Synopsis:

Another BigCloset TopShelf story.

Joanie visits a friend and attends an all-girl sleep-over. She learns of the speed and power of modern marketing and has a close-call with the press. She discovers something personal that worries her greatly.

Andy Warhol said,"In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

Story:

Timeout-Stop/Playback/Rewind: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out either Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html) or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

This is my first attempt a TG/sci-fi piece. Constructive criticism and advice is welcome. This for pure fun and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Take it in that spirit. Any violations of copyright or use of real people or incidents is for purposes of humor or parody, which gets me off the hook! Don’t yah love the fair use doctrine. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2006. See my agents Bill & Ted of San Dimas CA. They just renegotiated my publishing contract and got me a big increase in royalties, excellent.

Timeout

By John from Wauwatosa

Chapter 13- Sleepover part 2

Des Moines IA — November 11-12, 2006

December 13, 2006 near Dunwich, New Hampshire on the Grand Miskatonic Shuttle - 10:15am EST

The conductor announced “next stop Dunwich;” we’ll be there in five minutes. Ghod I’m so nervous I could wet myself; me, Joanie, who’s run screaming into a busy highway to save a girl not knowing, she could stop time. Joanie, the terminally shy person now professional recording artist and girl-on-girl make out expert. Joanie, the gal clad in only a space blanket and rope belt that told off a salivating press mob and sassed back to kidnappers while naked in chains. Where has your courage gone? I can barely type this, I’m shaking so. I feel like I’m gonna puke. Com’mon, pull yourself together, girl. This is what you want. Don’t give-up just short of the finish line. Think of all the people who helped you get to this point -- don’t let them down. Don’t let yourself down, damn it. If you made it this far, you’ll do fine. Now I’m spouting platitudes, pathetic, but I am calmer.

~Now is everything ready? Let’s see, travel clothes repacked, cycle gear on or at hand, baggage claim ticket for cycle in blouse pocket, no? Try purse in left pannier, no? Don’t panic, girl, how about top inside zipper pocket in my MSG bomber jacket? Whew! ~

I have got to stop scaring myself, deep breaths and relax, Joanie. Got to stop soon and pack my diary/journal/whatever safe in its padded case. Last check: personal care items, oh thank the Ghodess Sara packed those condoms for me, and I thought she was joking, not that I ever will need any but still? What was it they said in Red Dwarf, “You never know” but then I’m no Duane Dibbley. And thank the stars for that. Road map with marked route, check, letters from Sara to Ms. Carson and Dr. Polland, check, letter from Meridian, check. Nearly there now, just watch the scenery and think of the fun you’ll have, just like the sleepover at Mel’s but with older kids, for whole semesters at a time and coed, oh my. Got to go, we’re slowing for the station. I’ll finish this at Whateley.

* * * *

The sleepover was set for 6pm that night. I helped Mel call, I dialed and she talked, trying not to give away her secret. She had me listen in, sneaky girl.

“Mel, you’re acting weird. What’s up?” her friend Lisa asked.

“Nothin’ Lisa: just trying to have fun.”

“I’ve known you since first grade, Mel; you’re only like this when you have a secret you can’t tell. You can tell me, you know I won’t talk.” Mel put Lisa on hold.

“Lisa’s a good friend but can’t keep a secret. She’s almost too nice and honest.” I nodded, and Mel put Lisa back on.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, and I want to surprise you.”

“Please, Mel, I’ll be good, I can keep it for a day.”

~Oh my, Lisa can talk like she had puppy dog/kitten in the rain eyes, scary. ~

I succumbed to the Silly Side of the Force, “If Mel can’t say I’m here, then she can’t say I’m here, Lisa.”

Mel giggled when she heard my fake girly voice.

“Who was that Mel? She sounds familiar,” asked Lisa.

“Another friend who’s come to visit, that’s why I want a sleepover.”

“I’m from out of town and can’t see Mel often. I hope you come, Lisa, they’re lots of fun.” I tried to sound girly but Joanie kept leaking out.

“Tell me, Mel. Please!”

~Ouch! Lisa could teach a class in whining. ~

“I can’t, it’s a surprise.”

“Then I’ll have to guess.”

“This sounds interesting,” I whispered to Mel.

“I’ll star with the facts,” said Lisa. Mel told me later Lisa read lots of girl detective novels, Nancy Drew and her successors.

“Your friend’s a girl from out of town, probably far away ‘cause she says she can’t see you often. You have no female cousins. I’ve heard her voice before, but she’s disguising it. How am I doing so far?”

“Fair,” I squeaked.

“You’ve been to a sleepover of Mel’s, you said so yourself, Mystery Girl,” Lisa stated.

Mel snickered as she remembered the press calling me that.

“Wait, I remember. I heard you at Mel’s birthday party this September. Most of the kids were from school except for Mel’s brother and a couple others.”

Sharp girl, she was very close. Then I heard doubt in her voice.

“That doesn’t make sense, I must be wrong. The only others were your Mom, Grandfather, those three strange men and ...” the phone went silent. “No, you couldn’t have, I mean she’s so famous now, she wouldn’t.”

I gave in. “I wouldn’t what, Lisa?” I said in my normal voice.

She was a good friend of Mel’s after all. Lisa shrieked and dropped the phone. We could hear a distant conversation.

“Lisa, are you okay? Why did you shriek?”

~Must be her mom. ~

“Mommy, Mel’s invited me to a sleepover, and she has the greatest secret, and I can’t tell you.”

~She’s trying. ~

“That’s nice dear, what can’t you tell me?”

“That Joanie’s visiting her ... “

~She tried. ~

“Joanie from the birthday party: Joanie the singer?” Her mom asked.

“Yes, Mommy, isn’t it great! Can I go? I have to,” Lisa said excitedly and loud; my ears hurt even with the phone on the floor.

“Ok,” Mom said; Lisa shrieked again. “But you have to pick up your room first.”

Mom’s, yah gotta love um. We could hear Lisa running back to the phone.

“You still there?” asked Lisa, breathless.

“I’m still here,” we said in unison and laughed.

“I take it your mon said yes, Lisa?” I asked.

“Mom did, and I won’t tell, Joanie, I promise.”

“See you at six, Lisa. Bye.” Oddly enough she did keep her word; however, some of the other girls…

* * * *

Around 5:30 the first girls showed.

“Can’t be late for your sleepovers, Mel, yours are the best,” they all said or something like it.

Bob was off to a fund raiser, so it was girls’ night out or is that in? Babs handled the door, and Mel led them upstairs to party room, the converted fourth floor media center, mattresses on the floor, snacks on a table, a cooler full of soda, you know. I was ensconced in the Media room wearing the height of fashion, red lace panties — not thong, this was a girls party — matching bra, my own personalized, autographed MSG oversized sleep shirt with my name sewn on the front and pink bunny slippers with eyes, ears, whiskers and tails. Yah, I know the slippers were a bit racy but still.

I know it was Mel’s party and at the Governor’s mansion, Terrace Hill, but I was amazed how many older brothers had insisted on — “helping carry in all the party stuff” - for their beloved younger sisters, such kind hearted boys, sure.

Seven girls were invited; seven came along with eleven older, helpful brothers who just had to carry those heavy snacks and sleeping bags all the long way up and into our party room. Apparently potato chips and snack mix are heavier than I remembered.

“No, no, Mrs. Johnson, we wouldn’t dream of letting our sister Julie carry all this heavy stuff by herself,” said the twin brothers of a petite blood girl.

All the boys were so helpful though once they saw me; it was hard to get them to leave.

~Hum ... could they be here just to, Nah. ~

It was six and the last two, the twins, hadn’t got the hint -- bold action was called for.

“Mel, dear, we’re all girls here right?” I said blatantly ignoring Frick and Frack. Mel nodded. “So we can let our hair down, so to speak, so long as we behave.”

“Sure, Joanie, what you want to do?”

The boys grinned like sharks at a free surfer buffet.

“I got up so early and drove so far to get here, and I’m feeling really uncomfortable; okay if I go braless?”

“Okay, sure,” Mel said.

I reached under the back of my nightshirt to grab the clasp, raising my nightshirt in the process. By the time my navel was exposed, the twins were running down the stairs. I stopped what I was doing, straightened my clothes and started laughing. The girls soon joined in, it was a while before anyone could speak.

“Thank you, Joanie, my brothers were pains all day once they found out you’d be here,” said Julie grinning widely.

Mel spoke. “I keep telling you, Joanie’s the greatest.”

Was I goanna argue with eight teenage girls? Well almost teenagers.

I almost wish I’d started out as a girl because strange as it sounds, I was enjoying this girly stuff or my inner child certainly was. They talked about school and their siblings. A few talked about makeup and pierced ears as they were old enough for their parents to allow it. A couple even talked about which boys were hot ~ooooh? ~ Somehow that got them asking about my makeup, eventually that lead to the inevitable, and no it wasn’t “do you have a boyfriend?”

“Joanie, what’s it like to be you?” a redheaded girl asked.

“Come again?”

“On the news they said you used to be this old guy, and now you’re a teenage girl and a mutant.” She seemed embarrassed asking me.

“It’s okay to ask, Debbie? I might not give a straight answer, but you can ask.” I smiled back. “I’m surprised myself how comfortable I am with this whole girl package. Plus the mutant powers are so kewl.” I said as I gestured along my body. “It was hard at first, learning what to do and not do and it was a change from my previous, um ... experience,” I explained; several girls giggled.

“Weren’t you scared, I’d be?”

“I was more in shock than scared. The transformation took so much out of me; I slept though most of it.”

“I’m amazed how well you’re handling it. If the TV hadn’t reported it I’d never suspect you used to be a man -- Mel had to confirm it, I didn’t believe at first,” Debbie said.

“Truth is I didn’t handle it well at first. I thought I was okay, then the first time I saw myself in a mirror I fainted, really.”

“Like in a movie?” one of the girls asked, it may have been Lisa.

“Just like one, the hospital has it on tape.”

“Why’d you faint? The shock of not being a man anymore or ‘cause you’re so much younger?” A tall and slender blonde asked.

“Kim is it?” She nodded. “Maybe both, the one thing I remember thinking about at the time was how young, pretty and sexy the image was. It was such a surprise how I looked, I thought for a moment that wasn’t me but some big poster like the hot new singers and actresses put out.” I was being very honest.

“Like your poster in my bedroom?” Kim said. Posters, there are more posters?

“You have one too? I thought Mel was the only one, and hers was part of a music store display,” I asked.

“You can get them all over the place now. I bought mine at Sam Goody. Chrissie got hers at some gift shop, and, Julie, where’d you get yours?” asked Kim.

“Walgreens.” the petite blonde said. “Same place I got my Barbie doll of you, Joanie,” Julie said.

“I’m on sale at Walgreens?”

~Ahooga, mass marketing gone amuck! I only signed the contract in September, this was fast. ~

“They sell you CD too; you were in the top 25 countdown last weekend,” Julie said.

“My songs are on the Billboard charts?”

“Crying is number seven this week, up from number 30 on the pop chart. You’re number three on the country chart,” said Chrissie. “VH1 ran the video from Mel’s birthday party last night.”

“Number seven and three after two weeks -- how will I ever go out in public again? I’ll never have another day’s privacy in my life.” This was upsetting, I started to cry.

“Face it, Joanie, you’re famous, like it or not,” Babs said from the doorway. I calmed down some.

“Hi, Babs,” I said.

The girls giggled in response.

“Hi yourself, Joanie, tell you girls something kewl; my husband’s campaign people took a poll this week. You know what a poll is?”

“Where they ask you who you’ll vote for and stuff?” Kim said.

“Exactly, they wanted to know how well known Mel’s Dad is for his re-election planners. More people could identify Joanie, by her name or picture and who she was, than they could Mel’s dad, and that poll was taken in Iowa.”

“Be afraid, be very afraid,” I muttered softly, Babs heard though.

She smiled her big smile and said, “Bob told me he hoped you’re not running for Governor because he might lose,” then Babs giggled.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, Joanie, cross my heart and hope to die not joking.” Bab’s inner child was staging a comeback.

~Ghod what is she wearing? ~

“Babs, is that a Babs Bunny sleep shirt you’re wearing? Ghod, you’ve got on the exact same bunny slippers I’m wearing, you bitch!”

I mimed a cat scratching. Babs leaned against the doorjamb to keep her balance, she was laughing so hard.

“Mel, your Dad and I were saving this for Christmas, but as all your best friends are here,” she smiled at me, “we thought you could have one early.” Babs smile was like the Cheshire cat, friendly but mildly worrisome.

“What is it, Mommy? Show me, show me, show me, please!” Mel was in full bounce mode.

A security aid wheeled in a large gift wrapped box then left.

“Are you gonna open it, Mel?” she said. Mel tore off the paper; it was a home karaoke machine.

“I have but one life to give for my country,” I said then mock hanged myself.

I was acting very mature ... for a five year old. We all helped set it up, and the words I’d been dreading were spoken.

“What yah gonna sing for us, Joanie?” someone asked.

“Yah got me, arrrrg!” I said in a pirate voice as I mimed being shot and spun to the floor.

The girls and I had lots of fun taking turns singing along with the included discs. Mel’s brother Eric even got in on the fun when Babs wasn’t looking.

“You were making such a racket I had to see what was going on.”

That and since he was a couple years older and girls mature faster, the temptation of so many girls in skimpy night attire was too temping. I just knew what he’d be doing once he got back to his room. Yours truly would likely be featured in his ... fantasizeations. Writing about it months later makes me nervous, and there’s this odd twinge down in my ... Marvelous, I’m fantasizing about underage boys. Must be near my time of the month, euw! But that ended weeks ago, and why now as I’m ... Ghods, I’m fantasizing about Eric. I’ll have to call Sara and ask her about that one.

Before we went to sleep, the girls begged for a demonstration of my powers.

“Ok, I guess but nothing too big, let’s keep it safe,” I said.

I threw a soda can in the air and time-stopped it. I’d been practicing my fine control by time-stopping small objects and was pretty good at it.

“Oh my Ghod, Joanie, that’s so ... uh, can I touch it?” Lisa asked.

“You can try.”

She couldn’t get her hand nearer than a foot due to the time differential acting as a force field.

“Catch, Lisa,” I called then released the can.

She was so startled, she nearly didn’t grab it. They each had to have a try, but I didn’t mind, and they gave me such warm hugs afterward I cried from joy. It’s so nice to have friends.

* * * *

I woke early in the morning, my bladder aching for relief, surprised to find Mel spooned tight against me with an arm around my waist. It felt so nice, Mel was a very cuddly young lady; she’d make a great mother someday.

~Why did I think of that? Don’t tell me I’m warming up to the idea of motherhood already? The Horror! ~

Us gals got cleaned up, ate breakfast and called home for rides. I went to my car to load up, Eric insisting on carrying my bag for me, probably so he could walk behind me and ogle my legs and ass. He made a very astute comment as we approached my Focus.

“Miss Joanie,” he kept calling me Miss Joanie, either he’s very polite or he’s trying to get me to like him. He wants a date?

~Oh this would be wonderful, “Hey Dad, meet my date. He’s only 35 years younger than me.” That would go over great — not. But still? Put it out of your mind Joanie. Ms. Libido, I told you to behave, if you don’t behave, no Mr. Pulsating Shower sprayer tonight. ~

“Miss Joanie,” he said again, “You may want to reconsider leaving right now, looks like the press found out you’re here.”

I carefully turned and saw an army of reporters and the general public. My Focus and I were outmatched. With this mob that A1A Abrams tank would be outmatched.

“Oh lovely, Eric, would you be a nice man and find your mother, then wait with her in the media room, I have an idea.” I gave him as sultry a smile as I could and stared into his eyes.

“Uh, sure Miss Joanie,” he said, his voice cracking.

~Hope I didn’t lay it on too thick. ~

We met in the room minutes later.

“Babs, Eric told you about my pest control problem?” I asked.

“You mean the plague of reporters? Kinda figured that would happen when all those helpful older brothers came last night. Eric says you have a plan? Cum’mon girl, give.”

”Three ways to go I think, bold as brass, diversion or camouflage. Bold as brass is simple but painful. I drive out not a care in the world. Maybe even give the press a quick quote. This is my when all else fails position. Diversion, as the other girls leave I go out the back way. That puts a lot of burden on you to distract the press, and we could have a nasty traffic accident if the press gets wind of my leaving. Camouflage, I dress as non-Joanie as possible and leave with the crowd. My Wisconsin plates are the problem, a dead give away. I’ve considered using my time-stop, but the area I need to cover is too big, and it would strain me so much I might pass out behind the wheel, very dangerous for all,” I explained.

“So what’s the plan? I’d like to help, Miss Joanie,” Eric asked.

~My, he sure wants to look good in my eyes, smart kid. ~

“Camouflage and diversion but I need the loan of some Iowa plates, that and I need you, Mel and Eric, you’re the diversion. You drive to the gate, tell the press they missed me, and you’re going out to eat. Preferably some kid-friendly restaurant the press hates and won’t follow you to, Chunky Cheese perhaps. I’ll drive out with the others right after you, and meet you there or some other place to return the plates or even mail them back. With the Iowa plates, I can be explained as a young campaign volunteer helping out with last nights party -- it’s worth a try.”

Eric left and soon came back with some plates and a screw driver. We went to switch mine when I realized my error.

“This won’t work, Eric; they can see me change the plates. Time for bold as brass, I’ll just have to drive out with the rest.”

We walked back into Terrace Hill, “Thanks for trying, Eric, that was very kind of you.”

I gave him a quick hug and a kiss. I swore he was blushing. Hey, he’d earned that hug.

“Good luck, Miss Joanie.”

“Thanks I’ll need it, Eric.” I gave Babs and Mel quick hugs and kisses, ~must be a girl thing ~ said my goodbyes to the rest of the sleepover guests and finished dressing.

I wore my leather Indiana Joan outfit, It was warm, comfortable and retailored with carbon fiber to short out Tazers. The light weight Kevlar layer didn’t hurt either. I waited until several cars were leaving and got into line with them behind a minivan and prayed for luck. Babs, Mel and Eric made a big fuss over a vehicle loading behind me so the press was distracted. I hoped this would be enough. With sunglasses on and a ball cap I drove to and out of the gate. I’d made it onto the road before I was spotted. I drove off at a safe speed, knowing they now had my make, color and plate. I hope that GG and my other friends at MSG had done their job and protected my records.

“Well there goes the neighborhood,” I said.

I thought of what might happen when the press matched my plates to the Wisconsin DMV records. My ray of hope was if GG managed to expunge all my old records and change the name and address to my current one, which was a PO Box at the University Hospital, at least my dad, sister, old friends and relatives would be safe. The worry was someone might have an old copy of the database, but that was nothing we could do anything about. Some press tried to follow, but the Iowa police kept them on their toes, and I soon lost them. I didn’t speed; I just have a stealth car. It’s nothing hi-tech, no James Bond gadgets, simply a light grayish green — light tundra Ford calls it — four-door car like my Focus is so common, it blends right in. It’s like that old ad parody about the VW Beetle being the perfect get-a-way car.

All the way back to Madison something troubled me, but I couldn’t think what it was. I was soon back to my halfway-house apartment and my car safely in its locked garage. I gave my Dad and sister a heads-up call to be safe and got seriously into researching and financing “The Plan.” Yes, I know “The Gang of Three” called my new look “The Plan”, but it’s not copy-written, so there. I went to bed tired but thankful I’d pulled off my escape, and then I realized what had bothered me all day. Why when I hugged and kissed Babs, Mel and Eric did I kiss the girls on the cheek but Eric on the lips? I still don’t know why, and it’s a over a month later. It scares the willies out of me, am I sexually attracted to men? It was bound to happen, and I know Alex and a few others have excited me, but why Eric? Maybe the doctors at Whateley can help me figure that one out too. Their head doctors will have their hands full with me.

* * * *

To be continued
Next stop Whateley

Revised 09/04/2006
Special thanks to my evil blonde sister for proofing assistance.

Notes:

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