The Mattress

The Mattress - Resprung

The refectory was quite full. It was always the same at this time of the evening. Most of the day shift had finished their schedules and had returned, tired and ravenous, while the night shift, now that the automatic curtains had shut out the last of the sunlight, had emerged and were collecting their lists and having their largely liquid breakfasts.

Remus had been waiting at the table closest to the portals for over an hour and was beginning to get worried.

"Surely he can't be much longer?" Harry said, nursing his mug of coffee.

"I dunno," Remus sighed. "When it happened to me, I was off colour for a week."

"I remember," Draco looked up from his hand of cards. "You looked appalling. Twist," Ron gave him a card, "twist," Ron gave him another one. "Bugger."

"The correct term is 'bust'," Ron informed him, grinning as he raked in his winnings.

"Oh, whatever," Draco tossed the cards down and leaned back, draping one forearm in it's spiked wristlets across the back of the chair and scratching the varnish. Since embracing Gothdom with both arms, his attire had gone to ever new extremes. The "Draco in leather trousers" brigade didn't know the half of it. Remus eyed him with affectionate amusement. To be honest the black hair and eyeliner rather suited him, as well as making life very difficult for the make-up department. Ron and Harry, too, had grown up fast. Too fast , it might be thought, but that was no wonder bearing in mind the way they were spending most of their time.

"Look," Harry set his mug down beside his book and nodded towards the portals where a light had just turned green. "That might be Sirius now."

Severus stepped into the refectory with a contented air. He had had a hard day but, on the whole, was quite pleased with how things had gone. In particular his last but one task of the day had been - satisfying. He permitted himself a small, bleak smile then sighed as he was hailed.

"Severus." Remus was looking worried and the Potter boy, at his heels, looked even worse.

"What?" Severus demanded, setting his bag down beside his immaculately polished boots.

"When did you finish work?" Remus demanded. "Because Sirius isn't back yet."

"And you had another gig after his," Harry added. Harry had long ago abandoned his scruffy teen look for something much more stylish and, today, was sporting a cashmere sweater and turquoise contacts.

Severus met the accusing stare without difficulty. "No need to worry. He's right behind me," he informed them, adding, as the warning bell sounded, "though you might want to arrange for a stretcher."

Elrond, who hadn't long come off his own shift, shouted across the refectory to the nightwatchman as the light above the portal began to flash urgently. The ancient vampire had difficulty forcing his way through the press as those present crowded round, always eager to witness anyone in extremis. Barnabas Collins, a star in his day but about whom no fiction had been written since the early 70s, hovered around the edges of the crowd and tapped shoulders to no avail. Fledglings these days had no sense of respect. His problem was solved when the rising hubbub attracted the attention of Captain Carrot, Elrond's lieutenant.

"Excuse me, gentleman," he said respectfully, hands like hams gently parting the crowd and they stood aside for him, good naturedly - nobody objected to Carrot telling them what to do because he did it so politely. Besides, once, he had been goaded into losing his self-control and Reepicheep's rapier was still stuck in the ceiling. Collins dodged in behind him and dragged the stretcher across to the portal.

The opening blurred and a bag hurtled into the room, causing several of those watching to skip hurriedly aside. Then Sirius Black toppled bonelessly after it and collapsed onto the floor where he immediately curled into a foetal position. "Whoa, what happened to him?" Spike demanded.

Remus had dropped to his knees beside Sirius' head and was too busy checking for vital signs to answer while Severus stood by watching with quiet enjoyment.

"Tortured to within an inch of his life, I bet," Angel replied.

"Sounds like a party to me," Spike grinned. "But torture alone wouldn't do that to him. Look, he's waking up."

Sirius moaned piteously and Harry stooped over him patting his shoulder rather helplessly.

"Torture," Angel said again, shaking his head sadly.

"No," Spike disagreed gently, placing a mug in his colleague's hands. "Angel, stick with what you know. Thinking isn't what you're best at, being dark and brooding is. So dark and brood your way over to the counter and get me a top up. That has begun to clot." Angel wandered off, followed by Dracula and several of his Brides who had lost interest when no blood was to be seen.

Severus watched them go sourly. You couldn't fault them for style but immortality obviously wasn't IQ linked. Then a happy thought occurred to him and he looked around.

"Is there a Doctor in the house?" he shouted.

"Severus!" Remus snarled before he was bowled over in the rush.

Chaos reigned in a swirl of frock coats, cravats and elastic sided boots as they jockeyed for advantage until the 4^th Doctor, using his height and reach, beat the others off with his hat. He in turn was ousted, mercifully before he could find a suitable orifice for his sonic screwdriver, by the wickedly sharp elbows of the ancient Doctor McCoy. He and Doctor Watson conferred for a moment and consulted Peter Blood who offered a choice between bleeding and purging. Severus met Remus' accusing glare with a smirk.

"Just getting my own back for that little incident last summer," he told him, then the smirk broadened into a grin.

"No," Remus protested, turning back to the assorted medics, "Dr McCoy, he certainly doesn't need an enema. Good grief, man, you're obsessed."

Man of action that he was, Harry led Ron and Draco in a spearhead attack, driving through the wildly gesticulating doctors in an attempt to rescue his supine godfather. The assorted doctors were not happy to be deprived of their entertainment and things began to turn nasty. Ron got a sharp smack round the ear from Dr Watson's tongue depressor. Draco got the 6^th Doctor, the wussy blond one who didn't last long, in a headlock. Harry stole the scarf and used it to lash Doctors three through five to an ornamental aspidistra stand. At that point the calm bulk of Captain Carrot intervened, ushering the antagonists aside with a gentle but irresistible sweep of his arms to clear a little space. Remus darted into it and heaved a sigh of relief to see Dr Bashir calmly taking Sirius pulse.

"He's in shock," Bashir said, "and no wonder. You know the drill, Remus. Keep him warm and try to get some hot sweet tea into him. There's no point in asking him to take it easy for a few days - fan fiction is a harsh mistress. I only wish...," then he shrugged and stood up. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "We've all been there." Then he returned to the Star Fleet area where all the various generations not currently holding down Lt. Worf were cheering McCoy, who had just dropped the frail first Doctor with a vicious swipe of his tricorder.

As the combatants were separated, given a very gentle telling off and sent on their way, Remus knelt beside Sirius again and tried to uncurl him. Spike, who had been hovering around the edges of the scrum, dying to get involved but still suffering from his chipped state, dropped to his heels in a crackle of black leather and grinned at Remus.

"What happened to him, then?" he demanded. "Go on, tell me."

Before Remus could answer Sirius' eyes opened blearily. He lay still for a moment then flung himself over onto his back with a yell. His right hand ripped his t-shirt up from the waist, exposing belly and pectorals while the left forced its way under his waistband and down, searching frantically. His back arched as he stared, panting in panic, down at his well honed and undeniably masculine torso then he found what he sought, his hand tightened convulsively and he flopped back down with a bleat of miserable relief.

"Bela Lugosi," Spike swore," not a sex change fic!"

Remus glared at him and helped Carrot and Harry transfer his whimpering friend onto the stretcher. "Yes," he said tersely. "Sex change, pregnancy and childbirth in a one shot. Sirius, it's all right. See...all present and correct. You can let go of it now."

"Poor bastard," Spike said with glee. "Hey, though. How'd he get the black eye?"

"Black eye?" Harry leaned in and pushed Sirius' hair back from his face. Indeed, he had the beginnings of an impressive mouse forming around his left eye.

"Oh," Remus sounded pleased. "I think I need to talk it over with Sirius first. Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow. Would someone give us a hand here?"

There was the inevitable scatter as people realised that they had better things to do but some did remain to help. Ron quickly assembled the makings of a meal on a tray, to take up in case Sirius came round long enough to eat (Ron was well used to this since Fred and George had taken to their beds in utter embarrassment at the preponderance of Weasleycest and would have starved if the rest of the family hadn't taken it upon themselves to ensure that they were fed). Remus and Harry, following him upstairs with the head end of the stretcher, grinned at each other as they listened to the conversation at the foot end.

"Of course, after it happened to me," Spike was saying, "I didn't let go of my nads for a month."

"So that was why," Legolas commented, mildly. "We did all wonder. Now the most distressing thing for me was the mood swings - oh, and the stretch marks. And the morning sickness. The swollen ankles were a bugger too."

"Ah, but did you get varicose veins as well?"

"Tell me about it! Like bunches of grapes."

"And constipation!"

"Will you two stop wittering on about it," astonishingly Severus was following carrying Sirius' bag as well as his own. "You're like a pair of old women." And he pushed past and strode ahead with the utter lack of sympathy of one whose numerous pregnancies had been largely trouble free.

Spike scowled and Legolas sighed. "Bitch," the elf said quietly.

***

Next morning, Sirius was subdued but otherwise fairly cheerful. Frightful though the experience had been, something else had happened that was far more important, and he was able to move around quite normally, only occasionally grabbing his essentials for reassurance. Consequently, he and Remus, having discussed the matter, rose early, commandeered a table and invited various people to join them at breakfast. Well aware they wouldn't get a proper hearing until everybody was fed, they also commandeered large amounts of food. Gradually the table filled with their colleagues for the HP universe plus some from other genres. Miles Vorkosigan set himself at the foot of the table quite deliberately, earning an appreciative grin from Sirius, who was still a little riled at the way Severus had calmly taken the chair at the head, then they settled to eat and observe the morning rituals. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Remus glanced up from his cornflakes and nudged Sirius. He looked up at the impressive, black-clad figure descending the stairs and hissed a warning to Harry who grinned and nudged Draco who waved a croissant at Aragorn, who very gently tapped Legolas wrist (since his startled squeals had proven to be bad for everybody's digestions) and he poked Miles Vorkosigan in the ribs, who caught Sam Vimes' eye and pointed. Gradually silence fell and they waited as the black clad man reached the ground floor and strode towards the breakfast bar.

There was a crash.

Harry whooped and high-fived Sirius while almost every man in the room lifted his voice in a delighted chorus of "Take them off!"

Neo, cheeks pink, grinned sheepishly and rubbed a thigh bruised against the corner of a table for the third time that week. Then he reached up and removed his Raybans, placing them safely in the pocket of his enormous coat.

"Sheer affectation," Severus sneered. "Pass the marmalade."

Breakfast proceeded as normal (other than that nobody would accept anything Sirius passed them, put off by the feeling that his hand might have recently been in his pants) until everybody was pleasantly full and had settled back with fresh pots of tea and coffee - or a pint of Bearhugger's in the case of Sam Vimes, who had fallen off the wagon quite catastrophically after one particular fic. It could have been worse - Detritus was still on light duties.

"Right," Severus automatically called the meeting to order. "I expect you are wondering what all this is about. Well, frankly so am I, and it had better be good. Remus, perhaps you'd care to explain. Not you, Black, you'd take too long."

Sirius scowled but urged Remus to his feet.

"Gentlemen," Remus began, "perhaps some of you are aware that yesterday Sirius came up with a quite startling theory. He surmised that, in actual fact, none of us are real. That we are all imaginary, despite all evidence to the contrary, and that, in that case, if our actions can be controlled by the imaginations of others then surely our own imaginations are just as valid. If this is true I don't think I need to spell out to you what this could mean for us."

Severus' "No, get on with it," clashed with Miles', "Oh, please do."

Remus, in full professor mode, nodded an acknowledgement to Miles and proceeded. "If our imaginations are as valid as those of the - ahem - authors, then we should be able to control our own actions. We should - in short - be able to have a say in how the stories turn out." A stunned silence was followed by a buzz of interest. "Naturally such a premise has to be tested thoroughly," Remus continued, "and in the few minutes we had to discuss it before leaving for work yesterday morning, Sirius and I decided to try it out during two very similar stories. Um..." he lowered his eyes and flushed, "we call these - er - "Getting Laid at Lupin's". I'm sure some of you have similar recurrent scenarios in your own universes."

"Shit, yes. 'Bathtime with Boromir'," Legolas grumbled.

"Me too," Sam Vimes confirmed, " I call it "Orders from the Patrician"."

"I don't call it anything," Miles growled, "but it's all to do with me being short."

"I get that, too," chorused four glum hobbits and a dwarf whose name was Gimli but, from his expression, could equally well have been Grumpy.

"Detention," Severus snapped. "And that's what you'll be on if you make us all late. For pity's sake, Remus, what happened?"

"My suggestion was that - however the author intended to - um - arrange us - I should always - um - take the dominant position - throughout the whole of both fics." There was another buzz, this time of admiration from men who were well aware of the effort that would entail.

"Just as well it wasn't the other way round," Severus muttered and they had to waste a few moments persuading Sirius (who was currently a little sensitive to slurs on his manhood) back into his seat.

"Gentleman, it is with great pleasure," Remus announced, "that I can tell you that we enjoyed at least a partial success. The first fic went exactly as planned, despite protests from the author - and, towards the end, from Sirius who was, frankly, getting a bit of a battering. However we decided to continue during the second fic just to make sure that the first time hadn't been a fluke. And that, gentlemen, was when it got really interesting. The second author was perhaps more experienced, perhaps of stronger will. The plot, such as it was, kept twisting and turning, determined to follow the author's intention. Eventually, just as I was about to give up, Sirius pinched me, hard, and I punched him, as you can see, in the eye. The pain concentrated our minds wonderfully and we were able to reduce the rating from an NC-17 to a mild R..rated for violence and bad language rather than for - er - sex."

"A mild R," Legolas murmured, "a mild R!" then dropped his face into his hands, shoulders heaving as he was overcome with nostalgic emotion. Miles sighed and patted his back.

"A mild R," he repeated. "And what do you suppose the author thought about that?"

"That was the interesting part," Sirius interrupted. "The first one hardly struggled at all but the second, after fighting tooth and nail for a short time, settled down and appeared to think it was all her own idea."

"You mean that our imaginations can affect the authors?" Severus demanded.

"Absolutely," Remus said with a grin. "Gentlemen, this means that, with a lot of effort - I don't want anyone to think that this is going to be easy - we can make them write the fics we want to be in."

"Bugger that," Severus snarled. "I see an entirely different scenario and I think I'm going to call it 'Payback Time'."