Welcome to my first FOP fic. Hope you enjoy it. The title might change, though.
Safe in Your Hands
The door opened, allowing a tangled jumble of smoke and noise to flood out into the street. The fire alarm was jangling, and someone in the kitchen had turned up a Chip Skylark CD to cover up the sound.
Timmy Turner sighed, waved goodbye to his friend Chester, and took his first step inside, closing the door behind him. The first thing he did was pull the footstool they left out in the hall up and turned off the fire alarm. Then he headed to the kitchen and turned off the stereo on the table.
"Timmy! Welcome home!" his dad was standing in the middle of the room, stomping down on an oven mitt that was still flaming. He pointed to a smoking pan filled with some unidentifiable black substance still sitting on the stove. "Look! I made dinner!"
"Yay?" Timmy rolled his eyes. "Dad, there's a fire extinguisher under the sink. I'll make dinner, okay?"
"Oh, okay," his father looked a little crest-fallen, but he grabbed the extinguisher and put out the smoldering oven mitt. "I just went grocery shopping, we should have plenty of food!"
"Thanks," Timmy headed to the window and opened it, turning on the fan above the stove. "I'm not very hungry, so I'll just make something for you."
Ten minutes later his dad was happily eating an egg-salad sandwich, and Timmy made his way to his room.
"Don't stay up all night doing homework!" his father warned him.
"It's Friday," he replied loudly, heading up the stairs. "I'm not doing any homework tonight."
"That's right! It is Friday! I don't have work tomorrow! Score!"
Timmy smiled a bit before he went into his room, closing the door behind him. He let the backpack he had nearly forgotten in the kitchen fall to the floor. It landed with a thunk and tipped over onto its side.
It was up in his room that everything began to crash down around him. He sighed and trudged to his bed, collapsing on it face first. After a few minutes he turned over and stared at the ceiling.
"Tomorrow. . ." he muttered to himself, then sat up.
He stared. There was a table next to his door that hadn't been there just a moment before. On that table was a glass bowl full of water and two goldfish floating side by side near a small, deformed purple castle.
He blinked, and they blinked back.
Can goldfish blink? he wondered. He got up off of the bed and went to take a closer look.
He blinked at the goldfish.
They blinked their green and pink eyes back at him. He noticed they had little crowns above their heads just before the green-eyed goldfish began to tremble, and then it began swimming in quick, excited circles around the bowl.
Can goldfish have seizures. . .?
"TIMMY!" the green-eyed fish exclaimed. "Timmy! Timmy Timmy Timmy!"
He yelled and sat down, hard. It was a minor miracle that he didn't faint on the spot.
"Can we tell him?" apparently the question was directed at the other fish. "Canwecanewecanwe?"
"Oh, all right," the other fish sighed. They lifted their fins, grinning like mad at him. Tiny, star-tipped wands appeared in the water.
In a flash of light and a whirl of color, the fish rose spinning from the bowl. One of them popped into a tiny, green-haired man in a white dress- shirt, a black tie and matching slacks. He had the same little crown on his head and the wand was in his hand. There were wings on his back.
"I'm Cosmo!" he exclaimed.
"And I'm Wanda!" the other fish had become a pink-haired woman the same size as the man in a yellow shirt and black jeans. She had the crown, wand, and wings, too.
"And we're. . ." the bowl and table disappeared, replaced by a huge, block- lettered sign complete with flood lights and a small disco ball. "You're Fairy God Parents!"
"At least, we were," Cosmo added thoughtfully as the sign and lights disappeared in a puff of smoke.
----Haha. I love Cosmo. Well, please tell me what you think! I have a lot planned. Mwahahahahahaha!