Another one of those stories that seemed to come from nowhere.
At least it went somewhere - that's what I'm thankful for. The Will
Stanton in this story is from the same universe as Legacy of the Light
and the stories of the Hymnal Series. Go read them, if you haven't
already.

Standard disclaimers apply. Will Stanton and The Dark Is
Rising Sequence are both copyright of Susan Cooper. The
various Will-incarnations vaguely alluded to in this story are
the property of their respective writers, who should be blamed
as partial inspiration for this silly snip of fanfiction.

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The Designated Driver
By: Gramarye

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In a small, dusty office in Christ's College, Cambridge University,
a telephone rings.

- brr brr -

- brr brr -

'Will Stanton speaking.'

'Why, hello, my dear. What can I do for you?'

'Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm engaged this evening. There's a meeting
I have to attend.'

'You know perfectly well that I've finished with those meetings. This
is a different one.'

'At that pub down by the Cam, the Granta. I'm meeting someone there.'

'You may ask whom. However, you'd be wasting your time, as I have
no intention of telling you.'

'That wasn't a very nice thing to say.'

'Neither was that.'

'All right, all right. I'm meeting myself there.'

'Yes, you heard right. Myself. Several of my selves, actually.'

'...about fifty of us, I should think. There are always new ones each year.
New ones each month, it seems.'

'Believe it all you like. It's the truth.'

'There's no need to shout. I...yes, I know you didn't mean it. I know it
sounds daft. But it's the truth.'

'Listen. You know that thing that Merriman always used to say, about
all times co-existing? Well, that was only part of it. There are other
worlds out there that co-exist in a similar fashion with this one. I happen
to be meeting with my selves from these other worlds. That's all.'

'Well, what does anyone do at a pub? Have a pint, a packet of crisps.
Most of them - us - don't smoke, but a few do. And we talk. It's mostly
about the talking.'

'Oh, there's plenty to talk about. Those of us who are battling the Dark in
other worlds swap stories, strategies, things like that. It's rather unsettling
to hear the ways in which the Dark has managed to come back from
outside Time. You'd be - no, I suppose you wouldn't be surprised.'

'I happen to be one of the older ones, yes. You make it sound as if I'm
in my dotage.'

'Most of them - us, sorry - are fairly young. Late teens, early twenties.
Anyone who is of legal age in their particular world is welcome. And...what
was that?'

'What do you mean, "happy"? Some are more happy than others, if that's
what you're asking.'

'Yes, some are in relationships. But that doesn't....'

'How in blazes did you - no, no, please don't answer that. To answer your
question, those self-same relationships are more trouble than they're worth.'

'What?'

'No, you may not come with me.'

'My dear young lady, have you ever seen an Old One in his cups?
Depending on the situation he is in, it's not a pleasant sight.'

'You can imagine? Let me put it this way: the most important rule at these
meetings is to keep those who are happy with their existence as far away
as possibly from those who are unhappy with it.'

'There are many degrees of unhappy.'

'We - I - usually try to keep everyone separate. Those who are happily
settled with Bran Davies are kept away from those still pining after him,
and even the happily-settled ones have to be some distance from the
happily-settled ones who've managed to restore Bran's memories somehow.
Too much bad blood there. And then you have the ones who've ended
up with one of the Drews - Barney seems to be a popular choice, though
Jane's rather more so - or someone else. And there's the celibate ones,
both happily and unhappily so, and there's always a group who can't
seem to be happy with their existence no matter what, relationships or
otherwise, and they can get remarkably maudlin - or violent - toward
the end of the evening, and....'

'Yes, it is complicated. It would be complicated if they weren't all
drinking themselves into a stupor.'

'No, I don't usually drink at these things.'

'No, I am not the designated...look, it's not as if they'll be arrested for
drink-driving, is it? They simply need someone to keep an eye on things,
that's all.'

'Because I volunteered for it.'

'It's one night a year. They all come and drink, and talk, and some get
angry and try to blow things up, and others discover that they weren't
really after Bran or Barney or Jane at all and that either depresses them
or cheers them up to no end. But they all get to relax for a night. No
responsibilities, no duties, no fighting the Dark or their consciences or
their own hormonal urges. They'll all have raging hangovers the next
morning, of course, but they think it's worth it.'

'Yes, I'm glad you think so, too. And now I really must be going.'

'Yes. Yes, I'll take care of myself.'

'Yes, my selves. Thank you for correcting me.'

'Oh, really? Well, I hope you enjoy your evening, then. Give my regards to
the others - best of luck with their writings. There can never be too many of
us, can there?'

'That was meant to be a rhetorical question.'

'No, not at all.'

'Goodbye, now.'

- click -

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Gramarye
gramarye@postmaster.co.uk
http://gramarye.freehosting.net/
July 4th, 2003