Permission to archive at the ftp site, fkfanfic.com, and fkfanfic2

Author's note: Several months before War 11 was announced, I had an
idea that I thought would be perfect for a fanfic war. Then War 11's
premise was announced and I realized that it would have to wait.
Rather than wait 'til the next war, I figured I should introduce it
now.

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Title: Aftermath (01/01)
By Emma Lighton

   They were all gone.

   Vachon looked around the church with a relieved sigh as the last of
the motorcycles roared off into the distance. While he did miss them,
he didn't miss the chaos that came with their arrival. If only the
the Vaqueras would show up when there wasn't a war going on, he'd
have more time to hang out with them.

   He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of peace and quiet. Or
possibly a pine cleaner, he wasn't sure. He looked around the overly
clean church with a sorrowful look. It just wasn't the same without
the cobwebs, dust, and wax drippings.

   That reminded him, he really should replace some of the candles. He
made his way to the storage closets, now neatly organized and
labeled, and pulled open the one marked 'Bibles-cottonballs.' As he
reached to pick up a box of candles, something on the floor caught
his eye.

   Vachon knelt beside it for a better look. He couldn't recall the
last time he saw a piece of heavy artillery, but here was one sitting
in his humble abode. With a shrug, he pulled it out for a closer
look.

   It was smaller than any he remembered seeing before. Kinda cute,
really. On the side he found the letters FK engraved in the metal. It
had two large wheels and what appeared to be a hitch on the back.
Looking back in the closet, Vachon failed to see any sign of ammo for
it.

   "I always wondered what would happen if you fired an unloaded one."
He muttered at the world in general. Errand forgotten, he dragged the
his new toy back to the church's main room and hunted up some
matches.

   He aimed it carefully at his least favorite window, lit the fuse,
and silently hoped that being immortal was enough protection. When
the fuse reached the base, there was a large flash of bright light
and what seemed to be an annoyed voice.

   "The church was never this clean." The voice declared.

   When he could see again, Vachon picked himself off the floor and
looked around. He blinked a couple of times, shook his head, and
looked again. The cobwebs, the dust, the drippings, they were all
back where they belonged.

   "A canon cannon." He grinned. This could be a lot of fun.

The End
-- 
elighton@bestweb.net
Vaquera * DPheretic * T+Vpack * FKMac-er Head mouse clicker
Survivor of Wars 9+10
"Ecce Macdonaldus Senex, qui fundum habet. E-I-E-I-O."-Grunt
http://members.tripod.com/~lostshadows/main.html