fic: you don't have to put on the red light, part 6
Title: you don't have to put on the red light
Part 6: books
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bret hires Jemaine to be his ‘companion’.
Disclaimer: I do not owns the ‘Flight of the Conchords’ or anything connected with them. I also do not own 'Alice in Wonderland', which is an amazing book by Lewis Carroll.
Spoilers: Through SS2 ‘A New Cup’ - though nothing too spoilery.
Notes: The tamness continues! I'm working on the story and, um, yeah, so it's going up into like, Part 10 and is still not done, so, this may be my biggest EPIC ever...hope you all are strapped in for the ride! :)
Back to: Part 5, Part 4, Part 3, Part 2, Part 1
As the last chords of the song rang out, Bret leaned closer to the microphone, saying shyly, “Thank you. We’re Flight of the Conchords and…you know…don’t-don’t wait on this one.”
Jemaine started shaking his head vehemently, whispering something savagely that Bret couldn’t hear.
“Wh-what?” Bret breathed, the beginning half of the words hitting the microphone. He leaned closer to Jemaine, who whispered directly into his ear. Bret nodded, going back to the microphone, “Um, yes, well sort of…sort of forget that last bit, if you could…and…thank you, again. We’ll-we’ll be back in just a moment.”
Bret and Jemaine carefully placed their instruments down on the chairs behind them as they went to the edge of the precariously built soapbox stage that had been constructed. Murray stood there, looking pleased, “Great job, you guys! Really good! Crowd loves it!”
“Murray, you didn’t tell us this book fair was for going to be for a preschool.”
“Jemaine! It’s not a preschool,” Murray said with some shock, then confessed, “It’s an elementary.”
Both Bret and Jemaine looked put out, so Murray did his best to reassure them, “Still! It’s…you know…good to get a new audience! Young people listen to music too. They make up a large demographic of…music listeners! And it’s good to grab them early on before, you know, they get into…say, jazz or classical. Bebop. Disco. What have you.”
“Murray, one of the kids mooned us.”
“What! No! No, I’m sure they didn’t-”
“And they called us names,” Bret remarked sulkily.
Murray sighed, “Well, Bret, sadly every crowd has a heckler but, I think you guys are doing well. I’m especially proud of you, Bret! Using the catch phrase! Good job, very good job!”
Bret grinned bashfully, “Thanks, Murray.”
Murray licked his lips then, looking apprehensive, “However it, it has come to my attention that, you know, this audience is…rather young so, it-it might be prudent to change up the lyrics a bit.”
“Aw! What!” Jemaine gasped, horrified, “We can’t change our lyrics!”
“Jemaine, the children here, they don’t really like booties shaking at the party. They don’t understand it. That and…some of the parents complained. And a teacher. So, when you go up there and sing that song, the one about the robots, I don’t think you should say that the humans are dead.”
“Mm no, no,” Jemaine shook his head defiantly, crossing his arms, “I’m not changing the lyrics.”
“Jemaine, be reasonable! If you go up there, and you say the humans are dead, the kids…they might believe you. They believe in things! Like…the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny.”
“Santa Claus.” Bret supplied.
Murray looked offended, “Bret! Please! I’m talking about imaginary things here! Things children believe are real! Now Santa, he is real. He’s just as real as Elvis! Or the President! Lochness!”
Bret’s eyes narrowed at this, but Murray ignored him, directing his attention back to a stubborn Jemaine, “If you sing about humans being dead, the children…they might be frightened. Or worse, cry. Do you want to make the children cry, Jemaine?”
Jemaine looked a bit more somber, shaking his head, Murray nodded his head gravely, “Yes, I thought not. Look, just…just make some mention of them being alive. Okay? Maybe you could sing the humans are dead, but then, right after, toss in a ‘not really’. Still can fit in the song. And, at the end, Bret, you can drop the catch phrase again. Repetition. That’s how catch phrases are born!”
Bret and Jemaine went back on to the badly built stage and played another round of songs, finishing up with Robots (The Humans Are (Not Really) Dead). Bret concluded with thanking everyone and telling them not to wait on this one again, which Jemaine yet again chastising him for.
They exited the stage, remarking that, while not exactly what they had envisioned, the fair had been a rather decent gig. But then it was a nice, warm sunny day and the whole area had a nice feel to it. There were book covered tables lining up and down the sidewalks on either side of the street, as well as some food vendors. Young children giggled and skipped about, some holding their parents' hands and others clinging to free helium filled balloons.
Bret made mention of his interest in trying to score a free balloon, as well as his eagerness to pick out his free book. Jemaine, who was not interested in free balloons nor in picking out a children’s book for himself, magnanimously allowed Bret to pick out both of their free books. Goals set; Bret disappeared, leaving Jemaine to gather up their instruments. As he did so, he silently reflected over the last few days, his hands shaking a bit as they passed gently over Bret’s guitar.
Jemaine had found, over time, that touching Bret was becoming easier and easier and he wasn’t quite sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Now when Bret asked for Jemaine to hold his hand or to give him a hug, there was no akward dance towards the actions, there was no internal struggle, there was just an ease, a farmiliarity, as he had all ready done it so many times before.
He knew he shouldn’t get used to it, and what was worse, he shouldn’t be liking it. Not that he did. Not really…except…except sometimes when Bret made a purchase, Jemaine, he almost found himself eager to complete it.
He certainly had become that way about resting, which, in truth, was one of the things that worried him the most. Last night, Bret had started deconstructing the bivouac and Jemaine had come out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and ready for bed only to feel a sinking weight in the center of his stomach as he watched Bret arrange the blankets and sheets back on their respective beds.
“What are you doing?” He’d asked.
“Hm? Oh, nothing, just, putting everything back the way it was.”
Jemaine had found himself involuntarily wringing his hands, “So, you…you don’t want to purchase a…resting, tonight?”
Bret had shaken his head, looking at Jemaine as if it was strange for him to even ask, “No, man. That’s ten dollars. I told you…don’t want to waste all my money.”
Jemaine didn’t know why, but the feeling, the feeling that had started when he’d noticed what Bret was doing, the feeling he didn’t want to name, the feeling that was welling up inside him, was unbearable.
He found his voice sort of breaking when he spoke, “I…maybe I could…it’s on sale.”
Bret frowned, “What?”
“Sale. You know…things go on sale all the time. Like, half price.”
“I wasn’t aware that…you had sales.”
“Only for good clients,” He had tossed out quickly, “So, you know, it’s…it’s not ten dollars.”
Bret had chewed on his bottom lip apprehensively as he had contemplated Jemaine’s offer, “Still, that’s-that’s five dollars-”
“Free then!” Jemaine had snapped so quickly that even he was surprised. And his tone, oh god, had he heard desperation? Quick to cover it, the gears in his mind started turning in full force to come up with a good solution, “I mean it’s…I used to give my good clients…you know, some, some incentive. For - for all their purchases. You’ve-you’ve made a lot of purchases so, you, you deserve a little…something extra.”
“Oh. Okay then.” Bret had seemed easily convienced that this was perfectly normal and had had no problem rearranging the blankets and sheets back on the floor so they could rest together again.
Still, Jemaine was the one who had the problem, which he found himself confronting now. Why had he offered the resting free? Didn’t he still want Bret’s money as quickly as possible?
Taking away one of the bigger purchases wasn’t going to help him achieve his goal. And he couldn’t expect to get to touch Bret forever. Not that he wanted to! No! He wanted to touch a woman. A woman! That’s what he was doing all this for, that’s why he was getting the money from Bret, that’s what he needed! If only he could find a woman to distract him from Bret and these weird feelings…
“Excuse me?”
Jemaine froze the moment he heard the feminine voice behind him. Normally, when he heard a woman’s voice right after a gig, it belonged to Mel, and, as per usual, she was about the last person he ever wanted to see.
Still, this voice didn’t sound as girlish and he turned to see, as if god sent, a rather attractive redheaded woman. She had his full attention as she said primly, “Hello, I’m Miss Adams, one of the teachers of the school I just - well, I wanted to thank your band for playing. It was…interesting.”
“Oh, yes, well, thank you,” Jemaine said smoothly, looking her up and down, “You liked our music?”
“I…it…the children seemed to like it,” She said, blinking rapidly, “Anyway, I just wanted you to know we appreciated you boys coming out.”
“Thank you; I’m, um, Jemaine.” Jemaine held out his hand and Miss Adams shook it quickly. She looked around, “Where is your friend?”
“Hmm? Oh? Him? He’s, um, around.”
“I wanted to thank him too.”
“You really don’t need to. I can tell him, I can,” Jemaine took in a deep breath, as he looked her over again. She sure was pretty. No, she was more than pretty. She was hot. She was…perfect. Jemaine had just been thinking about how a woman might help him out of his predicament. Still, it was hard for him to find the words. He ended up mumbling out a messy, “So you, um, what are you into?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean re…you know, free? Later, I’m…I’m going to be into some money soon so, maybe I can, uh, kebabs and…beers and…”
Miss Adams followed his words a bit then let out a gentle laugh, shaking her head, “Oh, no. No. No, no, no…Mister…Jemaine, I’m-I’m not interested. Sorry.”
Jemaine sighed, deflating, “Of course. Let me guess. You’re interested in Bret. ‘S why you wanted to see him.”
“Bret?”
Jemaine pointed to Bret, who was flipping through a children’s pop-up book with a great amount of enjoyment. Miss Adams smiled, looking a tad shy, “Ah, yes, no. No. I’m-I’m not interested in him either.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Jemaine,” Miss Adams looked amused, “Trust me, I’m not interested in you or your friend. I’m more interested in,” she scanned the crowd, then grinned as she pointed to someone far off in the distance, “Ah, yes, right there.”
Jemaine tried to line up in his vision who she was pointing at. He recoiled when he realized she had directed him to Mel and Doug, who were buying corn dogs, “Ugh! Him? But he’s so-”
“No, no,” Miss Adams laughed again, “Not him. Next to him.”
Jemaine’s eyes scrunched up as he frowned, confused, “But that’s Mel.”
“Oh! You know her?”
“Yeah, but…that’s Mel. She’s a girl.”
“Uh huh.” Miss Adams said with a nod.
“But…you’re a girl.”
“Your point?” Miss Adams asked teasingly.
It finally clicked in Jemaine’s mind and he leaned back, eyes wide, “A-ah! Yes! I-I see…you’re um…you’re-”
“Gay? Yes, I am, and that woman she’s,” Miss Adams sighed dreamily, shaking her head, “Let me just say I’d like to take a bite out of that.”
Jemaine shuddered, “Oh, no, she’s-she’s married.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” Jemaine muttered and tossed out under his breath, “And crazy. Totally crazy.”
Miss Adams didn’t hear the last half and just shook her head sadly, “Mmm. Too bad. I saw her show up before we even had everything set up today. She seemed pretty eager to see you guys play and then, during your performance, I saw her get dragged off towards the back of the fair by a couple of the teachers…I think she had an altercation with one of the students who was teasing your performance. Think it was Bobby Teasdale and a kid like that…yeeeah. He had it coming.”
Miss Adams let out a laugh that made a shiver shoot down Jemaine’s spine. It was a very Mel-ish laugh. She only compacted it, as she continued talking, “Oh well. All the good ones are all ready taken. Let me tell you something, Jemaine, you ever find someone you’re attracted to. Really attracted to, you don’t let them go. You get them. Before it’s too late.”
Jemaine just made a noncommittal sound and Miss Adams sighed, thanking him again and asking him to make sure he passed the thanks on to Bret. Jemaine finished gathering up the instruments as Bret quickly walked over holding two books, a red balloon tied to his wrist, “Hey, I just saw Mel a few minutes ago. I forgot about her being here. She seems pretty distracted with the food right now, so, we should hurry up and get out of here. Before it’s too late.”
Jemaine nodded his agreement, handing Bret’s guitar over to him as he said absent-mindedly, “One of the teachers wanted to thank you. For the show.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, she thanked both of us actually.”
“Which one?”
Jemaine pointed out Miss Adams and Bret blinked a few times, startled, “Wow…she’s…pretty.”
Jemaine frowned, trying to place what emotion was rumbling around inside of him as he returned dryly, “Yeah, she’s all right.”
“You think-”
“She likes girls.”
“Me too.”
“No, Bret, she likes girls. A lot. Like, she told me she was into Mel.”
“Into…Mel…” Bret repeated, then it sank in and he gasped, “No! Really?”
“Yesss.”
“You’re pulling my leg again.”
“No, really. I had to tell her she was married.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Bret shrugged, unfazed, “Oh well. Let’s get our free ice cream and go home.”
Jemaine agreed with a nod. They each got a cone and trudged back to their apartment. Once they reached the stoop, they sat on the steps so they could eat their ice cream before it melted any further.
Bret took a little longer to get settled than Jemaine did, as he had to not only put down his instrument but also had to sit down his books and secure his free balloon so it wouldn’t fly away.
As such, his ice cream had melted quite a bit more than Jemaine’s had and Jemaine found himself having to vehemently ignored Bret as he licked melted ice cream off his fingers. It was, however, harder to avoid when a trickle wound its way down to Bret’s elbow and Bret licked a straight, clear path down almost his entire arm. Jemaine closed his eyes and silently counted to five before speaking, voice somewhat strained, “So, what books did you get?”
Bret, who again didn’t notice Jemaine’s worries, merely smiled brightly as he held up the books, “I got ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and this one about finger painting. It comes with free paint!”
“Finger painting?”
Bret shrugged, “I figured you might like it.”
“Me?”
Bret nodded, “You told me to pick out a book for you.”
“No, Bret, I meant you could just have both of the free books.” However, Jemaine looked at the finger painting book with some interest, “For me, huh?”
Bret merely nodded again, looking pleased as Jemaine took the book from him and began flipping through it. Jemaine looked from his book to Bret’s, “So, ‘Alice in Wonderland’?”
Bret smiled, “Yeah, my mum used to read it to me when she tucked me in.”
“I’ve never read it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s a shame. It’s really good,” Bret said, and then looked at Jemaine as a thought occurred to him. He sort of squinted before saying cautiously, “Hey, Jemaine-”
“Bret! Jemaine! Oh, wow! How weird is it that I ran into you guys, huh?!” Mel chirped cheerfully as she strolled over.
Both Bret and Jemaine looked a bit down as they greeted her, she either ignored it or didn’t notice as she continued, “You guys did great at the book fair! Really! I wanted to congratulate you after the show, but, yeah, some of the teachers made me step back a few feet. And before the show was even over! Can you believe it! I was so furious! So, so furious!”
“Oh yeah?” Bret asked.
“Yeah! Kids these days! And those kids, well, those kids were such snot-nosed, stuck up brats…and so cruel! The things they said and did…during your beautiful, beautiful performance and - and I was just defending, you guys! I mean, just because I put one five year old in a head lock, I don’t think I should be almost escorted off the premises…”
Neither Bret nor Jemaine could think of what to say to that, so Mel continued, “Anyway, after defending your honor, they left me alone off near the food stand and I got a corn dog. It was SO good. I ate the whole thing. I mean the whole thing, literally, it all fit in my mouth and it was pretty big-”
Both Bret and Jemaine looked pretty terrified now and Bret looked ready to get to his feet, remarking, “Yeah, Mel, we’ve...we’ve got to go. Jemaine and I, you know, practice.”
“Yes, practice,” Jemaine said, making a move to stand but Mel scooted forward, holding out a folder that neither man had noticed until now she’d been clutching to her chest, “Wait! I’ve got to give this to you guys!”
Jemaine took the folder warily and handed it over to Bret, who took it with much trepidation, “What-what is it?”
”Oh it’s, it’s just a story I’ve been working on. I thought it was so weird, when I heard you guys were playing at book fair I was like, that’s crazy because here I am writing a book. It’s like fate or kismet, you know, some things…they’re just…meant to be.”
Mel said this with much more conviction than needed and Bret swallowed, hoping to change the subject, “So a book, huh? That’s…nice,” Bret flipped through it a little, frowning, “It’s…long-”
“Yeah…it’s about fifty-five pages but it’s…it’s a work in progress - I’m still a little stuck in the middle….if you know what I mean,” She looked at both Bret and Jemaine meaningfully, then cleared her throat, “I even highlighted my favorite parts for you.”
Bret noticed that most of the text was highlighted as curiosity got the better of Jemaine, and he asked, “What’s it about?”
Mel started playing with hair, chewing on the ends thoughtfully as she spoke, “Oh well…it’s…I don’t want to ruin it for you or anything…but it’s got action and romance and…there’s some comedy in it and... some erotica…”
Bret and Jemaine’s faces were already pretty priceless at this point but got a notch better as Mel added, “And…well…it’s a bit autobiographical…some guest stars in there you might not expect…”
“Practice!” Jemaine interrupted, yet again about to get to his feet when a car suddenly drove up. Doug stuck his head out, looking beat down as usual, “Mel, honey-”
Mel groaned in frustration, “Doug! Oh my god! Can’t you see I’m busy!”
“Yes, I know, but, um, I think…I think one of the teacher’s from the fair is…I think she’s kind of…following us…”
Mel wrinkled her nose, “What? Why…”
Thankful for the distraction, Bret and Jemaine looked at one another and, with a shared nod, got to their feet and prepared to flee. But much to their surprise, Mel merely finished up her conversation with Doug then gave them both a sulky smile and a weak wave, “Well, I know you’ve guys got practice so…I’ll see you later…”
Mel got into the car with Doug and they drove off, disappearing around the corner. A few minutes later another car, as inconspicuously as possible, seemed to follow after them. Bret and Jemaine paid it no mind and instead resumed their seats on the stoop, returning their attention to their still melting ice cream.
“Well, that was…something.” Jemaine remarked as he finished the last of his ice cream and began to nibble on the edible sugar cone.
“Yeah, not like Mel to up and run,” Bret mused, “Nice for us though. Like being out here. Weather’s nice today.”
Jemaine made an agreeable noise in his throat and watched as Bret finished up his own ice cream cone. He smirked as he noticed a smudge of melted ice cream on one side of Bret’s face, “Bret, you’ve…you’ve got something-”
“Hrm?”
“Here-” Jemaine pointed to the spot on Bret’s face, then pointed to his own face, “You’ve got it…it’s about here…some ice cream on your face…”
“Oh!” Bret realized what Jemaine meant and rubbed at his face, still missing the spot, “Did I get it?”
“No, it’s-”
Bret tried again and Jemaine smiled, shaking his head. Thoughtlessly Jemaine reached his hand out and cupped Bret’s face quickly, his thumb brushing the spot away easily. It wasn’t until after he’d drawn his hand away and had his thumb in his mouth that Jemaine realized what he had just done. He almost choked on his thumb then, the taste of ice cream heavy on his tongue.
Bret just sort of stared at him and Jemaine drew his thumb from his mouth, looking away from his friend and clearing his throat, trying to be nonchalant as he said, “There. I…I got it.”
Bret’s swallow was painfully audible to both of them as he croaked out a ‘thank you’.
Jemaine’s mind scattered about, trying to think of some iota of distraction from what had just happened. His eyes cast about and landed, thankfully, on Mel’s folder, “So…you going to read that?”
“Nah, I’ve got my new book so,” Bret remembered something and scratched at his chin nervously. His chin. Near his cheek. Near where Jemaine had touched him. Near where Jemaine had touched him without Bret asking. Bret ignored the shiver that went through him and instead focused back on what he had remembered, “Hey, Jemaine?”
“Yes, Bret.”
“You-you said…you said you’ve never read ‘Alice in Wonderland’ before…”
“Yes?”
“Well…I mean…I could…I could read it to you.”
Jemaine frowned and turned to Bret, “Read it to me?”
“Yeah. Aloud. Like-like one of those books on tape. Except…except it wouldn’t be on tape because I’d just read it to you.”
Jemaine rolled his head about his shoulders, and then nodded, “Yeah…all right.”
“Oh,” Bret breathed out, relieved, as he had worried that Jemaine might think it was a stupid idea, “Oh good, then…maybe…you want me to start reading it now?”
Jemaine took in a deep breath of air. Bret had been right earlier. The weather was really nice today. He nodded and Bret beamed, picking up the book and opening it with relish.
He cleared his throat and began, “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank…”
On to Part 7
Part 6: books
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bret hires Jemaine to be his ‘companion’.
Disclaimer: I do not owns the ‘Flight of the Conchords’ or anything connected with them. I also do not own 'Alice in Wonderland', which is an amazing book by Lewis Carroll.
Spoilers: Through SS2 ‘A New Cup’ - though nothing too spoilery.
Notes: The tamness continues! I'm working on the story and, um, yeah, so it's going up into like, Part 10 and is still not done, so, this may be my biggest EPIC ever...hope you all are strapped in for the ride! :)
Back to: Part 5, Part 4, Part 3, Part 2, Part 1
As the last chords of the song rang out, Bret leaned closer to the microphone, saying shyly, “Thank you. We’re Flight of the Conchords and…you know…don’t-don’t wait on this one.”
Jemaine started shaking his head vehemently, whispering something savagely that Bret couldn’t hear.
“Wh-what?” Bret breathed, the beginning half of the words hitting the microphone. He leaned closer to Jemaine, who whispered directly into his ear. Bret nodded, going back to the microphone, “Um, yes, well sort of…sort of forget that last bit, if you could…and…thank you, again. We’ll-we’ll be back in just a moment.”
Bret and Jemaine carefully placed their instruments down on the chairs behind them as they went to the edge of the precariously built soapbox stage that had been constructed. Murray stood there, looking pleased, “Great job, you guys! Really good! Crowd loves it!”
“Murray, you didn’t tell us this book fair was for going to be for a preschool.”
“Jemaine! It’s not a preschool,” Murray said with some shock, then confessed, “It’s an elementary.”
Both Bret and Jemaine looked put out, so Murray did his best to reassure them, “Still! It’s…you know…good to get a new audience! Young people listen to music too. They make up a large demographic of…music listeners! And it’s good to grab them early on before, you know, they get into…say, jazz or classical. Bebop. Disco. What have you.”
“Murray, one of the kids mooned us.”
“What! No! No, I’m sure they didn’t-”
“And they called us names,” Bret remarked sulkily.
Murray sighed, “Well, Bret, sadly every crowd has a heckler but, I think you guys are doing well. I’m especially proud of you, Bret! Using the catch phrase! Good job, very good job!”
Bret grinned bashfully, “Thanks, Murray.”
Murray licked his lips then, looking apprehensive, “However it, it has come to my attention that, you know, this audience is…rather young so, it-it might be prudent to change up the lyrics a bit.”
“Aw! What!” Jemaine gasped, horrified, “We can’t change our lyrics!”
“Jemaine, the children here, they don’t really like booties shaking at the party. They don’t understand it. That and…some of the parents complained. And a teacher. So, when you go up there and sing that song, the one about the robots, I don’t think you should say that the humans are dead.”
“Mm no, no,” Jemaine shook his head defiantly, crossing his arms, “I’m not changing the lyrics.”
“Jemaine, be reasonable! If you go up there, and you say the humans are dead, the kids…they might believe you. They believe in things! Like…the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny.”
“Santa Claus.” Bret supplied.
Murray looked offended, “Bret! Please! I’m talking about imaginary things here! Things children believe are real! Now Santa, he is real. He’s just as real as Elvis! Or the President! Lochness!”
Bret’s eyes narrowed at this, but Murray ignored him, directing his attention back to a stubborn Jemaine, “If you sing about humans being dead, the children…they might be frightened. Or worse, cry. Do you want to make the children cry, Jemaine?”
Jemaine looked a bit more somber, shaking his head, Murray nodded his head gravely, “Yes, I thought not. Look, just…just make some mention of them being alive. Okay? Maybe you could sing the humans are dead, but then, right after, toss in a ‘not really’. Still can fit in the song. And, at the end, Bret, you can drop the catch phrase again. Repetition. That’s how catch phrases are born!”
Bret and Jemaine went back on to the badly built stage and played another round of songs, finishing up with Robots (The Humans Are (Not Really) Dead). Bret concluded with thanking everyone and telling them not to wait on this one again, which Jemaine yet again chastising him for.
They exited the stage, remarking that, while not exactly what they had envisioned, the fair had been a rather decent gig. But then it was a nice, warm sunny day and the whole area had a nice feel to it. There were book covered tables lining up and down the sidewalks on either side of the street, as well as some food vendors. Young children giggled and skipped about, some holding their parents' hands and others clinging to free helium filled balloons.
Bret made mention of his interest in trying to score a free balloon, as well as his eagerness to pick out his free book. Jemaine, who was not interested in free balloons nor in picking out a children’s book for himself, magnanimously allowed Bret to pick out both of their free books. Goals set; Bret disappeared, leaving Jemaine to gather up their instruments. As he did so, he silently reflected over the last few days, his hands shaking a bit as they passed gently over Bret’s guitar.
Jemaine had found, over time, that touching Bret was becoming easier and easier and he wasn’t quite sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Now when Bret asked for Jemaine to hold his hand or to give him a hug, there was no akward dance towards the actions, there was no internal struggle, there was just an ease, a farmiliarity, as he had all ready done it so many times before.
He knew he shouldn’t get used to it, and what was worse, he shouldn’t be liking it. Not that he did. Not really…except…except sometimes when Bret made a purchase, Jemaine, he almost found himself eager to complete it.
He certainly had become that way about resting, which, in truth, was one of the things that worried him the most. Last night, Bret had started deconstructing the bivouac and Jemaine had come out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and ready for bed only to feel a sinking weight in the center of his stomach as he watched Bret arrange the blankets and sheets back on their respective beds.
“What are you doing?” He’d asked.
“Hm? Oh, nothing, just, putting everything back the way it was.”
Jemaine had found himself involuntarily wringing his hands, “So, you…you don’t want to purchase a…resting, tonight?”
Bret had shaken his head, looking at Jemaine as if it was strange for him to even ask, “No, man. That’s ten dollars. I told you…don’t want to waste all my money.”
Jemaine didn’t know why, but the feeling, the feeling that had started when he’d noticed what Bret was doing, the feeling he didn’t want to name, the feeling that was welling up inside him, was unbearable.
He found his voice sort of breaking when he spoke, “I…maybe I could…it’s on sale.”
Bret frowned, “What?”
“Sale. You know…things go on sale all the time. Like, half price.”
“I wasn’t aware that…you had sales.”
“Only for good clients,” He had tossed out quickly, “So, you know, it’s…it’s not ten dollars.”
Bret had chewed on his bottom lip apprehensively as he had contemplated Jemaine’s offer, “Still, that’s-that’s five dollars-”
“Free then!” Jemaine had snapped so quickly that even he was surprised. And his tone, oh god, had he heard desperation? Quick to cover it, the gears in his mind started turning in full force to come up with a good solution, “I mean it’s…I used to give my good clients…you know, some, some incentive. For - for all their purchases. You’ve-you’ve made a lot of purchases so, you, you deserve a little…something extra.”
“Oh. Okay then.” Bret had seemed easily convienced that this was perfectly normal and had had no problem rearranging the blankets and sheets back on the floor so they could rest together again.
Still, Jemaine was the one who had the problem, which he found himself confronting now. Why had he offered the resting free? Didn’t he still want Bret’s money as quickly as possible?
Taking away one of the bigger purchases wasn’t going to help him achieve his goal. And he couldn’t expect to get to touch Bret forever. Not that he wanted to! No! He wanted to touch a woman. A woman! That’s what he was doing all this for, that’s why he was getting the money from Bret, that’s what he needed! If only he could find a woman to distract him from Bret and these weird feelings…
“Excuse me?”
Jemaine froze the moment he heard the feminine voice behind him. Normally, when he heard a woman’s voice right after a gig, it belonged to Mel, and, as per usual, she was about the last person he ever wanted to see.
Still, this voice didn’t sound as girlish and he turned to see, as if god sent, a rather attractive redheaded woman. She had his full attention as she said primly, “Hello, I’m Miss Adams, one of the teachers of the school I just - well, I wanted to thank your band for playing. It was…interesting.”
“Oh, yes, well, thank you,” Jemaine said smoothly, looking her up and down, “You liked our music?”
“I…it…the children seemed to like it,” She said, blinking rapidly, “Anyway, I just wanted you to know we appreciated you boys coming out.”
“Thank you; I’m, um, Jemaine.” Jemaine held out his hand and Miss Adams shook it quickly. She looked around, “Where is your friend?”
“Hmm? Oh? Him? He’s, um, around.”
“I wanted to thank him too.”
“You really don’t need to. I can tell him, I can,” Jemaine took in a deep breath, as he looked her over again. She sure was pretty. No, she was more than pretty. She was hot. She was…perfect. Jemaine had just been thinking about how a woman might help him out of his predicament. Still, it was hard for him to find the words. He ended up mumbling out a messy, “So you, um, what are you into?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean re…you know, free? Later, I’m…I’m going to be into some money soon so, maybe I can, uh, kebabs and…beers and…”
Miss Adams followed his words a bit then let out a gentle laugh, shaking her head, “Oh, no. No. No, no, no…Mister…Jemaine, I’m-I’m not interested. Sorry.”
Jemaine sighed, deflating, “Of course. Let me guess. You’re interested in Bret. ‘S why you wanted to see him.”
“Bret?”
Jemaine pointed to Bret, who was flipping through a children’s pop-up book with a great amount of enjoyment. Miss Adams smiled, looking a tad shy, “Ah, yes, no. No. I’m-I’m not interested in him either.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Jemaine,” Miss Adams looked amused, “Trust me, I’m not interested in you or your friend. I’m more interested in,” she scanned the crowd, then grinned as she pointed to someone far off in the distance, “Ah, yes, right there.”
Jemaine tried to line up in his vision who she was pointing at. He recoiled when he realized she had directed him to Mel and Doug, who were buying corn dogs, “Ugh! Him? But he’s so-”
“No, no,” Miss Adams laughed again, “Not him. Next to him.”
Jemaine’s eyes scrunched up as he frowned, confused, “But that’s Mel.”
“Oh! You know her?”
“Yeah, but…that’s Mel. She’s a girl.”
“Uh huh.” Miss Adams said with a nod.
“But…you’re a girl.”
“Your point?” Miss Adams asked teasingly.
It finally clicked in Jemaine’s mind and he leaned back, eyes wide, “A-ah! Yes! I-I see…you’re um…you’re-”
“Gay? Yes, I am, and that woman she’s,” Miss Adams sighed dreamily, shaking her head, “Let me just say I’d like to take a bite out of that.”
Jemaine shuddered, “Oh, no, she’s-she’s married.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” Jemaine muttered and tossed out under his breath, “And crazy. Totally crazy.”
Miss Adams didn’t hear the last half and just shook her head sadly, “Mmm. Too bad. I saw her show up before we even had everything set up today. She seemed pretty eager to see you guys play and then, during your performance, I saw her get dragged off towards the back of the fair by a couple of the teachers…I think she had an altercation with one of the students who was teasing your performance. Think it was Bobby Teasdale and a kid like that…yeeeah. He had it coming.”
Miss Adams let out a laugh that made a shiver shoot down Jemaine’s spine. It was a very Mel-ish laugh. She only compacted it, as she continued talking, “Oh well. All the good ones are all ready taken. Let me tell you something, Jemaine, you ever find someone you’re attracted to. Really attracted to, you don’t let them go. You get them. Before it’s too late.”
Jemaine just made a noncommittal sound and Miss Adams sighed, thanking him again and asking him to make sure he passed the thanks on to Bret. Jemaine finished gathering up the instruments as Bret quickly walked over holding two books, a red balloon tied to his wrist, “Hey, I just saw Mel a few minutes ago. I forgot about her being here. She seems pretty distracted with the food right now, so, we should hurry up and get out of here. Before it’s too late.”
Jemaine nodded his agreement, handing Bret’s guitar over to him as he said absent-mindedly, “One of the teachers wanted to thank you. For the show.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, she thanked both of us actually.”
“Which one?”
Jemaine pointed out Miss Adams and Bret blinked a few times, startled, “Wow…she’s…pretty.”
Jemaine frowned, trying to place what emotion was rumbling around inside of him as he returned dryly, “Yeah, she’s all right.”
“You think-”
“She likes girls.”
“Me too.”
“No, Bret, she likes girls. A lot. Like, she told me she was into Mel.”
“Into…Mel…” Bret repeated, then it sank in and he gasped, “No! Really?”
“Yesss.”
“You’re pulling my leg again.”
“No, really. I had to tell her she was married.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Bret shrugged, unfazed, “Oh well. Let’s get our free ice cream and go home.”
Jemaine agreed with a nod. They each got a cone and trudged back to their apartment. Once they reached the stoop, they sat on the steps so they could eat their ice cream before it melted any further.
Bret took a little longer to get settled than Jemaine did, as he had to not only put down his instrument but also had to sit down his books and secure his free balloon so it wouldn’t fly away.
As such, his ice cream had melted quite a bit more than Jemaine’s had and Jemaine found himself having to vehemently ignored Bret as he licked melted ice cream off his fingers. It was, however, harder to avoid when a trickle wound its way down to Bret’s elbow and Bret licked a straight, clear path down almost his entire arm. Jemaine closed his eyes and silently counted to five before speaking, voice somewhat strained, “So, what books did you get?”
Bret, who again didn’t notice Jemaine’s worries, merely smiled brightly as he held up the books, “I got ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and this one about finger painting. It comes with free paint!”
“Finger painting?”
Bret shrugged, “I figured you might like it.”
“Me?”
Bret nodded, “You told me to pick out a book for you.”
“No, Bret, I meant you could just have both of the free books.” However, Jemaine looked at the finger painting book with some interest, “For me, huh?”
Bret merely nodded again, looking pleased as Jemaine took the book from him and began flipping through it. Jemaine looked from his book to Bret’s, “So, ‘Alice in Wonderland’?”
Bret smiled, “Yeah, my mum used to read it to me when she tucked me in.”
“I’ve never read it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s a shame. It’s really good,” Bret said, and then looked at Jemaine as a thought occurred to him. He sort of squinted before saying cautiously, “Hey, Jemaine-”
“Bret! Jemaine! Oh, wow! How weird is it that I ran into you guys, huh?!” Mel chirped cheerfully as she strolled over.
Both Bret and Jemaine looked a bit down as they greeted her, she either ignored it or didn’t notice as she continued, “You guys did great at the book fair! Really! I wanted to congratulate you after the show, but, yeah, some of the teachers made me step back a few feet. And before the show was even over! Can you believe it! I was so furious! So, so furious!”
“Oh yeah?” Bret asked.
“Yeah! Kids these days! And those kids, well, those kids were such snot-nosed, stuck up brats…and so cruel! The things they said and did…during your beautiful, beautiful performance and - and I was just defending, you guys! I mean, just because I put one five year old in a head lock, I don’t think I should be almost escorted off the premises…”
Neither Bret nor Jemaine could think of what to say to that, so Mel continued, “Anyway, after defending your honor, they left me alone off near the food stand and I got a corn dog. It was SO good. I ate the whole thing. I mean the whole thing, literally, it all fit in my mouth and it was pretty big-”
Both Bret and Jemaine looked pretty terrified now and Bret looked ready to get to his feet, remarking, “Yeah, Mel, we’ve...we’ve got to go. Jemaine and I, you know, practice.”
“Yes, practice,” Jemaine said, making a move to stand but Mel scooted forward, holding out a folder that neither man had noticed until now she’d been clutching to her chest, “Wait! I’ve got to give this to you guys!”
Jemaine took the folder warily and handed it over to Bret, who took it with much trepidation, “What-what is it?”
”Oh it’s, it’s just a story I’ve been working on. I thought it was so weird, when I heard you guys were playing at book fair I was like, that’s crazy because here I am writing a book. It’s like fate or kismet, you know, some things…they’re just…meant to be.”
Mel said this with much more conviction than needed and Bret swallowed, hoping to change the subject, “So a book, huh? That’s…nice,” Bret flipped through it a little, frowning, “It’s…long-”
“Yeah…it’s about fifty-five pages but it’s…it’s a work in progress - I’m still a little stuck in the middle….if you know what I mean,” She looked at both Bret and Jemaine meaningfully, then cleared her throat, “I even highlighted my favorite parts for you.”
Bret noticed that most of the text was highlighted as curiosity got the better of Jemaine, and he asked, “What’s it about?”
Mel started playing with hair, chewing on the ends thoughtfully as she spoke, “Oh well…it’s…I don’t want to ruin it for you or anything…but it’s got action and romance and…there’s some comedy in it and... some erotica…”
Bret and Jemaine’s faces were already pretty priceless at this point but got a notch better as Mel added, “And…well…it’s a bit autobiographical…some guest stars in there you might not expect…”
“Practice!” Jemaine interrupted, yet again about to get to his feet when a car suddenly drove up. Doug stuck his head out, looking beat down as usual, “Mel, honey-”
Mel groaned in frustration, “Doug! Oh my god! Can’t you see I’m busy!”
“Yes, I know, but, um, I think…I think one of the teacher’s from the fair is…I think she’s kind of…following us…”
Mel wrinkled her nose, “What? Why…”
Thankful for the distraction, Bret and Jemaine looked at one another and, with a shared nod, got to their feet and prepared to flee. But much to their surprise, Mel merely finished up her conversation with Doug then gave them both a sulky smile and a weak wave, “Well, I know you’ve guys got practice so…I’ll see you later…”
Mel got into the car with Doug and they drove off, disappearing around the corner. A few minutes later another car, as inconspicuously as possible, seemed to follow after them. Bret and Jemaine paid it no mind and instead resumed their seats on the stoop, returning their attention to their still melting ice cream.
“Well, that was…something.” Jemaine remarked as he finished the last of his ice cream and began to nibble on the edible sugar cone.
“Yeah, not like Mel to up and run,” Bret mused, “Nice for us though. Like being out here. Weather’s nice today.”
Jemaine made an agreeable noise in his throat and watched as Bret finished up his own ice cream cone. He smirked as he noticed a smudge of melted ice cream on one side of Bret’s face, “Bret, you’ve…you’ve got something-”
“Hrm?”
“Here-” Jemaine pointed to the spot on Bret’s face, then pointed to his own face, “You’ve got it…it’s about here…some ice cream on your face…”
“Oh!” Bret realized what Jemaine meant and rubbed at his face, still missing the spot, “Did I get it?”
“No, it’s-”
Bret tried again and Jemaine smiled, shaking his head. Thoughtlessly Jemaine reached his hand out and cupped Bret’s face quickly, his thumb brushing the spot away easily. It wasn’t until after he’d drawn his hand away and had his thumb in his mouth that Jemaine realized what he had just done. He almost choked on his thumb then, the taste of ice cream heavy on his tongue.
Bret just sort of stared at him and Jemaine drew his thumb from his mouth, looking away from his friend and clearing his throat, trying to be nonchalant as he said, “There. I…I got it.”
Bret’s swallow was painfully audible to both of them as he croaked out a ‘thank you’.
Jemaine’s mind scattered about, trying to think of some iota of distraction from what had just happened. His eyes cast about and landed, thankfully, on Mel’s folder, “So…you going to read that?”
“Nah, I’ve got my new book so,” Bret remembered something and scratched at his chin nervously. His chin. Near his cheek. Near where Jemaine had touched him. Near where Jemaine had touched him without Bret asking. Bret ignored the shiver that went through him and instead focused back on what he had remembered, “Hey, Jemaine?”
“Yes, Bret.”
“You-you said…you said you’ve never read ‘Alice in Wonderland’ before…”
“Yes?”
“Well…I mean…I could…I could read it to you.”
Jemaine frowned and turned to Bret, “Read it to me?”
“Yeah. Aloud. Like-like one of those books on tape. Except…except it wouldn’t be on tape because I’d just read it to you.”
Jemaine rolled his head about his shoulders, and then nodded, “Yeah…all right.”
“Oh,” Bret breathed out, relieved, as he had worried that Jemaine might think it was a stupid idea, “Oh good, then…maybe…you want me to start reading it now?”
Jemaine took in a deep breath of air. Bret had been right earlier. The weather was really nice today. He nodded and Bret beamed, picking up the book and opening it with relish.
He cleared his throat and began, “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank…”
On to Part 7