What the French Call a Certain...I Don't Know What

Part 2

by Mary Christmas (unicorn_76010 at lycos.com)
8/24/02

Where we left off....

The silence in the room was deafening. I swallowed nervously and managed a tiny wave of my hand, even as I tried to melt into the wall. Oh, this was not good...not good at all....

And to continue....

No, not good. I continued to repeat that in my head, trying in vain to become one with the wall. (More tangible than the force *G*) I was also trying very hard not to remember that dream I had had the other night where Lestrade had come after me with a knife. It was no use. I turned pleading eyes to Jareth, but he seemed to enjoy my discomfort. Lousy Fae.

However, my fears were all for nothing, as I soon discovered from Lestrade's next word.

"Who?"

Jareth looked quite put out as he turned towards her. Then he looked at the others and queried, "Do any of you know her?" At their negatives, he frowned. "How odd...I could have sworn I gave you all memories of her...."

"I know who Mary Christmas is, you weirdo," Lestrade interrupted, "And that's not her." She pointed at me before continuing. "For one thing, Mary was a lot taller and had green eyes and straight blond hair. And she was also older, like college age. This girl doesn't look more than fifteen at the most. AND she wasn't..." Here Lestrade paused, then said very softly, "overweight."

I looked down at myself and then back up, but I didn't feel insulted. I was way too relieved to feel insulted. Besides, I heard that everyday from my mother and my brother. Not that they can talk mind you. Anyway, that sounded a lot like the description of Zaphan Leyos, a role-play character I had...interesting....

"I beg to differ, my dear Lestrade," Moriarty inserted.

"Oh, you're begging now?"

"She was much shorter," he continued as though he had never stopped, "though she had about the same girth, and the same hair. She also had bare, hairy feet. I recall that very clearly."

I bit my lip, this time definitely to keep from laughing. He remembered seeing me as a Hobbit? How odd....

"How odd," Holmes put in, "As I seem to recall she had a pair of wings and long red hair, as well as being dressed in some sort of diaphanous gown. I don't understand why neither of you remember it, as you were both there."

And that's a fairy godmother I made up for a Labyrinth fic. This was all getting just too weird....

Holmes' comment set off an argument among the three of them, with each proclaiming they had seen the real version. Austin jumped into the argument also, though I was pretty sure he hadn't ever seen any version of me as I hadn't written any fic with him and myself in it. Jareth looked as though he were about to explode, as watched them, and then tried in vain to get them to stop. That only pulled him into the argument.

I won't go into what they were saying as I couldn't really make it out. Mostly because I was sick with relief that they hadn't believed that I was really Mary Christmas. All I knew was that it was about me...er, Mary Christmas. I looked over at Dr. Evil and Mini-me. The former was watching the argument, a frown forming on his face, while the latter was sound asleep. He was even snoring.

Dr. Evil seemed to notice my attention, stood up and walked over to me. He looked me up and down, the frown still on his face. Then he tilted his head to the side and asked, "What does all this have to do with anything?"

I just shrugged, not knowing what to say. I'm really pretty shy when it comes to talking to people, despite the way I've written myself in certain of my stories. Dr. Evil nodded in response to my shrug, and then leaned against the wall next to me.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Uh huh."

He nodded again. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

I frowned and looked over at him to gauge if he was serious or not. "Um...no....should I be?"

He looked back over at me incredulously. "You said you knew who I was, and you don't fear me?"

I began to giggle nervously. Okay, this was getting even weirder by the minute, even as I tried desparately to come up with something to say. I mean, maybe he wasn't that fear- inspiring, but it's not a good idea to tell the man that when he's right there beside you. Things could get ugly, and it looked like it was going to if I didn't hurry up and explain myself.

"Uh...well...I thought you were good now...." Yes, sadly, that was my brilliant idea. Amazing what pressure can do to a brain already suffering under the severe stress of writers' block.

Again, he gave me an incredulous look, this one accompanied by a bit of pity. "Oh you poor thing. A little lost, are you? No? Got a headache? No? Amnesia? No? Then how on earth could you think I was frickin' good!?"

I winced at the volume of his voice, and mumbled something beneath my breath that I won't repeat here. It wasn't very nice. Then, I took a deep breath and said, "In Austin Powers in Goldmember, you became one of the good guys because you found out you were Austin's long lost brother?" My voice lost volume as I went, trailing out so that it was very soft, and ended on a question at the end. I hate it when people stare at me like I'm an idiot...

Dr. Evil frowned a moment, scratched his chin, and then grumbled. "All I asked him for was a decent picture about me. And what does he do? Makes me Austin frickin' Powers frickin' brother. Mike is in big trouble now."

I blinked and shook my head. "You're Mike Myers' muse?"

Dr. Evil frowned again. "Muse? What's a muse?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came forth, seeing as how the argument had finally finished and they were all glaring at me. I really should have been paying more attention to them than to my scintillating conversation with the weirdo from Belgium. I knew from the way Lestrade was looking at me, that I probably was not going to live much longer.

"Why should we help her with writers' block?" Lestrade hissed out, "especially if it keeps her from writing such such...trash!"

"Oh, so you do prefer Holmes to me, do you baby?" Austin asked, looking quite miffed.

"I do not prefer anybody! Can't you people get that through your thick skulls!"

Jareth raised his gloved hand and glowered at Lestrade, who simply glowered back. I got an idea in my head right then and there, and had to stifle yet another giggle. This was simply not the time. And Jareth was actually talking about helping me? There had to be a catch there somewhere, and I said so. Well, I would have if I weren't so terrified of what was going to happen to me.

On to part 3!
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