Author's Note: Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Sorry if I alienated anyone in the last chapter, I didn't intend to. I was a little over enthusiastic, I think…

Disclaimer: I don't own, no. But I found my FOP game! And no one cares…

Chapter Eight: Running from Lies

Tootie awakens with a pounding headache, but no Vicky screaming at her. In fact, she could swear there's no one in the house. Hmm…what's going on here?

Blinking and rubbing her eyes, she wonders if she, in fact, has been hit too hard. There cannot be a pink creature, frowning, floating above her. Man, she needs a shrink.

"Hello, Tootie," the creature addresses her, all the while checking her wand. All she can do is stare at her and wonder what the hell is going on.

"Um, how many blows to the head did I take?" Cautiously, she sits up but the creature pushes her back down. How she manages this is beyond her, because she appears to weigh nothing at all. So now she has a mythological creature giving her grief, wonderful.

"I'm not a mirage, sweetie. How else do you think you were placed upon the couch? Your sister?" Still smiling demurely, she settles down next to her head. Tootie wishes she'd go away- she's beginning to seriously consider her insanity.

"I'm dreaming all this…none of this is real…" Groaning, she seeks to turn over but her body protests too much. Everything hurts so much…

"I'm afraid not, sport." Tenderly, she places a hand on her forehead, to ensure she has no fever. The girl squirms, uncomfortable. Fairies taking her temperature? Maybe she accidentally ingested the gas fumes from her car…it does pollute a lot.

Sighing heavily, the creature smoothes her hair back and introduces herself. She only has a limited amount of time here, as evident by her continuous checking of the clock. Tootie understands- who would want to spend an extended period around her, other than to use her?

"I'm Wanda…I'm a fairy godmother of a person you hold dear to you. I can't say whose godmother I am, it's against Da Rules, but if you figure it out, don't say it either. I'm technically going through a loophole just to act as a semi honorary godmother to you, but, since T-, my godson is being his usual stubborn self, I have no choice," Wanda says, stroking her hair. Tootie feels tears rise to the surface but she swallows hard, determined not to allow them to show.

What good will it do, anyway, to start crying in front of her? Surely her tears have no real weight anymore, since she's spilt them so many times by now. And besides, this fairy, whoever she is, didn't come to see her break down.

But she deliberately let a little bit of her godchild's name slip. She's certain of that, as certain as she is that Vicky's little brats are causing a ruckus at the movie theater. This, hopefully, won't mean they get thrown up, but she's not getting her hopes up.

However,a half smile forms- Timmy's her godson? No wonder she came here of her own accord; Timmy would probably let her die rather than admit she needs help.

Unfortunately, the amusement she finds is quickly superceded by resentment. What makes his life so miserable that he has fairy godparents and she doesn't? Do they want her to die at Ricky and Vicky's hands? Insensitive jerks!

"Get away from me," Tootie spits and Wanda retreats a few paces. To her surprise, the fairy does not react as though she's been slapped; instead, she appears to have anticipated this. Damn her!

"I don't know why you don't have a fairy godparent of your own, Tootie. Fairy World sometimes, shamefully, has a habit of ignoring those who are in graver danger. They don't want to be liable for suicide or homicide…it's almost insurance for them. We need to be able to maintain a certain population or we'll perish."

"In other words, I don't have a fairy because they're afraid I'll kill him?" Tootie snaps, feebly attempting to fold her arms across her chest. Her arms lie listlessly by her side.

"Or someone else…fairy godparents become guardians in extreme situations. If they are the only ones in charge of a child who might kill themselves and the child does so anyway, they receive the death sentence, for failure to properly protect their child. That's why, for two hundred years, no suicidal children were assigned godparents. It was too risky for them…Jorgen himself almost got in trouble for indirectly causing a godchild's death," Wanda explains, longing to comfort her but holding back until she calms. She has fifteen minutes before Cosmo and Timmy notice her absence.

Fifteen minutes in Cosmo time, conversely, means the world to him. If it were not for another distraction, she probably would not have made it out here. Thank God for short attention spans and boys...

However, Tootie says nothing to this extraordinary statement. Her eyes slide to the ceiling, covered in little bits of Play-Dough and other crap Vicky's brats have thrown up there. She's going to have to clean that…some day…whenever she gets her energy back.

Lately, it feels like, no matter what she does, she languishes about. She can't muster enthusiasm for anything, even if it means the difference between eating and starving. Who cares?

"Vicky and the rest, under the pretense of free passes, are at the movies. They won't be back for a few hours, so I thought I'd help you as much as I can during that time. I can't promise miracles, nor can I do much in the way of big magic without being noticed by Fairy World, but I can, for instance, magically expand your closet into a room. It'll still look like a closet to everyone else, still, that's something." Floating straight, as a human would stand, she gazes at her unflinchingly.

"Can-can it wait until I can move?" Moving makes her dizzy.

Astonishingly, Wanda smiles. Brandishing her wand, she waves it about and Tootie's bones no longer feel a thousand pounds. All energy is restored and her stomach no longer rumbles.

"Would you like to change it now, champ?" Worriedly, Wanda gazes into her eyes. There is only a miniscule amount of interest in them- just as she feared. She grows dead to the world.

Unfortunately, Tootie hasn't a chance. The doorknob shakes and Wanda tenses. No…she thought they would have more time...damn it!

"If you ever need me, no matter what, just call my name, okay?" She forces a smile, one Tootie does not return, and hugs her tightly. She freezes, taken aback.

Did she just...hug me? Like she cares?

"Cheer up, sport. Things will get better." In a pink poof, she vanishes, leaving Tootie to her own devices. She only hopes they're sufficient.

-----

It's almost as though her car knows where she's going and not her. In a trance, she sits and awaits its reactions, telling her where she will spend her time. Therefore, she is pleasantly surprised when it takes her to Veronica's house. Her heart beats faster just thinking about alone time with her.

And she will be alone, because her parents are at work. Veronica's car is present, so she's clearly home, and so, Trixie walks up the long, winding driveway to her house.

Although it is not a mansion like Trixie's, it is ornately decorated, a large pseudo Victorian piece with hulking gargoyles decorating the sides. When she was little, it used to give her the chills, but now she finds it quaint. Quaint, as in below her, but quaint nonetheless.

Before she even knocks on the door, Veronica, seeing her from a window, opens it. There is a brief pause as both gaze at each other before Trixie pushes her back into the house. There is a devilish gleam in her eyes.

Before long, they're making out, Veronica stunned but not exactly complaining. How can she deny her goddess? Sure, she doesn't understand her sudden change in perception, but nothing makes her happier than tasting her sweet, slightly tangy lips.

They, Trixie running her fingers through her hair, fall to the couch. Remaining like this for a while, they continue to make out for a good ten minutes. Neither has ever experienced anything like this heart pounding, sweaty palm inducing, candy confectionary verisimilitude.

However, Veronica breaks it off, not because she wants to but because she feels she must. This isn't right, not if Trixie is still hanging on to Timmy but trying to play her on the side. And, loath as she is to admit it, she won't accept her this way.

"Stop…" Veronica pants, holding her at bay. Trixie cocks her head at her, confused. But…this was what both of them wanted, why was she stopping her?

"I need to know…are you still playing with Timmy's head?" Frowning slightly, she crosses her arms over her formidable chest, Trixie's eyes glued to it. She has to induce a sense of calm or she'll really lose it.

"What do you mean?" Trixie asks archly, folding her arms across her chest. Damn, she came here for her, not for him! Why on earth did she care about Timmy? She gave him up years ago.

"Trixie, I love you, but I can't let you hurt him like that. I know you can be kinda bitchy sometimes, but this just isn't right. He thinks you're in love with him!" Veronica explodes, rising. Now that she knows Trixie was never interested in Timmy, just the thought of what she did drives her insane. If she at least told him the truth, she can forgive her and continue. If not, well, then, she'd better get her act together before she even thinks of stepping foot near her again. She might just pull a Tootie and slug her.

"So what if he thinks he's in love with me? How is that my problem?" Trixie spits, jumping up as well. She didn't come here for a guilt trip, damn it!

"It's your problem because you're leading him, just as you always have! Only now, you've gone and slept with him- it's just like when we were kids only worse because he thinks you love him! How could you do this to him?!" The fury is too much for her and she has to walk around the room, a small living room decorated with a few Ming vases, an red Oriental rug, and the occasional Impressionist painting.

"You didn't say anything when I played with boys' heads before, Ver!" Her long fingernails dig into her palm, bleeding slightly.

"Maybe it's because I grew up and you didn't," Veronica hisses back. "I wasn't permitted every luxury in the world, Trix."

"I'm not going to stay here to be insulted!" Grabbing her purse, she fumes silently. Unless Veronica can give her a very good impetus to stay, she seriously will leave.

"Fine. Go back to your 'boyfriend' and play straight. Come back when you're ready to face the truth." Then, swiftly, she shoves her out the door.

Trixie stares blankly, completely dumbfounded. For five minutes, the only thing she senses, other than her bewilderment, is a pink squirrel snickering.

------

Timmy walked through a maze of corn, only, when he looked closer, he discovered it wasn't. For every stalk had Trixie's face on it, and she whispered something that, if only he leaned in further, he could hear. He needed to hear it…

Just as soon as he was within earshot, the ground disappeared beneath his feet and he struggled against the current. Vicky laughed cruelly- Vicky? He hadn't seen her in months. What was she doing here?

Tootie dangled from a branch, precariously hanging above rapids. Her body was beaten badly and her hands looked broken. If only he could reach her in time…

Trixie appeared out of nowhere, her tongue intertwined with Veronica's. He called out to her, but she couldn't hear him, she was too busy. She'd betrayed him…

"Timmy!" Tootie screamed, her fingers slipping. "Timmy, help me!"

Wanda poofed in and glanced at him. Her eyebrows raised quizzically and she nodded her head towards Tootie. But he failed to understand…

Tootie's hands slipped and she tumbled into the rapids. Rocks tore into her, rendering her into a dismembered carcass within seconds. Wanda screamed at him, but he couldn't hear her.

-----

And the hero will drown.