And It All Boils Down
Well, on the heels of the next to last chapter of my BoB/DW crossover saga I now present to you another installment of - no, it doesn't ever die - the original Big Damn Modern Day AU of Doom. This one's starting to wind down, too. Only two chapters left after this part.
Once again, it's been a blast writing this cracked out saga and I hope you've enjoyed the ride.
Title: Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway - Part Eleven
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: mentions of past Nixon/Cathy, a smattering of Harry/Kittie, attempted Buck/anyone with a pulse, mention of slight past Roe/Winters, eventual Nixon/Winters, implied Muck/Malarkey
Word Count: 1,414 for Part Eleven
Rating: R
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is the original saga of the Big Damn Modern Day AU of Doom, and it is unabashedly inspired by the Finger Eleven song, “Paralyzer.” Written in honor of ladyames and with special thanks to foofighter0234, alouette_sparra, and melliyna.
~x~x~
“Jesus Christ, Harry, where the hell have you been?” Buck Compton asked, smacking his friend on the arm. “I was starting to think you might of accidentally flushed yourself down the toilet or something.”
Harry Welsh just smiled, tongue between his teeth. “Your confidence in me is staggering, Buck.”
Buck shook his head, smirking.
“Anyway, as much of a blast as this has been, I think I’m about to turn into a pumpkin,” Harry announced.
“You’re leaving already?”
“What do you mean ‘already?’ We’ve been here for hours, in case you hadn’t noticed. Some of us have to work in the morning and we don’t all have jobs that let us hide behind a desk and some paperwork, you know?”
“Hey, my job is more than a desk and a stack of papers.”
“Yeah, right, whatever. If you think you can handle a room full of sixth graders with a hangover then you let me know because I’ll gladly trade places with you.”
Buck looked thoughtful and then quipped, “I was unaware of the fact that your average sixth grader turned up to class hungover.”
“Shut up, Buck.”
They laughed.
“So how much do I owe you for…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Buck responded, waving a dismissive hand at the way Harry reached for his wallet. “Drinks are on me tonight.”
“Holy shit, Buck, are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea what kind of tab we’ve got going on at the bar? I drank like a fucking fish and that ain’t even counting whatever the hell you and Nix have been ordering all night. Jesus Christ, Nix alone could buy every last bottle of Vat 69 in the bar.”
“Yeah, well, Nix can afford to buy the entire bar if he really wanted to but that’s not the point.”
“So what is the point?”
“Just don’t worry about it, okay? I got a bonus for the way I handled my last case so I’ll take care of this.”
“Seriously?”
Buck nodded. “Yeah. Listen, you’re not exactly raking in the dough working for the Board of Ed so I’m not going to expect you to pay. And while Nix and I haven’t always been on the best of terms, I’m not going to stick him with the Goddamn bill one the day he signed his divorce papers…even if he is a filthy rich bastard. He’s a real pain in the ass sometimes but I’m not going to be that malicious to him.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. That’s real big of you, Buck. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, whatever…”
“No, seriously, it’s good to see you and Nix talking to each other again. I know the two of you haven’t always seen eye to eye but it’s great that you’re getting along now.”
“Well, it does help to have you around.”
“Why? So you and Nix can have someone to gang up on?”
“Pretty much.”
There was another round of laughter but Harry was moving towards the door and Buck followed.
“Where’s Nix?” Harry asked.
“He’s still outside having a smoke.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
Buck frowned quizzically. “I’m surprised at you, Harry. Aren’t you going to say goodbye to that pretty barmaid of yours?”
Harry smiled wolfishly. “Oh believe me, I already have…and just so you know? Kittie definitely likes me.”
Buck laughed. “You sly dog, good for you. Did you get her number?”
“Name, phone number, e-mail address, and a date for next week.”
Buck whooped, clapping the other young man on the back. “Harry Welsh, smooth operator. I take everything back: you are a Lothario extraordinaire.”
Harry didn’t stop grinning. “I told you she liked me.”
~
“You should move in with me,” Skip Muck blurted out.
Don Malarkey swallowed, a passing shiver raising goosebumps on his flesh despite standing in the relative heat of a crowded bar, and pulled back from their almost-embrace to look the other young man in the eye.
“You’re paying too much for that apartment in Queens anyway,” Muck went on to explain. “You should move in with me and Penk. It’d be cheaper. Save us all a little money, you know?”
Malarkey shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you guys.”
“Oh no, no, don’t worry about that at all, Mal. Penk thinks you’re awesome, you know that, and he’d totally be cool with you moving in.”
“Skip, you’ve got a two bedroom; I’m not sleeping in your living room.”
“So crash in my room,” Muck answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve always wanted to get a bunk bed.”
Malarkey sighed and disentangled himself from Muck like a Siamese twin breaking away. “Listen, Skip, I appreciate the offer but…”
“But what? Come on, Mal, it would be so cool if you moved in. You spend half your time visiting anyway.”
“Visiting is one thing, moving in is another.”
“You’ve already got a towel, toothbrush, and a stack of clothes there.”
Malarkey shook his head. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“It just is.”
“But…”
“You and I both know it wouldn’t work out.”
Malarkey’s words seemed to echo between them regardless of The Coral Room’s overwhelming din. There were layers of meaning folded into that simple statement and they weren’t lost on Skip Muck, even if he had been drinking. He blinked and took a step back, searching Malarkey’s face.
Time and again they’d hit this wall, fallen near to pieces, and then come crawling back to each other. Whether it was about living arrangements or significant others didn’t matter, the cycle of challenge and forgiveness kept spinning. Muck and Malarkey bickered like siblings, or lovers. But what they had was something more intense than friendship, less platonic than brotherhood, and more delicate than romance. Words couldn’t describe it. Actions only echoed it. And whatever it was, it was making both their hearts ache.
Finally, Malarkey just sighed and smiled fondly at Muck. “Look at you,” he said. “You’re completely shit-faced right now.”
Muck’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out again as he returned his friend’s smile and replied, “Yeah, I am.”
Malarkey slung a companionable arm across Muck’s shoulders. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you home.”
And just like that, the air was temporarily cleared. Whatever was going on - or not going on - between them could wait another day. For the moment they were just friends, the very best of friends, and that was enough.
Everything else could wait for now.
~
“…also, you should definitely apply to Rutgers,” the young man said after draining the last of his beer in one gulp. “That’s what I’m doing.”
Eugene Roe frowned thoughtfully. “Why’s that?”
“Because they’ve been doing a whole ton of financial aide stuff for undergrads recently,” the guy replied, obviously pleased with what he was saying. “Most colleges are doing that these days, even if they are Ivy League, you know? They’ve got quotas to fill on how many full and partial scholarships they hand out, how many work study programs they sign folks up for: that sort of thing. You know, what with the education reform and all that jazz. Anyway, you never know what kind of grants you’re eligible for until you start filling out forms. It’s kind of annoying but hey, whatever helps, right?”
Roe considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement, absently peeling the label off his own empty bottle. “Good point.”
“Also, a friend of a friend of mine just got accepted there for the medical program and he says to seriously look into it.”
“Right, yeah, that’s…that’s good to know. Thanks.”
“Dude, knowledge is totally power.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna need all the help I can get on this.”
The guy chortled. “Hell yeah, you and me both.”
“What’d you say your name was?”
“Ralph,” the guy replied amicably. “Ralph Spina.”
“I’m Eugene Roe.”
They shook hands.
“Hey, thanks again for the information, Ralph. I really appreciate it.”
Ralph grinned and waved the matter off. “Yeah, don’t mention it. We broke-ass wannabe med students got to stick together, you know?”
Roe smiled back. “You said it.” He gave a nod. “Well, it’s been real nice talking to you, Ralph. Good luck with things.”
“Right back at you, man,” Ralph responded. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll run into each other at Rutgers one day, huh?”
Roe laughed under his breath. “Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that, but then, the world is a smaller place than we think sometimes.”
The hijinks thus far:
Part One just got divorced.
Part Two has an annoying younger sister.
Part Three denies having ever done the Time Warp.
Part Four doesn't need enemies with friends like these.
Part Five believes in true love at first sight.
Part Six is having revelations of various kinds.
Part Seven has made a new friend.
Part Eight is reassessing the situation.
Part Nine has come together and fallen apart.
Part Ten is crossing lines and taking steps.
(cross-posted to no_vices and ihave_no_idea)
Once again, it's been a blast writing this cracked out saga and I hope you've enjoyed the ride.
Title: Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway - Part Eleven
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: mentions of past Nixon/Cathy, a smattering of Harry/Kittie, attempted Buck/anyone with a pulse, mention of slight past Roe/Winters, eventual Nixon/Winters, implied Muck/Malarkey
Word Count: 1,414 for Part Eleven
Rating: R
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is the original saga of the Big Damn Modern Day AU of Doom, and it is unabashedly inspired by the Finger Eleven song, “Paralyzer.” Written in honor of ladyames and with special thanks to foofighter0234, alouette_sparra, and melliyna.
~x~x~
“Jesus Christ, Harry, where the hell have you been?” Buck Compton asked, smacking his friend on the arm. “I was starting to think you might of accidentally flushed yourself down the toilet or something.”
Harry Welsh just smiled, tongue between his teeth. “Your confidence in me is staggering, Buck.”
Buck shook his head, smirking.
“Anyway, as much of a blast as this has been, I think I’m about to turn into a pumpkin,” Harry announced.
“You’re leaving already?”
“What do you mean ‘already?’ We’ve been here for hours, in case you hadn’t noticed. Some of us have to work in the morning and we don’t all have jobs that let us hide behind a desk and some paperwork, you know?”
“Hey, my job is more than a desk and a stack of papers.”
“Yeah, right, whatever. If you think you can handle a room full of sixth graders with a hangover then you let me know because I’ll gladly trade places with you.”
Buck looked thoughtful and then quipped, “I was unaware of the fact that your average sixth grader turned up to class hungover.”
“Shut up, Buck.”
They laughed.
“So how much do I owe you for…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Buck responded, waving a dismissive hand at the way Harry reached for his wallet. “Drinks are on me tonight.”
“Holy shit, Buck, are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea what kind of tab we’ve got going on at the bar? I drank like a fucking fish and that ain’t even counting whatever the hell you and Nix have been ordering all night. Jesus Christ, Nix alone could buy every last bottle of Vat 69 in the bar.”
“Yeah, well, Nix can afford to buy the entire bar if he really wanted to but that’s not the point.”
“So what is the point?”
“Just don’t worry about it, okay? I got a bonus for the way I handled my last case so I’ll take care of this.”
“Seriously?”
Buck nodded. “Yeah. Listen, you’re not exactly raking in the dough working for the Board of Ed so I’m not going to expect you to pay. And while Nix and I haven’t always been on the best of terms, I’m not going to stick him with the Goddamn bill one the day he signed his divorce papers…even if he is a filthy rich bastard. He’s a real pain in the ass sometimes but I’m not going to be that malicious to him.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. That’s real big of you, Buck. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, whatever…”
“No, seriously, it’s good to see you and Nix talking to each other again. I know the two of you haven’t always seen eye to eye but it’s great that you’re getting along now.”
“Well, it does help to have you around.”
“Why? So you and Nix can have someone to gang up on?”
“Pretty much.”
There was another round of laughter but Harry was moving towards the door and Buck followed.
“Where’s Nix?” Harry asked.
“He’s still outside having a smoke.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
Buck frowned quizzically. “I’m surprised at you, Harry. Aren’t you going to say goodbye to that pretty barmaid of yours?”
Harry smiled wolfishly. “Oh believe me, I already have…and just so you know? Kittie definitely likes me.”
Buck laughed. “You sly dog, good for you. Did you get her number?”
“Name, phone number, e-mail address, and a date for next week.”
Buck whooped, clapping the other young man on the back. “Harry Welsh, smooth operator. I take everything back: you are a Lothario extraordinaire.”
Harry didn’t stop grinning. “I told you she liked me.”
~
“You should move in with me,” Skip Muck blurted out.
Don Malarkey swallowed, a passing shiver raising goosebumps on his flesh despite standing in the relative heat of a crowded bar, and pulled back from their almost-embrace to look the other young man in the eye.
“You’re paying too much for that apartment in Queens anyway,” Muck went on to explain. “You should move in with me and Penk. It’d be cheaper. Save us all a little money, you know?”
Malarkey shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you guys.”
“Oh no, no, don’t worry about that at all, Mal. Penk thinks you’re awesome, you know that, and he’d totally be cool with you moving in.”
“Skip, you’ve got a two bedroom; I’m not sleeping in your living room.”
“So crash in my room,” Muck answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve always wanted to get a bunk bed.”
Malarkey sighed and disentangled himself from Muck like a Siamese twin breaking away. “Listen, Skip, I appreciate the offer but…”
“But what? Come on, Mal, it would be so cool if you moved in. You spend half your time visiting anyway.”
“Visiting is one thing, moving in is another.”
“You’ve already got a towel, toothbrush, and a stack of clothes there.”
Malarkey shook his head. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“It just is.”
“But…”
“You and I both know it wouldn’t work out.”
Malarkey’s words seemed to echo between them regardless of The Coral Room’s overwhelming din. There were layers of meaning folded into that simple statement and they weren’t lost on Skip Muck, even if he had been drinking. He blinked and took a step back, searching Malarkey’s face.
Time and again they’d hit this wall, fallen near to pieces, and then come crawling back to each other. Whether it was about living arrangements or significant others didn’t matter, the cycle of challenge and forgiveness kept spinning. Muck and Malarkey bickered like siblings, or lovers. But what they had was something more intense than friendship, less platonic than brotherhood, and more delicate than romance. Words couldn’t describe it. Actions only echoed it. And whatever it was, it was making both their hearts ache.
Finally, Malarkey just sighed and smiled fondly at Muck. “Look at you,” he said. “You’re completely shit-faced right now.”
Muck’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out again as he returned his friend’s smile and replied, “Yeah, I am.”
Malarkey slung a companionable arm across Muck’s shoulders. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you home.”
And just like that, the air was temporarily cleared. Whatever was going on - or not going on - between them could wait another day. For the moment they were just friends, the very best of friends, and that was enough.
Everything else could wait for now.
~
“…also, you should definitely apply to Rutgers,” the young man said after draining the last of his beer in one gulp. “That’s what I’m doing.”
Eugene Roe frowned thoughtfully. “Why’s that?”
“Because they’ve been doing a whole ton of financial aide stuff for undergrads recently,” the guy replied, obviously pleased with what he was saying. “Most colleges are doing that these days, even if they are Ivy League, you know? They’ve got quotas to fill on how many full and partial scholarships they hand out, how many work study programs they sign folks up for: that sort of thing. You know, what with the education reform and all that jazz. Anyway, you never know what kind of grants you’re eligible for until you start filling out forms. It’s kind of annoying but hey, whatever helps, right?”
Roe considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement, absently peeling the label off his own empty bottle. “Good point.”
“Also, a friend of a friend of mine just got accepted there for the medical program and he says to seriously look into it.”
“Right, yeah, that’s…that’s good to know. Thanks.”
“Dude, knowledge is totally power.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna need all the help I can get on this.”
The guy chortled. “Hell yeah, you and me both.”
“What’d you say your name was?”
“Ralph,” the guy replied amicably. “Ralph Spina.”
“I’m Eugene Roe.”
They shook hands.
“Hey, thanks again for the information, Ralph. I really appreciate it.”
Ralph grinned and waved the matter off. “Yeah, don’t mention it. We broke-ass wannabe med students got to stick together, you know?”
Roe smiled back. “You said it.” He gave a nod. “Well, it’s been real nice talking to you, Ralph. Good luck with things.”
“Right back at you, man,” Ralph responded. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll run into each other at Rutgers one day, huh?”
Roe laughed under his breath. “Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that, but then, the world is a smaller place than we think sometimes.”
The hijinks thus far:
Part One just got divorced.
Part Two has an annoying younger sister.
Part Three denies having ever done the Time Warp.
Part Four doesn't need enemies with friends like these.
Part Five believes in true love at first sight.
Part Six is having revelations of various kinds.
Part Seven has made a new friend.
Part Eight is reassessing the situation.
Part Nine has come together and fallen apart.
Part Ten is crossing lines and taking steps.
(cross-posted to no_vices and ihave_no_idea)