Hello,

Those of you that know me understand my complete lack of practice in all things linear. I truly wanted to write a serious fic for you. Something that would delve the utter depths of the soul and leave anyone who reads it, a more educated, significantly better human being for doing so. A fic that would challenge social conformity, and bring about world peace….or at least the much undermined marshmallow peeps shaped like Thanksgiving turkeys….



Okay. THIS is soooooo NOT one of those fics.



I’ve come to terms with the knowledge that I am not normal. (gasp) Nope. I will never be the kind of person who can see the envelope sitting there and keep my hands off it. Darn it. I have to nudge the envelope…even push it a little…possibly SHOVE it a couple of times back and forth over the table until it gets really toasty warm under my fingers.



If you are reading this for coherent thought, or even cool, babbling wit… STOP. This fic is not for you. There will be no frank discussions on the meaning of the dormant light bulb over the protagonist’s bed in here. Mindless fun resides beyond this point. Grope if you will….



Feedback is totally welcome. If you like it…or you don’t like it…I’m open to constructive criticism…so long as it’s …you know…constructive… As anything I write, everything means something…or nothing…and sometimes it’s a little of both.



This story begins where many stories do: In the middle. You are going to have to take for granted a few things.



1) This is a completely separate dimension than the current ‘real’ Buffyverse.

2) The characters of Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg do not belong to me. They are just here for the ride.

3) Take nothing seriously.





****

A Letter from the Studio Council:



We, The Demons That Be (the true power behind most of our poorly plotted television line-ups and quite possibly EVERY reality show on the market these days) Have found the characters of Willow Rosenberg and Tara Maclay far too High Risk for their current primetime show slot. In order to rectify this, we are proposing that they be reinstated into some other series on another channel …portraying totally straight, and thereby highly acceptable, ‘non-inflammatory’ female lead characters.



We have devised a series of pilot television shows on various channels to test their theory (and oh by the way this merely bolsters our master plan of keeping Willow and Tara apart… I mean we ARE demons after all) of a more socially acceptable plotline for OUR girls. We think that at least one of these pilots will be a rousing success.



***But as the viewers at home know…nothing…and mean NOTHING keeps our two favourite heroines apart. Even in the vast abyss of abhorrent television drivel…they seem to find each other.***



And with that…we invite you into our late night viewing room:



The Cataclysm Café []



Blind lottery luck finds us tuning into:



Channel “ The Living Woman Network”



Story Pitch: “A small-town doctor gets a life lesson from the mysterious stranger who has been admitted to the hospital. It’s Dawson’s Creek meets ER…”





Pilot Episode: “ The Road to Hellsville”



Willa Rothberg swept down the corridor in a flurry of rustling papers and long red hair. Today she looked frazzled. The staff knew the hospital protocol for ‘frazzled’.



See Willa Rothberg….



Step emphatically and polite out of the way…



Make no eye contact if possible…



Slip into the shadows…



And if you are the unlucky bastard caught in a hall where there are no shadows… grab your pager off your belt, and knit your brows (important call coming in face) and run….run like hell…



Willa made a beeline for the front desk where Lois, the Lead Administrative Assistant in the mornings, steeled herself and held her ground as Rothberg bore down on her…red hair bannering behind her like a Viking goddess thundering down from on high.



“ Who paged me?”



No good morning. No how do you do’s… no questions about Lois’s four… or how ever many she had children. There was no time for that. She had a job to do, quite possibly a life to save. Pleasantries were superfluous… and someone…someone had sent her a page.



“ They just brought in a stray. Kind of on the rowdy side. Fought the Medics all the way through here. They had to use restraints.” Lois said, she used the art brevity, which Willa respected, but still…a tiny inkling of her felt that she was offending the shorter woman somehow…But now was not the time.



“ Which curtain?”



“ Three.” Lois said, handing her a chart. Willa flipped through it with mild attention to the details. She had all of several seconds to read about Miss No Name who came in with no ID, no apparent urge to speak, and no insurance.



Willa patted the counter curtly. It was as much as Lois could expect for gratitude. Lois watched her head down the hall. The med students and residents alike appearing to have a sudden rash of urgent pages in her wake.



Willa Rothberg, though striking and lithe, seemed to do nothing but work. If someone were to ask Lois what she thought, which no one probably would, she would have told him or her that Dr. Rothberg was an impeccable doctor. A genius even. But she did not have a happy or personable bone in her body. Something was certainly missing from her. Willa Rothberg seemed to have been expertly fashioned without the capacity to smile…to make easy-going banter, or to have a basic fear of anything…especially not failure.



They were still fighting the blond woman down onto a bed when Willa entered. Though the patient was not much taller than Willa was herself…at least not significantly so… she was giving two male nurses and a muscular young med student a run for their money. She thrashed her entire body from one side to the other, testing the restraints with swift jerking movements, and raised her torso to high for them to get a securing strap around her middle.



The whole scene seemed odd to Willa because the only sound that seemed to be in the room was the snap of the restraint chains, the bark of the bed railing as it precariously kept it’s place, and the grunts and sharp commands of the men trying to restrict her. Not a single sound emitted from her. Her expression was harried, but not frantic. Her smooth, features and honey blond hair seemed more appropriate to a Waterhouse painting than a hospital gurney. Her serene visage warred against her body’s actions. Her motions were insistent and methodical and completely within her control. Willa set the chart aside and nudged into the fray next to a perspiring male nurse. Still staying an arm’s length from the struggling woman.



“ This chick needs something to…like… put her down!” The med student panted, holding onto the woman’s leg.



“Let’s see…Three men are trying to pin you down…you’re confused…possibly injured…and unable to tell anyone how absolutely terrified you are…all the while hearing some jackass in the room suggesting pumping you full of tranquilizers…like you’re on a wildlife preserve… Don’t you think we should try something a little more drastic…” She hoped her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him.



“Like what?” It obviously had been lost on him.



“ Why don’t we all just take a few steps back…stop crowding our ‘guest’ and go from there.” Willa kept her voice low and soothing…it caught the attention of the patient who seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second in mid arch before continuing to strain against her captors.



The men looked at Willa as though she had grown an extra head.



“ Let her go???” The Med student asked.



“ Letting Go…as in…hands moving…coming off the patient and into respective pockets, or thumbs being re-housed in appropriate locations…” Willa said evenly.



Slowly…like their language translation processors were on some other time cycle, they stopped trying to push the young woman downward.



Even more slowly, like the woman could even possibly break the straps that held her, they withdrew their hands and stepped back. Moving together… like a dial-up Borg Unit…



The effect was immediate.



The woman stopped jerking against the arm restraints… she held them taut. The short chains that connected them to the bed railing quivered like loose guitar strings. She lifted only her head up this time, fixing each of the men with an accusatory glare.



You did this to me. It said.



She scowled at them, tugged at the wrist restraints again, and then craned her neck to inspect them. She seemed confused, as though she felt she should have been able to easily remove herself from her binds, and there they were…still on her wrists… Like the fact that she was still ensnared was unfathomable.



She lifted her gaze to the red-haired doctor. The sensible one who was not all hands, and unchecked aggression.



She was someone who could see reason. Someone who would let her go if she only knew….if she had an inkling of what was coming…



But she couldn’t speak reason. THEY had seen to that.



She was bound.



Not only by the restraints on her wrists, no…the leather and chain straps on any other occasion would have been consequential...laughable even.



No… Something more sinister held her. Something heavier than anything that these people could anchor her with.



They had taken her voice and her free will. Now she was left with nothing more than her fierce dignity…which seemed to be waning even as she felt the fight leave her.



She was tired…she wanted nothing more than to curl up…and pull her knees to her chest…and sleep.



Let them come…she was too tired to fend them off this time.



Let them come…



But she knew it would be worse if they had her. Time was running out. It was only a matter of time before they found her. Her best bet was to keep running…to find someone who could reverse the binding spell…



But to do that, she would need to be free.



Get me out of this. The look said.



Willa startled herself by not going immediately into action. She held off her usual clinical “hands-on” approach. And hung back as the young woman seemed to be pleading for her silently to let her free. There was something…something about her…something familiar….



“ I’m Doctor Rothberg…erm…Willa…” She said lamely.



Damn it…what is wrong with you? She scolded herself.



You’re acting like a fifth grader. Next you’ll be socking her in the arm and pulling her hair…



The blond creased her brow and made an emphatic eye gesture to her wrists.



It’s all right…you can be as lame as you want, Doctor Willa…but kindly undo these ugly bracelets…



If it were anyone other than herself, she would have thought the dove-faced woman had somehow entranced her victim to move forward and begin unbuckling the straps.



Willa Rothberg was not a naïve woman…nor was she stupid.



She was also not easily controlled. And yet despite all of these factors, she moved forward anyway.



“I’m unbuckling your straps. I have to warn you that we’ll have to sedate you if you try anything funny.”



The blond watched her patiently, quirking an eyebrow at her.



Don’t worry…nothing funny…not like I’ll be doing stand-up comedy any time soon…



“ Uh…Doctor Rothberg…do you think that….that’s…like…safe?” The med student inquired…taking a few steps out of harm’s way.



“ I’m going to say this once…” Willa said, working on the right wrist. “ I don’t care if you are from the very heart and soul of California…If you say the word LIKE one more time I’m going to…”



It was brief…the contact.



Merely a finger…a knuckle maybe…grazing the inside of the Jane Doe’s wrist…



It was electric. Knee-buckling even.



Willa’s medical training careened her through a slough of reasons for this occurrence….



Static? The conductive chains?…Metal railing…Anything to deny that there was….



Something.



Something that told her touching the blonde was the most wonderful, natural thing in the world. That everyone should do it…



…Well not everyone…



…Maybe just her….



…Just her and…frequently…yes…just her and a whole lot…



…On the other hand…



Something else told her that touching the blonde was fiercely taboo. That by doing so…she was upending the balance of nature…that it was dangerous…and this was basically because at the moment of the brief contact, the woman’s eyes widened. Her face paled….and she fixed Willa with a look.



It’s you. The look said.



Just before the lights went out in Willa’s world…





Commercial….



(Yes kids…it’s that time again….time to channel surf.. And YOU get to pick the channel…)



Television Guide:



Channel Two: The Living Woman Network



Channel Three: The SO-REAL Network



Channel Four: Must Flee T.V.



Channel Five: Pacific Tides Television



Channel Six: Flashbackland



Channel Seven: Futopia Channel



Channel Eight: Children’s Broadcast Station



Channel Nine: Nine West



Channel Ten and higher: Cable access (You need the silver cable package to view beyond this channel – coming soon…)

Edited by: wiccachica  at: 11/22/02 10:16:34 pm

Channel Six!



Oh, I do hope that my remote is working today.



Chica, awesome start! I applaud you, my cats applaud you, and Charo sends you a happy "cootchie!!"



Wheeeeee!



A new chica-fic in town... let the madness ensue!



Cheers

DW

OMG that was so funny!!



-Will

"Hear that baby? You're my always."

Wheee! Channel two! Channel two!

Or maby you could just continue on this one. I'm intrigued.

How about

The Buffy cast in "The Real World"

"Willigan's Island"

BTVS ala "Smallville". No, that would just be Buffy with more male homoerotic subtext...

"As the Hellmouth Turns"

"Surviver: Sunnydale". Hee! this is fun



Um, quick question. Not to sound like a spoiled brat...OK thats what I'm going for; What happened to Late Shift?

*comes running into the thread, breathless* Ah!! The Chica is Back!



Ooh, and a new story. Or new insanity, as the case might probably be.

Quote:

---

Grope if you will….

---

Oh, don't mind if I do. *grope grope* Oh my!



What a lovely, non-linear, bizarrely gorgeous start you've got here. So.. it's time to pick a channel... let's see... um... Channel Three. The So-Real Network. Heh.. sounds like fun.



Welcome back to the insanity, chica! *hugs chica's leg in a blatant attempt to keep her here*

"We've got the only librarian who can rip off your arm with his leg. People respect that." - Terry Pratchett

Chica!!

So glad you're back, and brought some MUCH needed insanity with you!!

I'm going with Channel 7, curious as hell!

BV

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin

Hi kiddiwinkies!



I missed you all so very much, and I'm awful glad to see you here.



I will do a rousing beck and call with my next installment (which I hope will be tomorrow... but these are a little longer than before...)



So now I'll go and write them in the order of the remote controls...I hear Channels 6, 2 (again), 3, and 7...



So stay tuned for the rerun pilot episode of "Entranced" on Flashbackland...



-chica

Edited by: wiccachica  at: 11/23/02 9:43:57 pm

Weird,but wonderful...I like !!

vive,valeque.

Okay…I guess it’s time for a little something different…but first…



DarkWiccan…as you had the remote first…so this one’s for you. I assure you…it had nothing to do with the fact that you sent me a Charo cootchie….ahem…I mean..that does not …affect me at all….a-hem…(wipes brow….)



Willntlover… glad you enjoyed it. I’m hoping that you get a real groovy kick out of this next one. I assure you there is not subversive subtext about the role of women in television…or the make-up artists and special effects over the years…just good… clean… fun…(.riiiiight).



Slowontheuptake…since you seem so stoked about channel two…we shall head there again…And as for The Late Shift…fear not…the grand climax is coming. Who knows how long it could take to end??? But you don’t sound like a spoiled brat at all…now…if you had stomped your little Dawnie foot and propped your little Dawnie fists on your hips…maybe….MAYBE….then.



LeatherQueen… I like you breathless. And as for the groping…I don’t mind that either…just keep it regulation. Heh. Thank you for the rousing welcome back to the land of non-vacation (lol that I’m heading out on Thanksgiving vacation again next Tuesday…and since my family does NOT inspire sexy stories AT ALL…this thread will resume on Monday the 30th with lots of pent up angst…)



Barnabasvamp… I’m honored to bring you much needed insanity. It’s my job…it’s what I do. And as for channel seven…let me just say it’s one of my favorite pilots…good choice…and it’s okay to be curious so long as you look before you leap….



Emily First... Thank you and welcome to the thread. I'm glad you like...I hope you continue to like...and I hope you may even laugh somewhere down the line. I've been known to have that affect of some people...but we'll see. This is definately a very...SERIOUS fic if I do say so myself. Enjoy.



And now for today’s show….



Channel Six: Flashbackland



Entranced



Story Pitch: If Bewitched and Our Man Flint had a secret love child…it would have been this show…



Pilot Episode: “ Zowie, Baby”



Welcome to the average suburban house.



The room is well lit and spacious. The carpets are the classiest burnt umber shag, and the furniture, save the 500 pound hide-away television cabinet, is tastefully decorated in a rustic wagon wheel motif. The walls, of course, are sienna beige, and the curtains are orange with bright green flowers. In the connecting dining room, the table is set with colorful daisy print plates and matching glasses.



A meal has been set for two. Orange candles flicker at the center of the table…



The front door swings open and an attainably handsome man in his early thirties sweeps into the house setting his briefcase down next to the behemoth television. He’s wearing a gray suit that looks like it was tailor-made for him. He removes his matching hat and hangs it on the coat rack. His hair remains meticulously combed over to one side with a razor sharp part.



“ Honey I’m home!” Walter Mackay shouts to the empty room. He stops to stand in the foyer listening for the familiar sound of dishes being set aside in the sink, and his beloved wife hurrying from the kitchen to greet her bread winner with open arms and a warm peck on the cheek.



He waits patiently.



“ I was about to call out the Calvary for you, Dear. You’re late!” Taryn Mackay says, breezing up to her husband and busing his cheek. She’s an eye-catching blonde in a comely blue dress with a barely modest scoop in the neck. Appropriate for most occasions…especially a candle lit dinner.



“ I was held up at the office. Alex wanted to go over a few more things on the Meyer Account. He and Winifred should be here any minute.” He kisses her forehead. “ You look out of sight, Baby.”



Taryn pulls away to look at him, her face lit with confusion.



“ You invited your boss to dinner?” She asks.



“ I told you last week they were coming.” He says firmly. Then thinks about it for a moment. “ Didn’t I?”



“ Okay…one…you didn’t… And two….TONIGHT is our anniversary, ‘Dear’. I made a special dinner…for us…the TWO of us…” She says.



He blinks at her dumbly. She rolls her eyes and completes her motion of completely detaching from his embrace.



“ You forgot…didn’t you?” She accuses.



“ I did. I completely forgot. I’m sorry…” He says hastily, sensing an oncoming onslaught of The Silent Treatment . “ I’ll make it up to you…I promise…TOMORROW NIGHT….but Alex and his wife are on their way over and I can’t just UN invite them can I?”



“ I guess not…” She pouts.



“ So why don’t you just…..” He makes a twinkling motion with his fingers in the air.

“… you know….zap up something for us before they get here.”



“ Like what???” She crosses her arms and looks at him incredulously.



You are soooo not going to ask me to do what I think you are….



“ Like Lamb…and carrots…and a salad…and maybe a mint sauce…and a little fondue…” He offers…all the while tugging at his tie and heading towards the stairs to go and change for dinner.



Taryn moves into the dining room and puts her hands on her hips, scowling at the table.



“ If I use (twinkles her fingers in mock of her husband’s action) to stop a disaster, or to get a cat out of a tree…. it’s an hour lecture on the do’s and don’ts of Magic Use. But when it’s for something YOU need….” She mutters to herself, rolling up her mental sleeves and preparing to cast.



“ What was that, Hon?” Walter calls from the landing upstairs.



“ Nothing!” She answers sweetly. She flicks her hand with very little ceremony.



***BLING***



Two extra place settings.



***BLING***



Salad. Croutons. Rack of Lamb. Mint sauce….



***BLING***



Fondue. Oh dear, sweet, heaven, fon-due. She shudders.





Just as she was about to bling up a pleasantly woodsy 1954 Chianti…



The doorbell rings.



“ Honey…could you get that!!!” Walter calls down from on high.



Taryn briefly considers zapping him into an alternate dimension for a few seconds, before heading to the front door where Alex Harris and his wife Winifred are standing on the porch landing.



Alex Harris is a mildly fleshy man in his mid thirties. He pulls off his hat to reveal perfectly combed hair and a wide Cheshire grin. He then immediately and inappropriately pulls her into one of his world-famous bear hugs. Lifting her off the ground and crushing her against him in a lascivious and yet perfectly disturbing manner.



“ Taryn it’s been ages!” He says gruffly, setting her down…allowing her to regain her composure, and smooth out her dress. “ This is my wife, Winnie. Winnie, this is Walter’s little woman. The one I told you about…”



“ I actually come equipped with the name Taryn, too.” Taryn says with a polite smile. The woman at Alex’s side laughs and simultaneously throws her red hair back over her shoulder with a deft grace that made Taryn do a …much more detailed double take of the feminine half of their guest roster.



Gorgeous.



One of those fashion-plate models you see in the Sears and Roebuck adds…even more so…



That wry smile, lighting up those emerald eyes. The slim, muscular body…



She’s wearing a white, form-fitting dress cut above the knee that reminds Taryn of a naughty nurse….or a dress-code-breaking stewardess.



And to top it off…a pearl choker that perfectly accentuates the graceful line of her throat.



Zowie.



What could she possibly be doing with a troll like Alex? The thought is fleeting, but insistent.



What should I care??? Comes the second thought…much more quickly than it should.



Benedict Brain! Zip it!



“ Can I take your coats? Walter should be right down.” Taryn offers.



She blanches inwardly as Alex removes his coat, and then can’t seem to look away as Winnie peels out of her own mini white jacket, revealing that her dress is not only missing the last three feet of hem…but the sleeves as well.



She takes their coats to the appropriate closet, and takes her time hanging them…hoping that her cheeks will lose some of the color that she could feel burning there.



What is WRONG with me???



She stands almost entirely inside with the coats for a moment.



Control….control…Think about ducks…pigeons…table legs….shag carpet…DOH!!!



“ Is there something interesting going on in there?” Comes a voice from just over her shoulder. Winnie is standing just behind her, amusement sparkling in her eyes.



“ What??? No…erm…” Taryn silently wishes she could zap herself right out of this mess.



She comes out of the closet and shuts the door.



“ I was checking for….erm….moths.” She slaps her forehead mentally



“ Moths?” Winnie smiles disbelievingly.



Taryn and Winnie lock gazes for what seems like an eternity.



Am I imagining it, or is Winnie Harris also hoping that this is a key-party dinner…sans the husbands…



“Why don’t you to have a seat. I’ll whip up some pre-dinner drinks.” Taryn offers pseudo-calmly.



“ That sounds great!” Alex says, flopping down onto one of the couches. “ Cognac for me, Dove.” He pats the spot beside him for Winnie to sit…totally oblivious to the fact that the two women are standing near the closet…gazes still locked.



“ Mrs. Harris?” Taryn prompts.



“ Winnie, please…” Winnie insists…eyes searching the blonde’s.



“ W-Winnie?” Taryn prompts.



“ Martini.” She says, breaking the spell between them by turning and walking over to sit on the chair near the fireplace, and not next to her husband. She crosses her legs.



“ Right…” Taryn heads for the kitchen to start drinks…



And splash a little cold water on her face…

“ Oh…Taryn…” Alex chimes in. Taryn turns to the living room…sure that her cheeks must be beet-red.



“ Yes?”



“ She likes it dirty.” He says.



Taryn puts her hand on the nearest counter to keep from keeling over.



“ W-what???” She stammers. Winnie dips her head down…hiding a silent, smirking laugh.



“ Her martini. She likes it dirty.” He clarifies…as obtuse as a brick wall beneath twenty feet of cement.



Taryn sighs explosively.



“ Oh…yes…sure…dirty…” She says before heading into the swinging kitchen doors.



Alex picks at a back tooth with his pinky.



In the kitchen come the sounds of clinking glasses and bottles….and running water….



“ You should go and give her a hand…” Alex suggests. Winnie blinks at him.



What could you have possibly been doing with a troll like him?



Winnie smiles, unhinges her legs, and gets up.



“ I’d be glad to.” She purrs. Alex nods…fixated on the tip of his pinky…at whatever it is he had treasured up from his teeth.



She walks to the swinging door, her stomach sending her a jumble of frayed messages…



Nervousness…and excitement…and a little something else…



Something about Walter’s wife seems…well…right.



She pushes open the door and sees Taryn Mackay leaning over the sink, washing her face. She reaches for a towel and blots her cheeks. Then she looks at the glasses on the counter…



***BLING***



One glass of cognac. For Alex.



***BLING***



One Scotch on the rocks. For Walter.



***BLING***



One glass of red wine. For her.



She reaches for the vermouth and vodka. This one…she wants to make manually. She doesn’t know why…but it seems…right…



“Can I help?” Winnie says from behind her.



Zowie.



Caught in the act.



Taryn turns to the source of the voice…her eyes as wide as saucers.



How long had she been standing there?



Winnie walks over and takes the Vermouth from Taryn’s hand. She sets it on the counter behind the shocked woman…making sure that Taryn realizes that Winnie keeps her arm there for a fraction of a second longer than is actually needed. Totally invading Taryn’s personal space. Not that Taryn seems to mind.



Winnie slowly withdraws her arm and smiles wryly. She brings her hand up between them.



And snaps her fingers.



***ZAP***



A very real…very dirty…martini.



“ Alex wanted me to give you a hand.” She says, taking a sip. “ It looks like you might need one.”



“ You j-just… cast…” Taryn says numbly. “You’re a….you’re… just like me…”



Winnie lifts her glass.



“More than our husband’s would could ever imagine...” She purrs. And sets down her drink on the counter….next to the Vermouth.





Commercial…



Stay tuned for Channel 2 “ Living Woman Network”….

chica;

You are sooo mean, just look where you left us hanging!!

This was great, and the Alex/Winnie business

BV

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin

The nonlinear structure of this story is very intriguing. I like the audience participation aspect too. I'm hoping you'll finish the stories, that we won't miss much while channel surfing. Can I use my TiVo? ;-) I'm also wondering if you'll weave the different stories together somehow.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

Darkmagicwillow...



You are a very clever young thing...aren't you??? (and I assure you that nothing shall be lost)



Stay tuned.



(wink)



-chica

"I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ
"Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?" --"Nympho." -The Pirate

Movie-
"If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya

come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

Wonderful! More wacky wiccachica fun for all.



Such a great concept - Kittens controlling television! Especially seeing as television viewing has become so dull.

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

Channel 2: The Living Woman Network



Pilot Episode: “The Road to Hellsville” Part two





Commercial End



“ No…I’m okay….really… I’m fine…. now GET OUT…” Willa told the med students for what she could swear was the one millionth time. They stood around her…watching her like a free peep show.



(Not that all of you little pishers didn’t get a Grade A thrill out of seeing me fall flat on my ass…)



They shuffled out of the room, leaving her sitting in the suture chair….alone….well…almost…



“ Ow…” Willa muttered up at her comrade, Frank Markson, a gray-haired man in his late fifties had an exceedingly steady hand and a sharp wit. The fact was…if she couldn’t patch herself up, he was the next best thing.



He tossed the iodine swab into the trashcan. “ Stop over-reacting…it’s barely a scratch.” He said sternly holding her chin while he examined the wound.



“ A scratch with a VERY painful knot under it, Frank…” Willa said as he dabbed at her head with gauze. In what seemed to be a sleight of hand trick, he fitted a butterfly bandage over the wound and was snapping off his gloves.



“ There you go. Good as new…bumpy…but new.” Willa reached up and tentatively touched the bandage.



“ I’m scarred for life…aren’t I?”



“ If you can even tell where it was in a month…I’ll give you twenty bucks.” Frank said.



“I’ll hold you to that.” Willa said, standing up. She did this slowly…like an elderly lady…not wanting a repeat performance of ten minutes ago when she had tried walking…and had almost taken a swan-dive into the linoleum.



It seemed…this time…that the dizziness had subsided.



“ So what happened in there?” Frank asked as he scrubbed his hands in the small sink.



“ I don’t know. One minute I was standing up…and the next I was looking up into your ugly mug.” He chuckled and dried his hands off. One thing about Frank…he saw right through her hard candy shell. He treated her the way a Great Dane regards a yapping Chihuahua…with a mild smirk…and very LITTLE seriousness.



“ How many times have I told you that defibrillators are NOT toys.” He said.



“ Ha. Ha.” Willa scowled his way and walked over to the small vanity sink. It didn’t look too bad. She fixed at her hair for a moment…



Thinking up lies takes time.



Time indeed.



“ I forgot to eat breakfast this morning. That’s probably it.” Fact was…she NEVER ate breakfast.



“ You had better get something on that stomach kiddo. Can’t have you sprawled out all over our floors. Bad image for the hospital…Plus I’m not going to spend the rest of my days patching you up, Red.” Frank said with a smile.



“ Yeah…I’ll go up the lounge right now.” She lied. She pulled on her coat and smoothed the lapel.



“ You look good as new.” He said…opening the door for her.



“ Thank you, Frank.” Willa said. “ See you later.” She moved down the short hall to the elevator.



If Frank would have stood in the hall a moment longer, he would have seen that his temporary ward was heading DOWN and not up to the lounge.



Down.



To the B Level.



Psychology.



*



“ Dr. Rothberg to see Jane Doe.” Willa said, and released the button on the intercom. She held her ID badge up to the window where a smiling orderly (who obviously knew very little of her reputation as a hard-ass) let her through the door.



“ Hi.” He said with all of his teeth…laying it on thick. Willa inwardly cringed.



“ What room is the patient in?” Willa asked briskly. She was in no mood to lob flirtations back over the net.



“ The drool pool. They soused her with something akin to horse tranqs.” He said….speaking indelicately of the room where they congregate the Psych. Ward patients.



Willa fought the urge to hit him. HARD. Despite her impeccable restraint…she felt her fingers contract into a fist.



“ Can you show me in there?” She asked through clenched teeth.



He led her down the hall and buzzed her through. Inside there were close to a dozen heavily drugged patients and twice as many sleepy looking guards. If not for the white uniforms…Willa wouldn’t have been able to tell the patients from the orderlies.



Willa searched the room.



There.



There she is.



The young blonde was perched quietly on an oversized window ledge, looking out through the grating on the windows. She gently plucked at the hem of her hospital issued smock.



Willa felt her vision swim as her heartbeat picked up it’s pace.



(What is happening to me???)



She stopped in the middle of the room…afraid to move forward…unsure of what she was doing there…and what she was expected to do. She had felt drawn to the ward. It was as though she HAD to come down here. HAD to see this woman again with her own eyes.



(Not a figment of your imagination. Just as real as you are…nothing frightening or mystical in the way she absently stares out the window…plucking at her clothes…)



Willa hadn’t moved…hadn’t made a sound…



And still the blonde turned her head to look at her as though she had been beating pans together and waving a day-glo banner.



“ She’s not the smartest turnip on the vine…but she sure is pretty…” The Orderly said over Willa’s shoulder. Much too close for comfort. It aided her in inching forward slightly.





The blonde put her feet on the floor, but did not immediately stand. She wasn’t sure she could…not with the amount of drugs they had pumped into her.



She was relieved to see the red-haired woman was not hurt badly. She had seen her fall…after they had made contact…and as hard as she fought them…she could not stop them from taking her down…



(Down into the dungeon…to this place where people’s souls seemed to be in limbo…waiting to find their bodies again…)



But she had been hoping…been CALLING for this woman…to come to her…and she had…



This woman…who stood there looking at her with inquisitive and confused green eyes…was LIKE her. And for that brief moment when they had touched…she felt like herself again. Like if she had held on…kept the connection a moment longer…she would have enough strength to keep THEM at bay. Maybe to have even get out of the mess she was in… But the drugs and the energy she was expending on beckoning her was incapacitating.



She would not be able to walk to Dr. Willa….but maybe…maybe she could get her to come within reach…



(Because I can’t stay in this place or I WILL go crazy. I need you to come closer, Dr. Willa….CLOSER…)



Willa saw the change in the woman’s expression…the desperation…she resisted the urge to move to her side and help her to her feet…which was what it looked like she was trying to do.



(I NEED you to come closer. I can’t stay here any longer…I just CAN’T …there’s a man here who thinks he’s a tug boat and a girl who’s a hero in her own fantasy world…in her HEAD…)



Willa steeled herself against the pleading gaze of the blond. She didn’t think she wanted a repeat of what happened earlier. The feeling had not been painful…not really…and not unpleasant. But there had been something dangerous there. Something shifting under her skin… Something she had no control over.



And one thing Willa prized herself in was her impeccable control of every situation.



(I NEED you to help me get away from here…before they get here…before all hell breaks loose…literally….)



Willa reached up and rubbed the insistent ache at her temple. She had come down here for something…something was nagging at the back of her mind.



(Closer…closer…closer…closer…CLOSER…)



Willa took a ginger step towards the blond…not quite sure why she was doing it.



(yes…closer…come here….come….here…) She was dredging up every last ounce of her energy for this last attempt.



Willa slid her foot forward…slightly…gritting her teeth against the need to keep control.



(Why is she resisting me? This isn’t the way it’s supposed to work?) She pushed herself shakily to her feet. She would have to take the initiative and close the gap between them. She felt her legs protest her stomach clenched…her vision roiled before her. (Now.)



She moved away from the ledge…half walking half stumbling forward…gaining momentum as she moved…desperate not to fall…She reached out.



((THWACK!!))



Willa blinked numbly as she saw the blond stand up and try to close the space between them. She was even more shocked to find that she had raised her own hand…to make contact…to close the circuit…



And she felt herself jolt in shock as the orderly stepped forward…intercepting the blond with a pistoned forearm to her upper chest.



He did not just send her to the floor…He sent her off her feet…and sprawling out on the floor.



Commercial…

Hehe..."and a girl who’s a hero in her own fantasy world…in her HEAD" referring to something there perhaps ?? I'm not sure what Jane Doe (or Tara doe ) is doing to Willa but it seems to be some low form of mind control, which really is not nice.



Orderly is kinda insensitive isn't he ? Guess that comes with working that ward long enough. Can't fault him much for interfering like that, esp. if he knew what happened the last time Willa touch Jane's hand..



Maybe they ought to meet when both of them are securely sitting down



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

Wow you set it in Insano-Buffy-World aka "Normal Again."

I wonder if Buffy has to be saved too. It doesn't matter but it was a cool touch.

I'm loving these and you have only explored two of the channels. The bewitched one is fantastic btw.

I have a feeling that you are going to leave so many cliffhangers at once that I will have a bigass Dawnie tantrum with much rolling on the floor with the screechy, screechy whining. And you will laugh like the evil person you are.

Wheee! More please.

I have to admit that commercials can be advantageous for bathroom breaks, but this is killing us!

Really curious about the power Tara seems to have.

BV

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin

I saw the thread, I read the name then I saw the Aunt Jemima icon thingie (too cute). My eyes buldged out. See? they're buldging! Chica, I'm off to read this as I KNOW I'm gonna end up laughing my ass off on this one! My gf's gonna have hold on to it til the laughing subsides. And speaking of funny fics, whatever happened to The Late Shift? Will the much needed wackiness continue? Will our heroine find a way back home? If she's still in the discotekka, will she want to?

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"...Tk's Heaven

---

"I've become really protective of her. I want to make sure if Tara comes back, it's for good reason." -Amber Benson
Tara ate her, devoured her from beneath. -The Edge of Silence giving new meaning to this season's catch phrase.
"Got it: that's a 'yes' to petals; a 'no' to pricks. I should remember that more often." -On Second Thought

So close...damn orderly! I wonder if the fantasy hero girl is a blonde too. More commercials? Where is my TiVo when I need it?

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

Tivo....snorfle...snort...laugh...guffaw... That was an image I enjoyed...thank you darkmagicwillow.



Grimlock72...Tara Doe...I like that. I guess I wasn't thinking of "Tara's" mind control as something of a sort of...suggestion rather than a controlling thing. I'll try to work up some nice calm chairs for our girls the next time we meet with them....nice cushy chairs...



Slowontheuptake...As much as I would like to save Buffy too...alas...she is just a fun little plot device to add a little depth to the tale. As for the cliffhangers...I suggest strongly that you find a nice comfy couch to hold onto to...cuz the cliffs here are rocky and numerous....laugh like the evil person I am...??? How did you find out that I'm evil? I thought I hid it very well....hmmm...



Barnabasvamp...Yeah...I know how EVERYONE loves a good commercial. I don't mean to kill you all...just mame...maybe traumatize...possibly make you cry and stamp your footsie.



Tkheaven...laughing one's ass off...that is a serious dilemma. What will you sit on? Will your girlfriend give it back...or will she just put it on a key chain for handy access? The Late Shift will be dusted off and worked on very soon...the troll merely needed ...inspiration. He thought he'd leave her in the disco for a while...it's truly not a bad view...wouldn't you agree? (oh, and I'm laughing about the Aunt Jemima thing...it's actually a snoring smiley with a night cap...but I think Auntie J is cute!!!)



Channel 3: The SO-REAL Network



Pilot Show: “Oak Avenue, CA.”



Show pitch: Five people stay six weeks in a rickety old haunted house. It’s “The Real World” meets “The Haunting”.



This season’s show takes place in a Southern California house.



Now…. Let’s meet the Contestants:





NAME: Tustin Ford



AGE: 29



OCCUPATION: Unemployed



[/b]WHY WE PICKED HIM FOR THE SHOW:[/b] Tustin puts the “vile” in volatile. He has no social conscience, and he basically can’t live with anyone who isn’t on life support. He’s a perfect fit.







NAME: Tara Mac Grueger



AGE: 23



OCCUPATION: Student



WHY WE PICKED HER FOR THE SHOW: She’s pretty much perfect in every way. Good grades. She even has a sweet and understanding boyfriend waiting for her back home in the College choir. We figured we needed at least one person on the show who couldn’t cause a controversial situation if it bit her on the ass.





NAME: Meagan Silver       



AGE: 24



OCCUPATION: Musician



WHY WE PICKED HER FOR THE SHOW: Every show needs a totally out there musician who is more wrapped up in their burgeoning careers to care about anything that’s going on around them….even when they are so untalented it’s painful.





NAME: Willow Rossman



AGE: 23



OCCUPATION: Student



WHY WE PICKED HER FOR THE SHOW: Computer geeks will rule the world one day. And all of the judges are pretty much suckers for a red head.





NAME: Alec Harrison



AGE: 24



OCCUPATION: Carpenter



WHY WE PICKED HIM FOR THE SHOW: When we interviewed this guy…we knew we could place bets on how many episodes it would take before he flipped out. He’s basically a time bomb chock-full of jackass shrapnel.







DAY 1: The Living Room



Willow is sitting in an overstuffed chair with a laptop propped on one leg…the other is propped over one of the arms. She is typing like a seasoned professional. Her red hair is pulled up under a pink fishing cap.



Alec enters the room and flops down on the couch closest to her.



“ What are you doing? God…I wish I could type that fast. Is that a Mac?” He asks in rapid succession. She continues to type…her concentration seems to hone in on the screen before her.



***



The White Room : This is the room where we get all of the juicy private feedback.



Willow sits formally in a wooden chair. A white wall is behind her.



Willow: “ Okay…It was totally weird to show up here with my luggage and see Alec in the house. Well…I guess you already know I know him…kind of. We went to high school together. I used to have… sort of a crush on him. I was YOUNG…very YOUNG…and now I honestly don’t know what it was that I saw in him. He’s kind of annoying…sorry…is that mean? ”



***



The Living Room



Tustin enters the room and heads straight for the connecting kitchen. Tara is sitting at the wet bar reading a book the size of a small Buick. Tustin rummages around in the refrigerator and comes up with orange juice. He looks at Tara and considers his next words carefully.



“ Would you…like to drink juice out of my mouth?” Tara looks slowly up from her book. Her blond hair is over one shoulder.



“ What???” She says incredulously.



“ Blondes have more fun right? I was just thinking you look like the type of girl that I would totally have a thing with…you know?”



“ Most girls you date drink out of your mouth?” Alec inquires with a little more interest than needed. He gets off the couch and moves to the counter. He looks at Tustin the way a young apprentice regards his master…reverence and awe.



“ Oh…hell yeah…Hey Tara…come over here and demonstrate with me…” He beckons her with a hand.



“ Thanks…no.” Tara says definitely. She closes her book and slides off the stool to make her way over to the couch. Willow looks up casually and smiles apologetically…then drops back into her computer world. Tara opens her book and tries to find her place.



***



The White Room:



Tustin sits backwards in the chair…rocking it back and forth with the fervor of an eight year old.



Tustin: “ Okay…that Tara chick is soooo hot for me. She’s playing totally coy for the cameras…You take some shots of her when she doesn’t know you’re looking…the looks she gives me…it’s like….f****ing kismet, man… Sure…she has a boyfriend back in poke-n-plum, Nebraska or where ever the hell she’s from …but I’m telling you…she WANTS me…she doesn’t know it yet…but I’m going to bring that one over to the Dark Side of the Planet Tustin…oh…yeah…”



***



The Living Room



Tustin is gargling orange juice for Alec and audience. The cameras switch from Tustin’s kitchen antics to Tara…who isn’t watching him at all. She’s got her nose in her book…and just before the camera is about to switch away…she looks up…and over to her red-haired neighbor.



Total kismet indeed.



Sensing that she’s being watched, Willow looks up and Tara drops her gaze back to her book swiftly….just barely avoiding being caught.



From upstairs comes the sounds of something dying….no…the sound of hell splitting open and evil pouring out…. Or perhaps an oboe at the lips of a totally untalented human being.



Everyone downstairs glances up at the ceiling.



***



The White Room:



Alec sits with one foot up in the chair.



Alec: “ I was nervous seeing Willow again after all of these years. She’s HOT though. I think she’s still got a little think for me. I figure if I play my cards right…by the end of the six weeks we’ll be like…a THING…”



He puts his foot down.



“ They say that the house is really something at night. I think I’m pretty ready for anything this place throws at me.”





***





Upstairs Hall 9:59 P.M.



Shot of the empty hallway.



A banging sound can be heard in the walls…The house seems to groan under a mysterious unseen weight. Every inch of plank and plaster protests with cracks and squeals.



***



The White Room:



Tara folds her hands in her lap.



Tara: ” The first night in the house was actually pretty frightening. The electricity in the house was all flickery and bad….and my candles were barely lighting the room. There were sounds coming from…EVERYWHERE…I definitely felt like something didn’t WANT us in this house. It was like this WEIGHT pushing down on you. Like ten-ton bacon press…and WE were the bacon. I held out for the better part of an hour before I finally decided to leave my room and find someone…ANYONE else in the house to keep company with…even Tustin would have been better than nothing at all…”



***



Tara’s Room



Tara slipped her robe over her shoulders and sweeps her hair up into a lazy bun when a knock at the door startles her.



She walks over to the door…and hesitates before pulling it open.



Willow is standing there in the hallway… with a candle.



Commercial…

chica, you astound me with your fetish for the bizarre. Loved these last three episodes!



I shall anxiously await your next update, to see where the madness leadeth us.

"We've got the only librarian who can rip off your arm with his leg. People respect that." - Terry Pratchett

Why does there have to be sooo many commercials.



This is a great idea!!!!!!!!!!!! Then again you seem to have many. Looking forward to all the shows. Thanks Ms. Big Type TV Person you.

heh, what kind of candle would that be ?? any guesses ??







Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

OK now chica....These commercials are getting a bit too close together

LMAO at the descriptions of the contestants. Your crazyness is definitely contageous!

BV

"In front of total strangers won't you kiss me, Flowers for no reason but you miss me - OOH, I wanna be in love"

Melissa Etheridge-Skin

Much fun. Tustin's proposition was funny, as was Alec's awe of him.



Looking forward to more zaniness!

---

I happen to think mine is the level head,
and yours is the one things would roll off of.

I am torn between amused, amazed or just plain scared. I've said it before and I'll say it again,

NIKKI, YOU ROCK!



Ruth

-----------------

Sugar Sweet Haven

http://sweetsugar7.hyperboards2.com

how does your brain work that way? is it the water? food? air? whatever it is -- i want some!! you totally rock!



ange

a lot of the time my favourite thing on tv is the commercials - any chance we get to see some of them?



oh, and I love the real world house - want more!

Edited by: jaycatt23 at: 12/6/02 7:29:10 am