[Fic] Fear in handful of Dust 1/1
Well I’m new and bearing a gift. Actually it’s my first try at BL, never thought I would do it but here I am.
Title: Fear in a handful of dust
Author: yanjara
Rating: PG13
Pairing: slight Denny/Alan
Warnings: not a happy piece, Character Death
Summary: About promises…
At the end there had been no plug to pull nor any gun to shoot off. A simple heart attack claimed off all that had been Denny Crane.
The service was a grand party, with a jazz band in the background, playing ‘Who wants to live forever’ over and over, some hired tight-assed cocktail waitresses and Shirley leading the procession, face smudged but copping, strong.
There had been so many people to pay their last respect, an seemingly unending stream of pilgrims to the last resting place of Denny Crane.
At one point the head of the procession stopped at a ‘bigger-than-life’ tombstone, guns crossed, a sea of flowers… and no urn.
Shirley starred spechlessly at the blank, white marmor plate beneath the giant monument. In one smooth motion she spun around, her face purple, sifting through the mass of guests, when her eyes locked with Denises and Brads, having a nice chat on the side.
Her voice was murderous. “Where is he?!”
“…He stayed back at the office, said something about an urgent matter-“
Before Denise could say anything further, Shirley had already vanished in a throng of people.
She finally found him on ‘their’ balcony.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Alan?!” He didn’t look from his quiet watchers place at the ballustrade and if he noticed her at all, he gave no indication what so ever.
Finally she stepped up to him. His face haggard and worn, he clutched the little ceramic urn to his chest like a lifeline.
Shirley drew a deep breath.
“You certainly realise that this is a dire reason to fire you, don’t you? What the hell did you hope to accomplish with abducting Denny’s ashes from the graveyard. Although I realize there may only be a few sins, Denny didn’t commit in his lifetime, denying him a real funeral…”
The quiet, raspy voice frightened her more than anything else
“He once told me, he wanted his ashes to be strewn over this balcony… well I spoke to him about the possible environmental effects… but, you know, he’s… Denny Crane.”
He answered her unspoken question with a frown.
“Well, I suppose, my fear of loneliness prevented me from fulfilling this last request.”
When Alan finally looked up at her, really looked at her, Shirley suddenly felt as if she could understand at least a little bit of the bonds between these two men, friends.
“When he is gone… what’s left there?” He indicated to the balcony, the memories laid out before him.
Shirleys voice was steely when she eventually asked.
“Who are you, Alan?”
And he looked around, clearly searching for something, maybe the answer, but his eyes were certain, with a kind of desperate strenght to it, as he quirked a wry smile.
“I’m a flamingo.”
Title: Fear in a handful of dust
Author: yanjara
Rating: PG13
Pairing: slight Denny/Alan
Warnings: not a happy piece, Character Death
Summary: About promises…
At the end there had been no plug to pull nor any gun to shoot off. A simple heart attack claimed off all that had been Denny Crane.
The service was a grand party, with a jazz band in the background, playing ‘Who wants to live forever’ over and over, some hired tight-assed cocktail waitresses and Shirley leading the procession, face smudged but copping, strong.
There had been so many people to pay their last respect, an seemingly unending stream of pilgrims to the last resting place of Denny Crane.
At one point the head of the procession stopped at a ‘bigger-than-life’ tombstone, guns crossed, a sea of flowers… and no urn.
Shirley starred spechlessly at the blank, white marmor plate beneath the giant monument. In one smooth motion she spun around, her face purple, sifting through the mass of guests, when her eyes locked with Denises and Brads, having a nice chat on the side.
Her voice was murderous. “Where is he?!”
“…He stayed back at the office, said something about an urgent matter-“
Before Denise could say anything further, Shirley had already vanished in a throng of people.
She finally found him on ‘their’ balcony.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Alan?!” He didn’t look from his quiet watchers place at the ballustrade and if he noticed her at all, he gave no indication what so ever.
Finally she stepped up to him. His face haggard and worn, he clutched the little ceramic urn to his chest like a lifeline.
Shirley drew a deep breath.
“You certainly realise that this is a dire reason to fire you, don’t you? What the hell did you hope to accomplish with abducting Denny’s ashes from the graveyard. Although I realize there may only be a few sins, Denny didn’t commit in his lifetime, denying him a real funeral…”
The quiet, raspy voice frightened her more than anything else
“He once told me, he wanted his ashes to be strewn over this balcony… well I spoke to him about the possible environmental effects… but, you know, he’s… Denny Crane.”
He answered her unspoken question with a frown.
“Well, I suppose, my fear of loneliness prevented me from fulfilling this last request.”
When Alan finally looked up at her, really looked at her, Shirley suddenly felt as if she could understand at least a little bit of the bonds between these two men, friends.
“When he is gone… what’s left there?” He indicated to the balcony, the memories laid out before him.
Shirleys voice was steely when she eventually asked.
“Who are you, Alan?”
And he looked around, clearly searching for something, maybe the answer, but his eyes were certain, with a kind of desperate strenght to it, as he quirked a wry smile.
“I’m a flamingo.”