Fake News: Castle Crossing

[ptahrrific]

Title: Castle Crossing
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Jon/"Stephen" (Castleverse); Jon, "Stephen", Olivia (canon 'verse)
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the Report. Names of real people are used in a fictitious context, and all dialogue, actions, and content are products of the author's imagination only.

Response to a "give me two AUs to cross over" prompt: Castleverse Jon/"Stephen" meets canon Jon/"Stephen", for kribban. Doesn't affect the main story, but if it did, it would fit chronologically before Castles in the Sand. Fictional languages transposed into real ones for crossover purposes.



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Olivia took one small step into Jon's office, and one giant leap backward as a wicked-looking sword swung up to point at her neck. "Whoa! Watch where you're aiming that thing!"

"Olivia!" exclaimed Jon. The sword, she realized, was only the beginning; he was dressed like he'd just come from a Ren Faire. "So you're here too! Wait, when did you learn to speak the language?"

"Uh, wow, Jon. That's a little racist, don't you think?"

"Sorry I'm late," said Jon, except now his voice was coming from behind her. "Got tied up in a meeting about...a...okay, what's going on here?"

That had to be the real Jon. His grey and beige looked even blander next to the doppelganger in navy blue and gold, especially since now that Olivia saw them side by side, she could tell that sword-Jon was, well, buff.

"That's what I want to know," snapped sword-Jon, now aiming the blade at grey-Jon. "For what purpose did you bring me here? And where are you keeping my Stephen? There's no point in hiding it. He's close, and confused. I can tell."

Grey-Jon held up his hands in surrender. "First of all, you can put that thing down, because it looks like you could snap me in half with your bare hands if you tried. Second, I don't know how you got here, but I'll bet it has something to do with my Stephen. Who is a couple blocks down the road, assuming he's doing his job, which is not always a safe assumption."

Sword-Jon bristled. "Don't put him down like that! Have you even thought about how it makes him feel? He's doing his best!"

"To be fair," put in Olivia, patting grey-Jon's shoulder, "he doesn't let anyone else say it without biting their heads off."

Grey-Jon shuffled uncomfortably, but it seemed to be what sword-Jon needed to hear. He lowered the blade. "Will you take me to him?"


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Stephen couldn't believe it. He had gone to all this trouble to connect with a universe that had magic duels and dragonslaying, and come out with a version of himself that spoke...French. French! How was it possible?

Clearly, Stephen had to correct his double's flaws from the ground up before they could get anything interesting done. He hadn't been able to convince the double to give up the jeweled red bracelet, despite it looking really, well, you know, but he could always come back to that after he dealt with the language issue. The double had tried to speak to him in what sounded like one of the Asian languages Stephen couldn't tell apart, then revealed a halting knowledge of English. It was a start. All Stephen had to do was work on that.

"This," he said majestically, directing his double's eyes to the object in question, "is a teleprompter. Can you say that? Te-le-prompt-er."

"Is a teleprompter," repeated the double uncertainly. "What does it do, sir?"

Stephen puffed up at the man's respectful tone. Clearly people from any universe could see that he was a force to be reckoned with. "Makes words appear, so I can read them."

"How?"

"That's not important!" cried Stephen, dragging him across the set. "And this is my desk. You know that word?"

"The Col-bert Re-port," read the double off the side.

"No, no, no! The Colbert Report."

The double looked suddenly apprehensive. "C'est Vulpin? Est-ce que nous sommes à Vulpis?"

"I told you, stop with the French! This is America."

"A-murrica," echoed the double. Then he blurted, "Where is Jon?"

"Who cares? The man is a pinko commie. Go on, say it."

"Pin-ko co--" The double's head shot up, face splitting into a brilliant grin. "Jon!"

As if one of him weren't enough, there were two Jon Stewarts walking down the center aisle of the audience banks. And the one in the fancy outfit was...oh dear. Stephen tried to surreptitiously fan himself with his tie.

His double, having no such hesitations, closed the distance in a few leaps and threw himself into Jon's double's arms. Stephen stared, aghast, as they started conversing in a rapid jumble of English and French, then turned on his own Jon. (The Jon from his universe, that is, not his—) "Do you mind? We were in the middle of something!"

"Stephen, you can't just go kidnapping people from other universes. We've talked about this."

"It's not kidnapping if the only person involved is yourself! I don't know how he got mixed up in it." Stephen jerked his head at Jon's double, then blushed: the alternate pair were now forehead to forehead, a tiny smile of anxious pleasure on other-Stephen's face while other-Jon cupped his cheek.

It was other-Jon who responded. "Probably a side effect of the soulbond. Don't you ever experience trouble like that with yours?"

Jon and Stephen stared, openmouthed.

"Ah," said other-Jon, looping his arm protectively around other-Stephen's waist while other-Stephen hugged his shoulders. "You don't have one yet."

His double frowned at Stephen. "Then how does he save you from Papa Bear?"

"All right, that's it!" yelped Stephen, as Jon struggled not to burst into giggles. "Clearly this universe is too far gone to be of any use to us. Come on, you two, back to the magic circle."

He turned on his heel and stormed off, trying not to notice how comfortable the doubles looked as they followed, still wrapped in each other's arms.