[FIC] Six Strokes of Luck (TDS, Jon/Stephen)
Title: Six Strokes of Luck
Pairing: Jon Stewart/ Stephen Colbert
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1,400
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Warnings: RPS. Or should I put "my first attempt at RPS" as a warning?
SIX STROKES OF LUCK
Jon does not believe he is a lucky person. However, he acknowledges several occurrences in his life that luck definitely had something to do with, even though it might have taken him a while to realize that it was luck.
One
Tony and his buddies search the shed thoroughly but forget to check out the bushes behind it. Jon stays absolutely still until they disappear out of his sight, muttering something about “sneaky Jews” in evident disappointment. He scrambles out from under the branches as their voices fade out in the distance, prepared to dive right back in case of emergency, but the danger seems to have passed. Usually his hiding spots are discovered almost immediately.
The skin on his arms and legs is scratched but it does not bother him. His date with Rachel is tonight. For scratches, there is always the basic kitten-in-the-tree rescue explanation or something more exotic, depending on how imaginative he feels. Bloodied nose, which is the common outcome of his encounters with Tony, would have been a little harder to explain if he were to maintain the heroic image.
His watch is probably gone for good since the search in the bushes produced no results, but at least he has a new good hiding place.
Two
His new show comes with a baggage. He expects to meet a group of individuals unnerved by his presence, to be the subject of hostile attitudes and icy glares. Instead there is a fully functional, working team of talented people. Which is a disaster because what could they possibly need him for? It takes Jon several months to notice he is in fact the member of the team and enjoys it.
Three
It is astonishing that Stephen did not punch him yesterday. It is even more astonishing that Stephen smiles at him today. Jon wishes he would stop doing it, though. Seeing that smile makes Jon want to kiss him again, and neither his luck nor Stephen's tolerance can possibly stretch so far.
Four
His Mazda screeches to a halt, barely a couple of inches between it and the tree that might have become Jon's last, most intimate and most unpleasant encounter with wilderness. It takes Jon a minute to unclench his fingers from their desperate grip of the steering wheel, and another ten to find the strength to get out of the car. He seems to be in one piece, which is incredible. The car might be all right too but he has no particular desire to test his luck again.
Names run in his memory as he fumbles with his cell phone. The sensible thing to do would be to arrange for an evacuator to pick up his car. Or to ask Tracey to arrange everything and collect him. But either option would require a lot of talking, making decisions or repeating assurances that he is fine.
"Hey, Stephen, are you still in the studio? I was wondering if you could…"
Five
Their separation is civil, without shouting or arguments. Every issue is worked out in a patient discussion. Jon has seen divorces of his friends, ugly and painful affairs. He cannot help but praise his luck for marrying this woman who apparently can handle absolutely everything with reason and dignity. It is both ironic and shameful that he learned to truly appreciate her years too late.
Six
"Ouch! …Damn it, what the hell is this?"
"It's a suitcase. Jon, would you please stop kicking it?"
"It's getting exactly what it deserves. I almost fell because of it! Whose suitcase is it anyway?"
"Mine, of course."
"All riiight. And why was it in the middle of the room in my apartment?"
"First of all, it was not in the middle of the room. I put it aside."
"Fine, it was on my way to the couch. Same thing. Not what I was asking anyway."
"If I may continue, I usually bring a change of clothes and other personal things when I intend to spend a few nights in a new place. Consider it a quirk of mine."
"Let me get this straight, you plan to spend a few nights here?"
"I am afraid you left me no choice about this."
"I don't recall issuing an invitation in the first place. You volunteered to pick me up from the hospital, that's it."
"My point exactly. I need to be absolutely certain you won't suffocate to death in your sleep or fall and break your neck. The latter seems to be a very likely possibility considering the scene I just witnessed."
"I tripped over your suitcase! If I broke my neck, it would've been your fault entirely. Anyway, the hospital gave me a clean bill of health. There is no need for you to… Stephen? Stephen, are you even listening to me?"
"Yes, yes, I'm listening."
"Then why are you unpacking?"
"Because it's late, you are tired and we should go to sleep."
"I fully intend to go to sleep. In my apartment. Alone. That was the whole point of getting out of the hospital early."
"Ah, you do admit they released you too soon."
"Look, I'm an adult. If I say I feel okay, then I really am… I walked into this one, didn't I?"
"You most certainly did. I will even be noble and not mention how you shuffled around with cough and chest pain for days and how your own coworkers were forced to call an ambulance when you collapsed right after the taping."
"That doesn't count as mentioning it?"
"With pneumonia, Jon. Pneumonia! You are supposed to be a hypochondriac! Hypochondriacs should cast you out of their ranks with disgrace."
"If I say you can spend the night, will you shut up about this?"
"No, because I am spending the next several nights here - I repeat, nights, as in more than one - regardless of whatever you say."
"I should've never helped you with your show. At least you listened to me while I was your boss."
"And I'll listen again when you actually start telling me something I should know."
"Such as what?"
"Oh, I don't know. Such as 'Stephen, I feel like shit and have a fever. I should probably go see a doctor.' Or, 'I am getting a divorce.' You know, those small, life-altering, vital bits of information."
"Are you ever going to forgive me for not telling you?"
"You lived by yourself for three months. And I only found out by accident!"
"Look, I didn't want you to feel guilty or like I was pressuring you into doing something. And I didn't tell anyone else either. This is my personal life."
"That's where you are mistaken."
"Stephen…"
"It's all right. I understand what you were trying to do. It just didn't work. Not in our case."
"What happened? I thought you seemed upset before. I should've asked. And what did Evie say about you staying over?"
“Not much. She would've minded before but now it makes no difference. See, Evie was upset with how much time I was spending at the hospital.”
“Exactly how much time are we talking about here?”
“A lot, and let's leave it at that. She asked me if I preferred your company to hers.”
“And?”
“I said yes.”
“Stephen, they put me on artificial respiration, I couldn't speak to you even if I were conscious!”
“Perhaps that's why I enjoyed your company so much.”
"Did she forgive you?"
"I didn't apologize. I told her the truth."
"Oh god."
"I'm sorry. There's only so much lying I can do until it makes me feel sick of myself."
"What happened?"
"That's how we got to the suitcase part."
"So, when you said 'a few nights', you actually…?"
"I didn't want to get too specific. For now, you are under my supervision, no matter whether you want it or not. Then we'll see how it goes."
"Fair enough. Wait, the couch is…"
"We are sharing the bed."
"Are we?"
"I'm not running to you from the other room every time you start suffocating during the night."
"Yeah, if I was lucky to end up with pneumonia, there should be enough luck left for a few suffocation fits."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing, I'll just shut up and get ready for bed."
"That's the first sensible idea you had tonight, Jon."
The End.
Pairing: Jon Stewart/ Stephen Colbert
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1,400
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Warnings: RPS. Or should I put "my first attempt at RPS" as a warning?
SIX STROKES OF LUCK
Jon does not believe he is a lucky person. However, he acknowledges several occurrences in his life that luck definitely had something to do with, even though it might have taken him a while to realize that it was luck.
One
Tony and his buddies search the shed thoroughly but forget to check out the bushes behind it. Jon stays absolutely still until they disappear out of his sight, muttering something about “sneaky Jews” in evident disappointment. He scrambles out from under the branches as their voices fade out in the distance, prepared to dive right back in case of emergency, but the danger seems to have passed. Usually his hiding spots are discovered almost immediately.
The skin on his arms and legs is scratched but it does not bother him. His date with Rachel is tonight. For scratches, there is always the basic kitten-in-the-tree rescue explanation or something more exotic, depending on how imaginative he feels. Bloodied nose, which is the common outcome of his encounters with Tony, would have been a little harder to explain if he were to maintain the heroic image.
His watch is probably gone for good since the search in the bushes produced no results, but at least he has a new good hiding place.
Two
His new show comes with a baggage. He expects to meet a group of individuals unnerved by his presence, to be the subject of hostile attitudes and icy glares. Instead there is a fully functional, working team of talented people. Which is a disaster because what could they possibly need him for? It takes Jon several months to notice he is in fact the member of the team and enjoys it.
Three
It is astonishing that Stephen did not punch him yesterday. It is even more astonishing that Stephen smiles at him today. Jon wishes he would stop doing it, though. Seeing that smile makes Jon want to kiss him again, and neither his luck nor Stephen's tolerance can possibly stretch so far.
Four
His Mazda screeches to a halt, barely a couple of inches between it and the tree that might have become Jon's last, most intimate and most unpleasant encounter with wilderness. It takes Jon a minute to unclench his fingers from their desperate grip of the steering wheel, and another ten to find the strength to get out of the car. He seems to be in one piece, which is incredible. The car might be all right too but he has no particular desire to test his luck again.
Names run in his memory as he fumbles with his cell phone. The sensible thing to do would be to arrange for an evacuator to pick up his car. Or to ask Tracey to arrange everything and collect him. But either option would require a lot of talking, making decisions or repeating assurances that he is fine.
"Hey, Stephen, are you still in the studio? I was wondering if you could…"
Five
Their separation is civil, without shouting or arguments. Every issue is worked out in a patient discussion. Jon has seen divorces of his friends, ugly and painful affairs. He cannot help but praise his luck for marrying this woman who apparently can handle absolutely everything with reason and dignity. It is both ironic and shameful that he learned to truly appreciate her years too late.
Six
"Ouch! …Damn it, what the hell is this?"
"It's a suitcase. Jon, would you please stop kicking it?"
"It's getting exactly what it deserves. I almost fell because of it! Whose suitcase is it anyway?"
"Mine, of course."
"All riiight. And why was it in the middle of the room in my apartment?"
"First of all, it was not in the middle of the room. I put it aside."
"Fine, it was on my way to the couch. Same thing. Not what I was asking anyway."
"If I may continue, I usually bring a change of clothes and other personal things when I intend to spend a few nights in a new place. Consider it a quirk of mine."
"Let me get this straight, you plan to spend a few nights here?"
"I am afraid you left me no choice about this."
"I don't recall issuing an invitation in the first place. You volunteered to pick me up from the hospital, that's it."
"My point exactly. I need to be absolutely certain you won't suffocate to death in your sleep or fall and break your neck. The latter seems to be a very likely possibility considering the scene I just witnessed."
"I tripped over your suitcase! If I broke my neck, it would've been your fault entirely. Anyway, the hospital gave me a clean bill of health. There is no need for you to… Stephen? Stephen, are you even listening to me?"
"Yes, yes, I'm listening."
"Then why are you unpacking?"
"Because it's late, you are tired and we should go to sleep."
"I fully intend to go to sleep. In my apartment. Alone. That was the whole point of getting out of the hospital early."
"Ah, you do admit they released you too soon."
"Look, I'm an adult. If I say I feel okay, then I really am… I walked into this one, didn't I?"
"You most certainly did. I will even be noble and not mention how you shuffled around with cough and chest pain for days and how your own coworkers were forced to call an ambulance when you collapsed right after the taping."
"That doesn't count as mentioning it?"
"With pneumonia, Jon. Pneumonia! You are supposed to be a hypochondriac! Hypochondriacs should cast you out of their ranks with disgrace."
"If I say you can spend the night, will you shut up about this?"
"No, because I am spending the next several nights here - I repeat, nights, as in more than one - regardless of whatever you say."
"I should've never helped you with your show. At least you listened to me while I was your boss."
"And I'll listen again when you actually start telling me something I should know."
"Such as what?"
"Oh, I don't know. Such as 'Stephen, I feel like shit and have a fever. I should probably go see a doctor.' Or, 'I am getting a divorce.' You know, those small, life-altering, vital bits of information."
"Are you ever going to forgive me for not telling you?"
"You lived by yourself for three months. And I only found out by accident!"
"Look, I didn't want you to feel guilty or like I was pressuring you into doing something. And I didn't tell anyone else either. This is my personal life."
"That's where you are mistaken."
"Stephen…"
"It's all right. I understand what you were trying to do. It just didn't work. Not in our case."
"What happened? I thought you seemed upset before. I should've asked. And what did Evie say about you staying over?"
“Not much. She would've minded before but now it makes no difference. See, Evie was upset with how much time I was spending at the hospital.”
“Exactly how much time are we talking about here?”
“A lot, and let's leave it at that. She asked me if I preferred your company to hers.”
“And?”
“I said yes.”
“Stephen, they put me on artificial respiration, I couldn't speak to you even if I were conscious!”
“Perhaps that's why I enjoyed your company so much.”
"Did she forgive you?"
"I didn't apologize. I told her the truth."
"Oh god."
"I'm sorry. There's only so much lying I can do until it makes me feel sick of myself."
"What happened?"
"That's how we got to the suitcase part."
"So, when you said 'a few nights', you actually…?"
"I didn't want to get too specific. For now, you are under my supervision, no matter whether you want it or not. Then we'll see how it goes."
"Fair enough. Wait, the couch is…"
"We are sharing the bed."
"Are we?"
"I'm not running to you from the other room every time you start suffocating during the night."
"Yeah, if I was lucky to end up with pneumonia, there should be enough luck left for a few suffocation fits."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing, I'll just shut up and get ready for bed."
"That's the first sensible idea you had tonight, Jon."
The End.