Okay, I've finally had time to type up some of the multitude of stories that I had to hand write a while ago because of computer trouble.  So, here's the first, a short little thing that probably requires a bit of explanation.  During the episode where Gary tells Erica about the Paper (sorry, the name's gone), I believe that this should have been a pivotal sequence.  <G>  A word of warning:  this is a typical example of my twisted, freakish sense of humour; it may be mildly offensive to anyone who liked Erica.  Just keep in mind: it's fanfic, and therefore meant in fun.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tension
by Jayne Leitch
Copyright 1999

   The stress.  It's too much.

     I get tomorrow's news today, and I have to fix the stories I read.  I have to, or else people will get hurt, people will die. . .

     I have a girlfriend who doesn't know a thing about what I do.  Erica--she's completely in the dark.  I haven't told her.

     I collapsed in a doctor's office today.  I had horrible stomach pains, and then down I went.  You know what the doctor said?  Stress.  I'm under tremendous stress, what is it I do for a living?  Maybe I should take some time off from my job, relax, spend some time with my friends.

     If I don't spend some time with Erica she'll give up on me completely.  And then what'll our *working* relationship be like?

     It's too much.  Marissa says I should just tell Erica about the Paper, get everything out in the open.  But how do I know that would help?  I mean Henry--ooh, Henry--he knows about the Paper, and that's practically been a disaster.  What if Erica's worse?  What if she doesn't believe me when I tell her?  What if she thinks it's just another excuse for missing dinner?

     What if she thinks I'm crazy?

     Actually, I'm starting to feel a little crazy.

     No.  No, I have a responsibility to the Paper, and to all the people I read about.  Erica's just my girlfriend, but if I neglect the Paper, people will die.

     Oh, but the stress. . .

     It's like I'm two people, all the time.  Gary who runs around Chicago changing tomorrow's news, and Gary who runs McGinty's and is a lousy boyfriend.

                    (Sorry Erica, the El was delayed. . .)

                    (Am I late again?  Oh, I got caught in traffic. . .)

                    (Oh, well, see, there was this poodle caught in a sewer drain. . .)

                    (My second cousin on my grandmother's side is really very sick. . .)

                    (Were we supposed to have dinner?)

     I can't take it anymore.  My stomach knots up every time I see her, I'm drinking a bottle of Pepto-Bismol every hour.

     I have to make a decision.  The Paper or Erica.

     Lives or love.

     Variety or blonde.

     Adventure or bartending.

     Gary or--

     "Gary?"

     That's her.  She's opening the door.  Make a decision.

     "Gary, you in here?"

     There's really only one choice, isn't there.

     There's a knife right beside your hand. . .

     "I'm sorry, Gary's not here right now."

     What a headline there'll be tomorrow. . .

* * * * * * * * * *

     "Meow!"  *Thump*

     "Good morning, Chicago!  Our top story. . ."

     Gary reached over and hit the button on the radio, then sat up and swung his legs out of bed.

     He felt better this morning than he had in weeks.  His stomach didn't have the heavy, brickish feel it had recently, his head wasn't tortured by the guilty conscience that normally followed an excuse for missing a date.  He was actually looking forward to reading the Paper.

     Gary shrugged and stood up.  "Must've had a good dream."
~~~~~~~~~~~
End.

Email the author:  Jayne Leitch
 
 

Back Home to McGinty's

Stories by Title

Stories by Author