What I Wouldn't Do
Title: What I Wouldn't Do
Characters: Bandverse, so Remus, Tara, Sara, Sirius, Elaine, Sam, Lily, and James are all mentioned.
Rating: K+
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Tara has a problem, so she asks her friend Remus for help.
Notes: Another Bandverse drabble, for a weekly drabble prompt. "Sweet".
Disclaimer: Do not own Mirrorverse. Do not own Remus, Sirius, Lily, or James.
She’s a crap piano player, and Sara is visiting relatives that week - “Though I AM reluctant to do this” - so she’s having trouble putting a new song together.
She’s strictly guitar, but she and Sara always collaborate and work it out as soon as inspiration strikes. But Sara is hours away for the next week, and if she doesn’t figure it out soon, she knows that she’ll lose her mojo.
So she calls Remus. “Come over, I need your help.”
“Tara, it’s… four in the morning.” He mumbles into the phone.
“So? I’ve been trying to work this out for the past two hours, and I’m desperate. So get off your couch, turn off the XBox, put on your pants, and GET OVER TO MY HOUSE.”
“It is startling how well you know me.” He turns off the XBox and starts looking around for his jeans. They’re under Sirius’s head, a makeshift pillow. He hardly stirs as Remus yanks the jeans out from under him. Dude could sleep though a tornado of Hell’s Angels. And probably has. "Got ‘em.”
“Awesomesauce. See you in ten. Bring food.” She hands up the phone and looks for her ream of blank staff paper.
He’s almost to the door when he decides to let Sirius know that he’s going out. He gets a mumble about egg rolls. Are there even Chinese places open this late? He could check. Egg rolls DO sound good right now. And he was told to bring food, so…
He finally gets to her house, munching on an egg roll, when she flings open the door and pulls him inside by his collar, simultaneously taking the food and throwing him in front of the keyboard.
Her roommates keep odd hours, but he knows that Lily is at James’s place, and Sam is fiddling - no pun intended - in the kitchen with a cake - preemptive stress-baking.
Elaine waves on her way out the door, stealing a box from the bag of egg rolls he brought, on her way to an early shift. Won Ton Eddie knows them well enough now to sell him six boxes of ten rolls each, with sweet-and-sour sauce thrown in.
He and Tara sit and work until Sam comes into the living room with bowls of Apple Jacks, around ten am, and they eat a quick breakfast. She goes to sleep, so they do, too.
They wake up seven hours later and work it out until they’re done, after both of them call their places of work to get time off. Record stores and book stores don’t really get a lot of customers during the week.
It’s four am again when they finally collapse with ten disorganized pages of sheet music for the keyboard to work around later.
He turns to her and yawns. “You are so lucky I’m so sweet.”
She laughs. “Does that make me the sour?”
“Yum.”