Bros and Flamingos

[flamingodenny]

Who: Denny, Barney, Alan Shore.
What: Alan's ill-timed arrival.
When: Afternoon.
Where: The Balcony.
Rating: F for Flamingos
Status: Incomplete

Comments

fixed it for real, really!

[flamingoalan]

The plane ride had been hellish. First, there had been the kerfluffle at TSA over Denny's favorite cigar knife, which he had conveniently forgotten in Alan's travel bag. Then the seat-kicking child and the lack of meals in the aircraft, which had been late arriving in Boston. Finally, there had been the half hour of circling above Toronto, in queue for a landing slot that seemed like it would never come. Alan had wanted to watch the latest Bang Bros (bad habit, soothed him when stressed) but the other child--same endlessly large family--looking over his shoulder had forced him to watch The Princess Bride instead, and guilt had forced him to share.

Then his iPod's battery had died, and he had been forced to do nothing at all, except to fake reading a sheaf of papers from his briefcase in order to prevent said child from pestering him about how the movie ended.

The child's father, meanwhile, slumbered in blissful oblivion to Alan's other side, elbow intruding insouciantly into Alan's space.

Why had Denny not seen fit to send the Gulfstream?

At last, the Flight from Alan Shore's Personal Hell descended upon Toronto and Alan staggered through customs, immigration, the baggage claim (his luggage was lost, of course) and out into the blessedly cold night in search of Denny's car. Into the quiet back seat, which smelled, reassuringly, of leather; one quick call to Denny, and then Alan settled in and let the big, solid car--and Denny's driver--carry him to the bosom of quiet, manly companionship.

Later, he walked in to the house on the lake, straight through the open main space, carry-on still in hand, hurrying gladly to the long-awaited reunion, the one they had shown in the previews, looked through the glass door to the promised balcony.

And saw another man in his chair. Cigar and all.

Re: fixed it for real, really!

[flamingodenny]

Denny laughed, a strange sort of hybrid between a belly laugh and a cackle. He looked at Barney and pointed at himself with his cigar. "Hey, if she tries to con me out of MY suit, she'll be forgetting one thing: I'm Denny Crane!"

He took a long puff of the cigar, then set it down in favor of the glass. "I like you, Barney. You think like me and, well, how could that be better?" He raised his glass. "To bros."

Re: fixed it for real, really!

[going_inmy_blog]

Barney grinned, "True enough!" Denny was..like Yoda! Without the withering green skin and shortness. He was Broda, really.

"I can't see anything being better than two men who think awesomely similar." He lifted his own glass. "To bros." Then took a drink.

oh crud you said it was afternoon and I said it was night.

[flamingoalan]

Alan had seen enough.

He deposited his carry-on beside a potted palm, sliding the door aside and stepping through onto the slatted wooden deck. The balcony had everything: the wide, comfortable chairs, just like the ones in Boston; the little side table for the brandy and ashtray; even the view, though endless gray water and the barest intimation of an opposite shore differed wildly from Crane, Poole & Schmidt's vista of the Charles River and the Back Bay.

"What's this?" he demanded hotly.

Re: oh crud you said it was afternoon and I said it was night.

[flamingodenny]

With a start, Denny dropped his glass of brandy. It spilled all over the table and began dripping onto the deck. How did Alan walk out without being heard? He looked back at him pleadingly.

"Alan! This isn't what it looks like!"

[going_inmy_blog]

Barney was blissfully ignorant. For about five seconds. Then screwed up his face in a non-plussed sort of look. For some reason, Alan wasn't wanting to join them? "Have a seat!" Barney said with a boyish grin. "Denny's been waiting for you!"

[flamingoalan]

Indignant, Alan approached the overstuffed armchairs. "You are in my seat," he said tightly to the stranger.

He turned to Denny, blocking the younger man's presence from his visual field with an overcoat-covered back as he leaned over his friend's seated form. "Denny, can I speak to you? Alone?"

[flamingodenny]

Alan's stare nearly petrified Denny. He had envisioned their reunion to be filled with hugs, drinks, and perhaps women, and now here was his best friend, breathing fire into his face.

"Yes, of course. Let me explain!" he stammered to his friend.

He leaned to his left, so he could see Barney, and stuck his hands out in an "everything will be okay" gesture. Then he heaved himself up and waited for Alan to lead on.

[going_inmy_blog]

He lifted his eyebrows curiously, and nodded. Sure he'd hang back. Taking a slow drink, Barney watched the two leave from earshot.