Just Hanging Out
by: SLWatson (watson_stephanie@yahoo.com)

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The weather in Subreality behaved as it usually did... oddly. One could find themselves standing in a tropical paradise one moment, and a mere moment later would suddenly be standing amidst snow and ice. The warm weather was much appreciated, but the cold weather seemed more common now than it had when he had last visited this strange and whacked out dimension.

More oddly, though, Mike Nelson went there alone this time. He had the PCD, though all he really knew how to do with it was get from Subreality to back home, and vise versa. Usually Joel did all of the fancy stuff, like drop circus elephants on people, but Joel wasn't there right then.

And Mike was by himself. He walked along the road, grateful for his heavy ShadowKnight parka, the red, black, and copper emblem standing proudly on the left sleeve. He had just wandered out of the Subreality Cafe not ten minutes ago, mostly because he needed some fresh air, and partly because he needed some time by himself.

Hence the trip to Subreality.

Not that he didn't want to hang out with the 'bots, Joel, Kitty, Adrie, and the rest, but he felt the urge to take a jaunt on his own, and now he was walking through a good two feet of snow. Well, until the weather shifted again, and parrots squawked from a nearby tree. He raised an eyebrow at them, wondering why someone would want parrots around.

"Talk to me, baby!" One of the brightly colored birds said down to Mike.

The farmboy raised the other eyebrow in response, a smile slowly crossing his face. "Not sure what to talk about."

The parrot seemed to shrug, replying, "Talk to me, baby."

Mike laughed, for some reason taking delight in it. He had a soft spot for animals; even animals with beaks that could break a finger. Tilting his head, he walked over to the tree, looking up slightly at the bird. "Hello."

"Hello," the bird answered, bobbing it's head a few times.

"D'you have a name?"

"Talk to me, baby!"

Mike laughed again, reaching a hand up and offering his finger with the sort of naive trust he was known for. Most people are more wise in the way of birds, but when the parrot brought it's beak down and took hold of the finger, lightly, it just thrilled the heck out of Mike. He reached his other hand up, and the parrot let his finger go, crawling down onto his arm in the manner a falcon or hawk may. "Wanna go for a walk? Well, as far as the sunlight goes, anyway."

The parrot didn't answer, just crawled up to his shoulder. Mike grinned up at the bird... geez, it was *huge*... and continued down the road.

The weather shifted again, and the parrot made an unhappy sort of noise. Mike winced -- it wasn't his intention to freeze the poor thing to death. Looking around quickly, he spotted a building that hadn't been there last time. There was a painted sign hanging there, and he made for the door, only really registering that it had a lot of capital letters and the word 'Club' in it. Moving fast, he opened the door, went in with his parrot, and closed it behind him. Then, when the bird stopped it's complaint he tossed it a smile and turned around.

And he blinked.

And he blinked again.

Tom Servo, his own beloved little red robot, was tending the bar. Mike's eyebrows drew together in a worried furrow, wondering how the heck Servo had even gotten into Subreality without the PCD... the farmboy glanced down at the modified Palm V. As far as it said, he was the only one outside of his own reality.

After a moment or two, he walked to the bar, hoping that his parrot kept quiet. "Um, Tom...?"

Servo looked up from a drinks book he was studying. "Oh, hey Mike. How's it going?"

"Fine..." Mike looked at the book, then back at the 'bot, then at the book again. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"Bodger!" The little 'bot replied, "She needed someone to bar tend."

Mike just got more confused. The last time he looked, Servo was upstairs with Crow, working on some sort of prank or another. He wasn't pouring drinks in a club. Still, as he looked around, Mike came to the conclusion that this wasn't a seedy dive, or a place where the little guy would come to any harm. Mellow lighting, fine oak furniture, a juke box in one corner... it really was a nice place. He looked back at Tom, sitting down on a barstool after a moment. The parrot hopped down on the bar, eyeing a bowl of peanuts. "So this place is...?"

"The TTPCTS Club," Tom offered, knowledgeably. "Wanna drink? I can mix almost anything."

"Um... Guinness," Mike answered, sort of absently. That was practically all they served at the Subreality Cafe, and he had acquired a taste for it. Before he had preferred something a bit more mellow, but... ah well. It was kind of addicting.

"Guinness?" Tom asked, then pecked a few things into a nearly hidden keyboard behind the bar. A pair of large robotic arms took a mug down, poured it from the tap, then set it down with a napkin.

Mike just looked at the arms, then the beer. He sure as heck wasn't in Westchester anymore. After a moment, he finally said, "Thanks."

"So who's your taskmaster?" Servo asked, conversationally. Business was slow, but then, they had just opened. One couldn't expect it to be busy just yet.

"My what?" Mike picked the mug up, taking a sip and wincing a little.

"Writer."

"Oh, her. She's not what I'd call a taskmaster... more of a vile creature that deserves banishment to Hell," Mike chuckled, though he really didn't mean it. He didn't hate his Writer, it was just his job to annoy her to little tiny bits. It was a job he took a great deal of joy in, as well, and over the past month or so, he had been appointed her unofficial Muse. He imagined that once she wrote her retirement fic, he'd be given full title and Muse power, but until then, he contented himself with tormenting her at every turn.

"Holy... geez, that bad?" Tom winced. He had a feeling he would see a lot of unhappy fictives in here, and he hoped that at least a few of them felt better having somewhere to go.

"Naw." Mike grinned, relaxing a little. He tossed a glance down to his parrot, which was making quick work of the peanuts. Heck, he hadn't even known that parrots liked peanuts.

Servo looked at the parrot as well, then back at Mike. "Well, what kinda stories are you in anyway?"

"Um, lemme see..." Mike tilted his head, looking to the ceiling. "One RPG, um, a series, a few stand alones... not much, really. What about you?"

"Some MSTings, kinda, and a few fics." Tom finally sat down. He really kinda enjoyed being a bartender... it meant that a lot of people looked to him for advice, and he knew he could come up with some pretty wicked advice. "What's with the parrot?"

"I dunno. He's nice, so I thought he'd wanna go for a walk with me." Mike shrugged, sipping on the Guinness.

"Huh... didn't think it'd bite your hand off?"

"Nope!"

Servo muttered to himself, "Mike is Mike is Mike. Naive."

"Naive?" Mike grinned a bit, leaning on the bar.

"Well, yea, but that's not a bad thing," Tom hastily replied, watching the parrot walk back over, it's massive claws clicking on the bar top.

"Eh, think if you will," Mike chuckled slightly. He was naive, that much was true. Always wanting to believe the good and forsake the bad. Still, life in the X-Mansion, and later the ShadowKnight Mansion didn't allow for too much of that. He had faced more than his share of hardships... it sometimes amazed him that he was still alive, let alone mentally okay for it. But then, in that universe he had one of the strongest support networks that he ever imagined... Joel, the 'bots, Kitty, Adriana, Lorna, Clay, Scott, even Remy and Hank and Logan. He had never thought that there would be a day when so many people watched out for him, and vise versa, but he found that he really did enjoy his life.

Sure, sometimes it was really tough. He had gotten his share of injuries and heartache, but they were all so closely knit that he never had to face anything without someone to catch him if he fell. And even with the bad things that occasionally struck, he had done what seemed to come so naturally... He had a chance to save people's lives, and did; a chance to make a difference.

Mike never would have imagined when he was in Wisconsin that someday he would be on a team like ShadowKnight, let alone practically leading it. He never would have imagined there would be a day when he would see a mother and her son brought back together because of something he helped to accomplish. That was a great feeling if there ever was one. Knowing that he had helped.

Being a hero came naturally. But he would never make it if he had to do it without the rest of the team... he loved them with a fierce intensity that defied description, and he knew it worked both ways. If nothing else, that was reason enough to stay with ShadowKnight, face being hurt or killed -- he had a family and a home to defend, and a dream to fight for.

"You still there, Mike?" Servo asked, breaking into his thoughts. The little 'bot wasn't exactly sure what to make of Mike's thoughtful look... he was so used to seeing a more gullible and slow-thinking version of the farmboy that he honestly didn't recognize that thoughtful look at first.

"Huh?" Mike blinked out of it, focusing back on the present. "Yea, sorry."

"You okay?" Tom asked, trying not to let himself sound concerned, particularly since it wasn't really his own version, but someone else's.

Mike nodded, smiling a genuine smile. "Yea, I'm fine. Just coming to a few realizations I needed to come to."

"Like?"

"Like maybe there are a lot of things worse than trying to save the world," the farmboy answered, grinning brightly. He glanced at the clock. "I better get back home. House of the Dead 2 needs beat again."

"Well, c'mon back whenever," Servo said, amiably.

"I will." Mike looked to his parrot, who was perched on the bar drowsily. "Hey, you ready to go? I know it's cold, but..."

"Eh, leave 'im here," Tom snickered. "He gets too chatty and I'll kick him out or roast him on the grill."

"Uhhhh..."

"I was joking!"

"Whew..." Mike walked to the door, then stopped and looked back. "Hey, what does TTPCTS mean, anyway?"

"Take The Plot Concept Too Seriously," Tom answered, looking at the bird himself.

Mike smirked slightly. Oh, he would fit in well here, wouldn't he? "All right. Thanks, Tom." And with that, he walked back outside.

Tom hovered over to the bird, eyeing it. "You have a name?"

The bird simply replied, sleepily, "Talk to me, baby."

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Disclaimers: The TTPCTS Club was created by Bodger. Subreality is Kielle's concept. The parrot belongs to Karen (KRWalker), and it's a very loooong story. Mike and Tom belong to BBI. Kitty, Remy, and the rest of the X-Crew belongs to Marvel. Team ShadowKnight belongs to the RPers of Insanity, Pure & Simple.