(no subject)
OOC: This is a story I wrote mainly inspired by Jess. In fact, totally inspired by Jess. Anyway, I kinda didn't ask people if I could borrow their charries (sorry guys!) so Tell belongs to Jess, Kaylee and Josh to Inge, and Zach and Elise to CW. Also, yes, I am aware that I cannot spell pool cue or que or whatever.
“Oh - is that a kangaroo?”
“No, it’s a pumpkin …”
“It’s so adorable!”
Tell had finally learnt the art of ignoring Tim’s snide, insulting comments. She had decided that he required people to insult on a daily (or hourly) basis in order to survive every day life. Though she knew it was more than that, this logic seemed to work quite well.
Adam put the next photo down on the table, and slid it across.
“And this was … um … Canberra. Don’t ask me why we went there. Capital and all, should’ve been interesting. Wasn’t.”
“Donovan?” said Tim, in a mildly amused tone.
“Yeah, Timmy?”
“Never call me that. Did you take a photo of that half-witted police officer?”
Adam leaned over to look over Tim’s shoulder. He grinned a little at the scene of himself ten years younger with another man, their arms tight around the shoulders of a red faced police officer, apparently by the name of Stan.
“Oh yeah, he liked it,” nodded Adam, moving on to the next picture. “I believe that’s a lawn mower. Let me just inform you all now, we did get a little friendly with the beer over there …” he paused. “It didn’t get friendly with us.”
“Is that your idea of a joke, Donovan?” sighed Elise, rolling her eyes as she picked up the next picture.
Adam just grinned at her, happy he’d heard a laugh somewhere around the table. There were far too many people there to keep track of now - though Lord knows, he was trying.
“You almost end up in hospital ‘cuz of a bar fight and the guy doesn’t do a thing - but you take a photo of him?” Tim continued, apparently caring about this a whole lot more than anyone there had heard about him care about anything - ever.
Adam shrugged.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Look,” sighed Tim. “I know you had the urge to shoot him with something, Donovan, and I do realize half your brain cells that hadn’t been killed by the amount of alcohol you’d consumed were killed the moment that cretin punched you in the head …”
“You got into a pub brawl down under?” asked Zach, suddenly interested, thus giving Tim no chance to continue whatever grumbling rant he hand in mind.
“Oh - it was nothing,” said Adam, dismissively. “Just a guy there who didn’t really like us very much.”
“Got a bit too friendly with his girl did ya?” asked Josh.
“He thought he could play pool, actually,” replied Adam, with a snort. “He was mistaken.”
“And Donovan was quite happy to prove that to him,” added Tim. “That was until the drunken wastrel knocked him out with a pool que.”
“He did not knock me out …” protested Adam. “Barely gave me a bruise. Do you know how flimsy those things are?”
“Yes,” groaned Tim. “I have actually played a game of pool before, despite what you may believe about my tendency to socialize.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Elise.
“So did he punch you?” asked Kaylee.
“Yeah - well, he punched the wall, and the bar, and the … uh … side of my arm once on a lucky shot,” nodded Adam. “Drunks have no coordination, though,” he added haughtily.
“Good god, Donovan, you weren’t jeering at him, were you?” asked Elise suddenly.
“No! Of course not! Why would I do such a thing?” asked a very scandalized Adam.
“What? With your history of nicely timed, stupid remarks?” said Tim. “Can’t possibly think of a reason.”
“Yeah, come on - we wanna hear about the fight!” urged Chris.
This was apparently something Adam was quite eager to share.
“The first blow was a might cowardly, I admit,” he began. “Came from behind, and with the pool cue - luckily it was only a pool cue. Didn’t hurt much. I ducked the next one. Then he grabbed my throat and slammed me into the wall.”
“Are the actions really quite necessary?” asked Tim.
“Yes,” nodded Adam, continuing his theatrics. “Well, I punched him in the chest then - with as much force as I could, considering the bloke was about two inches from me. He staggered back then and I was prepared to stop - but he kept going at me like - a bull on speed or something.”
“And no one else did anything?” asked Kayla, who was listening intently, wide-eyed.
“I guess it’s part of the culture down there,” shrugged Tim bitterly.
“And then the police came,” went on Adam.
“Wait - you had bruises all over your face and they didn’t arrest the guy?” asked Harrison. “What, did they think you punched up yourself?”
“Oh, no, they got that there was a fight there, but they just stopped it and instead of having us both arrested, they let us both go.”
“There were witnesses, right? To the fact that it was self-defense?”
“No, it wasn’t that,” shrugged Adam, and pointed to the photo of the police officer as he spoke. “He just smelt the beer on our breath and -”
“Didn’t take anyone’s word for it,” grumbled Tim.
Adam was grinning at him. Tim stared stolidly back for a while.
“What?”
Adam continued to grin, but turned to looked at everyone else.
“He vouched for me.”
Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Tim at this moment.
“What?!” Tim said in an entirely different tone of voice now. “Will you stop telling people that? I did not!” he assured everyone.
“Come on, don’t be so modest,” replied Adam, still beaming. “You wanted to march right up to the police station - right after you’d boarded the plane and come over - and given them a piece of your mind.”
“What makes you think I’d have done anything as bothersome as that?” blinked Tim.
“What did you do, Stackhouse?” asked Elise, curiously.
Tim opened his mouth to respond, but Adam beat him to it.
“He wrote a letter …” he began.
Elise snorted.
“You wrote a letter of disdain?”
“He even got his CO to express disgust at the situation and the police officer involved,” went on Adam, proudly.
Tim, however, was shifting in his seat.
“I keep telling you, he did that of his own devices …”
“He mysteriously heard about this random incident in Australia?” blinked Mags.
Tim stared at her for a moment, and then made a gesture encompassing all the Jacksons’ present.
“Why are you guys even here? You lived in Australia!”
They shrugged.
“Like to see how others find it,” said Mags.
“It’s funny when Americans talk about it especially,” nodded Ellie.
“And, hey, it was Adam,” said Chris. “We wanted to hear about what kind of disasters he induced.”
“So you tried to get the guy fired?” said Elise, now fingering the photo. “Poor old … Stan,” she said, reading off the name.
“Weren’t there witnesses?” said Tell after a time.
“Yeah,” Adam shrugged. “But they all smelt of alcohol too. Funny, too, in a pub.”
“This cop sounds like one of those guys you used to pick on in high school,” said Ellie to Chris, who pursed his lips and, when she put her head down, shook his head vigorously at the others.
“No, the guy didn’t get fired,” said Tim rather huffily, glaring at everyone.
“The important thing,” said Adam, conclusively. “Is that Tim vouched for me.”
“What exactly did this letter of disdain say?” asked Elise, a grin planted on her features.
Tim glowered.
“Oh - he was just writing about how amiable my nature is and that I would never start such a brawl, that I was always a good student, my marks, all that kind of thing.”
“That’s so sweet!” said Tell.
“No it isn’t!” protested Tim.
Everyone was grinning at Tim by now.
“Oh, shut up.”
With these last words, Tim got up and walked huffily away to his room.
“He loves me,” declared Adam.
“Can’t possibly see a reason not to,” said Elise.
“… is that you in the Yarra?”
“What’s the Yarra?”
“It’s a river.”
“A river you don’t swim in - for oh so many reasons.”
“Oh - is that a kangaroo?”
“No, it’s a pumpkin …”
“It’s so adorable!”
Tell had finally learnt the art of ignoring Tim’s snide, insulting comments. She had decided that he required people to insult on a daily (or hourly) basis in order to survive every day life. Though she knew it was more than that, this logic seemed to work quite well.
Adam put the next photo down on the table, and slid it across.
“And this was … um … Canberra. Don’t ask me why we went there. Capital and all, should’ve been interesting. Wasn’t.”
“Donovan?” said Tim, in a mildly amused tone.
“Yeah, Timmy?”
“Never call me that. Did you take a photo of that half-witted police officer?”
Adam leaned over to look over Tim’s shoulder. He grinned a little at the scene of himself ten years younger with another man, their arms tight around the shoulders of a red faced police officer, apparently by the name of Stan.
“Oh yeah, he liked it,” nodded Adam, moving on to the next picture. “I believe that’s a lawn mower. Let me just inform you all now, we did get a little friendly with the beer over there …” he paused. “It didn’t get friendly with us.”
“Is that your idea of a joke, Donovan?” sighed Elise, rolling her eyes as she picked up the next picture.
Adam just grinned at her, happy he’d heard a laugh somewhere around the table. There were far too many people there to keep track of now - though Lord knows, he was trying.
“You almost end up in hospital ‘cuz of a bar fight and the guy doesn’t do a thing - but you take a photo of him?” Tim continued, apparently caring about this a whole lot more than anyone there had heard about him care about anything - ever.
Adam shrugged.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Look,” sighed Tim. “I know you had the urge to shoot him with something, Donovan, and I do realize half your brain cells that hadn’t been killed by the amount of alcohol you’d consumed were killed the moment that cretin punched you in the head …”
“You got into a pub brawl down under?” asked Zach, suddenly interested, thus giving Tim no chance to continue whatever grumbling rant he hand in mind.
“Oh - it was nothing,” said Adam, dismissively. “Just a guy there who didn’t really like us very much.”
“Got a bit too friendly with his girl did ya?” asked Josh.
“He thought he could play pool, actually,” replied Adam, with a snort. “He was mistaken.”
“And Donovan was quite happy to prove that to him,” added Tim. “That was until the drunken wastrel knocked him out with a pool que.”
“He did not knock me out …” protested Adam. “Barely gave me a bruise. Do you know how flimsy those things are?”
“Yes,” groaned Tim. “I have actually played a game of pool before, despite what you may believe about my tendency to socialize.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Elise.
“So did he punch you?” asked Kaylee.
“Yeah - well, he punched the wall, and the bar, and the … uh … side of my arm once on a lucky shot,” nodded Adam. “Drunks have no coordination, though,” he added haughtily.
“Good god, Donovan, you weren’t jeering at him, were you?” asked Elise suddenly.
“No! Of course not! Why would I do such a thing?” asked a very scandalized Adam.
“What? With your history of nicely timed, stupid remarks?” said Tim. “Can’t possibly think of a reason.”
“Yeah, come on - we wanna hear about the fight!” urged Chris.
This was apparently something Adam was quite eager to share.
“The first blow was a might cowardly, I admit,” he began. “Came from behind, and with the pool cue - luckily it was only a pool cue. Didn’t hurt much. I ducked the next one. Then he grabbed my throat and slammed me into the wall.”
“Are the actions really quite necessary?” asked Tim.
“Yes,” nodded Adam, continuing his theatrics. “Well, I punched him in the chest then - with as much force as I could, considering the bloke was about two inches from me. He staggered back then and I was prepared to stop - but he kept going at me like - a bull on speed or something.”
“And no one else did anything?” asked Kayla, who was listening intently, wide-eyed.
“I guess it’s part of the culture down there,” shrugged Tim bitterly.
“And then the police came,” went on Adam.
“Wait - you had bruises all over your face and they didn’t arrest the guy?” asked Harrison. “What, did they think you punched up yourself?”
“Oh, no, they got that there was a fight there, but they just stopped it and instead of having us both arrested, they let us both go.”
“There were witnesses, right? To the fact that it was self-defense?”
“No, it wasn’t that,” shrugged Adam, and pointed to the photo of the police officer as he spoke. “He just smelt the beer on our breath and -”
“Didn’t take anyone’s word for it,” grumbled Tim.
Adam was grinning at him. Tim stared stolidly back for a while.
“What?”
Adam continued to grin, but turned to looked at everyone else.
“He vouched for me.”
Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Tim at this moment.
“What?!” Tim said in an entirely different tone of voice now. “Will you stop telling people that? I did not!” he assured everyone.
“Come on, don’t be so modest,” replied Adam, still beaming. “You wanted to march right up to the police station - right after you’d boarded the plane and come over - and given them a piece of your mind.”
“What makes you think I’d have done anything as bothersome as that?” blinked Tim.
“What did you do, Stackhouse?” asked Elise, curiously.
Tim opened his mouth to respond, but Adam beat him to it.
“He wrote a letter …” he began.
Elise snorted.
“You wrote a letter of disdain?”
“He even got his CO to express disgust at the situation and the police officer involved,” went on Adam, proudly.
Tim, however, was shifting in his seat.
“I keep telling you, he did that of his own devices …”
“He mysteriously heard about this random incident in Australia?” blinked Mags.
Tim stared at her for a moment, and then made a gesture encompassing all the Jacksons’ present.
“Why are you guys even here? You lived in Australia!”
They shrugged.
“Like to see how others find it,” said Mags.
“It’s funny when Americans talk about it especially,” nodded Ellie.
“And, hey, it was Adam,” said Chris. “We wanted to hear about what kind of disasters he induced.”
“So you tried to get the guy fired?” said Elise, now fingering the photo. “Poor old … Stan,” she said, reading off the name.
“Weren’t there witnesses?” said Tell after a time.
“Yeah,” Adam shrugged. “But they all smelt of alcohol too. Funny, too, in a pub.”
“This cop sounds like one of those guys you used to pick on in high school,” said Ellie to Chris, who pursed his lips and, when she put her head down, shook his head vigorously at the others.
“No, the guy didn’t get fired,” said Tim rather huffily, glaring at everyone.
“The important thing,” said Adam, conclusively. “Is that Tim vouched for me.”
“What exactly did this letter of disdain say?” asked Elise, a grin planted on her features.
Tim glowered.
“Oh - he was just writing about how amiable my nature is and that I would never start such a brawl, that I was always a good student, my marks, all that kind of thing.”
“That’s so sweet!” said Tell.
“No it isn’t!” protested Tim.
Everyone was grinning at Tim by now.
“Oh, shut up.”
With these last words, Tim got up and walked huffily away to his room.
“He loves me,” declared Adam.
“Can’t possibly see a reason not to,” said Elise.
“… is that you in the Yarra?”
“What’s the Yarra?”
“It’s a river.”
“A river you don’t swim in - for oh so many reasons.”