Chapter Text
Bonanza: Evolution
-a joint crossover by Katja (Bonanza) and Haruka (X-Men: Evolution)
--
Professor Charles Xavier, mentor of the superhero group of mutants known as the X-Men, regarded the assembled teenagers and instructors with a smile. "Attention, everyone. Forge has come by with a new device that I think will prove interesting. Forge?"
The teenage genius inventor called Forge stepped forward, holding a round metal object with handles extending from both sides. "Hey," said Scott Summers, aka Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, "that looks like your other devices -- the one that took you to Middleverse and the one that got rid of the monsters at the dance."
"The outward design is the same," the handsome Indian boy said, "but the way it works is a little different. This one is a time machine!"
"Are you crazy, man?!" demanded Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler. He moved tentatively over to Forge and his device. "Fooling around with a time machine when you already got stuck in Middleverse for twenty years?!" His three-foot long prehensile tail twitched as he studied the metal object warily. "Not
to mention MY getting trapped there!"
"Aw Kurt, you don't have to worry!" Forge grinned. "There are a lot of new failsafe features in this one. Primarily, if you go somewhere, there's a backup feature that will automatically bring you home after a set amount of time."
The short, muscular X-Man called Logan (Wolverine to his enemies) folded his arms. "You sure this thing is going to work?"
"Sure enough that I'm about to take a test run!" Forge answered.
"You can't go alone, it might be dangerous," Logan said. "I'll go with you."
"Far out!" Forge smiled, reverting to the seventies jargon that he lived with for twenty years. "How about we go back to the year you were born then?" He started to punch a key sequence into the device. "When was that, anyway?"
Logan told him and Forge gave a low whistle. "Wow, you're … 139 years old?! That's some healing factor you've got!"
"You sure you want to go that far back?" Logan asked. "It was a rough time then without the modern luxuries."
"Well, we're not going to stay long, only an hour," Forge said, punching more buttons on the device. "Then we'll automatically be brought back here. But we can leave even sooner if we want to just by punching in the correct sequence."
"Okay," Logan said. "So let's go. Back off, you two. See you all in an hour or less."
Scott and Kurt obediently moved back so they wouldn't get in the way.
"We're ready, right on!" Forge said and programmed the device and turned it around, holding it at arm's length in front of he and Logan. It made a whirring noise that grew louder, then a bright light flashed.
--
Logan and Forge hit the ground hard, and Forge dropped the time machine upon impact. It clattered a few feet away, but appeared unharmed.
"Ohhh," he groaned, trying to sit up. "I had no idea we'd transport in mid-air like that -- sorry, Logan." He looked toward the other mutant, who didn't look any worse for wear.
"It's okay, kid, I'm tough," Logan said, standing up and reaching down to offer Forge a hand, which he accepted. "YOU okay?"
"Yeah, just banged my arm, that's why I dropped the machine," Forge got to his feet.
"Mein Gott, where am I?!"
Both Logan and Forge spun around to see Kurt perched atop a fence behind them. On the inside lay Scott, who pushed himself up on all fours and shook his head.
"How did you two get here?!" Logan demanded.
"We were about six feet behind you," Scott said, using the fence to pull himself up. "I guess your device had a longer reach than you thought, Forge."
The Indian teen looked distressed. "Gosh, I'm sorry, you guys!"
Kurt pointed one of his two fingers at him. "NEXT time you demonstrate anything, I'll watch from another room!"
"Since we're here," Scott said, resting his folded arms on the fence beside where Kurt was perched, "where IS here? Did we really go back in time?"
"Look around," Logan said. "What do YOU think?"
The boys surveyed their surroundings. They appeared to be on a ranch of some kind. There were horses in the corral where Scott was standing, and an old-fashioned wagon nearby. None of them could see anything resembling a telephone poll or electrical wires, but there was an impressive ranch house, barn, and a couple of smaller structures the boys didn't recognize. And land -- lots of land, as far as they could see.
"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Kurt joked.
"Well, we might just BE in Kansas," Forge said. "But Kansas 139 years ago! The device will tell us exactly where we ended up." He turned toward where his invention had fallen, stopping dead. "Hey, where'd the time machine go?!" he cried.
--
"Aw, come on, Adam, could ya please SAY something?"
For the past half hour Adam Cartwright had been riding in deadly silence next to his younger brother Little Joe. He was not in the mood to talk to the boy, he'd leave that to their Pa.
"Please,.come on, it weren't that bad. I hardly ever touched him."
Adam's head snapped up. "He was bleeding! Look, Pa told you what would happen if you got in one more fight and I am not going to cover for you. You'll just have to pay the price, little brother."
Little Joe lowered his head. He knew what Pa had said, but was still hoping for a way out. "Please, Adam, I didn't even start the fight, he just jumped me. I can't help it if'n I'm a better fighter. Please, I promise I won't do it again. Ya can even pound on me yerself." He gave his brother his best imitation of a puppy-look.
Adam raised his eyebrows. "Don't tempt me, boy, I might just do that." Then he sighed, if Joe had really been jumped he couldn't really help it. "Okay, I won't tell Pa and I'm sure your opponent won't be complaining to anyone knowing his parents." Seeing the relief on Little Joe's face he quickly added: "But you'll be doing my chores tomorrow."
"That ain't..." He suddenly stopped talking. He pointed towards the corral. "Look!"
"What?" Then Adam saw it too. There were people at the corral. He was a bit surprised. "I thought no one was supposed to be working at the corral today. Strange. Come on, Joe, let's have a look."
As they got nearer they noticed four strangers, a man and three boys, without horses or bags. Actually without anything and dressed very strangely. They seemed very out of place. Adam decided to be cautious, but hospitable, as Pa would expect from him.
"Well, hi there, strangers, can we help you? You're on Cartwright land here."
Fortunately for Kurt, Logan had smelled the strangers approaching and gave him just enough warning to switch on the image inducer that made him look human. Then he hopped down off the fence. He and the others studied the newcomers, noticing their old-fashioned clothing. Scott was suddenly very grateful that he and the others weren't in uniform -- their regular clothes would look odd enough to these people, let alone form-fitting bodysuits.
Logan shot the boys a look that clearly said, "Let me handle this" and turned to nod at the two young men. "Name's Logan," he said. "The boys are Scott, Kurt, and Forge. Sorry about trespassin' on your land -- we sorta arrived here unexpectedly."
"And we've lost something," the Indian teen spoke up. "It's metallic, about this big -- " He held his hands apart to indicate the size. "And it's very, very critical that we find it!"
"We don't mind people passing through. After all, it's such a big spread that going around it would take days. Just no open fire and no rustling. That's all we ask. I'm Adam Cartwright and this scamp here is my younger brother Joseph, but we call him Little Joe. But if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your horses?" He suddenly had a thought. "You didn't get robbed, did you?"
Little Joe was much more interested in something else and while Adam was talking he bombarded Forge with questions of his own. "Hey! Yer an Indian. How come ya ain't dressed like one? An' what is it that yer lookin' fer? Where did ya lose it?"
He could have gone on longer, but Adam silenced him by putting his hands on his shoulder.
"Give them a chance to answer our questions first, little buddy."
Forge was a little taken aback by Little Joe, especially at having someone just blurt out that he was an Indian like that. He could tell that the boy meant no malice by it, but although he'd been the victim of the teasing in school that befalls anyone 'different' from the norm, most people tried to be so PC back home that it usually never came up. And if it did, it was out of genuine curiosity, not prejudice. He found himself wondering just how Little Joe thought he SHOULD be dressed.
"Um," he looked uncertainly at Logan, who nodded.
"You can answer them, kid," he said. "May as well be honest, even if they don't believe it."
"Well," Forge said slowly, "we don't have horses because we traveled here through the power of an invention of mine that we've lost -- it's a ... um ... time machine."
"We're from Bayville, in New York," Logan continued. "The year 2002."
"I guess that's why I don't look ... like you'd expect me to," Forge concluded. "Things are different now ... um, then ... uh ...."
Little Joe's mouth dropped open. "Really?" was all he could manage.
Adam just looked at them suspiciously.
"A time machine? 2002? Well, if you don't want to tell us what happened, that's fine, but don't try to sell us a load of nonsense. And Joe, close your mouth!"
Before any of the strangers could say a word, Little Joe punched his brother on the arm.
"But Adam! Look at them, even I can tell they're not from around here. Look at their clothes. An' you're sposed to be the smart one. An' if what they says's the truth, ya can't send them away. Where'd they go to?"
"We aren't even sure WHEN this is," Logan told them. "We were shooting for 1863. And I don't think this is Bayville."
"If you'll just help us find my device, we can get off your land and not bother you anymore," Forge suggested, looking around, wondering where the time machine might have gotten to.
Scott heard something behind him that sounded like a snort. He glanced over his shoulder to find a large horse pawing the ground and looking straight at him.
Then it charged, and he remembered that he was still standing inside the corral.
--
End of part 1
No characters here are ours.
(2002)
This fic is not to be reposted
Emails: Katja ([email protected]) and Haruka ([email protected])