crossover_chick | Drabbles88/Taking Care of Business

46. If
Buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz
Dr. Emmett L. Brown sighed in relief as the alarm on his wristwatch went off. Five o’clock at last. He finished up his last paper, then gathered his things and his coat. Around him, he could hear others rising and stretching as the work day ended. Not wanting to be sucked into any conversations, he shrugged on his coat, grabbed his briefcase, and headed straight for the door.
He made it outside without incident. His car, an old Cadillac, waited for him in his prescribed parking spot. He threw his briefcase inside and started it up. The engine sputtered for a moment, then caught. “Whew,” Doc mumbled, backing out. The car had been acting up a lot lately -- twice this week he had needed a jump from someone else.
The drive home was uneventful. Doc pulled up to Knight Apartments and headed up to his room, giving the front desk person a quick nod as he passed. His apartment was just as he left it this morning -- messy and cold. Doc adjusted the heat a bit, then headed into the kitchenette to make dinner.
He ate -- a ham sandwich and some potato chips -- then grabbed his briefcase and plopped it on the kitchen table. He always had work to take home. Such was life when you worked in a research facility.
He hated his job. Nuclear power had never been an interest of his -- in fact, he had been against it ever since he had seen the effects of nuclear bombs while working on the Manhattan Project. But he needed money to pay the Bitch’s alimony and child support, and his old 24-hour repair/scientific services van just wasn’t going to cut it.
Doc scowled. I wish I had never met Jill Wooster, he thought angrily. I wish I had never asked her to marry me. What a joke that must have been to her. She gets to live in my mansion, and have me at her beck and call, all the while entertaining that asshole Patrickson. And when I catch her cheating on me, I end up losing almost everything I have to her. Why the hell do divorce judges always side with the women?! Didn’t help that she was pregnant at the time. Doc’s hands shook. I know that kid isn’t mine. I know little -- Arthur? Andrew? Oh, fuck it, I don’t care -- is really Patrickson’s. But I’m still paying to help support him. Damn it, I wish I could kill Wooster and Patrickson. . . .
He sighed again and looked around. Well, there was no changing the past. At least, there certainly wasn’t while his time machine project was on hold. This was his life now -- a crummy apartment, a crappy job, no inventions to work on, and no friends to speak of. It all made him want to go to bed and never get up again.
If only I had told Jill no when she asked me to work on her father’s projects. . . .

-Docs: *mouths hanging open*-
I suppose I owe you guys an explanation, especially since this version of Doc will be RETURNING in more normal fic. . . .
-D: You thought up a reality in which I married JILL WOOSTER?!-
It was at work -- I was putting stuff together, and I was bored, so I let my mind wander back to the drabbles table. I was thinking of how to make some of the choices AU -- and as usual lately, my mind wandered to

foxywriter's story "No Place Like Home." I was entertaining myself with how her Doc and Marty might have reacted upon arrival in any of my universes when I had this thought:
"Hey, I wonder if there's any universe where Doc ended up marrying Jill Wooster?"
I had the backstory by the end of my shift. If you're interested, Doc married Jill in 1958, and the marriage lasted for seven years. Doc caught Jill in bed with Donald Patrickson in 1965 and started divorce proceedings. As mentioned, Jill was pregnant during the divorce, and managed to weasel a lot of money out of Doc. Doc now lives in Knight Apartments and works in a desk job at the Pacific Nuclear Research Facility.
-VD: *morbidly curious* Did my mansion still burn down?-
No -- I'm still undecided as to if Jill got it or you were forced to sell it. HOWEVER, either way, THE GARAGE WENT WITH IT. This version of Doc never met Marty either.
-VD2: You know, whenever I think you can't make me ANY ANGSTIER. . . .-
-D: But how is this version of me going to come back?-
I have a NonTrilogy story in the rather far future that required an alternate version of Doc who didn't know Marty. I figured I could use this one -- he's bitter enough to make things interesting, and this reality would be a shock to NonTrilogy Doc.
-D: Oh joy.-
Anyway, I've got his stats written down and stored for future reference. He'll be reappearing in "Double Reflux," a Doc/Gypsy story.

-VD: Well, speaking of fanfic, how about your other projects?-
Typed a page of "Boy Genius" and currently working on the written form; did the drabble above; working on "Misery Journey" right now. I also did some fiddling around with the "Hoverboards" picture this morning, OckDoc. Not sure how to get the hands, but the legs look good.
-OD: *tentacles nodnod* I see, thank you.-
-VD: What about "V.D.?"-

bttfbabe just got back to me with Chapters 3 and 4, along with Chapter 8 of "BTTX-2." I'll look those on over tonight, then I'll do editing tomorrow, along with more "Misery Journey" and hopefully another prompt.
-DW: *sticking tongue out* I hope the next one tastes better. Anything related to old girlfriends leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.-
-MF: Yeck.-
*calls in the regular girls to cheer the Docs up*
-VD2: I wonder how Jill's doing now? Or what she was doing in my original reality?-
Hmmmmm. Well, we see Donald again a couple of times -- let's just say all is not paradise between them. I imagine Jill as a housewife. As for Biff's reality. . . .
-VM: Hooker?-
Marty!
-VD2: *snicker* No, too straight-laced.-
-VJ: Maybe not in that world.-
No, not a hooker. If I recall correctly, she and Donald move to New Mexico. So I don't really know what would have happened to her.
-D: Good riddance to bad rubbish.-
Indeed. And you'll like another upcoming NonTrilogy story, currently being called "Karma" and starring you, Gypsy, Donald Patrickson, Jill, and Glenda Adams. . . .
-VD2: *evil, EVIL grin* I get the feeling I might like that too.-
LoL. Anyway, back to "Misery Journey." Beginning's going a little slow, but I still have most of the month.
-M: Hang on a sec -- what IS the rank of Urele House?-
Oh, right! Level 3 with five members. Once you move in, however, I expect that number to jump from all your family friends. And I think I'll have you recruit a few townies and such too. . . .
-M2: *grin* Fun.-
:) Okay, NOW back to writing.