"Ted has his own Muse fic."

The voice, so deceptively calm and subdued, barely registered as I tried to re-submerge myself in the story I had been working on before my computer took a dive a week before.

"That's nice Murray. Now go play with Hogan for a while, I need to get reacquainted with this story, then perhaps you could provide some input. Earn your keep, as it were."

"I dunno if I'll feel like it today. Seeing as how I'm pretty depressed about not having the same perks as Ted has."

"Murray, you can't have the same perks. We are different people, different authors, just different. And don't even THINK of saying it!"

Murray tried valiantly to pull off an innocent look, but innocence doesn't come very easy to my young frog muse. The truth is, when he tries to look innocent it comes across as mildly deranged.

"Needs work, Murray. Go practice on Hogan for a while."

"I don't want to practice with Hogan! I want a muse fic!" The volume was definitely increasing.

"Well, I don't want to write a Muse fic, so you are out of luck my green friend. If you can't help, then shut up and leave me alone."

"I WANT A MUSE FIC!"

I'm going to get Dagmar for this one. We had talked about doing a Muse fic featuring her bear, Ted, and my frog, Murray, for a long time. But I just thought of it along the lines of a carrot and stick arrangement. You know, hold the carrot in front of the mule so it keeps on working, the prize tantalizingly just out of reach. Then she has to go and give Ted the damn carrot. Now I have Murray demanding equal treatment. Damn, damn, damn. Wasn't so bad when the communication between our boys was cut off, but now Ted is smugly bragging about his fic, driving Murray, and me, crazy.

"Tell you what, I'll make you a deal," I offer, using my most persuasive tones. "Help me finish this story, and we will see about your very own Muse fic. Sound fair?"

"No. I want it now!"

"Murray, you got me started on this story all the way back on August 16 of last year. Ten pages into it, you decide you don't like it. Then, all of a sudden, we have to work on it again. Now on page twenty you want to drop it again. At this rate it won't be finished until 2006! Give me a break, let's finish the darn thing so we can move on to greener pastures. Please!"

"Not until I have my Muse fic!"

"Fine! I don't need your help. I can do it myself. Just go sit in a corner and sulk, see if I care!" This is getting simply infuriating.

Murray stalked off to his 'pouting corner' while I tried to find the best way to deal with the situations that had been set up in the story, but nothing was working. The wretched little amphibian was watching, and I swear he was snickering.

"Knock it off, Murray. Or I'll let Sera play with you." The mention of my anything-but-vicious dog was enough to make the snickering stop. But the amused gleam in his eyes continued.

Why in the heck had I wanted a Muse? I knew he was helping me long before I could see him, and I found myself wishing I could see him. As soon as he manifested himself as a frog, I knew I was in trouble. But I had never heard that frogs were so emotional. When happy, he literally bounces off the walls, leaping around in a green blur, tormenting the dog, and spewing out ideas too quickly for me to follow. When depressed, he seems to melt into a small puddle of green despair, pathetic whimpers emerging from time to time. These extreme moods almost always occur after receiving his daily email from Ted.

Dagmar and I had thought it would be nice for our Muses to become friends. After all, they are almost the same age, are the same sex, and provide ideas for the same genre. This, in retrospect, was a BAD IDEA! I have come in to find Ted dangling the much smaller Murray by one leg off the edge of my desk, had a coffee coated frog splat down on my keyboard, and had a rather large beetle delivered to my desktop (I don't even want to know why). Murray sent Ted into shock by yelling at him repeatedly, and laughed at him when he tumbled off the desk and get entangled in the cords behind Dagmar's computer. And one memorable afternoon I found my Muse in what was the equivalent of a total emotional breakdown. But despite his teasing, that one wasn't really Ted's fault. Seemed that Murray found the TV remote and the...ahem...nature channel. With no sleep for over 24 hours and severe hormonal overload from watching naked female frogs cavorting, my Muse lost all control, scaring the heck out of poor Ted.

Then there's the competition between the two of them. Whatever one has the other wants. Never mind that their home and life situations are completely different. Ted lives in Germany with a nice, stable family unit consisting of a husband, wife and child (or the Giant, Writer and Kid if you listen to Ted) in a city of 500,000 people. Whereas Murray lives with only a writer, and the Dog, in a California desert community of only 5,000 people. Ted's humans are teachers, history buffs, well educated and multilingual. Murray's human works in accounting, reads Stephen King, and the closest she comes to being bilingual is the one smidgen of sign language she learned while driving a truck. Ted's writer is a Jason fan (Jasonite?), Murray's is a Yostie.

Well, at least life isn't boring. I was trying to figure out how to handle the problems with Tanya's parents in the current story, when Murray approached me.

"How's it going?" he asked, his innocent look a bit better than usual.

"Fine. Just fine," I muttered.

"That bad, huh?"

"You are treading on thin ice, Murray. Don't mess with me. What brings you out of your corner?"

"Can I read Ted's story? Please?"

I gave him a copy of the story, which he took back to his corner. Hogan, the very young frog Ted sent over from Germany, sat nearby, silent as always. I still had not heard him speak, though Murray assures me he can. He is not a muse, I don't think he ever will be, but he is a companion for Murray during the long days when I'm at work, and Sera is outside.

I could hear Murray chuckling. "What's so funny over there?" I asked.

"When she uses the description 'attention span of a four-year-old, attitude like a typical fourteen-year-old teenager, and vocabulary of a forty year-old-truck driver' is she describing Ted or you?" Murray inquired.

"Murray...."

"Just asking. After all, you ARE a forty-year-old truck driver."

"Thirty nine. Former. And you are living very dangerously. Are you ready to help or not?"

"Oh, I guess.......NOT! I want a Muse fic."

"Dream on, Green Boy. I'm not doing it."

"Yeah, and you said you wouldn't do a Rocky songfic, either. And we both know how that one turned out."

"Oh, shut up!" I was still ticked off about the Rocky songfic. I don't do Rocky. Nothing against the character, I just don't get into him. But Murray had to go and hit me with a Rocky songfic. I had been happily working away on a story that had Jason, Tommy and Billy being chased by a couple of murderers in Angel Grove Forest, and whammo, Murray shifted gears on me. Honestly, I had listened to that song many times without ever making the connection, but leave it to Murray to not only make the connection, but to badger me relentlessly until I wrote the story. Never minding that I would rather be in the woods with Jason, Tommy and Billy. He wouldn't let me back into the forest until Rocky was a widower. Sometimes Murray can be such a pain. And I certainly was not about to tell him I actually enjoyed writing the Rocky story.

"Hey, it got good response. What are you complaining about?"

"Oh, never mind. Just give me some help here. Please, Murray, I want to get this story done in this century."

"Why don't you ask Ted. I though he was your new 'golden boy'. You listen to him better than you do me."

I sighed. "I already told you. It wasn't that I accepted his fic idea. I accepted his challenge. He and Dagmar dared me to write that. I had no choice. You know I don't do much OVG, but I can't ignore it when someone dares me with a story idea."

"You need to learn to. My gosh, you were making a mess of that story. I couldn't believe it."

"I was trying to gross Dagmar out. I never intended to submit it. I guess you get the credit for the idea that made it post-able."

Murray swelled up like a small, green balloon. "It was a bit of brilliance, wasn't it?"

"Let's not get carried away. Ever hear of a TV show called "Dallas"? Used the same plot device. So don't get too enamored of your intellectual poweress. It's been done before."

"But certainly not as well."

I rolled my eyes but didn't bother to comment. Murray still needs to be encouraged from time to time. He unpuffed a little, but still looked mighty darned pleased with himself.

I decided the time was right. "Since you are so brilliant, how about some suggestions for when Adam is stuck with Rocky's family? Just some nice, non-lethal ideas."

"After I get a Muse fic, maybe I'll be able to think about Adam and his potential difficulties. In the meantime, all I can think of is how Ted has a Muse fic and I don't."

I groaned. Murray's worse than any mule. "Fine. Just fine. You want me to drop everything, forgo all other activities until you have your Muse fic. Would that make you happy?"

"Yep."

"Guess you are doomed to a life of unhappiness then."

He gave me a dirty look and went back to Ted's story. "Hey, she cuddles him. You don't cuddle me."

"Murray, you are a frog. You are not cuddly. Sorry, buddy, but that's biology. You aren't furry, you're...." I almost said slimy, until I remembered his aversion to that term. "....lubricous." He shot me a questioning look, not sure if he was being insulted or not.

"Whatever. I still need affection."

"Hey, I give you affection. You seem to enjoy sprawling on my arm as I type, watching everything. Isn't that affectionate?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so. I do enjoy that. Can I sit there now?" There was something so plaintive in his expression. I picked him up and placed him on my left arm where he could observe the monitor. Having made tentative peace with him again, I was afraid to try to hide what I was writing, so he read what was visible then turned to me in surprise.

"You are writing my Muse fic?"

"Ahem...well, I suppose so. It's the only way I'll ever get your mind back on business. I'm taking a long weekend and would like to see some progress on 'Conundrum'. I guess this is the only way."

"Oh, boy! I get a Muse fic! Just wait until Ted hears about this! He's going to be pissed!"

"Murray! That isn't very nice, now is it?

"I suppose not. But he is."

I sighed. "Here's the deal. I write this, and you start pumping out some help on 'Conundrum'. Not a new story, not an OVG story, 'Conundrum'. Got it? Then you get to work on the other unfinished ones. I am sick of having all these half finished fics sitting on my hard drive. When the computer went down I was afraid I'd lose them. Let's get them all finished. Deal?"

"Oh, okay. Deal."

"Uncross your fingers and try again."

He gave me a venomous look. "Fine. Deal. Satisfied?"

"More or less."

"But, if you aren't nice to me I have a wonderful Aisha idea just waiting in the wings...."

I groaned and slumped in my chair.

Why did I ever want a Muse?