Pre story notes: As one explores the possibilities of interaction between characters in fiction and themselves, one must remember that the difference between being there, and writing about being there. The biggest part of this is dialogue. When writing, you have time to think about your dialogue, to fine-tune it, make it snazzy. In a real life situation, unless you're a master improv speaker, your dialogue will have terrible flow. Your spontaneous jokes ill thought out. Your best-crafted witty commentary little more than a stack of popsicle sticks. Conveying your true thought process and responses are difficult at best. It's best to go through and repeatedly ask questions of yourself over and over, and answer them, then craft those answers into the story. I'm going to try and remember to think about it as I go about my work here, but it's not a priority for me. If you hit actual dialogue that seems way to eloquent… chances are I DID sit there and think about what to say for quite some time.

Let's continue where we left off.


I admit this about the five-planet structure in a dimensional pocket that is Washu's lab. If I were to phrase it like Douglas Adam's 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy', it would go something like this.

"The Guide has this to say on Washu's Laboratory…

Don't get lost!

It would be prudent to bring a navigational aide of some kind with you. GPS would be useful, except you're in a pocket dimension, and there are no GPS satellites from which to receive a signal. Dead reckoning would also be advised. But near as anyone can tell, there are no stars in the sky above the planets. A map might work. But we're talking about five entire planets. If you were to carry maps around with you of any accuracy whatsoever, the resulting amount of paper would make even Vogons blanch. See VOGONS for further details. Your best bet is a guide, preferably a one Hakubi Washu. Barring that, wandering aimlessly with Mihoshi Kuramitsu might get you where you need to go, or result in your eventual starvation. Flip a coin. Be wary of what you touch however. Many seemingly innocent inventions lying around this lab can be classified as weapons of mass destruction on par with Drunken Scottsmen attempting to Yodel. Use extreme caution, and touch nothing unless instructed to do so."

The snark crossed my mind as Washu lead me through the lab. The door itself was probably the best tool in the entire place. It appeared when she wanted, and lead wherever she wanted to go. The scientist/goddess/pick a term watched me with an amused look after we passed through it the first time. Even limping as I was from my foot, I couldn't help but walk around the side of the door and look at it edge long while she peeked half way through. Freakin' Cool.

The other stuff lying around was also in the 'Freakin' Cool!' category too. Er… the stuff I could identify a function for. I'm a geek at heart. I admit it. Technology is cool.

Being half-blind was still an issue, but I figure that since I really need my vision that clear to read, and that everything to READ anywhere around here would be in characters I can't read anyway, no loss.

Once I got over my nerdgasm, something that made the red head laugh outright. I was lead to a set of machines that looked like a funked out cross between an electrocardiograph, and a spectrum analyzer with vacuum tubes glued on for the 'Science!' look.

When I pointed that out, Washu assured me that compared to normal vacuum tubes, the energy contained in the equipment needed to perform a full diagnostic astral pattern scan would more than easily vaporize my upper torso if mishandled.

Being partial to my upper torso as I was, I simply nodded and filed that fact away. 'No touchy.'

At this point, Washu got down to business. While she hooked me up to the scanning equipment, she bombarded me with questions about who I was, where I was from, and what I did for a living. The stuff you usually get with a normal, sane introduction. Something I had distinctly lacked upon my unexpected arrival.

As I answered these questions to the best of my ability, I watched her reach out, and summon her infamous holographic laptop computer console. Again: Freakin' Cool!

When there was I break in the questions, I couldn't help but comment how I wish I had one of those at my beck and call. A 'holotop' as I called it, would be awesome.

The scientist took the moment to correct me here. The computer was actually not a holographic construct. Holographic imagery used light to create the illusion of a 3D object from a 2D projection in a medium. Her computer was far more complicated than that. The screen and panel were actually components of a very large computer system the size of an office building tucked away into a pseudo-space. The interface people saw as a 'keyboard' and a 'screen' floating in the air was actually managed by the selective use of dimensional tunneling. Much the same way her door worked. Paper-thin didn't even begin to come close. Technically, the panels were true, two-dimensional items. They had length and width, but zero depth so in practice it occupied zero volume. This provided the illusion of holographic imagery because you could technically walk through the location they existed in from any direction save face-on and pass right through it. If you looked at them edge-on, it was like they weren't even there.

All this talk of dimensional holes made me REALLY want to play Portal. I think I managed to surprise Washu just a bit when she asked me if I understood. Because when I responded: "Perfectly" she stared at me quizzically.

For the record: No, I am not uneducated. If being a geek didn't clue you in on that part, I have a Satellite Communications course under my belt. I may not be a mathematician, but I can visualize the concepts needed to understand the computer well enough. In layman's terms she's pushing buttons through holes in space-time. And she could move those holes anywhere she wanted. It's not hard to visualize it. If you can visualize a Looney Toons 'Acme Instant Hole', you're well on your way.

In fact, if memory served, Washu was prone to abuse the hell out of various versions of those dimensional holes. With the kind of convenience they provided, I would too. Dammit. Portal! NOW!

With the awesome technology conversation out of the way, and Washu now punching buttons and going through my vitals information, the hard questions began.

She asked me how I knew so much about her. Or rather, how I seemed to know so much about EVERYONE, based on the hint I'd thrown in for good measure.

Now, anyone who's had to visualize telling an important truth knows that while you're thinking it out, it seems so easy to word. But when you actually go to say it, the whole thing falls apart. How exactly do you go about telling someone that they're little more than a work of fiction? More importantly, how do you convey the fact that, as a work of fiction, you know every embarrassing detail about them to a mortifying degree of accuracy? Now try explaining this to someone of Washu's caliber without coming across as a blundering idiot.

I don't know how I managed it amidst stuttering and a number of false starts, but I somehow spit the explanation out as best as I knew it.

Washu did not seem happy. The reason was simple. Well, maybe.

"For all intents and purposes," she began. "Your explanation should be functionally impossible from my perspective."

I knew what she meant by 'perspective' there. Washu was one of three Goddesses who CREATED the universe I was currently an unexpected guest in. The perspective my story cast into the scenario that the entire universe they created existed as little more than a fictional reference to another universe that was beyond their power completely blew everything they understood out of the water. To put that in a clearer perspective, I just made 'God' second-guess himself… Herself… Whatever.

I decided to engage her in a quick debate about that point. I figure now that I'd divulged how I knew what I knew, the knowledge should be put to good use.

"Wasn't the whole point of your 'grand experiment' to find proof of a higher power of some kind?" I asked. "If that is the goal, then my presence and story provides further evidence of some kind of overlaying construct, as I come from a reality in which your presence does not extend. That should be solid proof that there is a bigger fish than the Choushin out there."

Man, that was a mouthful.

"It does," Washu began. "But such evidence has to be confirmed by a control. The dimensional shells house an absurd number of logical worlds within the universe proper. It is entirely possible that our 'story' as you describe it came into being in one of those worlds. Unless my sisters and I systematically sort through all of causality to confirm it, it's coincidence."

"I see…" I nodded. It made sense. Confirm findings first, and make sure they weren't just a fluke. "That sounds like a whole lot of work though."

Washu seemed to blanch at the very prospect. Obviously she didn't like the idea of sorting through all of causality any more than it struck me as a fun thing to do. It sounded like something that would take a lot of time despite taking technically no time at all. Try wrapping your mind around that concept. It pushes my brain just to visualize it. In fact, I was only understanding this conversation from the most fundamental conceptual level as it was.

"Obviously you have a better idea," I continued quickly.

The scientist perked up.

"Easy," she began. "I trace you home, we sort out THAT little corner of causality."

"Fair enough," I agreed. "After all…" And then I switched tones, trying to mock that voice you hear in movie trailers. "She's the greatest scientific genius in the universe. He's nothing more than a bog standard human. Together, they'll unlock the secrets of the cosmos and solve the greatest mystery of all time. When is LUNCH?"

I've done this quite often before, and nine out of ten times, I get a laugh out of it. It didn't fail me here either. My sense of humor is non-sequiter. People often view me as weird, but it's little more than the way I can connect the dots in my mind. As I watched, I couldn't help but smirk as Washu failed spectacularly at suppressing a fit of laughter.

After adding a few more 'movie trailer' comments to the mix, which almost got her laughing to tears, I decided it was starting to get old, and quit while I was ahead. Washu finally calmed down after a few seconds, checking to make sure she didn't hit any keys incorrectly before typing away for a few more seconds.

"Well," she began at length. "The verdict's in."

"What's the word Doc?" I asked in my best bad gravely southerner voice. "You can tell me. I can take it!"

"Well," she began, taking a deep breath to keep from breaking down again. "You're forty pounds overweight, your vision is poor, your blood glucose levels are below normal, and you have a sprained ankle. Aside from that, you're a healthy, normal human being."

Geeze, tell me something I DON'T know.

"Well your astral pattern is abnormal," she seemed to respond in a tone that was responding to my unspoken comment. Dammit, don't read my mind! It's rude!

"It's not in sync with this universe so you're certainly not from around here," she continued. "There's a lot of clutter to the pattern as well, I'm not sure what that's about just yet. I could probably have it sorted out in a few days. In the mean time…"

Washu stood up and reached through an instantly appearing hole in mid air (flippin' cool!) and pulled a syringe from it. I can handle a syringe. I don't like getting stabbed with needles, but you take what you have to. I took a bicilin shot one time, and it REALLY messed me up. Aside from feeling like the doctor just kicked you in the ass with a steel toe boot, it left my really jittery for several hours.

This however, was certainly not what I would call, the normal syringe. It was as big as my leg, and the needle had to be a foot long. It looked more like something you'd use on a MAMMOTH.

"Time for your shots," Washu smirked.

"NOT WITH THAT YOU'RE NOT!"

I couldn't help but spit that out the way I did. Technically, if Washu was going to do something, I wasn't in a position to stop her. But most people don't get a syringe the size of a fire hose stuck in their face.

"What?" she asked. I think that at the time I was missing the mirth in her voice. "It's just some nanites to help fix you up."

"It's bigger than I am!" I snapped in response.

"Oh don't be a baby…" she was absolutely grinning but I was looking at the monster syringe, not her face.

"Babies don't get stuck with giant needles," I snapped back.

"It's just a little-"

"WASHU!"

That did it. I'd gone and sounded like my dad when he was angry. My tone dropped a couple of octaves and I could feel my eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. It was an empty rage though, since that little part of my mind that still focused on logic was desperately warning me NOT to challenge a goddess to a fistfight. In retrospect, I probably did seem a bit absurd to her. But my tone got the point across. I'd missed her joke, and I didn't like the giant needle.

"Fine then," she huffed. "You big baby…"

With a deft flick, she tossed the oversized syringe over her shoulder, where it disappeared through an instant hole in space. In the same motion she reached out into yet another hole in space and pulled a more reasonably sized syringe. The surrealism of that each and every time it happened was enough to kick my anger out of the way in a barely restrained nerdgasm. That's just so fucking cool!

"This better?" she asked.

"What's in it?" I countered with a question.

"Nanites," Washu replied. "To fix you up."

"That's all?" I asked.

"That's all," she nodded back. "They'll fix up your foot, repair your vision, clean up your blood stream and help you burn off some of that flab and build muscle."

I blinked.

"The GP body enhancement treatment?"

Washu frowned.

"Not nearly that clumsy" she stated at length. "This'll have you in tip top form without all that absurd physical therapy in no time, since it will rewire your central nervous system to compensate. As a bonus, I have them programmed to teach you Japanese. I certainly can't let you walk around here unable to communicate with anyone, now can I?"

It was tempting, so very tempting. No more glasses? Insta-fit? A free language course? Epic awesome level up?! All for a simple shot? Damn life and it's catch twenty-twos… and DAMN MURPHY!

"Problem," I pointed out. Washu looked at me puzzled. Then closed her eyes and nodded.

"If you go home like that," she began.

"There'll be a lot of questions I can't answer," I finished. And then I sighed. Well that sucks. Who would turn down a chance to be superhuman? Well I have an answer for you. Anyone who still wants a normal life and doesn't want to turn around and try to explain the situation to the authorities and risk having NO life. I'm not so stupid as to think that being superhuman would allow me to just breeze by without consequences.

"Just give me the foot-fixer-upper doc," he I said at length. I've lived this log the way I am, it's not like I'm not used to it.

Washu sighed as well, and flicked the second syringe through a Washu brand instant hole, then pulled another one out, as well as a pair of glasses.

"Alright," she began. "Fix your foot. But I'm keeping the Japanese language programming. That's easy to hide. And you'll need to communicate."

"Fair enough," I nodded.

The scientist walked over to me, and made me stick my arm out as she prepared a bit of cotton and some alcohol. I did as instructed, but turned my head. I can watch open-heart surgery. I can watch guys get blown to gibs, and have their skin ripped off while EATING. But there are two things I just can't watch. People with traechectamies (holes in their neck), and people getting stuck with needles. Taking a deep breath, I did my best to relax my arm. If it was tight, it would hurt more. I need not mention my dislike for pain a second time. Focusing on a play of electricity nearby, I did my best to ignore the little prick of the needle.

"All finished," Washu concluded after a moment.

It turned to see her swabbing the spot off once more. Within a few seconds, I could feel my ankle suddenly get unusually warm.

"Now," Washu began at length, handing me the glasses. "Your foot will be as good as new, if not better, in just a few hours. Go easy on it, and don't go leaping down staircases."

"I don't plan on it," I nodded. Really, I don't plan on it. So long as nobody's trying to kill me, you wouldn't catch me bounding around like an idiot with a hurt foot.

"As for the language course," she continued. "That works slowly. It'll take several days before it really catches on. Within a few hours, you should be able to pick basic phrases up with little effort. The program wires your synapses the way you would learn in real life in order to avoid altering your mental condition. You'll learn to understand what you hear faster than you can speak it and both of those faster than you can read or write. So give it time. By the end of the week, you should be fluent as a native speaker."

"Hopefully I'm HOME in a week," I pointed out. Washu shrugged.

"I'll see what I can do," she continued. "I'll also have to figure out how much temporal displacement occurs. Separated universes are not synchronized. I'm sure it would be a scream to put you back in the late Jurassic period."

"Funny you should say it like that," I chuckled.

"So anyway," Washu wandered over as I tried to get used to a PERFECT prescription in a pair of glasses. "Who's your favorite?"

Wait, what?

"What?" I asked.

"You described our world as simply fiction," she continued. "Everyone has a favorite character. So who here is yours?"

Did she just… Yes, she did. The little minx just asked me who of the group I liked the best.

"You little…" I began. "You have an ego the size of a galaxy."

"The Local Cluster," she corrected without missing so much as a beat. "I've been keeping track. Now spill."

I'm not the wittiest, or the fastest conversational mind in the west, but I know how to throw someone off track. All you have to do is find the obvious wrong answer, and pick it.

"Kagato," I responded. I swear, Washu almost jumped back...

"K-Kagato?" she asked. "You're picking HIM?"

This was actually funnier than it appeared when you think of this in perspective. It's not every day you get the chance to get a goddess to have a look on her face like the one Washu had now. I wish I could snap a photo. Yeah, I have my fun.

"A good story needs a good villain," I continued. I was of course, lying that Kagato was my favorite character here, but he was up near the top of my list of favorite villains. "And Kagato was one hell of a villain. Pragmatic, ruthless, clinical... Technically speaking, for a villain, he executed a near flawless performance."

"I… see." Washu was dumbfounded. It made the look that much more entertaining. "I guess I can see where you're coming from."

I probably spent another hour just going into geek mode, chatting away with Washu about her family, and the perspective I had on them. Before long though, she decided to send me on my way. I think if anything, I successfully made a friend. And as ludicrous as it seems to normal every-day human logic… Having the greatest scientific genius in the universe and a goddess that had created it as a friend was definitely what I would call a good save to a bad start.

But I know I can't keep bugging her while she had work to do. And from the way she sounded, getting me home was going to be a lot of work for her. It would be best if I wasn't in the way. So out I went. Back into the regular house. It was still early morning, and from the looks of things, it was Sasami cooking in the kitchen with Noike. Everyone else had apparently gone back to sleep for a few more hours once the excitement had calmed down.

As I thought about this, I wondered. Of all the people I saw. Someone was missing.

Then it hit me. Where was Mihoshi?

"Fuck."