Not now, please (Deirdre, Spectre)
When Spectre thought of the person he could consider his oldest friend, his mind always inevitably brought up Deirdre. She had been a part of his musical act the longest as well, but Deirdre was at least partially responsible for the life he had now. It had been his previous musical partner, Sacrifice, who had been responsible for seeing to it that Deirdre's band replaced their opening act once, a very long time ago. Her reasons may have been nefarious, but Spectre couldn't help but be grateful. They had walked into 213 Victoria Lane that day and Spectre had immediately been wary of Deirdre, whom his angelic senses, in as much as he understood them at the time, immediately distrusted.
And Deirdre, in her own pushy and extremely caring way, had shoved herself into his life anyway. She had forcibly introduced Spectre to Peter Kemp and to his eventual husband, Thomas. It had been Deirdre who had joined his touring band after Sacrifice left, to keep him stable, and earned herself a spot in his act permanently. And even that was all details. That first day, when he had been sure she was going to snap his neck at any minute, he would have been shocked to hear just how many times Deirdre Gallagher would eventually save his life.
Thus, it was little wonder that Deirdre, who called Spectre her non-sexual soul mate, and Spectre felt the same way about her, felt almost obligated to help him run his life. And usually Spectre was more than willing to let her, seeing as Deirdre had one of the purest hearts he knew. He could usually look upon her slightly nagging personality with amused exasperation. Usually.
Deirdre wasn't one of the band members who was accompanying him to Athens, since the conference was for guitar players and Deirdre had zero interest in the guitar. She still very much wanted to see him before he left, and so she had let herself into his house and gone up to the studio where Spectre was packing up a few odds and ends to bring with him.
"Hey! Oooh, Packing!"
Spectre, who was amused by Deirdre's love of organisation, turned to offer his dear friend a smile. "You can help if you are inclined. Unless you came over to ask for something?"
"Nope!" Deirdre said with a grin. "Just to see you!" Deirdre gleefully pitched in rolling up cords and wrapping them in Velcro them so they would stay neat. "Thomas and the kids were on their way to the park when I crossed the street. He told me to come in."
"Ah." Spectre's gut twisted uncomfortably when Deirdre mentioned his husband's name. Spectre didn't know why, but he didn't think he was exactly Thomas' favourite person any more. And if it had been anyone else with him, they probably wouldn't have noticed Spectre's avoidance, but this was Deirdre.
"Hey," she said, straightening up to put a full leather case onto the desk. "What's up?"
"Nothing, Deirdre. I don't know if Thomas is thrilled I'm going away for a week, that's all."
Deirdre narrowed her eyes at him in a way that made Spectre feel she was looking right through him. He ducked his head and busied himself with checking to make sure he had all the pedals he wanted to take with him.
"Well did you just tell him you'll be back soon?" Deirdre asked, and Spectre silently wished she would drop it.
"I am sure he's aware."
There was silence, and Spectre didn't dare look at Deirdre. He could guess the look she had on her face anyway. "So you didn't talk to him about it?"
That was the clincher, really. Spectre and Thomas didn't talk much any more and every time Spectre tried, Thomas didn't seem interested. "Not really. I haven't had time."
"That's bullshit," Deirdre hissed, and Spectre finally looked up at her. The look on Deirdre's face was not a pleasant one.
"Excuse me?"
"I know you're busy with two albums and organising tours and writing and performing and going to conferences. I know you're busy because I'm busy and I'm not even writing or arranging things. But Spectre, you can't be too busy to talk things over with Thomas."
The last thing Spectre wanted to do was fight with Deirdre, so he shrugged instead. "There's just so much to arrange-"
"So make time!" Deirdre said loudly. "Unless you want to end up like me! Divorce isn't awesome, Spectre! And Thomas is a good person but do you think he's going to wait around forever while you try to find five minutes to talk to him?!"
Spectre wasn't generally a cruel person, but when someone was being confrontational he either folded quickly or he responded in incredibly bitchy ways. It was a defence mechanism he slipped into after years with his father. "You want me to take relationship advice from you?"
Deirdre's eyes widened and she crossed her arms and immediately Spectre knew he had made a mistake. He didn't want to talk about this, but that didn't give him the right to lash out. Before he could even get a hurried apology out, however, Deirdre was hurling words at him.
"Yes! Yes you should take relationship advice from me, just like I should have taken relationship advice from Jude. I didn't, because in my mind, her own relationship had failed so she had no idea what a functioning one would look like. But you know what? She was right. Giles and I were a train accident waiting to happen. Now I've been there and I know what it looks like, so fuck you very much, and yes you should listen to me, you arse. Have a good time in Greece." Then Deirdre pulled the cord she had wound up out of the bag, undid it so it was a coiled mess before dropping it on the floor and stalking away.
Spectre stared after her and then he let out a long breath. "Now that's two people not speaking to me. Good show, Spectre," he whispered to himself. Then he went back to packing.
And Deirdre, in her own pushy and extremely caring way, had shoved herself into his life anyway. She had forcibly introduced Spectre to Peter Kemp and to his eventual husband, Thomas. It had been Deirdre who had joined his touring band after Sacrifice left, to keep him stable, and earned herself a spot in his act permanently. And even that was all details. That first day, when he had been sure she was going to snap his neck at any minute, he would have been shocked to hear just how many times Deirdre Gallagher would eventually save his life.
Thus, it was little wonder that Deirdre, who called Spectre her non-sexual soul mate, and Spectre felt the same way about her, felt almost obligated to help him run his life. And usually Spectre was more than willing to let her, seeing as Deirdre had one of the purest hearts he knew. He could usually look upon her slightly nagging personality with amused exasperation. Usually.
Deirdre wasn't one of the band members who was accompanying him to Athens, since the conference was for guitar players and Deirdre had zero interest in the guitar. She still very much wanted to see him before he left, and so she had let herself into his house and gone up to the studio where Spectre was packing up a few odds and ends to bring with him.
"Hey! Oooh, Packing!"
Spectre, who was amused by Deirdre's love of organisation, turned to offer his dear friend a smile. "You can help if you are inclined. Unless you came over to ask for something?"
"Nope!" Deirdre said with a grin. "Just to see you!" Deirdre gleefully pitched in rolling up cords and wrapping them in Velcro them so they would stay neat. "Thomas and the kids were on their way to the park when I crossed the street. He told me to come in."
"Ah." Spectre's gut twisted uncomfortably when Deirdre mentioned his husband's name. Spectre didn't know why, but he didn't think he was exactly Thomas' favourite person any more. And if it had been anyone else with him, they probably wouldn't have noticed Spectre's avoidance, but this was Deirdre.
"Hey," she said, straightening up to put a full leather case onto the desk. "What's up?"
"Nothing, Deirdre. I don't know if Thomas is thrilled I'm going away for a week, that's all."
Deirdre narrowed her eyes at him in a way that made Spectre feel she was looking right through him. He ducked his head and busied himself with checking to make sure he had all the pedals he wanted to take with him.
"Well did you just tell him you'll be back soon?" Deirdre asked, and Spectre silently wished she would drop it.
"I am sure he's aware."
There was silence, and Spectre didn't dare look at Deirdre. He could guess the look she had on her face anyway. "So you didn't talk to him about it?"
That was the clincher, really. Spectre and Thomas didn't talk much any more and every time Spectre tried, Thomas didn't seem interested. "Not really. I haven't had time."
"That's bullshit," Deirdre hissed, and Spectre finally looked up at her. The look on Deirdre's face was not a pleasant one.
"Excuse me?"
"I know you're busy with two albums and organising tours and writing and performing and going to conferences. I know you're busy because I'm busy and I'm not even writing or arranging things. But Spectre, you can't be too busy to talk things over with Thomas."
The last thing Spectre wanted to do was fight with Deirdre, so he shrugged instead. "There's just so much to arrange-"
"So make time!" Deirdre said loudly. "Unless you want to end up like me! Divorce isn't awesome, Spectre! And Thomas is a good person but do you think he's going to wait around forever while you try to find five minutes to talk to him?!"
Spectre wasn't generally a cruel person, but when someone was being confrontational he either folded quickly or he responded in incredibly bitchy ways. It was a defence mechanism he slipped into after years with his father. "You want me to take relationship advice from you?"
Deirdre's eyes widened and she crossed her arms and immediately Spectre knew he had made a mistake. He didn't want to talk about this, but that didn't give him the right to lash out. Before he could even get a hurried apology out, however, Deirdre was hurling words at him.
"Yes! Yes you should take relationship advice from me, just like I should have taken relationship advice from Jude. I didn't, because in my mind, her own relationship had failed so she had no idea what a functioning one would look like. But you know what? She was right. Giles and I were a train accident waiting to happen. Now I've been there and I know what it looks like, so fuck you very much, and yes you should listen to me, you arse. Have a good time in Greece." Then Deirdre pulled the cord she had wound up out of the bag, undid it so it was a coiled mess before dropping it on the floor and stalking away.
Spectre stared after her and then he let out a long breath. "Now that's two people not speaking to me. Good show, Spectre," he whispered to himself. Then he went back to packing.