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Into the Cosmic Convergence-Mobile!

by Calista

Part One: A Very Unhappy Frenchie Visitor

It was a dark and dreary night-my favorite kind-and there was no chance in heck I was planning on studying for the Political Science exam that loomed ahead, early Monday morning. Of course, I probably wouldn't even leave my dorm room until the end of Easter vacation.

After last spring's incident with the roommate from you-know-where, I had managed to sucker-err, plead with-the Dean of Affairs. He'd agreed to let me move into one of the nicer suites. After a little more finagling, I managed to get the other half of the suite that my friend had. Actually, it wasn't a suite. It was two medium-sized rooms, attached by a bathroom-two bathroom doors served as the Mason Dixon line between Jen and me.

Anyways, I'm babbling again. The room deal was great-and Jenuhurst, nee Jennifer Jones, was a far better roommate than Medusa-the-sorority-wannabe.

I had just signed on to America Online to sort through my email, when a loud clap of thunder-punctuated by Douglas Sills' recorded voice (Author's Note: Well, unless Jen's been hiding Douglas in her room w/o telling me…) singing "Let the lightning strike! Let the flash of it shock you!". I laughed at the irony, chasing away the chill that had run down my spine; as I returned to the computer screen.

With the next clap of thunder, the room went completely dark. There was a whirring noise as the computer system shut down. In Jen's room, the League stopped mid-refrain, while Jen warbled onward ho.

"Great," I mumbled,"No elec-"

As I moved towards my bureau for the flashlight, crouching down to rummage through the drawers; I felt my head bump into another.

"Jen?" I asked warily, wondering how my friend had made her way into my room without alerting me of her presence-I had far too many things stacked precariously about to be able to walk, in darkness, through the room without hitting something. For that reason alone, I'd bought a half dozen nightlights when I moved in…

"You okay, 'Chele?" she called back from her room.

"Um-where's Jehan?" I didn't move, nor did the figure in the darkness. I doubted that it was Prouvaire playing some sort of trick on me. He was too serious for mischief making.

"He's here-"

As Jen spoke, the lights flipped back on. I found myself face-to-face with a familiar, if unhappy, looking individual.

"CHAUVELIN?!" I whispered in astonishment.

And that's when I, Michele, did something I never before thought I'd do: I fainted. Actually, I wish I had fainted. Or swooned even. Something classy, ultra-feminine. Anything but collapse on the floor like a sack of flour.


When I came to, the Chauvelin lookalike was slapping my cheeks, while Jen and Jehan stood by in confusion. Actually, Jehan looked confused. Jennifer, daam her evil soul, was grinning ear-to-ear.

"OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!" I exclaimed indignantly,"That HURTS!"

As gracefully as possible-which is more gracelessly than gracefully-I pulled myself up to sit on the bed.

"Mademoiselle, I wish to know why I am here," Chauvelin demanded coolly.

"You demand? Excuse me, Monsieur Attitude! You materialize in MY friggin' room, nearly give ME a heart attack, proceed to SLAP me-and YOU demand to know?"

Chauvelin barely flinched at my semi-hysterical outburst. He simply turned to Jen for his explanation.

"Mademoiselle, perhaps you can enlighten me-as you're comrade babbles like an imbecile when confronted."

I felt the sudden urge to either grab my letter opener to do him bodily harm, or stick out my tongue and mock him with always-reassuring "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but ONE more snide comment from you, and I'll bring out my Uzi."

Instead, I remained silent-trying to adopt the same bored manner Chauvelin seemed to permeate.

"Um-well-you see," Jen began explaining,"We haven't exactly figured that out yet. It could be some weird, cosmic converg-"

I groaned. Ever since Jehan had appeared from nowhere, most evenings had been spent arguing about one of two things-cosmic convergances. The other thing was Jehan's friends, as I always seem to stick my big foot in my equally as huge mouth when discussing Marius Pontmercy…

"Our life is like a really long episode of the X FILES," I explained, "Only without David Duchovney or commercial breaks."

Jen laughed. Jehan-having been introduced to the X FILES recently-grinned boyishly. Chauvelin's face, again, was completely devoid of any emotion. Ian McKellen played Chauvelin the best, I thought to myself, when staring at the real Chauvelin. This was, I had no doubt, the REAL Chauvelin.

"When do I return home?" The Citizen asked pointedly.

"We haven't figured that part out yet," Jen began to say.

"…So get used to your new roommates, ChaMBERTIN," I finished for her, a certain guilty thrill running through me at sight of Chauvelin's annoyed expression. Now I understand why Sir Percy taunted him with the mispronunciation. It was obviously a sore spot…

This could be fun, I thought to myself…


Later that night, Jen and I were returning to the 'suite', hampered down with food and clothing for Chauvelin.

"Fine-I'll admit this IS like a dream come true," I said, as we walked into her room,"But I swear, Jennifer, if Javert of Edward Hyde come TUMBLING out of the sky-I'll be out of here faster than you can say: 24601."

Jen grinned,"And I'll be right behind you singing THE WORLD HAS GONE INSANE..."

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