The wicked world above your head (Chapter 1)
Title: The wicked world above your head
Pairings: Novak Djokovic/Ernests Gulbis, Andy Murray/Tim Henman
Rating: G
Word count: 2,737
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Andy gets an anonymous note from a patriotic fan.
Author’s note: This AU story is dedicated to my dear friend and reader agua21. I wish you a very happy birthday, sweetie :)
Chapter 1
“Mm hmm…”
Andy was humming lightly, probably a tune that he had picked up from a TV show last night. He had slept well, took a shower with a little bit of narcissism and was currently pouring English tea in his favorite teacup. No matter how late he woke up, he had to start the morning with a fine cup of tea. He was British.
‘Okay, now let’s make some toast.’
The twenty two year old put two slices of bread in the toaster and opened the refrigerator to retrieve some jam.
He was in London, taking a light break after the French Open and getting ready for Wimbledon. He had thought about training near home in Scotland but in the end, he had decided to rent a flat in the capital with his friend Novak.
‘I can’t believe he went practicing without drinking some tea. He must be dying by now.’
Noticing that one of the tennis bags were missing near the door, Andy shook his head and mourned for his friend’s horrible start of the day.
‘He could’ve woken me up. No man starts his day without a cup of tea.’
Tling.
Enjoying the cheerful sound coming from the toaster, Andy sat at the kitchen table, ready to bask in the sheer delight of having a lovely breakfast. He had opened his mouth wide and had just bitten a piece of his toast when he heard the door bell ring.
‘Ah, he forgot to take his keys. That’s what happens when you don’t have tea first thing in the morning.’
Not even wondering if there could be another explanation, the Scot left the kitchen to answer the door.
“Mr. Andy Murray? This is for you, sir. Please sign here.”
Surprised not to see his spiky headed friend, Andy scribbled down his name inside the signature box and took the small envelope.
“Thank you, sir. Have a nice day!”
The postman moved on to another flat, leaving Andy to stare at his own name on the envelope. There was no returning address or the name of the sender on top; only the two words ‘Andy Murray’ were neatly written.
‘Huh, it must be a fan letter or something.’
Proud to have such endearing fans, he opened the envelope.
‘What the hell is this? Who makes these kinds of jokes?’
The short note had an address and a phone number - which both seemed to be in the suburbs of London - and a strange phrase underneath.
Rafael Nadal’s secret to fitness
‘Well, unless this is from Uncle Toni, I don’t know what’s going on here.’
Then, Andy noticed that there were a few more words at the bottom of the note where he was holding the paper.
‘From a patriotic fan? Does this person want me to win Wimbledon? So this must be some secret info about an unknown great coach or… um… a really low fat special chicken salad or… erm…’
As he had only taken a few sips of tea, he couldn’t come up with more options. So Andy took the note to the kitchen and stared at it while enjoying his breakfast.
“Hey, Andy, you’re still here?”
Andy heard his friend’s voice and left the table briefly to turn on the kettle. The miserable soul was finally going to get a cup of tea.
“Yeah. Something came up.”
“Other than you being lazy all day?”
Novak chuckled and sat across the Scot. “What is this?”
“That’s exactly what came up.”
The Serb sat back and held the note. It was pretty intriguing, he had to admit.
“You called the number already?”
“No. I was having breakfast.”
“What!” Novak almost jumped up from his seat. “But it says it’s the secret to Rafa’s fitness!”
“Calm down, Nole. I’m sure that’s a prank.”
“How can you tell when you didn’t call them?”
Novak couldn’t believe that his friend had just sat there with such important information and eaten breakfast. If he had been the one who had received the note, he wouldn’t have minded starving for a whole day.
“Don’t be delusional. Of course it’s a prank. Think about it. Why would anybody give me the key to Rafa’s fitness?”
Andy hung a satisfied smile on his lips as he finished pouring some wonderful tea for his friend. According to his theory, the poor Serb would come to his senses after drinking it.
“It could be a prank but it could also be something useful.”
Novak didn’t even realize that there was tea in front of him. All he could see was the shiny letters that formed ‘secret to fitness.’
“What are you waiting for? Drink it up.”
Andy snatched the piece of paper away just so he could enjoy the sight of his friend drinking his marvelous tea.
“Drink what?”
Novak looked down. “Oh, thanks, Andy. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had to. You weren’t thinking straight.”
Novak held up the cup against his lips and drank until he saw the Scot crumple up the precious note and toss it into the wastebasket.
“Andy! What are you doing?”
“Uh… throwing rubbish away?”
“Are you completely out of your mind?”
Novak hurried to the basket, picked up the paper and tried his best to iron out the wrinkles with his palm.
“Nole, I know how tempting it sounds but that’s bullshit. You got a new fitness trainer. I’m sure he knows better than whoever this lunatic is.”
“But it doesn’t hurt to check this address or number, does it?”
“I don’t know about that. I feel like… Hey!”
Novak had already picked up the phone and started dialing the number.
“Nole, I really think it’s for the best to ignore psychos.”
But it was too late. He could vaguely hear another voice on the other side of the line and an expression of surprise and hope had already found a place on his friend’s face.
“Hello, Tim’s Carpet Planet. How can I help you?”
A young male voice had answered the phone and Novak felt that he couldn’t be a bad guy.
“Hi! Uh… I was wondering if you have any new carpets this… month.” The Serb ventured, hoping that the place would sell carpets rather than repair or exhibit them.
“As a matter of fact, we have a couple of new ones. You didn’t get our monthly brochure, sir?”
“Oh. It must’ve got lost in the mail.”
“Would you like us to send you a new one or would you rather come down yourself and take a look at our brand new products? We even offer 15% discount for the new ones, sir.”
Completely forgetting that this phone call had something to do with fitness, Novak suddenly felt like buying a carpet. He liked the gentle, merry voice and couldn’t help but grin a little bit.
“I’ll drop by sometime soon. Thanks. May I get your name in case I…”
Snatch.
“Hey!” Novak looked at the cut-off phone while Andy calmly put it back on its cradle.
“Sorry but I can’t let you chat with a nutcase. That’s what friends are for, right? To stop you from getting into trouble.”
“But he sounded perfectly sane!”
Andy crossed his arms over his chest and let out a deep sigh. His friend needed another cup of tea.
“Andy, I can’t drink anymore. I’m full.”
Novak put a gentle hand on his friend’s arm and pleaded with his eyes. He had been forced to drink up three teacups in a row.
“But you still…”
“Fine! You win! I won’t call that place again!”
“Finally. Thanks, Nole. I was getting worried.”
“But I’m still curious. What do carpets have to do with fitness? Does Rafa collect carpets?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps he naps on them?” Andy shrugged. He had no idea.
“On a carpet? Why would anybody sleep on a carpet?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps these ones are more comfortable than a bed mattress? Bah, I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore.”
Andy pressed his temples with his fingertips. He had a mild headache.
“You know… maybe we should check this place out.” Novak didn’t feel like giving up.
“No way. I think we should just forget about this crappy note and focus on our tennis. And, don’t smile like that at me! Whenever you smile that scary smile of yours, I get into trouble.”
Unfortunately, Andy was right again. Ten hours later, he was standing in front of a sign that read ‘Tim’s Carpet Planet’. They had taken their rental car and its GPS took them into the middle of the woods. He couldn’t exactly remember how he got himself into this much trouble but he couldn’t just let Novak come here alone. The two of them had been great friends since the junior days and it was going to stay that way no matter what.
“I’m glad I scribbled down the address and left it on the kitchen table. If we’re missing for days, they’ll know where to look for our bodies.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Andy. We’re going to be fine.”
Novak grabbed his friend’s arm and headed for the main entrance. It was a two story building but smaller than he had imagined.
“Maybe they want us dead. Probably a maniac Rafael fan is going to come out of nowhere and stab us with those huge spears and yell ‘Vamos Rafa!’ till we die.”
“Andy, stop it.”
“But think about it. We didn’t get any hits on the Internet with this creepy store name and who the heck is Tim?”
“He must be the owner of this place.”
“Wow, what a clever guess.” Andy snorted and earned a nasty glare.
He was just about to return the glare when he heard the bell of doom. His delusional friend had opened the door. They were screwed.
“Good evening. Welcome to Tim’s Carpet Planet!” A young, tall guy with nice curls looked up from his thick book.
“Good evening.”
Novak’s face lit up as he recognized the voice from the phone call earlier. The guy at the counter looked absolutely stunning.
“I’m sorry to ask but I’ve never seen you before. Our store is based on exclusive membership. May I ask how you found this place?”
The young guy frowned a little but he was polite enough to make Andy hand him the troublesome note.
“Thank you.”
The cashier boy took a look at the note and Andy saw his eyes grow wide.
“You look surprised.”
“Uh… Well, it’s just that… it’s a very unusual note.”
“How come?”
The answer walked down from the second floor.
“Ernie, did you check if the orders we placed yester… Oh dear Lord…”
Tim stopped midway on the stairs and took a deep breath. His two favorite tennis players were in his store.
“Are you really Mr. Murray and Mr. Djokovic?”
Ernests ducked his head and hid behind his book. Now that he saw his boss’ reaction, he was sure to whom that handwriting on the note belonged to.
Andy nodded and Novak did the same before asking, “Do you happen to be Tim?”
“Yes! I’m Tim Henman. Welcome to our store!”
The happy owner smiled so widely that Andy couldn’t help but feel two things; a. that the guy was rather cute for his age and b. that he must be the lunatic nutcase.
A few minutes later, Tim was showing around the store to his tennis idols while Ernests was preparing tea and cupcakes.
“So we have our carpets displayed according to their functions. Here we have racing carpets for F1 fliers and those over there are the safest carpets you can get, designed for couples with babies. I’m proud to tell you that we also have very special ones in stock for police elves or witches who work undercover. They’re almost transparent and…”
Tim stopped explaining as he saw shock mingle with fear on the players’ faces. He kept forgetting that neither of them was a witch or an elf.
“Well, since you’re both tennis players, I assume that you would prefer one that has high unicorn power with enough space for your luggage. Am I right?”
“Sure.” Novak answered even though he wasn’t sure at all about what was happening here.
“Psst, is he talking about some kind of flying carpet?” He asked his friend who seemed to be too quiet ever since they had walked in the store.
“I don’t know, Nole. Let’s just get out of here. Maybe this is some sort of a SF cult. This looks worse than scientology.”
Andy whispered back, hoping that Novak would have some sense left and agree with him.
“Hmm… What if these carpets can actually fly? I’d be interested in buying one even if it just floats a few centimeters off the ground.”
The Serb chuckled and looked at the bird’s eye view photographs that were hanging on the wall.
“Whoa. Where did you take all these?” He asked as Tim hurried back to them with two copies of brochure.
“Oh, these are all taken from our carpets, sir. Ernie has a thing for photography and I’m very proud to have his pictures on the wall.”
“Wow. So if we buy one of these, we can take such pictures?”
Novak was more than interested in the carpets now. He felt like he had just walked into the world of magic.
“Well, you need specific types of carpets to take such pictures. For instance, this one over here is our new model EG-230. It’s not one of the fastest but it has incredible stability while stationary, and comes with a thicker protective film that forms a hemisphere over the carpet. It’s highly wind-resistant and makes it easier for the rider to take good pictures.”
“Oh…”
Even Andy was somehow getting interested. He found the owner’s voice strangely convincing.
“Tea’s ready!” Ernests’ cheerful voice reached the corner and Andy snapped back to reality.
“Thank you, Ernie. This way please.”
Tim was guiding his guests to the coffee table when a brilliant idea hit him on the forehead.
“Would you like to have tea on one of our carpets? I normally don’t suggest such a thing but since I’m a huge tennis fan…”
Not ready to confess that he was the one who had written the note, Tim just ended his words with a smile.
“Why not? We never had tea on a flying carpet before.”
Novak smiled back, excited at the new experience. He was getting more and more comfortable in the store and the cute guy with curls in sight was only helpful.
Unlike the Serb, Andy couldn’t take it anymore. This supposedly British guy was talking nonsense and his dumb friend was falling for it.
“Nole, I’m telling you, it’s time to leave.”
“You’re leaving already? But you didn’t even taste my tea…”
Ernests made a sad face as he put the tray on the carpet Tim had carefully chosen.
“No! We’re not leaving. He’s been lecturing me about the importance of having tea all day so I’m sure he’d love to taste your tea.”
Novak practically yelled in Andy’s direction, not pleased to see the cute guy’s face fall.
“Oh, that’s great. Would you like to get on the carpet then? I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to take your shoes off.”
Ernests smoothed one side of his curls as he gestured to the honored guests to take a seat on the purple carpet. And, that was when Novak spotted something out of the ordinary.
Gulp.
‘Is that his ear?’
He noticed a rather pointy ear under the luscious curls.
‘Ah, it must be some kind of advertising strategy to sell carpets.’
Novak took off his sneakers and was about to get on the carpet when he saw the guy rub the top of his left ear as if it was itching.
‘Oh god, is that a real ear?’
Now he understood why Andy had insisted to leave. They had walked into another world for real.