Author: Gold Mustang
Characters: Methos, An Unknown Writer (Me? Of course not!)
Rating: K+
Archive: goldmustang live journal
Authors notes: I'm sure this type of story has been done before. I apologize. Methos wouldn't let it go. Under 500 words.
The small room was dimly lit. The only light came from the computer screen and one desk lamp sitting on a side desk. Maps and charts covered the side desk. Books littered the top of the computer desk, every surface covered with opened reference works. Shelves full of books lined the walls of the tiny room.
She sat typing frantically. Her hands began to ache. The deadline was day after tomorrow, if she could complete this part tonight, she just might make it. There, success, she saved the file.
"What are you working on, still trying to find information about Methuselah?" a quiet male voice asked from behind her.
"Methos, " she cried, startled. " How did you get in here? What are you doing back? I told you to go away. I don't need you now."
"But, you do need me. I'm 5000 years old, I'm important." Methos sounded indignant.
"No, I don't need you, not now." She glanced at the clock. Oh, it already was morning. Three hours until time to get up, oh well, who needs sleep? She pushed her chair back, but was suddenly too tired to move. She leaned back in the chair, her head resting against the high back.
Methos said quietly, "It's him, isn't it. MacLeod. You've chosen him instead of me."
"He was there," she replied. "The assignment is Andersonville."
Methos came into the light of the monitor, "I can help, I know all about it. I'm a historian too you know. I was in the States during that time."
"I have to write about Andersonville. MacLeod was there. I need him, not you. I'm sorry," She tried to explain.
Methos smiled. "I'll just be here in case you need help with research."
"No," she said firmly. "I have everything outlined. You are not going to show up now and take over. Not this time. Nope. Out you go. Now, Methos. Don't make me get nasty."
"Ooh, is that a promise?" He asked, voice hopeful.
"No, it's a threat." She said as she stood. She turned and pointed a finger under his nose, "If you take over this story, I'll have someone take your head in the next one. Now, GO!" She woke with a start. Her head was nodding over the computer keyboard.
She saved the chapter she had been working on, and closed all the files. She looked at the clock, midnight, seven hours before she had to get up. She remembered the dream as she stood. Every fanfic writer's dream, a character comes to life and tries to help you write a story. The desktop wallpaper picture smirked as she turned off the monitor.
Oh, gods, what a nightmare!