Verne felt almost like James Bond as both he and his brother crawled out their bedroom window and made their way carefully across the mildly sloping roof, to a tree that was convienently placed an arm's length from the gutter. Sneaking out this way had been Jules' idea -- "If we go out the back door, Martin is going to ask questions" -- but Verne didn't mind much. There was something about this operation he and his brother were venturing upon that made him feel just like an action hero in the movies he liked.

"This is so cool," he whispered as Jules tested the support of the aged oak tree before leaving the relative safety of the roof. The older boy shot the younger a firm look.

"Don't speak, Verne," he hissed. "It's too dangerous right now! Windows might be open downstairs."

A valid concern, Verne had to admit. It had been a really warm day. Before they had left, however, Verne had gone downstairs to check on what Marty was doing, and had noticed the teen was still studying, headphones clipped on his ears. Even from the doorway, Verne could hear the distinct, tinny sounds of music that leaked out of the headphone speakers. Marty didn't even notice he was being watched, his attention focused on whatever he was reading as he tapped a pencil against the book in time to the music.

Verne highly doubted, therefore, that Marty would be able to hear any noise they made, but decided it was better safe than sorry and kept his comments to himself as Jules hoisted himself into the tree and started the downward climb. Verne followed only when his brother was on the ground safely and had given the signal that all was clear. Jules waited for his brother to join him on the ground before heading cautiously for the large barn several hundred yards away.

"Stay away from the windows," Jules whispered as they walked as quietly as they could through their yard. Verne nodded, unable to resist a glance at the house as they walked away from it. Most of the windows on the first floor were illuminated, with the shades and curtains still open. The kitchen and dining room were at the back of the house, though the barn could be seen from the side windows of the living room, on the south side of the house. It was always possible Marty could've gone in the kitchen for a snack and was looking out the window over the sink, though Verne saw no one through any of the windows at the moment.

The barn was reached a minute later, and Jules headed for the north side of the structure -- which happened to be the side most visible from the back of the house. It couldn't be helped, however, for this was the part of the building that had exactly what Verne's brother needed to gain undetected entrance into the lab.

Jules set his backpack down on the grass and knelt next to the metal electrical outlet that Doc Brown had installed, on the chance that he would need to use electricity outside the building. In Verne's opinion, it was a kind of stupid idea; he'd never seen his dad need the outlet before, but their father had put a lot of strange things in the house and barn when the remolding had taken place during the fall of 1985. Some, like the railroad tracks in the cellar, had been explained early on. Others, like this plug outlet, still had no clear reason for being around.

Jules flicked open the metal coverings that protected the outlet from the elements and opened his backpack up, where he had brought a few small items from their house. Verne watched as he pulled out some odd-looking contraptions that looked vaguely familiar to him.

"What's that stuff?" he asked, whispering the queary.

"Some of Father's inventions that didn't quite work," Jules answered. "He gives me the rejects when I ask, and I like to collect the items to see if I can use some of the parts on my own creations."

"Okay..." Verne said. "So what are they doing out here?"

Jules smiled rather mischieviously, the expression instantly transforming his normally serious face. Verne blinked at the sight, stunned to see how much the look made him seem more his age. He looked, Verne realized with a touch of amazement, normal -- like a normal eleven-year-old who liked arcades, biking, and the occasional prank instead of one who favored computers, science, and strange experiments.

"These two inventions have one thing in common, one fault which caused our father to discard them," Jules explained softly. "They both overloaded the power supply and triggered the circuit breakers. Therefore, by plugging both into the outlet at the same time and turning them on to full power, we should successfully overload the power supply that is granted for this portion of the buildingif not the entire structure."

Verne seemed to recall a flaw with Jules' idea now, one he had neglected to bring up when his sibling had outlined the idea for him in their room. "Won't that get into the house, too?" he asked. "Remember last summer when Dad did that with that one thing? The holo-something projector?"

"Holographic projector," Jules corrected. "And yes, I remember. But I think this won't have the same effect. The reason that everything blew last summer was because it created a tremendous drain on the entire power supply for our household. The entire fuse box shorted out -- remember? This should just click the breakers for the lab over. I think."

"What if it doesn't?" Verne asked.

Jules frowned, looking a little irritated. "Don't be so pessimistic, Verne."

"I'm not being pessimistic, I just want to make sure this doesn't blow up in our face -- and I mean that, too," Verne added, a new angle suddenly appearing to him. "You know Dad's failed inventions."

"I know," Jules said. "But if I remember right, these didn't blow up...exactly." He edged away a few inches, a move that didn't comfort Verne. He followed his brother's example, prudently putting more distance from the electronic gizmos than his elder sibling.

"What did these used to be, anyway?" Verne couldn't help asking as Jules connected both of the plugs to the sockets.

"I'm not sure, but I think they were preliminary creations and drafts of the holographic projection system that Father eventually perfected and built into the time machines," Jules said. "I know one of the early problems had to do with the power supply." He paused, a look of sudden unease sliding across his face. "Maybe you should stand further away, Verne."

Verne didn't hesitate at all in backing away from the defective inventions. Jules stood, backed up a few steps himself, then leaned over to turn the gadgets on. Even in the dim light, Verne could see his brother's face, scrunched up as if he was ancipating something to really blow up. Verne didn't feel very confident with Jules' assurance that neither invention would self-destruct.

Jules switched the devices on and scrambled backwards in a hurry, nearly slamming right into Verne who was standing quite a respectable distance away. Verne watched the outlet and the gadgets, his hand hovering near his face and ready to cover it if something went wrong. He held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Verne turned to his brother next to him. "I thought you said this would blow out the power," he said.

Jules frowned. "It should....unless there's a short between the switch and power supply." He shrugged, then took a step forward. "It's possible"

A high-pitched whining noise started then, right from the inventions. Jules halted in his tracks. The noise built steadily in pitch and volume until Verne had both his hands clasped tightly over his ears in an effort to shut it out. It muffled it, only slightly, and made him worry that even Marty would be able to hear it through his headphones and music.

A brilliant flash of light spat out from the electrical outlets, followed by an impressive shower of sparks. The inventions started to smoke. Jules took a step forward, decided it was a bad idea, then skipped back. Flames suddenly sparked out of both inventions. Verne gasped, his hands falling down to his sides.

"Jules!" he cried. His brother hesitated, then started to run to the fire. Verne followed, knowing the danger if the flames spread and started to burn the lab as well. Jules picked up his backpack, now empty, and started to beat the flames with it.

"Verne, unplug them!" Jules yelled.

"What if I get electrocuted?" Verne shot back immediately, not entirely trusting his brother on the matter.

"You shouldn't -- the plug cords are insulated. Just do it!"

Verne took a deep breath, reached down, and yanked both the cords hard out of the wall. He let them drop to the ground as if they were poisonous snakes, backing quickly away as Jules continued to beat the flaming inventions.

After a couple minutes, the fires were snuffed out. Jules let his backpack drop to the ground, coughing faintly from the dust and smoke stirred up as he knelt down to examine the blackened electronics.

"Well," he said after a moment of silence. "It could have been worse."

Verne rolled his eyes, having his own opinion of the matter. "I guess," he said. "Are those things all the way busted now?"

Jules nodded, standing up. "Yes, they're quite dead."

Verne ran around to the window set in the wall of the barn-lab, jumping up and down a few times to see inside the building. He couldn't see any lights on inside, though a glance at the house told him that structure was still lit. "Did it work?" he asked, still uncertain.

Jules joined him at the window and stood on his toes, able to raise his eyes just above the bottom of the window. "I believe so," he reported, pleased. "I can't see any of the security lights running that Father usually has remain on all the time."

Verne glanced over at the house again, nervous. "Do you think Marty heard that noise?"

Jules frowned. "It's possible. We should get inside now, or at least out of view of the farmhouse. If Martin looks outside and doesn't see anything unusual, I don't think he will investigate further."

The suggestion sounded smart to Verne, but he continued to be concerned with something else. "What if he checks up on us?" he asked as Jules grabbed both blackened inventions by their cords and dragged them back to the treeline.

"Even if he does, we should be back fairly soon," Jules said as he tossed the devices into the trees and brush, branches snapping in the wake. "Don't worry."

Verne went over that for a moment in his head, then shrugged and followed his brother as he headed to the lab. Marty'd had his music up pretty loud; maybe he wouldn't have even heard the noise, or else would think it was part of whatever he was listening to. Anyway, they would be back in the house in no more than fifteen minutes, tops.

Despite the power's being out, there was no change in the condition of the security of the lab; all the doors and the windows were still locked. Jules paused when they had checked all of them, looking rather perturbed as he eyed the side of the building. Verne, deciding not to ask questions on what would come next, circled the barn a few times to recheck the secured windows and doors and work his mind on a solution to gain entrence. Presently, he saw something that sparked an idea, if nothing else.

Verne trotted over to where his brother was standing, still scowling in concentration. "Jules," he said, a shade too loudly. His sibling send him a stern look. Verne lowered his voice to continue. "I think I know how we can break in. Can we get a rope or somethin'?"

Jules blinked, his frown slow to fade. "Why?"

"Because." Verne decided it would be too much trouble to explain without some models. He grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him to the front of the barn. "See that?" he asked, pointing up at the slightly ajar [what the hell is that door called?] that led to the hayloft. Without waiting for Jules to acknowledge that he did indeed see it, Verne went on. "All we gotta do is get a rope, loop it around that beam" -- his finger moved to the slab of wood jutting out from the large support beam of the roof" -- and then we can climb inside."

Jules frowned still. "I can't climb ropes," he said, a touch of challenge in those words.

"So?" Verne asked, still not seeing a problem. "I can, an' I'll just let you in the normal way."

Jules eyed the beam, where an old, rusted pully still dangled from the end. "It will be highly difficult to get a rope airborn to that altitude and secure enough to support your weight," he said.

"I can do it," Verne insisted, then decided to generously rephrase that statement. "We can do it," he said. "Where can we get some rope that long?"

The rope, as it turned out, was easily located in their mother's gardening shed, behind the carport that was recently built by their father as a temporarily solution to a more long-term problem that promised to be solved over the summer months -- building an actual garage. The carport wasn't much -- a tarp roof suspended by a beam and several posts dug into the ground -- but it did protect their family station wagon from some of the elements. In the meantime, the small gardening shed stored some of the more garage-esque elements, like a lawnmower, gardening tools, hoses, and a fifty foot coil of rope that would more than suit their purposes.

Jules paused long enough before leaving to collect a small handheld gardening rake with a wooden handle. He stopped Verne as he was about to head out of the building with the rope coil draped over one shoulder. "I've got an idea," he said. When Verne waited for him to continue, Jules took one end of the rope, dangling several inches off the ground, and started to wrap it around the metal at the base of the tool, between the bottom of the handle and the prongs.

"What're you doing?" Verne asked.

"We need something weighted on this end," Jules explained, knotting the rope in some complicated way that Verne bet he picked up in one of his books or encyclopedias. "It will allow the rope to have more height and also allow us to lower this end to the ground in an easier manner so we may create a secure slip knot."

Verne grasped the idea that Jules was leading up to, though seeing the claw-like tool now tied at one end of the rope gave him a different idea. "We could use it as a grappling hook, too," he said.

Jules looked at him witheringly. "It's not meant for that purpose, Verne," he said. "Stop believing everything you see on television or in the movies."

The mention of films reminded Verne of their mission and of the time slowly ticking away. A glance at his watch caused him to take in a sharp breath. "Cripes, it's after ten! We gotta hurry!"

The boys returned to the lab and after a few unsuccessful tries with the rope, Jules took over and got it over the beam on his second try. As Verne scowled at the injustice of this, Jules lowered the weighted end of the rope to the ground, had Verne hold onto his end, then let go to run to the weighted end. In minutes, he had rigged a loop that looked to Verne like a lasso. Jules ran the other end of the rope through it, then pulled the loop to the top, where it pressed firmly against the beam. After tugging the rope hard a few times, Jules seemed satisfied and allowed Verne to climb it.

The climb took him only a minute; he was one of the fastest rope climbers in his class at school and the only difference between the gym and here was the fact it was outdoors, at night, and there were no mats to protect you if you slipped. But Verne had never slipped.

When he reached the two foot by two foot opening to the hayloft, Verne found things to be a little more difficult than he had first anticipated. He quickly saw why his father had never closed the shutterit was rusted open six inches and moved only if Verne pulled hard. A difficult task, at best, while dangling some 25 feet off the ground.

"Is something wrong?" Jules called in a whisper from the ground.

"It's rusted," Verne grunted, his arms beginning to ache a little from supporting his weight so long. "Give me a few minutes."

"I've got an idea," Jules said. "Hold on, I'll be right back." He took off running across the lawn, towards the gardening shed. Verne adjusted his grip and eyed the dark space into the hayloft, wondering if it would be possible in any way to wedge his foot in there and pull the door open that way.

Before he could try such a dangerous manuever, however, Jules ran back, holding a spray can in his hand. "I got some WD-40!" he called up. "It should loosen the hinges."

With no other way around it, Verne climbed down, rested his arms for a minute, then managed to wedge the spray can in one of the pockets of his baggy shorts. He returned to where he had been before, gooked the spray all over the visable hinges, then dropped the can to the ground and tried pulling the door again. It protested for a moment, then started to give, emitting a terrible, tortured metallic groan as it did so.

Verne managed to wrestle the door open enough to swing inside. He wrinkled his nose at the stuffy, dusty odor of the hayloft and started walking towards where he thought the way down was, pitch blackness surrounding him. When they had just moved into the home and barn, his father had showed the family around and allowed Jules and Verne a brief look at the hayloft before declairing it off limits.

"When I have the time and money I'll get it cleaned up," he had said at the time. "It's too small to store the DeLorean, and definately for the train, so perhaps I'll turn it into a study of sorts."

That day had yet to come, and the loft was currently the unofficial attic for the Brown family, filled with a strange, eclectic accumulation of family heirlooms, bits and pieces of inventions, and some souvenieres picked up from time travel expeditions that would be dangerous outside the lab. Verne grimaced as he walked into something hard, his left knee taking the brunt of the impact. He dropped to the floor and felt his way along the dusty boards, finally locating by touch and the faint memory of his one time up here a trap door, which lead to a ladder built up against the wall, which lead him to the main floor.

Verne let Jules in close to five minutes after entering the buildingdusty, a little bruised, but pleased with his accomplishment. "The power's totally out," he said by way of greeting.

Jules glanced around the room for a second, seemed to confirm Verne's statement, then smiled. "Good," he said, sounding pleased as he shut the door at his back. "Now we need to locate some flashlights and the keys to the DeLorean."

Verne frowned as he looked around the darkened room, Jules already opening some of the cabinates under the tables in search of the flashlights. "I don't see the DeLorean, Jules," he said after a moment. "Did Mom and Dad take it with them?"

"No -- I saw them drive off in the station wagon. And they would never take the time machine out in public like that." Jules located a flashlight and passed it to Verne. "I believe that Father must have the holographic projection system running, likely as an added security measure. If one cannot see something, then they certainly can't steal it."

"Then how are we gonna get into it?" he asked, having only seen their father demonstrate his latest time machine modification once, so far, and only briefly.

"I asked the same question of Father," Jules replied as he located another flashlight and closed the cabinate. "He told me he had modified a car alarm remote control from the future to turn the device on and off from a distance. It's on the car keys."

"And where're those?"

"I'm not certain. We'll just have to look around."

It took ten minutes of crawling under tables, feeling around on shelves, and rummaging through drawers and stacks of papers before Jules located the keys -- hanging, in quite plain sight, on a hook on the wall with some other tools and the like. Verne was confused at the move since, last he knew, their father was actually taping the keys under some of the furniture, but Jules wasn't particularly shocked.

"It makes sense," he said once the keys were in hand. "With the HIS system now, the DeLorean doesn't appeare thereand so why would the keys need to be hidden."

"I guess," Verne concurred as Jules found the appropriate button on the small thumb-sized remote with the keys, causing the DeLorean to suddenly appear in the room. "And I think he thinks that this place is pretty secure now."

"Which is good," Jules said. "If Father is comfortable with that, then he shouldn't know of our trip -- and perhaps we can do this again sometime."

Verne thought about that for a moment, reviewing the last half hour in his head, and groaned faintly. "Man, this movie better be worth it," he said. "I don't know if I wanna go through all this every time we need to time travel."

The boys opened the double doors by hand, unable to use the remote control due to the power being out. They got in the car without trouble, Jules scoring the driver's seat while Verne was distracted loading Mr. Fusion. While Verne sulked over this, Jules managed to crack the numeric code to access the time circuits and use the engine.

Leaning as far forward as he could, in an effort to both reach the peddles and see over the wheel and dash, Jules proceeded to stall the car repeatedly as he tried to get it out of the garage. Just when Verne, noticing that the present time was ticking increasingly fast towards the hour of eleven, was about to give up on the whole idea, Jules managed to get the car moving more than a couple feet. Despite his frightening and inexperianced driving style -- they nearly ran right over their mother's garden as they passed it -- Jules managed to locate the right switch to activate the car's hover circuits on....and several minutes later they were heading towards the past.