It had been months since Jordan Collier had taken over Seattle, or as the ponytailed megalomaniac had rechristened it, Promise City. Immediately, the federal government tried to retake the city, but with the thousands of new troops added by the promicin plague outbreak, Jordan was able to repel the federal forces and to keep Promise City under his perfectly manicured clutches. And yes, Jordan did keep his promise of a paradise on earth; soon people from other parts of the country were asking to come to live amongst the chosen.

Yet, all was not perfect in this manmade Heaven on earth. A flurry of murders, of both promicin-negatives and promicin-positives, littered the roads of Promise City. Panic was beginning to overcome the citizens, even as Jordan worked feverishly to learn the identity or identities of those responsible for the violence that besmirched Promise City's good name.

Jordan knew he couldn't do anything personally; he was too well-known, and besides, those responsible would probably lie to him anyways. He also knew that couldn't bring in NTAC to investigate. He had promised the promicin-positives that they were safe here, that NTAC would no longer harrass them or make them submit to arbitrary and often embarrassing tests to prove their loyalty to the society as a whole. Furthermore, as far as the government was concerned, Promise City had succeded from the United States and as long as they didn't expand, the United States would not consider them a threat and take further actions against them.

Still, Jordan's problem remained. If he couldn't investigate and NTAC was barred from doing so, who could he trust to gather the valuable intel to unearth the murderer or murderers bringing fear and loathing to Promise City?

A crooked smile expanded across Jordan's bearded face as he pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Miss Tobey, would you come in here, please?"

"Yes, Mr. Collier. Right away, sir."

"Thank you, Miss Tobey."

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A few seconds later, Heather Tobey appeared in Jordan's office, notepad in hand. "What can I do for you today, Mr. Collier?"

"I need you to set up a meeting between Shawn Farrell and myself", Jordan said nonchalantly.

Heather Tobey gasped.

"What?" Jordan asked, as if the implications of what he had just said went straight over his head.

"Nothing sir, but you imprisioned him about a year ago for passing out ubiquinone to all the promicin negatives. At the time, you said that he was trying to subvert the power of the state."

Jordan shrugged. "It was nothing personal. He knew that when he accepted sanctuary in Promise City that we are explicitly pro-promicin and if he had a problem with that, he was free to leave at any time."

"But where would he had gone? His mother had just died, and he was still grieving over what he had to do..... to his brother."

"That does not concern me, Heather", Jordan replied, his eyes turning icy cold and vacant for a second. "Can you get me a meeting with Mr. Ferrell or not, Miss Tobey?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, dear. That's all I needed for the moment", he said, as he returned to his other duties.
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Shawn Ferrell was no ordinary prisioner. He was free to leave his cell at any time, and his room was fairly private, considering the charge he was imprisioned for. Any other person charged with treason would be lucky to get their daily allotment of bread and water, yet Shawn got three catered meals a day. It was the reality of his complicated relationship with Jordan Collier.

Shawn was allowed to continue healing anyone who needed healing. He was given practically anything he wanted, except anything that could aid in his escape, and expense was no object. However, Shawn was under no illusions--- he was not free. Jordan had dispatched three of his best and most loyal soldiers to watch after Mr. Ferrell: Micheal Lawrence, who could raise or lower oxygen levels in blood; Paul Newbold, who could raise or lower body temperature; and Tina Richardson, who could erase memories.

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He laid on his queen-sized bed and read his copy of "Les Miserables". He chuckled to himself, suddenly remembering the time when he asked Richard if he was some sort of jailhouse philosopher. Ironically, now, Richard was the one on the lam, and here he was sitting in jail, becoming jaded and overly intellectual.

He turned down the book on his bed as he heard voices in the distance.

"What do you mean she has permission to come see the prisioner?", Tina asked.

"That's what the papers say. And it's signed by Jordan himself", Paul replied.

"How do we know if they're geniune? Jordan said he would never let the kid out", Micheal wondered aloud, upset that they would have to actually grant the request. If it had been up to Micheal, Shawn would have been dead long ago.

"I assure you that they're real", Heather protested.

"How can we believe that? You were with that traitor until Jordan arrested him for spreading ubiquinone", Micheal spewed.

Paul was already one step ahead of Micheal. He was on the phone with Jordan, asking him of the documents' authenticity.

"They're real. Let her through."

"Damn.... I was hoping for some fun", Micheal pouted.

"I'd hate to be you, Micheal, so full of hate, and so blind", Heather said, as she pushed by him.

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[to be continued]

Nice story PJ!

Oh, I have plans for this story...

I LOVE IT.
I was totally into it.
*sits patiently waiting for more*

Shawn looked up from his book and saw Heather Tobey standing there. A broad, mirthful smile rapidly spread across his face and he jumped up to embrace her in a warm hug. "Heather, what are you doing here? I thought Jordan was still punishing me by not allowing me to see my friends."

Shawn's hug must have lasted a little too long, because the next thing Shawn knew, he was pried from Heather's arms and thrown across the room. Heather rolled her eyes at Micheal. "Really, Micheal, was that neccessary? Or do you get your kicks from torturing your prisioners?"

Micheal sneered. "Keep your nose in your own business, lady. You do your job, and I'll do mine." Satisfied his job was done, he left to return to his guard station.

Heather helped Shawn to his feet, making sure that nothing had been broken in the exchange. "Are you alright?", she asked, her hands lingering in his hands a bit long.

"I'm fine, now that you're here", Shawn said, once again smiling. "But you never answered my question-- what are you doing visiting me? Are you revolting against Jordan?"

"No," Heather replied, followed by a heavy sigh, "as tempting as it may be though, I'm not leading a revolt. I'm here to ask you to speak with Jordan."

Shawn's eyes filled with anger. "Why would I want to meet with that despot? He proclaims to be humanity's champion, but he's nothing more than a promicin enhanced Hitler."

Shawn threw himself on the bed, his back to Heather. "Tell him I'm not meeting with him, no way, no how!"

Heather slid in behind him and began to massage his shoulders. "Now is that anyway for you to act, Shawn Ferrell? I remember not so long ago when a certain sexy healer was campaigning to bring positives and negatives together. You know, agreeing to meeting with Jordan Collier and listening to what he has to say would go a long way to proving the sincerity of your words."

Shawn melted into Heather's skillful hands and with it, his desire to protest. "But he's hurt me so many times, Heather. So many times."

"Yes, he probably has, Shawn. But he has also helped so many others."

Shawn sighed, knowing he was defeated. "Okay, I'll agree to meet with him. But I'm not doing anything unethical..."

Heather got up and kissed Shawn on the cheek. "I'll relay your comments back to Jordan. He'll probably be down sometime tommorrow."

Shawn twirled his finger in mock excitement. "Oh, goodie!"

She walked to the door, smirking. "Goodnight, Shawn. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

And then she left.
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[to be continued]

Jordan paced around his office, checking his voicemail every few seconds like a lovesick puppy. In a way, this was a date, only Jordan was playing the cheating spouse who was trying to prove the sincerely of their words of affections. Finally, the phone vibrated.

"Collier here."

"Jordan, it's Heather. I'm going to take off for the day, but I just wanted to call and let you know that Shawn has reluctantly agreed to meet with you."

"Why reluctantly?"

"He believes you are going to try and make him do something unethical."

Jordan guffawed. "Me? Unethical? Pfffft! Never..."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Well, you have a good night, Jordan. See you in the morning."

"Night, Heather."

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[to be continued]

YAY!!! Can I even express how much I already looovvee this thread? Thanks PJ!! As always you are a genius! Oh and I just wanted to say that I freaking love this little analogy-

"In a way, this was a date, only Jordan was playing the cheating spouse who was trying to prove the sincerely of their words of affections."

Hmmmm..... I wonder why?? But that is another story completely isn't it?

Hey, a guy can have a few inside jokes, can't he?

I'm so glad you approve!

Totally!! As long as I am on the inside too!

Oh Megs, you're so inside, that you're outside again!

And Elessar, I can see your smile all the way from Tennessee!

What would you do-o-o-o-o-o-o for a Klondike bar?

*mixes up a fresh batch of tomatotinis & pops the tomato-cheddar popcorn*

*Ele, Meg come join me on the sectional sofa while we watch the newest and freshest series by PJ Network*

Yay! You know when AM makes the tomatotini's you don't want to miss out!!!

*Jumps on the couch (NOT Tom Cruise style) next to Amerirish, saving a spot for Ele.*

PJ, you wouldn't want to make us ladies wait forever would you????

But patience is a virtue, isn't it Megs? You'll get your update soon enough...

ROFLMFAO!!!!

F**k virtue!! Its overrated! We want material!!



Don't you know that we girls are insatiable?

HAHA!!! Here here!

Hey guys, any room for me on that couch? You know I (or any woman for that matter) can't resist PJ's amazing storytelling!

Great story so far PJ, we want more!

Of course Marcofan!! You know how long you lurk we will always save you a spot!!

Before I continue, can I make a suggestion? Can we make a SFC comment thread so that the story isn't seperated by nearly a page of commentary and wheeling/dealing? And maybe Megan can keep us update of all the juicy tidbits of the SFC and the 1,001 Things...

The next day, Jordan woke up to a flurry of horrid headlines. "Bodies sprayed over Promicin City buildings", said one paper. "Drainage ditch overflows in blood of mutilated corpses", wrote another. Even the Promise City Times, a paper normally pro-Jordan in its coverage of local news, had an editorial asking, "If Jordan Collier can't even find the person or persons responsible for these murders from committing more, we wonder if he is the Messiah he has promised to be, and maybe we should look for new leadership."

Jordan clenched his teeth and flung the newspapers against the walls. "How dare they make me look incompetent. Whoever is doing this will pay for this."

Heather, hearing the noise, barged into the office. "Is everything alright, sir?"

"Everything's fine. Just some negative press and I was blowing off some steam."

"Would you like me to bring you your breakfast and morning tea, sir?"

"That would be nice, Heather. Thanks."

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An hour later, Jordan finished his meal and rubbed his tummy in satisfaction. As Heather came in and took away the tray, Jordan pulled her into his lap. "You know, there's a quicker way to earn your salvation."

"And what's that, Jordan?"

"I was thinking we could reenact some Romanian history. I could be Vlad the Impaler, and you could be his victim."

"That's disgusting", Heather said as she tried getting away from him. "Do I need to call the authorities on you?"

"What are you talking about, Heather. I AM the authorities!"

"As you are so fond of reminding your employees on a regular basis...", Heather replied bitterly.

"If you know it, then why aren't you stripping...", demanded Jordan.

Heather thought quickly. She needed something that would intrigue Jordan more than getting a quick lay with her would provide. Then she remembered, Jordan needed to meet with Shawn.

"Well, if you started in on me, it would take up the whole day, sir. I wouldn't want to make you late for your meeting with Shawn."

Jordan flinched and stood up, sending Heather straight to the floor. "Well, why didn't you tell me?"

Jordan beeped his private designer to come to his office immediately, and as Heather closed the door, she swore she could hear Jordan say, "Mmmm..................Shawn!"
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Shawn sat on his bed reading "1984" when he heard footsteps approach and stop directly in front of his cell. He looked up and saw Jordan in a black designer Calvin Klein business suit, his long Messiah hair tied back neatly into a ponytail.

"Shawn, it's been too long."

Shawn eyes narrowed and a low-pitched growl escaped his tightly sealed lips. "I'm not accepting your apology, Jordan. You made your bed, now you've got to lie in it."

"Yes, and you in yours."

Shawn jaw clenched tightly, and one could hear his teeth grind together. "So you now go around imprisoning your friends? Don't ever think of talking to them, just put them in a cell and throw away the key?"

Jordan laughed. "I know where you are, and you know where I am. Do you really think we would have convinced the other?"

"No, I guess not", Shawn reluctantly agreed.

"So, why have you come here, Jordan?"

"For two reasons", Jordan said as he moved in closer to Shawn, " the first of which is to see if we could rekindle what we once had." Jordan looked into Shawn's eyes and he saw a flicker of what had once had been love, adoration, loyalty, and friendship. Jordan's stomach fluttered, as did, unbeknowst to him, Shawn's.

"I miss having you at my side, being my concious, making me better", Jordan whispered honestly. It was true, he missed Shawn terribly. He only wished Shawn felt the same way.

Shawn's face snickered. "So you're already tired of Kyle? I told you blind loyalty is too much of a drug for any one man to indulge in, even one as powerful as you. Eventually, you either get addicted, or tire of it."

Jordan shook his head in pity. "What is this thing between you and Kyle? It seems everytime you two are in a room together you guys trash talk each other or resort to fisticuffs."

"He knows exactly what he did. Until he owns up to it, I ain't going to have nothin' to do with him."

Shawn, eager to move the conversation away from Kyle, noted how attractive Jordan looked in his suit.

"Thanks. I had it special made for you." Realizing how that might sound, he quickly rephrased it. "What I meant to say was that I made it special so that you couldn't try and use your powers on me."

Shawn eyes twinkled in impish delight. "So if I did this", Shawn said, as he gently stroked Jordan's chin, "it would do nothing for you."

"Yes, that's what I said. I just wanted to make sure you couldn't kill me because of something silly like putting you in this prison cell."

Shawn shrugged. "Eh, whatever. I don't care if you perv on me anyways."

"So, what do you really want Jordan?"

"I need someone to investigate the wave of murders in Promise City."

-----------------
[to be continued]
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Shawn voice grew acidic. "Oh how the mighty have fallen. How I remember you promising the world peace and prosperity in an universe run by Collier. And even you couldn't ensure everyone's happiness and safety twenty-four seven."

He began to shake his head in pity. "Tsk tsk tsk! Poor Jordan! The god isn't as all-powerful as he claims..."

That's when Jordan slapped Shawn. "You have no right to judge me, Ferrell. Everything that I do is for the betterment of humanity."

"More like the betterment of your image. You're nothing more than a snake oil salesman, and that's all you'll ever be, Jordan."

Jordan slapped him again. "I may not be perfect, but at least I have never killed a man. Need I remind you, my dear friend, that he who is without sin cast the first stone?"

Shawn knew exactly what he was referring to. He had always felt shame since the day that he killed his brother Danny, especially since he had always promised to use his powers for the betterment of humanity. But here Shawn was killing his brother--- yes, Danny was asking for it, but still---when he had options. Shawn could have gotten Jordan to neutralize the ability, but he was too damn prideful; he could have gotten a promicin dialysis machine, any number of options really. What did it really say about him that he chose the most radical?

Shawn hung his head down. "I'm sorry, Jordan. I don't have any room to judge."

Jordan gently grabbed Shawn's chin and pulled it up so that Shawn's eyes met his. "Look, I came here because I trust you. Despite all that has happened, I still believe you to be a decent man and there is no one I would rather give such an important assignment."

"Does that mean I'm your special boy once more?"

Jordan smiled broadly. "What do you think?"

"Mmmm....Jordan!"

"Hey now, Shawn, this isn't one of those type of stories..."

"Sorry, Jordan", Shawn replied meekly.

"Now, Shawn, we've got a killing spree going on and the killer is targeting positives and negatives alike. I think that whoever is doing this is trying to embarrass me either to elect someone more radical than I am, or to get the government to act and foce a full scale war between the government and the promicin positives. Either choice will lead to diastrous results."

"Okay. But how will I get out of here? You simply can't let me go and everyone believe that I'm not up to something."

"Very true. That's why I'm going to let you escape. You will be target number one on Jordan's most wanted." In his mind, Jordan added, 'In more ways than one.'

"But it needs to be a major dragout affair for anyone to believe it."

"Just leave that part to me. All you have to do is figure out who's behind the waves of murder pounding Promise City's shores."

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[to be continued...]

Excellent installments, PJ!!!

Marcofan, of course we saved you a seat on the couch....

*pours tomatotini from fresh batch for MF*

*can I get anyone a tomato-cream puff?*

Thank you, Amerirish!

*But do you think we should ease up on the tomato-laced products, given the salmonella scare?*

*PJ, don't you know that my tomato products are supplied by Promise City?? The FDA, The USDA, etc ain't got nuttin on that!!! *

"Glad to know my tomatotini habit won't be stopped during this horrible time...*

*hands PJ a glass & goes to make another pitcher*

*grabs a tomatotini and continues the Chronicles*

The next morning, Shawn woke up coughing smoke. He quickly dressed himself in a pair of Calvin Klein briefs and went to check out the situation. But before he could do anything, he felt a pair of hands stop him.

"I wouldn't go that way, Mr. Ferrell."

"And why not?", Shawn asked irately.

"Because I don't think even your powers can heal being burnt to a crisp. There's a fire raging out there, and I've been sent to get you out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere with someone I don't know."

The mysterious stranger spun Shawn until he came face to face with her. It was none other than Heather Tobey!

She took his brief moment of surprise to ogle him conspiciously. "I really like this look on you. Especially this", she said, groping his package.

Shawn felt like a piece of meat being inspected. "I thought you said there was a fire going on. Shouldn't we be going?"

Heather Tobey began to kiss Shawn's neck. "Oh hush now! Live a bit dangerously Shawn."

Just then, Shawn and Heather heard a knock at the door. "Mr. Ferrell, we're here to get you to safety. Please open the door."

Heather walked over to the wall and touched one of the panels. A secret door opened up.

The voice on the other side of the door continued, "Sir, if you don't open up, we'll be forced to break down this door. Mr. Collier has placed a high priority on your safety and if he finds out we let you burn in this fire, he'll have our heads."

Heather motioned for Shawn to follow her.

"That's it; we're coming in. One.... two...."

He didn't know why, but he decided to follow Heather. Yes, she wanted to get into his pants, or rather, briefs, but hey, that wasn't such a bad thing was it? Besides, he had a feeling this was all part of Jordan's master plan.

"Three..." The door to Shawn's room came down with a giant crack.

"He's gone, sir", the rescue officer said in astonishment. "But how?"

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! I'll go inform Mr. Collier right away. The rest of you go aid the Promise City firefighters. Shawn Ferrell was the last of the prisoners to be rescued."

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Inside the secret passage...

"How is Jordan going to explain this one, Heather? It's not like I can turn invisible."

"Don't worry about it. Jordan's got it covered", Heather tried to reassure him.

"Have you finally drank the Messiah Kool-Aid? I thought you were smarter than that.."

"You think that fire was an accident?", Heather shot back.

"Not, but..."

"Then shut up and listen..."

"Jordan is going to say that you escaped the night before and that you used your ability on your three guards, tricking them into your cell one by one and draining most of their life force before they could use their abilities against you."

Heather and Shawn approached a corner. Shawn looked at Heather quizzically. "Which way?"

"Left."

"As I was saying", Heather continued, "Jordan will also say that you came back later and began to torch the place as a way to conceal your disappearance and to slow down the offical investigation. For his part, Jordan will do everything he can on his end to hinder the investigation without stopping it completely."

Shawn nodded. "Okay, that makes sense. But I still don't like looking like an arsonist."

"Jordan had the place insured months ago. He was just looking for an excuse to build new housing for positves, anyway."

Shawn and Heather arrived at the end of the secret tunnel. "So where am I to go now?"

Heather thought for a second. "Try the Utopia. It's a mixed-type bar on the North Side of Seattle. Maybe you can put out some feelers there."

"Thanks."

Shawn grabbed the door handle and began to turn the knob. He looked back at Heather with puppy dog eyes. He was going to miss her.

"Shawn?"

"Yes, Heather?", he responded a bit excitedly.

"How about a lay for old times sake?"

"How about a raincheck?"

Heather batted her eyes. "Pretty please?"

"Goodbye, Heather."

And with that, the door closed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[to be continued]

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Several hours later, Shawn entered the bar Heather had clued them in. It seemed normal enough, with positives and negatives enjoying each other's company without animosity. He didn't like the decorating though, a bit too spartan for his tastes.

He sat down and ordered a beer. The barkeep looked at him and asked him if he wanted "the special brew".

"What?", Shawn asked.

"You're obviously new around here, so I won't take that as an insult. You see, I make a special beer that lets you feel the buzz of drinking, but doesn't make you drunk no matter how much you drink. And the best part is that it doesn't hurt your liver."

"Bet it tastes like crap", Shawn said, grumbling.

"Boy", the fifty-four year old man behind the counter growled, "don't make me have to teach you some manners."

Shawn pushed his body away from the counter, just in case the burly man tried to reach out and grab him. "I'm sorry, but I just can't see how something like you have described would taste any good."

"Let's just say, I'm blessed", the man said, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a small green 'P' on his arm. "You want to be blessed anytime... and I'll be sure to hook you up."

"Thanks for offering, but I'll have to pass. Just give me one of the specials."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn took his drink and went to sit somewhere else. He had to admit the beer was good-- warm, earthy, with just a hint of orange and ginger. He sat there, nursing his drink, wondering what he was supposed to do about finding the killer or killers that was currently torturing the people of Promise City. I mean, he thought, were they simply going to come up to me and say 'Hi, I'm a mass murderer and you are...?'

He felt a tugging at his arm and turned to find Maia standing there. "Shawn", she said, as she wrapped her arms around him, "it's so good to see you. I knew you would get out."

"It's so good to see you, too. But what are you doing here, Maia? Is Diana here with you or something?"

Shawn's eyes raced around the Utopia, hoping to find the mother of one of his dearest friends.

"Oh, Mom's obsessed with spreading ubiquinone to the masses. She's hardly at home anymore, convinced she can change the world. She still don't believe that it's better now that we're in charge."

He smiled. Good ole Diana. "And you?"

"I work here. I have a booth in the next room and people pay me money to hear their futures foretold."

"I didn't think you had honed your skills that much, Maia."

"I've been seeing Heather pretty regularly since Jordan's taken over. He's ordered important positives to schedule appointments with her to see if she can't improve their abilities."

"Yeah, so he can keep his foot on the throat of power", Shawn grumbled.

"No, Shawn, so he can keep everyone in the city safe."

She hugged Shawn once more and apologized for having to leave. "After work, I need to speak to you. I had a vision you'll be interested in."

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While Maia and Shawn were having their talk, a brown-haired lady dressed in a black cloak entered the Utopia and slid into the back corner booth. Opposite her sat Kyle.

"Have you done it?"

"Yes", Kyle shot back. "Do you think I can't do anything correctly? God, I hear that so much from everyone.... Jordan, the viewers, my dad, some guy named Joel Gretsch.... I swear I just want to punch their lights out and be done with it."

"No, I just wanted to make sure our plan is proceeding according to the timeline."

"I will be so glad when this is done, when all will be revealed."

"Yes, the Father's face will finally be revealed... once and for all."

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Megan Christine had traveled to Promise City from Eugene, Oregon. She had heard fantastic tales about the wonderous way of life that existed there within the walls of Jordan's fortress. Seeing nothing for her except her dead end job and her loser boyfriend back in Eugene, she had packed her stuff and made the trip to see if the hype was real.

She pulled into a hotel and asked for a room for the night. The attendant nodded, took the cash, and handed her back a key to her room. She felt a surge of energy rush through her system as the sun started to settle below the horizon and the dizzying display of neon lights slowly flickered on. Megan opened the door and headed to her car.

As Megan drove around the city, she saw a billboard for Maia. It had Maia wearing a turban and looking into a crystal ball, telling everyone that she saw a trip to the Utopia in their future. Then, below her, it said that all of her visions were 100% accurate and genuine.

Megan sighed. "What the hell? It might be a fun way to kill a few hours before dinner..."

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Ten minutes later, Megan had found her way to the Utopia. She parked and entered, inquiring of the barkeep where the soothsayer was. He pointed to the next room, seperated only by a black velvet curtain embossed generously with silver stars. But, as she walked, she noticed something far more intriguing.... a certain, young Ferrell.

[[to be continued]]

Oh how I wish I were that Megan from Eugene, OR.

Nice epi PJ, very funny, especially the loser boyfriend part (I don't why!)

Pssssstt PJ.......What do I have to do to get you to write the next part a.s.a.p.??

ROFLMAO!!! There's the old Super Scribe, PJ! Well done Sir, well done indeed!

*psst, hi Meggy *

I knew you'd enjoy it... thanks for props!

*sigh* Alas! I guess there is nothing I can do to get a certain brilliant writer to write a little teeny tiny bit more.......



HI Amerirish!!!

Yes, hi AMERIRISH!

Megan, love, begging is definitely not one of your endearing qualities. I had planned on updating this post and just hadn't gotten around to it yet. And just so this response doesn't come across as sour, what if I said that the character Megan in this story was inspired by someone I know and that she has a big part to play in the story to come...

Yet, the lovely Miss Wheeler hadn't gone unnoticed as well. Kyle looked over in her direction and nodded to his companion. She snorted in laughter. "You can't seriously be interested in that piece of fish?"

"What if I am?", Kyle shot back defensively.

"She's so austere looking, and I bet she has a personality to match. If you're looking for companionship, I'll give you a ride that'll make you see stars."

Kyle smirked. "What? Jealous? But I thought you said she had no looks or personality..."

His companion shifted uncomfortably on her pleather covered bench. She hemmed and hawed before looking down at her watch and making some comment about the time. She threw a few dollars down on the table to cover her part of the tab and got up.

"Just remember about our plan", she said sternly. Her icy cold stare shot right through Kyle, and if her eyes had been bullets, Kyle would be dead right now, his brains splattered on the wall behind him.

"Yeah, yeah. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a line to bait..."

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Shawn continued to nurse his drink, waiting for Maia to finish her shift. He watched in amusement as the neon gasses moved about their tubal circuits, changing the various advertisements for liquors of all sorts. How simple must life be for those gasses in there, he thought to himself.

Inside Megan, a war raged. "You'll never get with him. He's sooooo hot, and you're so ugly. You think he'll ever stoop down into the gutter for a date? You'd have a better chance of getting the 4400 back on the air."

"So what if he's a dreamboat? He's your dreamboat and all you've got to do is climb aboard to catch a ride. If he's all that you think he is, he won't be the shallow jerk Con is making him out to be."

"You know what they say about dreamboats? No? They all crash. I mean, just look at the Titanic for crying out loud. Pro's feeding you a bunch of Horse Hockey!, Megan, and it's time you wised up. Just get your palm read and move on. After all, Kate Winslet didn't even get her Leonardo DiCaprio in the end, and the movie was nearly four hours."

"There Con goes again, giving you a bit a truth to cover his lies. The truth is that while maybe Kate didn't get Leo in the end, she did get him for that hour in the car. And who knows? Had Billy Zane not been such a major dick, maybe they would have been together. Don't be your own worst Billy Zane."

"Hey now! Billy Zane is a great actor, I have you know!"

"See, Con's at it again, trying to distract you. He's always been quite the contrarian. Say the sky's blue, and he'll say it's orange or yellow or a million other colors just so he don't have to debate the underlying facts."

"But he is! I couldn't let you continue without making this truth painfully true."

"Ok, so now that you have, can I continue, Con?"

"Minus as well. We already know where this is headed..."

"Megan, give yourself a chance. You came to Promise City to make a clean break from the past, so don't ruin it by cowering in the past. Open yourself to the possibility of love, maybe even with someone who makes you weak in the knees and then heal them with one touch of his hand."

"Arrgh! I swear these things are fixed..."

And with that, Megan tapped Shawn on the shoulders.

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Kyle looked away to make sure his hair was combed. He grabbed a comb from his back and preened his hair for a few minutes until he was reluctantly satisfied that his hair was straightened. He checked his breath for freshness, and after about thirty shots of Bianca, decided his breath did smell nice and minty.

He looked over and saw Megan tap Shawn on the shoulder. His face registered a brief scowl, as it did each and every time he saw his cousin. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, Kyle could never catch a break. Shawn was good; Kyle was bad. No matter that it was Shawn who had taken Kyle up to Highland Beach to get drunk that weekend when Shawn was taken by the Future. Or that Shawn got an extremely powerful ability out of the deal, one that if used selfishly could make Shawn a god, while he got three years of head-splitting headaches, blackouts, and jailtime, and when he did take the shot, all he got was Cassie. He still hadn't figured out if she was an ability or an entity from the Future playing one giant practical joke.

Even with women, Kyle got short shrift. Shawn got Isabelle, and then when he was done with her, Shawn passed Isabelle on down to him like a pair of secondhand trousers. Isabelle, for her part, said that she wanted to be with him, but deep down, Kyle always thought that she longed to be with Shawn. And the one time he had the chance to score with a chick not associated with Shawn, what do you know, Kyle blacked out and would up naked in the sprinklers.

Kyle was not going to play second fiddle to Shawn. Not this time. Not ever again.

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Shawn turned around in his chair. "Can I help you, Miss?", he said warmly.

"I was wondering.... I was wondering.... if.... if.... this chair was taken?"

"To tell you the truth, I was kinda waiting for someone, but you're welcome to sit with me until they get here."

"Thank.... thank you", Megan replied, quickly diving for a seat, less the young heartthrob change his mind.

Shawn returned to his philosophizing the existence of neon gas, while Megan kept stealing glances whenever she felt he wasn't looking. After a few minutes, he broke the silence.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"Uh... uh.... uh... no... gee, I'm so sorry", Megan sputtered, her face now a rosy blush. "It's just... just... you're so... so... beautiful."

Shawn smiled broadly at her. "Why, thank you, um... um...", he proffered, fishing for the young woman's name.

"Megan. Megan Christine."

"Well, Miss Megan. Miss Megan Christine. My name's Shawn Ferrell, and it's nice to meet you. So what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"Wanted a clean start. I just got into town earlier tonight from Eugene. Loser boyfriend. Dead end job. Life was going nowhere fast. One day, I got tired of it and packed my stuff and started driving..."

Shawn was stunned by her admission, so he didn't respond. But Megan was impulsive and took his silence to mean condemnation and started to lose her cool.

"God, you must think I'm a stupid loser.... spilling out her guts to the first guy.... she meets...", she spat out in between her tears.

Shawn moved in closer and threw his arms around her. "No, no, Megan. I don't think you're a loser at all. In fact, I think you're a very brave woman. Most people would have stuck around, pining for a future that will never happen while deluding themselves that the present they are experiencing is much better than it really is. But you knew that you couldn't live a lie, so you did something about it."

Megan could smell the cologne Shawn was wearing and it made her feel better. God, this boy is a walking aphrodisiac, she thought to herself.

"Have you eaten anything yet?", Shawn asked, as he flashed his pearly whites at Megan.

"No, but I haven't been really hungry until I started crying. I don't know why but every time I cry, I get really, really hungry."

"Ok, so how I go leave a note for my friend with the bartender and then we'll head off to get some food?"

"Anything you want, Mr. Swimming Instructor."

For once, I would like to meet someone who hadn't heard about my previous acting jobs. Shawn blew Megan a kiss as he went off to talk with the barkeep.

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Now that Shawn was gone, Kyle sensed his opportunity. He made a beeline over to Megan and kissed her hand. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room and had to come over and introduce myself. I'm Kyle and you are?"

"Megan", she replied back. She took the moment to appraise the young man's looks. She had to admit the boy did look good, but in her opinion, she thought Shawn was cuter. Though she did take note of a certain family resemblance.

"So, Megan, how about you.... me... the town.... paint it red....."

She was amused by Kyle, and had she not already been invited by Shawn, she might have taken Kyle's. She fished through her purse until she found a business card. She held it out to Kyle, apologizing profusely for having to decline the date.

"But maybe you could give my friend, Amy Irish, a call. You know, the famous activist and journalist. She lives nearby and you seem just her type. Perhaps you guys could go out tonight or something..."

Kyle snatched the card from Megan's hand. "Yeah... yeah... maybe..", he mumbled as he rushed out of the bar in a hurry.


[[to be continued]]

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Hey there, luv!!!

Holla, Meggy!



OMG!!! Who, PJ? Who?????

And in case, my loyal fans haven't noticed, there's an update two posts up. I'm feeling underappreciated over here....

Hey guys,
Long time no see, I have been lurking, but not posting much. I just wanted to say PJ, I am enjoying the new series, how could I not, it has my all time favorite character in it. LOL. I was wondering though, what happened with the real love triangle? Hope all of you are doing well.
Sara

Can we all say it together, on three? One? Two? Three? Mmmm................Jordan!!!!!!

Now that we've all gotten him out of our systems, we can chat amongst ourselves. I am so glad everyone is loving the Shawn Ferrell Chronicles. I know Jordan isn't the star yet, but talented divos (in case you don't know a divo is a male diva) always have a way to make themselves known.

In regards to the Real Love Triangle, I haven't update there in a while for two reasons. Megan or other likewise devoted fans haven't recapped it in the 1,001 Things post, so I totally don't know what has gone on, and I've been stuck on how to proceed. That's kinda why I started TSFC as a way to restart the mojo without Megan's updates.

Shawn woke up and scratched his head. "What a weird dream", he said, sliding the covers back on his queen sized bed. "Kyle straight? Hitting on girls? Using cheesy pickup lines... Okay, well maybe that last one, that one was a bit trippy. Maybe I shouldn't eat so much pizza so close to bedtime."

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. "I left that show several years ago, so why do I still have dreams about it? It's like I'm cursed to be forever linked to that show." Shawn sighed. "Miss it something terrible, but I've moved on. Why can't my heart move on like my mind?"

He chomped on a few sundried tomatoes from the leftover pizza as he looked at the clock in the kitchen. "3:37 a.m. Damn! I've got to be at work at 6:00. No time to go back to sleep, but too early to do anything."

Shawn grumbled as he stubbed his toe on a stair leading into the living room and stumbled. He tried placing his hand over the inflamed toe to heal it, but nothing happened. He rolled his eyes as he remembered that he was on the set of the 4400 anymore. Shawn made his way over to the couch and grabbed the remote, hoping there was something on the television besides stale twenty year old movies, advertisement for cheesy pornos, or yet another episode of Jerry Springer. God, he hated that show with a passion.

And he was out like a light twelve minutes later.

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Kyle grew angrier and angrier with each step he took away from the Utopia. "How dare she turn me down! How dare she turn me down for Mr. I'm so perfect, my crap smells like roses and tastes like filet mignon Ferrell! How dare she feel bad about it and try to hook me up with some chick named Amy Irish. Who the frack is Amy Irish anyways?" he fumed under his breath.

He stopped momentarily to fish a ciggerrette out of his box of Malboros and placed it in his mouth. He lit the ciggerate and continued on, his hand still shaking despite the increasing flood of nicotene being directed towards his bloodstream. "I will get my revenge on you, Shawn. You can believe me on that."

You see, there was a lot of history between Kyle and Shawn. Kyle and Shawn loved each other dearly (platonically as cousins, of course---- I hope that's where your minds were at Megan.... Amerirish...) as long as they could remember. But that camping trip to Highland Beach changed everything.

Shawn was taken by the PFTF and given a powerful ability, one that were in the hands of a more selfish person might make them a god, while Kyle suffered in a coma for three long years. Then, Shawn comes back and becomes everyone's new golden boy, and Kyle was a virtual pariah and highjacked by the Future for some sick game of target practice with Jordan. Hell, Kyle could have even argued that Shawn highjacked his ability.

Even when Kyle did get a power, was it really a power? Kyle himself wasn't even sure. Cassie did give him insights into future events, but she rarely came when he needed her, and what if she was just another game by the lovely folks from the Future? It would be much easier if he had gotten something like pyrokinesis or teleportation. Kyle probably would have even settled for being able to turn pens into peonies.

And women....it was a never ending war between those two. Kyle would try his best moves on a girl, only to see them pant and coo over Shawn. Take Isabelle, for example. Shawn had his way with her and then passed her down to Kyle like a pair of secondhand trousers. Isabelle, for her part, said that she loved Kyle, but Kyle was never sure if she was really over Shawn. Oh, and the one time he did have a chance with a girl without Shawn cockblocking him... he blackouts and winds up in the neighbor's sprinklers naked.

Needless to say, one could understand Kyle's frustration.

Kyle walked along the street, silently cursing Shawn out when the wind picked up and blew one of Jordan's Wanted Posters right into Kyle's face. He was about to throw it away when something told him to look at it. He smiled.

There, in living color, was Shawn's mug shot and an announcement of a reward for information leading to the capture and imprisonment of Mr. Ferrell. Kyle knew exactly how he was going to get back at his beloved cousin, and make a few bucks in the process.

[[to be continued]]

OMG, so sorry I’ve been away from this thread for so long. PJ you are simply genius! And how cool is it of you to include little ol’ me in this work of art!! I am so touched! Amy Irish - roflmao!

Awwww, shucks; it weren't nuttin'...

"Hey now! Billy Zane is a great actor, I have you know!"

Love the chronicles, PJ.

Oh come on PJ..... Do you really think that is all that is on our minds all the time?? Okay I have to admit I was thinking that, but only because of the way you put it, or maybe because I have a problem, is there gay soap-opera rehab???

I know. Ain't I a stinker? ^^__^^

BUMPed for all the true believers...

I believe in it more than anything, except maybe The Gay 4400, that series had my heart first!