Note: Hey, thanks for all the positive support! Both this fic and my Midnighters one-shot have been feeling the love lately. If you feel so inclined to review, it's always much appreciated on my part. Thanks for reading!
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December 18, 8:23 AM
Dess hated working. She hated getting up early. She hated being in the presence of Marty. Today was not proving to be a very happy day. In fact, the whole week had been turning out rather poorly. The bitch goddess had returned with the nerd lord, although Melissa had seemed quite less bitchy. She had gotten stuck as Midnight Convention Advertisement Chairwoman. This unprestigious title required her to stand on ladder and call people she didn't know – two of her least favorite things. And, on top of all this, Marty was her co-chair. Needless to say, Dess had been contemplating joining a convent that forbade any visitors of any kind.
"Move it a little higher! It's not level! You're not forming a 90 degree angle!" Marty yelled. Fortunately for Dess, he was a good 50 feet away. Unfortunately for Dess, he was not ever happy with the exact position she placed the "1st Annual Midnighters Convention" sign on the front of the Midnight Motel. She sighed and, without heeding Marty's advice, simply drove a nail into the building. She honestly didn't care if it was a few centimeters uneven on one side.
Marty's wail of disapproval resounded across town.
"Dess!" he whined, running as fast as his twiggy legs could carry him. By the time he reached the hotel, Dess was already folding up the ladder.
"It's uneven! Why didn't you use my calculation?" he cried, thrusting a marked up piece of binder paper in her face.
"Becausesome things don't require calculations, Marty!" She turned sharply, carrying the ladder around to the other side of the building. There was only one of the signs left and Dess hoped to tack it down with no further complaints from Marty.
While ascending the ladder, Dess realized that dream was too much to ask for.
"But Dess!" he whined, shaking the ladder angrily.
"Everything in life can use calculation! Life would be so much more organized, so much easier!" he griped as Dess flailed around, fighting for balance.
"Hey watch it there!" she yelled, grabbing onto the roof ledge to maintain footing. In Marty's fervent demand for calculations, he had shimmied the ladder so far over to the left that Dess's feet could no longer touched the top step.
"MARTY!" she screamed, kicking her feet violently, as if her kicks could fly through the air and hit Marty in the gut. But she would inflict damage soon enough for the female polymath felt her fingers loosen their grip on the roof.
With an uncalculated, unplanned, and unwanted swoosh, Dess sailed gracefully to the ground, landing face first on top of a certain arrogant genius below her.
"You will feel the wrath of Alternatively Morphological Pigmentations," she whispered, barely able to breath after having the wind swiftly knocked out of her.
"I will what?" he murmured, unaware that Alternatively Morphological Pigmentations was one of Dess's newest creations.
Dess groaned painfully, gazing down at the scholarly pile of body parts below her. She cocked her head, examining the figure below her.
"You know, you don't look so bad from this angle," she candidly admitted, brushing a lock of hair behind her right ear.
Marty groaned underneath her, wheezing for air. "I'm in excruciating pain…," he whined as Dess began to laugh and rolled off of him. She continued to laugh, harder than she'd laughed in a long time.
"What's so funny?" Marty croaked, attempting to struggle to his feet. He gave up, however, and collapsed back onto the cold cement.
Dess didn't say anything. It was better to keep Marty in agonizing wait. She continued laughing, almost howling with glee at the hilarity of their situation.
"I said, 'What's so funny?'" Marty demanded a response this time, but Dess decided that there was no way she was going to elicit a response.
In fact, she was laughing for a very ridiculous reason. Dess was humorously pondering that fact that maybe, just maybe, she was growing to like Marty.
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December 18, 9:12 AM
"So, is this an OK interview spot?" Jonathan asked Tricia, opening the door to a vacant room in the hotel. It was an average room, to be sure, but the 3rd story room offered a luxurious view of downtown Bixby.
"OK? This is great!" Tricia ran to the window peering out to the sleepy small town below. Almost directly below her, Dess and Marty could be seen sitting on a bench, presumably discussing numbers. A few people mulled the streets; a few shops advertised various sales; a restaurant or two ushered in those hungry for breakfast.
"This is exactly what I pictured Bixby would be like: a sleepy little town with a wonderful secret; a nice, quaint town with welcoming people." She turned to face Jonathan who had taken a seat on a couch.
"It's more wonderful than I ever could have imagined… so much friendlier than Oklahoma City. Big cities are so… cold and hostile. I just love Bixby." She took a seat in a chair across from Jonathan, pulling out a notepad from the briefcase she had been carrying.
"So, when did you realize you were a Midnighter?" Tricia asked, jumping right into her interview. She had come to Bixby to do all inclusive complete coverage of the 1st Annual Midnighter Convention. She had arrived three weeks early however, to interview various Midnighters and do a full story on Bixby itself.
Ever since the expansion of the blue time, Midnighters had become a fascination of the general populace. Some regarded them as heroes, others as freaks. Some thought of them mutants, some even regarded them as angels saving the world from the devil's darklings.
But no matter how they were viewed, it was undeniable that they were a hot topic – even four years after the spread of the blue time. No one knew their history or their secrets for the 'Senior Midnighters' refused to talk about anything. Tricia was hoping to break their barrier of silence. She hoped that by being a Midnighter herself, she could get the real scoop. Not only to better understand herself, but also to make a fortune by selling the information to every paper, magazine, website, and TV station that would buy it. Exploiting the Midnighter craze could be the best thing for her career. And to start it off, she realized, exploiting Jonathan could be the quickest way to dig up all the secret Midnighter dirt.
"Jonathan?" Tricia questioned, trying to bring Jonathan out of his zombie like stare.
"Oh! Right, sorry." Jonathan cursed himself inwardly, hoping Tricia hadn't realized he had been staring at her.
"I guess I always knew there was something different about me. Well, you know, the excessive eating, the flexibility, and the desire to just… burn a lot of energy. I didn't know I was an actual Midnighter until a few days after I moved to Bixby. I was sneaking out when all of a sudden everything just froze. It was incredible and frightening at the same time." Jonathan stopped before he got caught up in memories. One of them would eventually lead him back to Jess and she was the most distracting thing he could think about during an interview.
"And what would you say is your favorite part about being a Midnighter?" the phrase, 'Seeing Jess,' nearly tumbled out of his mouth, but Jonathan caught himself just in time. Years ago, months ago even, that would have the definite answer. No questions asked. But lately her presence seemed almost juvenile. Her constant visibility during the blue time seemed to be only a hindrance to him now.
Jonathan was first and foremost a loner. Jess knew this but as of late she had been even clingier than usual. She was a weight around his legs that kept him from flying where he wanted to. He was starting to wonder if where he wanted to be was with Tricia.
"Well, I would have to say the excitement and beauty of it. Midnight is the only time I can use my acrobat powers, skills I would love to have in the daytime. And the blue time is so beautiful. Everything is still, frozen, and perfect. It's exhilarating." Tricia smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. However, blue time was even handier for her. She used the secret hour to sneak into other newspaper firms and steal headlines, stories, and sometimes even entire articles.
"The Midnighters have been keeping their knowledge a secret thus far. What's your opinion on the matter?" Jonathan thought back, remembering Rex's conversation with them all before they set off to comb the country for Midnighters.
"The Lore is to be protected first and foremost. Tell no one our history or secrets. The time will come when Midnighters will learn of their past, but for now, for our own protection, just help the new Midnighters understand their power." It had made sense to Jonathan at the time. They could be taken advantage of, or the information could be put to use for something nefarious. However, Jonathan saw no real danger in it now. Almost everyone knew what a Midnighter was. And with the convention approaching, soon every one who attended would know the truth about the secret hour, darklings, and the lore.
'And besides,' Jonathan thought, 'Tricia is a nice enough woman. She wouldn't publish any information that would harm the Midnighters. Hell, she's one of us!'
"I think our vow of silence is… unnecessary. In fact, let me be the first to break it." Tricia smiled. Jonathan Martinez was putty in her hands.
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December 18, 11:46 PM
Rex and Melissa were curled on the couch, watching the 11 o'clock news. There was nothing very interesting going on, really. There was a mention of the upcoming Midnighters Convention, an update on the conviction of kleptomaniac, news about a Christmas parade somewhere east of Bixby, and the local weather report. Both Midnighters found themselves almost drifting off into sleep.
However, they had planned to go out in the blue time. It was thundering outside, and if it continued, they were going to go out in search of a lightening bolt. Just like old times.
"Hey, I'm going to get some coffee," Rex said, squirming underneath Melissa. She sat up, allowing him to get off the couch.
"You want some?" he asked, padding his way into the adjoining kitchen.
"Oh, no thanks. You know I don't consume caffeine," she said, readjusting herself on the Rexless couch.
"When did this start?" Rex asked, trying to hard to remember a time when Melissa had ever turned down coffee or caffeinated soda.
"Uh, back in 7th grade… remember when they showed us that creepy video about the negative effects of caffeine?" Melissa sat up once more, this time to track Rex's movements in the kitchen.
"But I distinctly remember that one time freshman year when you and Dess drank so much coffee that you actually started dancing to modern music," Rex countered, pulling coffee creamer from the refrigerator.
"What?! You and I both know that would never happen!" Melissa exclaimed, getting slightly upset that Rex would accuse her of such a heinous crime.
"Oh no, my memories don't lie Melissa. I'm a seer. I remember these things perfectly, you know," Rex said with a smile, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Melissa was not amused. "I'm telling you!" she wailed, getting visibly upset, "I haven't had a sip of caffeine since 7th grade!" she got off the couch and stormed over to Rex, who was now pouring the creamer into his cup of steaming java.
"I know you're lying," she said confidently, pursing her lips. "Oh?" Rex responded, turning to face her. She pulled his chin down to meet her, kissing him without restraining her mindcaster abilities. Hundreds of emotions overtook Rex, but he could distinctly feel that Melissa was probing to see if he did in fact remember that specific occasion.
After a few moments of passionate kissing, Melissa broke free, a satisfied and uncharacteristic smile on her face. Rex was shocked at how four years could change a person.
"You little liar!" she exclaimed, storming off to return to the couch.
"I swear I remember it happening!" Rex said, trying to redeem himself. He had, in fact, lied about that particular incident. However, he was positive Melissa had consumed caffeine sometime after that video in the 7th grade.
"You're brain doesn't lie," Melissa snarked, referring to the fact that she had found no evidence of such an incident occurring in Rex's mind. "Whatever," Rex sighed, taking his coffee into the living room to sit with Melissa.
It was amazing to both of them how much the other had changed. Rex, with an almost complete lack of friendship for the past four years, had become even more introverted. Melissa, who had broken free from the suffocating Bixby, had become somewhat of an extrovert.
"You've changed so much," Rex said, now curled up on the couch once more. Melissa smiled nestled herself further into Rex's embrace.
"You know, everyone in Bixby has said that. You, Dess, my parents… even Jonathan and Jessica say I'm not quite who I used to be." Melissa shuddered slightly, almost afraid of what she was saying.
"It scares me sometimes," she whispered as Rex drew her closer. "I'm… becoming more of a daylighter." She shivered with disgust, appalled at the fact she even uttered those words.
"God Rex, what's happening to me?" Melissa questioned, burying her face in Rex's shoulder.
"That little disagreement we had… that didn't even sound like me!" she exclaimed in disbelief.
"People change Cowgirl, it happens," Rex said, trying to be reassuring.
"No. No! Not to me!" she said defiantly. Rex began to laugh, suddenly realizing why Melissa could have changed. "You know Melissa, I think you're finally happy." Melissa looked up at her Loverboy, studying his face intently.
"Being a Daylighter isn't being happy." Midnight shuddered into place familiarly, causing Melissa to smile widely. "Being a Midnighter is."