said. His brow furrowed. 'That's really going to bug me now.'

'Well, I'm sorry,' Krycek said, 'But I think your lot have lost it this time.'

'Sometimes I don't think they ever had it in the first place.' Methos said moodily.

Krycek sighed. 'Well, I gotta go.'

'Anything good on this morning?'

'Nah. I just get to watch from hiding while Mulder and Skinner go at it like rabbits. *Again*. Not that I'm complaining. Any day when I don't get one of my extremities hacked off is a good day for me at the moment.'

'Sounds like you better keep hold of that vodka. See you this afternoon.'

Watching him leave, Alex decided that her moment had come. Stepping out of the shadows, she approached the man who was her ultimate goal. Seeing her, Methos quirked a questioning eyebrow.

'I'm Alex.' Alex said. 'Alex Raven? The spin-off girl?'

'Hey.' Methos said. 'Grab a beer.' He gestured towards the fridge that stood to one side of his chair.

'Is drinking beer all you think about?' Alex demanded angrily.

'Pretty much.' Methos admitted.

Alex looked at him more closely, and frowned.

'Say, haven't we met before?'

'I wouldn't be at all surprised.' Methos said wearily. 'I expect I pillaged your village or you used to be my old girlfriend or something. Let's leave that one for the guys at Rysher to sort out. I'd hate to start messing with canon at this early stage. Look at Richie. They killed him off in part one of an end of series cliff-hanger and every Richie fan that ever there was started writing alternative universes where the kid survived. Now the poor kid doesn't know if he's dead or not from one minute to the next.'

He waved to where a leather-clad figure sat morosely on the ground beside a motorcycle. Even from that distance a line of staples could clearly be seen around Richie's neck.

'Is he dead?' Alex asked.

'He got a montage.' Methos said, with a shrug. 'He ain't coming back from that. So, you're here for a preview, I guess. The shape of things to come.'

'Oh no.' Alex said, with deadly certainty. 'I've seen what they do to you guys. I'd rather die than be a prisoner in this place.'

'Sorry, kid.' Methos said cheerfully, flipping the top off another beer. 'It's inevitable. You better make the most of your last months of freedom.'

Behind them there was the sound of someone politely clearing her throat. Alex spun round, grimly preparing to fight for her life. Thus she was surprised to see the redhead who led the little group of women facing her raising a placating hand.

'Alex? Alex Raven?' the redhead asked hesitantly. 'I'm Scully. We just thought we'd introduce ourselves. This is Amanda - you'll be getting to know her better pretty soon. Xena and Gabrielle you've probably run into sometime in the past...'

'I don't think so.' Alex said with a frown.

'Do you want to bet money on that?' Amanda asked hopefully.

Alex straightened and looked back at the group defiantly.

'Well I'm telling you now, I want no part of this place. I've seen what goes on in here.'

Amanda looked down at her perfect nails.

'Honey, you don't get it. It's different for girls.'

'Look,' Scully said reasonably. 'Let us show you around. Then decide.'

An hour later, Alex was lounging in a silken negligee while Amanda lovingly manicured her left hand and Scully gave her a slow, lingering foot massage. Gabrielle selected a chocolate from the Belgian fresh cream selection on the marble table beside the couch and passed it to her.

'So you're saying that the luxury health club and spa facilities, the all day lobster and champagne buffet and the ensuite five star hotel rooms are all included in the package?' Alex asked disbelievingly.

'Uh-huh.' Xena said lazily, from where she lounged in the Jacuzzi. 'Of course you've got to put up with the occasional M/F/F scenarios, but we think it's worth it.'

'And you say guys write this stuff?'

'As far as we can work out.' Scully said. 'Our best guess is that they're using us to get in touch with their feminine sides by creating non-dominant, pleasure-oriented sexual situations where there's no need to prove their masculinity.'

Alex sniffed the air suspiciously. 'Say, is somebody using strawberry scented hair conditioner?'

'That would be me.' Scully said. 'I wouldn't bother but Marita says she likes it.'

'And you say I'm going to get a perky female sidekick just like Gabrielle?'

'You got it.' Amanda said brightly. 'So what do you say?'

Alex felt a slow, contented smile spread across her face.

'I say see you in a couple of months, girls.' she said happily.

NB: "loganamnosis" is the challenge word meaning to be obsessed about not being able to remember what a word is. Well, it was close, anyway...