Of Stories, Finals and the Book of Dreams

by Sky22

Life ain't easy when you're a fanfiction writer. You hardly have any time left for yourself. You think you're all alone, relax, even begin to drift away in a well-deserved nap - and then WHAM! Some ignored character wants you to put him, or her, in a story. And not just any story - it has to be a COOL story. Now each and every one of us has a diferent idea of what cool means. For instance, Kitty loves adventure stories involving her and another guy. Preferably Kurt or Lance. As far as Logan is concerned, 'Cool' is anything that has to do with blood, cut off limbs and generaly that kind of stuff. Ask Wanda, and she'll tell you something dark and spooky, like death. And the list could go on and on.

Don't get me wrong. Being inspired all the time isn't a bad thing. But it really gets on your nerves when everyone thinks you're a writing machine.

And this is kinda what was going on about a week ago, just before my finals began.

[Fade in...]

"Come on, just a little ficcie? Five pages? Four?"

"Nope. Not gonna do it."

"How about three?"

"No."

"Two?"

"No!"

"One? Come on, half a page?"

I sighed. "Todd, look. In case you didn't notice, I'm busy."

"So, make it a quick one!"

"Todd, no. I've got finals tomorrow, I'm not even half done with studying, my head's killing me, and unless you go and take a shower now, I'm gonna need a breathing mask. Now go away."

"And if I take the shower, then you'll write something 'bout me?"

"GET OUT!"

Todd finally left, muttering some unfriendly stuff as he did so. I sighed with relief. Now. Back to studying.

Yeah, right.

"Knock, knock!"

I glared at the door. "Who's there?"

"Mary!"

Mary?! That didn't sound the least like a Mary. More like Barry. Or Larry, if you will. But definately not Mary.

"Mary who?"

The door opened, and Bobby Drake, alias Iceman, rushed inside. "Merry Christmas!"

"...it's not Christmas."

Bobby grinned widely. "Nope, but it could be Christmas! At least, in my little lonely heart it could - if you could do me one, little favor..."

"And that favor is...?"

Fist on the Top Ten Dumb and Unnecessary Questions - what I just said.

"Write me into a lil' story with Jubes. Come on, please?"

I groaned and shook my head. "Story...? For Pete's sake, Bobby, can't anyone see I'm busy?"

"You are? Oooh, sorry to have disturbed you then. Bye-bye!" With that, he left.

THe next half hour went on without any actual accidents - if you don't count Jean 'accidentally' falling off the roof - no idea what she was doing there in the first place. And then came the inevitable knock on the door.

"I'm not here, leave a message", I groaned.

"Ihaveasurpriseforyou."

Oh, right. Pietro. Well, I could always find time for him. After all, he is my fave X-Ev mutant of all times. He and Kurt. But don't tell Speedy that.

"C'min, but make sure nobody sees you, or they'll all come swarming down here."

In the blink of an eye, Speedy was all settled in my fave armchair, holding one of his hands behind his back. "Guesswhatitis."

"Dunno." And I honestly didn't have a clue.

"OkayI'llgiveyouaclue. Square."

"Umm... photo."

"Nope."

"Videotape."

"Cold."

"CD."

"Iceberg."

"Book."

"Warm..."

"Umm... gimmie another clue."

"Latestlegalobsession."

"...you're kidding me. You have to be..."

"Surprise!" Speedy yelled suddenly, rising a book above his head.

It was Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix.

"Wow! I've been meaning to get that for weeks! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" I was practically hugging him now. "Thank you!"

I still couldn't reach the book though. Incredible as it may sound, I'm even shorter than Shorty... umm, I mean, Speedy.

"I want my reward first", he said, now talking at normal speed.

"Name your price", I said with a smirk. "No, wait, lemme guess. A story."

Usually, Pietro wanted me to write something in which he either bashed Evan, won the NBA cup, rescued some damsel in distress - usually Wanda - or throwing pies in Magneto's face. Or Mystique's.

"Yup. I want it to be different this time. Let's say... a bit of romance. Between..." he bit his lip thoughtfully. "...you and me, for instance. And include a cat, a duel and Magneto-in-drag. And make it two pages long."

"More like, two pages short. No problem. And then you'll give me the book?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

I grinned evilly. "Oooookay."

[Two hours and five drafts later...]

As usual, the living room was packed with fictional characters, talking, eating, watching TV, playing cards, or just hanging around. Well, Kurt was the only one who was actually hanging from the chandelier.

"Quiet everyone!! I wrote a story!!"

As expected, any noise died down instantly.

"Now before you come after me with torches and scythes, note that this was Pietro's idea, so if you feel like eviscerating someone, got after him. Ready?"

"Ready!" everyone chimed in.

"Okay... here goes."

The living room - or what was left of it - looked like Hiroshima after the nuclear bombing in 1945. Torn pillows lay everywhere; a shoe was hanging from the chandelier (Kurt almost fell at that), and anything made out of wood had been eaten down to the last crum my the Pinkie Termites of Hell. A nice grey cat - formerly known as Raven Darkholme, or rather, Mystique - purred softly, curled up in a ball between half a vase and a bright red sock.

Suddenly, Eric Magnus Lensherr, survivor of the Holocause, Master of Magnetism and Mutanty's Saviour, burst in. "You'll never get away with this, Maximoff!" he shouted, pulling out his magical wand.

"Yes, I will", came the reply, as Pietro calmly drew out his own wand, then aimed it at Magneto. "Ridiculis!"

Poof! Suddenly, before him stood not the feared Master of Magnetism, but a scared, old man, dressed in a long, pink dress.

"Aaaaah!"

With that, Eric Magnus Lensherr flew through the self-repairing door for dear life. The door muttered some unfriendly stuff as it slowly repaired itself.

"Well, that went well", said Sky, a wide grin slowly spreading across her face. "Now, what say the two of us - celebrate?"

"You're on." Before she could say anything more, Pietro wrapped her arms around her and pulled her mouth to his, into a long, oblivious kiss...

Silence, then a thunderous laugh. Pietro smiled, "Well, you're outdonned yourself." He handed me the book, "You're earned it."

I was practically bouncing up and down with excitement now. "Thanks!" Then, I gave him a little kiss on the nose, and after that ran to find a place to hide, before either Magneto or Mystique could get their hands on me.

[Much later...]

Question.

What does a 15-year old shorty do the night before her finals?

Answer.

Reading Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix in the basement of her house.

Why the basement?

Because, after an unpleasant encounter with Magneto, it seemed to be the only safe place to be. The door was made of wood.

Why Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix?

Hello-o, reality check? I'm HP-obsessed?

There. Was that hard? Nope. Easy as Pie.

I just came across a passage where Draco Malfoy makes a really nice entry. Draco in custom-tailored robes... *Dreamy sigh*.

I have no idea when I fell asleep. The thing is, suddenly everyone was shaking me, shouting, "Wake up! Finals!" over and over again.

*Sigh*.

Reality sucks.