Um. This happened. [FIC]
This is a flash-fic, written in about twenty minutes in a single pass, unbetaed except for a run through with a spellchecker, because it really doesn't deserve more than that.
This is for sungaizing85, because she makes me laugh, and hopefully this will return the favour. She begged me yesterday for Haruka/Michiru fic, and for a crossover. I'm pretty sure that this is not at all what she had in mind.
Edited to add - posted a cleaned-up slightly-better draft over at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/480557
Title: World Shaking
Word Count: 661
Series: Sailor Moon/QAF (YEAH. I SAID IT.)
Relationships/Characters: Michiru/Haruka, the QAF gang (mostly Ted and Emmett)
Timeline: Somewhere mid-season 5 of QAF, Emmett is the Queer Guy.
Rating: Gen
“Ted Schmidt.”
“Ohmygodohmygodohmy GOD, Teddy!”
“Em? What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m at the station”
“The police station? What happened? Do you need bail money for something?”
“Channel five, silly. And oh my GOD you should see this guy! He’s here with some musician, a violinist, the entertainment team is doing an interview. And he is to die for.”
“Oh really? Spill. Leave no detail undescribed. Is he a musician?”
“I think he’s her tour manager? Maybe a bodyguard? I can’t tell; he’s not on camera, just standing back against the wall and scowling at everyone. Bleach blond hair, a little bit long. I think his eyes are blue, so that’s got to be contacts. Japanese guys don’t normally have blue eyes, do they? He’s a bit short, maybe about your height?”
“Hey!”
“Sorry, Teddy. He’s slimmer than I usually like, but well, I can make exceptions…”
“Cock?”
“Can’t tell. His pants are too loose. Expensive suit, though, verrrry nice.”
“So he’s got money - probably not the bodyguard, then.”
“Hmm, maybe. Oh, oh, wait, he’s moving, he’s talking to the station manager, and oh my god, his ass is unbelievable. I think he’s a runner. He’s got to be a runner. That’s a runner’s ass. And that smile! If he’s not a top, I’ll eat - well, you know.”
“He might not be gay, Em.”
“Straight, with a mouth like that? That’d be a crime against nature! ”
“So what’s the plan? Ask him for a drink?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t come up with one yet. I only have about fifteen minutes between the interview and when Miss Kaiou is performing-”
“Wait, Michiru Kaiou, the concert violinist?”
“That’s her!”
“I’ve got tickets to the show tonight - did you want to come along?”
“Teddy, you are the best friend a boy could ever have.”
“Why thank you, Em. So here’s what you’re going to do - fifteen minutes is enough time, go to his dressing room, walk in like you thought it was someone else’s. He’ll be caught off guard, you say hi, be your usual adorable self, and let fate take it from there.”
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“It worked in every single one of the Backstage Backdoor movies, and there were seven sequels.”
“Right. The interview’s wrapping up now. Wish me luck!”
**
“Don’t look now, but here comes Emmett,” Michael hung over the handlebars of the stationary bike and nudged Ted in the ribs. “How do you think things went with Hot Japanese Bodyguard?”
Ben slung his towel around his neck and shook his head, a frown line creasing his brow as Emmett stormed towards them still in his street clothes, a dark thundercloud almost visibly hanging over his head. “Not that well, by the looks of things.”
“Oh oh,” Ted breathed out, and Brian paused at the apex of a situp to grin at him expectantly.
“So much for your master plan, Theodore?”
Emmett skidded to a halt in front them and waved an accusatory hand at Ted, flustered enough for the moment to be utterly incapable of speech.
“Not a top?” Ted ventured, setting his water bottle down and leaning on the handlebars of the bike he was straddling.
“Not a MAN, Ted.” Emmett spat out, finding his voice. He jabbed an accusatory finger at the centre of Ted’s chest. “Breasts, Teddy. BREASTS. TWO PAIRS.”
Michael looked stunned. “He has two pairs of breasts?”
“Worse. LESBIANS.” Emmett hissed. Multiple pairs of eyes went wide.
Emmett pointed at his own eyes with two fingers. “These eyes, Ted, have seen things that can never be unseen.” He groaned, straightened, and tugged down his shirt with a flourish. “I feel so…" he flapped one hand around, as though looking for the right word. "Unclean.” He turned, with a deliberate and elegant flounce, and headed off towards the showers, accompanied by the laughter that Ted, at least, had tried to keep under control. Brian had no such compunctions.
“So,” Ted shook his head a minute later, still grinning. “Anyone else want that second concert ticket?”
This is for sungaizing85, because she makes me laugh, and hopefully this will return the favour. She begged me yesterday for Haruka/Michiru fic, and for a crossover. I'm pretty sure that this is not at all what she had in mind.
Edited to add - posted a cleaned-up slightly-better draft over at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/480557
Title: World Shaking
Word Count: 661
Series: Sailor Moon/QAF (YEAH. I SAID IT.)
Relationships/Characters: Michiru/Haruka, the QAF gang (mostly Ted and Emmett)
Timeline: Somewhere mid-season 5 of QAF, Emmett is the Queer Guy.
Rating: Gen
“Ted Schmidt.”
“Ohmygodohmygodohmy GOD, Teddy!”
“Em? What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m at the station”
“The police station? What happened? Do you need bail money for something?”
“Channel five, silly. And oh my GOD you should see this guy! He’s here with some musician, a violinist, the entertainment team is doing an interview. And he is to die for.”
“Oh really? Spill. Leave no detail undescribed. Is he a musician?”
“I think he’s her tour manager? Maybe a bodyguard? I can’t tell; he’s not on camera, just standing back against the wall and scowling at everyone. Bleach blond hair, a little bit long. I think his eyes are blue, so that’s got to be contacts. Japanese guys don’t normally have blue eyes, do they? He’s a bit short, maybe about your height?”
“Hey!”
“Sorry, Teddy. He’s slimmer than I usually like, but well, I can make exceptions…”
“Cock?”
“Can’t tell. His pants are too loose. Expensive suit, though, verrrry nice.”
“So he’s got money - probably not the bodyguard, then.”
“Hmm, maybe. Oh, oh, wait, he’s moving, he’s talking to the station manager, and oh my god, his ass is unbelievable. I think he’s a runner. He’s got to be a runner. That’s a runner’s ass. And that smile! If he’s not a top, I’ll eat - well, you know.”
“He might not be gay, Em.”
“Straight, with a mouth like that? That’d be a crime against nature! ”
“So what’s the plan? Ask him for a drink?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t come up with one yet. I only have about fifteen minutes between the interview and when Miss Kaiou is performing-”
“Wait, Michiru Kaiou, the concert violinist?”
“That’s her!”
“I’ve got tickets to the show tonight - did you want to come along?”
“Teddy, you are the best friend a boy could ever have.”
“Why thank you, Em. So here’s what you’re going to do - fifteen minutes is enough time, go to his dressing room, walk in like you thought it was someone else’s. He’ll be caught off guard, you say hi, be your usual adorable self, and let fate take it from there.”
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“It worked in every single one of the Backstage Backdoor movies, and there were seven sequels.”
“Right. The interview’s wrapping up now. Wish me luck!”
**
“Don’t look now, but here comes Emmett,” Michael hung over the handlebars of the stationary bike and nudged Ted in the ribs. “How do you think things went with Hot Japanese Bodyguard?”
Ben slung his towel around his neck and shook his head, a frown line creasing his brow as Emmett stormed towards them still in his street clothes, a dark thundercloud almost visibly hanging over his head. “Not that well, by the looks of things.”
“Oh oh,” Ted breathed out, and Brian paused at the apex of a situp to grin at him expectantly.
“So much for your master plan, Theodore?”
Emmett skidded to a halt in front them and waved an accusatory hand at Ted, flustered enough for the moment to be utterly incapable of speech.
“Not a top?” Ted ventured, setting his water bottle down and leaning on the handlebars of the bike he was straddling.
“Not a MAN, Ted.” Emmett spat out, finding his voice. He jabbed an accusatory finger at the centre of Ted’s chest. “Breasts, Teddy. BREASTS. TWO PAIRS.”
Michael looked stunned. “He has two pairs of breasts?”
“Worse. LESBIANS.” Emmett hissed. Multiple pairs of eyes went wide.
Emmett pointed at his own eyes with two fingers. “These eyes, Ted, have seen things that can never be unseen.” He groaned, straightened, and tugged down his shirt with a flourish. “I feel so…" he flapped one hand around, as though looking for the right word. "Unclean.” He turned, with a deliberate and elegant flounce, and headed off towards the showers, accompanied by the laughter that Ted, at least, had tried to keep under control. Brian had no such compunctions.
“So,” Ted shook his head a minute later, still grinning. “Anyone else want that second concert ticket?”