Fic: Glasses Part 3 of 4
Glasses Part 3 of 4
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Disclaimer: I do not own Flight of the Conchords, or Hbo, or Bret, or Jemaine…though I will glad take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: PG again!
Word Count:888
Warnings: None - this one’s clean thus far.
Brief summary: Jemaine loses his glasses and Bret lends a hand.
Notes: Again, first time Murray for me. Hope it’s cool.
“Bret! Jemaine! This is a surprise; we don’t have a scheduled band meeting today.” Murray said as he looked up from his desk to see the band standing in his office.
“I know, Murray, but we need your help,” Bret said, his hand still locked with Jemaine’s.
“Oh, right - well what can I do for - whoa! Jemaine, why are you so angry?”
“What? I’m not-”
“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten you any gigs in a while, but - heavens! You don’t have to be so mad about it!”
“I’m not-”
“Look like you’re going to smash my face in. Keep in mind; I can’t get you any gigs if I’ve got a black eye - what will that say to people? Did you ever hear of the Rolling Stones beating up their manager to get gigs? It’s not good policy.”
“Murray, I’m not angry.”
“Well, could’ve fooled me.”
“No, Murray, Jemaine’s glasses are missing.”
Murray frowned and paid more attention to Jemaine as a whole, “Oh! What’s this then? You trying a new look? It’s not bad…you look…fierce.”
“No, I’ve just lost them. Bret and I are retracing my steps from the other day back when I still had them.”
“Say, that’s a good idea!”
“It was my Mum’s.” Bret said, beaming a little.
Murray nodded in agreement, “Mum’s are good at that sort of thing. My Mum gives me great ideas, and I know your Mum’s has some good ones, Bret…don’t know about your Mum, Jemaine.”
Jemaine didn’t know how to respond to that but staying quiet seemed to be an answer as Murray flinched again, “Not to say anything bad, sure she’s a lovely woman.”
Jemaine was sure his telepathy was kicking in again as he sensed Murray’s mood, “I’m not mad, Murray.”
“So, Murray, have you seen Jemaine’s glasses by any chance?”
“Hrm, no. Don’t think so. Let me check.” Murray began looking around his office. Going through his file cabinets and along his desk, looking under it and under chairs. Bret let go of Jemaine’s hand to help a little, his eyes searching along the bookcase and Jemaine just stood there squinting. He noticed a picture across the way and smiled, “Hey Murray, who’s the girl in that picture over there? She’s hot.”
Murray frowned and got up from his position on the floor, where he’d been looking through his trash can, “Where?”
Jemaine pointed, “That photo, the one in the frame. I can kind of see it. I can see the girl anyway. She’s hot.”
Murray followed Jemaine’s line of sight and picked up the framed photo, “This is a picture of Bret.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is,” Murray brought it closer, handing it to Jemaine, “See here? It’s from that photo shoot you guys did. This one didn’t have you, so we scraped it. I framed it to give to Mel later.”
“Aw, Murray, don’t do that.” Bret pleaded.
“Why not? It’s good to reward your fan base for their loyalty.”
Jemaine held the picture up to his face, muttering under his breath, “Looked like a girl.”
“Maybe I should call Greg in here. See if he’s seen them.”
“Looked like a hot girl,” Jemaine muttered again, and he held the photo away, and then brought it back up close again.
Murray called Greg in, Bret still continuing his search. Jemaine kept examining the photo from close and far away, “Still…sort of hot.”
Greg came in, leaning on the doorframe, “Yeah, Murray.”
“Greg, have you happened to see Jemaine’s glasses anywhere about?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Greg said, looking around the room a little.
“...wonder if that’s a bit gay…”
“Jemaine?”
Jemaine looked up from the picture. Murray took it back, “I don’t think we’re having much luck here.”
“I don’t think I see them,” Greg repeated, satisfied he didn’t see them in his quick preliminary of the room; he looked at Jemaine and frowned, “Why are you so mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Probably because he can’t find his glasses. Makes him all…growly. Like a wildcat. Or an ogre.”
“I think ogres are more grouchy than growly. But the wildcat analogy fits.” Greg said helpfully before exiting.
Bret, who had moved his search to the floor, rose to his feet, brushing himself off, “Yeah, they’re not here.”
“Well, good luck in finding them. By the way, Bret, I’m impressed. I’m always telling you to look after Jemaine and I see you’re doing a fine job of it. Holding hands is a good way not to get lost! Nice to see you taking initiative.”
“Thanks, Murray,” Bret enthused, clasping hands with Jemaine again.
“And I also have to say, Jemaine, if you want to work the no-glasses thing as a gimmick for the band I could see it. I mean, look how well that works for Superman and Bruce Wayne. You know, he’s Superman with the glasses off and Bruce Wayne with them on.”
“I thought it was Clark Kent.”
“Whoever he is, he’s a superhero and people eat that sort of thing up nowadays. Something to think about…in fact, think I’ll make that an item for the next band meeting,” Murray got out a pen and yellow pad and began scribbling.
Bret and Jemaine said their goodbyes as Bret led Jemaine on to their next destination.
Pairing(s) in the story: Jemaine/Bret (Flight of the Conchords)
Author Name/Pen Name: she_burns1
Disclaimer: I do not own Flight of the Conchords, or Hbo, or Bret, or Jemaine…though I will glad take donations of Bret/Jemaine!
Rating of story: PG again!
Word Count:888
Warnings: None - this one’s clean thus far.
Brief summary: Jemaine loses his glasses and Bret lends a hand.
Notes: Again, first time Murray for me. Hope it’s cool.
“Bret! Jemaine! This is a surprise; we don’t have a scheduled band meeting today.” Murray said as he looked up from his desk to see the band standing in his office.
“I know, Murray, but we need your help,” Bret said, his hand still locked with Jemaine’s.
“Oh, right - well what can I do for - whoa! Jemaine, why are you so angry?”
“What? I’m not-”
“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten you any gigs in a while, but - heavens! You don’t have to be so mad about it!”
“I’m not-”
“Look like you’re going to smash my face in. Keep in mind; I can’t get you any gigs if I’ve got a black eye - what will that say to people? Did you ever hear of the Rolling Stones beating up their manager to get gigs? It’s not good policy.”
“Murray, I’m not angry.”
“Well, could’ve fooled me.”
“No, Murray, Jemaine’s glasses are missing.”
Murray frowned and paid more attention to Jemaine as a whole, “Oh! What’s this then? You trying a new look? It’s not bad…you look…fierce.”
“No, I’ve just lost them. Bret and I are retracing my steps from the other day back when I still had them.”
“Say, that’s a good idea!”
“It was my Mum’s.” Bret said, beaming a little.
Murray nodded in agreement, “Mum’s are good at that sort of thing. My Mum gives me great ideas, and I know your Mum’s has some good ones, Bret…don’t know about your Mum, Jemaine.”
Jemaine didn’t know how to respond to that but staying quiet seemed to be an answer as Murray flinched again, “Not to say anything bad, sure she’s a lovely woman.”
Jemaine was sure his telepathy was kicking in again as he sensed Murray’s mood, “I’m not mad, Murray.”
“So, Murray, have you seen Jemaine’s glasses by any chance?”
“Hrm, no. Don’t think so. Let me check.” Murray began looking around his office. Going through his file cabinets and along his desk, looking under it and under chairs. Bret let go of Jemaine’s hand to help a little, his eyes searching along the bookcase and Jemaine just stood there squinting. He noticed a picture across the way and smiled, “Hey Murray, who’s the girl in that picture over there? She’s hot.”
Murray frowned and got up from his position on the floor, where he’d been looking through his trash can, “Where?”
Jemaine pointed, “That photo, the one in the frame. I can kind of see it. I can see the girl anyway. She’s hot.”
Murray followed Jemaine’s line of sight and picked up the framed photo, “This is a picture of Bret.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is,” Murray brought it closer, handing it to Jemaine, “See here? It’s from that photo shoot you guys did. This one didn’t have you, so we scraped it. I framed it to give to Mel later.”
“Aw, Murray, don’t do that.” Bret pleaded.
“Why not? It’s good to reward your fan base for their loyalty.”
Jemaine held the picture up to his face, muttering under his breath, “Looked like a girl.”
“Maybe I should call Greg in here. See if he’s seen them.”
“Looked like a hot girl,” Jemaine muttered again, and he held the photo away, and then brought it back up close again.
Murray called Greg in, Bret still continuing his search. Jemaine kept examining the photo from close and far away, “Still…sort of hot.”
Greg came in, leaning on the doorframe, “Yeah, Murray.”
“Greg, have you happened to see Jemaine’s glasses anywhere about?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Greg said, looking around the room a little.
“...wonder if that’s a bit gay…”
“Jemaine?”
Jemaine looked up from the picture. Murray took it back, “I don’t think we’re having much luck here.”
“I don’t think I see them,” Greg repeated, satisfied he didn’t see them in his quick preliminary of the room; he looked at Jemaine and frowned, “Why are you so mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Probably because he can’t find his glasses. Makes him all…growly. Like a wildcat. Or an ogre.”
“I think ogres are more grouchy than growly. But the wildcat analogy fits.” Greg said helpfully before exiting.
Bret, who had moved his search to the floor, rose to his feet, brushing himself off, “Yeah, they’re not here.”
“Well, good luck in finding them. By the way, Bret, I’m impressed. I’m always telling you to look after Jemaine and I see you’re doing a fine job of it. Holding hands is a good way not to get lost! Nice to see you taking initiative.”
“Thanks, Murray,” Bret enthused, clasping hands with Jemaine again.
“And I also have to say, Jemaine, if you want to work the no-glasses thing as a gimmick for the band I could see it. I mean, look how well that works for Superman and Bruce Wayne. You know, he’s Superman with the glasses off and Bruce Wayne with them on.”
“I thought it was Clark Kent.”
“Whoever he is, he’s a superhero and people eat that sort of thing up nowadays. Something to think about…in fact, think I’ll make that an item for the next band meeting,” Murray got out a pen and yellow pad and began scribbling.
Bret and Jemaine said their goodbyes as Bret led Jemaine on to their next destination.