Synopsis:

Another BigCloset TopShelf story.

Our heroine gets an odd dorm-room, has fun at lunch, meets some nasty students and gets a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to use a classic catch-phrase. She does all this while keeping a low profile -- NOT!

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 2-Pause/Record/Fast-forward: 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 still sort of my first attempt a TG/sci-fi piece, thought I’m getting better, honest. Constructive criticism and advice is welcome. This is for fun and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Take it in that spirit. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents is for purposes of humor or parody, which saves my butt. I 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. Just be careful if you use their payphone booth. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Timeout 2

By John from Wauwatosa

Chapter 1-Poe, Lunch, the Omegas and Sorry About that Chief

December 13, 2006 Whateley Academy, 12:00pm EST

Dear diary/journal/whatever, when Sara said Whateley was an ‘interesting’ school, she wasn’t kidding. I thought things were pretty strange at MSG -- good thing I started out there because this place would have overwhelmed me then. I could write pages just about the food choices or what some have to eat as food, based on just one lunch and supper’s worth of experience. From what I’ve heard, I missed one of the really strange ones -- there’s this girl who sucks the souls or the life energies out of living things, part demon they claim.

I’m taking time this evening to catch-up on my entries, girl are there a ton of them, busy day. I e-mailed those two polite girls I met on the train; that should blow their parent’s minds. I sent a carbon-copy to Mel and Babs suggesting they might make good pen pals as the two girls are Mel’s age. I’m thinking of setting up an account just for fan e-mail, to keep it separate from my friends and official stuff. Mel’s told me how her friends are begging for my e-mail address -- time to throw her a bone. Instant-messaged Carrie and Sara and gave them the details to ship a big Wisconsin fruit and cheese basket to the AMTRAK Conductress who caught the error in my berthing. I’m mailing a CD on my own from here. Now, what all happened today?

* * * *

Ms Carson’s staff provided me with a campus map and the toughest looking laptop I’d ever seen. They claimed it was nearly bulletproof, but I was responsible for loss or damage. I also received a student ID, visiting scholar ID and staff ID, all with photo, smartcard and biometric features. I’m going to drive people crazy with all these ID’s; I get a security ID later this week. The staff is devising a suggested class list, so I can audit and get a feel for what I need to take when I formally enter class in fall. With the security training, research work, teaching and evaluations, my schedule will be full. I’ll know better tomorrow after meeting with several department heads.

I was given an abbreviated campus tour and introduced to the house mother at Poe, a Mrs. Horton. She led me to the third floor.

“I’m Mrs. Horton, your house mother -- you must be Miss Brown. We got Ms Carson’s memo to find you a room just two days ago. Sorry it’s a bit sparse, Joan, but it’s the best we could do on short notice -- at least it’s a single with a nice view of the grounds.” The sign on the door said linen stores; she seemed embarrassed when I saw it. “Ladies room and showers down the hall; you’ll have to share, but you look like a high school girl so think of it like PE, and you’ll do great.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Ms. Carson said this would be temporary until they can get me staff accommodations.”

“You’re staff; you look so young, how old are you, Joan?” She looked surprised.

“One week before this Christmas I turn 49,” I said and smiled.

“Forty-nine? Wait a minute, you look familiar, even sound familiar. I swear I’ve seen you before somewhere?”

My inner child took over, reached in my panniers and took out a CD and publicity photo.

~Joanie, what are you doing? Bug off, Joan, Joanie wants to play. ~ She’s willful some times.

“Here, for you.” I started unpacking the luggage I’d shipped ahead. “Mrs. Horton, how late do they serve lunch to, ah Mrs. Horton?”

She snapped out of it. “Sorry, didn’t realize we had another celebrity. They don’t start the switch over to dinner until after two usually.”

She was most pleasant and helpful, so I personalized the CD and photo for her favorite niece, a fan apparently. Meanwhile little Joanie was quietly giggling.

I secured my school and personal laptops, then changed out of my cycle gear. I decided on the stealth approach, so I went the whole Joanie route as Joanie Junior was now fully in charge. That meant leather everything except underwear.

As a going away gift, Gin gave me this kid leather crop top/shorts combo she made she claims I can wear au natural. I modeled it for her and the Gang; it was comfortable, and she did show me how to clean and care for it but still. My nipples and um other items showed right through. Joanie Junior was sorely tempted but listened to reason when I reminded her it was 55F today, warm for mid December but not enough for that. We’ll save it for next time I see them. If Joanie Junior and my libido ever team up, Ghods!

I put on my favorites, the Steve Zink number elevens; Delrin capped five inch Duralumin heels on knee-high black leather boots with a wide cuff on the top right out of an old pirate movie. Form-fitting, butter-soft leather pants, a half-cup lace trimmed bra and panty set, red silk blouse with a deep v-neck, sleeveless leather vest combined with my MSG bomber jacket completed the outfit, a silver banana clip from Mel keeping my hair in check. I carried a silk scarf and leather gloves in my bomber jacket if needed, I considered wearing mirrored aviator shades, but that would have been too much don’t yah think?

~Ghod sometimes I act like such a teenager. ~

I walked the busy third floor corridor, students passing to and fro.

“Hi there, Red, visiting?” a girl coming up called out as I turned down the stairs.

“New student off to lunch, name’s Joanie, yours?” I asked the short-haired Asian girl.

“Steel Lotus, my code name that is, real name Jenny or Jen Chang.”

“I’m Joan Brown, code name, Timeout, but I don’t use it much. Call me Joanie.”

“Glad to meet you, Joanie. I just realized how much you look like that new singer Joanie. You must get mistaken for her all the time, huh.”

“It’s worse than that.” I tried to keep a straight face, not easy.

“How’s that?”

“I am Joanie, catch yah later, Jen.”

Her eyes went wide; I blew her a kiss and sashayed down the stairs. I may have overdone the wiggling ‘cause as I was about to exit, I heard a commotion.

“You see that tall girl with redish blond hair? Damn but she’s the image of that mutant singer Joanie,” someone said.

“She’s visiting or a student?” another asked.

“I think she’s staying in Poe, I heard a new student was assigned here today,” said a third.

“What’s her name?” said another.

“Joanie Brown, the singer,” I shouted back.

~That’ll confuse them. ~

I hurried to the sparkling geodesic dome of the Crystal Hall.

* * * *

Crossing campus, I thought I heard a few wolf whistles. I entered, slipped off my bomber and slung it over my shoulder.

“Excuse me, which way to the food?” I asked a group of older students.

I heard grumbles, then one turned and pointed.

“Over that way, far side.” Then he turned back. ”New student, great!” he muttered.

“Thanks, handsome,” I said very sultry, then I slinked my way towards the food lines, looking back occasionally.

“Yah sure,” he replied, seconds later he spun back, nearly knocking one of his group down and gestured my way. “Shit, it’s her!”

I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. I grabbed a tray and picked out a few items.

“ID card?” the student cashier asked curtly.

“Oh, sorry I’m new.”

“Just hand me the card, kid.” She swiped it through a reader. “Have it ready next time, Newbie, or you’ll hold up the line.”

~A bit grouchy, needs cheering up. ~

“Hi, I’m Joanie, I just arrived today.”

“Yah and I’m Brittany Spears,” she said in a New Jersey, Fran Dresser voice that projected tough girl attitude.

“See yah, Brittney!” I said happily, turned and left.

“See yah...“

I looked back as her face froze.

“Joanie?”

~She seems flustered, I wonder why? ~

I chose a quiet spot near the windows and waited for the fun to begin. I hung my bomber across my chair back, removed the banana clip and shook out my hair. Adjusting my top and bra got the result I wanted; I heard a crash and looked up to see a bus person had pushed his cart into a table and fallen to the floor. I stood up and bent down.

“Are you okay?” I said as those present got a rare look deep down my cleavage, before colliding with each other.

~I’ll have to remember that move, very useful. Right, that’s what I did to Eric. Can’t be serious all the time, Joanie, got to play sometime -- you don’t suppose I’m becoming a tease? Nah! ~

I finished, tossed my trash and put the tray back; I owed the bus persons after my “stunt.” For the most part the students ignored me or simply noted my passing; I wasn’t the first celebrity here. I planned on spending the rest of the day moving in and checking out the campus. The extended behind the scenes tour would wait until tomorrow. I was putting on my bomber when I heard the radio - over the sound system - playing one of my songs, a new one at that.

“Hey, I don’t sound half bad,” I said to no one in particular.

I was in a good mood, so I started to sing along softly with myself; that sure felt strange. It was one we’d recorded but not used on the CD, I think they released it to persuade me to do that follow up CD. I was soon carried away with my singing not noticing the crowd I was collecting. I realized this when the song stopped and there had to be fifty pairs of eyes staring at me.

“That was a just released remake of the Roy Orbison classic, Running Scared by teen sensation Joanie, who is taking a break from performing to attend a private prep school in New Hampshire. We’ll miss you, girl,” the radio announced.

“If that don’t beat all,” said an onlooker.

“My Ghod it’s her!” said another.

~Maybe I’ve gone too far here? Time to face the music, pun not intended. ~

“As if someone like her would attend school here,” I said in a sarcastic tone and gesturing wildly. “I mean do I look like some six foot tall, busty, strawberry blond, leather clad, mutant teen-temptress singer?” The crowd stared glassy eyed. “What do you take me for, huh?”

~That confused um, they didn’t expect good-ole boldfaced lying. ~

“But who are you?”

“Hi, Joanie!”

“Hi, Jen!” I said to Steel Lotus as she passed.

“Hi, I’m Joanie. Did you like my new single?” I laughed and beat a hasty retreat out of Crystal Hall.

As the doors closed behind me I swear I heard this older-looking security officer say, “Ghod not another one!”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I suspected I would soon find out.

* * * *

I spent the afternoon poking in various buildings and checking out the campus grounds. The weather remained mild for December, so I sat on a bench off a main path people-watching. I saw an incredible range of people passing by, some barely recognizable as human. I realized how lucky I’d been, turning into an attractive girl was nothing compared to what some had endured. I looked normal, as normal as any six foot plus flaming haired sex pot could, but overall I’d come up trumps. I saw people who I’m afraid I momentarily considered freaks, much to my personal shame. I’d learn painfully over the next few weeks that appearance has nothing to do with character. I knew this in my heart and mind, but it’s hard to break long ingrained prejudice despite the best efforts of my parents. I’d sat there a while when a group of students walked up to me.

“You’re sitting on our bench.”

~Our bench? ~

“Did you say our bench?” I asked politely.

“Yes, and if you’re smart, you’ll get off it... now. This is Omega property,” said the obvious leader.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was yours. I’m new here. Hi, I’m Joanie” I smiled but watched them with care. “Strange but I didn’t see a plaque.”

“Plaque?” the leader asked.

“A little brass, copper, laminated plastic or stainless-steel tag engraved with the name of the owner or who donated it.”

~Not the brightest our leader. ~

“It don’t need no stinkn’ plaque, it’s Omega because we say it’s so. “

~And he was so close to doing the line from The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. ~

My humor got pushed aside by the outrage that was building.

“So it’s really Whateley school property for anyone’s use, and you claim it’s yours by intimidation.”

I’d not moved, and they were getting angry. We were attracting a crowd; I swear I saw someone taking bets.

~Well Sara did say this was an interesting school. Sounds more like the alleged Chinese curse, may you live in interesting times. ~

“So you’re not leaving our bench?” the leader asked.

“Not your bench, sorry, you’re free to use it later, but for now I like it.” I could feel someone pushing me hard, but no one touched me. “Who’s the wise ass trying to TK me off the bench -- naughty naughty?”

I braced myself and held on tight, he or she was powerful.

“Enough with subtlety, kick the bitch off,” the leader barked. One gang member grabbed my jacket collar and pulled hard.

“Stop that, you’ll damage it, it’s a gift.” In the corner of my vision I saw a girl conjure/produce/whatever a ball of multicolored fire. “Awe and this was such a good day,” I exclaimed. The girl started to throw the ball of flame, but they’d made a mistake, they were all close to me. “Timeout!” I shouted, and they stopped.

During the time-stop I rearranged things. When time returned to normal they were sitting in their underwear, tied to their bench with some of their clothes and shoelaces. I stood ten feet away, the remnants of their shoes and their coats smoldering in a mesh trash basket between us.

~Their trash basket, I’ll bet. ~

From my point of reference it took five or ten minutes, from that of the crowd, five or ten seconds.

“Your group is well named: Omega the last letter in the Greek alphabet. You certainly aren’t first rate by any standard. Next time you children try to bully someone, don’t, you’ll get hurt. Sorry about the clothes, but that fireball was going to waste. Send me the bill though I doubt I’ll pay it,” I turned to leave.

“You’re not just leaving us, bitch!”

~So he’s a professional idiot. ~

“You’re lucky I didn’t remove anything other than your clothes, little man.” I made a scissors motion aimed appropriately; Girl was I pissed. I started to shake.

“Don’t worry, security will be here soon, see the CCTV cameras. For future reference the name is Joanie, got it?”

I walked quickly away past a tall clump of bushes, which I ran behind and promptly puked my entire lunch.

~Oh I hate that. ~

I was still shaking, but the vomiting and dry heaves had stopped when I heard someone walk up and cough for my attention.

“Ahem, Miss, are you okay? Do you want a doctor?”

I straightened up, wiped my mouth with a clean handkerchief and looked for the source of the voice. It belonged to a fit, middle-aged man in uniform with a Whateley Academy Security badge pinned on his jacket. From all the doodads on his uniform he was a senior officer, and then I saw the name tag, Chief Delarose.

~Crap crap crap crap crap! Here not one day, and I’m about to be shown the door, endowment not withstanding. So much for The Plan. ~

“Are you here to arrest me, officer?”

I let him do the rest of the speaking; I’d learned something in Carrie’s Woman 101.

“Why would I arrest you, Joanie? I can call you ‘Joanie’, Miss Brown?”

“Ah sure,” I said confused.

~He knows my name? Well it is on the jacket. Hey, he knows my last name, that’s not on anything. ~

“How do you know my name, Officer..?”

“Chief Delarose, Joanie. I talked with Ms. Carson yesterday, seems you’re a pet project. That and I caught the end of your concert at Crystal Hall. If I may say, you have a lovely voice.” He smiled.

“Th_thanks Chief Delarose, You sure you’re not here to arrest me for fighting?”

“The Omega’s; don’t quote me, but serves um right. I’ve enough troubles with fights between individuals, turf wars and the occasional criminal. We get all kinds here, it’s the Whateley way. I saw you on the CCTV, you simply defended yourself. Burning the clothes was a bit much, but you hurt no one, and they clearly would have hurt you. For someone who appears so young and inexperienced, you move incredibly fast. Are you a speedster or energizer? I ask because Ms. Carson said you’d expressed an interest in becoming a part-time or auxiliary officer.”

“I’m older that I look Chief Delarose, much older.“ I paused to let it register. “I’m a warper and manipulate time. I’m really no faster than a normal human.”

So I lied by omission, I’m faster that nearly any human alive, I’m just not superhuman.

“So you’re that ‘Joanie’. I thought I remembered you from somewhere. That’s how you saved Miss Johnson last Labor Day. I see your skills have improved. Very good work, Officer Trainee Brown,” he said, earning some serious brownie points by remembering Melissa’s name.

~Officer trainee? ~

“You’ll give me a try?” I’d calmed some but was excited by his news.

“Absolutely, from what Ms. Carson told me, and what I saw on the CCTV today, and in the news last year, you have potential. Just promise if you’re going to get sick every time you fight, please don’t do it in the Security Office, the carpet is new.” He laughed an amused but world weary laugh. I liked him, he was down to earth in a Dirty Harry Callahan meets Andy Taylor way. He was also very fit in a sexy, older...”

~Not again, down libido, down girl! ~

I regained my composure.

“I’ll try not to, Chief. Nerves I guess, or it’s my time of the month. Sorry about that, Chief.” He gave me an odd look. “I’ve always wanted to use that Get Smart line, but I never had the proper occasion.” I smiled, and we both laughed.

“My pleasure,” he said, smiled and bowed.

~My what a charming man, I wonder if her married? Whoa Momma! ~

“I’m new at this female business, Ms. Carson told you about me?” I asked him.

“You mean that the press was correct about you being a middle-aged man before your mutation? Surprisingly you’re not unique in that, it’s happened before.”

His face lit up like he’d received some wonderful gift, or the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders were running towards him, naked in slow motion.

~Ooooh that last image has me feeling all hot and bothered, hormones and a dirty mind, a dangerous combination. ~

“I think I’ll assign Samantha Everheart as your training supervisor. She’s one of our newest officers, but highly qualified and you two have so much in common, it’s perfect.”

He looked supremely satisfied with himself. I choose not to upset him.

“Thank you, Chief Delarose, I’m glad you’re taking an interest. Is it okay if I go to my room in Poe and clean up, or do I need to file a report first?” I asked very respectfully with just a hint of sultriness in my voice.

I wanted to make a good impression, and even if I’d wanted to, it’s hard not to sound sultry with my voice and looks.

“No rush, we can take care of that tomorrow if necessary. You’re tentatively scheduled for introductions in the security office at 10:30 AM sharp, Officer Trainee Joanie.”

I gave him my best salute; I am an ex-Boy Scout, more an ex-boy these days. Gees, maybe I’m one of the X-men? Maybe I can get a cape like Storm’s?

“Very sharp, Joanie, but you’ll find we’re pretty informal. See you tomorrow.”

He walked towards the ‘Omega’ bench, I hightailed it to Poe.

* * * *

To be continued

Revised 09/10/2006
Special thanks to my evil blonde sister for proofing assistance

Notes:

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