Random drabbles from Dreamwidth vol II
Jun. 6th, 2009 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsAll written for the dailyprompt comm.
Some crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
chaserslash. CBF posting to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfanfics. *is lazy*
May 15th – “the middle of the night”
The Chaser – Craig/Andrew
It was the soft strum of a guitar that woke Craig. He sighed. He didn't need to open his eyes to know his bed was half empty. Andrew must be awake. Reluctantly, he sat up to see what Andrew was doing. He wasn't in the room.
"Ahh, shit. At least he moved this time," Craig muttered.
He left his warm bed behind and quietly followed the sound of the guitar. He found Andrew perched on the couch on his back verandah. Craig joined him, looking down at him blearily.
"I'm assuming you're on the verge of creating the best song ever written, yes?" Craig said.
Andrew stopped and looked up at him, shocked at his appearance. He hadn't heard him approach. "Oh. Craig. Hi. Um, yeah, something like that. Woke up with music in my head. Needed to play it."
"Right. Any chance of you coming back to play me?" Craig said.
"Not now. I need to get this melody right," Andrew muttered.
Craig sighed. "Right. Well, you keep serenading the moon or whatever it is you're doing. I'm going back to bed. Night."
Andrew smiled sweetly as he played the end of the tune, pleased with how it sounded. He let the notes hang in the air.
"Whatever. Have fun, Hansen," Craig said.
Craig left him to it and shuffled back to bed. Soon after, he heard Andrew begin playing again. Ignoring the soft melody, Craig went back to sleep, figuring Andrew wouldn't be back in bed again that night.
May 21 – “Caught in the act”
The Chaser: Chas/Julian
“And what are you up to, Chas?"
It was the way he said it that made Chas think that perhaps Julian wasn't in the best of moods. He had been digging around in Julian's desk, looking for that elusive set of handcuffs he knew Julian kept. He thought it was time Julian was punished for not letting him play at work, which is what he wanted the handcuffs for. However, they were nowhere to be found. He turned and faced him, disguising his intentions.
"Nothing, Jules. Just looking for you," Chas said.
"In my desk drawers?" Julian said.
"Well, you never know, Julian. One should never rule out the possibility of someone creating a shrink ray to make you into a much more manageable size," Chas said.
"Oh, really?" Julian approached him, making sure his height was apparent.
"Open your mind, Jules. It could happen," Chas said, peering up at him.
"Sure it could. What were you really up to?" Julian said.
"None of your business, since you're being so mean. I'm gonna go see if Andrew's free. You can stay here and pray that shrink ray doesn't return," Chas said, pushing past him.
"Oh, come on. Don't I at least get a kiss before you go?" Julian said, turning towards him.
"Tell me where those damn handcuffs are, and you can have as many kisses as you like," Chas said.
"Not on your life," Julian said.
"Alright. Your loss. I'll see you later, Jules," Chas said, bounding off to find Andrew.
Julian sighed and perched on his desk. He really needed to get a lock on his office door. That would stop Chas searching for those damn handcuffs.
He walked over to a nondescript cardboard box sitting on top of one of the filing cabinets and opened it. Inside sat the handcuffs. Julian decided it was best if they were not here anymore and slipped them inside his bag, making sure they were well-hidden.
Julian was, however, unaware of Chas peering silently and invisibly into the room. Now he knew where those cuffs were. When Julian left, he would sneak in and steal them and then Julian would be sorry.
May 26th 2009 – Hiding in plain sight
The Move/ELO – Jeff Lynne/Bev Bevan
I met Bev through Roy after he finally coaxed me into joining The Move. I admired Bev’s skill. I could never drum like that, no matter how much I practiced. In hindsight, that night shouldn’t have happened, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. I wasn’t as hesitant about Bev as I had been about Roy. All I did was drag him around a corner, where we were hidden from sight, and kissed him. Kinda set off everything else, really. It didn’t matter that he was older than me. We just sort of fell together in a way that probably wasn’t wise at the time. We were too caught up in the moment to care.
We left Roy and the party behind and ended up back at Bev’s. What happened, well, happened. We were just kissing on his sofa. I went to, you know, get in his pants, but he stopped me. I pulled back, wondering if I’d read his affections wrong.
“Is this alright? You do want this, don’t you?” I said.
“I do, it’s not that, it’s just… Look, I’m not what you think I am,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
He shifted and leaned in to whisper in my ear. He told me something I had not even imagined. “I was born a girl.”
I sat back and looked at him. He looked nothing like a girl. A bit effeminate, sure, but that was kinda how guys were back then, y’know? Girly hair, girly pants, it was just how things were. You could get away with that sort of thing in the 60s, if you were smart. I looked at Bev again. I just couldn’t see it. I brushed my fingers through his hair. It was soft and dark and flopped around his eyes.
“Nah, you were not, mate. I know a girl when I see one, and you ain’t it,” I said. He even had stubble. Girls don’t have stubble, and his body was all masculine.
“You know, I didn’t want to have to do this, but.” He paused and finished off what I had started, undoin’ his pants so I could slip my hand inside. He was right. He had been born a girl. “Believe me now?”
I took my hand away. “Yeah, just a bit. So, you’re a bloke now? Why?”
“I had to. I couldn’t stay a girl. It was too painful. Wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, of course, it was all done quiet. Mum didn’t want anyone finding out. But I’m happy like this. We’re still okay, aren’t we?” He looked at me, as if worried I was going to freak out.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. I never would’ve guessed, you know,” I said. I took his hand and squeezed gently. I was trying to reassure him I was okay with it.
“Thanks. Don’t mention it to anyone, will ya? I prefer as few people to know as possible,” he said.
“I won’t. You’re quite handsome for a boy, you know,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ve been told that.”
“Can I kiss you again?”
“Sure.”
It didn’t even matter anymore. He looked too much like a man for me to think he was anything else. I kissed him, gently. I felt his fingers in my hair. I shivered.
Being with him that night was weird. That’s not to say I didn’t, y’know, enjoy meself, but it wasn’t something I’d ever done before. It was also the start of a long friendship as we brought Electric Light Orchestra to life.
I think, perhaps, it was what drove Roy to leave. We’d grown apart and Roy and I couldn’t agree on where to go with it. In the end, he gave it to me and left. I never really talked to him after that. Then again, I had Bev and the band and life was good.
May 28th 2009 - "Do you remember / How you were gonna stay free? / But they had plans for you / And things to do"
The Chaser (RPS) – Chris Taylor (uni-era)
It was late December, 1991. Chris looked at the letter on the kitchen table in front of him. It was from Sydney University. He didn't need to open it to know what it contained.
"Well, aren't you going to open it?" his father said.
"What would be the point? I know what it says," Chris said, trying not to sound spiteful.
"Become a mind-reader, have you? Just open it," his father said.
Chris sighed. He was in no mood to fight with his father. He opened the letter and read what it said. He had been right. They were offering him Law, and a place at St Paul's College, where his father had lived when he was at Sydney Uni.
"I got into Law, dad, just like you wanted," Chris said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"Good man. A fine career," his father said. He, like everyone before him, had been a lawyer. He wanted nothing more than that this tradition continued with his sons.
Chris thought his father looked like he was preening his feathers. He could already imagine the way he'd be introduced from now on. He cringed at his lack of courage in placing Journalism as his first preference. He suddenly wanted to be sick.
"Yeah, I know," Chris said. He didn't sound convinced. "I-I'm gonna go read for a bit," he said, wanting to be away from his father's glare.
He didn't wait for a reply. He took the letter and retreated to his room. All his life he had fought against this career choice. He didn't want to be a lawyer. He wanted to do comedy, or failing that, journalism. He had told his father this many times before, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.
Chris shoved the letter in his desk drawer and lay on his bed. He was a coward. He should've stood up for himself. Instead, he accepted the decision with a fatalistic inevitability. There was nothing he could do. If he dared change his course, he'd be in trouble.
He buried his face in his arms and cried. His fate had been sealed. He wanted to run away and do his own thing, but he knew he never would, because earning his father's respect was more important to him. He didn't want to be a disappointment, no matter how much he knew that would happen anyway, no matter what he did.
May 29th 2009 – “Singing in the rain”
The Chaser – Andrew Hansen/Craig Reucassel
It wasn't that he was cold necessarily. Running around dancing and singing in the rain had warmed him up considerably. It was the fact he was currently wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt in the rain that was the problem. Okay, so maybe he was a little cold. Okay, maybe a lot. It wasn't his fault he started shivering as soon as the temperature dropped below 20C. At least they had finally finished filming. He could head back into the warmth now. His body had never been good at keeping heat.
He hadn't even managed to bring a jumper with him. There had been no time, since the rain had turned up so suddenly. They only had time to run back to the ABC, change, find Chas, and run out again before the rain stopped.
Craig pounced on him then, his wet raincoat doing nothing to warm him up.
"You alright, Hansen? You look a little pale," he said, wrapping his arms around Andrew's shoulders.
"That's because I'm cold, Reucassel. You aren't helping," Andrew said.
"Good thing we're not far from work. I can take you back and dunk you under a hot shower," Craig said.
"At least you've got a jacket," Andrew grumbled.
"Poor baby. Better get you inside then," Craig said.
And with that, Craig scooped Andrew up in his arms and ran towards the entrance. Craig couldn't pick anyone else up like that. Only Andrew was tiny enough to carry around like a baby. Craig put him down when they got to the door, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"There. That'll be $50 thanks," Craig said.
"You are an obnoxious prick," Andrew said. "Race you inside?"
Andrew had started running before Craig could protest. Though never one to lose, Craig chased after him anyway and tackled him onto one of the lounges inside, pinning him down. Andrew grinned.
"No more fucking running, Hansen. Come on, we've got stuff to do," Craig said.
"Spoilsport," Andrew said. If there hadn't been people around, he'd have licked his cheek.
Craig got to his feet and dragged Andrew with him. "Come on. You need to warm up, remember?"
"$50 if you carry me again?" Andrew said, hopefully.
"Not on your life. Carry yourself, Hansen," Craig said. "Or, I dunno, get Julian to carry you," he said as he saw Chas and Julian catching up with them.
"Andrew, stop being a princess. Charles isn't here to sweep you off your feet again," Chas said, interjecting on Julian's behalf.
"Bloody Charles. I really should keep him on a leash or something," Andrew said, making a mental note to mention this next time he saw Charles.
"So that wasn't your leash he used when he was trying to get himself tortured by American soldiers?" Craig said.
"He did that on his own. That was none of my doing," Andrew said.
"Just get him out of here, Craig. The sooner he warms up, the sooner he'll stop whingeing about it," Julian said.
"With pleasure, Jules," Craig said. "Come on, princess."
Craig took Andrew's wrist and pulled him away. Andrew had an irritating capacity to whinge about everything injury or disease he had managed to obtain. Better not give him a chance than risk a whole afternoon of editing with him complaining about being too cold or getting the flu or stubbing his toe or whatever was the problem at that particular moment.
Andrew grinned, pleased he had sufficiently annoyed Craig. He knew exactly what was going to happen next, and so did Craig.
May 30th 2009 – ‘breakfast in bed’
The Chaser – Dom/Chas
Dom woke, thin slivers of morning light streaming into his room like deadly lasers. He groaned. He did not want to be awake. Not being sick would be a bonus.
Three weeks he'd had this cold, with varying degrees of intensity. He was really quite over it by now. He felt he should have swine flu by now, at least that would give him a reason to be locked in his house for a week.
There was a loud crash then and a series of curse words muttered by a very familiar voice. Someone else was in his? - oh, right, Chas. Now he remembered. Chas had insisted on staying over so he could look after him. Chas had always been difficult to dissuade once he got an idea in his head. He wondered what Chas was up to, but figured he was too tired to bother getting up. He'd find out eventually. Indeed, a few minutes later, Chas poked his head in and grinned at him.
"Morning, Dommy. Thought you'd rather have brekky in here," he said, pushing the door open with his elbow as he entered with a tray laden with food, not all of which Dom would have considered the sort of food for fighting off a cold.
"Uh, thanks Chas. Did you have to make so much noise in the process?" Dom said.
"Oh, sorry, I tripped over a saucepan," Chas said apologetically. He set the tray down on the bedside table and slipped into bed beside him.
"You trying to get sick too, hey?" Dom said.
"Nah, Super Chassy never gets sick," Chas said, puffing his chest somewhat.
Dom smiled at his posing. "C'mere, I'll give you a big wet thankyou kiss," he said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Hey, hey! I've got TV to do! I can't be poorly! The people must see my beautiful face!" Chas protested.
"Hey, I wasn't the one who invited you over, you know," Dom said.
"Best friends shouldn't need to invite each other. I'm just looking out for you," Chas said. "See? I made you wog breakfast. That'll sort that cold out."
Chas picked up the tray and handed it over to Dom, letting it rest on his lap.
"You know this is more food than even I need in a morning, yes?" Dom said.
"It's not all for you, it's for me too. Now hand me a bowl and let's get eating. I'm starving after trying to navigate your kitchen at 6am in the dark," Chas said.
Dom duly supplied Chas with food. At least he wasn't bouncing around. He was remarkably subdued for once. Perhaps he didn't want to ruin the breakfast he'd made by being too energetic in bed.
"Thanks, mate. This is good, isn't it?" Chas said between mouthfuls of food.
"You're a better cook than Chris, that's for sure," Dom said.
"It's because I'm ethnic. Chris only looks ethnic," Chas said.
Dom was sure it made sense to Chas and decided against arguing with his logic this early in the morning. He sat back against his pillows and ate, thankful for Chas' efforts. He was even feeling a little cheerful now. That was one of the things about Chas. He always knew how to cheer his mates up, even if it involved crashing around his kitchen and making him breakfast in bed when one of his mates was sick.
June 1st 2009 – ‘death and glory’
AusPolitics - Rudd/Hockey
Death and glory, rise victorious, as the battlefield bleeds. I take up my sword and charge. You, who is tearing our nation to ruins, you will be slain to protect the people. Labor will never be allowed to destroy us, not while I stand, a vanguard to your evil intent.
You, Rudd, are a vampire, feeding off the blood of your citizens as they fawn at your feet and cry for more. Always more, always. You opened the banks and let the people in. You will leave us ruined and our children will be paying off your mistakes for decades.
A slayer, I come to destroy you, to drive this stake through your dead heart. You don't care about this country, you would see it ruined with your recklessness!
But not I. Not while I still stand. I sharpen my sword, carve my stakes, collect my crucifx. I take up arms against you, demon, and I will drive you back to the pits of Hell from whenst you came.
Begone, foul demon! You lying heathen! All your spin and lies account for nothing! You have forgotten what it means to speak the truth, and you suffer for it. The people don't know what you're really like, how cruel you can be. I've seen it. I've seen the way you twist truth, punish dissent and squeeze the life out of everyone who wrongs you.
Don't say a word, harlot. It ends tonight. Kneel at my feet and beg for mercy, you who have destroyed us all. I bear the scars of your cruelty and I can carry it no longer. Let me cut that filthy tongue out, trample on your dead heart, stamp out that insidious grin I am taunted with.
You will never succeed while I live; I will take your life and rise in glory. They won't doubt me then, never again. I shall stand atop the House in glory, your head underfoot. I shall be crowned and you shall perish and pay for the mess you have created!
June 2nd 2009 - "Run quick, they're behind us / Didn't think we'd ever make it / This close to safety in one piece"
Original Fiction: The Gay Parade
The room was dark. The two boys huddled together, trying to keep warm. It had been two weeks since they'd left home. It had become too dangerous to stay. Everything they owned was sealed in an old biscuit tin. Thankfully, the soldiers hadn't come to their town yet; they'd been able to take their documents with them as they fled. Still, that didn't guarantee safety.
"D'you think they'll find us here?" one breathed.
"I don't want to think about it," said the other.
They remained still and silent, listening for the ominous footsteps of the soldiers that were rounding up anyone who wasn't normal. One of the two boys had been caught having sex with a girl; he had escaped, but it had been the trigger for them to run.
It sounded like thunder down that narrow alleyway. Pink and purple light bounced off the bricks and spilled in through the boarded up windows. The boys clutched each other tightly, aware of the irony of the situation.
There was a banging on the door. It was being forced open. The younger of the two boys shut his eyes, trying to hide his tears. His lips barely moved as he prayed for rescue.
"You're clearly not that fabulous, or you'd be out here by now. Come on, the parade awaits you," came a loud voice into the darkness.
Footsteps came closer as the soldiers fanned out to search the place. There was the distinctive sound of heels, sharp and deadly, clicking on the concrete. The sound of the gun being cocked. The wave of light crossing the room. Neither boy dared breath.
The sound of broken glass underfoot cracked into the silence. The younger boy imagined it was his bones being crushed under their deadly feet.
"Any sign of them yet?" came the hissing voice over the radio.
"Negative, sir. Place looks deserted, and could do with redecoration. If they were here, they're not now," the soldier's voice said, sounding far too close for comfort. The soldier spoke with the typical lilt all the soldiers had.
"Well, we can't stay here all day. We've got the rest of the lane to search. Fall back and keep at it. Mark this place for demolition," came the reply.
"Yes, sir," the soldier said.
Footsteps retreated, and the soldiers left. The boys dared not move until they were sure the soldiers had gone. They breathed with relief at managing to escape yet again.
"We've got to get out of here. This place'll be gone soon," the older boy whispered.
"You got lucky, didn't you?"
Another voice interrupted the silence. The two boys looked up to see another older boy looking out from a trapdoor. He must be one of the rebels the boys had heard about. He was dressed in Army fatigues and had a rifle slung over one shoulder.
"Who are you?" the younger boy said.
"Your best friend. Now get down here before they come back," the stranger said.
The boys needed no encouragement. Making sure they had their possessions with them, they crawled towards the trapdoor and followed him to safety.
June 3rd 2009 – “Computer issues”
The Chaser – Andrew/Charles
Charles jabbed at the ESC key. It did nothing. He frowned. He was usually good at fixing his petulant computer, but today it was resisting all attempts at recovery. The screen had frozen and the mouse was refusing to move.
"Bastard. What the fuck's wrong with you this time?" he cursed.
"Have you tried turning it on and off again?" Andrew said, trying to be helpful.
"Yes, I bloody have. I think even the restart button's broken. Stupid thing," Charles said.
Andrew crawled under the desk and tugged the cord out from the power point. Sure, it might make the computer blow up, but it might fix it too. It was worth a shot.
Charles watched as the screen blanked and switched off. He frowned again. He really should get a new computer, but he hadn't had time. Perhaps now was the moment he threw the bloody thing out the window and just got himself a new one.
"I can't believe you still put up with this thing," came Andrew's voice from under the desk.
"I keep meaning to replace it, but I never have time. Just plug it back in and we'll see if it's working again," Charles said.
Andrew obliged, making sure it was properly in before flicking the switch. Nothing happened. Charles gingerly pressed the power button. Grudgingly, the computer powered up, making a noise that very much said "I would rather strangle you with my cables than work for you".
Andrew got to his knees, poking his head out from under the desk to see if it had indeed worked.
"You know that doesn't sound good," Andrew said.
"I had noticed that, yes."
Charles sighed. Andrew turned to face him.
"I think you need a distraction," Andrew said, wrapping his arms around Charles' shoulders.
"Oh yes? What sort of a distraction did you have in mind?" Charles said.
Andrew merely grinned and kissed him. He'd fix the computer later. Charles was far more interesting than a computer that refused to work.
June 4th 2009 – “lost in translation”
The Chaser - Wrong Way, Go Back
Perhaps they'd been doing this too long. Perhaps they'd crossed the line so far they were deep in enemy territory. They couldn't have misjudged a sketch as badly as that. How had it gone so badly? Craig wasn't entirely sure. In hindsight, perhaps it should've been caught before they went and filmed it.
He lay back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Well, it was too late now. They'd created a shitstorm in a teacup and now they had a two week holiday. At least they hadn't been axed.
Julian was deeply engrossed in a book. Chris was trying to look apologetic. Andrew was standing by the window, lost in thought. Even Chas was quiet for once.
"Think it's time to give it all up?" Craig said, breaking the silence.
"What, just because some people completely missed the point of that sketch? You've gone soft, Reuy," Chas said.
"You don't have kids, Chas. It's different when you have kids," Craig said. "Maybe we're just so used to black humour it doesn't bother us anymore."
"We're comedians. Of course we have dark senses of humour. We have to, to do the stuff we do," Julian said.
"This whole thing is utter bullshit," Craig said, crossing his arms across his chest.
"That's better, mate. Get angry. It's not like we meant to piss them all off, but you can never tell how some people will react," Chas said.
"I think we should've seen that one though. We were making fun of terminally ill kids, apparently," Andrew said, keeping his back to them.
"We were not. That wasn't what we were trying to say at all. Are people really that thick?" Craig said.
"They are when they look to Today Tonight and ACA "tell them what to believe," Chas said.
"Ooh, harsh, Chassy. Two week ban, mate," Craig said, slight grin crossing his lips.
"At least you haven't been getting death threats," Chris said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Yeah, sorry, Chris, we were going to tell you before, but, well, the shit hit the fan," Craig said. "Still bitter that everyone hates you?"
"Shut up, Reucassel," Chris said, turning away from him.
"Yeah, you left me to face the media, Chris, you coward," Craig said.
"I've already apologised for that, okay? Stop bringing it up," Chris said.
"We've been apologising for the last three days. Give it a rest, will you?" Chas said. "I wasn't aware that was licence to start bitching at each other even more than we normally do."
"It's not. Just accept it and let's move on. There's no use in arguing, not when the decision came from above. The more we make a fight of it, the worse off we'll be. Let's just concentrate on finding less offensive things to make jokes about for when we return," Julian said.
"We are not becoming pissweak comedians, Julian. That's not what we do," Craig said.
"I never said that, but it would be nice to not get axed, okay?" Julian said.
Craig sighed. Julian did have a point. He had never felt quite so bad before. Not bad enough to stop, but bad enough to get up and keep fighting. Then again, Craig was stubborn like that.
Some crossposted to
chaserslash. CBF posting to wolfanfics. *is lazy*May 15th – “the middle of the night”
The Chaser – Craig/Andrew
It was the soft strum of a guitar that woke Craig. He sighed. He didn't need to open his eyes to know his bed was half empty. Andrew must be awake. Reluctantly, he sat up to see what Andrew was doing. He wasn't in the room.
"Ahh, shit. At least he moved this time," Craig muttered.
He left his warm bed behind and quietly followed the sound of the guitar. He found Andrew perched on the couch on his back verandah. Craig joined him, looking down at him blearily.
"I'm assuming you're on the verge of creating the best song ever written, yes?" Craig said.
Andrew stopped and looked up at him, shocked at his appearance. He hadn't heard him approach. "Oh. Craig. Hi. Um, yeah, something like that. Woke up with music in my head. Needed to play it."
"Right. Any chance of you coming back to play me?" Craig said.
"Not now. I need to get this melody right," Andrew muttered.
Craig sighed. "Right. Well, you keep serenading the moon or whatever it is you're doing. I'm going back to bed. Night."
Andrew smiled sweetly as he played the end of the tune, pleased with how it sounded. He let the notes hang in the air.
"Whatever. Have fun, Hansen," Craig said.
Craig left him to it and shuffled back to bed. Soon after, he heard Andrew begin playing again. Ignoring the soft melody, Craig went back to sleep, figuring Andrew wouldn't be back in bed again that night.
May 21 – “Caught in the act”
The Chaser: Chas/Julian
“And what are you up to, Chas?"
It was the way he said it that made Chas think that perhaps Julian wasn't in the best of moods. He had been digging around in Julian's desk, looking for that elusive set of handcuffs he knew Julian kept. He thought it was time Julian was punished for not letting him play at work, which is what he wanted the handcuffs for. However, they were nowhere to be found. He turned and faced him, disguising his intentions.
"Nothing, Jules. Just looking for you," Chas said.
"In my desk drawers?" Julian said.
"Well, you never know, Julian. One should never rule out the possibility of someone creating a shrink ray to make you into a much more manageable size," Chas said.
"Oh, really?" Julian approached him, making sure his height was apparent.
"Open your mind, Jules. It could happen," Chas said, peering up at him.
"Sure it could. What were you really up to?" Julian said.
"None of your business, since you're being so mean. I'm gonna go see if Andrew's free. You can stay here and pray that shrink ray doesn't return," Chas said, pushing past him.
"Oh, come on. Don't I at least get a kiss before you go?" Julian said, turning towards him.
"Tell me where those damn handcuffs are, and you can have as many kisses as you like," Chas said.
"Not on your life," Julian said.
"Alright. Your loss. I'll see you later, Jules," Chas said, bounding off to find Andrew.
Julian sighed and perched on his desk. He really needed to get a lock on his office door. That would stop Chas searching for those damn handcuffs.
He walked over to a nondescript cardboard box sitting on top of one of the filing cabinets and opened it. Inside sat the handcuffs. Julian decided it was best if they were not here anymore and slipped them inside his bag, making sure they were well-hidden.
Julian was, however, unaware of Chas peering silently and invisibly into the room. Now he knew where those cuffs were. When Julian left, he would sneak in and steal them and then Julian would be sorry.
May 26th 2009 – Hiding in plain sight
The Move/ELO – Jeff Lynne/Bev Bevan
I met Bev through Roy after he finally coaxed me into joining The Move. I admired Bev’s skill. I could never drum like that, no matter how much I practiced. In hindsight, that night shouldn’t have happened, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. I wasn’t as hesitant about Bev as I had been about Roy. All I did was drag him around a corner, where we were hidden from sight, and kissed him. Kinda set off everything else, really. It didn’t matter that he was older than me. We just sort of fell together in a way that probably wasn’t wise at the time. We were too caught up in the moment to care.
We left Roy and the party behind and ended up back at Bev’s. What happened, well, happened. We were just kissing on his sofa. I went to, you know, get in his pants, but he stopped me. I pulled back, wondering if I’d read his affections wrong.
“Is this alright? You do want this, don’t you?” I said.
“I do, it’s not that, it’s just… Look, I’m not what you think I am,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
He shifted and leaned in to whisper in my ear. He told me something I had not even imagined. “I was born a girl.”
I sat back and looked at him. He looked nothing like a girl. A bit effeminate, sure, but that was kinda how guys were back then, y’know? Girly hair, girly pants, it was just how things were. You could get away with that sort of thing in the 60s, if you were smart. I looked at Bev again. I just couldn’t see it. I brushed my fingers through his hair. It was soft and dark and flopped around his eyes.
“Nah, you were not, mate. I know a girl when I see one, and you ain’t it,” I said. He even had stubble. Girls don’t have stubble, and his body was all masculine.
“You know, I didn’t want to have to do this, but.” He paused and finished off what I had started, undoin’ his pants so I could slip my hand inside. He was right. He had been born a girl. “Believe me now?”
I took my hand away. “Yeah, just a bit. So, you’re a bloke now? Why?”
“I had to. I couldn’t stay a girl. It was too painful. Wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, of course, it was all done quiet. Mum didn’t want anyone finding out. But I’m happy like this. We’re still okay, aren’t we?” He looked at me, as if worried I was going to freak out.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. I never would’ve guessed, you know,” I said. I took his hand and squeezed gently. I was trying to reassure him I was okay with it.
“Thanks. Don’t mention it to anyone, will ya? I prefer as few people to know as possible,” he said.
“I won’t. You’re quite handsome for a boy, you know,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ve been told that.”
“Can I kiss you again?”
“Sure.”
It didn’t even matter anymore. He looked too much like a man for me to think he was anything else. I kissed him, gently. I felt his fingers in my hair. I shivered.
Being with him that night was weird. That’s not to say I didn’t, y’know, enjoy meself, but it wasn’t something I’d ever done before. It was also the start of a long friendship as we brought Electric Light Orchestra to life.
I think, perhaps, it was what drove Roy to leave. We’d grown apart and Roy and I couldn’t agree on where to go with it. In the end, he gave it to me and left. I never really talked to him after that. Then again, I had Bev and the band and life was good.
May 28th 2009 - "Do you remember / How you were gonna stay free? / But they had plans for you / And things to do"
The Chaser (RPS) – Chris Taylor (uni-era)
It was late December, 1991. Chris looked at the letter on the kitchen table in front of him. It was from Sydney University. He didn't need to open it to know what it contained.
"Well, aren't you going to open it?" his father said.
"What would be the point? I know what it says," Chris said, trying not to sound spiteful.
"Become a mind-reader, have you? Just open it," his father said.
Chris sighed. He was in no mood to fight with his father. He opened the letter and read what it said. He had been right. They were offering him Law, and a place at St Paul's College, where his father had lived when he was at Sydney Uni.
"I got into Law, dad, just like you wanted," Chris said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"Good man. A fine career," his father said. He, like everyone before him, had been a lawyer. He wanted nothing more than that this tradition continued with his sons.
Chris thought his father looked like he was preening his feathers. He could already imagine the way he'd be introduced from now on. He cringed at his lack of courage in placing Journalism as his first preference. He suddenly wanted to be sick.
"Yeah, I know," Chris said. He didn't sound convinced. "I-I'm gonna go read for a bit," he said, wanting to be away from his father's glare.
He didn't wait for a reply. He took the letter and retreated to his room. All his life he had fought against this career choice. He didn't want to be a lawyer. He wanted to do comedy, or failing that, journalism. He had told his father this many times before, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.
Chris shoved the letter in his desk drawer and lay on his bed. He was a coward. He should've stood up for himself. Instead, he accepted the decision with a fatalistic inevitability. There was nothing he could do. If he dared change his course, he'd be in trouble.
He buried his face in his arms and cried. His fate had been sealed. He wanted to run away and do his own thing, but he knew he never would, because earning his father's respect was more important to him. He didn't want to be a disappointment, no matter how much he knew that would happen anyway, no matter what he did.
May 29th 2009 – “Singing in the rain”
The Chaser – Andrew Hansen/Craig Reucassel
It wasn't that he was cold necessarily. Running around dancing and singing in the rain had warmed him up considerably. It was the fact he was currently wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt in the rain that was the problem. Okay, so maybe he was a little cold. Okay, maybe a lot. It wasn't his fault he started shivering as soon as the temperature dropped below 20C. At least they had finally finished filming. He could head back into the warmth now. His body had never been good at keeping heat.
He hadn't even managed to bring a jumper with him. There had been no time, since the rain had turned up so suddenly. They only had time to run back to the ABC, change, find Chas, and run out again before the rain stopped.
Craig pounced on him then, his wet raincoat doing nothing to warm him up.
"You alright, Hansen? You look a little pale," he said, wrapping his arms around Andrew's shoulders.
"That's because I'm cold, Reucassel. You aren't helping," Andrew said.
"Good thing we're not far from work. I can take you back and dunk you under a hot shower," Craig said.
"At least you've got a jacket," Andrew grumbled.
"Poor baby. Better get you inside then," Craig said.
And with that, Craig scooped Andrew up in his arms and ran towards the entrance. Craig couldn't pick anyone else up like that. Only Andrew was tiny enough to carry around like a baby. Craig put him down when they got to the door, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"There. That'll be $50 thanks," Craig said.
"You are an obnoxious prick," Andrew said. "Race you inside?"
Andrew had started running before Craig could protest. Though never one to lose, Craig chased after him anyway and tackled him onto one of the lounges inside, pinning him down. Andrew grinned.
"No more fucking running, Hansen. Come on, we've got stuff to do," Craig said.
"Spoilsport," Andrew said. If there hadn't been people around, he'd have licked his cheek.
Craig got to his feet and dragged Andrew with him. "Come on. You need to warm up, remember?"
"$50 if you carry me again?" Andrew said, hopefully.
"Not on your life. Carry yourself, Hansen," Craig said. "Or, I dunno, get Julian to carry you," he said as he saw Chas and Julian catching up with them.
"Andrew, stop being a princess. Charles isn't here to sweep you off your feet again," Chas said, interjecting on Julian's behalf.
"Bloody Charles. I really should keep him on a leash or something," Andrew said, making a mental note to mention this next time he saw Charles.
"So that wasn't your leash he used when he was trying to get himself tortured by American soldiers?" Craig said.
"He did that on his own. That was none of my doing," Andrew said.
"Just get him out of here, Craig. The sooner he warms up, the sooner he'll stop whingeing about it," Julian said.
"With pleasure, Jules," Craig said. "Come on, princess."
Craig took Andrew's wrist and pulled him away. Andrew had an irritating capacity to whinge about everything injury or disease he had managed to obtain. Better not give him a chance than risk a whole afternoon of editing with him complaining about being too cold or getting the flu or stubbing his toe or whatever was the problem at that particular moment.
Andrew grinned, pleased he had sufficiently annoyed Craig. He knew exactly what was going to happen next, and so did Craig.
May 30th 2009 – ‘breakfast in bed’
The Chaser – Dom/Chas
Dom woke, thin slivers of morning light streaming into his room like deadly lasers. He groaned. He did not want to be awake. Not being sick would be a bonus.
Three weeks he'd had this cold, with varying degrees of intensity. He was really quite over it by now. He felt he should have swine flu by now, at least that would give him a reason to be locked in his house for a week.
There was a loud crash then and a series of curse words muttered by a very familiar voice. Someone else was in his? - oh, right, Chas. Now he remembered. Chas had insisted on staying over so he could look after him. Chas had always been difficult to dissuade once he got an idea in his head. He wondered what Chas was up to, but figured he was too tired to bother getting up. He'd find out eventually. Indeed, a few minutes later, Chas poked his head in and grinned at him.
"Morning, Dommy. Thought you'd rather have brekky in here," he said, pushing the door open with his elbow as he entered with a tray laden with food, not all of which Dom would have considered the sort of food for fighting off a cold.
"Uh, thanks Chas. Did you have to make so much noise in the process?" Dom said.
"Oh, sorry, I tripped over a saucepan," Chas said apologetically. He set the tray down on the bedside table and slipped into bed beside him.
"You trying to get sick too, hey?" Dom said.
"Nah, Super Chassy never gets sick," Chas said, puffing his chest somewhat.
Dom smiled at his posing. "C'mere, I'll give you a big wet thankyou kiss," he said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Hey, hey! I've got TV to do! I can't be poorly! The people must see my beautiful face!" Chas protested.
"Hey, I wasn't the one who invited you over, you know," Dom said.
"Best friends shouldn't need to invite each other. I'm just looking out for you," Chas said. "See? I made you wog breakfast. That'll sort that cold out."
Chas picked up the tray and handed it over to Dom, letting it rest on his lap.
"You know this is more food than even I need in a morning, yes?" Dom said.
"It's not all for you, it's for me too. Now hand me a bowl and let's get eating. I'm starving after trying to navigate your kitchen at 6am in the dark," Chas said.
Dom duly supplied Chas with food. At least he wasn't bouncing around. He was remarkably subdued for once. Perhaps he didn't want to ruin the breakfast he'd made by being too energetic in bed.
"Thanks, mate. This is good, isn't it?" Chas said between mouthfuls of food.
"You're a better cook than Chris, that's for sure," Dom said.
"It's because I'm ethnic. Chris only looks ethnic," Chas said.
Dom was sure it made sense to Chas and decided against arguing with his logic this early in the morning. He sat back against his pillows and ate, thankful for Chas' efforts. He was even feeling a little cheerful now. That was one of the things about Chas. He always knew how to cheer his mates up, even if it involved crashing around his kitchen and making him breakfast in bed when one of his mates was sick.
June 1st 2009 – ‘death and glory’
AusPolitics - Rudd/Hockey
Death and glory, rise victorious, as the battlefield bleeds. I take up my sword and charge. You, who is tearing our nation to ruins, you will be slain to protect the people. Labor will never be allowed to destroy us, not while I stand, a vanguard to your evil intent.
You, Rudd, are a vampire, feeding off the blood of your citizens as they fawn at your feet and cry for more. Always more, always. You opened the banks and let the people in. You will leave us ruined and our children will be paying off your mistakes for decades.
A slayer, I come to destroy you, to drive this stake through your dead heart. You don't care about this country, you would see it ruined with your recklessness!
But not I. Not while I still stand. I sharpen my sword, carve my stakes, collect my crucifx. I take up arms against you, demon, and I will drive you back to the pits of Hell from whenst you came.
Begone, foul demon! You lying heathen! All your spin and lies account for nothing! You have forgotten what it means to speak the truth, and you suffer for it. The people don't know what you're really like, how cruel you can be. I've seen it. I've seen the way you twist truth, punish dissent and squeeze the life out of everyone who wrongs you.
Don't say a word, harlot. It ends tonight. Kneel at my feet and beg for mercy, you who have destroyed us all. I bear the scars of your cruelty and I can carry it no longer. Let me cut that filthy tongue out, trample on your dead heart, stamp out that insidious grin I am taunted with.
You will never succeed while I live; I will take your life and rise in glory. They won't doubt me then, never again. I shall stand atop the House in glory, your head underfoot. I shall be crowned and you shall perish and pay for the mess you have created!
June 2nd 2009 - "Run quick, they're behind us / Didn't think we'd ever make it / This close to safety in one piece"
Original Fiction: The Gay Parade
The room was dark. The two boys huddled together, trying to keep warm. It had been two weeks since they'd left home. It had become too dangerous to stay. Everything they owned was sealed in an old biscuit tin. Thankfully, the soldiers hadn't come to their town yet; they'd been able to take their documents with them as they fled. Still, that didn't guarantee safety.
"D'you think they'll find us here?" one breathed.
"I don't want to think about it," said the other.
They remained still and silent, listening for the ominous footsteps of the soldiers that were rounding up anyone who wasn't normal. One of the two boys had been caught having sex with a girl; he had escaped, but it had been the trigger for them to run.
It sounded like thunder down that narrow alleyway. Pink and purple light bounced off the bricks and spilled in through the boarded up windows. The boys clutched each other tightly, aware of the irony of the situation.
There was a banging on the door. It was being forced open. The younger of the two boys shut his eyes, trying to hide his tears. His lips barely moved as he prayed for rescue.
"You're clearly not that fabulous, or you'd be out here by now. Come on, the parade awaits you," came a loud voice into the darkness.
Footsteps came closer as the soldiers fanned out to search the place. There was the distinctive sound of heels, sharp and deadly, clicking on the concrete. The sound of the gun being cocked. The wave of light crossing the room. Neither boy dared breath.
The sound of broken glass underfoot cracked into the silence. The younger boy imagined it was his bones being crushed under their deadly feet.
"Any sign of them yet?" came the hissing voice over the radio.
"Negative, sir. Place looks deserted, and could do with redecoration. If they were here, they're not now," the soldier's voice said, sounding far too close for comfort. The soldier spoke with the typical lilt all the soldiers had.
"Well, we can't stay here all day. We've got the rest of the lane to search. Fall back and keep at it. Mark this place for demolition," came the reply.
"Yes, sir," the soldier said.
Footsteps retreated, and the soldiers left. The boys dared not move until they were sure the soldiers had gone. They breathed with relief at managing to escape yet again.
"We've got to get out of here. This place'll be gone soon," the older boy whispered.
"You got lucky, didn't you?"
Another voice interrupted the silence. The two boys looked up to see another older boy looking out from a trapdoor. He must be one of the rebels the boys had heard about. He was dressed in Army fatigues and had a rifle slung over one shoulder.
"Who are you?" the younger boy said.
"Your best friend. Now get down here before they come back," the stranger said.
The boys needed no encouragement. Making sure they had their possessions with them, they crawled towards the trapdoor and followed him to safety.
June 3rd 2009 – “Computer issues”
The Chaser – Andrew/Charles
Charles jabbed at the ESC key. It did nothing. He frowned. He was usually good at fixing his petulant computer, but today it was resisting all attempts at recovery. The screen had frozen and the mouse was refusing to move.
"Bastard. What the fuck's wrong with you this time?" he cursed.
"Have you tried turning it on and off again?" Andrew said, trying to be helpful.
"Yes, I bloody have. I think even the restart button's broken. Stupid thing," Charles said.
Andrew crawled under the desk and tugged the cord out from the power point. Sure, it might make the computer blow up, but it might fix it too. It was worth a shot.
Charles watched as the screen blanked and switched off. He frowned again. He really should get a new computer, but he hadn't had time. Perhaps now was the moment he threw the bloody thing out the window and just got himself a new one.
"I can't believe you still put up with this thing," came Andrew's voice from under the desk.
"I keep meaning to replace it, but I never have time. Just plug it back in and we'll see if it's working again," Charles said.
Andrew obliged, making sure it was properly in before flicking the switch. Nothing happened. Charles gingerly pressed the power button. Grudgingly, the computer powered up, making a noise that very much said "I would rather strangle you with my cables than work for you".
Andrew got to his knees, poking his head out from under the desk to see if it had indeed worked.
"You know that doesn't sound good," Andrew said.
"I had noticed that, yes."
Charles sighed. Andrew turned to face him.
"I think you need a distraction," Andrew said, wrapping his arms around Charles' shoulders.
"Oh yes? What sort of a distraction did you have in mind?" Charles said.
Andrew merely grinned and kissed him. He'd fix the computer later. Charles was far more interesting than a computer that refused to work.
June 4th 2009 – “lost in translation”
The Chaser - Wrong Way, Go Back
Perhaps they'd been doing this too long. Perhaps they'd crossed the line so far they were deep in enemy territory. They couldn't have misjudged a sketch as badly as that. How had it gone so badly? Craig wasn't entirely sure. In hindsight, perhaps it should've been caught before they went and filmed it.
He lay back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Well, it was too late now. They'd created a shitstorm in a teacup and now they had a two week holiday. At least they hadn't been axed.
Julian was deeply engrossed in a book. Chris was trying to look apologetic. Andrew was standing by the window, lost in thought. Even Chas was quiet for once.
"Think it's time to give it all up?" Craig said, breaking the silence.
"What, just because some people completely missed the point of that sketch? You've gone soft, Reuy," Chas said.
"You don't have kids, Chas. It's different when you have kids," Craig said. "Maybe we're just so used to black humour it doesn't bother us anymore."
"We're comedians. Of course we have dark senses of humour. We have to, to do the stuff we do," Julian said.
"This whole thing is utter bullshit," Craig said, crossing his arms across his chest.
"That's better, mate. Get angry. It's not like we meant to piss them all off, but you can never tell how some people will react," Chas said.
"I think we should've seen that one though. We were making fun of terminally ill kids, apparently," Andrew said, keeping his back to them.
"We were not. That wasn't what we were trying to say at all. Are people really that thick?" Craig said.
"They are when they look to Today Tonight and ACA "tell them what to believe," Chas said.
"Ooh, harsh, Chassy. Two week ban, mate," Craig said, slight grin crossing his lips.
"At least you haven't been getting death threats," Chris said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Yeah, sorry, Chris, we were going to tell you before, but, well, the shit hit the fan," Craig said. "Still bitter that everyone hates you?"
"Shut up, Reucassel," Chris said, turning away from him.
"Yeah, you left me to face the media, Chris, you coward," Craig said.
"I've already apologised for that, okay? Stop bringing it up," Chris said.
"We've been apologising for the last three days. Give it a rest, will you?" Chas said. "I wasn't aware that was licence to start bitching at each other even more than we normally do."
"It's not. Just accept it and let's move on. There's no use in arguing, not when the decision came from above. The more we make a fight of it, the worse off we'll be. Let's just concentrate on finding less offensive things to make jokes about for when we return," Julian said.
"We are not becoming pissweak comedians, Julian. That's not what we do," Craig said.
"I never said that, but it would be nice to not get axed, okay?" Julian said.
Craig sighed. Julian did have a point. He had never felt quite so bad before. Not bad enough to stop, but bad enough to get up and keep fighting. Then again, Craig was stubborn like that.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 05:14 pm (UTC)But is he a SPARKLY vampire? XD You know, I vaguely recall Rudd/Hockey being discussed in terms of Twilight at some point between us...
The last was one was good. Nice to get your feelings out isn't it?
(no subject)
From: