Part XIII: It Had To Be Done

"Joel, I think you've got a run in your pantyhose," College Buddy commented.

"What? They're tights, not pantyhose," Joel countered while studying his legs for runs and tears. Sure enough, there was long run from his ankle to the back of his knee. Between that and the torn waistband, those tights had just about had it.

"Yeah, whatever. You still have a run," College Buddy shrugged.

"You been studying Joel's legs much?" teased Crow.

"What!?! No!" Buddy protested in annoyance, "For goodness sake, Joel. How much humiliation are you planning to take before you put some pants on?"

"I think he's waiting until that tiny last shred of dignity is good and squashed," Tom said cheerfully.

"Ha ha," Joel said dryly, "All right, I give up. Where'd those pants go?"

"I think one of the bots ran off with them," Santa Mike said.

"Which one?" Joel asked seriously. He wasn't sure how much longer the tights would last.

"I think it was a Crow," Santa Mike said helpfully.

"LOOKIT ME!!! I'M THE SECRET LOVE CHILD OF PETER PAN AND A KEEBLER ELF!!!!" shouted a familiar voice. One of the Crows had put on Joel's green pants and
had glued some Spock ears to the sides of his net. He was doing a little dance on one of the tables while doing a very unflattering impression of Joel for all to see.

"Crow! Get down from there and give me those pants," Joel ordered.

"Why? You just left them lying around. Finders keepers," the particularly childish Crow declared.

"You got a Teddy Ruxbin. Married Man gave me those pants. Now hand them over," Joel ordered again, wondering who's Crow this was.

"Aww, but Joel, you're much funnier in tights," Crow protested. Joel turned red again, remembering a very embarrassing picture a Crow had taken. Had it been this Crow?

Joel decided that he had better end this little argument as quickly as possible because it seemed like everyone in the bar was watching now. A few people were snickering with the anticipation of another funny Kodak moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Joel saw another Crow with a camera. Joel made a desperate grab for the golden table dancer. Crow tried to jump away, but Joel caught him by the pants leg. They both tumbled to the floor. The waistband that had given Joel so much trouble earlier decided to fall down
again. Both man and bot had their leg coverings around their ankles, but it was much more embarrassing for Joel. The crowd started laughing uproariously and Joel saw a camera flash go off.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Joel pulled his tights back up and began extracting the Crow from his pants. It wasn't a difficult task. Joel held the pants upside down and shook the spindly bot right out of them before going to the bathroom to change clothes.

'I should have done this sooner,' Joel thought ruefully. The slacks fit perfectly and felt much nicer than those leg-hair tearing tights. As he was walking out to rejoin the party, a disturbing thought hit him. 'How did Married Man's wife know what size pants I wear?' Joel wondered.

-Amanda


***

Part XIV: And a cat in a pear tree!

Of all the fictives to turn up at the club, the last one Nan-Cy expected was Pixel. He had found himself a seat on the bar countertop, much to Tom Servo and Orie's dissatisfaction.

Despite his name, Pixel had very little to do with computers. He was, in fact, a cat. Robert A Heinlein's very large, well-muscled, pet cat, gifted the ability to pop in and out of space and take out any dog that challenged him, but a cat none the less.

"Hello Pix. How's it going?" Nan-Cy asked, patting the feline on the head.

Pixel purred. Unlike most of Subreality's animal population, Pixel was incapable of human speech. This had no limit on his intelligence; he had as much, if not more than the average human. Pretty good for a character that was half fictive, half real cat.

"Servo, a scotch for my friend here," Nan-Cy called.

The robot quickly sent a glass their way, despite his misgivings about the cat. Pixel graciously began lapping up the liquor, somehow managing with his short muzzle to drink out of the glass.

Nan-Cy showed Pixel the note she had gotten earlier. "So, what do you make of it?"

The cat smiled. As strange and physically impossible as it sounds, the cat flashed a grin to Nan-Cy.

"Figures," She grumbled. "I'm always last to know."

Lapping up the last bit of scotch, Pixel let out a howl, raised his powerful orange tail and swung it at the glass. The glass sailed across the club and shattered into a fireplace that hadn't been there a moment before.

Servo looked like he could do some serious damage to the cat if his arms worked. "Do you realize how much buying a new glasses is going to set us back?"

"It's a custom where he's from," Nan-Cy said, covering for the cat.

Two turned back to the cat, only to find that it was gone. Aside from the fireplace, Pixel had left with no trace that he had ever been at the club.

"That was very strange," Tom commented.

"Actually, that was very normal for Pixel." Nan-Cy fished a quarter out of her pocket. "I've got a important phone call to make."

-Teddog

***

Part XIIV:And the band played on

In a small corner of the Club, Jim tuned his upright bass while Kevin tinkered with his keyboards. It had taken some doing, but Jim had managed to lure Kevin away from "Santa Claus" with the promise of a gig. Now they were setting up and waiting for their bandmates to join them.

Tyler sauntered over to them, a huge grin on his face. Jim raised an eyebrow, "What are you so smug about?"

Tyler slid a pair on sunglasses onto his face. "Just talking to Joel about some pictures."

"Steve'll kill you if he ever finds out about that," Jim said.

"What, like you don't own a copy of those photos? Please," Tyler said as he went to setup his drum kit. Jim flushed with embarrassment.

Scant seconds later, Steve arrived with Ed trailing behind. The bespeckled lead singer turned to his bandmates. "Guys, if I ever meet that Author, remind me to kill her," Steve said.

"Writer, Steve. They're called Writers," Ed gently reminded him.

Steve scowled. "That's not the point," he protested.

"And which Writer? They're all women," Tyler said.

"The one who started *that* story. The one where we turn into women," Steve clarified

"A lot of people were involved in that story," Kevin remarked, never looking up from his keyboard.

"I know that. But she started it!" Steve nearly shouted.

"Steve, you're overreacting," Ed said soothingly.

"I'm not overreacting!" Steve shouted, stomping his foot. "Okay, maybe I am but I have every reason to!" The others looked at him expectantly. "This Japanese kid came up to me and asked for an autograph so I asked if we were big over in Japan. He said no but he had heard about us from that transgender transformation group we go to. So now I'm really ticked off!" Steve explained.

"You did give him the autograph, right?" Ed asked.

Steve looked at him, "Well, yeah. I just had to get another napkin."

Jim cleared his throat. "So, you guys want to start?" he asked.

"Let's do something kind of quiet. This is a party and we don't want to drown everyone out," Kevin said.

"Want to do 'O Tannenbaum?'" Tyler asked. After a brief conference over the rest of the set list, the band began to play.

-Joeanne

***

Part XVI: Mike... The Man, the Myth, the Legend

Tannenbaum, lights, garland, and mistletoe. It was almost perfect for a Christmas Party, minus the fact that Kitty wasn't there. Not that Mike didn't see her enough in the ShadowKnight Mansion, but how else could he appreciate mistletoe without someone there to share it with?

Smiling a goofy, innocent little grin to himself, he sidled over to Nan-Cy by the phone and gave her a quick peck on the cheek... just because he could. Then, somewhat inspired, he went back to the bar. "Howsabout getting me a Guinness, Tom?"

Servo snickered. "You sure you have a designated driver?"

"Eyup!"

"All right, fine." Swooping behind the bar, Servo hovered past and behold! the bottle was in front of Mike, inexplicably.

Mike did not ask questions. He had learned a long time ago not to. Grinning in thanks, he took a swig and went back to surveying the area, pulling the beard down so it wouldn't interfere with his drinking.

The band was playing, and for being such a band as they were, it still didn't sound like a butchery of the carols. Leaning back on the bar, he caught Joel's glance, returned it, and waited until the inventor made his way over. "Kinda hard to believe it's been a year and a half since I got back."

"A year and a half saving the world," Joel chuckled, stealing Mike's beer and taking a swallow before returning it. "A year and a half since I got the 'bots back, too."

Mike smiled, reminiscently. "Yeah... Man, it seems like forever standing here now. I mean, there we were then just trying to learn enough to stay alive out there, and now here we are healthy, hearty and... well, together."

"Can't imagine it getting much better than this, really," Joel said, softly, looking around the room, mind wandering back to the first moment he had really started this new life he lead.

---

He had just taken a shower after the drive from St. Paul, when Mike had all but begged him to take the 'bots and keep them safe... there had been something almost desperate in the farmboy then, something that was so utterly out of character (as far as Joel knew, anyway) that it had to be taken seriously. So he had gone, and in that little hotel room, he'd found what he'd been missing for so many years, all over again.

"J-Joel?"

"Hey, Servo."

"Is it... is it really you?"

"In the flesh."

Tom had all but thrown his little body into his arms, half-way sobbing. Joel only found out later how hard the past few weeks had been on the 'bots, on Mike, on everyone... so much trouble compared to the present. Crow had followed suit, though he was more joyous that desperate. That was when Joel knew he could never leave again... and he never did.

---

"I'm glad, you know," Mike said, bringing him back to the present. The farmboy crossed his arms, smiling a peaceful sort of smile. "I'm glad I went to St. Paul, and I'm even glad Chaos attacked, or I wouldn't have."

"So am I. I mean, not that everything was so rough back then, but that it all turned out okay," Joel agreed. He honestly didn't have any serious regrets, save one or two, about this life he led now.

"Yep!" Mike took a swig of his beer, caught up in his own memories, some bad but mostly good.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over at his best friend, the other half of the gestalt, and in that moment he couldn't have felt more thankful. Welcome to the holiday season, he thought offhand as they exchanged a brief grin and turned back to the festivities.

-SLWatson

***

Part XV: She May Be a Self-Insert, But . . .

There were a lot of things contributing to SI Bodger's hyper mood that evening. Granted, a lot of the hyperactivity may have had something to do with the punch, but the sight of one of the Joels with his tights around his feet helped a lot.

Not that she had a crush on him, or anything.

Moreover, the fact that her Writer let her go to the party without either the usual fusion or her supervision made the whole event seem that much neater. She was going to milk this opportunity for all it was worth.

First item of business: annoy Kirin out of his funk.

"HEY ELF-BOY!" she shouted in Kirin's direction.

"GAH!" The glass in Kirin's hand shattered as the elf stiffened suddenly. Alexis, who'd been standing next to him, shielded herself from the glass.

"Bodger, you idiot! You know never to call him by that name!" shouted Alexis to the approaching SI Bodger as Kirin took a napkin and wrapped his hand in it.

"Awww, come on! The guy needsh to lighten up a little, y'know? It's a party!" exclaimed SI Bodger. It was clear she'd gotten more than a little drunk.

"Yeah, well obviously you're a little TOO loose, since a few screws seem to be falling out. I've killed for less, you know," grumbled Kirin.

"Awww, he'sh getting violent, ishn't that shweet?" SI Bodger giggled.

"Whatever. Think I'll go over and talk to Scully or something. I don't think I wanna be here when the slaughter starts," said Alexis, parting from their company.

"Hee hee, I don't know why you hate that nickname so much. I think it's cute! Elf boy, elf boy, elf --"

*WHACK!*

A stunned SI Bodger was sprawled on the floor as Kirin began walking away. Little birds flew about her head.

'Well,' she thought, collecting her wits, 'at least he left the bar . . .'

-Bodger

***

Part XVIII: Roman Numerals Aren't for the Squeamish

"Mulder's been really nervous lately. Our Writer took him out of the Subreality F.B.I. because the character Mulder got kicked out of the F.B.I on the canon TV series," Scully explained to Alexis. "Now that Mulder's out of the canon TV series, our Mulder's nervous that our Writer might let him fade away. I wish we were as close to our Writer as you are to yours."

"It has it's down sides," said Alexis who was getting bored listening to Scully talk about Mulder's problems. Since they'd started talking, it had been 'Mulder this' and 'Mulder that.' Where was Mulder anyway?

College Buddy walked over to the pair of fictives. 'Maybe he'll make more interesting conversation,' Alexis hoped.

"Uh. Scully, would you go take care of Mulder? He's crying in his beer and it's really bringing the party down," College Buddy asked.

"What's he crying about now?" Scully asked.

"How should I know? He's probably worried about fading. Or maybe Doggit hit him. I don't know," College Buddy replied.

"Excuse me," Scully said, excusing herself to deal with sulky Mulder.

"Thank you," Alexis said to College Buddy after Scully departed.

"No problem," College Buddy replied. "Did I see the elf-boy hit your Writer? Isn't it dangerous to attack your Writer so directly?"

"That wasn't actually our Writer. It's her SI form," Alexis said before launching into an explanation of Bodger and her many forms.

College Buddy tried to understand and failed. It was so metaphysical and confusing that most of it sailed right over his head. So, instead of paying attention to what Alexis was saying, he was wondering whether or not he could get Alexis to go out with him. At first glance, she kind of looked like an ice queen. Then he remembered what she'd looked like during the 'Manos' escapade. 'It's worth a shot,' Buddy thought to himself.

"Ya'know, after the party, I know this great restaurant," Buddy began when Alexis had finished.

-Amanda

***

Part 19: Teddog Gives Up On Roman Numerals

692-763-8999.That was the number Nan-Cy dialed. Commander Rick had watched her from the bar, out of a slight bit of concern.

It took Rick good few minutes to connect a name with the phone number. By that time Nan-Cy had given up on the phone. It appeared that no one had answered. That was a good thing in Rick's mind. As far as he knew, the character that had the phone number was already married. There was no need for Nance to get her dreams crushed or cause the end of a marriage.

Rick wasn't the only person not feeling merry. Most of the fictives at the bar were either more depressed or more serious than normal. At the rate it was going, it wouldn't have had surprised Rick to see Clarence turn up for a pint of whatever it is that angels drink.

---

Over in the urban sprawl of Southwestern Ontario, a Writer was also not in the best of moods. She had spent the day wining about the use of a Supertramp song in a Gap commercial and was now forcing herself to cheer up by reading some recent round robin part s. By chance she noticed something vaguely familiar about a character's name. She reached for her copy of Neuromancer and checked the first page.

The Writer's discovery caused her to fall off her chair laughing.

---

Back in Subreality, Commander Rick had gained the same knowledge as his Writer. He couldn't help but snicker to himself.

After a moment of amusement, he explained his dilemma with the idea to the unseen Writer. "That's funny, but the problem is that if I asked Servo for some Kirin, he'll think I'm crazy or worse."

With slightly higher spirits, Rick decided to order a bottle of Guinness. He may have not been able to drink a high volume of alcoholic beverages, but he figured one bottle couldn't hurt. How much could be in one bottle?

As soon as he took a swig, a wave of melancholy hit Rick. 'That was strange' he thought. He looked at the current state of the other people at the bar and put two and two together. He stood up to announce his discovery, but since he was only five foot seven, he decided to climb up on a barstool for extra measure.

"Everybody! The Guinness is tainted!" Rick shouted. "It's laced with angst!"

-Teddog

***

Part XX: SLWatson Loves Roman Numerals

Mike blinked at this revelation, looking down at his Guinness. Well, that sure explained some things, didn't it? "Who would wanna do something depressing like that?"

Joel snickered and failed to mention any names, though one with the initials TS came to mind and it sure wasn't *Tom* Servo. Shaking his head with a grin, he went back behind the bar to investigate this angst infestation. "Well, the taps don't look like they've been tampered with."

"Hey, Tom, where did you and Joel get this stuff?" Mike called to bartender Servo, though ShadowKnight Servo turned his dome to look as well.

"Um... I think we ordered it," Servo answered. "Joel should have the receipts in his office."

Manager Joel nodded and slipped back into the back, then returned with the papers. Being Subreality, it didn't make a whole lot of sense that they would have to order out for beer instead of just tapping into the PCD and making it appear, but what the hell? Someone needed to explain it.

Mike and Joel leaned over the other Joel's shoulders as he ran through the list. Finally, something caught Manager Joel's eye, and he paused, reading, "'Thirteen casks of Guinness, $100...' good price on this stuff... ordered through the Subreality Liquor Control Agency..."

Mike frowned. One would think that those who were possibly-maybe-sorta-kinda-controlling Subreality's booze supply would know better than to ship angst laced beer to a place like the TTPCTS Club, which was more known for it's lightheartedness.

"I've got it!" Manager Joel yipped, looking at the top of the slip. "They got the order mixed up. This stuff was supposed to ship to a Trek Slash-Writers Guild. I'll bet they've got our normal Guinness."

The entire crowd in the club paused, contemplated and proceeded to shudder violently. Mike considered vomiting. ShadowKnight Joel considered... well, vomiting. In fact, most of them might have considered vomiting, but thankfully no one did, or it would have turned ugly fast.

"Well, I say we go out and get us some fresh, untainted beer," Rick said, matter-of-factly.

Mulder paused in his beer-bound crying and his face lit up. "I'll bet this is a conspiracy!"

"Or someone's idea of a very sick joke," Crow muttered, his little gold body shuddering. "Spock..." he continued in a damn good Kirk imitation, then fell into a series of convulsions.

"I'm with Rick." Mike grinned, then shuddered, then grinned again. "Let's go get us some untainted beverages."

-SLWatson

***