Ficlet: Honesty. PG.
Title: Honesty.
Series: TDS/TCR.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: This is utter fiction based on the public personas that these people project. It is not meant to have anything to do with the people in question, whose lives are none of my business.
Summary: In a dare-me-to-write-something-I-can't-write meme, kahvi told me to write Jon and Persona!Colbert speaking together without innuendo or UST. This is my attempt.
The night was no longer young. The night was old, grey, and complaining about the government a lot; in fact, it was well on its way to morning. But Jon was feeling rather good. He was out of his monkey suit. The show was over, the fat lady had sung - and best of all, it was a Thursday night. A weekend was here! Well, it wasn't exactly a break from work, but it was a break from The Daily Show. He might even, Jon thought wryly, go home before Tracey was asleep one day this weekend.
However, tonight he would not - partly because there was a Stephen in the doorway to his office. A very irritated-looking Stephen, still in his suit. His jacket was unbuttoned, and both hands were thrust into his pockets. The word 'lower' flitted through Jon's mind; he realized it was spelled the same as 'lower,' which was how he generally felt around Stephen. "Hey, man," he said, warily, "what's up?" He had really been insulted enough for one week.
"Hey," Stephen said, his voice as flat and dull as the New Jersey turnpike. "I just wanted to come by and say hi. You look great."
It was so forced it was almost humorous. The corners of Jon's lips quirked upwards. "What?"
"Yeah." Stephen heaved a deep, painful sigh. "That was a great show you just did. It was really fantastic. I came by to tell you that." Stephen Hawking's voice had more emotion.
"Stephen, are you all right?" Jon asked. There was something very strange going on, and he knew better than to trust Stephen. Whenever he did, he felt like Charlie Brown making a run for that football - and why should he be surprised that he tended to miss the ball and land flat on his back when he did?
"Yes. Fine. I just wanted to tell you that. And you don't need to lose any weight at all. You're lovely just as you are." A look of physical pain crossed Stephen's face.
Jon rested against his desk, trying to stifle a giggle. Whatever this was, it was ludicrous. "Stephen, please tell me what this is all about."
Stephen's hands tried to go into his pockets more deeply, but they were already bottomed out. He grunted out a sigh, then spoke rapidly, without taking a breath. "Evelyn said I had been too mean to you this week, and I was going to sleep on the couch if I didn't come by and say something nice."
Jon laughed outright. "It's OK, Stephen, it really is. I know you're just playing. It doesn't hurt my feelings or anything..."
Before Jon could finish that sentence, which was going to be a thanks for the effort, Stephen blew out a more joyous sigh, one that ended in a bark of laughter. "Oh, thank god! That really hurt to say, man, I have to tell you! But it's great to hear that you're not bothered by the truth. I'll pass that on." He turned, then shot back over his shoulder, "Oh - your show sucks, people are tired of watching you laugh at your own jokes, the grey makes you look old, and you're getting fat." His happy whistling faded away down the corridor.
Series: TDS/TCR.
Rating: PG.
Disclaimer: This is utter fiction based on the public personas that these people project. It is not meant to have anything to do with the people in question, whose lives are none of my business.
Summary: In a dare-me-to-write-something-I-can't-write meme, kahvi told me to write Jon and Persona!Colbert speaking together without innuendo or UST. This is my attempt.
The night was no longer young. The night was old, grey, and complaining about the government a lot; in fact, it was well on its way to morning. But Jon was feeling rather good. He was out of his monkey suit. The show was over, the fat lady had sung - and best of all, it was a Thursday night. A weekend was here! Well, it wasn't exactly a break from work, but it was a break from The Daily Show. He might even, Jon thought wryly, go home before Tracey was asleep one day this weekend.
However, tonight he would not - partly because there was a Stephen in the doorway to his office. A very irritated-looking Stephen, still in his suit. His jacket was unbuttoned, and both hands were thrust into his pockets. The word 'lower' flitted through Jon's mind; he realized it was spelled the same as 'lower,' which was how he generally felt around Stephen. "Hey, man," he said, warily, "what's up?" He had really been insulted enough for one week.
"Hey," Stephen said, his voice as flat and dull as the New Jersey turnpike. "I just wanted to come by and say hi. You look great."
It was so forced it was almost humorous. The corners of Jon's lips quirked upwards. "What?"
"Yeah." Stephen heaved a deep, painful sigh. "That was a great show you just did. It was really fantastic. I came by to tell you that." Stephen Hawking's voice had more emotion.
"Stephen, are you all right?" Jon asked. There was something very strange going on, and he knew better than to trust Stephen. Whenever he did, he felt like Charlie Brown making a run for that football - and why should he be surprised that he tended to miss the ball and land flat on his back when he did?
"Yes. Fine. I just wanted to tell you that. And you don't need to lose any weight at all. You're lovely just as you are." A look of physical pain crossed Stephen's face.
Jon rested against his desk, trying to stifle a giggle. Whatever this was, it was ludicrous. "Stephen, please tell me what this is all about."
Stephen's hands tried to go into his pockets more deeply, but they were already bottomed out. He grunted out a sigh, then spoke rapidly, without taking a breath. "Evelyn said I had been too mean to you this week, and I was going to sleep on the couch if I didn't come by and say something nice."
Jon laughed outright. "It's OK, Stephen, it really is. I know you're just playing. It doesn't hurt my feelings or anything..."
Before Jon could finish that sentence, which was going to be a thanks for the effort, Stephen blew out a more joyous sigh, one that ended in a bark of laughter. "Oh, thank god! That really hurt to say, man, I have to tell you! But it's great to hear that you're not bothered by the truth. I'll pass that on." He turned, then shot back over his shoulder, "Oh - your show sucks, people are tired of watching you laugh at your own jokes, the grey makes you look old, and you're getting fat." His happy whistling faded away down the corridor.