TITLE: "My Muses Are Sluts" or "Shrift Says ‘It’s All Coo’ ‘Cause She’s Done with Her Real Job Before She Heads Back to College, Meaning ‘Cool’ And Not The Sound A Baby Makes

AUTHOR: Shrift

SUMMARY: Ylang Ylang!

RATING: R? Language. Nudity. Mounties. Jedi Zhaan tricks. Bad Thai. Some Het innuendo. Uh...slash?

NOTES: Hey, Corde, all unwittingly (or maybe wittingly, after all, she said something about going to college and I *know* what *that* does to one’s mind) sorta encouraged me and I’m never one to back down from a challenge. Y’all are lucky there wasn’t a bong or a keg around for me to stand on prior to sending this. No, not really.

Hey, did somebody say, "Orgy?"

No?

Okay, then.

Oh, yeah. I so despise the D’Argo/Chiana pairing that I’m not even going to reference it after this. Oooh. Bad image. Bad image!

I’m sorry I had to do that to you.

And, "Goo!" MacLeod’s seducing yet another Babe of the Week, and it’s not Methos. I gotta stop watching the second season. Too bad I’m taping it for someone.

DISCLAIMER: I let my muses out once a day for Ramen noodles and a few sips of tap water from a cloudy Aquafina bottle. God, I’m evil.

ARCHIVE: Yeah. Like, you actually want it?

MY MUSES ARE SLUTS

By Shrift

"Oh, good Lord, Corde’s archiving us," Shrift says. She whips her computer chair around to survey the madness and cringes back at The Look on Zhaan’s face about two microns away.

"I believe, dear Shrift," Zhaan says, clasping her beringed hands at her midsection, "that you are due to finish another chapter of ‘Mangling the Space/Time Continuum’."

"Erm," Shrift says, restraining herself from saying, ‘What’s that got to do with the price of Captain Crunch in China?’ She cranes her neck around Zhaan and nods at the slick tangle of chocolate-smeared limbs next to her pile of Highlander tapes. "Looks like Meef is busy at the moment."

Ray lifts his face from its resting place on Methos’s shoulder blade to flash Shrift a slow-spreading, smug grin that makes her toes curl.

Zhaan’s arm shoots out and she wrenches Shrift forward, blue fist buried in Shrift’s LFN Con T-shirt. "I. Want. Him," Zhaan hisses, eyes shading over with a milk-white film. "I get Methos next."

"Fine," Shrift agrees sweetly, waitng until Zhaan releases her to say, "But you get to break the news to the Highlander. Watch out for Dunky and his pointy objects."

Zhaan shoots Shrift a glint-edged smile. "Where is Duncan?"

"Shower." Shrift frowns and starts nervously playing with her hair. "You wouldn’t."

"I would," Zhaan says. She walks out of the room. A door opens. The sound of a female voice, then, muffled by the shower, "*Kor thoad*?" Then,"*Krai kai kai kai.*" Then, finally, there is a yelp and a, "*bai hai pan!*"

Perplexed, Shrift says, "When the hell did Duncan go to Thailand? And what the hell did he say?" She looks around at her muses, slightly shifty-eyed, wondering if she guessed right and hoping if she didn’t that she wouldn’t get it pointed out to her for the next six months. And damn, now she's hungry for Thai food.

HappySlutBi!John pokes his rumpled head from underneath the covers of Shrift’s bed (which, seemingly, *she* never gets to use) and taps his forefinger against his temple. "The Magic Translator Microbes say..." John gets a cute, wrinkled up look on his face. "I’m confussed. (Yes, confussed.) Did he just say, ‘Who sells chicken eggs?’"

D’Argo’s blunt-fingered hand slips over HappySlutBi!John’s naked shoulder, and with a muffled, "Whoa, big guy!" D’Argo pulls him back into their cuccoon.

Shrift looks dubiously at the now-closed bathroom door. "I guess that takes care of that..."

"Did I hear that Corde is archiving us?" Methos asks, stretching his lean body. He props his chin in his palm and peers up at Shrift from the floor. "D’you think that’s...wise?"

"What do *you* think, Mr.-I’m-Older-Than-Indoor-Plumbing-But-Not-Quite-As-Old-As-Dirt?" StraightSouthern!John says from the doorway. He’s carefully not looking at anyone.

"Can I kick him in the head?" Ray beseeches.

"No," Shrift says. "I’ll need him in case my Aeryn muse ever unthaws and discovers the sexual revolution."

"Language, Ray," comes a voice from behind StraightSouthern!John. John moves aside and everyone with their eyes open is momentarily blinded by the sheer brightness of...red. "Oh, dear," Fraser breathes, taking in the long, golden-hued expanse of Ray’s body.

Ray’s eyes travel up from granny boots to jodhpurs to tunic to Sam Browne to lanyard to stetson. "Mmmyeah. Mountie’s here."

"You might want to put an end to this," Methos says, untangling himself from Ray. Methos gets up and walks toward Shrift; behind him, a messy, nude Ray pounces on the Mountie. Meanwhile, StraightSouthern!John once again flees from the carnage to watch the Fox Family channel on the satellite feed, whimpering and rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth. And definitely avoiding Shrift's Curt Wild muse, who has a disconcerting tendency to drop his leather pants and...writhe.

Shrift pinches that one spot on the bridge of her nose. "Why?"

Methos gives Shrift a couple of heavier-than-normal pats on the head. "Because you have a hangover."

"Owww," Shrift moans. "Don’t remind me that I mixed Heineken and Maker’s Mark."

"Besides, you’ve got another John muse wandering around here smacking his head against walls," Methos says peering at the muse in particular who, right now, is looking like Shrift’s guppies are telling him to take the pills take the pills take all the pills.

"Oh, that’s John Oxenberger," Shrift says. She grins toothily. "He doesn’t belong with the other Johns."

A nasty, sucking, horking, vomit sound starts coming from the hallway and Shrift pales to an unattractive shade of ‘Oh-God-I’m-Gonna-Puke’. "Oh, shit, the cat," she manages to mutter around her clenched teeth. She jumps up and races for the bathroom, tipping her chair over in the process. It lands on Chiana.

Oddly enough, Chiana has been bound, gagged, tied, handcuffed and duct-taped...and is now unconscious.

The End
Really.
‘Cause Shrift has to go clean up cat barf.

And she doesn’t *really* hate Chiana. She just doesn’t want her riding D’Argo. That’s John’s job.