So. Bobbie was still at work. It was August 26 already - just a few minutes after midnight. Back home in the States, it would be just past noon of August 25. Great. Just enough time.

Bobbie had hurried to wrap her once-a-month Sunday morning videoconference with the company's higher-ups scheduled for the last Sunday of the month (so no employees would be around), but since Bobbie was on the other side of the world, that meant it was Monday evening for her, and since they usually extended these meetings to just before noon, for them that is, then...

Normally, she wouldn't have minded, and her wife of over six years was understanding and knew these once-a-month meetings get extended all the time, but this was a special Monday for Bobbie - it was her tenth-year anniversary as a member in her favorite site, BigCloset Topshelf, and she wanted to post something on the site to commemorate this "momentous" occasion (she giggled at her use of the word), but she hadn't written it yet. That was why she was antsy, and was waiting impatiently for the meeting to end, so she could start writing it.

 
And now that their meeting has already ended, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She went to the bank of vending machines in the break room (here, they call them "vendo machines") and got a hot chocolate.

it wasn't particularly good chocolate, nor even proper chocolate - it's probably Milo or something like that (there were a lot of Aussie expats on staff, so Tintin made sure there was Milo in the vending machines) - but it was better than nothing.

Bobbie went to her office, put down her little, steaming cup full of vending machine malt chocolate, and brought out her own personal Mac. Making sure she was connected to her personal internet connection via an emulated virtual connection, she logged on to the site (she had taken to calling the site "BCTS" early on, and at least people seemed to know what she meant when she said BCTS), and checked if she had any new comments on any of her blogs or stories. There were usually hardly any - very few ever commented on her stuff. Her "regulars" always did, but hardly anyone else - she supposed people didn't like to comment on her stuff given how... sensitive she was, especially to those "excitable" people who liked to post "gotcha" comments. And tonight was no different - no new comments.

Oh, wait! There was one - one of her friends who was also one of her regulars, put up a new comment to her latest posted chapter, and the friendly words made her smile.

She typed up a quick reply, attached her usual signature, and posted it.

Now, back to work!

But she hit a brick wall... Nothing was coming to her. She waited a little more, but nothing came to mind! Darnit! And it was just a little under two hours before 2:33am!!

To sort of stall, she called up Moe at home (that's short for 'Momoko'), and after a few pleasant hi-and-hellos, Bobbie told Moe that she'll probably be coming home in a couple of hours or so, and also told her she can be reached on her direct line in her office just in case (she hardly needed to tell Moe that, but it was her subtle way of showing that she was just at her office and not anywhere else. Her dad told her that it was best not to take marriage for granted, and not give one's spouse a reason to worry, and this was one of Bobbie's subtle ways of letting Moe know where she was).

Moe wasn't mad for her staying late - that's because the 26th was National Heroes Day there, so it was a holiday - and that meant Bobbie won't be working, and would be home all day.

Bobbie hung up the phone and went back to her computer, but when she did, there was still nothing coming to her! Arrrgh! This was a great time for her muse to be taking a break, she thought.

So she got the latest newspaper and switched on the TV in her office, which was connected to the company's cable-TV feed. HBO was currently running First Man and though it was roughly already in the middle, she didn't mind. She just wanted the TV and the paper as a kind of distraction - one of her little tricks to help her jump-start her writing.

And, in minutes, she fell asleep.

Her mind drifted, and started to free associate.

- - - - -

"Pssst!" Drew hissed. "Pssst! Danny! Can you check if she's really asleep?"

Danny popped out the top of Bobbie's head in a slightly translucent form, almost like a ghost.

"Of course, she's asleep!" Danny said crossly. "Do you think we can come out if she was awake?"

"Ah, good," Drew replied, and popped out of Bobbie's head as well. "It feels good to be out in the real world," Drew said.

"I don't know about that," Zoe said, also popping out and looking like a ghost. "I like being in her head. I mean, what's the difference, right? In the real world, no one can see or hear us, and we can't touch anything or go anywhere. At least inside Bobbie's head, we're real."

"Dammit!" Danny said, "stop being so noisy! Do you want to wake her up?"

"Oops! Sorry!" Zoe said, this time in a whisper, and got close to Bobbie's face. She tried putting her hand on her cheek, but she couldn't touch her - something that has always frustrated her. "Poor dear needs her sleep - she hasn't gotten much ever since the start of her project."

"Okay, Danny," Drew said, "now tell us why you got us all out of Bobbie's head. This had better be important!"

"It is, it is! But let's wait for the others. especially the new ones."

"Wait!" Zoe exclaimed "Lemme get them." And then she dived back into Bobbie's head.

"Okay," she called faintly from inside Bobbie. "I got most of 'em. Lemme bring them out."

In a bit, she came out dragging some people by the arm.

There was TJ, still fresh from his visit to Arcadia, Effie Xander, newly-declared vice president of the country, Johnny, still gory from that shootout in Azimuth Inc.'s company offices, Dr. Quinn Valentine and her best friend, "Binky" Kristensen, Debbie Delaney looking like Marilyn Monroe, with yet another camera hanging from around her neck, and there were the three gorgeous detectives, Jill, Sabrina and Kelly.

"This is it?" Danny asked Zoe.

"Quit being impatient, kid," Zoe said. Pretty soon, other people came out as well: there was Mia, Tasha and Sahsha, all wearing their spacesuits for some reason, RC looking big, sexy and tall in her Autobot form (Bee didn't come along, though), there was Agent Devon McMasters looking like an FBI agent in her dark blazer, white blouse, slacks and flats, and Jenna in her Evangelion plugsuit cosplay costume.

The last to come out were Kim in a witch costume of all things (although she preferred to be called Bia nowadays), and Markie in one of his (or her) trademark androgynous outfits.

The last to come out was Sheriff Jack Carter.

"Is that the last, Sheriff?" Danny asked.

The tall blonde wearing a sheriff's khaki uniform nodded. "Afraid so, Danny," Sheriff Jack (or was it Jackie) Carter said. "The rest didn't come because they weren't the main protagonists in their stories so they said they'll just wait for us to tell them what we decide."

"How about the others? There must be thousands still in there. Maybe more."

"They're all pouting et cetera. They said they won't come out 'coz Bobbie hasn't written about them yet. They're a little teed off about that."

Danny sighed. "Can't be helped, I guess. Okay, guys, the reason I brought you all here is because it's Bobbie's tenth year in BCTS in a couple of hours. And she's having some trouble thinking up a story that she can put up in the site to mark the occasion. I was hoping that you could all help in thinking up a story for her to post."

Everyone started to talk, excited to share their ideas for stories - each one featuring themselves, of course. That was, until another ghostly entity came out - this one, a tall gorgeous blonde carrying a book and wearing a super-sexy cocktail-type dress that faintly looked Grecian in origin.

"What in Zeus' name are you all doing out here!" she roared, but in a very sexy way. "Den boró na se afíso móno!" she muttered in Greek. "Esto kai gia lígo!"

"But, Ms Callie..." Danny said.

"Silence!" Calliope, the Greek muse of epic poetry said with finality, and everyone quieted down.

"You all have no business bothering Bobbie," she said sternly. "I am her muse. It is my job to provide her with inspiration so that she can write her stories, not yours!"

"But you weren't around and she needs..."

"Silence!" she repeated, and Danny stopped speaking. As the first of Bobbbie's creations, Danny felt he had the responsibility (and the right) to lead them, but even he wouldn't go against Calliope.

"Now all of you, go back to your rooms! I'll handle this." And everyone started to fade back into Bobbie's head.

"Danny? A moment, if you please?"

When everyone had disappeared, leaving only Mistress Calliope and Danny, Calliope cleared her throat.

"Danny, Danny, Danny..." she said. "Whatever am I going to do about you..."

"Ma'am, you weren't here to help Bobbie out. And it's just a few more hours before 2:33PM - the anniversary of..."

Callie waved his protests away. "I know that, for Zeus' sake! When have I ever failed Bobbie?"

Danny shrugged. "That's true," he said, "but there's always a first time, you know..."

Callie gave him the evil eye. "That is not funny at all, Danny."

"Sorry, ma'am," Danny said contritely.

"Now go back," she said. "Bobbie and I got this."

Danny shrugged again. "If you say so, ma'am." And he faded away, just like the others.

After watching him go, she sighed and faced the sleeping Bobbie.

"Okay, then," she said. "What shall we write about this time, my dear?" she asked the sleeping face.

Instead of answering, Bobbie started to snore. "Zzz... chocolate..." she mumbled.

Callie giggled.

(p.s. click this link to check out my blog about my 10th anniversary in the BigCloset: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog-entry/80668/family-girl-... )

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read all of my blogs, click here to read my stories in BCTS, and click here to see my profile & know more about me.