Hey there, everyone. I'm not sure where the heck this idea came from, but here it is, anyway. If you like it and want to hear more, feel free to tell me and I'd probably be glad to keep going if you guys want. The title of this fanfiction, by the way, is a reference to the song It's the End of the World (And I Feel Fine) by R.E.M. Anyway. Not sure why I wrote it. Here's hoping nothing's misspelled or gamatically failed or OOC, because it's 3:00 in the morning (and two minutes!) and I may possibly be a bit crazy at this point in time. Enjoy!
And I Feel Fine
My watch went off and the world ended.
Okay, lie. The whole world didn't end. Just mine. The annoying beeping meant that I had to get up and go to school. And now you see my dilemma. I sat up and opened my eyes. There was a tiger on my bed. I groaned. Still half asleep. I closed my eyes, rubbed them a bit in a very cliché but usually effective way, and opened them again. There was a tiger on my bed. Heaving a massive sigh, I ignored what was probably just the last remnant of a pleasant dream I could no longer remember and got out of my bed, wondering why I was wearing my school clothes from yesterday. If anything, I decided, I'd just been doing my homework and had fallen asleep. Good. That made sense. Now what school did I go to again?
I walked out of my clean white bedroom, even though I distinctly remembered it being messy and blue, nearly tripping on my suitcase on the way out. Half of my mind wondered what it was doing there. The other half ignored it and went back to sleep. I wandered down the hall, smoothing my blonde hair out over my shoulders as I went. Trying to figure out why I'd gone to sleep with my shoes on, I found my way to the table, sat down, and yawned out a sleepy, "Hi, Chase."
Wait, say huh?
I blinked, looked around, and then tried again. "Bloody hell!" I screamed, toppling my chair over backwards in shock as I dropped into some butchered rendition of a fighting stance I'd learned off of Xiaolin Showdown, my favorite show. "I'm in…you're at…we're…I'm gonna be so late for school!" Oh, dear God, what was wrong with my brain? Being late for school was a good thing!
Chase Young didn't exactly look nervous. "Are you done?"
"Dude! No! I'm in your house! At your table! On your…no, wait, I knocked the chair over. But it's the thought that counts, you know? And, hey, this explains the suitcase. And why I'm in my school clothes. Wait, you kidnapped me in my school clothes? You can't do that, it's humiliating! Look at me, I look like a freak! Look at the skirt, Chase, look at it! My grandmother used to have a skirt like this!"
"Heather."
"My grandmother's dead now. I never met her, though, so no harm done. So I don't really know if she ever had a skirt like this, but I assume-,"
"Heather."
"And don't get me started on the shirt! Have you ever worn the exact same shirt every day of your life, except weekends, for seven years straight? Well, the exact same shirt that you didn't like. Because, trust me, when I say I hate this thing, I am making the understatement of the year. Of the decade, even. Hell, of the entire ten thousand years of freaking darken-!"
"Heather!"
"Sexy say wha?" I asked snapping out of my freaked out daze. Then I froze, and went back into it. "Oh my God. You know my name. How do you know my name? Have you been stalking me? Wait, you're awesome, PLEASE tell me you've been stalking me! Jeez, it's like a fanfic gone crazy or something! Have you ever seen a fanfic gone crazy? Trust me, you do not want to see what happens when some screwed up author goes and decides to write a story about…" Thank God for life-saving murderous glares. Shaking my head to clear it, I picked up my chair off the ground, sat down, crossed my legs neatly, and politely said, "Go on."
"Good. Now, assuming you know who I am-,"
"Uh, yeah." I said in a valley girl sort of accent. "Chase freaking Young."
He ignored me, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. "Now, as for why you're here, you've been writing," he paused and made a slight face, as though he was thoroughly disturbed at the word he was about to say. "fanfictions-,"
"Myu!" I gasped out, whatever the hell it meant. "That was one time! One story! And it's your own fault for getting all stalker-ish around Omi in Season Two, anyway!"
His eye twitched. Now, I'm not really sure if it was because he was annoyed or disturbed, but if I were him, I'd be both, I have to admit. I shut up and zipped my lips. Hand motion included.
"Your fanfictions," he repeated, again looking as though he hated the word. "have a tendency to come true."
"Like I'm seeing the future?" I gaped, genuinely confused and for once in my life silent. Well, nearly silent.
"Not quite. Like you're writing the future."
I stared at him for what had to have been at least five full minutes, and you could've heart a pen drop. Then, I said the only thing I could manage. "Bloody hell." How did that phrase get into my vocabulary, anyway? I was from Washington, for God's sake. "Couldn't it be the website, or the computer? Or, you know, just a coincidence?"
Chase leaned forward. "Heather, the things you write concerning those of us involved in the fight for the shen-gong-wu-,"
"What about an OC?" I interrupted, an idea forming in my mind. Catching his look, I explained. "Original character. Non-canon. Fan made. I've never done one of those before." After all, I'd mostly just been working on continuing the series from Time After Time, among one or two other things. "Or something that changes the past? Or…" I visibly paled. "What about an experimental uh, alternate universe, romance fic with no ties to the series except the characters? Or, maybe, if I were to do something silly like write a fanfic where…everyone was in…high school?"
Looking a bit sick (and who could blame him?), Chase answered, "Of the things that you've written, the only one to come true has been your continuation of the...show." Awkward. "However, your past work would suggest that as long as you write something so that it happens in the direct future, it will."
"So an OC could happen if I wrote it right." I nodded slightly, feeling a bit evil.
"Presumably, yes. I've also noticed that your stories tend to be…darker than our past experiences."
I shrugged. "Ah, maybe a little. Not my fault the Xiaolin warriors are so fun to mess with. What can I say? I'm true neutral. I go both ways." Okay. Not the best wording ever. "Anyway, I learned from the best."
"And that would be…?"
"Joss Whedon. Who else?" Of course, I was fully aware of the face that Chase probably had no idea who Joseph Hill Whedon, born June 23, 1964 in New York City was, but that was beside the point. I did, and very much so, and that was all that mattered. "Yeah, not important. Moving on. Let me just get this straight. I'm here because you want to harness this power I have for evil, right?"
"When you put it that way…exactly."
"And what if I refused?"
"Then I would have to kill you."
I grinned. "There's the Chase Young I know, love, and occasionally ship with various characters." I looked around. "Is my laptop here?"
"Of course."
"Brilliant." I rolled my eyes for a moment, staring at the ceiling and thinking hard as my idea from before took shape and grew in my mind. "By George, I think I've got it." Chase snapped his fingers and I tried not to squee at his superior awesome. One of his tigers appeared carrying my laptop and, after inspecting it carefully for tooth marks or drool, I opened it, turned it on, and cracked my knuckles. "Tell me Chase. Have you ever heard of a Mary Sue?"
So, yeah...