muses_w_remotes | 14.17. Night at the Museum quote
14.17. “We're Americans, we don't plan, we do!”
| Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian
Co-written with notskywalker & drcampbell
Luke was leaning against the doorframe of the new Princeton bar, arms folded and a smirk on his lips as Aiden got out of his immaculate trendy silver BMW convertible. The publicist's appearance matched his car in a light grey suit with a lavender silk shirt that only a gay guy could pull off, and the look was completed with dark sunglasses and a slick black leather briefcase. Aiden was just ended a call on his cell phone, snapping it closed and pushing the sunglasses up onto his head. He set the car alarm before making his way over to Luke with a confident swagger that just emanated that he had some sort of important purpose in life. No wonder he was so successful. Luke raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "A very abrupt trip to Princeton, indeed. What's going on?"
Aiden smirked as he approached Luke. "You're just going to have to trust me," he said and turned around, eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the sidewalk with a slow nod. "Where's Tab. I need her here. It's important."
This had Luke's attention, to say the least. "She's with Riley. He's having a father-to-be crisis. How important?"
"Vital," Aiden emphasised, albeit cryptically. "She can bring Riley with her. In fact, they should bring Evie, too. The more, the merrier." He made his way past Luke into the bar and flipped open his brieface on the nearest table. He pulled out a roll of bright yellow and black tape, and went back outside, shooting Luke another small smirk. "Get a couple of those wooden wine crates you have in the basement, bring them up, and I want you to rig a mic up. Don't plug it in anywhere. Just trust me."
Luke shook his head in confusion and followed Aiden outside. "What the fuck are you on about? I hate when you say 'trust me'. Means you're up to something. You want Tab, and Riley and Evie are coming along. I don't get it. What's the point of a mic not plugged in? And wait, what? Wine crates?" he asked, holding up a hand.
Aiden snapped his fingers. "Quickly. It's important." Luke snorted, but went into the bar to grab the things requested. "Call Tab. She needs to be here."
It was then that a bunch of things happened in rapid succession. Lachlan and Tara pulled up behind Aiden, Lachlan coming over to them while Tara saw to getting the baby out of his capsule and into the buggy. "What's going on?" Lachlan asked, glancing around just as Aiden was unrolling the tape and spreading it diagonally across the freshly cleaned windows of Luke's new, yet offically opened bar. It looked like crime scene tape, but Lachlan tipped his head to the side to read the writing. "Caution. Electrical Hazard. Do not enter. Huh?"
The Scot didn't even get an answer before a firetruck pulled up with it's lights flashing. Luke exited the bar with two crates and unplugged microphone. His mouth dropped open at the firetruck, realising it was already starting to draw a crowd. The roll of tape had conveniently disappeared and Aiden had moved on to talk to the kitted up firemen. Luke turned to Lachlan. "What the fuck?" he said.
Lachlan shrugged. "I dinnae know. You having electrical problems, aye? That's a fucker, buddy. Barely days before opening. Still, crowd," he reasoned with a shrug. "Good publicity."
The penny dropped and Luke blinked. Very good publicity. Top notch. And free. Aiden had just staged a fucking publicity stunt without even telling him! The fireman started hovering around the front of the bar when Aiden came over and plucked the microphone off Luke, the smug smirk still on his lips. He disappeared into the record store next door and soon came back with the manager and store clerk... the microphone plugged into their store with an extension cord. Luke was still gaping when Aiden came to stop in front of Lachlan, hands resting on his shoulders as he held the Scotsman's gaze. "It's okay, you can still practice. No one will mind if you do it out here while they investigate the problem. No worries," he said, probably a little louder than necessary if he were just addressing Lachlan directly.
Lachlan felt something akin to his arse dropping out of him and his stomach hitting the floor simultaneously. He paled, though it would probably have only been visible to those who knew him and knew why. The firetruck and flashing lights had gathered quite the crowd now, people starting to fill out across the sidewalk to see what was going on. It probably wouldn't do to vomit all over the concrete, even if that would make some interesting publicity.
Aiden caught the terror in Lachlan's blue eyes, so he leaned in close to his ear. "You can do it. Quick set, choose classics. Just belt them out like you did at the Scotland bar that night. Think about how much you wanted to tear the mic out of Pat's hand at the party. Street publicity, man. You can't get better. Your voice, your guitar, nothing else. Show them what you can do," he encouraged and then stepped away.
By this time, Luke didn't know whether to scream in frustration or kneel down and kiss Aiden's feet. The crowd was growing still. At the very least, it had drawn attention from the locals to the bar in the broad daylight. They had also garnered support off the neighbouring record store, and now, if Lachlan could regain his composure, the band was about to be launched in the most unlikely way possible. If Lachlan got up there, and Tab followed him if she could get here, it would be prime exposure for both the bar and the band, all the result of an apparent 'accident' with the electrical wiring. It could happen to anyone. And finally, being thrust into the impromptu limelight like this, it might help Lachlan overcome a little more of his fears.
Aiden stepped up in front of the crowd and waved his hands a little for their attention. "We apologise extensively for this, ladies and gentlemen. The issue should be resolved as soon as possible. A minor leak from the rain over the weekend seems to have alerted us to some faulty wiring and it's just better to be safe than sorry. But we're on a tight schedule with the opening pending, so the singers of one of our staring acts just need to continue with their practice until we can get back inside and pick up where we left off." He gestured in Luke's direction. "Ladies and gentlemen, Luke Jackson, one of the owners of our bar along with his lovely wife Tab who is also one of our singers along with Dr Lachlan Campbell, from our wonderful local hospital, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital!" He waved his hand in Lachlan's direction.
A deer caught in headlights was another description, though there probably wasn't many deer in the world who wanted to deck their best friend's husband into a bloody pulp on the concrete. Everyone was watching him, and Lachlan couldn't see where all their hands were. They could have guns. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest, but when his eyes landed on Tara scooping their son out of the pram and watching him in deep concern, it was like cool drink of water soothed his insides. He took the microphone with a shakey hand and then climbed up onto one of he crates. The electric guitar he had left at the bar the day before was handed to him from somewhere, apparently also feeding electricity to the amp from the record store and he looped the strap over his shoulder. At any normal performance, he probably would have addressed the crowd. He was too aware of everything, though, especially that some people there would know without a doubt he was the doctor that got shot at the 'wonderful local hospital'. They were locals; of course some would know.
Classics. Why did nothing suddenly seem classic? He gripped the microphone until his knuckles were white. When the fuck did the crowd triple in size? He swallowed and met Tara's eyes, that now had tears in them, but she nodded in encouragement as she nursed Riley protectively against her chest. He drew a deep breath and push the guitar around to his back and did the only thing that could come to mind... started the clapping sequence at the beginning of Queen's 'We Will Rock You'. The crowd seemed to hesitate at first, but then automatically joined the clapping and Lachlan tapped his foot against the edge of the crate, letting the rhythm filter through him before he cupped the microphone in front of his mouth and started to sing with his whole soul, his powerful voice bouncing out over the whole crowd that had gathered. "Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playin' in the street, gonna be a big man some day! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kickin' your can all over the place! Singing we will we will rock you! We will we will rock you!"
Luke turned to look at Aiden, his mouth still hanging open slightly. "He's going to kill you," he hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "But fuck, if this works, you can have free drinks for a year."
"It'll work," Aiden said confidently. "He admitted his fears to me and laid everything on the line. But one thing I have noticed is despite the adversity, he will always step up when thrust into the spotlight. He can't help himself. He has to perform. It's in his blood and it's the only way he'll overcome it. Plus, this way, you get exposure for the bar right before it opens, I get Tab and Lachlan's name at least familiar, and with him, for something that doesn't involve the shooting. That's vital. To launch the band here in Princeton with his name linked to it, it would just be morbid curiosity. People need to hear it for themselves." He held his hand out in Lachlan's direction. "And he just does it. Sure, he looks like he wants to shit himself and maybe will when it's all over, but just watch. He lets the music lead him. If Tab ever found herself in horrific adversity like Lachlan did, my bets would lie that she would use her music to pull her through it too. It's like swallowing a pill. Same affect on their system."
"This wasn't impromptu, was it?" Luke realised, shaking his head as Lachlan reached the end of the song and crowd was already applauding and throwing requests at Lachlan.
Aiden shook his head. "Of course it wasn't. But you would never have agreed, or you would start looking at Lachlan worriedly if he was around. You would need to tell Tab, and she would get understandably excited, and then it wouldn't be so impromptu. Now they just both get to belt out some of their favourite songs and you can leave the rest up to me. The name of the bar and the phone number are all there on the sign to be seen clearly. Just wait. The opening night will be a hit and the bar will just take off by word of mouth. Money couldn't pay for exposure like this, dude. It couldn't. A place like Princeton, products just have to speak for themselves. Have you called her yet? If you don't, I will."
"I still say he's going to kill you," Luke snorted and pulled out his cell phone to bring Tab's number up.
Aiden shrugged. "But at least I'll be able to have a popular place for my wake," he pointed out. "The London in Princeton, just good music."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,978
| Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian
Co-written with notskywalker & drcampbell
Luke was leaning against the doorframe of the new Princeton bar, arms folded and a smirk on his lips as Aiden got out of his immaculate trendy silver BMW convertible. The publicist's appearance matched his car in a light grey suit with a lavender silk shirt that only a gay guy could pull off, and the look was completed with dark sunglasses and a slick black leather briefcase. Aiden was just ended a call on his cell phone, snapping it closed and pushing the sunglasses up onto his head. He set the car alarm before making his way over to Luke with a confident swagger that just emanated that he had some sort of important purpose in life. No wonder he was so successful. Luke raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "A very abrupt trip to Princeton, indeed. What's going on?"
Aiden smirked as he approached Luke. "You're just going to have to trust me," he said and turned around, eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the sidewalk with a slow nod. "Where's Tab. I need her here. It's important."
This had Luke's attention, to say the least. "She's with Riley. He's having a father-to-be crisis. How important?"
"Vital," Aiden emphasised, albeit cryptically. "She can bring Riley with her. In fact, they should bring Evie, too. The more, the merrier." He made his way past Luke into the bar and flipped open his brieface on the nearest table. He pulled out a roll of bright yellow and black tape, and went back outside, shooting Luke another small smirk. "Get a couple of those wooden wine crates you have in the basement, bring them up, and I want you to rig a mic up. Don't plug it in anywhere. Just trust me."
Luke shook his head in confusion and followed Aiden outside. "What the fuck are you on about? I hate when you say 'trust me'. Means you're up to something. You want Tab, and Riley and Evie are coming along. I don't get it. What's the point of a mic not plugged in? And wait, what? Wine crates?" he asked, holding up a hand.
Aiden snapped his fingers. "Quickly. It's important." Luke snorted, but went into the bar to grab the things requested. "Call Tab. She needs to be here."
It was then that a bunch of things happened in rapid succession. Lachlan and Tara pulled up behind Aiden, Lachlan coming over to them while Tara saw to getting the baby out of his capsule and into the buggy. "What's going on?" Lachlan asked, glancing around just as Aiden was unrolling the tape and spreading it diagonally across the freshly cleaned windows of Luke's new, yet offically opened bar. It looked like crime scene tape, but Lachlan tipped his head to the side to read the writing. "Caution. Electrical Hazard. Do not enter. Huh?"
The Scot didn't even get an answer before a firetruck pulled up with it's lights flashing. Luke exited the bar with two crates and unplugged microphone. His mouth dropped open at the firetruck, realising it was already starting to draw a crowd. The roll of tape had conveniently disappeared and Aiden had moved on to talk to the kitted up firemen. Luke turned to Lachlan. "What the fuck?" he said.
Lachlan shrugged. "I dinnae know. You having electrical problems, aye? That's a fucker, buddy. Barely days before opening. Still, crowd," he reasoned with a shrug. "Good publicity."
The penny dropped and Luke blinked. Very good publicity. Top notch. And free. Aiden had just staged a fucking publicity stunt without even telling him! The fireman started hovering around the front of the bar when Aiden came over and plucked the microphone off Luke, the smug smirk still on his lips. He disappeared into the record store next door and soon came back with the manager and store clerk... the microphone plugged into their store with an extension cord. Luke was still gaping when Aiden came to stop in front of Lachlan, hands resting on his shoulders as he held the Scotsman's gaze. "It's okay, you can still practice. No one will mind if you do it out here while they investigate the problem. No worries," he said, probably a little louder than necessary if he were just addressing Lachlan directly.
Lachlan felt something akin to his arse dropping out of him and his stomach hitting the floor simultaneously. He paled, though it would probably have only been visible to those who knew him and knew why. The firetruck and flashing lights had gathered quite the crowd now, people starting to fill out across the sidewalk to see what was going on. It probably wouldn't do to vomit all over the concrete, even if that would make some interesting publicity.
Aiden caught the terror in Lachlan's blue eyes, so he leaned in close to his ear. "You can do it. Quick set, choose classics. Just belt them out like you did at the Scotland bar that night. Think about how much you wanted to tear the mic out of Pat's hand at the party. Street publicity, man. You can't get better. Your voice, your guitar, nothing else. Show them what you can do," he encouraged and then stepped away.
By this time, Luke didn't know whether to scream in frustration or kneel down and kiss Aiden's feet. The crowd was growing still. At the very least, it had drawn attention from the locals to the bar in the broad daylight. They had also garnered support off the neighbouring record store, and now, if Lachlan could regain his composure, the band was about to be launched in the most unlikely way possible. If Lachlan got up there, and Tab followed him if she could get here, it would be prime exposure for both the bar and the band, all the result of an apparent 'accident' with the electrical wiring. It could happen to anyone. And finally, being thrust into the impromptu limelight like this, it might help Lachlan overcome a little more of his fears.
Aiden stepped up in front of the crowd and waved his hands a little for their attention. "We apologise extensively for this, ladies and gentlemen. The issue should be resolved as soon as possible. A minor leak from the rain over the weekend seems to have alerted us to some faulty wiring and it's just better to be safe than sorry. But we're on a tight schedule with the opening pending, so the singers of one of our staring acts just need to continue with their practice until we can get back inside and pick up where we left off." He gestured in Luke's direction. "Ladies and gentlemen, Luke Jackson, one of the owners of our bar along with his lovely wife Tab who is also one of our singers along with Dr Lachlan Campbell, from our wonderful local hospital, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital!" He waved his hand in Lachlan's direction.
A deer caught in headlights was another description, though there probably wasn't many deer in the world who wanted to deck their best friend's husband into a bloody pulp on the concrete. Everyone was watching him, and Lachlan couldn't see where all their hands were. They could have guns. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest, but when his eyes landed on Tara scooping their son out of the pram and watching him in deep concern, it was like cool drink of water soothed his insides. He took the microphone with a shakey hand and then climbed up onto one of he crates. The electric guitar he had left at the bar the day before was handed to him from somewhere, apparently also feeding electricity to the amp from the record store and he looped the strap over his shoulder. At any normal performance, he probably would have addressed the crowd. He was too aware of everything, though, especially that some people there would know without a doubt he was the doctor that got shot at the 'wonderful local hospital'. They were locals; of course some would know.
Classics. Why did nothing suddenly seem classic? He gripped the microphone until his knuckles were white. When the fuck did the crowd triple in size? He swallowed and met Tara's eyes, that now had tears in them, but she nodded in encouragement as she nursed Riley protectively against her chest. He drew a deep breath and push the guitar around to his back and did the only thing that could come to mind... started the clapping sequence at the beginning of Queen's 'We Will Rock You'. The crowd seemed to hesitate at first, but then automatically joined the clapping and Lachlan tapped his foot against the edge of the crate, letting the rhythm filter through him before he cupped the microphone in front of his mouth and started to sing with his whole soul, his powerful voice bouncing out over the whole crowd that had gathered. "Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playin' in the street, gonna be a big man some day! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, kickin' your can all over the place! Singing we will we will rock you! We will we will rock you!"
Luke turned to look at Aiden, his mouth still hanging open slightly. "He's going to kill you," he hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "But fuck, if this works, you can have free drinks for a year."
"It'll work," Aiden said confidently. "He admitted his fears to me and laid everything on the line. But one thing I have noticed is despite the adversity, he will always step up when thrust into the spotlight. He can't help himself. He has to perform. It's in his blood and it's the only way he'll overcome it. Plus, this way, you get exposure for the bar right before it opens, I get Tab and Lachlan's name at least familiar, and with him, for something that doesn't involve the shooting. That's vital. To launch the band here in Princeton with his name linked to it, it would just be morbid curiosity. People need to hear it for themselves." He held his hand out in Lachlan's direction. "And he just does it. Sure, he looks like he wants to shit himself and maybe will when it's all over, but just watch. He lets the music lead him. If Tab ever found herself in horrific adversity like Lachlan did, my bets would lie that she would use her music to pull her through it too. It's like swallowing a pill. Same affect on their system."
"This wasn't impromptu, was it?" Luke realised, shaking his head as Lachlan reached the end of the song and crowd was already applauding and throwing requests at Lachlan.
Aiden shook his head. "Of course it wasn't. But you would never have agreed, or you would start looking at Lachlan worriedly if he was around. You would need to tell Tab, and she would get understandably excited, and then it wouldn't be so impromptu. Now they just both get to belt out some of their favourite songs and you can leave the rest up to me. The name of the bar and the phone number are all there on the sign to be seen clearly. Just wait. The opening night will be a hit and the bar will just take off by word of mouth. Money couldn't pay for exposure like this, dude. It couldn't. A place like Princeton, products just have to speak for themselves. Have you called her yet? If you don't, I will."
"I still say he's going to kill you," Luke snorted and pulled out his cell phone to bring Tab's number up.
Aiden shrugged. "But at least I'll be able to have a popular place for my wake," he pointed out. "The London in Princeton, just good music."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 1,978