Entry 2 (Your Own Special Song)
Title: Your Own Special Song
Entry Number: 02
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files (specifically, The Queen of Peru episode)
Rating: K/G (a harmless ghost). Last year I did one humorous fic in the challenge; this may be the only one this year. We'll see.
Genre: Supernatural, Humor
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2,301
By Lucky_Ladybug
It was certainly not Ginger and Lou’s typical sort of case.
Not that they really had a typical sort of case. But when they were visiting a college campus to meet with young video game developers in the graduate student program and a very bizarre, discordant sort of music wafted down the hall, they had to stop and listen in bewilderment.
“What,” Ginger said in complete, befuddled irritation, “is that?”
The dean colored. “It’s . . . um . . . just someone practicing in the lounge,” he stammered. “Nothing to worry about, Gentlemen.”
They were willing to accept that simple explanation. But as they walked past said lounge, the door was open enough that they could see a violin suspended in mid-air, as though held by an unseen person. Another unseen hand worked the bow in a very off-key, untrained manner.
Ginger stiffened. Lou’s jaw dropped. The dean facepalmed.
“Is this a bloody joke?” Ginger frowned.
“No, I’m afraid,” the dean moaned.
“A demonstration of your special effects department,” Ginger tried again, clinging to some hope of a sane explanation.
“Not at all, though I wish it were.” The dean mopped his brow. “Please, Gentlemen, may we move on?”
“Yes,” Ginger said, wanting to get as far away from the lounge as possible.
Lou thoroughly concurred.
Even far down the corridor, however, the unpleasant, grating music still met their ears.
“We just can’t get away from the ghosts!” Lou exclaimed to Ginger in dismay.
“When have we ever been able to?” Ginger retorted.
The dean peered at them. “Pardon me, but are you saying you’ve had supernatural encounters before?” Hope glimmered in his eyes.
Ginger did not like that look. “Unfortunately,” he said, giving the other man a wary expression.
“I don’t suppose you know how to get rid of poltergeists?” the dean asked. The hope in his eyes grew stronger.
“I thought poltergeists threw things,” Lou frowned, “instead of playing them.”
“Well, this one would rather play,” said the dean. “And as you can hear, it’s quite a distraction. Honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if the ghost could . . . well, play.”
Ginger grunted. “We only get rid of dangerous spirits,” he said. “If all yours does is play the instruments, however badly, there is likely very little we could do.”
“I don’t even know that I’d want to,” Lou put in. “I mean, it’s not doing any real harm, is it?”
“To my sanity!” the dean cried, curling his fingers. “And you wouldn’t believe the number of visitors who have been scared off. Some students don’t even want to enroll when they realize there actually is a campus ghost.”
“Why not lock the instruments away?” Ginger suggested.
“We’ve tried that,” the dean said. “It just pulled the padlock off and brought them out again.”
An approaching student paused, listening to the strange conversation. “Hey, Dean, I tell you, the best way to deal with something like this is to teach the ghost how to play good,” he said.
“Oh, that’s nonsense!” the dean retorted. “How could anyone teach a ghost anything?!”
Ginger looked equally scandalized. But Lou was warming to the idea. “Maybe it’d work,” he said. “You could leave a book about music lying around in the lounge and see if the ghost would read it.”
“If it can read at all,” the student quipped.
“It’s all ridiculous,” Ginger growled. Grudgingly he added, “But it wouldn’t take any effort to try.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the dean sighed. “Well, I’ll have someone find a book to put in there. Most people won’t even go in while it’s . . . serenading everyone.”
“We’ll put it in,” Ginger said flatly. “The noise isn’t doing much for our sanity, either.”
“Of course,” the dean nodded, somewhat in a daze.
****
A book about music was soon found and handed to Ginger. In determination he started up the corridor with Lou alongside and the dean and several more students trailing after them.
“Can you believe this rot?” Ginger said to Lou. “None of these people have the courage to walk into a room where the instruments are playing themselves. It isn’t as though something dangerous is happening.”
“Maybe it will,” Lou suddenly realized. “What if the ghost feels insulted?”
“Surely it’s aware it doesn’t know how to play,” Ginger grunted. This was certainly a conversation he had never thought he would have with anyone!
“Maybe it doesn’t care,” Lou said.
“This was your idea, you know,” Ginger pointed out.
“I know,” Lou sighed. “Now I’m starting to wonder what the heck I was thinking.”
“I wondered that from the start,” Ginger proclaimed. “Ghosts reading books!”
“Is it any weirder than what this one’s doing?” Lou countered.
Ginger sighed. “Perhaps not,” he conceded.
Arriving at the room, Ginger pushed the door open farther and stepped inside. The playing continued.
“You would possibly benefit from the information in this book,” Ginger said to thin air as he set the volume on a nearby table. “And if you could learn the principles it teaches, perhaps the uni would be more accepting of you.”
A long and disharmonic violin chord was his reply. As Ginger turned to leave, the unpleasant sounds continued. The book remained untouched.
“I’ve got the feeling the ghost isn’t gonna read that book,” Lou proclaimed nervously.
“I’ve got the feeling it really doesn’t bloody well care,” Ginger said. And he had to smirk a bit.
“What is it?” Lou blinked.
Ginger looked to Lou. “Oh . . . I’m just thinking that to some extent, I can agree with and even support its position. Apparently all it wants is to have fun with the instruments, regardless of how it sounds. I don’t think it would care for one moment whether it was accepted or not. And I have certainly always insisted on being myself, even when that chased away quite a few people who couldn’t handle it.”
“That’s true,” Lou said.
“Not that I like that racket any better, mind you,” Ginger continued. “That wouldn’t be possible.”
“I don’t think any of us will ever like it,” Lou said.
“So what are we supposed to do?!” the dean exclaimed.
“Right now, I would suggest sound-proofing that room,” Ginger said dryly.
“Who would even work in there with a ghost carrying on?!” the dean shot back.
Ginger stared at him. “I would hope that there are more than a few manual workers who wouldn’t be afraid of a ghost that isn’t even doing anything to them,” he said.
The dean rocked back. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose you’re right. I’d better try to find someone.”
“Good luck,” Lou said sincerely.
“Hmm? Oh. Thank you,” the dean said distractedly.
Lou shook his head as he and Ginger walked away, heading for the department they had originally come to see. “This is one of the weirdest things we’ve ever run into,” he said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ginger said. “But it is one of the few benign things we’ve run into. And that is most certainly a welcome change.”
Lou had to agree with that. “I wonder if they’ll really make the room sound-proof.”
“I imagine we’ll find out,” Ginger said. “This assignment is supposed to bring us back here more than once.” He paused. “I recommend we bring earplugs the next time.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lou said fervently.
****
Over the next few weeks, Ginger and Lou returned to the campus several times-minus the earplugs, which really didn’t seem to help. Each time, the unknown ghost was determinedly playing in the lounge. And each time, the soundproof arrangements hadn’t been made.
On their last trip to the campus, Ginger finally asked the dean, “Aren’t you ever planning to fix the room? You were whinging about it so much the first time we came.”
The dean sighed, looking embarrassed. “We fully meant to fix it.”
“And you couldn’t find anyone man enough to do it?” Lou wondered.
“No, no. Actually . . .” The dean paused, glancing towards the room. “We figured that if there’s no way to make the spirit go, we might as well try to learn to live with it and its music.”
Ginger raised an eyebrow. “Is it working?”
“Quite well,” said the dean. “By this point, well . . . I think some of the students would miss it if it went away. It’s kind of a constant, you see.”
Ginger nodded. “I suppose. But doesn’t it still bother you?”
The dean gave a helpless shrug. “Well . . . I guess there’s worse things it could be doing.”
“A whole lot,” Lou declared. “Be glad it just wants to play.”
“I’m starting to be,” the dean said. “I’ve heard some rumors about what you two have encountered on some of your other business trips.”
“I wish that stuff wasn’t getting all around,” Lou sighed.
“How is it getting ‘all around’?” Ginger frowned. “We don’t tend to publicize any of it.”
“Some of the cases go public anyway,” said the dean, “such as that other one you handled at a haunted campus. When I think of the sheer number of spirits terrorizing the university so much that it had to be shut down . . .” He shuddered. “I have to wonder what I ever had to complain about.”
A particularly sour note echoed from the lounge and they all winced.
“Yes,” the dean sighed. “What to complain about indeed.”
****
Ginger seemed thoughtful as they departed the campus for the final time.
Lou watched him curiously for a while before speaking. “So what’s on your mind?” he wondered.
“I find it interesting how they’ve decided to deal with their ghost, is all,” Ginger said. “Just accept it. That method was certainly never applied to me, until you came along.”
Lou smiled. “It’s kind of nice to see they’re so open-minded. I don’t know how they’re gonna deal with all that noise, though. It really does drive a guy up the wall.” Even outside, they could still hear the faint strains of a most displeasing violin solo.
Ginger shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t be so open-minded,” he confessed. “Not if it was happening in our house. I would either demand an exorcism or just move.” He scowled. “I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, if I’m going to continue drawing parallels between the ghost and myself.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lou said kindly. They arrived at their car and he unlocked it. “A college campus is a lot different than a home. There’s lots of other places for people to escape to when they can’t take it. If it was going on in the home, there really wouldn’t be much escape.”
“Granted,” Ginger nodded. He slid into the car and Lou followed suit on the other side.
“And even if you’re drawing parallels, it shouldn’t mean you’d feel like you had to put up with something frustrating going on,” Lou said.
“True,” Ginger said. “And I honestly can’t guarantee that I would even be chums with myself, if I ever encountered such a counterpart. I certainly wouldn’t be afraid of myself . . . or would I.” He frowned. “I suppose sometimes I am, when I’m wondering how much damage I’m capable of inflicting everywhere. No, I don’t think I’d get along well with a counterpart of myself on several levels.”
Lou smiled sadly. “I kind of don’t think so, either. You’d always be arguing with the other guy, being so much like each other.”
Ginger leaned back. “I not only want your friendship, Lou, I need it. You keep me sane as well as human. And I am always amazed that I don’t drive you mad like that ghost was driving the whole campus mad.”
Lou smiled more, happier this time. “They needed time to decide they wanted to accept it and that they’d be better off for it. I didn’t need so much time.” He glanced at Ginger. “Of course, a lot of that might have been because I could actually talk with you and come to know you. They couldn’t do that with their ghost.”
“How very true,” Ginger grunted. “But talking with me could have scared you away all the more. I’ll always be grateful that you were more open-minded and accepting than that.”
“And I’ll always be grateful they sent me to London to meet you,” Lou said sincerely.
“As will I.”
They drove in a pleasant silence for a time before Lou spoke again. “I wonder what that ghost’s story really is,” he mused. “Where did it come from? Why is it so obsessed with music even though it plays terrible? Why doesn’t it go somewhere else and play some other instruments?”
“No one will probably ever know,” Ginger said. “Unless it decides someday to let someone in on the secrets.”
“And I guess that’s possible,” Lou said. “If it can play instruments, it can probably do just about anything.”
“Or perhaps playing the instruments is its only real method of communication,” Ginger said. “There’s so much we don’t know or understand about the spirit plane.”
“And that’s really okay with me, if the only way to know is to be a spirit,” Lou shuddered.
“Or to have even more encounters with them,” Ginger added dryly. “Although I’ll take that over dying any day.”
“Same here.” Lou shook his head. “And it looks like we’re probably going to have more encounters with them. And I’ll bet it’ll be a while before there’s a benign one again.”
“Most likely.” Ginger looked irritated. “So we shall enjoy this break while we can.”
“Oh yeah.” Lou raised his bottled water as they came to a stoplight. “Here’s to ghosts that play instruments instead of throwing them.”
“Hear, hear,” Ginger said.
Entry Number: 02
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files (specifically, The Queen of Peru episode)
Rating: K/G (a harmless ghost). Last year I did one humorous fic in the challenge; this may be the only one this year. We'll see.
Genre: Supernatural, Humor
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2,301
By Lucky_Ladybug
It was certainly not Ginger and Lou’s typical sort of case.
Not that they really had a typical sort of case. But when they were visiting a college campus to meet with young video game developers in the graduate student program and a very bizarre, discordant sort of music wafted down the hall, they had to stop and listen in bewilderment.
“What,” Ginger said in complete, befuddled irritation, “is that?”
The dean colored. “It’s . . . um . . . just someone practicing in the lounge,” he stammered. “Nothing to worry about, Gentlemen.”
They were willing to accept that simple explanation. But as they walked past said lounge, the door was open enough that they could see a violin suspended in mid-air, as though held by an unseen person. Another unseen hand worked the bow in a very off-key, untrained manner.
Ginger stiffened. Lou’s jaw dropped. The dean facepalmed.
“Is this a bloody joke?” Ginger frowned.
“No, I’m afraid,” the dean moaned.
“A demonstration of your special effects department,” Ginger tried again, clinging to some hope of a sane explanation.
“Not at all, though I wish it were.” The dean mopped his brow. “Please, Gentlemen, may we move on?”
“Yes,” Ginger said, wanting to get as far away from the lounge as possible.
Lou thoroughly concurred.
Even far down the corridor, however, the unpleasant, grating music still met their ears.
“We just can’t get away from the ghosts!” Lou exclaimed to Ginger in dismay.
“When have we ever been able to?” Ginger retorted.
The dean peered at them. “Pardon me, but are you saying you’ve had supernatural encounters before?” Hope glimmered in his eyes.
Ginger did not like that look. “Unfortunately,” he said, giving the other man a wary expression.
“I don’t suppose you know how to get rid of poltergeists?” the dean asked. The hope in his eyes grew stronger.
“I thought poltergeists threw things,” Lou frowned, “instead of playing them.”
“Well, this one would rather play,” said the dean. “And as you can hear, it’s quite a distraction. Honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if the ghost could . . . well, play.”
Ginger grunted. “We only get rid of dangerous spirits,” he said. “If all yours does is play the instruments, however badly, there is likely very little we could do.”
“I don’t even know that I’d want to,” Lou put in. “I mean, it’s not doing any real harm, is it?”
“To my sanity!” the dean cried, curling his fingers. “And you wouldn’t believe the number of visitors who have been scared off. Some students don’t even want to enroll when they realize there actually is a campus ghost.”
“Why not lock the instruments away?” Ginger suggested.
“We’ve tried that,” the dean said. “It just pulled the padlock off and brought them out again.”
An approaching student paused, listening to the strange conversation. “Hey, Dean, I tell you, the best way to deal with something like this is to teach the ghost how to play good,” he said.
“Oh, that’s nonsense!” the dean retorted. “How could anyone teach a ghost anything?!”
Ginger looked equally scandalized. But Lou was warming to the idea. “Maybe it’d work,” he said. “You could leave a book about music lying around in the lounge and see if the ghost would read it.”
“If it can read at all,” the student quipped.
“It’s all ridiculous,” Ginger growled. Grudgingly he added, “But it wouldn’t take any effort to try.”
“I suppose you’re right,” the dean sighed. “Well, I’ll have someone find a book to put in there. Most people won’t even go in while it’s . . . serenading everyone.”
“We’ll put it in,” Ginger said flatly. “The noise isn’t doing much for our sanity, either.”
“Of course,” the dean nodded, somewhat in a daze.
****
A book about music was soon found and handed to Ginger. In determination he started up the corridor with Lou alongside and the dean and several more students trailing after them.
“Can you believe this rot?” Ginger said to Lou. “None of these people have the courage to walk into a room where the instruments are playing themselves. It isn’t as though something dangerous is happening.”
“Maybe it will,” Lou suddenly realized. “What if the ghost feels insulted?”
“Surely it’s aware it doesn’t know how to play,” Ginger grunted. This was certainly a conversation he had never thought he would have with anyone!
“Maybe it doesn’t care,” Lou said.
“This was your idea, you know,” Ginger pointed out.
“I know,” Lou sighed. “Now I’m starting to wonder what the heck I was thinking.”
“I wondered that from the start,” Ginger proclaimed. “Ghosts reading books!”
“Is it any weirder than what this one’s doing?” Lou countered.
Ginger sighed. “Perhaps not,” he conceded.
Arriving at the room, Ginger pushed the door open farther and stepped inside. The playing continued.
“You would possibly benefit from the information in this book,” Ginger said to thin air as he set the volume on a nearby table. “And if you could learn the principles it teaches, perhaps the uni would be more accepting of you.”
A long and disharmonic violin chord was his reply. As Ginger turned to leave, the unpleasant sounds continued. The book remained untouched.
“I’ve got the feeling the ghost isn’t gonna read that book,” Lou proclaimed nervously.
“I’ve got the feeling it really doesn’t bloody well care,” Ginger said. And he had to smirk a bit.
“What is it?” Lou blinked.
Ginger looked to Lou. “Oh . . . I’m just thinking that to some extent, I can agree with and even support its position. Apparently all it wants is to have fun with the instruments, regardless of how it sounds. I don’t think it would care for one moment whether it was accepted or not. And I have certainly always insisted on being myself, even when that chased away quite a few people who couldn’t handle it.”
“That’s true,” Lou said.
“Not that I like that racket any better, mind you,” Ginger continued. “That wouldn’t be possible.”
“I don’t think any of us will ever like it,” Lou said.
“So what are we supposed to do?!” the dean exclaimed.
“Right now, I would suggest sound-proofing that room,” Ginger said dryly.
“Who would even work in there with a ghost carrying on?!” the dean shot back.
Ginger stared at him. “I would hope that there are more than a few manual workers who wouldn’t be afraid of a ghost that isn’t even doing anything to them,” he said.
The dean rocked back. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose you’re right. I’d better try to find someone.”
“Good luck,” Lou said sincerely.
“Hmm? Oh. Thank you,” the dean said distractedly.
Lou shook his head as he and Ginger walked away, heading for the department they had originally come to see. “This is one of the weirdest things we’ve ever run into,” he said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ginger said. “But it is one of the few benign things we’ve run into. And that is most certainly a welcome change.”
Lou had to agree with that. “I wonder if they’ll really make the room sound-proof.”
“I imagine we’ll find out,” Ginger said. “This assignment is supposed to bring us back here more than once.” He paused. “I recommend we bring earplugs the next time.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lou said fervently.
****
Over the next few weeks, Ginger and Lou returned to the campus several times-minus the earplugs, which really didn’t seem to help. Each time, the unknown ghost was determinedly playing in the lounge. And each time, the soundproof arrangements hadn’t been made.
On their last trip to the campus, Ginger finally asked the dean, “Aren’t you ever planning to fix the room? You were whinging about it so much the first time we came.”
The dean sighed, looking embarrassed. “We fully meant to fix it.”
“And you couldn’t find anyone man enough to do it?” Lou wondered.
“No, no. Actually . . .” The dean paused, glancing towards the room. “We figured that if there’s no way to make the spirit go, we might as well try to learn to live with it and its music.”
Ginger raised an eyebrow. “Is it working?”
“Quite well,” said the dean. “By this point, well . . . I think some of the students would miss it if it went away. It’s kind of a constant, you see.”
Ginger nodded. “I suppose. But doesn’t it still bother you?”
The dean gave a helpless shrug. “Well . . . I guess there’s worse things it could be doing.”
“A whole lot,” Lou declared. “Be glad it just wants to play.”
“I’m starting to be,” the dean said. “I’ve heard some rumors about what you two have encountered on some of your other business trips.”
“I wish that stuff wasn’t getting all around,” Lou sighed.
“How is it getting ‘all around’?” Ginger frowned. “We don’t tend to publicize any of it.”
“Some of the cases go public anyway,” said the dean, “such as that other one you handled at a haunted campus. When I think of the sheer number of spirits terrorizing the university so much that it had to be shut down . . .” He shuddered. “I have to wonder what I ever had to complain about.”
A particularly sour note echoed from the lounge and they all winced.
“Yes,” the dean sighed. “What to complain about indeed.”
****
Ginger seemed thoughtful as they departed the campus for the final time.
Lou watched him curiously for a while before speaking. “So what’s on your mind?” he wondered.
“I find it interesting how they’ve decided to deal with their ghost, is all,” Ginger said. “Just accept it. That method was certainly never applied to me, until you came along.”
Lou smiled. “It’s kind of nice to see they’re so open-minded. I don’t know how they’re gonna deal with all that noise, though. It really does drive a guy up the wall.” Even outside, they could still hear the faint strains of a most displeasing violin solo.
Ginger shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t be so open-minded,” he confessed. “Not if it was happening in our house. I would either demand an exorcism or just move.” He scowled. “I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, if I’m going to continue drawing parallels between the ghost and myself.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lou said kindly. They arrived at their car and he unlocked it. “A college campus is a lot different than a home. There’s lots of other places for people to escape to when they can’t take it. If it was going on in the home, there really wouldn’t be much escape.”
“Granted,” Ginger nodded. He slid into the car and Lou followed suit on the other side.
“And even if you’re drawing parallels, it shouldn’t mean you’d feel like you had to put up with something frustrating going on,” Lou said.
“True,” Ginger said. “And I honestly can’t guarantee that I would even be chums with myself, if I ever encountered such a counterpart. I certainly wouldn’t be afraid of myself . . . or would I.” He frowned. “I suppose sometimes I am, when I’m wondering how much damage I’m capable of inflicting everywhere. No, I don’t think I’d get along well with a counterpart of myself on several levels.”
Lou smiled sadly. “I kind of don’t think so, either. You’d always be arguing with the other guy, being so much like each other.”
Ginger leaned back. “I not only want your friendship, Lou, I need it. You keep me sane as well as human. And I am always amazed that I don’t drive you mad like that ghost was driving the whole campus mad.”
Lou smiled more, happier this time. “They needed time to decide they wanted to accept it and that they’d be better off for it. I didn’t need so much time.” He glanced at Ginger. “Of course, a lot of that might have been because I could actually talk with you and come to know you. They couldn’t do that with their ghost.”
“How very true,” Ginger grunted. “But talking with me could have scared you away all the more. I’ll always be grateful that you were more open-minded and accepting than that.”
“And I’ll always be grateful they sent me to London to meet you,” Lou said sincerely.
“As will I.”
They drove in a pleasant silence for a time before Lou spoke again. “I wonder what that ghost’s story really is,” he mused. “Where did it come from? Why is it so obsessed with music even though it plays terrible? Why doesn’t it go somewhere else and play some other instruments?”
“No one will probably ever know,” Ginger said. “Unless it decides someday to let someone in on the secrets.”
“And I guess that’s possible,” Lou said. “If it can play instruments, it can probably do just about anything.”
“Or perhaps playing the instruments is its only real method of communication,” Ginger said. “There’s so much we don’t know or understand about the spirit plane.”
“And that’s really okay with me, if the only way to know is to be a spirit,” Lou shuddered.
“Or to have even more encounters with them,” Ginger added dryly. “Although I’ll take that over dying any day.”
“Same here.” Lou shook his head. “And it looks like we’re probably going to have more encounters with them. And I’ll bet it’ll be a while before there’s a benign one again.”
“Most likely.” Ginger looked irritated. “So we shall enjoy this break while we can.”
“Oh yeah.” Lou raised his bottled water as they came to a stoplight. “Here’s to ghosts that play instruments instead of throwing them.”
“Hear, hear,” Ginger said.