So Let It Be. . . (ALL,FLUFF,YTEEN) - [COMPLETE]

[cherie]

Author: Cheriedreams
Title: So Let It Be Written/So Let It Be Read
Category: Everybody
Rating:YTEEN
Disclaimer: Don't Own Nobody
Summary: Just fragments from a dream I had one night when my mind was running amuck.


So Let It Be Written/So Let It Be Read

Inspiration! I was full of it. Imagination! Definitly on overload tonight. I sat at my keyboard and poised my nimble fingers above the keys. The scenes and characters for my story were bouncing around in my head impatiently. The plot was charted,the storyline crafted-the words whirled like dervishes and finally settled into paragraphs,italics and bold lettering just like I told them to. My creative juices were churning, my anticipation rising. But my muse was late. Where the hell was she? I tapped my fingers loudly on the space bar and waited. Finally,from the recesses of my mind she made her entrance, and gave me the signal to begin my tale.She positioned herself to guide me,carefully arranging the commas, the periods,the astericks and the flash sequences. She dropped dead in the middle of my first sentence.

I slammed my head against the back of the chair and cursed the Greeks for making it neccesary to have a muse. Why couldn't I have gotten a dancing one, or a musical muse? Yeah! I could have been a ballerina or a rock star. Stupid muse.


"Yo!" I heard the small voice say. `tap`tap`tap I heard on my moniter.
"YO!!" The tapping got louder. Better pay attention here. Something was definitly going on. I raised my head and stared into the screen. Tatooed and pierced,dressed in black and cocky as hell,he sauntered across the screen dribbling a basketball. Zan."I Am The Man" was staring back at me with that sly smirk of his we are all aqquainted with.

This was a dream,right? I decided to interact with it. Go with the flow is my motto.

"What are you doing here,Zan?" I asked.
"I's come to help yous," he said. "Seeing as how you killed your muse and all." He pointed to the lump that once was my inspiration and was currently toast.
"So," I questioned, "What can you help me with?"

He scratched behind his ear, flipping the silver ring that hung there. "We's characters, right? And all you peoples out there like to use us in your stories, so we's all decided to grant you the opportunity to look us over and decide how you want to use us."
Me? A chance to meet my favorite fictional characters? Way cool.
"Why me?" I queried. "I'm new to all this. I don't even know what I want you to do yet, or how you should interact. My plots and story lines aren't even formulated beyond a couple of short stories."
"Yeah," he replied-Yous our choice,cuz yous new. Most everybody else who writes us been doing it for a long time. So-how's yous want us? One on one or as a group?
Group? Group was good. But one on one tempted me. Especially where Max was concerned. Groupie? I could be Maxs' groupie. I"d just send Liz to the last page of my story and follow Max through chapter after chapter of the huge novel I was beginning to envision writing. But-- I really do care about Liz and Max needs her. Damn! The things we do for love. I decided on group.

One by one the major characters walked onto the screen. Max and Liz, Michael and Maria, Alex and Isabelle, Kyle and Tess, Valenti and Nasedo. Minor characters began to filter in and stood in the background. Roswell incarnate. Allowing me to get up close and personal, just watching me, waiting for my inquiries.

Where to begin? What to ask? Who's on first? Could dreams get any better?

"So,Kyle," I began-"Been bonding with Buddah lately? Trimming any lamps? Pillaging through Playboy?" Now,I love Kyle, he's witty and fun and most of the writers know this. He's the standby guy-odd man out.
Actually he gets a lot of women in stories. You know, the extra ones? The ones that get sucked into the alien abbys either by accident or design.
"All of the above." he said, with his quirky grin, giving me a thumbs up.
My assesment? Kyle rocks!

I studied Nasedo. Now he's a piece of work. A bad piece. Selfish and self serving. Doesn't have the capacity to love,but does diddle on occasion. Kills for the sake of his agenda. Piss poor example of a protector for our podsters. I only had two questions for him. "Hey, space scum, if you're so smart, how come you never found the kill button on the congresswoman's back? And what were those pills you used to suck down?" He glared at me with those beady little eyes,raised his hand lighting up my screen with that unearthly glow and morphed himself into my ex-husband. Jesus--he really is a scary bastard!

Valenti. Gotta admire his tenacity. Loyal to a fault, putting his career on the line, risking everything for the sake of the aliens we all know and love. Tortured by his Father's illness and unable to help him. Jim needs loving. No questions for him. Just a suggestion. Go grab Amy Delucca standing over there in the background. Take her home, eat some coconut cream pie. Get Frisky. Hug a hippie. Valenti's the shit!

Alex, sweet Alex. So unnassuming, so caring. He's died and been ressurected so many times that his appearences in stories give new meaning to the words"Ye shall live again." Musician and computer nerd. As much as I care about him, I wanted him to turn around so I could kick his ass. Fawning over Isabelle? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, comes to mind. I don't think he could have answered my question of why, because he really doesn't know himself.
Rest in Peace,Alex. Until the next story.

"Isabelle," I asked, "Why do I hate you in one story and love you in another one?" She graced me with her famous ice princess look. "God," she huffed-"Could you have asked a dumber question? It's because I'm flexible, interchangeable and always in control no matter where the writers take me." No arguing with that. "But you're such a bitch sometimes." I said. "Right, a bitch with attitude and I know how to use it.
Write this in your dumb story." she said, flipping me off. Naughty haughty Isabelle.

"I don't want to talk to you." Tess pouted. "Why?" I asked, somewhat taken aback. "Because you hate me. Almost everybody hates me. They call me bad names, like the tesstilence and they make me do bad things." she stomped her foot. "But you do all those bad things." I chided her. "You lie and cheat and scheme. You hurt people. You're evil."
She lunged forward and pressed her face against the screen, her blue eyes flashing. "Tell you what, lady, if I wasn't a fictional character, I"d crawl through this moniter and mindwarp your ass till you were comatose."
Max interjected quickly. "Tess, you're showing your true colors here, tone it down."
"Piss off, Your Highness!" she hissed. "This is my paragraph. Wait your turn."
She gave me a deadly stare and ran from the screen. "Run, Tess, run." I cried after her. "Find another story to skulk in, like the gutter rat that you are." That went well. My mind was still intact.

Candy Time! Maria Delucca. I"ve seen her described as perky, bubbly fiesty. A speaker of fluent motormouth. Queen of Quips. Constant chatterbox. SOOO coverup! I see her as an enigma. She's every teenage girl whose heart's desire just doesn't pay her enough damn attention , yet she's every world weary woman who ever waited for their soldier to come home from war. "How you holding up, babe?" I asked her.
"Working on it with a vengance." she smiled bravely and squared her shoulders. C"mon, authors, this girl deserves accolades. What if Michael Guerin were the cross you had to bear?

"Hey, Michael, how's it going?"I asked?" "Decent." was his reply.
Mikey G. suffers from a malady well known to women everywhere. The inability to converse. Chronic cryptic. A real terse verse is a curse kind of guy. Master rock buster. Snapple addict. Bad boy personified. Yet he's vulnerable and and has a heart. He just doesn't let anybody know it beats on a regular basis. When I read about the abuse he has gone through I wanna drag him in out of the rain and let him sleep in my bed.
I"m excellent at comfort.
But when he does leap over that stone wall, he shines. He can be kind and gentle. Even humble on rare occasions. And Maria truly is his center of the universe. Mud! Gotta think about mud here. He's Maria's bad boy.
Remember? Get on with your bad self, Michael.

Liz Parker-dream girl. Keeper of the journal. Acheived soul mate status the minute Max stepped off the bus in third grade. Gets first class tickets to outer space for the price of a kiss. Mother of his babies. Many babies. So many I've lost count but I adore them all. She's been shot, captured, poked and prodded. She's ran away to save him, came back. He's ran away to save her, came back. He chases, she catches. Vice-versa.
Her voice broke the silence. "Got a plan yet, any good ideas for a story?"
Sensible Liz-analytical and blessed with the uncanny ability to see the big picture in almost any situation. "Not qite yet," I told her. "Maybe you could make me a chart-you know-you could even color code it with the nuances of each character." "Good idea, I"ll work on that for you." she said and walked over to Max and attached herself to his hip. Lucky,lucky Liz.

On to Max. Now that's a thought. I"d like to get on Max. Owner of that luscious body I lust after in my dreams. Those soft lips and dreamy smiles. Eyes like amber aged by time. Speaker of the sultry voice whispering in my ear. Hands full of soft touches like the breeze that flits across my skin. WHOA! Back up Jack! I quickly rearanged my libido. Nasty thoughts-get thee behind me, I commanded.
"So, Max," I said in my best squeaky voice. "What do you like best about all the stories you're in? The adventures? All the places you get to go-things you get to see?"
"Nookie." he mumbled as he nuzzled Liz's ear. "The unending abundance of nookie." He was blazing a trail of hot kisses down her neck heading straight for her cleavage.

Shit! They were going at it hot and heavy right on my computer screen, oblivious to everything around them. They're famous for that. I slammed my open palm against the monitor, breaking the spell. Once I had their attention,I hollered "Snap out of it! You're melting my icons."
And it was true. The icons were sliding down the screen and bouncing up and down on the task bar.
"Sorry about that." Max said sheepishly as he waved his hand and returned the icons to their proper positions on the desktop. "Gotta go now"-- His breath was heavy as Liz tugged on his arm and they hurried off to find a story in the NC17 section.

My screen went blank, and my mind followed. I woke up bleary eyed and desperate for coffee. FanFiction. Feeding me fairytales. Nourishing me with novels. Satisfying my craving for stories. Weaving me worlds of wonder with words. Don't you just love it?