8 - upwards to infinity
Welcome to our eighth prompt post.
As ususal, here are a few things to keep in mind:
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real ( Read more... )
As ususal, here are a few things to keep in mind:
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real ( Read more... )
The original model for Ed's hotel is the Swan's Nest on the Banbury Road.
* * * *
The hotel was quiet as well as traditional and, since Ed had already dined on a rather eclectic mix of foodstuffs at the post-production party, he saw no reason to linger downstairs, and retired early to his room.
There he put in a couple of hours on the “blank sheet” Labour policy document (now not so blank and looking, in fact, quite exciting if ever it became government policy). He was just about to ring room-service for some sandwiches when there was an urgent tattoo on the door.
“Ed? Let me in! It’s urgent!”
Ed took a moment to close down his laptop before sliding the catch on the door. He blinked in surprise at the sight of the PM on the threshold.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?”
“Why?” asked Ed baldly.
“Because I’m a Fugitive.” announced Cameron dramatically.
Ed thought about this, and finally sniffed.
“There won’t be a General Election, will there? No - thought not. So that would mean Clegg or Osborne. No … you’d better come in and allow yourself to be dissuaded.”
Cameron laughed easily as he stepped past Ed into the room.
“Nicely reasoned! We’ll make a Party Leader of you yet! No … sorry. SORRY! I’m a guest here and that was uncalled for. Is there anything to drink?”
“Try the fridge - over there in the faux-Tudor dowry-chest. I was going to order sandwiches. Want any?”
Ed sent for the resulting order, and installed his barely-welcome guest on the overstuffed sofa in the alcove.
“Now,” he said, “What’s all this about, Prime Minister? “
“Jeremy Hunt, Security and … “ the PM groaned, “Some IDIOT invited Peter Bone! I’d had enough. And do call me David.”
Ed grinned.
“Backbencher, eh?”
“He belongs to a prehistoric Thatcher-worshipping cult. Cornered me to tell me Iron Lady anecdotes and … “
“Oh come. You’re a Child of Thatcher, after all! You HAVE to go along with all that.”
“Shut UP! I do, of course; but I’m so TIRED of it all, Ed. And Security … I can’t MOVE any more. I escaped out of the first-floor toilet window and shinned down a drainpipe to be here. Do have a drink with me.”
“Everyone wants a piece,” agreed Ed, “I got rid of my lot this time - well none of them were invited. White wine, please.”
“There’s only a tiddly little bottle in here. Why don’t we order a proper one from the house wine list, eh?”
Ed entered a caveat.
“You’re here incognito - right? Did anyone see you?”
“Umm. Not to my knowledge. Anyway,” concluded David triumphantly draining the small bottle, “they know YOU’RE here!”
“Wonderful! So it’s me for the boozy reputation, eh?”
“Won’t do you any harm. Aw go on! Order something good. You need to chill out, Ed. How’m I going to get a good mutual moan about backbenchers out of you otherwise?”
“You don’t need any ‘mutual’, David. You’re doing pretty well on your own.”
“I need a torrent of shared self-pity. I need to let go. I need .. I need .. “
“A shoulder to cry on? That’s a bit rich, after the way you mauled me at PMQs last week.”
“Oh .. you mustn’t mind THAT. It’s just .. “ David paused, clearly thinking of an appropriate word, absentmindedly downing the small bottle of red wine from the fridge as he did so, “ …. jusht … theatre. Doesn’t mean a thing. I really reshpect you, Ed. A lot. You’re .. um …. not David for a shtart. I like that about you. An’ there’s the little badger tuft. Fascinating from acrosh the Mace. An’ the voice .. those sploshy bitsh …”
“Are you coming on to me?” asked Ed, startled.
David stared at him, head to one side.
“Yes!” he said eventually, I shuppose I am.”
Oh Lord: thought Ed: what do I do now?
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Thank you. Next bit under construction.
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1. Will you marry me? Failing that, may I bear your children? This is amazing, really just the thing to cheer you up, and really grippingly written, I love it
2. Do you read Jeeves and Wooster at all? Because your DCam voice is Adorable.
3. Please moreeeeee! ***clutches at ankles and f5s repeatedly***
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I'm glad you like it. XXX
I've read Jeeves ages ago; maybe more influenced by the Fry-Laurie tv series.
More on its way.
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On reflection I think Stratford!Cameron is less Wooster and more like a Hemulin out of the Moomintroll books..... I'm gonna get shot for Treason and Extreme Disrespect, aren't I?
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CANNOT UNSEE!
Genius!
To the me... Oh wait, I'm here already.
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I adore the Moominverse, so intend nothing bad by the comparison.
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Muahahahaha, I remember those! And you might be right, on both counts :)
And yeah, he's not /quite/ Bertie, If you see what I mean (more in control), but something of the Fry/Laurie, lighthearted universe is poking through...(Thought. If it were, it would make Thatcher Aunt Agatha? Alan would surely be Aunt Dahlia?)
BTW, did you also write the two Courtships fics? Because in that case, I'm 'guh' from the reviews, and I will now have to worship you.
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(Thinking I might create a new sekrit LJ persona ("Hemulin"?) for my lolitics fic. Here it gets done in the heat of the moment, which is fine, but I'd like to reset some of it, and correct the uncorrectable-on-lolitics typos and suchlike. If I do, I'll mention it here).
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http://lolitics-meme.livejournal.com/6006.html?thread=12422006#t12422006
It is delightful and charming and I'm loving tipsy rebel DCam and uptight baffled Ed. And Stratford! What better setting for a romantic comedy? I'm sure Shakespeare is hovering around to sprinkle a little magic dust. :)
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Would this be by any chance the Camerband promised at the end of this fic?
It might be.....
I'm glad you're enjoying it.
BTW, please say that wasn't a plotbunny just there playing hide-and-seek with Shakespeare and the magic dust ..... (Camerband in Shapespearean blank verse)
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/remembers success of other plot bunnies involving DCam in white tie and declarations and so forth...
It might be... ;)
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On a related topic .... I found a pic of EMil in a white tie too. (Sorry - I should have remembered where on the Internet it was and posted a link). Anyway - the effect on EMil wasn't half so impressive.
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(Yes, i'm a total EMiligeek, don't judge me! *hides)
~Guh.
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