Having just ended things with my bf  on a bad note, a T/S challenge
seemed badly timed.  But who knew it'd actually be kind of fun. Though,
this is what you get for it.  You can thank Mary and Tiff *wink wink*
	This is officially, my answer to the T/S Challenge issude to me by Mary
and Tiff.

	As for cannon, I don't follow it much. In my world Vachon died in late
December and Screed didn't at all. So keep them undies out of a bunch. ;)

	DISCLAIMERS : I don't own 'em, big rich people with armies of lawyers
do. I'm just taking them out for some non-copyright infringing fun.  It's
all good.

	Pillow Guts (01/01)
		by Cousin Renali

	The long sidewalk that lead back to her place seemed a lot longer than
usual, and in her mopey mood she didn't feel like walking it.  Staring
down at the iced cappuccino that had used it's siren's song to call her
out of her nice warm bed and  down the long sidewalk to the Buckstar's on
the corner, she wished she'd just have bought some at the grocery store
last . . . . whenever it was she'd last gone grocery shopping.

	She didn't remember when that Buckstar's had opened, but there it was.
Like a good friend, caffeine was always there.  Smiling at herself, she
sipped her elixir and  stopped at the window of the pet store. 

	There were the normal bins of garden variety puppies and kittens, all
falling over each other for those prime spots in the window where people
stood cooing at them.   Feeling nostalgic for Sparky, she went inside.

	Snakes,  various sorts of lizards,  fish,  small rodents.  All sorts of
animals.  But it was the bird section that caught her eye.  She didn't
know the names of most of them, but she did enjoy their colorful plumage
and musical voices. At the end of the long and noisy row was a large gold
cage housing several beautiful and incredibly rambunctious canaries. 

	The sign, in red sparkling paint proclaiming,  "Tell Your Fortune, $5".

	She stared at the canaries for a second before lifting her head to look
at the old man behind the counter.  "Do you tell fortunes or do they?"

	"They do, Miss."

	"The canaries tell fortunes?"

	"Yes."

	"Do they come true?"

	"I swear by it."

	Intrigued and feeling like she didn't mind being duped out of five
bucks, she handed it over to the old man.  "Show me."

	He reached under the counter and pulled out a box of  magnetic poetry,
shaking it at her.  "What's your name, Miss?"

	"Tracy."

	"All right, Tracy. It works a bit like a Ouija (tm) board.  Ask my birds
a question and they can peck out the answer."

	Unable to contain it anymore, Tracy laughed.  "All right."

	"Just pick your bird."

	Tracy moved back over to the  cage to stare the hyperactive crowd.  Deep
in the back was one wizened, plump old bird swinging on a perch.  "That
one."

	"Ahhh. You've got luck, Miss. That's Edward."

	"Edward? Strange name for a bird."

	"He's named after Edward Casey."

	Tracy nodded.  Oh good.  That famed prophet who died penniless because
he couldn't predict with any sort of accuracy where to strike oil.  A
prophet who didn't get a single prophecy right. Oh, good.

	The old man set Edward down on the counter and spilled the letters out
in front of him. "Now, what would you like to know?" Now, at the final
gate, Tracy had no idea what to ask.  When the old man noticed her
faltering he said. "How about true love? Would you like to know about
your true love?"

	Before she could say anything, the old man bent down to Edward.  "Now,
Edward, the young lady here would like to know something about her true
love. Can you tell her?"

	Edward flapped about for a minute, making  a few fruitless trips around
the mess of magnetic letters.  Then he jumped soundly on the 'R'. 
Pausing, he turned and landed on the 'A'. Then, an about-face took him to
the 'T', and he came to rest on the 'S'.

	Tracy stared.  R. A. T. S.  She laughed. "Well that sounds about right.
I've never met a gem."

	The old man looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Miss. He's a little cheeky
today."

	Tracy waved him off.  "Don't worry about it. It was fun.  Thank you,
Edward." She said shaking a wing.  Edward flapped and sat back down.

	Outside again, Tracy made a vow to become a nun.

	She didn't feel the rest of her trek to her apartment, because Edward's
prophecy was weighing on her mind.  Stupid. Incredibly stupid, but . . .
. 

	Screed stood on the front steps, yelling his brains out to her
window."TRRRAAAAACCCYYY!!! Where are ya ? TRRRAAAAAAAAAACYYYYYY!"

	 She laughed.  "Screed."

	He looked at her, as if confused for a second why she would be down on
the street next to him and not hanging out her window like she should be.
 "Eh, there girlie. Oi was just cummin' round to see wot yer up tew."

	Tracy nodded, shaking her near empty iced cappuccino at him.  "You know
I can't resist a good caffeine jolt."

	"Oi should think ya'd be im-mune now."

	She shrugged. "Maybe I am. Do you want to come inside?"

	"Sure.  Oi've got a movie tha' I's want  yew to watch."

	"Really? Well, come on up. Let's make a nice veggie night of it, eh? We
haven't done that in a few days." He followed her up the steps and into
the elevator.  She was laughing to herself.  "You're never going to guess
what I just did.  You know that little pet shop down the street? I just
had my fortune told by a canary?"

	"A canary?"

	"Yes. I'm afraid he didn't do to well, but it was . . . interesting."

	Screed was laughing.  Tracy looked at him.  Screed laughed harder. She
realized then that he was laughing at her, not with her.  She stared.

	"Are you laughing at me?"

	"No, birdy! No. Woi would I do tha'?"

	The door was opening to let some people on when Tracy backhanded
Screed's arm with a resounding 'SMACK'.  She wasn't ready for his howl of
pain. 

	"OOWWWWW!" He grabbed his arm and fell to the far side of the elevator
as the two elderly bingo goers opted for the next elevator ride.  "Geez,
devotchka! Easy it up!"

	"I'm sorry.  Are you hurt or something? Shouldn't you go and see
Natalie?"

	"No no no. Oi's roight as rain.  Just bought me ta-day an inking."

	"A tattoo?  Can I see it?"

	"Nope."

	She was going to protest, but the doors opened to her floor and he flew
out of the elevator faster than she could see.  Following she shouted
after him, "What movie did you bring?"

	"RIO BRAVO?"  He yelled back from inside her apartment.  Oh that's just
great.  Now she'd have to buy a new lock, and door knob. Thank you,
Screed.

	"The door was locked, you know. "  She said coming in and throwing her
jacket on the floor near the closet.  She was in a weird mood today.  She
felt like either dancing naked in  the rain or  playing miniature golf.
Or course it was winter, so neither of those would be possible.  "Well
put the movie in, I'm here"
	
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	As  the last of the credits rolled Tracy sighed happily.  "I love
westerns with happy endings.  This one is my favorite. How'd you know?"

	"Yew've told me befo'."

	"Have I? Hmm." They were settled on the couch, much like they were at
least once a week, slouched back with their heads together.  He was
always like a good solid rock. Like a dependable dog or something.  Tracy
smiled, guiltily.  "How did you know this is exactly what I needed
today?"

	He shrugged. "Well, it's been one full turn round since tha' ol' V-man
went under, an' Oi was feelin' a malenky lonely my-self.  Oi thought that
yew could be usin' some comp'ny as well."

	Tracy nodded sadly.  "Yeah.   You were right." She sighed.  Was it a
full moon?  Things were so . . . surreal today.  "It's been just over a
year hasn't it.  I'd almost forgotten.  Wow. A year since he died and a
few failed relationships I should have stayed away from and here I am. 
Alone and melancholy so close to New Year's."

	Screed looked down at her.  "Not a-lone, Tracy.  Not a-lone."

	Tracy didn't realize before then how tired she was.  She drifted off to
sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	Then next morning just before dawn, Tracy stretched loudly on the couch
and rolled off it, hitting the floor with a nice 'thud'.

	" . . . .ow. . . "

	God what a perfect way to start the day. A nice big welt on her butt and
 the feeling that it was exactly what fate had in store for her. 
Grumbling, she stumbled and tripped her way to her coffee machine. Like a
good friend, caffeine was always there.  

	It was then that something strange caught her eye out of her kitchen
window.  Her new convertible was parked on the street, the top down  . .
. . filled with something.  Something white.  That darn well better not
be snow. Angrily wrapping herself in her ugliest terry cloth robe she
stalked to the elevator with bed hair, cotton mouth and in her fuzzy pink
bunny slippers.

	Outside, Screed was lounging on the passenger side door, looking like
the cat who'd gotten the cream.  Tracy started at him.  "The fates have
it in for me don't they?  WHAT is this?"

	Screed stepped gracefully to one side,  gestured grandly to the car, and
in a dead-on impression of a matre 'd said. "Please, madam. Get in."

	She stepped closer to the car and before she could see what was filling
her car to the tops of the door, Screed lifted her off her feet and
dropped her inside.  

	Feathers.

	White, fluffy goose down feathers.

	Screed plopped himself down next to her.

	And then Tracy began to laugh.  

	Laugh hysterically.  Soon, her sides were burning and she was gasping
for air, but it was laughter that wouldn't be denied.  Screed just sat
next to her, up to his chest in goose down, smiling brazenly. "Oi's
figgered tha' yew'd had just about e-nough of birds for yesterday. And, 
well, Oi couldn' roightly pluck out all tha' lil feathers on that
future-seeing bird, could Oi? So, Oi did the next best thing, Oi did. 
Emptied tha' old militry man's pillows."

	Tracy doubled over, laughing so hard no sound or breath was coming out. 
She buried her face in the feathers, feeling relief from the blues for
the first time in who knew how long.  When she lifted her head, she
looked at him.  He was still smiling,  all gleaming white teeth.

	"Thank you. It's just what I needed."

	"Tha's wot Oi'm 'ere fer."

	She stared at him for a moment, her laughter for a moment subsiding. 
All gleaming white teeth . . . sneaky . . . sneak like a  "RATS!" She
yelled suddenly.

	Screed's jaw seemed to drop for a minute before her recovered himself.
"Come again?"

	Tracy was bouncing up and down in the car, causing feathers to fly up
and be caught in the wind. Soon, her bouncing caused a mini-blizzard of
white that wasn't snow. "RATS RATS RATS!"

	Screed, stared then slowly a smile spread across his face.  "Ya wont ta
see me inking now, birdy?"

	Tracy stared at him.  What weird timing for that question.  " . . . um,
yeah."

	He  rolled up his sleeve to show her.  It was still pretty fresh
looking. Not fading yet  as it most assuredly would.  But she stared at
it, taking several moments before it sank in.

	It was a callalily.

	She met his gaze, feeling giddy.  

	"Oi've talked to Ed-Ward before tew."

	Tracy felt the laughter coming on again.


	the end.

	A Canary, a tattoo and goose down feathers. It's all there, right?


Reprimands, truffles, Coke (tm) and undying declarations of praise my be
sent to : 

Bush1996@oak.ait.fredonia.edu