Author Note: I've been watching a lot of Ghost Adventures lately and am wondering if there's a category for it on this site because what a wicked Supernatural crossover fic that would make.

Anyway, here's another chapter. If you guys thought for one second I don't take ideas from reviews, I'll tell you right now I absolutely do, like I did with this chapter. You may want to be sitting down for the last part, or at least holding onto a solid piece of furniture.

"You're fucking what?" I said, staring at the guy, who's name was apparently Danny, my mouth hanging open in the most undignified of fashions.

"I'm Christy's brother. You know-" He gestured. "Christy. Your teammate. Arguably your best friend. The one who saved your ass in basic."

"Okay, first of all-"

Lasky physically pushed my face aside and stepped forward to stop my bitching in it's tracks. "Yes, I know of her. I've met her before. Not to the degree that Adams clearly has, but I could pick her out of a lineup. What does she have to do with this, other than being your sister?"

Danny folded his arms. "Well, I think I'll just let her explain. Come on." He motioned with his head and began to walk towards a door that was a couple feet away that seemed to lead into the building we had crash landed on top of.

"Wait, are you telling-" My half assed sentence ended in a hiss as Lasky kicked me in the shin to shut me up. He kicked me. With his bad leg. The one I'd shot. I swear to god I was only giving him ibuprofen from now on if he was feeling good enough to fuckin kick me in my goddamn shin. Maybe I'd just knock him unconscious and save us both the hassle.

I got about ten steps towards the door and got bitch slapped by a wave of nausea. "Uh, hold on-" I called out towards the two of them.

Had I hit my head when I jumped out of the Pelican? My head didn't hurt. I didn't think I had a concussion, and being a doctor, I should be able to tell if I had one.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on not barfing.

My focus failed me, and I doubled over and threw up. Like projectile vomited. It was bad.

"Adams!" Lasky's voice called out, concern in his tone. He came over and grabbed my ponytail, lifting it out of the way. I appreciated the gesture, but I was basically done with the whole thing by the time he limped over there. "You okay? What's wrong? Did you hit your head?"

I spat on the ground. "No. Maybe it's stress barf."

Lasky dropped my ponytail, in what I could only assume was disgust from his tone of voice when he said, "Stress barf? That's not even a thing. "

"Sod off, asshole."

"Consider me sodded off. We'll be over there when you can stop barfing long enough to join us."

I straightened up my six foot mutant frame and gave him a thunderous glare. He didn't see it, because he was already limping back to join Danny at the doorway.

We walked through the door and made our way down what seemed like a thousand flights of stairs that left me feeling a little queasy again. Then again, I've never really gotten along with any flight of stairs.

We ended up in what looked like a massive bunker, complete with scattered weaponry, various tanks/ships and other post-apocalyptic looking equipment. It was like a bad dystopian movie came to life and shit all over the hangar.

Off to the side of the hangar/bunker/warehouse thing was a small office, and through the window we could see two people sitting in there, arguing.

It was Karl and Christy, in the flesh, existing in their constant state of arguing. About what? Who cares? I'd stopped listening to their arguments a long time ago.

They saw us approaching through the window and immediately ceased their arguing (thank god) and came out of the office thing.

Christy let out a shriek and attached herself to my torso as I staggered to try and maintain my balance. After she'd finally let go, Karl, who was nearly as tall as I was and had grown actual physical facial hair, gave me a more normal hug.

He then stepped back and squinted at me. "Wearing the latest UNSC fall collection, I see."

I'd completely forgotten I was still in my underwear. "Something like that. I look better in it than he does, though." I said, jabbing a finger over at Lasky, trying to get the reaction I was looking for out of him.

I got the reaction I was looking for as Ewing started to turn as pink as a juicy rare steak. "I'm sure you do." He mumbled, throwing a look at the ceiling.

I widened my eyes and stared at him. "You're not going to compare? Assess the differences? Casually slide your gaze over the two of us, resting your eyes on the most important parts, feasting on the sight of us?"

Karl gave me a look that was half disgusted, half judgmental. "No thanks, eye fucking isn't one of my kinks."

"Does your boyfriend not boyfriend know that?"

"Probably not, since I haven't seen the Arbiter in a while." He shot back, with all the savagery I'd come to know and love.

I opened my mouth to throw back some serious shade but was interrupted by Christy. "Before you two start getting really gross again, don't you want to know what's up?"

I shrugged. "I assumed that you were here to tell me your goodbyes before I ended up rotting away forever in a dark, damp UNSC prison surrounded by the screams of other agonized souls who also committed treason."

"You're a fucking trip sometimes, Adams, you know that?" Christy shook her head. "No, that's not why we're here. We're here because of you."

'Well color me fifty shades of 'yeah i fucking figured as much'." I said, sarcastically, throwing her a look of disgust.

"Shut up for one second, Adams. One second."

"Good luck with that. From my experience, once you get her started, she never stops." Lasky muttered.

"I will break your fucking kneecaps, Lasky, I swear to god."

"Oh my god, we're here because we found a flawless plan to keep you from rotting away in a UNSC prison for the treason you so blatantly committed." Karl nearly shouted, clearly exasperated that the dramatic reveal kept getting interrupted.

I blinked. "What?"

How the hell could they possibly get me out of this one? There was no way. I'd fucked up my young life beyond repair with this one. I was a dead girl walking, mostly because if I did somehow make it out of this without going to prison, my mother would kill me herself. Destroy the last living heir to the bloodline of Kal 'Nradaman. Suffocate me with a pillow, so I died slowly, telling me I was experiencing the kind of pain and suffering my stupidity caused her.

Christy gestured at me. "Sit down, all of you. You're going to need to for this."

I sat down on the nearest piece of vaguely dystopian equipment, Christy grabbed a chair, Karl found himself another piece of dystopian equipment, and Lasky joined him on it. Karl looked thrilled, especially when Lasky settled his arm on the back of the thing they were sitting on.

"I look better than her in this fall collection, right?" Lasky asked Karl in a low voice.

"Oh, definitely. So much better." Karl said, a little too eagerly.

"Down, boy." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Okay, so." Christy leaned back, settling in for what would probably be the story of a lifetime, and most likely the biggest bowl of bullshit I'd ever hear. "We found out about that little plan you'd concocted with the Chief and that Vale bitch who's always trying to steal you from me."

"No she's not, I'm pretty sure she actually hates me."

"Shut up." Christy shot me a glare. "Anyway, how we found out isn't really important, but-"

"We found out because your raging jealousy caused you to stalk Adams to the bar and drag me with you, and after we waited for her to leave and then you basically threatened the bartender into telling you what the conversation was about."

"Okay, literally no one asked for your input, Karl. As I was saying, after we found out, we decided that you were probably going to commit treason by taking Lasky hostage so I got Fred to talk to Roland and tell him what was going to happen."

"Wait, so he knew? He knew? You mean Adams shot me in the leg for no damn reason?" Lasky went to go stand up in his little fit of rage, but Karl grabbed his arm.

"Okay, in my defense, I didn't know about all this shit that was going on behind my back, so just know I shot you with the best intentions." I told him.

"The best-" Lasky didnt get to finish his yelp of outrage because Karl slapped a hand over his mouth, then yelped as Lasky apparently bit his hand. Damn, it was getting pretty kinky over there. I was almost jealous. Thel never let me bite him. Granted, that could have been because of my penchant to use my teeth to make up for my lack of size whenever he was forced to practice fighting with me, but that was entirely beside the point.

"So Roland contacted me directly, and we devised a devious plan. The plan was as follows:" Christy cleared her throat. "Roland convinces you to take Lasky off the ship. He drops you onto a decidedly rebel planet that ensures UNSC forces won't come after you because it'll start a huge fucking war if they do and, honestly, you're not really worth all that."

Excuse you, bitch. Who says I'm not worth a war? I'd like to think there were several people who'd start wars over me.

"How did you guys know I was going to do what I did?" I demanded, folding my arms. How had anyone seen that coming? I thought my plan of treason was ingenious because no one would be expecting me to commit treason.

"Please. Karl and I can read you and your stupidity like a book. If anyone here knows the playbook of Adams' dumbfuckery by heart, it's Karl and I. Don't insult me." Christy snorted.

I started to respond, but she cut me off. "I requested leave for a family emergency, and Karl was already on leave, which is why he was available to get dragged on the trip to follow you around." Christy shrugged. "I figured me faking the reason I asked for leave would be the least terrible thing that we'd done, so. And it's not like the UNSC is going to come to Terra IV to knock on my parents' front door to ask how my mom's illness is going. Anyway, my leave got approved thanks to some pressure from Fred, who had a suspicion I was up to something that helped you, and since your distraction helped him and the Chief out, he was more than willing to pull some strings to get me that leave. Karl and I got here yesterday."

Karl waved helpfully at me.

"I told Danny to tell his network to keep an eye out for your ship. Lucky for us, your ship happened to show up at his warehouse. Which worked out well for us."

I held up a hand. "Uh...Network?" I threw a look over at Danny, who was leaning on a concrete support beam.

"Yeah, I have a network of people on this planet." He shrugged. "They need me, so they do what I ask."

"Uh...and what, exactly, is the service you provide for them that makes them need you?" Lasky asked, sounding concerned.

"I'm a drug dealer." Danny said, calmly.

"You're a fucking what?" I demanded, staring at him.

The side of Danny's mouth lifted into a grin. "I'm kidding." He shifted his position on the support beam. "I'm an explosives smuggler. Took over the family business from my dad." He inclined his head towards Christy. "She's the family baby, the one who got out of this ugly business. The business of making and selling explosives, specifically."

I gaped at Christy. "Your family makes and sells explosives?"

She shot me a disgusted look. "You think I joined the UNSC as an explosive technician because I came from a family of woodworkers or what?"

I considered this. "Fair point."

"Thank you. Now, if I could continue?" Christy asked, shooting glances at everyone. We all shut up accordingly. Myself included, because I wanted to know where this wild plan of hers ended and then ask more questions about the Godfather family of explosives.

"Together, Karl, Danny and I-"

Danny held up a hand. "No, just Danny. You and him were throwing out the dumbest shit I've heard in this lifetime. This plan was my idea."

Good god. Danny was like a human version of Thel with less fucks to give.

"Okay, thanks for that clarification I don't remember asking for." Christy practically growled. "Anyway, the plan is this: You and Lasky were talking about the Chief thing on the bridge when Roland picked up a UNSC distress call. It was me, having been found out as a UNSC soldier, and being threatened by rebels on this planet. Because I'm your friend, you charged out saying you were going to rescue me, and Lasky had to come with you because he was positive you were going to get yourself killed and if he just let you get yourself killed, it would seriously damage human-Sangheili interplanetary relations." Christy leaned back. "You, Kasey, tried to land the Pelican on the top of the warehouse, but because you absolutely fucking suck at flying anything, you crashed it. Somehow you two made it out alive and managed to get me safely back to my family. Roland's falsified some files to back up your story, he'll spin the same story I told you, and once you two call for a ride home and feign ignorance, the UNSC will have no choice other than to accept the explanation or be forced to admit the fact that they not only lost Blue Team for a second time, but that a doctor was able to take the Captain of the Infinity with ease." She smirked. "High Com is sure as hell not going to do that."

"So...we're being saved by a few good cover stories that can't be proved or disproved either way and the bureaucratic weakness of an inability to admit mistakes?" I asked, squinting at her.

"Exactly." Christy jabbed a finger at me.

"The other part of the plan is that after you crashed, I met you two here, we weaponized ourselves and went to rescue Christy." He nodded a head towards Ewing. "And he ended up here wanting to help support Christy in her time of need, which was an incredibly well timed coincidence, considering he helped us rescue her."

"Okay, but how do we explain the underwear thing?" I demanded.

"Dude, I don't fucking know. You're on your own for that one. Not even I could have planned for that weird contingency." Danny said, putting his hands up.

Lasky sighed.

"Okay. All done?" Danny asked, straightening up off of his position against the support beam, glancing at Christy.

"Yes, I'm done." She said, standing up.

"Good." Danny faced Lasky and I. "Here's what's going to happen. You two are going to put on all that gear and go stand against that wall." He gestured to a pile of what looked like some kickass guerilla fighting fashion, then pointed at a wall a few feet from the office thing.

Lasky and I obeyed, quickly donning the gear.

"And then what?"

"Then we're going to shoot you."

"You're fucking WHAT?"

Well, my whole day had just been wild from start to finish. I'd lied to my lover, committed treason, stripped down to my underwear, been in a Pelican crash, covered up the treason, gotten shot and was now being ushered into the large mansion of people who ran an entire planet wide explosives trade monopoly. And my day wasn't even fucking done yet.

Danny opened the front door to the huge fucking house that had like a thousand windows and just oozed "very rich explosives smuggling people live here" from all the swooping arches and flying buttresses or whatever the fuck all that shit was called.

"Mom?" He called out, slowly stepping inside. "Is it okay to come in?"

I squinted at Christy. "What, did they forget to turn off the home security system minefield in the foyer?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Wait, are you serious?"

I heard Karl choke on a laugh and decided she wasn't serious. At least, I hoped she wasn't serious. You know what? I was just going to follow Danny's lead on this whole thing. The last thing I wanted to do was make an assumption around people who played with explosives for a living. The only reason I made assumptions around Christy was because the UNSC heavily regulated her explosives playtime, but here in the wild west of Terra IV, there was no one to keep anybody from putting C4 in their grandmother's antique vase or wherever rich people put their C4.

"Danny? Is that you?" A voice called out from inside the impressive house, a voice that was warm, motherly and inviting. A vocal manifestation of still warm, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. The opposite of my mother's voice, which was the vocal manifestation of a gruesome homicide.

The woman that appeared, wiping her hands on a dish towel, was a tall woman with salt and pepper hair, a face that was pleasantly beautiful, an older, more gentle looking version of Christy with warm brown eyes. "Oh, goodness. You brought the guests sooner than I thought you would." She gestured at us. "Come in, come in."

She ushered us in, pausing to look over Lasky and I. "Goodness. You two look like you've seen better days."

"Oh, you have no idea. A half hour ago, I was in my underwear." I said, holding out my hand.

She gripped it firmly and shook my hand. "You must be Khase 'Nradaman, or Kasey Adams, or whatever it is you're going by these days."

"Well, your daughter calls me 'you disgusting piece of space garbage', but Kasey is just fine."

She laughed, a high, clear, tinkling laugh. "Goodness, she wasn't exaggerating about the sharp wit."

I went to respond, then slapped a hand over my mouth. The nausea was back.

"Dear, are you alright?"

And that was the moment where I turned and threw up straight into their perfectly manicured flowerbed. Nice.

The woman, who I had guessed by now was Christy's mother, grabbed my shoulders and pushed me inside.

"What's wrong?" Christy demanded, rushing up to my side, upon noticing I had the distinct demeanor I'd carried many nights during basic training after we'd befriended that kid who knew how to make moonshine out of anything. In case anyone was wondering, moonshine made of grass clippings is absolute shit and you'd probably be better off drinking gasoline, or mouth wash or literally anything other than lawn based alcohol.

"Stress barf." I choked out.

"That's not really a thing." Karl said from across the room.

"That's what I said." Lasky told him.

Christy brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "No, seriously. You don't get sick. What's wrong?"

Christy's mom sat me down in a chair and bent down to look at me. "She's not sick, Christina."

"Uh, Mrs. Jamison, what do you mean she's not sick? She looks like she's about to die." Karl said, sounding worried.

"Please, Karl. Call me Beverly, as I've told you to many times." Mrs. Jamison said, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Uh, sure. Mrs. Beverly, she looks pretty bad for someone who's not sick." Karl said, fucking up again.

Mrs. Jamison seemed to accept it, though, taking a good look at me. "Oh, she's fine. Just a little bout of nausea. Happens to the best of us." She gave me a smile that seemed like she had just found out I had a secret. God, that was terrifying. Which secret? I had so many. I still had that energy sword I'd taken from Thel. Not on me, obviously, since I'd showed up on this planet in my barely there's, but it was still solidly in my position. The secret that I routinely used that staple gun I'd been explicitly forbidden to use? Or maybe the secret that I thought my mom's new Sangheili boyfriend was more boring than a three day old piece of bread? I really needed to cut down on the number of secrets.

"I mean, if you're sure." Christy said, still eyeing me with concern.

"Oh, I'm sure." Mrs. Jamison said breezily. "She'll be alright."

"But like, how do you know?" Karl asked, sounding totally unconvinced.

Mrs. Jamison turned and smiled at him. "Oh, I'm old enough to know a few things, dear. You can trust me on this one."

The nausea had faded to the point that it wasn't an urgent issue, but I still gagged a little bit when Mrs. Jamison suggested everyone move into the dining room for dinner.

I was just about to steel myself to walk in the same vicinity as food when Mrs. Jamison grabbed my shoulder. "I think you should use the bathroom. It's on the third floor. The second door on the right. The staircase is right over there." She pointed, and I saw the staircase, with all its grand deep red carpetry.

I took a step to go do as she said, feeling slightly confused as to why she'd been so specific about using a bathroom on the third floor when she lowered her voice even further. "You'll want something out of the cabinet under the sink. It's right there in front, you can't miss it."

I squinted at her. "Uh. Thanks?"

She smiled at me and entered the dining room with the rest of the crew.

I shook my head and climbed the stairway, which was absolutely fucking huge and way too long for my liking. Like I said before, bad relationship with stairs. I hated them and they hated me more.

I found the tiny bathroom, closed the door and locked it, then knelt down in front of the sink and opened the cabinet doors.

Yeah, no. Fuck that. Fuck that sixty fucking ways to the seventh circle of hell. File that under "shit I don't want to know" and then set it on fire. No fucking way.

I slammed the cabinet doors and leapt to my feet, fumbled with the lock, threw open the door and absolutely fucking collided with Karl.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded, grabbing the doorframe to steady my ungodly mutant frame.

"Mrs. Beverly sent me up here to make sure you did what she told you to." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why are you losing your shit? What did she tell you to do? Cut up a dead body and flush it down the toilet?"

"What? No, something way worse than that."

"What could possibly worse than dismembering a corpse into indoor plumbing friendly pieces?"

I motioned at him to follow me into the bathroom and threw open the cabinet. "You tell me."

His eyes went wide as he saw what was in there, and he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. He looked up at me, in vague horror, then held up a finger. He opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out.

"Yeah, see?" I said, giving him the 'i told you so' look.

"Why-why-um-uh...are you?" He asked, his voice sounding shrill.

I looked up at the ceiling. "I mean, it's not impossible?"

"Would it..." He stopped and waved his hands. "I don't even want to ask because it sounds terrible."

"I know what you're trying to ask, and no. Or yes, depending on how you ask it." I said, squinting at him.

Karl frowned, still staring at what was under the cabinet. "One way to find out the truth." He looked up at me. "Do it."

"No. Absolutely fucking not. No way in hell."

"Okay, that's not an option. Get in there and stop being a little bitch." Karl shoved me back into the bathroom and closed the door.

I picked up one of the boxes from under the cabinet and stared at it, making a noise of agony.

"Don't be a little bitch, Adams!" Karl yelled from outside the door.

Far be it from me to be a little bitch. I did what I had to. It took some maneuvering, but I got it done. Now it was a waiting game.

I stepped out of the bathroom and stood next to Karl and we both stared at it, waiting. Waiting for what seemed like an absolute fucking eternity. Just sitting there, waiting.

And then the results flashed onto the small screen.

I threw it away from me like it was on fire and let out an ungodly noise.

"Oh my god." Karl said, staring at me in shock and disbelief. "Kasey, you're pregnant."