You stand dumbly in the doorway to your bedroom and stare at the woman reclining on your bed. As you try to process the fact that Sarge, the woman who's been haunting your fantasies for oh-so-many weeks is in your room, you remember your words from earlier this evening: 'I wish I had Sarge for a day,' right before you burst out laughing at your foolishness. 'She's not real,' you tell yourself firmly. 'Just a fictional character on a TV show. A really hot fictional character, but none the less, not real.' You finally manage to get some words past your tight throat. "Somebody pinch me."

The hallucination, she must be a hallucination, sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bed. "If you insist," she says dryly, before walking over to you and pinching your arm... hard.

"OW!" you yell. Your fuzzy brain registers the fact that you can't be dreaming as you get ready to berate her. "What was th-" you stop, looking into her unbelievably sexy face. "Uh..." You shift your gaze down, and immediately yank it back up again. "Would you like some clothes?" you ask dazedly.

She glances down at her black-lingerie-clad body. "Sure, if you've got something."

You are relieved to have something to do other then drool, and walk over to your closet. You pull out a white v-neck t-shirt and hold it up for her inspection. "Hmmm?"

She looks at it doubtfully, and you hurry to assure her that you'll get pants for her as well.

"What kind of pants?" she questions curiously. "I hope no pink ones. I hate pink."

You turn back to your closet. "No pink," you mumble. "Oookay." You pull out a faded pair of blue jeans which you think might fit her. "Will these do?"

She appraises them critically. "What are these made out of?" she asks, feeling how soft they are.

"Cotton," you tell her. "Very nice. Why don't you go try them on?" You herd her to the bathroom, and, once the door is closed behind her, you sink into a chair and try to compose your brain. Sarge. Is. In. Your. Bathroom.

She opens the door and steps out. Your breath catches in your throat. She looks great, as you knew she would. As she would in anything.

"I like these," she says. "Can I take them back with me when I go?"

"Go where?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"Back to my time of course," she says. "I'm only here for 24 hours. One day. That's what you asked for. It's what you got." She smiles. "So, why don't we get moving. I'm hungry."

You look at the time. It's past 7, and you are hungry too. "Uh, so where do you want to go?"

"Somewhere with food," she asserts.

You smile. "Yes, that's a given. But where?"

"I've never been to this city before. Where do you want to go?"

You smile. "Ever had pizza?"

                                                                *                *                *

Sarge takes a tentative bite out of her slice of pepperoni pizza. "Mmmm," she mumbles. "It's real good."

You smile as you finish your first piece and start on your second. "Better eat fast, or I'll get it all," you say around a bite of Hawaiian, and immediately regret your comment as she practically inhales four more pieces.

You see that she is after the last piece and quickly grab it. You smile at her as you munch on your trophy. "After all, I’m paying."

She gives you a dirty look, and reclines in her plastic seat. "You come here often?" she asks.

You look around at the Pizza Hut. "Sometimes. It’s easier to buy ready made food then for me to cook it. I can’t cook," you admit.

"Neither can I," Sarge says, sliding around the table so she is next to you.

You look at her nervously. "Um."

 She casts you a sultry look, moves her lips close to your ear and... steals your pizza.

 You look at her agape as she slides back to her initial seat and eats her ill gotten prize happily.

                                                                 *                *                *

 You unlock your apartment door and turn on the lights. "Kitty," you call, smiling as your cat comes running. You pick him up and show him to Sarge. "This is Cheerio. Cheerio, this is Sarge."

 Sarge looks at this strange creature suspiciously. "What is it?"

 "He," you correct automatically. "He's a cat. Please don't tell me you've never heard of cats."

 "Sure I've heard of cats," she says. "Just never ones that look like *that*."

 You stiffen. "There's nothing wrong with the way he looks," you say, your hand lightly ruffling his fuzzy grey fur. "Try petting him."

She reaches her hand out and lets Cheerio sniff it. He does so, and immediately starts purring.

You smile. "I think he likes you."

She smiles back, tentatively petting Cheerio.

Your eyes meet, and your insides turn to jelly as Sarge continues to pet the cat absently, her eyes focused on your own.

Finally, Cheerio decides he's had enough of being held, and, with a loud 'meow' he jumps out of your arms and scampers down the hallway.

"Uh," you say, and lick your lips. "It's late, I guess, and I've got work tomorrow-" you stop in dismay as your realize that you're going to have to do something with Sarge while you're working. "What am I going to do?" you whine softly.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Sarge says off handedly. "I’ll just come to your work. I don't mind." She turns and walks down the hallway into your bedroom. "I get the bed!" she calls.

You shake yourself out of your daze and go to get a blanket. Looks like you're sleeping on the couch.

                                                                *                *                *

Your watch goes off at six, and you groan. Muttering, you get up and stumble into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later you reluctantly climb out of the warm shower and into the cold morning air. You jet down the hall to your bedroom to find some some clothes. In your bedroom you choose an outfit and change into it. You do 'the makeup thing' and brush your hair.

Wandering into the kitchen, you have a brief feeling of shock as you see someone in your kitchen, sitting at the table and *drinking your soda*.

And then you remember. Sarge.

You smile. "Morning."

She looks up from the magazine she is reading. "Back atcha."

You turn on the coffee machine. "So, we should get going soon. Well, after I get my coffee fix."

"Okay," she says absently, carefully studying a picture of Ewan Mcgregor. She looks up from the magazine. "You've got better looking men these days."

You grunt noncommittally. "I dunno. I don't seem to have any." You crack a smile. "Not that I mind particularity."

When your coffee is done, you pour two mugs of it and sit down next to Sarge. "Try it," you coax, handing her one of the mugs.

She takes a sip and makes a face.

"Aw, come on! It's not that bad!"

Sarge looks at you and suddenly you find your own cup of coffee very interesting.

Your clock goes off and you jump. "Ack, we're going to be late!" you say, drinking your coffee in three gulps. "Maybe you shouldn't come with me."

Sarge, who had been finishing her soda, looks at you. "Why not?"

"Well, uh..." you pause. "There's just nothing for you to do. Maybe you'd enjoy it here better."

She sits back in her chair sullenly. "Fine then. I'll just sit here all day."

Exasperated, you pour more coffee into a travel mug and screw on the lid. "Look, there's stuff for you to do here." You grab the remote control and hand it to her. "There's the TV, there's food in the 'fridge and Cheerio will keep you company. BYE!" you yell as you race out the door.

                                                                *                *                *

Nine hours later, you sigh as you get into your apartment. The lights are all off. "Sarge?" you call uncertainly.

No answer.

"DAMN!" you yell. "She's gone now!"

Cheerio comes running up to you. He meows loudly, and you go into the kitchen to feed him. On the table is a note. You pick it up and scan it.

'I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back,' it reads. 'I tried to wait around, but Cleopatra had to go and get captured on us, and I had to return to my time. I promise I'll make it up to you... someday.

Sarge'

You smile and feed your hungry kitty.

The End Is Here. There :)

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The characters from Cleopatra 2525 belong to RenPics... not me. Sadly. I am not making any money off of this. Mmmph