A/N: Again, this is completely optional, but some things happened that I thought would make some good fic.

Oh, and the stay with my sister, her fiancé, their two kids, his parents, and his parents' two dogs, two birds, and dozens of koi fish was very good.

Even if, and I'm quoting my sister, her kids are nuts.

Life Block, Extended

Apparently Nenya doesn't look old enough to vote.

But the writer's getting ahead of herself.

Nenya had done something that she never did before.

Fall asleep in front of her computer while it was still on.

Her eyes flickered open and looked at the little tiny clock in the right corner of the screen, it registering 2:54 AM, Central Time, instead of 3:54 AM, Eastern Time she had grown accustomed to in the past week.

Blaming it on jet lag, she shut down the laptop which had also trekked across the country with her at the suggestion of her sister only to be used to play the two part episode of Firefly – Serenity, and The Train Job on another night.

Bringing it had been pretty much pointless.

Nenya was glad no harm befell it in her travels.

But, the writer's getting ahead of herself again.

The traveling aspect had been eventful.

Some couple took ten minutes to figure out the eline ticket console thingamabob, much to Nenya's annoyance and also to the man behind her. After she got her ticket in less than sixty seconds she commented to him, "That was quick."

She made it through security after having to dig her laptop out of its comfy place in the exact center of her bag, over to the Gate (oh how she was about to wish it was a Stargate, which would have been soo much easier), plopped down, and started to read her itty-bitty copy of Braham Stoker's Dracula.

The time ticked by on the clock on the wall not fast enough for her tastes.

Then the guy at the counter made an announcement.

"Our plane is coming from Chicago, and they are reporting a crew delay of over an hour… … … … If you have a flight out of O'Hare before 1:15, see me at the desk."

Nenya was sure her face was betraying her annoyance and anger, but beat it back.

Her flight was due to depart at 1:13.

Would she still make it? Or risk being stranded in Chicago?

The line at the desk was long and included the man she said the few words to at the ticket counter, and she decided to sit and wait until it got shorter because she did not want to stand in line.

Then the blonde chick at the counter next to the man made another announcement.

"For your convenience, we have a bus to Chicago…"

A bus.

Instead of a plane.

They had to be kidding.

But, they weren't.

And Nenya had to make the plane out of O'Hare.

After asking the blonde for advice, Nenya forked over her ticket and jogged down to where she said the bus would be.

The older man she had exchanged a few words to at the eline ticket console thing called out behind her, "Taking the bus to Chicago too?"

She stopped, turned, and answered.

Chatting about how unbelievable it was, they made it to their destination.

But there was no bus.

Did they have the wrong place?

Nenya and the man in the yellow shirt (which he will have to be called because his name is a mystery) looked around confusedly. He suggested they go check somewhere else.

For some reason that in hindsight was not the best idea, she went along with him.

They headed out and crossed the little road to where the cabs and other such vehicles were.

No bus.

She ran back, now sweaty in the 90degree heat, only to find herself with yellow-shirt man by the baggage claim and not the ticket pickup, where said blonde had told her the bus would be.

Cursing the idiots that designed Mitchell Airport, she ran up the escalator with yellow-shirt man tagging along behind her, walked through the pointless area of shops, down another escalator, and ran over the ticket pick up.

Now she could see the bus outside.

It was one of those beat down airport shuttle type things.

And it was on its way to full.

After handing over her bag to be stuffed in the back along with the other luggage, she found a seat next to a quiet man in the front of the bus and settled in, constantly checking her watch. Yellow-shirt man headed further into the bus.

More people crammed in, and the last guy got stuck with a terrible seat that wasn't even a seat really.

A few more minutes passed, Nenya made a phone call to her sister who almost died of shock at the prospect of her baby sister on a bus with strangers to O'Hare instead of a plane.

But it was worse because there was no air conditioning.

And it was 90something out.

Great.

Her sister told Nenya that her future mother-in-law said not to talk to strangers.

Nenya bit back a laugh.

The driver announced a limo had come for the last guy on the bus.

A limousine.

The writer kids you not.

Amongst some lady saying "He deserves it for taking that terrible 'seat' " the guy left the bus and climbed into the white Lincoln Navigator limo.

Nenya clenched her teeth.

Not fair.

The bus started on its way and the trip was spent staring out of the bus's windshield and at the back of the driver who was literally dripping sweat. He was also on his stupid little Nextel phone/walkie talkie with the driver of the limo.

Which passed and left the bus in the dust, much to the chagrin of Nenya.

From their talks and the driver talking to one of the riders, Nenya deduced the bus had a bad tire.

She hoped it wouldn't just fall off.

Her brain raced and she wondered if yellow-shirt man had deemed her a naïve-little-woman who needed his help to make it to the bus.

Which, she didn't in hindsight. If he hadn't suggested they go look somewhere else for the bus, she would have stayed in the right place and not gotten all sweaty.

So there.

They made it to O'Hare in one piece, Nenya grabbed her bag, exchanged 'good lucks' with yellow-shirt man, and set off to navigate O'Hare.

She had no idea what Gate to head to. The ticket didn't say.

One of those big screen things was hanging over her head and she found the correct Gate.

Now, to find the Concourse.

Biting her lip, she avoided the masses of people, and saw that she had to go around the ticket counters to the security station set up in front of the Concourse.

The line was long, but it went by quickly and she once again found herself having to take out her precious laptop out of its comfy home, but this time she also had to take off her shoes.

The time ticked by and Nenya didn't bother to retie her shoes properly and took off for C26, thanking the designers of O'Hare who put in the moving sidewalks.

As she speed-walked with her million-ton bag that was hurting her shoulder, she looked ahead and wished those people ahead of her would walk instead of just standing on the moving sidewalk thing.

Lazy jerks.

At a break in the human conveyor belt, she switched to the other one moving in the same direction and arrived at the Gate as they were boarding.

She lowered her bag to the ground and sighed of relief.

Since they were boarding the more expensive sections, she made a quick call to her sister, and then headed onto the plane.

It was already mostly full and there was a man in the aisle seat of her row.

Great. Nenya had been clinging to the possibility of having a row all to herself.

Oh well.

At least he wasn't bad looking.

She peered in the overhead storage compartment to find no room for her bag.

The look on her face must have been… well… something because the baby blue-shirt man stood and helped her find a place in one of the other compartments, even taking the bag and stuffing it in.

She settled into her window seat, baby-blue shirt man into his, and Nenya buckled in having to tighten the strap and watched to see if anyone was going to take the middle seat.

But no one did.

Thank god.

She pulled out Dracula again, wondering once more if she really did look helpless, and was just starting to get absorbed into reading when over the speakers the flight attendant basically told everyone to stop what they were doing, sit down, shut up, and watch the little fold down screens for the safety video.

Nenya closed her book and in a few seconds, opened it again, having heard all the safety crap before.

Worried for one Jonathon Harker, she barely noticed the plane starting to move. But she did and closed the book.

The wing was visible from her seat and her mind flashed to an ole Twilight Zone episode with William Shatner.

She imagined seeing the ape-monster thing on the wing prying off panels and William Shatner, fresh from a stay at a sanitarium, trying to convince everyone there was a creature on the wing sabotaging the plane.

The plane started to take off, and other horrible plane stories flooded abstractedly into her head, jumbling into a big mass of fright.

Nenya closed her eyes, trying to get it all out.

She brought Dracula back out and successfully beat back the thoughts-of-disaster until wishes that Asgard beaming technology was real, that the Prometheus, Daedalus, or the Odyssey, even an Asgard ship could just beam her up and set her back down in her sister's living room.

If the Prometheus could move a building, it could move her.

Then the plane started shaking due to some rainy clouds, and the thoughts of disaster came rushing back.

The plane landed as Nenya squinched her eyes shut as she did at take off, and she waited for the millions of people to clear out ahead of her until she could go get her bag, which she was watching very carefully in the open storage thing three rows ahead of her. After what seemed like hours, baby blue-shirt man got out of the row, Nenya following him. He stopped at her bag and asked "Need help?"

"Sure." She answered automatically.

He got her bag down, handed it to her, and walked off the plane with Nenya following.

She knew the bag was heavy and all, but she could have gotten it down by herself. Honestly. She can handle her 54 pound hunting dog, and she can handle a lighter inanimate object.

Even with a recovering bum knee.

For some reason, in order to get from the Concourse to the front of the little airport, one needed to walk through a wide and except for a few chairs here and there, empty hallway that even bent at one point.

It took forever until it opened up to the main hub of the airport.

The exit around the security was off to the side, a large square archway along the wall that if you walked through from the other way, probably would've gone off.

Which, it did anyway as Nenya walked the correct was under it, along with a group of people.

Lights flashed red on it, along with a computerized voice which Nenya didn't only caught some of "You must… five seconds… four… three… two…."

Her eyes met with the other people, who all seemed to know each other and someone commented, "That sounds menacing."

Nenya ignored the weird archway and continued on her way, quickly seeing her sister waiting.

---

Nenya stared at her wallet in horror and back at the lady who checked boarding passes and ID's.

It couldn't be happening.

No.

Nope.

Not happening.

Maybe…

She handed over an old, pictureless state ID and university ID, with picture.

The only ones she could find.

The lady scrunched up her face and stated, "Do you have a passport?"

"No." Shit.

Nenya's sister stood angrily.

Nenya stared off with blank horror. What was the big deal? Her name was clearly stated on both, her picture looked like her, and the state ID had her weight and eye color.

"I can't pass her on this. She's over eighteen."

Nenya's sister insisted, "She's going home."

Okay. This was ridiculous. Nenya distinctly remembered them taking that very same state ID the last time she visited, and she was over eighteen then too. Just because she couldn't find her new ID shouldn't mean she couldn't get on the damn plane. It wasn't like she had a bomb or something.

Nenya growled at the woman and set off to the ticket counter to see the nice lady who gave her the tickets so she could initial them and say it was okay.

Nenya showed the nice lady the two ID's and the nice lady scowled and told her it should've been fine. It was a state college. All the info was clearly her.

That made Nenya feel better.

She went all the back to the other lady with her brand-new tickets, the lady took them, handed her them back in an orange sleeve, told her to keep it out, and Nenya hugged her sister goodbye.

Then the fun began.

One of the security people say the bright orange thing and called her over.

Nenya followed instructions.

The security lady said she'd been selected for extra security measures and was actually quite nice about it.

Okay. Nenya breathed. No big deal.

She pointed out her stuff coming out of the conveyor belt, followed the lady to the wall, and was patted down (barely at that) as three, yes three, people went through her stuff. Two women, and one man. Wiping down her cell phone, digital camera, opening her laptop, and barely even going through the rest of it. They all looked rather relaxed and were chatting away nonchalantly as Nenya stared in abject shock.

The original lady walked off after saying as soon as the last remaining security lady finished, Nenya could go.

The second lady was nice too and asked if Nenya's laptop went in her bag.

Nenya said yes. The security lady said she could put it back in, and then noticed she had no other bags and said, "That was a stupid question, what else would you put it in?"

Nenya smiled as she put it back in carefully, "Yeah."

If these were the people guarding air security, then we all are in serious trouble.

She noticed at the next counter thing a group of people and one other security lady holding small baseball bats of different colors.

Uh… what?

The second lady said Nenya could go, so she did, muttering about the napoleonic power-monger back at the boarding pass checking place on a severe power trip.

It was a small little airport. That woman needed to get over herself.

At least Nenya didn't have to take off her shoes.

---

After a super-short flight, Nenya hopped off the plane and admired the Cincinnati airport. Now, if she could only make it from Gate C63 to C26, it'd be peachy.

Looking around for signs, she found one that pointed her in the right direction and thanked whoever was up there that it was in the same Concourse so there was no more security for her.

Out of curiosity, she looked up at the big screen for her flight and gaped.

The flight had changed to C62. Where she had just been.

Sighing, she walked all the way back to the Gate, really wishing Asgard beaming technology was real, and sat down. She pulled out the ticket and almost collapsed.

It said C62. Not 26 like she had read countless times.

She wondered if her best friend's dyslexia was contagious.

Deciding that slapping herself in public was not a good idea, Nenya pulled out Dracula again.

At some point nearing the boarding time, a large young man, about her age, in a pink-shirt sat a few seats down from her.

A very pink shirt.

Like… pink.

Nenya doesn't do pink. It's hereditary. Her sister doesn't do pink either. Hell, neither does her mom.

Stifling a laugh, she continued to read until it was boarding time.

A non eventful walk later, she sat down in her window seat, slid her bag under the seat in front of her, and the pink-shirt man sat next to her.

The coincidence was pretty… coincidental.

And he was playing a gameboy.

Now, Nenya has no qualms or problems about or with larger people, when they sit next to you in tiny little airplane seats, it can get a little uncomfortable, unless you like the elbow brushing.

It also crossed her mind how opposite they were.

There she was, a little white woman reading a classic novel next to a larger black man playing a gameboy.

It must have looked at least a little comical.

---

Sinking down into her butterfly chair, Nenya connected her laptop to the internet as it sat on the cushy cubic stool/footrest/table thing in front of her.

Her email account had pages of new emails, chapter alerts, and updates from forums she hadn't posted on in months and kept forgetting to stop it from emailing her since she just deleted all the emails, unread, anyway.

Having successfully caught up on all the ffnet stories she was reading, she set out in search for transcripts of The Pegasus Project and Irresistible, having indeed missed both.

She would go to YouTube or torrent them, but the crummy dial-up connection she had made YouTube useless and torrents of episodes take days to download.

Squeeing since Stargatecaps had caps of the episodes, she searched for what seemed like ever to find transcripts. Her trusty Gatenoise didn't have them. Gateworld didn't have them.

Finally, she found Irresistible at AbydosGate and laughed her ass off throughout the whole thing.

Then she only found a few synopses of The Pegasus Project. Though a few were detailed, she really was bent on finding a transcript.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up at 2:54 AM in front of her laptop, her body sprawled in the butterfly chair, arms and legs hanging off in rather odd, but comfortable ways.

She thanked that the chair was impossible to get or fall out of (something that had saved her numerous times when reading a certain WPBA author's works,… and other authors too), shut down the laptop, and crawled into bed.

Her eyes begrudgingly opened at the pawing of her dog at her side.

Dog.

But she hadn't picked him up yet…

"Hey, wake your butt up already."

Nenya sat up, "Hi…I can sleep if I want. It's my house."

"Not when you dump your dog on me for a week and leave me to poop-and-scoop and extra night than I should have."

The dog jumped on her, whined, and wiggled around.

"Okay, Cole… sheesh, I'm home alright." Nenya pushed the dog off and started to hop out of bed.

"Woah," Nenya's best friend, known as Napish for reasons readers do not need to know, shielded her eyes, "I'm really hoping you don't sleep in the buff because I'm scarred enough."

"You should know I don't. Lynn took the pictures of us."

"That so didn't sound good."

Nenya hopped out of bed in sweatpants and a tee-shirt, "The pictures don't look good." She scratched Cole's head as he panted with his tongue hanging out of his mouth trying to get closer to her. "Would you stop it already? I'm petting you. I'm here."

"He missed you. Ain't that sweet?" Napish rolled her eyes. "How was the trip? Flying and all?"

"I'll tell you later. How was the concert?"

Napish was about to start when Nenya stopped her, "Hold that thought. I have to make toilet."

"Make toilet?"

"Yeah. I've been reading Dracula. It's polite."

Napish called after her, "What's wrong with saying you gotta piss like a racehorse?"

---

'Ding-dong.'

The dog barked.

She cursed.

'Ding-dong.'

More barking, more cursing as Nenya pulled Cole from the door and stepped out.

A man in a white shirt stood outside the door, took a look at her, and asked, "Are your parents home?"

Nenya wanted to say she lived alone, but hey, if it got her out of a stupid solicitor… "No." It wasn't like she was lying or anything.

"Oh, well… I'm (bleeped out of courtesy), the local Alderman, and I'm going around handing these out," he handed her a stiff piece of paper, "asking if anyone has any questions… but you don't look old enough to vote."

What?

Huh?

Nenya couldn't speak. Something that happened a lot. She doesn't do contradicting strangers.

"So if you'd give your parents that when they get home, I'd appreciate it."

"Okay…"

"Have a good day." He smiled and walked away.

Nenya walked back in and laughed, thinking she really should have said how she went to K-8 school with his son and had been able to vote for years.

Did she look that young?

She walked into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

So she was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt she bought in high school. It wasn't like she was going anywhere in 'em.

She laughed louder, causing Napish to call from the living room, "What the hell's so funny?"

Now Nenya understood.

She didn't look like a fully-capable adult, she looked like a high school student, not even old enough to vote, though she had passed that mark years ago.

No wonder those men at the airport helped her. It wasn't out of the goodness of their hearts, it was because she looked like a helpless kid.

Maybe she could get into movies on kid prices.

Nenya headed to her friend and asked, still giggling, "What do you think about me in pigtails?"

A/N: Okay, I'm off to write a new chapter… I promise!