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Well, hello, poor person, whose opinion of my writing will fall with reading this.  These are just going to be random pieces of Insanity that pop out of my strange mind.  Now, for some unknown reason, I'm posting them.  *sigh* There will be more. 

I don't own any of the characters. 

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                                    Side Effects

Kel sat determinedly on Peachblossom's wide back.  She had worn the saddle in too many places for a comfortable seat, but Kel was too busy trying to clear her head to notice, or even care.  She had been bitten and poisoned just minutes earlier in an incident involving a runaway goat, an angry snake and one very unfortunate lady knight.  She had returned from the forest extremely nauseous, and completely numb in one leg, not to mention goat-less.

Neal had examined the wound and declared it treatable with a simple healing potion.  The side effects, he assured her, would be present, but at a minimum.  He just happened to forget the fact that she was extremely allergic to walnuts, the potions third most plentiful ingredient.  The first one being a typical healer's herb: nasty in taste and a mild hallucigen. 

As you might imagine, the results were not favorable.

She felt herself drifting off into sleep more than once, but she always managed to stay awake.  She knew that one of the best ways to embarrass herself was to fall off her horse.  Though considering it was Peachblossom, she doubted anyone would blame her.

Then things got out of hand, not with her, but with Neal.

A small, harmless garden snake slithered onto the path; random people noticed, but no one cared - the horses no longer reared at the smaller things anymore, Daine had taken care of that - except for Neal.  He threw his steed's head to the side, but the mare snorted and threw him into the dust.  She took the opportunity to run off, with Neal shouting 'And don't come back' at her retreating form.  

Kel blinked at the spot where the horse had left them, and then at Neal, who was still sitting in the dust.  Kel looked at her companions to see if anyone else had even noticed.  Dom was also looking at his cousin, and he was even managing to look concerned.  That was her first clue that things were not as they should be.

The next one was when Neal's mount burst out of the tree line on the opposite side she had left, and bashfully approached her rider.  Instead of remounting, Neal brushed himself off, glared, and began to sing.  To his horse.

(To 'I will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor)

A harp sounded in the distant background and the soldiers began to clap, keeping the beat.  "At first I was afraid - I was petrified - kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.  But then I spent so many nights, thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along."

         Kel stared at him, eerily calm. 

"And so you're back from some place, I just stood up to find you here, with that sad look upon your face.  I wouldn't have changed your stupid shoes, I wouldn't have let you have your feed, If I'd have known for just one second, you'd have up and thrown me!"

Kel found herself bobbing her head to the rhythm before she caught herself and stopped.

"Going now go, gallop off some more, just wheel around now, 'cause you're not my horsie anymore.  Weren't you the one who tried to break my lower back, you think I'd stumble, think I'd cough and I'd hack!"

The horse, meanwhile, was looking as dejected and self-pitying as any horse could.

"Oh no, not I!  I will survive!  Oh, as long as I know where to go, I know I'll stay alive.  And I've got all my life to walk, and I've got all my voice to talk, and I'll make it to my lover's side!  I will survive!"

He struck a matinee idol's pose and the sun eclipsed to give him the effect he wanted.  His horse, snorted, and walked away.

Then to no one in particular, she asked, "I'm dreaming, right?" 

She got an answer.  "The subconscious mind is often more perceptive than the conscious mind," Dom told her, "And it's not uncommon for the mind to create an ideal situation in dreaming."

She looked at him strangely.  When had he become a psychiatrist?  And though Neal did seem to have issues with horses, why would she dream...that?

"Like you Kel," He smiled disarmingly, "You're having this dream-conversation because in real life you look up to me for support.  You also admire my inexplicable wit and devilish charm."

She realized with a jolt that he was right.  But even in her dreams, Dom had no right to be so cocky; she muttered a few choice words at him under her breath.

Then, without another word on the topic, he pulled out a quaint banjo and strummed it once.

(To the 'Beverly Hillbillies' theme song)

"Now listen to my story 'bout a gal named Kel:  She had a crush on me and I never could tell.  And then one day while I tried to start a fire, she confessed her feelings to me and called herself a liar."

"Deceiving, that is," Neal added.    

"Hid her feelings," Lerant appeared out of nowhere.

Dom nodded, "But she couldn't deny them.

"Well, the next thing I know the lady knight is kissing me, Third Company said 'Dom, make a move on she!'  said, "Friendship is nice, but you both want more, " So we took a leap of faith and we still are."       

Dom smiled, "Friends, that is."

"Good ones," Third Company agreed.  "The best."

Dom faced her again, "And so Keladry, will you marry me?"

Looking into his overly bright blue eyes, and then glancing back at the soldiers behind them, eagerly awaiting her response, she did the only thing she could.  She gave him a blank stare, blinked listlessly, and fell out of her saddle.  She was dimly aware that Peachblossom hadn't killed him yet, and she screamed in confusion and frustration.  After all, it was her third clue, and all she needed.

"No!  Don't sing anymore, Dom!"

Kel awoke in an upright position, in a small clearing in what looked like a portion of the Royal Forest.  Everyone's eyes were on her, due to her little outburst, and Dom himself was sitting next to her. 

His eyebrows were almost to his hairline and his eyes had lost their glassy look.  "I'm going to go ahead and assume that had some relevance in your dream."

She blinked at him, for what seemed like the hundredth time.  "Dream?"

"Yeah," He said, his concern evident, "You've been mumbling in your sleep for over an hour now."

She sighed in relief.  None of it had been real, then.  "Dream, dream.  No.  It was a nightmare."  She sighed again and leaned against the tree at her back.

"My singing isn't that bad," he protested.

'And neither is Neal's, come to think of it', she thought.

She smiled; Dream Dom had said some idealistic things, even if it had been in song.  "No, it's not," she said obscurely, "but I knew it was a dream anyway."

He snorted at her.  "Oh, you did, did you?  Then can you please explain why you were cursing Meathead in a variety of languages, and then you yelled quite viciously something along the lines of 'Shut up you pathetic Nancy boy's excuse for a Sergeant'?"

She flushed and grinned sheepishly, but he tossed aside her explanation with a simple, 'I thought not.'

He returned to carving a plain whistle out of a chunk of wood for a while, and she watched him inconspicuously out of the corner of her eye.  She had a slight smile on her face, the result of something Dream Dom had told her.  "The subconscious mind is often more perceptive than the conscious mind.  And it's not uncommon for the mind to create an ideal situation in dreaming."

Then she remembered what Dream Dom admitted after that, and her smile grew into a full-fledged grin, all thoughts left far behind in favor of dreaming.

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Oh *sigh*.  I hope there weren't too many things wrong with it; it hasn't been beta'd.  Well, tell me how not funny it was.

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