FICLET: Lookalike
Title: Lookalike
Author: vensre
Starring: Jamie & Geoff
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The way I can imagine is not the true Way.
Notes: Beta and much-needed encouragement by fizzyblogic.
~:
"Are you Charlie Pace?"
Geoff blinked at the stranger addressing him, who was staring at him with an expression uncomfortably close to worship. "...No. Who?"
"You. You look just like him. You're sure?"
"Sure that I'm not somebody else?" Heh. "Yes. Very Sure. Geoff Shawcross." He put out his hand, attempting to salvage the situation, but the other lad only glanced at it. And resumed staring.
"Very sure," he repeated reluctantly.
Geoff supposed most people would be more discomfited at this point, but curiosity had already taken over, and he was finding the encounter oddly charming. He smiled and met the other's eyes, who looked away, flushing, then kept peeking back. "Who are you?" Geoff inquired gently.
"Jamie Holmes, good afternoon how are you I'm fine, thanks very much."
... "And who is it I look like?"
Jamie seemed to expand a little with held-in excitement. "The bassist from DriveSHAFT. You look just like him, so much. Only your hair is different. He's my favourite," he added unnecessarily.
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Oh, no! Not a disappointment, this, not at all, I mean... I'm not at all sure I'd survive meeting him for real. Suspect my head would explode." Geoff chuckled, and Jamie smiled a little and seemed to relax marginally. "And you do look so like him. It's like meeting him, only without the brains everywhere."
"And without the music." Geoff was trying to remember what desperately overplayed song it was that DriveSHAFT had done, without success.
"And without the music," Jamie agreed. "Or crowds or groupies to fight off. Lucky, that."
"I know, man, I've never been so glad not to be famous."
"Just..." Jamie fell silent, lifting his eyes to Geoff's face, taking him in. Geoff felt almost pinned by his gaze, not wanting to disturb the image he seemed to be saving. He wondered a bit awkwardly if Jamie was seeing him or that musician. At last he was released when Jamie looked away. The quiet had grown long and heavy; Geoff was about to try saying something - anything - to end the silence, when Jamie spoke again. "So I know all about Charlie Pace, but he doesn't know me. And he has no reason to take the time to talk to me, even if I could... But." He smiled, a sweet, impish grin. "Neither does Geoff Shawcross have any reason, yet here you are."
Geoff tilted his head, amused. "True enough."
"Which, to me, means..." his forehead wrinkled, "hold on a moment." Jamie fumbled in his pockets, came up with a pen and a scrap of receipt, and scribbled something on the back. He looked up - "it means, I think, that you might email me as well." He thrust the piece of paper into Geoff's hand, ducked his head, and beat a determined retreat, scuttling hastily around the corner of a nearby storefront.
Geoff pondered pursuing him, but discarded that idea quickly. No point in freaking the guy out any further than he was already freaked. Which seemed a considerable amount. The paper in his hand contained a barely legible email address and a scrawl that was probably Jamie. He tucked it into his wallet, thinking that he might just use it after all. Now, back to his errand...
...Of which he had no memory whatsoever. Even logic and extrapolation couldn't jar loose the knowledge of what he was out here to do, not after that thorough of a distraction. He got his mobile out, preparing himself to be savagely teased by Hetty for this.
In his head, he was already composing an email to Jamie about it.
:~
Author: vensre
Starring: Jamie & Geoff
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The way I can imagine is not the true Way.
Notes: Beta and much-needed encouragement by fizzyblogic.
~:
"Are you Charlie Pace?"
Geoff blinked at the stranger addressing him, who was staring at him with an expression uncomfortably close to worship. "...No. Who?"
"You. You look just like him. You're sure?"
"Sure that I'm not somebody else?" Heh. "Yes. Very Sure. Geoff Shawcross." He put out his hand, attempting to salvage the situation, but the other lad only glanced at it. And resumed staring.
"Very sure," he repeated reluctantly.
Geoff supposed most people would be more discomfited at this point, but curiosity had already taken over, and he was finding the encounter oddly charming. He smiled and met the other's eyes, who looked away, flushing, then kept peeking back. "Who are you?" Geoff inquired gently.
"Jamie Holmes, good afternoon how are you I'm fine, thanks very much."
... "And who is it I look like?"
Jamie seemed to expand a little with held-in excitement. "The bassist from DriveSHAFT. You look just like him, so much. Only your hair is different. He's my favourite," he added unnecessarily.
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Oh, no! Not a disappointment, this, not at all, I mean... I'm not at all sure I'd survive meeting him for real. Suspect my head would explode." Geoff chuckled, and Jamie smiled a little and seemed to relax marginally. "And you do look so like him. It's like meeting him, only without the brains everywhere."
"And without the music." Geoff was trying to remember what desperately overplayed song it was that DriveSHAFT had done, without success.
"And without the music," Jamie agreed. "Or crowds or groupies to fight off. Lucky, that."
"I know, man, I've never been so glad not to be famous."
"Just..." Jamie fell silent, lifting his eyes to Geoff's face, taking him in. Geoff felt almost pinned by his gaze, not wanting to disturb the image he seemed to be saving. He wondered a bit awkwardly if Jamie was seeing him or that musician. At last he was released when Jamie looked away. The quiet had grown long and heavy; Geoff was about to try saying something - anything - to end the silence, when Jamie spoke again. "So I know all about Charlie Pace, but he doesn't know me. And he has no reason to take the time to talk to me, even if I could... But." He smiled, a sweet, impish grin. "Neither does Geoff Shawcross have any reason, yet here you are."
Geoff tilted his head, amused. "True enough."
"Which, to me, means..." his forehead wrinkled, "hold on a moment." Jamie fumbled in his pockets, came up with a pen and a scrap of receipt, and scribbled something on the back. He looked up - "it means, I think, that you might email me as well." He thrust the piece of paper into Geoff's hand, ducked his head, and beat a determined retreat, scuttling hastily around the corner of a nearby storefront.
Geoff pondered pursuing him, but discarded that idea quickly. No point in freaking the guy out any further than he was already freaked. Which seemed a considerable amount. The paper in his hand contained a barely legible email address and a scrawl that was probably Jamie. He tucked it into his wallet, thinking that he might just use it after all. Now, back to his errand...
...Of which he had no memory whatsoever. Even logic and extrapolation couldn't jar loose the knowledge of what he was out here to do, not after that thorough of a distraction. He got his mobile out, preparing himself to be savagely teased by Hetty for this.
In his head, he was already composing an email to Jamie about it.
:~