Expect the Unexpected. Part One: Chapter One.

How often does one fake death? What could compel someone to do it? How does one know if the trick was just a cruel kidnapping of a person, but made the victim actually wish they were dead?

These were just some of the questions that ran through Buckaroo's head.

When he'd found out that Peggy might not be dead, he was in a total state of shock. He'd seen her dead body- or at least he thought he did. But he wasn't the only one; Mrs. Johnson, Rawhide, Perfect Tommy- they all saw her. The image of her supposed dead body would always be fresh in their minds. Her blonde hair tousled about, her face lifeless and absent of any emotion, her body stiff and cold.

He'd only wished that she'd actually end up being still alive.

But now that wish was coming true. How could it? Was it actually possible?

He wasn't sure if he hoped it was true or not.

-/-/-

Buckaroo and his band of Cavaliers had all mourned greatly over the death of their beloved Peggy- but when they found out she might still be alive? At first, everyone was in a state of pure shock? Once the thought had set down into their minds, that's when they all put their heads together and began to look and search all over the world for her. They had to search all over, since her original death had been caused by Hanoi Xan. That meant she could've been anywhere.

One of those anywhere searches nearly got Buckaroo killed.

But, three and a half years after Peggy's death, Rawhide had been leading a project in the deserts of Asia, along with Reno, Pecos and Billy Travers. One night while travelling on horseback, the first three heard their names being called out by someone in the near distance. They all followed the voice, wary of who or what they might find. They eventually tracked down the owner of the voice, three of them looking at them with wide eyes and dropped jaws, the other giving a confused look.

Standing in front of them, a mix of fear and relief written all over her face, was Margaret "Peggy" Simpson Banzai. She was thinner, paler, and she looked like she'd gone through hell and back- but there was no denying that it was Peggy.

At first, the group of four had no idea what to do. Once it clicked that Peggy stood before them, they took her to a nearby hospital, since she looked hurt. She was eventually brought to a hospital in New Jersey in America, just as precaution and to make sure she was fine to go out and about. While in the New Jersey hospital, her parents- John and Rosemarie- were contacted by Rawhide, partly for DNA tests to make sure it in fact was Peggy, and not some trick by Xan.

Once all was confirmed that it was the Peggy, all they had to do was pick her up.

-/-/-

Mrs. Johnson had lost her best friend that day. That day in the fall of 1981 was supposed to be a happy day. But when she found her best friend dead in her wedding dress, all she could think to do was to get everyone. She remembered crying and screaming, and that she was physically and emotionally unable to speak.

She felt the way she did when Flyboy died. First her husband, then her best friend. She felt sick for three days after it all.

But most of all, she felt bad for her boss and friend. She knew what it was like to lose a spouse at such at such a young age, so she had an idea of how he felt. While their deaths were under different circumstances, the hurt and grief over the loss of a spouse was the same.

That's why she knew he needed to go with the rest to get Peggy from the hospital.

-/-/-

Buckaroo Banzai sat behind the desk in his office. His right elbow leaned on his desk, and he cradled his forehead in his right hand. In his left hand and spread all over the desk, were photos and journals. Each picture had Peggy in it, and the journals were the ones he "wrote to her in" to help deal with the grief of her death over the years.

"I don't understand," he mumbled, looking over the newspaper and magazines on the table next to him.

On each magazine and newspaper was an article or cover about the situation. There were pictures and short interviews, both old ones and new ones. It was on the news. People all over were following what was going on through the media. Sure, people did that anyway for the group of scientists and their band- but it was different this time. This was a personal matter.

Buckaroo looked up when a knock came from the other side of the wooden doors. One of the double doors creaked open and Mrs. Johnson's head poked through. He granted her access to the room, in which she walked in, closing the door behind her, then sitting in front of the desk to face him.

"We're, uh," Mrs. Johnson began, "We're gonna go down to the hospital to get Peggy. Me, Rawhide and Pecos."

Buckaroo nodded in understanding. "Alright," he said in a near whisper.

"The three of us think you need to come, too."

"I don't know if I'll be able to handle it…"

"You're not alone on that, you know."

"It's different for the rest of you," Buckaroo claimed, running his hands over his face, "You all loved Peggy a different way than I did. Than I do."

"It's not different than how I felt and still feel about my husband," Mrs. Johnson argued.

He looked up at the younger woman, not expecting her to say what she said. "Mrs. Johnson…"

"Can't you see how lucky you are? Hundreds, thousands of people lose a spouse every day. Not everyone gets a chance to be with that person again- but you are. Please, just appreciate the opportunity you've been given to be with Peggy again."

Buckaroo thought over what she said for a moment. "You're right," he nodded, "You're right."

"You thought otherwise?" Mrs. Johnson laughed, "Now come on. Let's all get going."

-/-/-

Buckaroo, Mrs. Johnson, Rawhide, and Pecos all walked out of the elevator and onto the floor they were told to go to. Photographers and newscasters tried to follow them up, but hospital security held them back and made them leave unless they were sick or hurt. One security officer followed the four up, both for precaution and safety. He remained by the elevator while the group all walked to the nearest desk.

"Excuse me?" Rawhide tried to the woman behind the desk.

The woman looked up at him. "Yes, can I help you?" she asked.

"My name is Rawhide. I'm from the Banzai Institute. I spoke with someone on the phone about Margaret Simpson Banzai."

"Ah, yes. Who's Mrs. Banzai being released to?"

"Me," Buckaroo answered a bit uneasily, "I'm her husband."

The woman nodded. "Ok… and what's your full name?"

Before anyone could answer, a gentle, feminine voice called out, "Buckaroo?"

Buckaroo- along with the three others- turned to the familiar voice about fifty feet to the right. When they all looked, there stood Peggy, clad in clean clothes, obviously from the hospital. The two stood at opposite ends of the corridor, staring at each other with happy disbelief. The two began to go as fast as they were allowed toward one another, only stopping when they caught and held the other in their arms.

Peggy jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Buckaroo hugged her tight against his torso, his arms secure around her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and his shoulder, and he buried his face in her hair. He spun around for a moment, both from the impact and from joy.

She finally set her legs down on the floor, but kept her arms around his neck, and he kept his arms around her torso. She looked up at him with tear stained cheeks, and he looked down at her with teary eyes. He ran a hand gently through her hair.

"You're really alive," Buckaroo stated softly, "You're here, you're alive."

Peggy nodded and blinked back tears. "I'm really alive," she confirmed, "I'm here, I'm alive."

"I'm so sorry I didn't keep you safe that day…"

"I don't care. I'm here with you, and that's the safest place I'll ever be."

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to see you just one more time."

"Trust me, I do. And I have no intentions of leaving you again," Peggy smiled up at him.

Buckaroo looked down at her fondly. "Good, cause I have no intentions of letting you go, my Queen of the Netherlands."

This story may or may not be continued…