Who Can Perform CPR on my Muse?
a little bit of insanity by Celestia

DISCLAIMER: Paramount & the Sci-Fi Channel own the characters you recognize, although these versions are figments of my imagination....Petra and Celestia belong to MOI!!!

Caffey, I do believe this to be mostly your fault....you inspired me with your stories about your lack of Muse........

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The room was dim, dismal. As if shrouded in the black of mourning.

Which, it was.

A girl, long hair covering her face, clad in black jeans and a black T-shirt, sat on the edge of her bed with her head hung low. In front of her, on the floor, amidst piles of clothes, papers, and books, sprawled a fuzzy ball of fluff, which didn't seem to be breathing.

A tall, handsome man with a tattoo on his forehead appeared and set his hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong, Celestia?"

She looked up with misty eyes. "She's dead, Chakotay. Can't you see her?! MY MUSE IS DEAD!!!"

He got down on his hands and knees beside the ball of fluff, now identified as Celestia's dead muse. "Want me to perform CPR?"

Celestia didn't seem to hear him. She slowly got off of her bed and sat on his back, leaning her chin on his head. She breathed in deeply. He may have been a figment of her imagination, but his hair always smelt soooooooo good.....

"Would you please STOP THAT!"

"Stop what?"

"Trying to get high off of my hair."

She laughed. "I can't help it! I've got to know what shampoo you use. I'll tell all the boys at school to use it. You can smell it from a mile away, and it's just-" she closed her eyes and breathed deeply again as her face became the picture of contentment. "Wow."

Chakotay sighed and shook his head. "You figure out what shampoo I use. After all, you're the one who makes up the rooms in your head, as well as the people. I just use whatever's sitting in the sonic shower. Now, do you want me to do CPR on the thing or not?"

Celestia suddenly seemed to panic. She jumped off of Chakotay's back and scooped up her muse, hugging the fuzzball close to herself. "NO!!! You do that wrong....you'll kill Petra!!!"

"I thought you said she was dead already."

"You'll kill her worse!"

"Did you know that made no sense?"

Celestia looked puzzled. "What fun is there in making sense?"

Chakotay sighed again. "By the way, when did you call her Petra? Last I heard, she was nameless."

"She's been Petra for about a month."

"So nice of you to tell me. You used to tell me everything."

She shook her head, "Not everything. About 50%. And the other 50% is divided evenly amongst everyone else in my head." 

 Suddenly,  Quinn Mallory (the other member of the "Sexy Guys in Celestia's Head" Club) appeared. "Glad you think so highly of me," he commented sarcastically.

Celestia shrugged. "Don't think too much of it. Chakotay's just easier to talk to than you sometimes. Besides, I still see him on Voyager every week. But YOU, Mr. Mallory, left Sliders last year."

"Whatever. Hey, is that Petra? Is she ok?"

"HE knows she's Petra?!"

"Yeppers. Quinn.....she's dead. Do you know how to do CPR the right way? He-" she pointed her thumb at Chakotay-"Has no idea."

"Ummmm.....well, there was that one ep where I did CPR on--"

"NOT THE TV WAY!!! THAT'S THE WRONG WAY!!!' Celestia carefully lay Petra on her waterbed and put her head in her hands. "Why oh why doesn't anyone know REAL CPR?"

"Because we're figments of your imagination, and YOU don't know CPR?" Chakotay asked.

"That shouldn't have to make any difference." Celestia grumbled.

Just then, Doc (who definitely WAS NOT a member of the same club as Chakotay and Quinn) appeared beside them. "I see you forgot to invite me to your merry little party."


"It's not merry." Celestia huffed. "My muse is dead, and nobody knows real CPR to help her."

"Oh dear, poor Petra!"

Chakotay growled.

"You're a doctor, Doc! Help her!"

"My instruments aren't here.....and holograms can't perform CPR."

Quinn looked at him strangely. "Why the hell not?"

"It's just some unwritten rule, that's all. We're supposed to have instruments to help us! I was never programmed to perform CPR on a muse!"

Then, Kathryn Janeway appeared, phaser rifle in hand. "Did someone mention needing a CPR?"

It was Celestia's turn to sigh. "No, Kathryn....we need someone to PERFORM CPR....MY MUSE IS DEAD!!!"

"Petra? Oh, poor thing.....just don't ask Chakotay to do it. The man has no idea how to perform CPR."

"I know that, Captain."

"Why don't you just take her to Sickbay?"

Celestia looked at Kathryn, puzzled. "I have a Sickbay in my head?"

Doc jumped into the conversation. "Of course you do. Where do you think we treat all those bad ideas and turn them into healthy ones before they get to you?"

"I though Petra did all that."

Quinn walked up to her. "Sometimes, we just help her out."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Chakotay got up off the floor. "Emergency transport to the Sickbay in Celestia's head."

They all disappeared in a flurry of colour, only to immediately reappear in a rather brightly lit Sickbay, with Petra on the biobed. 

Doc immediately jumped into action, asking for tools at an alarming rate, saying things no one understood.

"What do you need, Doc?"

He sighed. (It seemed everyone was sighing that day!) "The blue thingy, Celestia, the blue thingy. And then the green thing, and the round one beside it."

Everyone but the Doc and the silent muse tried to hold back chuckles. "Now THAT I understand!" She handed him the appropriate tools.

Half an hour later, they were still there, standing tensely. Petra hadn't even flinched under Doc's care, which was probably a bad thing, seeing as she wasn't breathing, either.

Half an hour after that, Celestia had resorted to pacing, Quinn was building a mini sliding machine (to get Petra to an alternate universe, maybe she'd survive there), and Kathryn and Chakotay were making out on the biobed next to Petra's. (Hey, this is CELESTIA'S head, after all. :) Suddenly, Doc turned to them.

"Celestia....there's nothing more I can do."

"THERE HAS TO BE!!!! I can't live without writing...."

"It seems you have, otherwise she would not have died."

"Are you sure you tried EVERYTHING? There has to be some other way....."

Doc shrugged. "Unless there's something else you want to try...."

A light-bulb appeared over Celestia's head. "Just one thing, Doc...." She walked over to Petra, and leaned into her ear (if a ball of fuzz has ears), "Petra, my muse, I'm so sorry if I hurt you, I never meant to...do you want Neelix to kiss it better?" She smiled wickedly. If there was one thing her muse hated, it was any gushy stuff that had to do with Neelix. And she did have a nose, being THAT close to the guy might just re-kill her....

The muse was already shaking her head (if balls of fuzz have heads) vigorously, vividly refusing the prospect. She gave a little, high-pitched sneeze. "Aaaaaachhhoooo!"

The room erupted into cheers. The day was saved once again! 

Celestia hugged her muse tightly. "I won't abandon you ever again," she whispered. 
 
Everyone else quickly left the room, sensing Celestia and Petra needed some time alone. Maybe they'd see themselves in another fanfic yet...

**END**