I slunk back further into my corner of the booth. Yet another screaming child was being dragged away from the play area, tearfully protesting that he wasn’t ready to go yet, nononono. I devoted my full attention to the chicken sandwich oozing grease in front of me, making a mental note to *never* again return to Fried Chickinz R Us on "Kids Eat Free" night.

I was doing such a wonderful job blocking out the chaos around me that he had to repeat the question twice before I heard him.

"Is someone sitting here?"

Battling with a ketchup packet, I motioned for him to sit down. I glanced up to see who I sharing a table with in this infernally crowded restaurant and found myself staring into green eyes. Impossibly green eyes. Familiar eyes. Eyes like the summer seas after a storm…

My brain began functioning again and promptly kicked itself for waxing melodramatic. I quietly picked my jaw up off the table, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and tried to cover for my brief lapse of coherent thought.

"Care for a French fry?" I said suavely.

Solemnly, he accepted. Apparently in no hurry to continue a conversation, he finished off my fries while I pretended to eat the rest of my sandwich. I had a vague sense of foreboding. I had read the boards; I knew the (fill in your favorite nickname for Our Hero here) was "visiting" all the writers, but I didn’t write for the boards. True, I read every story and had laughed and cried at the wonderful words of all the people brave enough to post, but the only one who knew of my enjoyment of these tales was my cat. She only knew because my laughing disturbed her nap beneath my monitor. I was one of those nameless, faceless entities know as "lurkers."

"You don’t talk much; do you, " he said gently, shaking me from my musings. It wasn’t really a question. I opened my mouth, started to say something, then shook my head, a tad shamefacedly.

"It’s okay, you know," he said. "They’re all really quite nice." He got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment but soon returned to the situation at hand. "They just want to know if you like their stories."

"Like them?" I said softly. "I have laughed harder, cried more, and thought deeper at these stories than I have at most books I have read recently. Like them? I have been hooked on these stories since Lady posted her first poem back in August on the very first storyboard at Jeanette’s." I paused a moment in homage to the dearly departed. Moment finished, I continued my rant. "Like them? I have squealed in delight each time I saw that zzoomama had posted an addition to her story. Like them? I have thrown things at the screen when Nikita507 has ended her story on a cliffhanger Yet Again. Like them? I sigh contentedly when I finish one of ‘chelle’s heartwringers. Like them? I’m still trying to get the Kool-Aid stains off my desk from when I read the last of Scoo’s naughty little tales. Like them? These stories kept me going through the interminably long stretch of time between October and January 4th. Not to mention my readdiction to Cheez Balls. And I had thought I was cured…"

His smile interrupted me. After I picked myself back up off the floor, he said, "Ah, Silea, Silea, you have forgotten: in cyberspace, no one can hear you laugh, unless you write and tell them so. Remember Enjoue` and the cliff?"

I nodded, blushing shamefully that even then I hadn’t broken my silence.

All traces of that smile left his face, and he fixed to my chair with a piercing stare. "We cannot let such a thing happen again, to any author. You are to return to your computer and inform these talented women and men (nod to Hopposai) of your enjoyment of their literary (for the most part) endeavors."

His watch beeped, and he glanced at it. "Duty calls. Caro, I think, is next; or is it Ursula? No matter, I leave you now, but if I discover you have disobeyed me…" He did something subtle with his eyebrows, and my throat went dry.

As quickly as he had come, he was gone, leaving only my empty fry packet as a sign that he had ever been there.

************

My apologies to all the wonderful authors I left out in my little rant; you are no less appreciated. To all the other lurkers:

Mikey found me; he can find you, too. Consider yourselves warned. ;)

Send suggestions and comments to ranma.