Author's Note: blah, blah, blah. I don't own So Weird, or the characters
this story contains. I just own one comet pillow and alien wallpaper.
blah, blah, blah
Only the craziest of teachers assigned ten page papers the week before Christmas vacation. Or perhaps the meanest, 16 year old Fiona Phillips hadn't decided yet. Of course, it was barely the weekend, and she was already finished. Which was probably a good thing. Ryan was arriving tomorrow. They would have three days together, and they were flying back to Hope Springs together, where Ryan was spending Christmas wit the Phillips/Bell/Thelan clan. Yep, the whole extended family, Fin noted with a grin.
She reached to save the document, when a window announced she had a InstaMessage. It was Annie. Of course, Annie was always messaging her with her problems. She said hi, and quickly sent some websites, which should answer the questions. Something about changelings. And she reached for a disk. And she popped it into the computer, and clicked open.
"Ah, 'tis good to be rid of those nasty confinements, Little Duck."
"You!" exclaimed Fi. "What do you want?"
"Want? Nothing. I just wanted to be let out of that imprisonment, Little Duck, which I am now. So, I thank you. And now, I shall be on my merry way."
"Wait!" Fi called, her voice spiraling towards the disappearing ball of light. She recognized him, or it. There was no mistaking the Scottish accent. "You knew, er know, my family, right?"
"You could say I know their acquaintance. Why?"
"We're different. The O'sianions."
He sighed. "Yes. You are different."
"Fi? Whom are you talking to?"
Fi turned from her computer, and towards the direction of the voice: her door. It was her aunt Melinda. Fiona had to admit her aunt was cool. Not only had she taken in her teenage niece, but she was allowing the niece's boyfriend to spend three nights, (alright, so he had to sleep in the guest bedroom, but still), and had allowed her to paste alien-designed wallpaper in her own bedroom.
"No one. Just to myself. Homework," she added, as if that was explanation enough.
"Well, tell your homework, you'll have to finish this conversatiuon later. Dinner is on the table."
Fi smiled. "I'll be right down."
"Alright, but you only have five minutes before I send Maggie and Miranda after you."
Fiona mocked her hanging, at the hand's of er twin tornado cousins, dragging her to dinner, and talking a mile a minute. Melinda laughed, and thundered down the stairs as silently as she had climbed them.
"I have to go," she apologized, turning back to her computer.
He nodded. "You have not closed every door, Little Duck. Just the only one you knew. Read your magic book sometime," he disappeared, only to return. "And Fiona Phillips, my name is Bricriu."
He disappeared again. Fiona waited a few minutes, but he didn't return. She quickly saved her document, and ran a hand through her hair. And reminding herself she needed her bangs trimmed. Maybe she would do it after she showered.
"Bricriu," she muttered, and turned toward her bed. There, nestled among the simple periwinkle comforter, was the comet pillow Ryan had given her for her birthday. But she had always thought it looked like a certain spunkie, and had named it so.
She smiled, and ran down the stairs towards the twins' chatter. Now she, again, knew the spunkie's name.
Now, she knew, she may still have something of what she had lost. Yes, it would be a good Christmas this year.
Only the craziest of teachers assigned ten page papers the week before Christmas vacation. Or perhaps the meanest, 16 year old Fiona Phillips hadn't decided yet. Of course, it was barely the weekend, and she was already finished. Which was probably a good thing. Ryan was arriving tomorrow. They would have three days together, and they were flying back to Hope Springs together, where Ryan was spending Christmas wit the Phillips/Bell/Thelan clan. Yep, the whole extended family, Fin noted with a grin.
She reached to save the document, when a window announced she had a InstaMessage. It was Annie. Of course, Annie was always messaging her with her problems. She said hi, and quickly sent some websites, which should answer the questions. Something about changelings. And she reached for a disk. And she popped it into the computer, and clicked open.
"Ah, 'tis good to be rid of those nasty confinements, Little Duck."
"You!" exclaimed Fi. "What do you want?"
"Want? Nothing. I just wanted to be let out of that imprisonment, Little Duck, which I am now. So, I thank you. And now, I shall be on my merry way."
"Wait!" Fi called, her voice spiraling towards the disappearing ball of light. She recognized him, or it. There was no mistaking the Scottish accent. "You knew, er know, my family, right?"
"You could say I know their acquaintance. Why?"
"We're different. The O'sianions."
He sighed. "Yes. You are different."
"Fi? Whom are you talking to?"
Fi turned from her computer, and towards the direction of the voice: her door. It was her aunt Melinda. Fiona had to admit her aunt was cool. Not only had she taken in her teenage niece, but she was allowing the niece's boyfriend to spend three nights, (alright, so he had to sleep in the guest bedroom, but still), and had allowed her to paste alien-designed wallpaper in her own bedroom.
"No one. Just to myself. Homework," she added, as if that was explanation enough.
"Well, tell your homework, you'll have to finish this conversatiuon later. Dinner is on the table."
Fi smiled. "I'll be right down."
"Alright, but you only have five minutes before I send Maggie and Miranda after you."
Fiona mocked her hanging, at the hand's of er twin tornado cousins, dragging her to dinner, and talking a mile a minute. Melinda laughed, and thundered down the stairs as silently as she had climbed them.
"I have to go," she apologized, turning back to her computer.
He nodded. "You have not closed every door, Little Duck. Just the only one you knew. Read your magic book sometime," he disappeared, only to return. "And Fiona Phillips, my name is Bricriu."
He disappeared again. Fiona waited a few minutes, but he didn't return. She quickly saved her document, and ran a hand through her hair. And reminding herself she needed her bangs trimmed. Maybe she would do it after she showered.
"Bricriu," she muttered, and turned toward her bed. There, nestled among the simple periwinkle comforter, was the comet pillow Ryan had given her for her birthday. But she had always thought it looked like a certain spunkie, and had named it so.
She smiled, and ran down the stairs towards the twins' chatter. Now she, again, knew the spunkie's name.
Now, she knew, she may still have something of what she had lost. Yes, it would be a good Christmas this year.