A/N: Yet another insane chapter! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and I apologize for making people think of Zelenka whenever the word "squishy" is mentioned :D
Chapter Four: Puddles
"This is impossible," Rodney murmured, "completely defies the laws of physics."
As I glanced around the office-that-had-been-infirmary, I said, "Everything about this whole day defies the laws of physics."
"So you are behind all of this," Rodney exclaimed triumphantly, pointing a finger at me, "I knew you were, because nothing else explains everything."
"What do you mean, 'everything'?" Sheppard asked, raising his voice to drown out McKay. "I think maybe you'd better tell us who you are, and what you know."
I looked down at my folded hands, noticing that they were clenched so tight that my knuckles were white. I forced myself to relax, and color slowly returned to them, as I thought about what to say. I couldn't tell them the whole truth, because I wasn't entirely sure they'd believe that I knew all about them from a television program. In fact, it was probably best not to mention that I knew about them at all, that this was just a strange and new experience for me.
So deciding, I looked up and was surprised to see the four men wearing three-piece business suits, and that Squishy had somehow acquired a thick heavy beard. I had had a dream about something similar to this, except Sheppard, McKay and Beckett hadn't been present. Nor had the little white gerbil that began racing in a wheel on the oak desk.
I blinked rapidly and gazed back at the expectant men, then slowly began talking. "My name is Mary," no use telling them M.A., because then they'd want to know what the initials stood for, and it would just make them even more suspicious, "and I'm just your average college student. I was sitting at home, when this…this purple thing appeared in my living room, and then I appeared here."
I gave a sigh, realizing I wasn't going to get away with my sparse little introduction, quickly went into more detail, starting with my boredom (though leaving out the whole not being able to write or making Atlantis icons), and the appearance and strangeness of the purple non-object thing.
"That makes no sense whatsoever," Rodney countered when I had finished, "A thing that's not a thing, but it is? Sounds like something out of a child's nightmare."
"I'm just telling you what I saw and experienced," I said, my voice getting that defensive quality it got when everything I said and did was questioned, "and if you know everything, why don't you tell me how I got here and why all this is happening?"
"Perhaps you have sent yourself, without realizing it," Squishy suggested, "Blocking from your mind."
"Or maybe you aren't telling us the whole story," John stated, and from his tone, I knew he wasn't making a suggestion. He knew I wasn't telling them the whole story.
I sighed again. "Fine, but you still aren't going to believe me. Where I come from, I don't know if it's another reality, dimension, whatever, we have this television program called Stargate: Atlantis," I began, and then continued on, telling them everything, from writing "Of Chocolate and Edible Boxers" (leaving out the fact that it was pairing McKay and Weir) to not being able to write anything, and then finally the dreams, storylines and conversations I'd had with various people.
"I still don't know what the gerbil's doing though," I assured them, "Because I've never thought about a gerbil before."
"So you are responsible," this time, Rodney's voice wasn't so much triumphant, as vindicated, "just as I've stated all along."
"Hold on a moment, Rodney," Carson interrupted, "we don' know that she's actually doin' this. According to these tests, she's a normal human being."
"Okay, why would some advanced race want to use some silly girl's imagination to screw with the way Atlantis is being run?" Rodney was shaking his head as he spoke, "Carson, that doesn't make any sense whatsoever."
The door to the office opened, and a person I'd never seen before walked in wearing a rain slicker and carrying an umbrella, looking totally confused.
"Sir, it's raining in the gateroom," the woman said, glancing at me with unguarded suspicion, "but the gateroom's not the gateroom any more."
"Ever had a dream about that?" Sheppard asked, and as I shook my head no, turned to the soldier (who was now wearing a nice blouse and ankle length business skirt), "Okay, Lester, I want you to stay in here and guard the door, and no matter what happens, don't leave your post until you're otherwise ordered to."
"Where are you going?"
"We, McKay, are going to see what ever else is happening in the city," Sheppard responded, "Beckett, Zelenka, you two stay here and see if you can get her to think of some other things. I want to know exactly how much control she actually has on this. If she actually has any at all."
"I told you…" Whatever McKay was going to say was cut off as the two of them disappeared through the door.
I was left with three pairs of eyes on me, one of which showed confusion. "So, I think of lots of things," I began in a nervous ramble, "but obviously not every one of my thoughts is being used for whatever's going on here so obviously I don't actually have anything really to do with all this. Maybe the purple non-object thing will come back, and everything will go back to normal."
"Uh huh, yeah," Squishy murmured. I hadn't actually told them about that, though I had mentioned the dream with Pikachu where I had first called him that. "What other sorts of shows do you watch?"
"Well, I don't actually have a favorite genre. I don't really like all the science fiction shows that are out there, some are too much horror. I can't stand horror. I do like musicals though, and you know, it's kinda funny because I had this sudden image of Gene Kelly from Singing in the Rain when…uh oh…"
As I spoke, the office-that-had-been-infirmary changed and became a street, but not just any street. A street from the set of a movie, not realistic looking at all, but still real enough for the purposes of filming. And Lester was once more dressed in a rain slicker, only it was the old fashioned kind, bright and yellow, with a matching yellow umbrella. Carson and Zelenka were dressed identically.
But that wasn't the worst part of it, oh no. That would have been fine, just another clothing change. However, in addition to the change in clothing, the three of them began singing.
Horribly I might add.
I winced, covering my ears and tried desperately to think of something else, but apparently the illusion wasn't going to change until the song had finished. At least the music and sound of the rain sort of drowned out their voices. So much so that I didn't realize they had finished until I looked up to see Radek doing a rather impressive impression of the dance Gene Kelly had done in that same movie.
Impressive until he slipped and fell, sliding into the lamp pole that abruptly turned into a cart with medical instruments on it. The infirmary had returned to normal, and so had Carson, Radek and Lester.
"Oops?" I offered when all three of them glared at me.