Title: What's In a Name, or Why Bradley James Is Not a Dork
Author:
joan_waterhouseBeta:
maja_liFandom: Merlin RPF
Characters: Bradley, Angel
Rating: G
Word Count: ~ 1000
Warning: BtVS references
Summary: It just wasn't fair. Anybody should be able to see, at first glance, that if Bradley was reborn into Sunnydale he'd be none other than Angel.
A/N: My brother and I were discussing with which BtVS character Bradley'd most likely identify. I immediately thought of Xander, but then I remembered that Bradley himself had already
given us a hint in the video diaries as to who he'd like to be in Sunnydale.
Thank you to
dysonrules for enlightening me about RPGs. ♥
Disclaimer: Everything, except the conversation (which is taken from the S01 Merlin cast video diaries), is purely fictional. All Buffy and Dr. Horrible characters mentioned belong, of course, to Joss Whedon. I don't own anything but the time it took me to write this. Please don't sue me.
What's In a Name, or Why Bradley James Is Not a Dork
Bradley flopped down onto the bed in his hotel room and booted up his notebook. All he wanted to do after a long day of filming was to check his emails and maybe watch an episode or two of something Joss-related. He had his blanket wrapped comfortably around his shoulders, a bag of Maltesers by his side and his favourite episodes handy on his hard drive. Everything was ready for a calm, relaxing evening. Until he logged into gmail.
-
From: Paul
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: BUFFY EMAIL RPG
To: Bradley, Tom
Cc: Sue, Michael, Lara, Sandra, Matt
-
Hi,
I can see this is going nowhere. If I allow you two to take any more time to settle who's going to get the character we'll never start playing. This is just a game, people! (Shut up, Bradley!) Also, it's driving me nuts. That's why I decided to declare that we're going to play with the setup as it looked last time. Game starts tomorrow.
Sue - Buffy
Michael - Willow
Bradley - Xander
Lara - Giles
Tom - Angel
Sandra - Drusilla
Matt - Spike
Your hard working GM,
Paul
-
Bradley snapped his laptop shut with a bang. Xander. Again. Why did he always have to be Xander? It just wasn't fair. Anybody should be able to see, at first glance, that if Bradley was reborn into Sunnydale he'd be none other than Angel. Angel was suave, confident and had, much like Bradley himself, an athletically strong physique. Xander, on the other hand, was this dorky, clumsy, babbling guy who uttered nothing but inane drivel whenever he tried to talk to girls, i.e. the complete opposite of Bradley. It was preposterous. Had his mates never seen him wearing sunglasses? Had they never seen him chatting up girls? James Dean would have been jealous. Just like Angel, Bradley had presence. If casting directors could see that, why not his closest friends? Most of all - and this was important because he considered himself the version of Angel that had a soul - Bradley never shied away from a situation that needed his saving expertise. Bradley as Xander! Infuriating was an understatement.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Bradley, are you there? I thought we wanted to meet downstairs to explore the village?"
Right. He'd forgotten. Exploring the village. With her of all people.
+
"How's it going, Bradley? Tell us about today." She kept the camcorder aimed mercilessly at him as they walked down the streets of Villers-Cotterèts.
Bradley really didn't want to spoil her evening. To make up for his bad mood he'd even lied to her and said she was better at this whole "cast video diary" thing than he was. But at the end of the day she was still the girl that had the misfortune of representing the one thing that currently held first place on Bradley's list of things that were not right with the world. And so he put extra emphasis on the cause of his torment, "How d'you think it's going? Angel!"
Out of all the names in the world her parents had to call her Angel. Not Angela or Angie or Angelina or possibly even Angelique. No, her name had to be Angel. The worst thing was that she didn't even honour this most desirable of all names. "How is the, um, how's the fighting?" she asked, persistently annoying as hell. Talk about irony!
"How do you think it was? Angel?" Bradley wished he could get out of this and just go back to the hotel. Maybe whine at Colin a bit. That would help. Not that he'd ever admit to any cast member, not even Colin, just how much he was into RPGs; but he could just generally complain, without any details. Sadly, before he could do that he had to go through the motions of having fun exploring this blasted French village.
"I see what you mean by me being a bit better at this than you," Angel said. Bradley thought he saw her rolling her eyes. "Go on, how was it? Tell them. They want to know! They're desperate. They want to know!"
Bradley had to summon all of his acting skills to keep his sarcasm from taking over before he answered. "It was, it was just complete euphoria from start to finish. It was like the greatest moment of my life. All rolled into one day." All right, perhaps he couldn't help being a little bit sarcastic.
"Bloody hell." Angel laughed. "That's pretty good."
"Whoa, you're swearing again!" She didn't even notice that she was using one of the most un-angelic phrases British vernacular had to offer. Seriously! "What is wrong with you?"
"It really makes you notice. How much you swear. Doesn't it?"
"Not me!" How could anyone be so dense? "'Cause I don't swear."
"Oh, you're so good. You're such an angel!" That - and Bradley felt he'd been far more patient than she deserved - finally did it. Wasn't it enough that this innocent looking girl had stolen his secret name? Now she was making fun of him on top of it. If she insisted that future Merlin fans needed to know all about this, he wouldn't hesitate to tell them.
"Yes, I am. If our names were actually representational of who we are I'd be called Angel -" He turned to the camera as if telling a secret. "And she'd be called…she'd be called hussy!"
+
Unsurprisingly Angel hadn't reacted well to Bradley's last statement. He hadn't been sent to his room by anybody since he was twelve. Well, fourteen. All right, eighteen, but that had been because he'd scratched his father's new car while showing off some sliding moves. Which meant it was essentially proof of his coolness. But never had he ever been sent to his room by a girl. Some people might find this sort of thing appealing; Bradley wasn't one of them.
Sent to his room by Angel. This was definitely a new low. He had to re-watch Dr. Horrible twice to calm himself down. And just for the record, of course he'd be Captain Hammer. How utterly ridiculous to imply that Bradley James was a dork.
+ end +