Synopsis:

Another BigCloset TopShelf story.

Joanie meets the Princes of Plumbing and the King, the Meridian Foundation endowment and chair are announced causing an assistant administrator to lose her cool and Joanie has one heck of a Sixties flashback in medical.

Andy Warhol said,"In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

Story:

Timeout 2-Pause/Record/Fast-forward: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out either Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html) or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

This is still sort of first my attempt a TG/sci-fi piece, thought I’m getting better, honest. Constructive criticism and advice is welcome. This is for fun and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Take it in that spirit. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents is for purposes of humor or parody, which saves my butt. I love the fair use doctrine. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2006. See my agents Bill & Ted of San Dimas CA.

P.S. I’d like to 86 these two, know of any better agents? As to Joanie’s reaction to Mr. King, she’s all shook up, thankyouverymuch.

Timeout 2

By John from Wauwatosa

Chapter 4-Physical Plant, the King, Meridian and Doctor who?

December 14, 2006 Whateley Academy, 11:05am EST

Physical Plant was confused why I was there, until they read Ms Carson’s letter.

“So you’re an expert historical researcher and can stop time for short periods. Could be useful, you tell us how,” said Stan and Morrie in turn. They were testing me, I like quizzes.

“On an older campus like Whateley, you must have a hodgepodge of systems running through, between and under buildings. Active and abandoned mechanical tunnels, steam lines, water, gas, electric, communications, sewer, ventilation shafts, you name it, much of it direct burial and in unknown condition.” They nodded. “Everything from fiber optics and superconductors to wood and lead water pipes, plus what little I do know about magic, who knows what previous and current students have buried for safekeeping? I can get original lost construction plans, material samples, photos take during construction or remodeling, even photos never originally taken. This is not to go beyond us here, but I can time travel. How do think I got the kewl old Harley of mine?”

I giggled a bit, but I got their attention. I had noticed my cycle was something of an attraction.

“That would be very valuable, could save us time and money,” said Stan.

“It could save lives; in an emergency, or when some task is particularly dangerous, I can be on standby ready to stop time. I can do this over an area of as much as 100 feet in all directions, for a number of minutes. Enough time to shut off a broken gas main or for me to move a victim away from a live power line.”

“You were the gal who froze a highway to save that young ladies life last Labor Day, Joanie.” Morrie said.

“Melissa Johnson, the daughter of Iowa Governor Bob Johnson, a sweet child and a nice family.” I smiled thinking of them.

“Gees Louise, I saw that on TV. Strangest thing I’ve ever witnessed and being from Whateley, that’s saying something, ma’am,” Morrie finished.

“You can use me then? Remember I do have other commitments on campus.”

“We’ll work something out, Joanie.”

“I look forward to it and thank you, Stan and Morrie, for calling me Joanie; I prefer it.”

I saw Stan’s eyes light up.

“Ghod, I know who you are. You’re that new singer who’s so hot now.” He got a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re classic Whateley material.”

“How’s that?” I replied.

“Whateley’s full of the craziest collection of oddballs, eccentrics, flakes, nuts, geniuses, geeks and freaks on Earth,“ he said tongue firmly in cheek, “ You’ll fit in perfect.”

Tina and I left the meeting a little later, all of us still laughing or giggling at random. I’ll have fun with these wackos.

* * * *

We got to the music department around 11:45, the department head was delayed with class, so we followed the secretary’s instructions to Kane Hall where we entered the King Auditorium and quietly closed the doors behind us. The room was hardly an auditorium, it was more a very small theater, if it held 75 it was a lot. Like many of the campus buildings, it was deceptive. Many times as a child and young man, I’d toured the sprawling Allis-Chalmers factory complex in West Allis where my dad worked. Not much is left, some remnants do repair work for Siemens and parts are now shopping and commercial space. There was a Sam’s Club in a part of the plant built for the Manhattan Project; a network TV studio is still in there.

In its dying gasps, they built a massive reinforced concrete and steel over-speed test facility for the steam turbines and motor/generators they built and repaired. They did the over-speed tests to insure everything was perfectly balanced; when hundreds of tons of steel are spinning at 3600 rpm, you don’t want to be anywhere near if something vibrates apart. The tests were at 4000 rpm, achieving that speed meant the tips of the larger turbine blades are going supersonic and could be damaged by heat. To ease the power requirements and solve the heat problem, they built a room with walls over ten feet thick and a heavy vacuum sealed steel and concrete door. The King Auditorium reminded me of it. An A-bomb wouldn’t phase this place; we are dealing with teenagers here.

“No no no, you’re not getting it. You’ve got the notes right, but the feeling’s all wrong.” The man sounded familiar but the afro hair threw me.

“Maybe I can help?” I offered.

“And you are?”

~Oh my, he’s an Elvis impersonator complete with rhinestone studded outfit, his voice is good though. ~

“I’m Joan Brown, I’m a new hire through Ms. Carson.” I handed him the letter. “One of my duties is as a part-time vocal coach and performer.” I held out my hand, he shook it warmly.

“Call me the King or Mr. King, baby, everyone does, ah uh.” I resisted laughing; he was very good at it. “And what are your qualifications?”

Several students were looking at me intensely, then their faces broke into knowing smiles.

“I know her qualifications, Mr. King,” said a young boy eagerly.

“Yes?” I smiled back.

~Gee he’s was cute and... Cute?! ~

“She’s numbers 1, 16, and 23 also numbers 1, 8 and 20.”

~Huh?~

“Ah huh?” Mr. King’s spoken thoughts echoed mine.

“I heard it on VH1 this morning. Joan,“ he fought back a laugh, “holds numbers 1, 16 and 23 on the Billboard music pop chart and numbers 1, 8 and 20 on the country music chart. Joan is Joanie; she’s the hottest singer alive or dead. Sorry, Mr. King.”

“Uh, no offence taken kid.” Mr. King’s face became electric as he looked at me.

“So I’m doing okay then, thanks for the FYI.”

I moved to the boy, bent down and shook his hand, giving him a nice view of my jiggling breasts. At least my top was buttoned this time. I gave him a kiss too because he was so nice.

~and he’s really hot for a young... DON’T go there, Joanie. This looks like job for two vibrators and a can of whipped cream at a minimum. ~

I knew I might eventually have desires for men but so soon and so young? I have got to see if the medical staff here has a solution, or I’ll be on the sex offenders list in no time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, Joanie. So you’re really Joanie, Joan. I am familiar with your recordings, but the outfit threw me. I guess you’re incognito today.” Mr. King gave a deep laugh.

“I’m not in leather if that’s what you mean. I’m just trying to make a good first impression; sorry to sneak up on you like that. Want me to change into them now?”

Mr. King, the boy and many of his classmates looked very happy, several were girls.

~Dear me, so many minxes, so little time. ~

You don’t want to know what I was thinking of doing with several of the boys, possibly simultaneously. I had a disturbing thought.

“Tina are you?” I whispered.

“No, Joanie, need a break?”

“Yes and soon.” I turned to Mr. King. “So what’s the problem, King?”

“It’s partially your fault, Joanie.”

“My fault, I just got here?” This was strange, so what else was new.

“It’s your songs, they’ve sparked renewed interest in older pop classics, you know, fifties sixties, seventies rock and country.”

~So I’m ancient now? ~

“Ah yes, I remember back in nineteen and ought six,” I said in a little old lady voice. Several kids giggled.

~Hey, at least my arousal has diminished. ~

“It’s kinda hard, Ms Joanie; the song is written for a girl and, I’m a boy.”

~Ah! ~

You’ll notice I did not make a crude comment based on that straight line; maybe my libido is beginning to behave, about time too.

“Tell yah what, I’ll sing a song written for a guy, is that fair?” I offered.

“Sure, Joanie.” He seemed relieved.

“Something pop/country, mid 1960’s okay?” I asked, the King nodded.

I walked to the student accompanists, one at a synthesizer. I whispered my request.

“You got it, girl,” she said.

She started a strong, simple beat on a snare, base drum combo in the synthesizer, then the electric guitar player came in. Next the woman at the synthesizer added in electric piano, and lastly I added my vocal. Less than three minutes later we were done.

“Was that any good? Did I sound convincing? I suppose Oh, Pretty Woman is a little odd for a girl to sing, but it’s a classic. It was number one in September 1964, when I started first grade. They used it as the title song in a Julia Roberts film.” They were silent. “Earth to class, earth to class, come in class?” they still said nothing. “Gotta go, thankyouverymuch,” I said in my bad Elvis.

The King laughed, and Tina and I walked out of the King Auditorium. Just before the heavy doors shut I could hear screams and laughter like I heard at Mel’s birthday party, and cutting through it all was Mr. King saying, “Joanie has left the building!”

~That reminds me, I promised to call Mel tonight. ~

“You know, Tina; I think I’ve still got it. Let me know if my head starts swelling.”

“Oh you!” she said giving me a hug, but I could see she wanted to do much more. Ce la vie.

“Meet you for lunch at 12:30, I’ve got to change for the announcement and get some relief.” I giggled and rushed to Poe.

* * * *

It was noon; time would be tight. I cleaned myself up and changed into a woman’s business suit. I packed the full Joanie workout outfit in my gym bag, medical needed to test me in costume. I did wear my Steve Zink number elevens under my dress pants for fun. My urges had to wait, there wasn’t time.

After a quick lunch, Tina and I hurried to the front of the Administration building where a small podium and PA system was setup for the announcement. It was a low key affair; the dignitaries included Ms. Carson, the head of the history department and heads of most of the other departments. Some representatives from the Whateley board including the community representative were present along with most of the staff from Administration, Ms. Hartford, I mean Amelia, prominent among them. Mr. King made it as well, thankfully not in costume. A small press contingent was present, mostly specialty publications that covered prep schools and a few local reporters, no camera persons, thank Ghod. Tina and I took a position off to the side where we had a good view of the event and of Ms. Har ... Amelia. A few students looked on as Ms Carson began.

“This press conference is called to announce Whateley Academy is the recipient of a sizable endowment from the Meridian Foundation, a philanthropic trust. Ms. Watkins their representative will explain.”

An attractive, very well endowed, blond woman of about 30 stepped forward, she bore an uncanny resemblance to the sexy female impersonator Control agent seen in several Get Smart episodes. She made me look flat-chested by comparison, woo boy! Ms. Watkins was from one of the law firms that supervised Meridian for my “Aunts.” I’d met her few times, last when we negotiated the agreement with Ms. Carson, but she wouldn’t recognize me dressed like this.

“I’m Charlie Watkins.”

I fought to hold in a giggle.

~Ghod this is sooo funny. She even sounds like the actress. ~

“I’m here to disclose the nature of Meridian’s gift to Whateley. After much research and deliberation” — I smiled and snickered slightly — “and a unanimous vote by the entire Meridian board” — I had to cover my mouth to hold it in, I am the entire board. Amelia looked at me like I was a nut case — “Whateley Academy was awarded an endowment worth in excess of 250 million dollars.” That got every ones attention; Whateley had just received one of the largest charitable gifts in US history. “Whateley has full use of any earnings the assets generate but may not touch the principle for ten years.” There were quiet murmurs in the crowd. “As a condition of the endowment Whateley must establish a chair in the history department dedicated to researching, teaching and preserving the life histories, documents and artifacts related to mutants and their interaction with society. The Meridian Chair is fully funded by the endowment and additional funds are provided the history department to make use of this resource.” The crowd nodded in understanding. “Lastly for a period of one year, Meridian reserves the right to name the recipient of the chair. Our appointee may be removed upon a 2/3 vote of the entire Whateley department heads, Ms. Carson holding absolute veto. Thank you.”

Ms. Carson returned to the podium; I managed to collect my wits, to a degree.

“It is my privilege to introduce the first holder of the Meridian Chair. I have met with this individual and reviewed her credentials.”

The crowd started scanning all the women near the podium, which one was it? I was ready to wet my pants if this lasted much longer.

“Do not let her apparent youth deceive you, as she is highly suitable for this position,” Ms. Carson continued.

The crowd was antsy; I looked towards Amelia who had a strained expression on her face that flashed to surprise and anger when I smiled back and winked. Tina tried hard not to laugh.

“Some of you may recognize the woman in question as I understand she has had some small success in the field of music.” Ms Carson smiled broadly at me; I was impressed, how did she get through that completely straight-faced? “I present the first holder of the Meridian Chair, Ms. Joan Brown.”

I waved at the crowd and Amelia as I walked to the podium; if looks could kill, she just committed mass murder. I’ll give her this much, she didn’t storm off, too much dignity, huh?

“I’m sure you have questions, but let’s keep them brief, and before anyone asks, yes, I am that Joanie. Remember the ground rules, no photos and no mention of who I am other than approved by Ms. Carson. If we ever do reveal I’m here, you folks will hear it first, fair enough? Is it true I’m number one on the Billboard pop and country charts, a fellow student told me?”

Some in the crowd laughed. A younger woman reporter spoke up.

“That’s not strictly true, Joanie. You’re number one on three charts, you forgot adult contemporary. Can I have your autograph for my niece, she’s a fan?”

“Uh sure, after the press conference, okay; remember ixna on the oaniej.”

That got a few snickers. Ms. Carson called it off after twenty minutes so Whateley could get back to normal, if there is such a thing. How Amelia could stand holding her lips pursed that tight amazed me; that had to hurt after a while. I’ve seen pictures of “plebes” at West Point who looked more relaxed at attention. She walked into Administration in her usual purposeful, dignified manner, though I swear I heard a stream of profanity from the women’s room soon after.

~The women’s room stalls out of toilet paper? ~

I signed a few autographs and talked off the record with a few guests; thank goodness the weather had remained unseasonably warm. And they say global warming is a bad thing. That over, I left with Tina for Siegel Hall and my preliminary powers exam.

* * * *

“Joanie, it’s not a good idea to cross Ms. Hartford, she tends to get even.”

“Just having fun, Tina, and if she’s as bright as she must be to be the Administrative Assistant here, she’ll soon realize that. It’s not like she can have me expelled, I’m staff, not just an incoming student. Somewhere under that hard-baked preppy exterior must be some spark of humanity, otherwise Ms. Carson wouldn’t keep her here. Maybe I can bring it out; meantime I’m having fun. I won’t push it too far, okay?” We were met by Dr. Pollard, who we’d met earlier and a middle-aged man who smiled happily when he saw Tina.

“What’s my favorite tenant doing here, Tina?” he had a charming, friendly voice. I liked him immediately.

“Dr. Bellows, this is Joan Brown, and I’m escorting her around. She’s here for a preliminary powers exam.”

Dr. Pollard spoke next. “Joanie here is the girl Doctors Sara and Otto are so interested in; you’ve seen their reports, Dr Bellows?” He nodded. “For Dr. Otto of ARC to consider you a mystery is most unusual. I had a conference call with both of them shortly after you left us this morning, and I’m eager to start. This is Doctor Alfred Bellows; he’s an MD and psychologist. He’s here at Dr. Sara’s and Dr. Otto’s suggestion, and he’s also Tina’s landlord.”

“Normally I’m not involved at this stage of the power exams but your Dr. Sara and Dr. Otto recommended an interdisciplinary approach as you’ve proven hard to classify.”

He was very charming but something bothered me.

~Oh yah, I remember. ~

“Doctor Alfred Bellows?” I asked, he knew what was coming.

I crossed my arms on my chest, blinked and head snapped my ponytail. He chuckled.

“Very few ever get the head snap right, very good, Joanie. Yes, that’s my name; although I’ve never been with the Air force or NASA, I am a fan of the old show.”

“I remember when it was on originally. Barbara Eden was one hot babe by 60’s TV standards, pity about the navel,” I said and smiled.

“That’s another reason for the tag team approach; looking at you or your medical results, no one would guess you’re nearly 49 or a former man. By your appearance and tests, you’re physically late teens at most.”

“Do we have to do all those tests over again, I thought Dr. Sara and Dr. Alex were very thorough. I remember all the blood, urine and skin samples they took. Don’t ask about the gynecological and various endoscope exams, ewh! Not exactly the old turn your head and cough.”

I was having some fun at their expense, the tests weren’t that bad, and they were necessary.

“No dear, we’ll just do a few to make sure you haven’t changed since they were last done,” Dr. Pollard relpied.

Dr. Bellows spoke. “I’m here because I have a gift. I can experience what a person felt at critical events in their life by simply touching them. It’s a sort of clairvoyance. I should be able to relive what you felt at the time of your mutation. That may help us refine our research plans for you. May I touch your hand? You may wish to sit down, this can be disconcerting, but it’s harmless, I assure you.”

~Would I argue with those deep, sincere, caring eyes? Oooh, they’re sooo sexy... not again? ~

“Something wrong Joanie,” Dr. Bellows asked.

“Ah, no, it’s just I have this problem, and it’s worse at this point in my cycle.”

“Your file indicates you have, control problems, shall we say,” said Dr. Pollard. I got angry; my emotions were a little hair-trigger today.

“Are you saying I’m a slut?” I snapped.

Dr. Pollard looked shocked, Dr. Bellows looked concerned.

“No offence meant, Joanie. I simply noted you informed Dr. Sara you had difficulties with your new libido. We’ll give you any help we can, so you’re comfortable with it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Dr. Pollard answered.

“Sorry, I’m touchy on that subject at times. I’m ready whenever you’re ready, Dr. Bellows.”

He clasped my hands, and I experienced all those odd aches, pains, headaches, smells, sights, sounds and other sensations from that first day of my mutation. I remembered bumping into my youthful mom, I screamed then nothing.

My next sensations were of waking in a hospital bed wearing one of those fashionable gowns. I was tired but feeling okay. I lifted by head and saw Tina sleeping in a stuffed chair, deja vu all over again.

“Tina, where are we? How long was I out?”

“Thank Ghod you’re okay, Joanie. You’re still in Siegel Hall; its 7pm, that’s nearly five hours. You had us worried; what scared the doctors was how long you were down.”

“What do you mean by down?”

“Your heart, breathing and well, everything stopped for five minutes. They tried to defibulate you, but every time they got close the machine failed. They couldn’t even get a reading from you or perform CPR as they couldn’t touch you. There was a sort of force field around you, but they couldn’t detect any energy signature. After five minutes you were breathing normal, and they could move you.”

“Do do do do, do do do do, sounds very Twilight Zone to me, Tina.”

Dr. Pollard came in, smiling at my joke.

“Glad you’re back with us, Joanie. You’ll be happy to know Dr. Bellows has recovered too.”

“Dr. Bellows was affected.”

“He was like you but for only thirty seconds, then he came to. He’s writing up his experience as we speak. You’re one interesting girl, Joanie.”

“That sums up the last five months of my life, doctor. So what do we do next?” I was not in the best of moods.

“Oh, yes, the mutation, they’re often distressing for a time. We wait for Dr. Bellows to submit his report, and then we decide on a course of investigation. While you were out, Tina advised us of what happened last night. It’s covered by doctor/patient privilege so don’t worry. She thought it might help us understand why this happened today,” Pollard said.

“She told you everything? This is embarrassing doctor; about Chris too?”

“Yes, she mentioned what her sister told her; they are identical twins after all. I suspect your previously dormant empathic powers are behind yesterday’s incidents and your reaction to Dr. Bellows. The feedback may have caused you time-stop yourself somehow, but since you weren’t actively sustaining it, the field wore off as the temporal energy bled away.”

“Will that happen every time Dr. Bellows and I touch?” This worried me.

“No, he knows not do that again,” the doctor assured me.

“You said I may be empathic, my friends at MSG, Tina and Chris thought so.”

“What Tina told us and the reaction you had to Dr. Bellows suggests you’re an empath with limited telepathic abilities, as you did communicate with the twins. That this has happened few times and only in the presence of other empaths/telepaths suggests your talent is powerful but passive. Someone else must trigger it before you can use it. Eventually you may learn how to trigger it at will, but for now it’s dormant unless another affects you. That’s enough for now, Joanie. We’ll schedule more tests after we’ve reviewed Dr. Bellows notes and conference called with Doctors Sara and Otto again. Until later, Joanie, and by the way, I love those boots.” He was grinning like a little boy.

“Great, my doctor’s a pervert.” I laughed, dressed and left with Tina for Poe.

* * * *

Dear diary/journal/whatever, I’m beginning to think the people who named the buildings a Whateley had a warped sense of humor combined with precognition. Most of the buildings are either named for icons of 19th century American literature or influential 20th century comic book artists. How else can you explain the King auditorium, an annex of Kane Hall, where Mr. King teaches music? What were the odds on that? And his hair, didn’t afros go out with the 70’s? I once thought some of my leather Joanie outfits bordered on tacky but Mr. King’s whole hog Elvis impersonator garb with all the rhinestones and the jewelry, euh! He does have good taste in music, I have to admit. Then those guys from Physical Plant, I wanted to press the reset button, they were so video game. I wasn’t sure if they reminded me more of the Mario Brothers, Click and Clack or Abbot and Costello. You don’t want to know the name off the Meridian representative and what she looked like.

Day two at Whateley has been the most fun I’d had in weeks. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of teasing Ms. Hartford. Maybe she’s irredeemable, Ms. Carson doesn’t seem to think that, but then she is a very forgiving person. From the rumors I’ve heard, maybe it’s a case of “the enemy of my enemy is my ally” or even “I keep my friends close, my enemies closer.” I’m not sure; I’ll keep my options open. Perhaps someday Ms. Hartford will come around and be civil because she wants to be and not just because it’s expected; I guess I’m a softy at heart. I’m not holding my breath, but I will continue to be friendly and call her Amelia. It’s less formal, it’s a lovely name, and it drives her crazy. Ain’t I a stinker, to quote the great and powerful Bugs Bunny. As to day two so far, wow!

* * * *
To be continued

Revised 09/09/2006
Special thanks to my evil blonde sister for proofing assistance

Notes:

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