******

Mary M. sat at her keyboard, Prissy, checking the vast array of mail that filled the screen. She had seen the warning posted on the Giles and Joyce list, about not going near her computer, but thought it was all just part of the story. Then she quickly realized that she was becoming part of the story!

A strange glow came from the screen, illuminating the Library where she worked. It was close to closing time, so there were few people around to witness the event, and those that did...ran the other way. She tried to get up, but the pull was too strong, “W-what the hell?! What’s going on?!” she stuttered, still struggling against the overwhelming tugging of the light.

The pulling stopped, leaving Mary to give a small sigh of relief. But her respite was short lived when she felt the tingle return. This time, the pull was stronger, as she felt herself becoming part of the computer, “Hey! Cut it out! Wait an minute! Stoooooo.”

blink

******

Donna had been at the computer for only a few minutes, when she noticed something strange. It was a quiet day...too hot outside to do much of anything, except go swimming and stay in air conditioned homes. While she was typing, a message popped up on her screen.

Hey....didn’t you read the warning?

“Huh?” she said, looking around.

Who is this? she typed.

Who do you think?

“Okay,” she said, standing up, “if this is some kind of joke, you guys can cut it out!”

But there was no one in sight.

WHO ARE YOU! she typed again.

There was a long pause....then the screen began to glow green. Donna went to stand up, but found herself frozen to the chair. This was NO joke! She continued to stare at the monitor, waiting for a response to her question, and trying not to panic. She couldn’t move away...but she got the impression that she was indeed moving. Donna felt her body loosing cohesion. Even her vision began to change, as computer chips danced around her eyes.

WHAT IS GOING ON she wrote with trembling hands.

You’re coming home

blink

******

Mary Ann, stared at her computer for what seemed like hours...actually, it was hours. She banged her head on the keyboard, in frustration. Giles was still in that damned pink robe, and wasn’t talking to her. Her frustration was mounting with each passing moment.

“Think!” she said, hitting her head again and again, “Think!! Look, I’m trying to write a good story...I really am. Just help me out here, will ya! Give me a sign!”

As if to answer her pleas, the keyboard shuddered and a green glow emanated from the computer screen. She tried to call out for her husband, but before she could utter a cry for help, she disappeared.

blink

******

Kimberly yawned, and stretched. She had been at the computer for hours, dutifully typing away, when she heard a ruckus in the other room. Okay...now what? She got up and sought out the origin of the noise and what the problem was...pets and boys in a Celebrity Death Match....inside the house, no less!

“Hey!” she shouted, effectively freezing canine, feline and human children in the room, “Do you mind taking the WWF outside?! This is not an arena!”

As she watched the parade of sullen faces march by, she shook her head and smiled. Even her dog and cats had this look of utter rejection on their faces. She wasn’t sure if she had either finally learned animaleese...or that they have taken the first step to becoming human...but either way, it was never boring at her home.

Now with peace reigning once more, she headed back to the computer, and her story. Kimberly sat down again and began to type...but didn’t get far, when a strange glow lit up the room, bathing her in green light.

“Oh, great,” she muttered, as the light drew her in, “Now that I need help...the kids actually listened to me, and are nowhere to be found. Note to self,” she added, trying to focus on the fading images of her dining room, “never throw kids out right before I get a Close Encounter with the strange kind...”

blink

******

Tamara came home from work late...as usual. She was cranky, and tired, and really needed to write, but found she had little energy to do even the simplest task of checking her e-mail. As she waded through the vast amount of messages, Casey, her Jack Russell Terror...er...Terrier kept jumping up and down, nipping at her ankles.

“Hey, demon dog....cut it out!” she said, trying to ignore the veloceraptor’s teeth, “I said hi...I took you out...and I even fed you. What more to you want?”

With that, she jumped up unto her lap and began to growl at the computer screen. Well, now she had seen it all. It’s one thing going after the vacuum or the broom as though they were her mortal enemies...but this?!

“Casey, what is your problem?” Tamara said, annoyed, as her little dog began to paw at the monitor, “Come on,” she said, plopping her down onto the floor, “I’m too tired for this. Let me just check my mail, and we’ll go to bed...okay?”

But she never got to finish. Two seconds later, Tamara disappeared from existence.

blink

******

Tamara opened her eyes and looked around. Where was she? She wasn’t in her home, that much was very clear by the smell of gin and the sounds of jazz. But, where was here? And why was a Tuba staring at her...

“Well, it’s about time you got here,” The Tuba spoke, “Where have you been all weekend?”

Tamara blinked twice, not sure if she should answer this strange instrument. Then it dawned on her exactly “who” was taking... “Tuba?” she asked in surprise, “is that you?”

If the Tuba has arms, she would have crossed them at this point, “Well, who do you think it is? Flute?”

“B-but y-you’re not real....you’re....virtual.”

“Yep,” a smile came over her mouth piece, “And now, so are you.”

The Tuba led Tamara to a small group of people, surrounded by instruments. She walked in a daze, still not sure is this was real, or a dream brought about by too many hours of work. It’s a hallucination...it had to be. And soon...she will wake up...she hoped.

“Well, now that everyone’s here...at last, “the Kazoo stated, “We can get down to this meeting....”

“Introductions...introductions,” the Harmonica chirped, “Remember, they all know each other ‘on line’ only...”

“You’re right,” Kazoo agreed, “Okay introduction time...”

One by one, the guests officially met each other. Mary M. and Donna stood next to the piano, as it played a melodic tune. Kimberly, Mary Ann, and Joy Lee, were sitting down at a table nursing their beers, and discussing the bizarre chain of events. Tamara looked over at Craig, Maureen, and Jolene, who had been chatting merrily with one another, while Jenni Fever walked up behind them.

“Um, guys,” Jenni asked, “What’s going on? I was just checking my mail and poof...here I am...which is...” she looked around, “Where?”

“That’s a good question,” Craig looked over at Tamara.

“Hey,” she said defensively, “Don’t look at me, I’m not the one in charge here...”

“No,” Joy pointed out, “But you did start this silly story...which, by the way, was quite funny, until I found myself here.”

Maureen looked around at their surroundings and added, “Here, being a New Orleans Jazz club. And where’s Annmarie? Shouldn’t she be here?”

“I don’t know,” Tamara said miserably, “I don’t have all the answers.”

“But you’re writing this,” Kimberly said, “Tam, dear....I think your imagination has gotten the better of you.”

“But....but....”

This time, it was Kazoo who spoke up, “Um, hi guys...remember me? First of all, I want to thank all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to come here and visit us...”

“But where is here?!” Mary M. shouted, over the music.

“Oh, my god,” Tamara said, her eyes were wide, “We’re in cyberspace! Aren’t we.”

“But,” Donna said, “Cyberspace doesn’t exist. It’s not real.”

“It is now, I’m afraid,” a voice from behind them answered.

All those in the party turned around to see a tall, handsome Englishman standing with a drink in his hand. They couldn’t believe their eyes...it was Giles! And, damn...if he didn’t look good. But, for the Kazoo, this was a major distraction.

“Ahem,” he said, clearing his...um...throat, “Hi...can you guys focus for a few minutes? Yes, we are all in cyberspace...and yes, this is Giles...and we have a lot to discuss.”

******

For about twenty minutes, Kazoo, briefed the dazed and confused visitors on the reason for why they were summoned...

“So, you mean to tell us,” Mary Ann pondered, “that we are here because you guys don’t feel as though we are writing enough stories? Geeze...haven’t you instruments ever heard of real life?”

Harmonica cocked her body and answered, “No.”

“Well,” Donna continued, “It sometimes gets in the way of our writing. I mean, outside all this, we have jobs, families and responsibilities...”

“Having to balance all that, and write,” Tamara added, “is a lot harder than it looks.”

“I barely have time to breath anymore,” Jenni said, “never mind putting aside time to write...although, I do miss it.”

“But that’s our point,” Tuba said, “While you all have your lives to live, we’re stuck in here waiting for something to happen. It can get to be a bit annoying.”

“Not to mention,” Giles said, looking at Mary Ann, “I’m still stuck in this pink bathrobe.”

“Well,” she looked at him defiantly, “you’re no help. You haven’t said a word to me in weeks! I thought you liked it.”

“Yes, but pink?”

“Well....it was the first color that came to mind...and anyway...that’s not the point...”

“Can I say something?” Joy Lee asked, “I have been writing a ton of stuff, why am I here?”

“Yeah,” Jolene nodded, “me too.”

“Sorry,” the Kazoo said, “side effects of the spell...it’s kinda an ‘all or none’ thing. But, hey...at least you all can meet each other...right?”

“Well,” Maureen said, “there is that. And the beer. I’ve never had a cyber beer before.”

“Um, Hon? Hon?” Craig muttered as he followed his wife to the bar.

The others broke off into groups, chatting and laughing...and enjoying the evening. It was a party long overdue. Each of the instruments sought out their owners to have their own reunion with them. Kimberly and Harmonica sat down at the table, and began to iron out their problems...well, it was really to share a large glass of beer...but they were in deep conversation.

Donna saw Bassoon leaning up against the wall, looking melancholy as always. She cocked her head, took a deep breath and approached her lost friend, “Hey,” she greeted, “how are you?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“You’re not still mad about the whole Bagpipe thing are you?”

With that, the Bassoon gave a long deep sigh, “Bagpipes...no...I haven’t given it much thought. But, if you like them more than me...I understand...”

“Understand what...Lass?” a breathy squeal asked, “Ach, Donna...ye dinna tell me tha’ she was a real bonnie lass? An’ prettier than I could have imagined.”

Bassoon turned and looked at the Bagpipe, who was dressed in his finest plaid. “Y-you like m-me? Really?” she asked, her tone lightened as much as a Bassoon could.

“All Donna has been talkin’ ‘bout is you,” he explained, “an’ how much she misses you. An’ now I can see why. You’re a right pretty one. I canna wait to get to know ye better.”

“Yeah,” she said, following him off to a corner, “me too.”

******

Kazoo, sat next to Mary M., avoiding her angry glares, “So...er...ah...” he said in a small voice, “How are you?”

“How do you think?!” she answered angrily, “I got to read that you became a real PlayKazoo...what the Hell was that about?! Have you completely forgotten about Prissy?”

“Prissy?”

“Yes,” she said, “you know....my possessed keyboard. Donna gave her a name...but you missed that one.”

“Prissy? Really? Wow, that’s a nice name...how is she?”

“She’s lost without you...that’s how she is!” Then Mary’s tone softened, “So, am I. You don’t realize how much you mean to us...Prissy and I. When you left...I...well...I just want you to come home.”

Kazoo paused and asked, “You think she’s still mad at me?”

Mary smiled, knowing who he meant, “No...not too much. But I think you should send her virtual flowers.”

******

Tamara sat down at a table, by herself, nursing a virtual beer. It wasn’t quite as good as the real thing, but at least she knew she wouldn’t have a hangover. Tuba sat down next to her and turned her horn to her. “So,” she asked, “you looked a bit tired.”

Tamara sighed, “A bit yeah...it’s been a rough few weeks.” Then changing the subject she asked, “Did you guys have fun?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “pretty good. But I’ll be glad to get home. We can play some cool tunes...” she noticed Tamara looking down into her beer, and asked, “Okay...what’s up?”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?”

“I don’t really play the Tuba.”

“Huh?”

She cleared her thought, “Well, you see...I never played the tuba. I play the Clarinet, Bass Clarinet and Sax...”

“But not the Tuba?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Tamara gulped her beer and asked, “You’re not mad, are you?”

The Tuba considered it for a moment and smiled, as only a Tuba could, “Nah...besides, in cyberspace...anything is possible.”

“Which reminds me,” Tamara got up and headed to the rest of the group, “Guys, I have a question...does anyone know how we’re getting back?”

Silence swept over the room. Even the band stopped playing, as the group looked toward the old woman who sauntered up to them. “Now dis, I can help you wit.”

“Who are you?” Joy Lee asked.

“Momma Babin,” Tamara answered, “Hey, how did I know that?”

“Cause, dis story is up t’you. You writin’ dis,”

Tamara looked at the group confused, “But, I’m right here. How can I be writing this? I mean, I’m stuck in cyperspace with the rest of you.”

“Yes,” the old woman said, “yes you are. But, dere’s no difference between wha’ you make up an’ wha’ is real. Dis is real, ‘cause you make it real. Like all of you make us real, by d’stories you write. All you need t’do is write y’selves back home.”

“But how?” Tamara asked, “I don’t even have a keyboard with me.”

Giles’ eyes lit up, “Hang on...what about the one in the office?”

“Yes! Yes!” the Kazoo jumped up, “We could use that!”

The entire group rushed into the tiny office, cramming into the small space like sardines in a can. Tamara heard someone mention that this reminded them of a Marx Brother’s movie, but she was too busy trying to type as fast as she could. Then she stopped.

“What is it?” Kimberly asked.

“What’s wrong?” echoed Mary M.

“I have an idea,” Tamara said, with an evil grin.

She typed at a furious pace, until the reality that was around them, began to change. Suddenly, Annmarie popped into existence. She looked at the group and shook her head. “Okay, I give...what’s going on?”

“Hiya,” Tamara smiled, “Bare with me for a moment.” She continued to type. All those in the room froze as a low growl filled the room.

“Um, Tamara,” Mary Ann gulped, “You didn’t...did you?”

Standing next to her was a large wolf-like beast. The creature waved it’s forked tail, and gave a deep hiss. “Yup,” Tamara smiled again, “I did.” Then turning to Annmarie, she asked, “Do you think you could help us track down Maxine?”

It was at this point that they all realized what she was planning, “I think so...I mean, I have her bogus e-mails...”

“Cool,” she said, standing up, “Type it in, and send my puppies on their way.”

Annmarie sat down at the keyboard and began to type. One by one, the three Hounds that Tamara, Summoned ran off to track down their prey. She then stood up and looked at her, “Now what?”

“Now, we wait.”

“Will this work?” Jenni asked.

“I think so,” Tamara said, looking at the Tuba, “I mean, in here...we can do anything.”

Annmarie looked at her list children and folded her arms, “Great...now can someone explain to me what is going on?”

******

It wasn’t long before the hounds returned with their prize. Maxine...or the cyber equivalent of her...stood facing the angry mob. “W-what is going on?”

“You screwed up my list!” Annmarie hissed.

“And insulted us!” Craig and Maureen said in unison.

“We might the minority of people who likes Joyce,” Kimberly growled, “But that doesn’t give you the right to assault us like that!”

“I didn’t hurt anything. What’s your problem,” Maxine defended, “I could have really done some damage to you guys if I wanted to.”

“You did do damage,” Tamara pointed out, “For a week you had us mistrusting everything we read, and heard. You raped our minds and souls...and betrayed us on the ultimate level. You betrayed our trust! That is more damage than anything a virus could have done.”

“So, what are you going to do?” she said defiantly, “You can’t kill me...I don’t really exist.”

“You’re right,” Tamara said, sitting down at the keyboard, “you’re just a collection of bytes...that can’t be killed. Physically. But,” she added, as her finger neared the delete button, “you can be erased.”

“Nooooo....”

plink

“That felt good,” Mary M. smiled, “don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Tamara said, “it really did.”

“So, I guess that means it’s time to go home,” Jolene sighed, “And just when I was beginning to have fun. This was really cool. We really have to do this again sometime...maybe on list...”

“Or maybe in person,” Mary Ann suggested.

“Hey,” Annmarie said, “That would really be cool. We could get our Giles and Joyce tee shirts...and have a barbecue...”

“With Beer,” Tamara added, “lots of beer.”

“I could live with that.” Mary M. smiled.

“So,” Craig asked, “what now?”

“Now,” Tamara said, sitting back down, “I send you guys back.”

“Time to say goodbye,” Donna said, “Back to Texas...and the heat.”

“It’s not the heat,” Jolene said, hugging her, “It’s the humidity.”

“Fine,” Kimberly said with a wicked smile, “then instead of people catching on fire in the streets, they just melt.”

Giles walked up to Mary Ann and took her hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been of much use to you...I’ve been fairly busy, with all of the other stories I appear to be in. But if it’s any help, why don’t you have Joyce and I talk about Buffy...it’s a subject that we both have in common. From there...well, anything is possible.”

He kissed her hand lightly, as she disappeared from the room. He turned to Jenni and smiled, “And you...you’re a very talented writer...I hope you can find the time to tell a tale or two.”

“I’ll try,” Jenni said, blushing. A moment later, she was gone.

Craig and Maureen were next. Giles shook Craig’s hand and kissed Maureen’s. “So, I hope to read more from the two of you. You’re very good at your craft, but you need to write more...I’m sure your list mates would love to read anything you both have to write.”

“We’ll try,” Craig smile, taking his wife’s hand as they faded away.

Tamara was the last one left in the room. She stood up for a moment and looked at the characters in the room.

The Kazoo

The Tuba

The Harmonica

The Bassoon, and her new boyfriend...the Bagpipe

Momma Babin

And most importantly...Giles.

“I hate this part,” she said, walking over to him.

“Which part is that,” he asked, taking her hand.

“The ending. It always makes me a bit depressed. I mean, I get to know the characters, and then I have to say goodbye.”

Giles smiled, and looked into her green eyes, “Oh, now...I’m never one to say goodbye. There are always other stories to write. Characters to create. Through you, and other writers, our world is created. The more you write, the richer our lives are. You shouldn’t be sad, you should be looking forward to create another part of our world.”

Tamara fought back tears, “I know...I know. But it’s so hard. I want to write...but I’m getting less time to do so. To me, this is more than just a hobby...but...”

“Then write.”

“But...”

“Just write,” Giles said, wiping a small tear from her cheek, “Everything else will come in time. Now...chin up...and get back to making fiction. Our lives depend on it.”

She smiled, “Yes, sir.”

“And Tamara?”

“Yes?”

He kissed her on the cheek, “Stop beating the hell out of me. First I get poisoned...now...Hell Hounds...”

“Sorry...I can’t help it...” she grinned, as she began to fade, “Putting characters in impossible situations is what I do best.”

“Tell me about it.” He smiled back, “Just give me a happy ending.”

“Don’t I always?”

blink

******

The Possessed Instruments sat around the virtual bar, wishing that they could have enjoyed the company of their humans, and beer, a little while longer. It was quiet in the club, all the virtual customers had already left for their homes, and Giles left for Sunnydale hours before, leaving them alone in the bar.

“So, what do we do now?” Tuba asked the Kazoo.

Kazoo looked over at the Bassoon and Bagpipe, who were enjoying each other’s company, and sighed, “We wait until another story’s late...”

“And we play our little hearts out,” Harmonica piped.