Distant Memories (Skihee's version)
by Skihee

This piece was written as a manic moment when Lori was in the process of writing Distant Memories and left us all hanging with Horatio dead on the grass. This reader was mildly freaked seeing her hero dead in the grass and wanting a different and sooner story completion, took matters into her own - keyboard. And so........


Horatio lay lifeless upon the grass. Archie stood above him, watching the rain wash the blood from his hands.


(Writer to director): There. That is very dramatic, don't you think?

Director: Well, yes, but now the damn star of the series is dead. (he looked over seeing Horatio up on his elbow looking at them in discussion.)

Horatio: Yes, I thought this show was called "Hornblower"? If I am dead, what will you call it? "Kennedy"? (He jabbed Archie's calf with his finger, looking up at him) You wrote this didn't you? I always knew you wanted my job!

Writer: Well, he isn't really dead, you see.

Director: OH? What is next in your emmy winning scenario?

Writer: Well, call for action and see!

Director sighing: Very well. ACTION!!!

(Horatio lies back down, Archie stands over him, Edrington looks eastward)

Edrington: I say, who is that?

Archie(looking down sadly at HH on the grass): It's Horatio. Who else?

Edrington: No, no! There!

Archie looks up. A short figure approaches them dressed in monk robes, the
hood pulled low over his face. He stops, looking up into Archie's blue eyes.
Archie startles with recognition. The figure bends to a knee, reaches out
touching Horatio's chest wound. His hand begins to glow over his chest,
Horatio begins to breath again.

Edrington: Who the hell are you?

Monk: Huuuurrrrrttttttt. Oooowwwwwwiiiiiiiiieeeeeee.

Horatio sits up watching the exchange between Edrington and the monk. Archie looks

Archie: Horatio! You're alive!!!

Horatio stands to address the monk: Thank you for saving my life. Who are
you that I may thank you?

Monk: ET phone home! ET phone home!!!

Director: CUT! That is the most ridiculous piece of writing I have ever

Writer: I thought it was a nice touch!

Director: There aren't any damn phones in the 18th century!

Writer: Very well! Try this one.

Director looks at him dubiously.

Writer: Come on! Yell, -- ACTION!

The group begins again. Horatio laying on the grass, etc, etc, etc.

A tall figure in a monks robe walks up. (The director eyes the writer)

The monk bends to a knee over the dead Horatio. Placing his hand over his chest, he
grabs his own, then, falling back onto the grass, a blood stain appears
on his chest. He seems to die as Horatio comes back to life. HH sits up and
look at the figure on the grass. The blood stain begins to disappear from the monk's chest and he begins to breath again. Horatio kneels over him.

Horatio: Are you all right? You saved my life!

Director: CUT!

Everyone looks over at him.

Writer: Why did you do that? It was going along so well.

Director: This isn't bleedin' Star Trek! We don't have any empaths in the
18th century!

Writer: Well, why the hell not? They had all sorts of miracles going on in
the world! Why can't we have an empath?

Director: Because I said NO!

Writer and others looking at each other. Horatio lies down dead again,
muttering to himself. "I feel like I'm in a damn chronic hystorhysis!"


Director: What on earth are you going on about NOW?

Writer: Just watch! ACTION!!!

Horatio and Archie take their places, the monk leaves. All of a sudden a Blue
British Police Telephone Box materializes. A fuzzy headed man with a long knitted
neck scarf of many colors steps out.

Who: Hello there! I say, did you need a chronic hystorhysis? Very glad to

Director: CUT! What the hell is this? I already told you there were no
phones in the 18th century!

Who: Do you need a Doctor? (he asked Horatio. Horatio looks up at him)

Horatio: Actually, we need a writer. I don't know. I think I'm dead.

Who: Well, I am a doctor if you need one. What has happened?

Horatio: Well, I have just died you see, and everyone on the HHFic list is
upset about it. So Skihee there took to writing to try and save me, I guess.

Who: Skihee where is he/she?

Horatio: Skihee is a she. See her there? She is clicking away at her
keyboard. If you can help her in anyway, I would be everso in your debt.

Who: I see. Well, come with me.

Dr. Who takes him into the telephone booth and they disappear.

Director: Now what the bloody hell has happened? Go get that skihee person
and stop her! Where is my star?

Skihee: NO, NO! You mustn't stop me now! I can save him! Look look!
There he is!

Director: Where?

Ski: There!!!

Horatio was walking up minus musket ball hole and blood.

Director: Where the hell did you go? Costume? Make-up? What happened to
your wound?

Horatio: Well, you see, I went with the good doctor there and he took me
back in time to before I was shot! Good solution, eh? Thanks, Ski! (He
salutes skihee)

Skihee: Anytime, Horatio. I couldn't bear seeing your lifeless body there
on the grass. Come on over we can watch some old movies. I have this
wonderful copy of "That Hamilton Woman"

Horatio: Oh! The film about Lord Nelson?

Ski : Yes! That's the one.

Horatio: Grand! I shall be right there! Got any popcorn?

Ski: We can get some!

All of a sudden a black shoe came through Skihee's screen followed by white
stockinged legs, white stained trousers, a white lapeled blue navy leftenants
coat, followed by the rest of a wavy haired, chisel cheeked 5 foot 11 inch Horatio.

Horatio: I say! It is so much cooler here than in the Med! And, no bullet

Gheyawd! I have to go now guys we are having popcorn and a movie!


Apologies to Lori, E. T. the Extraterrestrial, Star Trek, and Tom Baker's Dr. Who. :)

The end.

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