beanside | Fic: *Nsync: Making the Evil Plot

Title: *NSync: Making the Evil Plot 1/2
Rating: C for Crack.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. Parody, actually, to be exact. so yeah, didn't happen.
Notes: This one's for Ivy and all my other popslashers who are still down about the election.

Daniel quickly found that as terrifying as their plots for world domination could be, NSync having fun was far more frightening. Chris went on everything with a single-minded intensity that bordered on compulsive, dragging an occasionally terrified looking Justin. Joey spent the afternoon flirting with the girl at the cotton candy stand, and JC went into a near-trance, listening to the music from the old fashioned calliope.

Lance spent the time on a handheld PC and his cell phone, causing several parents to give him dirty looks as he cursed one of their suppliers out roundly whist near the teacups.

After a turn on the water rides, Joey changed shirts, and soon after, they were asked to leave.

"What's wrong with it?" he asks belligerently, looking down at the design. "I could have worn the "I don't masturbate" shirt.

"Joey….." Lance sighs softly, and just hands him a different shirt.

Joey smiles sweetly before tugging on the new one, a bright red one that informs all and sundry that he is, in fact, a qualified sex instructor.

It's nearly four before they leave, piling into the van and heading down the mountain. Daniel stiffens as they turn away from Mount Serenity. "Where are we going?"

"SkyNet," Lance says quietly.

The building for SkyNet Technologies was as imposing as expected, a glass and steel monolith rising towards the sky. Lance glances at it and nods. "Okay, are we all ready?"

They all nod, pulling on various high tech equipment, and black ski masks. "Okay, Chris, do your thing," Lance murmurs. "C, you're at the east entrance."

Chris and Joey hurry out of the van, various equipment slung over their shoulders, and dash for the front door as JC melts into the night, heading around the building. Lance sighs. "There actually isn't an east entrance, but it keeps JC out of trouble. He's got a nasty tendency to mow down everything in his path, and I'd like a low body count on this operation."

Daniel nods sagely. "I see."

"Justin, how's the communications stuff going?" Lance glances to the back of the van, where Justin seems to be engrossed in playing with his Playstation2 controller.

"Almost there."

Daniel moves to watch him, blinking as he notices the complicated tangle of wires and circuitry on the screen. "You can do it like that?"

Justin nods, pressing the buttons in a rapid-fire pattern. Abruptly, the computer equipment in the van comes to life. "Got it!" He moves over to the computer screen, and begins to tap in information. "We're in, yo."

"Mad props," Lance drawls. "Chris, you in position?"

"We're here. Are we clear?"

"That is affirmative. Go. I'm right behind you." Lance glances at Daniel. "You're welcome to come along, if you'd like."

Daniel spares another glance towards the computer, where Justin's happily navigating another complex circuit, and nods, following the blonde out of the van. "I'm kind of surprised that he can do all that," he says, voice in a low undertone.

"Attach a PlayStation controller to it, and Justin can do anything. Chris, too." Lance leads the way from the van up to the large glass doors. "But Chris has other talents." He nods to Chris and Joey. "Whenever you're ready."

"Reading?" Chris asks.

"High F, sharp," Joey replies, offering him a microphone as he punches in some numbers on an odd looking box.

"Shit. Tough one." He takes the microphone and nods. "Set it."

With a few quick movements, Joey unrolls microphone cord, attaching it to the box. "Locking down," he mutters, using a small lever to suction the box to the glass. "Set."

"Cover your ears," Lance advises, crouching down with his hands over his ears.

Daniel follows his lead quickly as Chris raises the microphone.

"Fire in the hole!" A moment later, an unearthly wail resounds through the night. It rises in pitch, as the light on the box goes steadily from green to yellow to orange, and finally to red.

With a sharp noise, the window simply shatters, tiny shards falling to carpet the entrance.

"Holy shit," Daniel mutters.

"Nice work," Lance compliments Chris. "Very impressive spiderweb pattern."

Chris shrugs. "I've been practicing."

"It shows. So, are we ready?"

They nod, and Lance strides into the facility, machine gun at the ready. "According to intel, it's on the third floor of the west wing, so we start in the east wing."

Daniel blinks. "Um-"

"We sent Igor on reconnaissance," Joey explains.

"Oh. Isn't that kind of pointless?" Daniel asks hesitantly.

"On one hand, yes. I mean, we're not getting any real info out of it. But on the other hand, it gives Igor a feeling of accomplishment, of being a valued team player instead of just a henchman," Joey says.

"It's that kind of thing that keeps you from being sold out by your lackeys when the hero arrives," Lance says sagely as he strides down the hallway. "Put on your banshees," he instructs.

"What?"

Lance smiles as he adjusts a microphone over his head. "Something we came up with a while back. Translates sonic energy into a disabling concussive force." He shakes his head as Daniel asks another question, and plugs it into the small uzi-like gun at his side. "You'll see. Just remember to stay behind us."

As they near the corner, the sound of guns being cocked resounds through the hallway. "Chris?"

With a smirk, Chris lays the Uzi on the floor and pulls the trigger back, locking it into the "fire" position.

Lance nods. "We're throwing down our weapons, don't shoot." He and Joey quickly lock their triggers.

In unison, they slide the three guns out, cords still attached to their headsets. Lance nods, holding up three fingers.

Then, two.

Then, one.

Then, again in unison, they open their mouths, each singing a single note that lasts for a count of eight.

They pull back the weapons, quickly flipping the locks off. Chris pokes his head around the hallway. "They're out."

Lance smiles. "Good. Keep moving."

To Daniel's utter shock, the guards are all unconscious, weapons strewn on the ground. "What happened?"

"We sang," Chris says, as though it's obvious.

"Personally, I prefer to do things this way," Lance says, stepping carefully over the insensate guards. "I mean, if we start killing the guards, it's going to be much harder to carry out our evil plot with the police showing up every five minutes. Plus, really, blood is such a bitch to get out of the laundry." He pauses as his earphone crackles. "Yeah, go ahead, Justin. Really? Cool. Thanks. Justin's into their security system. He says that the antimatter is on the second floor, right above us."

Joey points towards the stairs. "Shall we, then?"

"I believe so. Chris, you're on point." Lance pauses and blinks. "Crap. We'd better pick up the pace. JC's mowing down mannequins in the Macy's window down the street. Police are bound to be on their way."

He hurries up the stairs, cursing JC under his breath. "Justin, go scoop him up and meet us at the back door. We'll be out in five. And be careful not to get shot."

"Last time C went on a rampage, Lance was picking buckshot out of his ass for days," Chris confides.

"That's what I got for giving him the shotgun and telling him to cover me," Lance mutters, opening the door to the second floor and dropping into a crouch. "Clear."

Chris moves into the hallway, sweeping left and right. "Clear."

Lance nods. "Which door was it, Jup?"

Joey tilts his head, and nods. "I'm on it." He pulls out a lockpick and crouches down.

"No time," Lance says. "Kick it."

"Shouldn't you-" Chris starts.

"We don't have time, Chris." Lance sets his feet, and kicks out, his heel slamming into the door just above the lock.

It barely moves. "Fuck. That's a strong one."

"Lance," Chris says.

"Hang on, Kirkpatrick. I'm busy." He kicks again and again, to no avail. "Fuck."

"Lance!" Chris yells.

"What?"

Chris reaches over and turns the knob. The door opens soundlessly, revealing a chamber behind it. "That."

"I hate you so much right now."

Chris grins. "Nothin' but love, man."

They fan out around the tiny roiling piece of antimatter, staring at it. It's resting in a small containment field, sparking in an azure aura around it.

"Think it's got a battery back-up?" Joey asks.

"I'm pretty sure of it. Otherwise, they'd blow up the block every time the power flickered," Chris points out.

"Oh. Yeah."

Lance studies it for a moment. "Jup, you there? Any thoughts on how to pick this thing up without fucking with the containment?" He pauses. "Uh-huh. Yeah. Got it."

He reaches down, pulling the plug from the wall. "Joey. Hand me that bowling ball bag."

Joey picks it up, and passes it over. "Hey, it doesn't have a bottom!"

"Exactly." It slides perfectly over the sphere, locking into place. "There we go. Let's get out of here."

They dash down the stairs, Lance following gingerly, holding the bag carefully upright. The headset crackles ominously and he curses, leveling the sonic gun with one hand. "Justin says we've got incoming!"

A sharp blast of gunfire shatters the night. "Fuck. JC's on it."

They walk out, to find Justin holding the door of the van, while JC stands next to him, holding the gun at his hip. It's barrel is trained on three guards who are laying facedown on the ground, hands clutched behind their heads.

"Everything good?" Lance asks, breathless.

"Did I see your head come up, motherfucker?" JC snarls. "I said to eat the asphalt! Do you want your brains to see daylight?"

The guard mutters something that's probably a no.

"Then fucking keep your head down! Or do you think I won't do it?" JC walks over, nudging the guard with his toe. "Do you think the pansy-ass dancing monkey won't pull the trigger?"

"C!" Lance says sharply. "Let's move!"

"You're lucky today, you little maggot. Don't forget it." With a sharp burst of gunfire above their heads, he ducks into the van. "Move out!"

Lance carefully sits the bowling ball bag on the floor in the front seat of the van. "What happened, C? I thought you were going in from the east?"

JC lays his gun down, smiling his thanks as Joey scoops it up to unload and clean. "I was, but then, there was this guy, across the street, eyeballing me. You just can't let that kind of insolence go."

Justin rolls his eyes and mouths 'mannequin.'

"Good job," Lance murmurs.

"Thanks!" JC preens in his seat for a moment. "I try."

Daniel's eyes widen. "Is this normal?"

"Hmm?"

"Is he always that…bloodthirsty?"

JC shrugs. "I'm an artist. A lot of people don't understand that."

Lance pats his shoulder fondly. "You're the best, C."

"So, now that we've got the power, when are we going to enact our evil plot?" Joey asked.

"I was thinking about tomorrow, but then I remembered that I've got to have my teeth whitened. So how about Saturday?" Lance asks.

"Sounds good."

"Plus, it'll give us a little time to position the You-Know-What© for optimal coverage. I think our best bet will be the peak of Mt. Doom."

"Wait, not Mt. Serenity?" Justin blinks, looking fetchingly confused. "That's whack."

"Nah. We'll hit more people if we go with Doom. Besides, I don't want to draw people to our lair," Lance says reasonably.

"Oh. Cool, yo."

Lance glances at their erstwhile reporter, Daniel. "So, do you want to cover the unveiling of our evil plot, or just the lead up?"

"Um. I was thinking of covering both, but we'll make the second one a primetime special, if that works for you? It's almost Valentine's day, so we'll let America's Evil Pop Sweethearts© strut their stuff in an all new special! The commercial blocks'll go for a fortune!"

Lance nods. "I like it. So, anywhere we can drop you?"

Daniel nods again. "The station would be good. I need to get to work on the footage. I'll see you on Saturday, though. Make sure to have your lighting crew check in with my camera crew. We'll want to make this look good."

"Will do."

And so, the curtain is drawn over the final bits of plotting for America's Evil Pop Sweethearts© latest plan, but our story will resume for the *NSync Valentine's Day Special!