Imagine: The List
Fic posted by members of Vo's Imaginings YahooGroup


“Hello, why do you think I wrote pinball pirates? I do know.” I snort. “I get bitten by the most rabid bunnies.”


“And you just have to share them with everybody else.” Greta snorts.


“Hey, misery loves company.” I smirk. “Oh speaking of bunnies, what if Pegasus was another name for the Rukbat galaxy and on their way home Atlantis came across Pern?”


Everybody who's read the books stop and stare at me. I grin. “And Rodney impresses a Queen.”


“Well, if they ever get their heads out of their asses and admit they have feelings for each other, John will have to impress a bronze, not that he'd let anybody else have Rodney or his dragon..” Greta says absently. “Did you finally trap the bunny that wanted Eureka to be a weyr? I gotta admit, Fargo as a weyrlingmaster? Those poor dragons and their riders, they'd probably end up flying upside down.”


Dr. Stark is looking at us in horror.


“I fed the brat blue carrots until he looked like he was going to burst, he just burped and fell asleep, then locked him in an escape proof cage, locked that in a second cage locked that in a third cage and then dumped a ton of concrete on top of it. By the time the little bastard gnaws his way out of it he should have settled down. If not, I'll be waiting with a shotgun loaded with bunny be gone pellets. Not that anything less than a ten ton nuke dropped on their pointy little heads would hurt the little bastards, but it might slow him down.”


“Greta, Josette, quit terrorizing the natives who haven't heard the two of you go on and on and on about torturing plot bunnies. . .”


“They torture us Buck, get it right.” Greta snorts. “That's why I usually have ten books going at once?”


“Reading or writing them?” Spencer asks. “All of my writing is connected to my work, unlike the two of you.”


“Writing Spence, while we do usually have more than one book we're reading at a time, the bunnies don't bother us then, they wait until we're sound asleep to pounce and give us the strangest dreams or we're in the middle of a shower.” I snort. “Somebody's really got to invent bunny proof netting to put around our beds so we can sleep without the brats pestering us, I'd make a fortune selling it on the lists.”


“So what are we going to need for your school, Dr. Stark?” I ask, looking over at him. “Besides different clothes?” I smirk over at Greta, who flips me the tail absently as she pulls Friday off her neck and walks into the TARDIS, silently counting off the seconds until one of the Doctors finally gives into their bottomless wells of curiosity, and they complain about cats?, and follows her through the open door.


The Immortal Doctor is stunned, he stops in the doorway but absently moves as the others follow him through the doorway. Instead of the control room that they would expect to see in any other TARDIS, they find a large living room with a sunken area in the middle surrounded by couches on the three sides that don't have steps leading down to the area. There's a bank of screens that are set up to resemble windows scattered around the room, though what there is to see outside is debatable.


Greta just smirks at the Doctors, while the 9th Doctor and Jack already knew that Friday is a TARDIS, they hadn't been inside her. Sighing, then rolling her eyes as a funeral dirge plays in the background, she heads into her room to check out her clothes since she has to go to school.


“Friday.” Greta whines as she sees Friday in her room pulling out clothes.


“At least try to make a good impression?” Friday says, rolling her eyes. Meanwhile, she appears in the living room and is quietly talking to the Doctors. Greta grins as she looks over her shoulder and sees a holographic projection of the TARDIS's interior in front of them.


“So I would assume that you are actually in control of all the functions of the TARDIS?” the 8th Doctor asks quietly. “Is there actually a control room?”

“There is actually, nicely hidden until Greta is older and can learn how to operate the machinery.” Friday smiles. “Don't even think of wearing that t-shirt, young lady.” Both holographic images say in unison. I'm leaning against the doorway and snigger. “And you?”


“What you see is what you get.” I wave a hand at myself. “Friday, we're going to need a couple of notebook computers for school, here's the specifications and a list of what programs we're allowed to have on them.”


A third holographic image appears next to me and plucks the paper from my hand. She vanishes and returns a few minutes later with two notebook computers. She heads for the door and talks quietly with Dr. Stark, putting them on the table in the library.


“More programs will be installed on the computers tomorrow when you go to school for your placement tests.” Friday says as she appears back in the living room. Josette, I placed some clothes on your bed. Please check and see if they fit.”

Greta has the audacity to laugh at my hangdog look.


“I hate dressing up.” I mumble as I head down the hall from Greta's room, immediately across the room from the door. Like Friday had said, clothes are spread on the bed and I mix and match the shirts and pants in front of me, looking at them in the mirror. Then I shake my head in disgust, I'm acting like some fool teenage kid primping for a date.


Out in the other room, Friday rolls her eyes. “Try them on to see if they fit Josette, don't just look at them in the mirror. They should be fine, the replicator used your last fitting to create them.” She looks at the Doctors. “Josette almost always has to have her pants hemmed or wear shoes with a thick sole because she's short, Greta always needs her pants lengthened since she's so tall and her waist taken in, if the pants are long enough on her, the waist is too big.” Friday throws up an image of Greta in midair wearing a set of scrubs, everybody, Dr. Stark had given into his curiosity and came inside, chuckles when they see they end somewhere around her knees and she has two large knots of material on either side of her waist to keep them up. The tail that the others had just noticed is pulling the pants up in the back and she sighs.


“Sometimes I think Greta's tail is the only thing holding her pants up when she wears something like that.”


In the image Greta walks away and her pants fall to the floor, she calmly steps out of them and keeps walking, the scrub shirt long enough to reach nearly to her knees. “This was a few months ago, there was a. . .incident at a lab at Princeton-Plainsboro, the image expands to show what's obviously a ward and Nathan recognizes the others from the time he'd spent at PPTH. “It was an experimental lab that had a few mad scientists who liked playing with nasty germs and didn't keep good records. There was an accident with some broken vials and no idea what they contained so two floors were quarantined. Thankfully most of the rooms were empty, but Greta was in P-P when her airplane was diverted and she had decided to spend some time haras . . .errr visiting Gregory.”


“You were right the first time.” Jo snorts.


“Since they didn't know exactly what had been released, they were in quarantine for the maximum two weeks it would have taken something to pop up. Dr. Cuddy was trying to micromanage the entire situation, Greta decided to have a little fun at her expense.”


“That's a polite way of putting it.” Ryan says, rolling his eyes. “As you already know, Greta's an author in our world so the news that a world famous author might be facing death quickly hit the news. There was news vans camped out in the parking lot with Greta giving interviews over the phone.” Ryan looks at me as I come back down the hall. “Did anything ever come of that book about the situation that her publishers wanted Greta to write. I know they'd started a blog for her so she could tell everybody what was going on.”


“Thankfully not even they're that stupid.” I snort. “Talk about a book quickly died once everybody was out of there.”


Greta snorts. “Trust me, if somebody had died or even got the sniffles, they would have me writing the damn thing. Damn thing would have been an instant hit too, all the media coverage.”


“Aside from having all six of them in one room getting on each others nerves, things weren't that bad.”


Greta snorts. “You weren't locked in there, and having the lights and heat cut out on us because Cuddy was too fucking cheap to put an emergency generator in the building wasn't fun.” A small grin flickers over her face, as if to say 'what I did to her was though'


Greta finally gets the last of the Doctors out of Friday and the TARDIS reappears in its normal spot around her neck. Friday had moved the clothes that she had decided Greta and Josette were going to be wearing to school had been moved to their rooms on the bus and as much as Greta hates the idea, she's going to have to attend a normal school . .. again.


The next morning finds Dr. Stark at the school delivering Josette and Greta there so they can take their placement tests before running up to Global Dynamics to pick up Allison and the babies.


“Young Lady, this is a school, dogs are not allowed.” The principal says when Sugar walks in beside me in full harness.


“Old Lady,” I say icily, Greta hiding a snicker behind her hand as I channel our best Grandma Hera on a rip mood. “Sugar and Spice are licensed Service Animals, they are allowed anywhere the public is. I am diabetic, they are trained to monitor me for signs of blood sugar level disturbances.”


She doesn't like it, I can tell by the tightening around her eyes but like it or not I have her over a barrel when it comes to service animals.


“Fine, I will allow your animals to stay. . .for now.”


“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Let's get this over with, I have better things to do.”


“Did you bring the notebook computers with you that Dr. Stark told you you'd be needing?”


“Yeah,” Greta and I hand them over. “Knock yourself out with them.”


“These are not Global Dynamics computers.”


“Dr. Stark didn't say we had to have computers from his company, just gave us the specifications.”


The Principal glares at us, but Greta's right, as long as they meet the specifications needed the actual computers don't have to be supplied by Global Dynamics. I give her a nasty little kitty smile that has the woman behind the counter hiding a smile behind her hand.


“Girls, I'm the computer teacher, let's get your computers loaded with the programs you're going to be using at school while the Principal calls in the other teachers for your tests.”

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