Author's website: http://www.learnlink.emory.edu/~sdelcul/index2.html

Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer. Possibly contaminated by plot. Or hallucinogens. So I'm having an intervention with myself. <g> Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com.

Author's Notes: Sorta sequel to "The busiest day of the week--tomorrow." Spoilers for a lot of my stuff--some in the works, some finished-- so you get extra points for the ones you find.

Story Notes: Crossover with the Sentinel and UK Queer as Folk. Plus, it won't make a lot of sense unless you've got at least a passing familiarity with most of my work. If anyone is interested, I will provide explanations.

This story is a sequel to: Tomorrow. The busiest day of the week

"Oh, no. Not Her. Please, Benny, don't let Her near me!"

"Who?"

"Her." Ray pointed.

Ben didn't see anybody where Ray was pointing, and he was beginning to become nervous.

"There's nobody there, Ray."

"Yes, there is, She's there."

"Who?"

"The Author. She's always there. Always. Keep her away from me."

Had someone put something on the pizza? Ray had been the only one to eat any.

"Ray?"

"Maybe if you told me a little more about what you feel is going on?"

"She's okay, sometimes. I mean, I guess I should be glad she hasn't killed me. Well, except for that once, but I got up there and talked my way back. But, God, Benny, the things she's put me through."

"What did she do?" He was trying to remain calm, in view of Ray's apparent descent into insanity, but he couldn't stand the fear and pain that Ray was exuding.

"What didn't she do, you mean. Give her an idea and she just runs with it. Never asks whether I want to be injured. Doesn't ask me how I feel about you ending up in the hospital. And that time that you were pregnant--where the hell did that come from, is what I want to know!"

"Pregnant?" He hadn't just squeaked that. Really.

"It's not like what she's doing now, I mean, you deserve that one. I guess I should be glad I'm not Stuart. She hasn't done a nice thing for him yet. At least you and I had that day with the fortune cookies."

"Stuart? Who is Stuart?" Ray had gotten up and was pacing around the room muttering to himself. "Ray, who's Stuart?"

"Haven't you been listening? And at least she hasn't done anything to my mother. Yet." He shivered.

"I have been listening, Ray. But I admit to being a bit lost."

"I'm still her favorite though, right? Not that it means anything to her. She still made you hit me."

"Hit you? Ray, I would never --" There was a knock at the door, and without conscious thought he answered it. The man standing there was unfamiliar to him, but he walked right in.

"Stuart? What are you doing here?"

"Have you seen what she's planning?"

"What? I might have missed something for you, she's had me a little busy lately."

"Yeah, but at least then she's working with something that he," he pointed to Fraser, "started. She's traumatized me."

"I would guess you'd be used to that by now. She's only had her hands on you for a few weeks, but she hasn't been playing nice."

"I could handle that, it's nothing that somebody hasn't touched on, plus it never lasts long. Besides, she doesn't like Cameron either, and that's good. But she's really sticking it to me now! She's killed Vince."

"Killed him? That doesn't sound like Her. Are you sure?"

"It certainly sounds like it. She hasn't gotten that far, but I'm traumatized. Really."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You're doing it."

"Crossover?"

"Yeah."

"Have you met Jim yet? Maybe he can help find Vince."

"Don't think so. What's his story?"

"You remember me explaining about the Polish guy?"

"The one with experimental hair?"

"Yeah."

"Uh huh."

"She had him replaced."

"Hairboy?"

"No, that's Blair."

"Who's Blair?"

"Blair's the guy Jim wants to sleep with."

"Ah. Is he getting any? At least she's letting me have sex."

"Yeah, except that he's dissolving. Well, that's a long story, except that it isn't."

"Who did she replace, then?"

"Jim. You remember Jim, don't you, Benny?"

Fraser had been listening to Ray's conversation with the newcomer, and he was even more lost than ever, if that was possible. What was it Ray said once? You have just entered the twilight zone?

"Detective Ellison?"

"Another Detective? She's got a thing for coppers?"

"On TV, yeah. In real life she's still getting over that speeding ticket two years ago."

Before the conversation could get away from him again, Ben interrupted. "Ray, perhaps if you were to introduce me to our guest?"

"Oh. Sorry, Benny. Benny, Stuart. Stuart, Benny."

"Nice to meet you, Stuart."

Stuart circled him with a wary eye.

"Oh, I can see why you like this one. Not bad."

Ray grinned an evil little grin.

"So, Stuart, may I call you Stuart?" Fraser began.

"You may."

"How do you know Ray?"

"Her."

"Her?"

"Not her, Her." Ray explained.

"I think I need to sit down." He did. It didn't help.

"With any luck something will happen and she'll move to a different story. Sometimes it takes her years to finish something."

"Yeah right, and then suddenly she'll pull off finishing five or seven and starting nine others just because she gets a new CD. Sometimes I just hate that Sarah McLachlan person, don't you?"

Fraser at last felt like they were at least speaking a foreign language from earth. Sarah McLachlan at least he had heard of--Canadian, after all.

"What if we stuck her in front of something so utterly non-slashy that there's no way she can come up with something."

Fraser was just being ignored at this point as he gave in. Delusional people usually weren't just making things up. Delusions were usually grounded in something drawn from real life. This at least meant they were looking for ways out of their joint madness. "What did you have in mind, Stuart?"

"Uh, the Sound of Music?"

"Seven children, and basically only one guy who marries a nun? Yeah, that will work. Okay, on the count of three-"

{one}

{two}

{three}

aj;sdoifjaodifjb ** ljfoaiusdglkj AHHHHH a;ilbuaiouaklnmhnh HELP !!!! aldbuaoisgualskndng must ndooiugklsnrgio write lkb;osidusdfkglsndfgii It aoifjgaksndf was bjsrmgn a mbiosrtr dark n;bisruskldfmgs and lsjkdfo;ihus;rklmg stormy klsjh;s nigh---

"Quick! Get the pen away from her, she's scribbling on the palm of her hand."

"Wait!!! I've got it. I understand it all know. It's so easy; how could we have missed it?" He paused dramatically. "It's all Shannon's fault."

"What's that mean, Stuart?"

"Quaint little Irish tradition. Seems there once was this lady named Shannon. She was sweet and all, but she had a way of giving people the strangest ideas and making them do all kinds of things. There's even a holiday for it. March 22, Shannon Appreciation Day. If somebody asks, you just say, 'It's all Shannon's fault.'"

{silence}

"Did it work?"

"Don't worry, Ray. I'll come visit you as soon as I can."

They're coming to take me away, ha ha. They're coming to take me away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha, to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time, and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats . . . . .

End Intervention by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com

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