Author's Note: I love Skittery. He deserves as many fanfics as possible, right? And I feel like I owe this to him, considering the last fic I wrote had him as a felonious homicidal murderer. Well, in this one he starts off puking. Hmm. Not much better, I daresay. . .

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. No Burger Kings, no Nirvana, no Beaver Creek, no airplanes, no newsies, just the cozy PJ's I happen to be wearing right now.


"If it's all the same to you"

Chapter One

I have never been a particularly fun person to travel with. I have a somewhat irrational loathing of big crowds, I get carsick very easily, I am a pessimist, and I absolutely HATE airports. There are too many people with too many bags and too many lines for the bathroom and too many Burger Kings.

The last two happen to be the major reasons why I now found myself bent double on the floor, puking my heart out. Nah, more like puking my stomach out. . .

"Holy shit, Skittery, y'alright?" said Mush.

I looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked sardonically. "Yes, I am perfectly fine, Mush, thanks."

"Ya know, Skitts, you are the only person I have EVER heard being witty and sarcastic while throwing up all over the floor," said Blink, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "Chill out, dude, he was only trying to help."

I was just about to reply that I didn't really consider asking rhetorical questions "help", but I never got around to it because just then my stomach tightened convulsively and I retched again.

"So it must have been the Burger King that made you toss you cookies," said Snitch thoughtfully, leaning over it and wrinkling his nose.

"More like 'toss his burgers'!" said Itey. He cracked up and hopped away. "Heh heh, toss his burgers. . .man, I'm a riot."

Snitch blinked, then continued smoothly, "I was thinking that it would be the week-old cold pizza you ate for breakfast this morning-"

"I did NOT eat week-old cold pizza for breakfast this morning," I corrected. "I ate the mashed potatoes with the baked beans I found in the fridge."

"Oh, forgive me!" sobbed Snitch sarcastically. "You ate the week-old cold pizza YESTERDAY morning."

"Thank you."

"Well that's what we're supposed to do at college, ain't it?" said Race factually. "To eat nasty stuff we find in the fridge. Anyways, I personally feel that pizza tastes better after it has sat in the refrigerator for a good 24 hours or more."

"Now when you say fridge, are you referring to the average WORKING refrigerator?" Snitch cut in. "Because I've noticed that the one in our fraternity doesn't seem to have any effect on the food we put into it, let alone keep anything cold."

"It makes suspicious noises too," Race agreed. "And yes, I was referring to a working refrigerator."

I noticed that Spot had been staring at me for quite a while, his jaw scraping the floor (just as I had been staring at Snitch, but for an entirely different reason). "Well?" I demanded.

"You- ATE the mashed potatoes and baked beans?" he choked out.

"Yeah. . .?"

"Do you have any idea what was IN that crap???"

I raised my eyebrows mildly, thinking. "I give up. What?"

"You know. . ." He glanced to the side and leaned closer. "The stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"The stuff! Over by the thing?"

"Oh, THAT stuff."


"Wait- I fucking ATE that shit????"

Spot smiled reassuringly- or was it cruelly contentedly? I couldn't tell. He's a confusing little person, if you ask me. "Hey, it's only about a year old. . .It could have been a lot moldier, too, there was merely an inch-thick layer of cobwebby stuff covering the-"

That was when I collapsed to my knees and puked again.


It was winter break, and most of my fraternity and I had decided to go on an elaborate vacation skiing in Beaver Creek, Colorado.

Hey, I had never heard of it, either. And I must say, I caught myself wondering why the hell anyone in their right mind would want to name a town Beaver Creek. Puts downright bizarre images in my mind, if you ask me. . .

Alas, no one ever seems to bother to ask me.

(Melodramatic sigh.)

We all piled onto the plane, and I somehow ended up between Dutchy (who was undoubtedly about to spend the four-hour ride making out with Specs) and Itey (who was undoubtedly about to spend the four-hour ride singing Veggie Tales songs to his teddy bear named Fred.) Needless to say, I was not in a very good mood.

I looked out the window as we took off, and Itey starting explaining to Fred why his ears felt like they were going to explode. "Four hours," I murmured, and slid down in my seat and covered my face with my hands.

I like Itey. I really do. He's just a little too intense for me sometimes, especially in small confined areas.

"Alright, so who killed Skittery?" said Snitch, leaning over from the seat in front of mine.

"Me!" said Itey.

"I'm not surprised, somehow," Snitch answered bleakly.

"Someone needs a hug from Mr. Freddy!" said Itey happily.

"No, Itey, get that thing away from-"

"Come on, you KNOW you want a hug!"

"NO, Itey!"

"Yes you do! You want a big, FUZZY hug from Mr. Freddy!!!"

"Ack, don't touch me with that thing, it smells weird- ITEY! I'M GONNA-"

I took my hands off my face. "You know, people generally don't appreciate it when other passengers yell at teddy bears," I informed them.

Snitch looked around. Just about everybody was glaring at the pair of them so hard, I was surprised they didn't have smoke coming out of their ears. "If looks could kill," said Itey. "Sheesh." He then went back to his one- sided discussion with Fred.

Snitch grinned at me. He has the most amazingly contagious grin in the world. "So. You got landed with the kid who talks to teddy bears and the two love-birds, eh?"

I glanced over at Specs and Dutchy, who were discreetly making out across the aisle. (The "discreetly" part was sarcastic, you know; Dutchy was pretty much on Specs' lap. . .) I looked back at Snitch, and then quickly looked away again. He was too. . .

Because, if you haven't caught on already, I am in love with Snitch Murphy. It's been a serious problem for me lately, especially since I narrowly missed puking on his feet about an hour ago. But I love everything about him- the way he looks at the world, his self-assured way of thinking, his subtle sense of humor, and his tongue.

Yeah, I know I shouldn't be looking at another guy's tongue like that. But I mean seriously, he has one of the most amazing tongues you are ever going to see.

"Yeah," I answered finally. "Who're you sitting with?"

"Race and Bumlets," said Snitch easily. "Bumlets is just reading a book (a really boring one, might I add) and Race is listening to Nirvana in his headphones extremely loud."

We both listened for a second. I could faintly hear, "With the light out, it's less dangerous! Here we are now, entertain us! I feel stupid and contagious! Here we are now, entertain us!"

"Well at least it's a good song," said Snitch optimistically, smiling again.

"Yeah, but not that great if you were planning on sleeping on this flight."

"Well I wasn't planning on sleeping on this flight."

"Oh. Well that's good then."


Just then, the flight attendant's voice came on: "This flight does include a movie, which we will be starting shortly. The movie is 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and is rated PG-13. If you wish to view it, you may purchase headphones from the flight attendants."

I looked at Snitch. "Well? Whaddaya think?"

"I think I want Race to listen to U2 instead of Nirvana, Kurt Cobain's voice starts to tick me off after a while."

"I meant do you want to watch the movie," I corrected dully.

"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, why not? That Johnny Depp is- a great actor."

"Yeah." And he's really hot too, Snitch. But not as hot as you, of course. No one can compare to-

"Excuse me, sir, would you like a pair of headphones?" asked the flight attendant, smiling that classic fake flight-attendant smile.

"Uh." I smiled. "Sure."

I mean, why not? Not that I have anything against Fred and his "FUZZY HUGS!", but I personally would rather watch Johnny Depp for a couple of hours. His tongue reminds me of Snitch's.

I have a tongue fetish, if you haven't already guessed.


Author's Note: Why can't I ever write a story where Skittery is NORMAL? He's possibly nuttier than in my other story. . .nah, nevermind. Anyways, please review! I'll love you forever! It should get more interesting as the story progresses. . .or else I will fail miserably as a writer. Hooray! lol