So, long story short, this was a dream I had. From the point of view this story is in. I will add on to my dream the adventure part. I will point out where my dream stops and where complete consciousness and imagination do all of the work.

Disclaimer: It's fanfiction. No one on here owns the characters, or they would be making episodes about them instead of writing on here. Sorry about the rant, but on with the story!

A gentle breeze ruffled my long black hair. Lying back onto the soft grass, I shivered in the cold as I looked up at the stars. What a beautiful night. Not a cloud in the sky; the space seemed like an observatory! People should really take the time to look at things like this and really appreciate it. If not, they would never feel the sense of security like I did. The comfort, the wonder, the…magic. At ten years old, I understand things more than most kids my age do. For example, how people looked at my magic wand collection. Sure it looked stupid to those people, but they never took the time to find out why I had it.

Magic. Just one word. It was as simple as that.

Ever since I was about four or five, my parents always took me to these magic shows, where the magicians always pulled rabbits out of their hats. It fascinated me. I would waddle up to the performer after the show and ask. I always asked a lot of questions when I was little. He said to me, "Little lady, this is something that people like to call magic." "Magic?" I would ask. They would simply nod in response and walk off toward the crowds of people waiting to meet them. Well I wasn't going to forget about that anytime soon.

The second we hopped back in the car, my mouth was running a mile a minute. What was magic? Did everyone know about it? Was it a good thing? Then I asked the next important question on my mind "Is it really real?" Well both of my parents' cheery moods kind of minimized. My mother looked around nervously, "Well you saw the magician, darling…" "Yeah," Let's say I was kind of a genius when it came to common sense, "But it could have been fake." My dad turned the steering wheel, "Well the truth is, Honey, it was. Magic isn't really real. Many people want it to be, but it's not." I sighed in sadness and turned toward the window.

I still remember that day. My parents said it wasn't real, but I somehow didn't believe them. I mean, how could something so great, so wonderful, simply not exist? So I did major studying. Books and books. Hours of searching websites on the internet. Interviewing people. Whatever I was doing, it was going to get me one baby-step closer to finding magic. Nothing could stop me.

I remember some interviews from maybe a year or two ago. Most people in Dimmsdale said I was 'precious' for having such a goal after I explained why I wanted to interview them. But some people were…special. They knew something. I knew they knew. They knew they knew. But they didn't know what they knew. They said some of the happiest (but they liked using the term 'magical') times in their life went all the way back to their childhood. In fact, all of their happiest times were in their childhood. The weird thing was, everyone who said something about their childhood couldn't remember what was so great and 'magical'. They all said something like "My eighteenth birthday was by far my least favorite, heaven knows why…" Strange, no?

Meh, I think the fact they were no longer kids just bothered them.

But since they all said the same thing, it really made my thoughts spin. Really, people can't all have the same answers like that, or something that close, anyway. Unless there was a definite connection.

I stopped thinking for a moment.

Wow, I got completely off track. I mean, right now, I'm on the date I've been dreaming of having ever since 2 years ago. I was lying here, in the grass, with my biggest crush ever. Timmy Turner.

You might be thinking 'Why is he on a date with her? I thought he didn't like her back?' Well, you know what, I've been thinking the same thing all night. To tell the truth, I was surprised he accepted after I asked only the third time!

I shook my head and looked up at him. He hesitated before looking down at me with a bewildered look, "Um…Tootie? Are you okay?" I sighed a 'yeah, sure…' before turning away gloomily.

He gave me an unsure nod, and slowly lay down in the grass next to me.

"Why?" I asked unexpectedly.

He turned quickly toward me, "Why what?"

I felt tears come to my eyes, "Why did you agree to come?" He stared back up at the sky. No answer.

"Well, uh…"

There it was. The stuttering. He was going to tell me off. Easily, if I'm lucky. The tears were running down my cheek. I didn't care. He looked over and his eyes widened.

"No! Tootie, don't cry! Please! Please don't cry!" "Well then give me an answer!" I snapped. I was unable to hide my hurt and fury directed at him. He looked worried, "I came because-"

"Hey, Tommy!"

We both swiveled around furiously to face the direction the voice came from. There, standing there in all of her glory, was Trixie Tang. She smiled deviously at me before turning to my date.

"Wow, Tommy," she cooed at him, "You look so handsome in the moonlight!" I narrowed my eyes at her, "His name is Timmy. Gosh, Trixie, get it right." Well, she either ignored me or didn't hear me. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the latter.

I looked at Timmy. He had a smile on his face; one I did not like at all. He seemed to go weak at his knees when he said, "Wow, Trixie, thanks!" He sort of wobbled over to her, and basked in her glory. Tears. More were coming. I couldn't let her see; she would win.

Swiping furiously at my eyes, I choked out, "I gotta go, Timmy." And I ran. He snapped out of his trance too late, because by the time he started yelling after me, I was already halfway through the bushes that separated the park from the outside world.

Reaching my house ten minutes later, I ran inside as fast as I could. As clichéd as it was, it started to pour rain on my way home. It's not like I could drive or anything, so I had to walk the few miles. I flopped down on my bed. Looking up, I saw the giant poster on my ceiling. The one that made me dream happy dreams when I fell asleep looking at it every night. The one that made me smile when I woke up every morning. It had pictures of him all over it. I jumped up and grabbed the corner, tearing down the poster and everything taped to it. I rolled it up and shoved it under my bed. No need to explain why I didn't want to fall asleep to him staring at me, is there?

After taking a quick look around, I turned off the light and fell asleep.

*clank* *clank* *clank*

I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. The clanking continued.

*clank*

What is that noise? It sounds like someone was hitting glass! Like throwing a jack, or a bouncy ball, or a…pebble.

I sat up quickly and reached for my bedside table lamp. The room filled with light and the clanking subsided. I ran to the window. Yep, that storm was still going strong. Who's the idiot that would be outside my window, this late at night, in the middle of a storm this bad?

I opened the window, holding an umbrella, and looked out. There, standing there in a completely soaked pink hat and pink jacket, was Timmy Turner himself. He had a pile of small pebbles in one hand.

"Uh…hey, Tootie…" He looked away from me, dropping the rocks.

Question answered.