DiabloCat: Just a short fic on something that fascinated me. Basic plot: Skinner revealing his...confession. Yes, I decided I'd been ignoring poor Skinner lately and he needed another fic. Enjoy.
I have a confession to make.
Well, that's not quite right. 'Confession' sounds like I've got something terrible or humiliating to say. It's embarrassing all right, but not humiliating, and definitely not terrible. At least, I don't think so; don't think anyone else would think so either, less they're wrong in the head.
Sorry. I'm babbling. Tend to do that sometimes. Maybe that's why everyone always tells me to shut up. Now where was I? Ah, that's right – my confession, that isn't a confession.
I sleep with my head under the blankets.
There, it's out. Sounds pretty stupid, huh? A grown man sleeping with his head under the blankets. Not that anyone notices. Guess there are advantages to being invisible. Mind you, if I wasn't invisible I wouldn't sleep with my head hidden.
It's not cos I'm afraid of the dark or anything. Nah, haven't been afraid of the dark for years. When you're a thief, the dark is your friend. It's not a comfort thing. It's a practical thing.
You see, my eyelids are invisible. Well, considering the rest of me is, it'd be stupid if they weren't. Pair of eyelids floating around the place would be down-right weird. But it causes problems. Closing your eyes doesn't work. Neither does putting a hand over 'em. You just keep staring straight in front.
Well, not quite straight in front. Not many people are aware of his, but when you close your eyes, they roll up inside your head. That means whenever I shut my peepers, I end up gawking out the top of my head. And let me tell you, it's bloody disturbing.
So, I sleep with my head under the blankets.
It's amazing what kind of stuff I have to do. Sleeping with my head under the blankets is just one thing of many.
As is well known, I have to whack white face-paint on if I want to be seen. I have to walk around starkers if I DON'T want to be seen. I have to wear a full get-up in public, no matter how bloody hot it may be, or there'll be panic. Tempting, but no.
Not to mention the fact I have to help save the world every second day.
That bit ain't too bad. At least I get free room and board. Plus a whole bunch of nagging friends. They're the ones responsible for the chorus of 'shut-up's I get whenever I open my mouth. But, like I said, it ain't too bad.
Well, I got my confession out. Though it ain't really a confession...nah, don't worry, I'm just kidding with you. I won't go through that again.
See you round – though I doubt you can say the same, right?
DiabloCat: Who's Skinner talking to? Himself. God. His invisible friend (ha ha). You. It doesn't really matter. It's just him talking, or thinking, or praying, or whatever.
Hope you enjoyed it. I live to please.
Reviews much welcomed.