A/N: Ha, threw a red herring at you before. This isn't Chloe's fault…it's Trixie's. I think this is one of the few times I've ever painted her in a sympathetic light, too.

Chloe Carmichael wasn't too fond of her current garb-it was peasant stock too, a wool spun green dress that fell to her knees. She wore her standard sandals and she wanted to make a beeline for Timmy Turner, but there were too many patrons in the tavern. Cal, her faerie, said nothing as she scanned the crowd. Chloe was new in town and didn't know many people, but Timmy Turner was famous. Or, rather, infamous when it came to talking to inanimate objects and pink and green animals. He could be a bit obvious, which was why she wanted to talk to him. She had a big math test tomorrow and she couldn't study when she suddenly couldn't read.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the crowd thinned enough for her to edge her way toward the brown-haired boy with the silly pink hat. It was amazing-despite his clothes becoming patched, they remained pink, as did his hat. His hat had changed from its normal baseball type to a friar type hat, which she doubted Timmy had noticed and she wasn't about to call attention to.

Timmy was huddled by the bar and hiding near the far left side. The tavern's bar was along the lefthand wall and stretched until it met the kitchen door. Directly opposite the front door were stairs that presumably led to the living quarters. Across from Chloe and Timmy was a minstrel strumming his lute. Chloe blinked-poor Chip Skylark had gotten dragged into the wish too. He wore richer clothes than Timmy did; perhaps he could afford better.

A small smile crossed her lips. He was singing a drinking song making fun of Vicky, who presumably couldn't hear it. At least, she hoped for Timmy's sake Vicky was out of earshot.

Timmy was nursing a black eye and the two rats standing next to him looked up at her approach.

"Who are you?" Timmy snapped, in no mood for small talk. Chloe was a little hurt he didn't remember her, but he might've had other things on his mind. Cal shifted into a rat too to converse with Timmy's faeries.

"My name is Chloe Carmichael," she said and thrust out her hand for him to shake. He didn't take it. Instead, he stared blankly at her hand and then back at her face.

"Are you responsible for…this?" she asked expansively, gesturing toward the tavern as a whole.

"No," Timmy said flatly. He blinked his good eye and peered at her closely. "Wait, you noticed the change?"

"Didn't everyone?"

"No. Is this your wish?" he huffed.

"No," she said and folded her arms across her chest. "Why would I wish for a world without indoor plumbing and where I'm suddenly illiterate?"

"Well, at least I don't have to take Crocker's stupid math test anymore," Timmy muttered.

"No, none of us do. We also don't have the internet, electricity, TV, indoor plumbing, literacy, clean clothes, hot water, and did I mention cleanliness?"

"Calm down, Nervous Nancy," Timmy scoffed. "It's not that big a deal."

"How did you get that black eye?" Chloe asked in an undertone.

"Oh, this?" Timmy said and touched it with a wince. "I was too slow with an order."

Wanda growled-Chloe assumed that was the pink rat-and healed her godson. Someone whistled for Timmy and he sighed, trudging over to the table furthest in the corner and near Chip. Chloe waited to see if she could speak to Cosmo and Wanda, at least, but they scurried after Timmy. Chloe grimaced, wondering if Timmy really felt it wasn't that big a deal or if he was trying to play it off. If she remembered his afterschool activities correctly, not having electricity was kind of a big deal for him.

The indoor plumbing, not so much.

While he was gone, she took stock of the situation. There were various noteworthy people around the tavern, though they looked nothing like they normally did. Besides herself and Timmy, there were no other children around. Chloe tried to stay out of the way; this looked like a rough crowd when they didn't get their mead or whatever it was adults drank.

A group in the corner was carousing and another gambling with dice. Chloe stood on her tiptoes to see if she could find Timmy, but he was nowhere to be seen. She didn't feel comfortable in the tavern, either, and she did a doubletake when she saw her parents shuffle in. Then again, if she remembered her history right, the tavern was more than just a place to drink. It was a place to gather and find out information, as well as gamble and exchange gossip.

Her parents were in period appropriate garb and she pushed through the crowd toward them. The crowd pushed her back (rude) and she abruptly realized that a tavern was no place for a child. For one thing, people were free with their shoving when they were drunk and for another, she was getting in people's way. She hadn't expected drunk people to be orderly, but this was something else entirely.

She headed for the side of the bar again to remain safe and ignored Timmy's dad gossiping about Doug Dimmadome (he couldn't possibly be owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome in this universe) as well as other notaries. Timmy's crush, Trixie Tang, came up-she was seeking suitors up at the palace. Timmy's chances of courting her were probably lower than zero, but that wouldn't have stopped him.

Someone cleared their throat next to her and Chloe did another doubletake. Tootie Griffin stood next to her with her arms folded across her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Tootie said flatly. Tootie disliked her and Chloe didn't know why. It wasn't like Chloe was part of the strangely large group of people who had a crush on Timmy Turner.

"I wanted to talk to Timmy," Chloe said. "You?"

"Same," Tootie said and scanned her surroundings. Her gaze settled upon Cal and Chloe made a quick sign language gesture to Cal to hide. Of course, faeries were more proficient at that than humans and he vanished before Tootie got a good look at him. Nonetheless, Chloe's heart pounded. She lived in fear of losing her godfather, much as she imagined Timmy did.

"Why did you need to talk to Timmy?" Tootie snapped, as if she couldn't imagine a situation in which Chloe ever needed to approach him.

Chloe faltered. Cal had told her that normal mortals, without faeries, were under the wish's sway. They weren't aware they'd been abruptly thrust into the middle ages. Chloe wasn't certain how much she could safely divulge or whether she'd be believed. Tootie clearly didn't have a faerie.

Chloe racked her mind for something that sounded reasonable. She couldn't say homework, because they weren't in school in the middle ages. Moreover, they didn't have tutors-they were peasants. And if Chloe's newfound illiteracy was anything to go by, her parents didn't exactly have the money to hire tutors anyway. Timmy's parents might be better off, but she wasn't sure. She doubted they'd waste money hiring tutors for him when they had a business to worry about.

She needed to say something, though, or the silence would go on for too long.

"I wanted to settle my parents' tab," she said. There, that sounded viable.

"Then where's your money pouch?" Tootie countered and Chloe groaned.

"Okay, fine, I'm not here for that," she said. "Why is it such a big deal that I want to talk to Timmy?"

"It's not," Tootie said.

"It clearly is. You don't think I have a thing for him, do you?"

Tootie's gaze became heated and hostile. This was clearly the wrong thing to say and Chloe backed up, unnerved.

"Because I don't," Chloe said quickly. Tootie's shoulders relaxed slightly, but she still looked suspicious.

"I just wanted to talk to him about…about…" Chloe's mind was running blank. "You know, town gossip. Trixie Tang's ball."

Thank goodness she'd been listening to Timmy's dad natter on. She could've kissed him right now for giving her inspiration. Of course, she wouldn't have-it didn't seem like people bathed very often in this time and all the unwashed bodies were making her nose wrinkle. There was also no such thing as deodorant. Maybe she'd just stick to reading about the middle ages instead of living in them, assuming she had a choice next time.

"He won't be invited," Tootie said confidently. "He's not rich enough."

Her expression soured. "No one's good enough for Trixie Tang."

Chloe was at a loss. Clearly, Tootie wanted Timmy for herself. Also clearly, she was angry at Trixie for rejecting Timmy because he "wasn't good enough", but if Trixie was rejecting Timmy, that meant Tootie had a chance at him. So why was Tootie upset about it? Chloe was a girl and she still didn't know how other girls' minds worked sometimes.

"Oh, great," Timmy said, startling them. "My stalker and my new best friend are here."

Tootie looked hurt, but she hid it quickly. Chloe wasn't sure which of them was which and was afraid to ask.

"What's going on?" Chloe asked in an undertone. "Did you figure out…?"

"No, I didn't, because I've been an unpaid waiter the whole night," Timmy grumbled. Chloe leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder. He smiled weakly and then looked at Tootie.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"About to ask you the same question," Tootie said, hands on her hips. "I'm guessing you noticed when the world turned upside down."

Timmy blinked and scrambled for an answer. "Uh, no, because the world's always been like this. I've always been an unpaid waiter and slave to Vicky. Where've you been?"

"Yes to the latter, no to the former and you know it," Tootie said. "Your dad's a pencil pusher and your mom's a real estate agent."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Timmy said flatly. "So whatever you're on, get over it and go away."

Tootie bit back whatever she'd been about to say. Instead, she balled her fists. "So, just so we're clear, you didn't do this."

"No, I didn't do this," Timmy said. "The world has always been like this."

Tootie sighed, pinching her nose bridge and looking exasperated. That wasn't the answer she was looking for. "Right, well, I'm going to finish cleaning the house before Vicky comes home."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he said. "Before, you know, she goes postal. Or, uh, whatever the term is now."

Tootie shook her head and sighed. "You're hopeless, Timmy Turner."

She leaned forward, hugged him tightly but briefly, and then kissed him on the cheek anyway. "And I love you for it."

"Great, thanks," Timmy grumbled and watched her walk off. Still, he didn't scrub his cheek to erase the feel of her kiss or otherwise pull a face, which might've been the best Tootie could hope for. He was, after all, a stupid ten year old boy.

"What about you?" Timmy asked Chloe.

"I think I got what I came for," Chloe said. "But if neither of us wished for this, then who did?"

Somehow, even though her father was constantly gone on business trips, wishing they were back in the middle ages hadn't helped. Trixie's father was now an ambassador and gone even longer, because he had to make the trips on horseback or in a carriage. Moreover, there was an even more substantial class barrier between herself and the others, except for maybe her best friend Veronica.

She sighed. How was it that a wish had gone so wrong so quickly?

At least she had her ball to look forward to, if the same stupid suitors didn't come forward like they always did. She was too young for suitors in the normal world, but apparently, ten years old was ripe for the plucking in the middle ages. Gross.

Still, at least it'd entertain her, albeit briefly.

Her faerie godmother was inexperienced, but she meant well. Trixie was sure she hadn't planned on the wish branching out like this.

What to do now, though? She supposed she could always sit and spin or do needlework, but that was so boring. The worst part about this wish was that her godmother couldn't figure out how to unwish it. She'd disappeared off to Fairy World and left Trixie on her own. And with Veronica entertaining the queen's ladies and Trixie alone, she was lonely.

Even with a faerie godmother, life wasn't a faerie tale. It didn't seem fair. Weren't faerie godparents supposed to be the great equalizer?

She wanted to go into town, but with the class differences so stark, she'd be noticed and possibly mobbed on her way in. Plus, she'd have to take a carriage instead of a limo. The carriage had appeal, if only because it'd force everyone to notice her. She also had to admit a slight curiosity about what had happened to Timmy Turner since she'd made the wish. Strange things happened around him too, so it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with the feeling.

Still, if she'd had her faerie, she could've just wished she were in town already. Well, whenever her faerie sorted this out, she'd unwish the wish. In the meanwhile, it looked like she was taking a carriage into town with bodyguards.

Muscular men in tight uniforms brandishing swords to protect her. That sounded about right. She smirked.