Disclaimer: I don't own Petshop of Horrors and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write.
Pairing: None
Category: General
Rating: G
Warning: None
Title: Once Upon a Time
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: This was written for the LiveJournal community, 15minuteficlets. Word #6 – Fantasy
ONCE UPON A TME
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Orcot," The large man behind the equally large desk stood and extended his hand warmly. "I've heard a lot about you, son."
"All of it good, I hope," Chris smiled in reply as his own hand was swallowed and pumped enthusiastically.
"Indeed," The man, Thomas Greene, literary agent for one of the largest publishing companies in the world, gestured expansively toward one of the well padded chairs in front of his desk. "Top of your class in college, a first rate Federal Agent, and-" he gestured toward the manuscript atop the desk before him – "an extremely talented author to boot. I'm impressed, Mr. Orcot, and I don't say that very often."
Chris inclined his head modestly and offered one of his endearing little boy smiles. "Thank you for saying so, sir."
"Tell me, Mr. Orcot, where did you get your fantastic ideas?" Thomas Greene asked his face radiant with genuine curiosity.
Where indeed? Chris thought with another smile.
For years his parents had insisted that his memories of the pet shop and its inhabitants were figments of his imagination. Eventually, he stopped talking about Count D, Pon-chan, Tetsu and the others. No one understood. Not even his brother, Leon. Though, from his last few phone conversations with his brother he suspected that Leon had understood a great deal more than he had been letting on.
But then Leon had disappeared while searching for the Count and there was no one else who understood, no one in which he could share his special memories. And so he had written them down to preserve them… and the rest, they say, was history.
"Oh, here and there," He replied vaguely with a shrug.
"Just the answer I'd expect from a writer," Mr. Greene chuckled. "Well, no matter the inspiration, you wrote one hell of a fantasy novel, son."
Chris shifted in his seat and momentarily caught his lower lip between his teeth. Here's where things got a bit tricky…
"Well, actually, sir," he replied, leaning forward earnestly, "it's more of an autobiography."
THE END
