My Name Is Kasey, And I'm Addicted To FanFiction by Slippin' Mickeys red_phile@yahoo.com CLASSIFICATION: H RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: You know it. I know it. Denial ain't just a river. KEYWORDS: None. SPOILERS: None. DISCLAIMER: You know they don't belong to me- Mulder, Scully and the crew- CC and Fox maintain the rights, And I hope that they don't sue. I just love running around here In Chris' little universe And I hope that he appreciates That my stories aren't perverse. I think that copyright infringement Is a complicated phrase But all my lawyer friends tell me That in the end it really pays. But see, Chris- (can I call you that?) You don't need the money all that bad, You flick ran me $7.50 And that was all I had. And since I've seen it 7 times (You had better love me now) was your little venture successful? If not, I'll tell you how: Quit teasing all of us 'Shippers (Noromos number in the few) You've got to give us the kiss And that missing hospital "view". But really what's most important, What would make it all the brighter- Is if you and your lawyers decided Not to prosecute *this* fanfic writer! HEY! You know what? I don't really even NEED a disclaimer! Oh wait. Maybe I do. After all, I DO mention their names. And I mention the Big Kahuna's too, but I don't think he has his copyrighted. Yet. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: To the chat-chicks of Monday night. I hope I did you proud. ARCHIVE: Go for it. Just make sure that my name and email address stays attached. And let me know where it is so I can go visit! I love visiting! FEEDBACK: Do you want me to beg? Do you really? Cause I'll do it, you know! I crave and love feedback! Constructive flames are accepted (albeit begrudgingly). I just use the flamey flames however, to light the sh** bombs that I throw at the houses of the people who send me them. ;) People, if you don't have something nice to say, shut your trap and go away. ;) red_phile@yahoo.com NOTE: Okay people, I don't know if I can stress enough how important feedback is not only to me, but to every other fanfic writer out there. We don't get paid to do this, though we love it. Feedback is the ONLY payment we get, and you know what? WE LOVE IT! More than applesauce and marzipan. So go on, even if it's only a few short sentences, or hey, I'm realistic, even one sentence, send positive feedback to the authors of your favorite story. It will make their day. I promise. Okay, enough preaching, go enjoy! Go on, GO! My Name Is Kasey, And I'm Addicted To FanFiction By Slippin' Mickeys I should have known what was coming when they cornered me in the cafeteria. There I was, stuck in the largest non-military cafeteria in the world, and I had no were to go. They'd bamboozled me. They had tempted me with the last piece of Oreo pie. I should have known. NO ONE gives up their piece of Oreo pie without an ulterior motive. I sat in the corner, happily scarffing down my pie, *feeling* the sophomore 20 pooling around my hips. I was just licking of the last bit of whip cream from the spoon when I felt all uncomfortable and looked up to find my friends starting at me. At least they had let me enjoy my pie. I looked at each one in turn and asked, "What?" They didn't respond. They just kept looking at me. Joby hung his head and slowly shook it. "WHAT?" I asked again, a little more defensively. "Kasey," my head swiveled to Alicia, "we know you have a problem, and we want to help you." I turned my gaze to my plate, staring intently at it, pushing the crumbled bits of Oreo around with my spoon, trying desperately to think of what had them so concerned. I thought I had it. "Oh," I started, "don't worry you guys, I *did* have a lot to drink that night, but you know I can't resist crest shots, and anyway," I said, getting defensive once more, "Ug had a lot more to drink that night than I did! He was the one puking his guts out on the footbridge by the stadium." I looked to Joe Lee, the kid we lovingly referred to as Ug (he wasn't really ugly, but with a last name like Lee, you can't *not* call him Ug.) and he stared back. This was scaring me, Ug was never silent. He looked to Alicia for help. She began again. "Kasey, it's not the drinking we're worried about. And don't worry, we won't tell anyone you instigated the beer riots last year." Well good Al, after all, what other way was Michigan State going to get on CNN? Certainly not for their football team. I was glad *someone* appreciated the things I did. I was still confused however, and asked, "If not the drinking, then what.?" Patty cut me off. "We hear you've been reading fanfiction!" Gasps came from all directions. Heads swiveled toward Patty. She raised her arms defensively. "What? I never said I agreed with breaking it to her gently. She's got a problem. She needs help." At which point all eyes turned slowly to me. My nostrils flared and I threw Heather a ' you-are-SO-dead' look. She cowered down in her chair. Deep Throat was right, you can't trust anyone. It all started out when I left my door unlocked one day, and had my headphones on full blast. I hadn't heard Heather knock, and she tentatively opened the door. I was singing "One Week" like I was on center stage and hadn't noticed her come in until it was too late. She tapped me on the shoulder, and I nearly fell out of my chair. I panicked and minimized my screen, but it was too late. She had seen it. "Kasey," she asked innocently, "what was that?" I pushed off my headphones quickly and my mind raced to come up with an explanation. "What?" I pushed out. "Nothing. It was. nothing. Nothing." Okay, I hadn't *totally* lied. The title of the fanfiction I was writing *was* called 'Nothing.' "Nothing my ass," she said, getting her head closer to the screen, purposefully invading my personal space, "what was that? What were you doing?" My mind raced. I had used the email excuse way too many times, and she knew damn well that I didn't have a writing class this semester. I was still panicking, chewing on my fingernails when she took over the mouse and clicked on the bottom of the screen. I sucked in a chortled breath. Oh no! She read a few lines over my shoulder, whispering softly to herself. I could only pick out a few words. Mainly "Mulder" and "Scully." After the latter, she abruptly stopped reading and turned to me slowly. I didn't return her gaze, I hung my head, defeated. I had been found out. She re-minimized the screen, straightened, brushed off the front of her sweater and walked out the door without saying a word. I thought of running after her, and whispering harshly, "You never saw this. This didn't happen. You tell anyone, and you're a dead man!" But I think I had forced her to watch that episode. I had forced them to watch *every* Darin Morgan episode. So there I was, three days later sitting in the cafeteria, with all of my friends staring at me and making clucking noises in the back of their throats, a few tsk-ing, and the last piece of Oreo pie roiling around in my now churning stomach. "And not only reading," Al continued, "*writing* it too." I didn't know what to say. I looked at everyone, looking for help. No one offered, and I began rambling. "But I. we. I." I sighed heavily and quit, hanging my head. "Denial ain't just a river, sweetie," Chanel said, patting me on the shoulder. I waited a few moments, then conceded with a small voice, "Okay, you're right." But I wasn't going to let them bring me down, I *liked* fanfiction, damn it! I raised my head, and spoke louder, "You're right! I DO read fanfiction! In fact, I could ramble off the winner's of the most recent Morleys and Starbucks before you could say Chris Carter!" I was picking up speed, "and you know what else? I DO write fanfiction, damn it! And even if the only payment I receive is a measly amount of feedback, I'm Slippin' Mickeys and damn proud of it!" I was like the Great Mutado at a Cher concert; no one could stop me, "And one more thing!" I rose from my chair, "Last weekend when I said I had the pounding headache?" They all nodded, "well I *didn't* have a headache! I purposefully stayed in so I could read the latest addition to Shalimar's story, '5 years!'" The tension was palpable. No one took a breath. "We knew this was bad, Kasey," Alicia took the lead once more, and I sat back down, "we knew we should be worried when you started spitting out the titles of the episodes during dinner, or telling everyone about the latest spoilers, but we didn't know it had gotten this bad. Tell me, what does UST mean?" "Unresolved sexual tension," I answered quickly. "MSR?" "Mulder - Scully romance." "V? A? H?!?" Her tone took on a frenzied pitch. "Vignette. Angst. Humor," I answered matter-of-factly. Dennis smacked his head, Ralph groaned, and Joby left the table. "Kasey," Alicia grabbed my hand and looked me straight in the eye, "you need help." With that, she shoved a small piece of paper in my hand, and they all rose to their feet wordlessly, leaving me sitting there with my plate of Oreo crumbs, a piece of rumpled of paper, and my shredded dignity. I opened up the paper slowly and read it twice. "XFFFA: X-Files FanFiction Anonymous. Monday night, 10pm, MSU Union, Badger room." I slid my plate onto the tray, shoved the scrap of paper deep into my pocket, and headed back to my room, guiltily eager to see if some kind soul had left a piece of positive feedback in my inbox. XxXxXxXxXxXxX I walked into the Badger room of the Union with my head bowed, and took the nearest seat. After a few moments, I looked up and scrutinized the room, and the other ladies in it. There were women of all ages, the youngest looked to be about 15. There were about 12 in all, and the kind looking woman at the head of the table cleared her throat and spoke up, "I think everyone is here, can we call this meeting to order?" "But what about--?" The youngest member motioned to the one empty seat in the room. "Fay is still in Greece, Amy. Er Lindsey, er Amy. Whatever." Said the woman seated to my right. "Oh," said Amy, or Lindsey, or Amy, "thanks, Pam." "And she sends her love, or Filakia, I can't remember which," said the woman at the head of the table. "Okay, with that out of the way, lets call this meeting of The X-Files FanFiction Anonymous to order. For those of you new people," she nodded to me, and the woman seated to my left, "we affectionately refer to it as Smutville, and as Mayor Laura, I'd like to welcome you." All the heads turned to us, and the dear-heart next to me stood up first and introduced herself. "My name is Hettie, and I'm addicted to fanfiction." There would have been thunderous applause, had not everyone in the room been wearing braces for carpultunnel. Hettie sat back down, and all eyes went to me. I slowly rose and looked around the room, my eyes finally landing on Pam, who was sitting next to me. She motioned for me to come near her, so I bent down, and she whispered, "you're just jealous because the voices talk to *me*." I gave her a strange look, a wider birth, and let out the breath I was holding. "My name is Kasey, and I'm addicted to fanfiction." XxXxXxXxXxX And so ends my story, feel free to share yours, or ANY positive feedback, no matter how short to red_phile@yahoo.com *** Visit my fanfic webpage! http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Crater/3303/slippin.html ***
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