OMGWTFhaveIdone?!
Erm, yeah, #200: Ned Flanders (the Simpsons)/the Marquis de Carabas (Neverwhere)
Title: A Really Big Favor
Author: Talia
Pairing: Ned Flanders/the Marquis de Carabas
Rating: PG-13 (for excessive penis references)
Notes: Not my fault. Not, not, NOT my fault. It's all tarzanic's fault. Blame her. Loudly.
Spoilers: If you haven't read Neverwhere, prepare to be spoiled. Not a lot, but still. Consider thyself warned.
The Marquis de Carabas did not like admitting when he was out of his depth. This was perhaps because the Marquis had never actually been out of his depth before. He had handled an annoying man from London Above's trauma with grace, dealt with dying with perfect aplomb, and didn't even blink an eye at going toe-to-toe with an *angel*. This, though? This he could not handle.
He was hard. This would typically be a thing of celebration for him and great envy for any who opposed him. It was currently not. Currently it was a nuissance, a pain, and an object of consertnation. It was, alas, a permanent fixture.
The Marquis de Carabas could not get it down.
He had attempted cold showers, conversations with Old Bailey, even standing far too close to the Sewer Folk for far too long. the last one had given him traumatic flashbacks and a deep-seated nausea he feared he would one day assosciate with having an erection. This would, perhaps, worry him more if it had taken care of the proverbial problem at hand. It had not. Nor, actually, had taking the problem at hand *in hand*.
He was never eating at the Market AGAIN. EVER.
After much frustration, exhaustive attempts to correct the problem, and learning to walk casually while very uncomfortable (this last one to avoid further mockery from Richard), the Marquis decided it was time to call in a favor. A big one.
He waited, politely, at the door, shifting back and forth and being terribly grateful that the majority of people walking by could not actually see him. After an only mildly painful 53 seconds the door opened to reveal a cheery face.
"Hidee-ho there neighbor-oo!"
The Marquis sighed. "Hello Ned."
"How's the Un-diddery-do-side these days?"
He would not commit massive acts of violence. It was beneath him. Plus rapid movement *hurt* right now.
"Wonderous, as always. May we continue this conversation inside?"
"Why, how silly of me, making you stand out here for so long! That's right unneighbourly of me! Please, come on in!"
Ned ushered the Marquis into a clean living room with tastefully decorated walls covered in pictures of Ned's late wife and his two sunshine bright sons. There was a tasteful (or as tasteful as these things could be) crucifix above the mantle. The stereo was playing something that sounded suspiciously like "There's a Cross to Bridge the Great Divide."
The Marquis looked down at his pants. Alas, erection still there.
"I must ask, where are your children today?" Their squeaky voices would most definitely do the trick.
"Why, school, of course. They'll be back after they get their educa-diddly-umption for the day. In the mean time, can I get you something to drink? Orange juice? Water? Organic soy milk?"
"No, thank you, Ned. I will not be staying for very long. I have some brief business I wish to conduct with you."
"Well, fire away, friend. Anything I can do to help. After all, you know what they say; a friend in need-"
"Do you remember that favor I did you a while back?" the Marquis interrupted.
"Why, yes, I do! My flower beds have never been greener. Thanks again, by the way."
"Ah, yes. You're welcome. Now, do you remember that because of that you owe me a favor?"
"I seem to recall saying that, yes."
"A VERY. BIG. one? Remember?"
"Sure diddly-do."
"Well, I'm here to collect."
Ned was all smiles and wholesome toothpaste advertising.
"Ask away, friend-diddly-end. Anything I can do to help a fellow Christian."
The Marquis decided he would let the Christian comment slide.
"Ned, I am currently experiencing an uncomfortable situation. It is one that needs to be remidied immediately."
Ned sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him before asking, "Domestic troubles?"
"No," said the Marquis as he sat down.
"Problems at work?"
"No."
"Crisis of faith?"
"No."
"...drugs?" Ned asked in a traumatized whisper.
"NO!"
"Whatever it is, friend, you can tell me. It'll be fine, I promise. After all, there's nothing a nice conversation and prayer can't fix."
The Marquis sighed, "permanent erection."
The silence lasted for as long as it took for the music to change. For the next few minutes the Marquis watched Ned turn varying shades of red and repeatedly open and close his mouth like a traumatized bass as "Glory to God" played softly in the background.
After two verses and the chorus Ned finally stammered, "Well. That's, um. Well, gosh, that's quite a problem. Um. Er. I'm not sure how I can help you there, though. Maybe if I still worked at the pharmacy, but as it is..."
"I was hoping you could, perhaps, speak with me. I feel the...calming...nature of your voice might do the trick."
Ned looked frighteningly relieved. "Well, sure! Any topic in particular?"
"Anything's fine."
"Would you like to hear my plans for next week's Sunday School lesson?"
The Marquis almost said no. Then the image of Richard (RICHARD) laughing at him popped into his head. "Why yes, Ned, I would."
Ned spoke about why Jesus loved the fish in the sea, but that still didn't mean they were going to heaven. He talked about Rod and Todd's latest academic achievements. He spoke of his dead wife, the productiong of 'A Streetcar Named Desire' he had been in. Ned spoke, at length, about his geraniums.
The Marquis began to pine for the days of Croup and Vandemar torturing him with sharp little razors, jagged knives, nails and dental accoutrements. At least then he had gotten to die. It made the torture of listening to Ned talk on and on somewhat unfulfilling.
His erection did not agree.
Ned paused in his monologue to warily ask, "how you doing there friend?"
The Marquis sighed. It was a distinct sigh of pain, exhaustion, and bone-deep sadness. It was the sigh of someone who still had an erection.
He shook his head no. Ned turned the color of his prized geraniums before saying, "Maybe if you help me around the house it'll help? A little activity could take your mind off it."
Over the next several hours Ned and the Marquis washed the dishes, swept and vacuumed, and then organized the bibles according to published date. Ned then suggested playing show tunes and the next few hours were spent playing the things like "42nd Street" and "Give Our Regards to Broadway" on the piano. The Marquis even attempted to sing Liza Minelli's "Like No Business I Know" (Richard. Laughing. AT HIM). Nothing worked.
The Marquis was about to give in and read the bible, or perhaps offer himself to the nearest doctor for castration when Ned sighed and said, "Well there is the oral sex."
The Marquis retained his composure. Really. He did, he swears.
Ned dropped to his knees in front of the Marqui and said, "Haven't done this since college," before fumbling with the Marquis' belt.
The Marquis was shocked. He was horrified. He was-
The Marquis dragged Ned up and into a fierce and grateful hug before rushing out of the house to be Anywhere Else.
He was positive he would never have to worry about having an erection again.
EVER.
Title: A Really Big Favor
Author: Talia
Pairing: Ned Flanders/the Marquis de Carabas
Rating: PG-13 (for excessive penis references)
Notes: Not my fault. Not, not, NOT my fault. It's all tarzanic's fault. Blame her. Loudly.
Spoilers: If you haven't read Neverwhere, prepare to be spoiled. Not a lot, but still. Consider thyself warned.
The Marquis de Carabas did not like admitting when he was out of his depth. This was perhaps because the Marquis had never actually been out of his depth before. He had handled an annoying man from London Above's trauma with grace, dealt with dying with perfect aplomb, and didn't even blink an eye at going toe-to-toe with an *angel*. This, though? This he could not handle.
He was hard. This would typically be a thing of celebration for him and great envy for any who opposed him. It was currently not. Currently it was a nuissance, a pain, and an object of consertnation. It was, alas, a permanent fixture.
The Marquis de Carabas could not get it down.
He had attempted cold showers, conversations with Old Bailey, even standing far too close to the Sewer Folk for far too long. the last one had given him traumatic flashbacks and a deep-seated nausea he feared he would one day assosciate with having an erection. This would, perhaps, worry him more if it had taken care of the proverbial problem at hand. It had not. Nor, actually, had taking the problem at hand *in hand*.
He was never eating at the Market AGAIN. EVER.
After much frustration, exhaustive attempts to correct the problem, and learning to walk casually while very uncomfortable (this last one to avoid further mockery from Richard), the Marquis decided it was time to call in a favor. A big one.
He waited, politely, at the door, shifting back and forth and being terribly grateful that the majority of people walking by could not actually see him. After an only mildly painful 53 seconds the door opened to reveal a cheery face.
"Hidee-ho there neighbor-oo!"
The Marquis sighed. "Hello Ned."
"How's the Un-diddery-do-side these days?"
He would not commit massive acts of violence. It was beneath him. Plus rapid movement *hurt* right now.
"Wonderous, as always. May we continue this conversation inside?"
"Why, how silly of me, making you stand out here for so long! That's right unneighbourly of me! Please, come on in!"
Ned ushered the Marquis into a clean living room with tastefully decorated walls covered in pictures of Ned's late wife and his two sunshine bright sons. There was a tasteful (or as tasteful as these things could be) crucifix above the mantle. The stereo was playing something that sounded suspiciously like "There's a Cross to Bridge the Great Divide."
The Marquis looked down at his pants. Alas, erection still there.
"I must ask, where are your children today?" Their squeaky voices would most definitely do the trick.
"Why, school, of course. They'll be back after they get their educa-diddly-umption for the day. In the mean time, can I get you something to drink? Orange juice? Water? Organic soy milk?"
"No, thank you, Ned. I will not be staying for very long. I have some brief business I wish to conduct with you."
"Well, fire away, friend. Anything I can do to help. After all, you know what they say; a friend in need-"
"Do you remember that favor I did you a while back?" the Marquis interrupted.
"Why, yes, I do! My flower beds have never been greener. Thanks again, by the way."
"Ah, yes. You're welcome. Now, do you remember that because of that you owe me a favor?"
"I seem to recall saying that, yes."
"A VERY. BIG. one? Remember?"
"Sure diddly-do."
"Well, I'm here to collect."
Ned was all smiles and wholesome toothpaste advertising.
"Ask away, friend-diddly-end. Anything I can do to help a fellow Christian."
The Marquis decided he would let the Christian comment slide.
"Ned, I am currently experiencing an uncomfortable situation. It is one that needs to be remidied immediately."
Ned sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him before asking, "Domestic troubles?"
"No," said the Marquis as he sat down.
"Problems at work?"
"No."
"Crisis of faith?"
"No."
"...drugs?" Ned asked in a traumatized whisper.
"NO!"
"Whatever it is, friend, you can tell me. It'll be fine, I promise. After all, there's nothing a nice conversation and prayer can't fix."
The Marquis sighed, "permanent erection."
The silence lasted for as long as it took for the music to change. For the next few minutes the Marquis watched Ned turn varying shades of red and repeatedly open and close his mouth like a traumatized bass as "Glory to God" played softly in the background.
After two verses and the chorus Ned finally stammered, "Well. That's, um. Well, gosh, that's quite a problem. Um. Er. I'm not sure how I can help you there, though. Maybe if I still worked at the pharmacy, but as it is..."
"I was hoping you could, perhaps, speak with me. I feel the...calming...nature of your voice might do the trick."
Ned looked frighteningly relieved. "Well, sure! Any topic in particular?"
"Anything's fine."
"Would you like to hear my plans for next week's Sunday School lesson?"
The Marquis almost said no. Then the image of Richard (RICHARD) laughing at him popped into his head. "Why yes, Ned, I would."
Ned spoke about why Jesus loved the fish in the sea, but that still didn't mean they were going to heaven. He talked about Rod and Todd's latest academic achievements. He spoke of his dead wife, the productiong of 'A Streetcar Named Desire' he had been in. Ned spoke, at length, about his geraniums.
The Marquis began to pine for the days of Croup and Vandemar torturing him with sharp little razors, jagged knives, nails and dental accoutrements. At least then he had gotten to die. It made the torture of listening to Ned talk on and on somewhat unfulfilling.
His erection did not agree.
Ned paused in his monologue to warily ask, "how you doing there friend?"
The Marquis sighed. It was a distinct sigh of pain, exhaustion, and bone-deep sadness. It was the sigh of someone who still had an erection.
He shook his head no. Ned turned the color of his prized geraniums before saying, "Maybe if you help me around the house it'll help? A little activity could take your mind off it."
Over the next several hours Ned and the Marquis washed the dishes, swept and vacuumed, and then organized the bibles according to published date. Ned then suggested playing show tunes and the next few hours were spent playing the things like "42nd Street" and "Give Our Regards to Broadway" on the piano. The Marquis even attempted to sing Liza Minelli's "Like No Business I Know" (Richard. Laughing. AT HIM). Nothing worked.
The Marquis was about to give in and read the bible, or perhaps offer himself to the nearest doctor for castration when Ned sighed and said, "Well there is the oral sex."
The Marquis retained his composure. Really. He did, he swears.
Ned dropped to his knees in front of the Marqui and said, "Haven't done this since college," before fumbling with the Marquis' belt.
The Marquis was shocked. He was horrified. He was-
The Marquis dragged Ned up and into a fierce and grateful hug before rushing out of the house to be Anywhere Else.
He was positive he would never have to worry about having an erection again.
EVER.