Story #1 of the Mary Sue-San Series

Warning: Alternate Reality, and a very unlikely Mary Sue here, she's just an alternate ego who knows Blair belongs to Jim

Notes: A very special sisterly thank you to Patt and Tricia for letting themselves become characters in this comedy, that pokes a little fun at *this* writer.

Once upon a time in the land of slash, there were three devoted sisters who had a two special friends in common. Their names were Susan, Patt, and Tricia. They were all slash writers and posted so much it kept their listsibs feverish in anticipation what they were going to write next.

But, there came a serious breech in the slashworks. Patt and Susan argued. Yes, both must shamefully hide their blushes. They argued over a number, an inconsequential little thing, and it drove the two sisters apart. They had to fight it out, to put up their dukes, so to speak.

It was over ownership of the number "69".

On an ugly little muddy hill outside Cascade, Susan and Patt played tug of war with the letters, Tricia acting as cheerleader. But the poor woman knew not who to root for--the Blairbabe or the Jimbabe?

Patt got a vise hold on number 6 and Susan snatched 9, but in her great haste she feel bass akwards and 9 was turned upside down. Patt jerked up the poor fallen 9 in triumph, waving both numbers skyward, but now it's upended into 6, but Lady Patt, unseeing, still yells in victorious glory: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, the're mine, Mine, now. 69 is all mine, now!!"

To which, Susan, battered and bruised, and bewetted by the sodden turf, bitterly cries out in her defeat, "You goofy woman, thats 66 you're waving around, not 69!"

Patt roars in disbelief, then throws the wrinkled, torn numbers at Susan, still lying pitifully on the ground. Disdainfully, Patt tips her elegant nose up to catch the rainfall. "Hmmmph! Well, I Never! And I mean Never! And, anyway, Blair loves me more than he does you, (words which will crush the heart of any Blairbabe), so THERE, you big baby--"

Susan burst into childish tears.

"PATT!" came a thundering male voice, seemingly out of nowhere.

A monstrous clap of thunder caused Patt to leap five feet upward, nearly un-tennis shoeing herself, making mud splatter her torn blouse. (Susan had managed to get in a good claw hold.)

Patt whipped her neck around to see...the Big Guy Himself, James Joseph Ellison, in all his macho posturing--protect his tribe--Sentinel imperative glory. (He was stuck with a flat tire in Cascade's suburb, Cliche City.)

"Patt, what in the all-fired libbety-gizzardy ham-be-dee tarnation do you think you're doing?" And with such a scowl on his face, it made the planes of it seem as sharp as razors, he towered over Miss Patt, making her "squeek, squawk, spirtle, slurpey slump!

Miss P. Rose took a gigantic step backward and stumbled into the hands of Tricia, a very good friend indeed to have when one stumbles on The Sentinel highway of strife.

Tricia gawked up at Mighty Jim, watching the muscles twitching and jumping at play under that delicious black tee shirt.

Patt snidely squalled, "Hey, Tricia, get your peepers off Cave Man Ellison, and help me geddup from this slime, okay?"

"Aw, sure, Patt, I was just distracted, ya know? Big Jim in Person? I mean.." and Tricia began mumbling words under her breath. Patt strained her non-sentinel ears to hear, but the only words she could make out seemed wondrously familiar..but hideous at the same time. Tricia was chanting, "...hunk...hunka...hunka...burning luv...yea, he's a hunk...uh...uh...luv..."

Those two ladies watched as Jim's facial demeanor did a U-turn. A beatific smile on his gorgeous face caused an "uh, uh" from Patt, and an "oo, oo" from Tricia, as he kneeled down on the muddy ground beside Susan, poor forgotten little thing.

She was sobbing her little heart out, crying, "Jim, Jim, please..."

Her green eyes, pooling with saline solution, brimmed over, to cause brown ripples to cascade down her face, into her nosrils, on through her windpipe. She choked, and spluttered, "Jim?"

"Little sister," he comforted, speaking so Jim-soft sweetly to Susan, scanning her for injuries. Her protector made a cradle with his hands and arms and tenderly lifted her up, letting her head nestle into his broad chest.

Meanwhile, trudging over the hills and valleys over the mud arena to get to the foursome, came a young man.

The glumpy, oozey, smacking sounds of his boots in the mire nearly gave Tricia and Patt whiplash as they jerked around to Gawk and Goggle, the goggle-eyes popping out of their fenny heads.

"Now, there is a Sight to see!" giggled Tricia, who can giggle with the best of fen.

"Oh, sis, you got that right!" replied Patt, eyeballing the Beauty before them, spittle escaping her lips, like Pavlov's doggie at bell-ringing time.

Oh, the poems that Shakespeare did write, and the hidden diary entries of 13-year-old teens scribbling of their forever loves, just could not compare with the Perfection huffing and puffing to reach the group.

Oh, the grace of his stride, the lean hips swinging, those small hands sliding down his jeans (to remove clumps of mud there, what else?), the moistened, bewet, dewy ringlets gently caressing his face. The wind tousled them into his true blue eyes.

Patt sneezed (she couldn't help herself) when Adonis Blair's curls curled around his nose, spiking his cheekbones. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..." she intoned, caused Tricia to break out into a songfic.

Tricia did a great rendition of..."That's the Way (uh uh) I Like it, Uh Uh, Oh That's..."

The young man turned to the stunned statues staring at his lovely attribues, then fiercely glared. In a throaty voice, he called to his lover, "Jim, why are Patt and Tricia playing in the mud?"

"Chief," answered the Big Man, "Patt's in trouble with a Capital T! And it's not T for Texas and T for Tennessee, either."

At those words, Blair disdainfully turned to give them a second glare.

"Go get the truck up here, Chief. We're taking Susan back to the loft for some TLC. We're gonna bathe her, wash her hair with that expensive herbal 'poo that does stuff to my...hum--hum, wrap her up and carry her upstairs to our bed."

Blair ran, giving Patt and Tricia a rapturous view of his End, his magnificent bo-hunkus encased in sopping wet tightness. A glowing sheen appeared on the two ladies' upper lips, which was a little too salty to be skywater.

"Jim!" Susan cried, causing Ellison to cuddle her more snuggly in his arms.

"What is it, Angel? Are you hurt, do you need to go to the emergency room, you want a doctor, what you need, it's done, right now."

In his best Army Rangers, ex-Covert Ops growl, he asked, "Susan, do you want me to Take 'Em Out? I'll put Tricia and Patt in such a deep-down dark hole, their listmommies will never find 'em!" And oh, Patt began to tremble, and Tricia began to shake.

The truck roared up, splattering mud in three directions. Blair rolled down the window. "Bring Susan to me, Jim. I'll take care of my dollface, while you take good care of her tormentors." Blair turned his pissed-off expression on the two quivering jelly fishes.

"Real good, extra care, Jim, if you know what I mean. There's a reward waitin' for you tonight, too, the quicker it's done, the longer your reward will last."

Jim raced to the truck to deposit Susan in willing, warm arms. "Hot dog, chile and cheese" was Jim's war cry as he then leapt forward, towering over the sisters.

Now Patt began to bawl and Tricia began to howl, and she howled like a spirit wolf. When Susan heard that, she scrambled out of the Guppy's divine prescence, stumbling over the mud, through pot holes, crawling through briars and scratchy thickets, to reach Patt and Tricia.

"Susan, NO!" yelled Jim, reaching to his back for his gun.

Susan wept bitterly, and drying her eyes on her soaked shirt, gave that green-eyed "look" at Jim, saying, "Hush, now, Jim. We'll be alright, yes we will. You just go on home with Blair, and I'll call you for a raincheck on that shampoo. Maybe you can do me and Blair at the same time," and Susan gulped at thos double-entendre words.

Jim sighed and winked. "Okay, honey, anytime, and I mean....anytime. You call me if Patt and Tricia start fussin' with you again. Next time, Ladies, No Warning!"

"Yessir, sir," gulped the two cowering masses of pulchritude.

After the mud cleared and the gasoline fumes wafted away with the retreating truck, Susan turned to her two fandom cohorts, and opened her big arms wide. Patt raced into them, sobbing, "Oh forgive me. I'm sorry, I'm a rat, just a lousy rodent."

"Yes darling, we know you are," agreed Susan. "But I love my sister, yes I do, so can we stop fighting over a silly number, of all things?"

"Yeah, let's not tussle anymore. Friends 4--Ever?" begged Patt.

"Friends 4--Ever and Ever," Susan agreed. Susan left the embrace of Patt's arms only long enough to draw Tricia into their midst.

"Slash Sisters of the World, Unite!"

"Amen," chorused Patt.

"Preach it, sister," rejoiced Tricia.

The Threesome smile for it's the End right now of the first story.