Mimesis by ThePekingNoodle

Dear Gentle Readers;

I have taken a break from Reaching for the Moon because it has been pointed out to me that I run a serious danger of being stereotyped as a writer of popular fan fictions designed only to appeal to the sensibilities of the ordinary reader. In short what I have been doing will only qualify me to someday be regarded as a Nora Roberts of fan fiction. (ThePekingNoodle recoils in HORROR at the thought)

Now, since it is my lifelong ambition to be regarded in the ranks of such serious and intellectual writers as James Joyce and Norman Mailer, and since fan fiction on the internet is clearly the best path for reaching such exalted ranks, I am presenting this piece for your perusal and consideration. As well, I have been told that it is my responsibility to write this in demonstration that I am capable of "thinking out of the box" and of pursuing higher literary goals in the face of stifling societal bourgeois ideas of morality and propriety.

So herewith my attempt to be ground breaking, freethinking and creative.

WARNING: The following may be detrimental to the mental health and well being of those reading it so if you are of faint mind or squeamish stomach or just plain don't like out of character stuff, please refrain.And above all do not send me reviews telling me that the work is out of character and out of sync. (rolls eyes --do you think I don't know that already? If I cared why would I be writing this?!!) Characterization is not at issue here. Literary flights of fancy and lyricism are the point. If you don't get that you are clearly a Neanderthal and I have no interest whatsoever in hearing from such a cretin. FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION is the working phrase here. Learn that and use it please. It excuses all. (Man what a great discovery! Rubs hands together…)

And a special note to a concerned mom. How dare you expect things to be marked so that you can attempt to monitor your daughter's reading!! Don't you know that parental guidance is passe? Thirteen year olds are perfectly capable of reading and understanding all kinds of adult oriented material on their own and without being disturbed by it in the least. I recommend you start your daughter immediately on a reading course heavy on the graphic sex (all kinds and forms) and violence. You need to harden her to the realities of life and the world. After all she is thirteen already. Shame on you for not starting this at age ten or younger. Then you wouldn't even have to worry about censoring what she might read. Do you want her to grow up thinking that sex is anything other than a physical act ? You can't possibly think that genuine and realistic emotion should be involved in it? What century are you living in?

Okay, enough already from me…on to my literary masterpiece. (Note this is not a story - it is literature. Remember that, so that I do not have to take my keyboard and beat it into your heads.)

ThePekingNoodle

(BTW do you think I need a new penname? I'm worried that this one doesn't exactly lend itself to a serious writer such as I now aspire to be.)

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Takes place after Designate This

Logan was depressed. Duh you say. I mean first the woman he loved dies in his arms. Then he spends three months putting up with an annoying blonde bimbo and moping over his loss. Not to mention that awful haircut and glasses the writers had inflicted on him. To top it off, when his one true love, his soul mate, had finally returned to him, dark and mysterious in the dead of the night, she had been infected with a deadly and devastating virus. (How was that for lyricism? Not what you had in mind? Darn. PN) Not only could they not get down to those X-rated activities that he had been pining for ever since she had informed him about her unique hormonal phases, they couldn't even touch or he would suffer a painful and torturous death. (The way he figured, a heat phase was about due to hit her and he should have been the panting and grateful recipient of it this time around. Man oh man...). It was enough to depress any self-respecting red-blooded American male.

Max had left him to search high and low around the globe for a cure to THE VIRUS. She had likened it to a heroic quest of old. One of the ones engaged in by those fairy tale princes. (Logan had a sneaking suspicion that the aforementioned heat phase had hit, and she was going out of town to avoid him finding out about her methods of satisfaction of her uncontrollable urges.) But no, how could he doubt his true love. She was faithful and true and cared only for him. And might never return. She had said she wouldn't be back without a cure. If said cure didn't exist that meant she'd never be back. He was no dummy. He could read between the lines. After all, he was nothing if not a sensitive and caring guy. Why he even could cry if needed. You had to be a sensitive and caring guy to do that. (At least he thought he could cry. He'd never actually tried but all those fanfic writers said he could, so it must be true. He pushed aside thoughts like wimp and pansy. He was a literary character after all. He would rise to the occasion as needed.)

Bling came into the room where Logan was seated on the couch after their workout.

"You miss her don't you?" he said gently.

Logan looked up to see the sweat gleaming on Bling's ripped and torn muscles. His skin looked blue black and was shining like ebony in the soft glow of the apartment lights. Logan wasn't sure why Bling had removed his shirt. Maybe in sympathy with Logan's exertions which Bling had watched and counted out? (Or maybe just to satisfy those fanfic writers who seemed to love to write guys sans shirts?) Logan shrugged to himself.

"Yeah, I miss her." Logan said shortly to Bling. Duh.

Bling sat next to Logan and put an arm around the back of the couch. He looked deep into Logan's eyes.

His dark eyes were pools of ancient wisdom and knowledge. Logan found himself drowning in them. He was aware of Bling's musky masculine scent. He was aware of his own physical needs. Let's face it, he'd gone without for months preceding Max's death, and he refrained while she was gone, even though the blonde had been there, waving her tail in his face daily. But how much could a guy take? It wouldn't be loyal to Max to satisfy his masculine needs with another female. But maybe with another guy? That was the ticket. It must be. It was logical right? Logan suppressed his innate distaste for such a course of action.

He was a man of the twenty-first century after all. Bourgeois notions of sexuality were surely not for him.

Logan reached over and pulled Bling's head down to his. Their lips touched. In seconds he found himself lying back on the couch.

"Ouch," he said rubbing his chest where Bling had shoved him. Logan gulped.

"What the hell, man? You know I don't swing that way. I got a hot woman at home. You finally lost your mind?" Bling was towering over him.

Logan sat up. He groped for an excuse that Bling would believe. "Um no, sorry. For a minute I thought you were Max."

Bling stared at him. "You thought I was Max? Man, are you dehydrated or something? 'Cause you ain't making a whole lot of sense here." He turned to leave. "I'm gonna forget this ever happened. Go drink some water and come down from your delirium." The door slammed behind him and Logan sighed.

So much for that.

(Damn. I thought I had it. The lyricism and eroticism were really starting to flow. Don't you think?Hmmm. Maybe another character. Yeah Bling was a bad choice. Too headstrong. Okay. Hang on. PN)

Moments after Bling left, the door opened and Alec walked into the apartment. The handsome X5 was the epitome of GQ model style masculine fashion. Every hair was in place and his clothes were neatly pressed. Logan wondered how in the world a broke ex-soldier who worked as a bike messenger managed to present such a pretty image all the time. Damn writers. He needed to have a talk with them. He wanted his own GQ preppy image back. What the hell were they thinking of? No wonder Max had left town. He would too if faced with such a picture of scruff as they had turned him into. He made a mental note to tackle that next. But now it was time to move on. His next victim, um, companion had arrived. Surely Alec would be the ticket he needed. He hadn't been raised like Bling in a world of small-minded morality. Anything would go for a thrill seeking Manticore super soldier. Logan frowned, trying to remember exactly why he was doing this. Oh yeah, his friend the Noodle needed him to. Something about her literary aspirations. Anything for a friend. Logan sighed and got to it.

"Hey Alec." He sent him one of his charming smiles.

"Logan. What's up, man?" Alec preened making sure to present his best side to Logan's view.

"I miss Max." Logan rose and strode over to stand next to Alec.

"Um, right. Despite the fact that she's a bossy, whiny smart ass?" Alec asked him. "Of course she is hot. Gotta give her that."

"Yep." Logan grinned, thinking of the catsuit.

"But still. I mean a man is a man, right. How long's it been for you man?"

"Too long, Alec." Logan revealed.

"Tough. You know maybe you oughta think about someone else. You know, just a fling. Who knows if she's ever coming back. You gonna wait for her forever? "

"I think you're right, Alec." Logan looked deep into his eyes. He reached out and slowly put his arms around Alec, drawing him to him. He felt the other man's strong muscles rippling under the sleeves of his designer sweater. He smelled his spicy hair gel and his cologne. He felt the floor hitting his hands as Alec shoved him roughly away and he fell on his butt.

"Hey man. I'm for the ladies. What, you think because I was a soldier that I play those games? Civilians. They see one stupid movie or read some dumb book and they think they got it all figured out. Here. Take this. " Alec was shoving a cardboard square at Logan who took it.

"She's a great therapist. Really helped me with my self-esteem issues and stuff. Give her a call Logan. If she could straighten up my selfish and screwed up perspective on life, she can help you." Alec was gone, leaving Logan sitting on the floor with a business card in hand.

Doreen Masterson, Specializing in Self Esteem and Sexuality Therapy 886-3425-99987

(Okay ,what is it with these characters? Why are they doing this to me? How can I ever be a serious writer if I can't get this thing written? They don't do this to the other writers. PN takes a deep breath. I will not give up. My literary career is on the line. One more try. This one will surely work. PN)

Once more Logan's door opened. He really did need to do something about building security. Amazing how they let everyone through without announcing them. Just the other day a Jehovah's Witness had made it up to Logan's penthouse. He shuddered. It had taken him accepting handfuls of pamphlets and making a solemn promise to read them to get rid of the witness. Of course the pamphlets might come in handy if he ever wanted to roast marshmallows. There were certainly enough to make a respectable fire. Hmmm. He needed a fireplace. Note to writers -- please take care of.

"Hey, Logan." Joshua boomed.

"How are you big guy?" Logan asked the canine transgenic.

"Miss Little fella" Tears were in the big guys eyes.

Logan was sitting back on the couch and he patted the space next to him. Joshua sat down.

"Can't paint, no one brings me Little Debbies. Joshua is lonely."

"It's okay big guy." Logan hesitated before making his move. Joshua was like a child mentally. Would this be considered child molestation? Nah. Anyway maybe it would add an even more edgy appeal to the avant garde effect the Noodle was looking for. He wondered if she would invite him to the ceremony where she received her Pulitzer once she became a well known and acclaimed author. She damn well better after what he was doing for her.

Logan put his arm around Joshua's shoulders and petted his hair. It reminded him of petting his dog when he was a kid. Same texture and even a similar scent. Hmmm. Joshua let out a growl deep in his throat. A soft one. Logan's dog had done the same thing when he liked the petting he was receiving. Encouraged, Logan put his hand under Joshua's chin and gently turned his head to face him. He stared at his face. There was a unique kind of beauty to the transgenic's features. A sense of a creature who was not quite of this world. A fierce looking monster with a loving and gentle soul shining in his eyes.

Logan ran his hand over Joshua's broad chest. Joshua had been silent up to now but he pulled back slightly. "Logan wait. Joshua has to check on something."

He didn't appear upset. Good, maybe Logan could get this over with and get back to brooding over Max.

Joshua was reaching into his overalls. He pulled out a book. It was a children's book. The title was It's OK To Say NO.

Logan groaned to himself. "What you got there, big guy?"

"Little fella gave it to me. She said I should read it just in case I ever need it."

"Right. She was absolutely right. Look, Joshua, I have to do some work now. How about you take a box of Little Debbies and head back home. Max left some in the cupboards here. I'll arrange to send some more over to you soon. "

Joshua beamed and put his book back into his pocket. "Thanks, Logan." He gave Logan a bear hug that left him breathless and soon was merrily on his way, a Little Debbie stuffed into his mouth.

(I have had it. It's this damn possessed keyboard of mine. It has to be. I didn't want to do it, but my literary career is on the line. It's time for the big guns. If you don't have a strong stomach and an open mind , you better bail now because I'm not pulling anymore punches. PN.)

This time Logan walked over and locked his door. Friend or no, he needed a break from this. Anyway there was no one really left. Not unless you counted (shudder) Sketchy or Normal. Surely even the Noodle couldn't expect that of him.

He was in his computer room at his desk when his door was thrown open with a bang. Logan turned to see Ames White standing in the doorway. White looked dark and dangerous. He had his perpetual open-mouthed scowl that Logan supposed some might find sexy. (Who he didn't know. Bad dental work had never appealed to him).

"I'm here to solve your problem, Cale." White snarled. "That so called friend of yours had the nerve to blackmail me. She threatened to turn me into a misunderstood but inherently sweet good guy. So take off your shirt and get over here. Let's get this over with. I'm going to make you feel like you've never felt before. You'll never be satisfied with a woman once I'm done with you. Eroticism and perverse sexuality are my thing, Not to mention a bit of Sado-masochism thrown in for good measure."

Logan stared at the man who was positively exuding menace in his doorway. Friendship warred with instinct. Instinct won. Instead of taking off his shirt he pulled open his drawer. He took out his gun and shot White square in the forehead. White fell to the floor, dead as a doornail.

Just then Max appeared behind White. She glanced at the dead familiar, but then advanced on Logan with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"Max. You're back." Logan stammered.

"Yeah. Heroic quests are damned boring and uncomfortable. Anyway, I figured it out. "

"Figured what out?" Logan wanted to know. "By the way White's dead."

"I noticed. Thanks."

"No problem. I know you have a thing about guns so..." Logan said modestly.

"So anyway I figured it out. THE VIRUS is a stupid plot device. The writers made the damn thing. They can fix it."

"Yeah?"

"Logan, use your head. Your friend the writer, the Noodle or Potato or whatever she calls herself. Tell her to fix it. The show is over, they can't stop her. She fixes it. We get it on. She gets to write some smut for her fans, and everyone is happy."

Logan smiled. "Yeah, she owes me after what I went through today for her. You listening, Noodle?"

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AN: So much for my literary aspirations. I guess I am doomed to being a second rate pop writer who will never garner critical acclaim and praise for their creative and erotic flights of fancy. Oh well. I tried.

Now ,I better go fix that stupid virus for those two. Oops ,guess its already fixed ,judging by that trail of clothing and the moans coming from Logan's bedroom. Good. Now I can get back to the Moon.

By the way anyone know of any exorcism spells that might work on a possessed computer keyboard?

ThePekingNoodle