So this the post where you leave anonymous comments to the person you're writing for - if you have any questions, or just telling them how much they're going to love it. ;)
Tosh Meets John Barrowman
anonymous
December 21 2009, 13:48:44 UTC
She's been at the stage door for an hour now. The crowd gets to her, with their high-pitched nervous chatter and stories of "When I met John in Cardiff..." and "I told Scott the other day, yes I did!..." This was a crazy idea, anyhow, and really unlike her to leave the Hub for a weekend of London fun, but the obsession has taken hold. She wanted to see him in all his glory, the awesome spectacle of the show, or else she would have just arranged to run into him at a store in Cardiff. She's google-mapped his house, of course, but done one better than the fangirls surrounding her. None of them have access to hundreds of years of alien tech. So she knows exactly where John and Scott shop and the brands they prefer, their dogs' routine for greeting them after they've been out, how many times a week John is "too tired" for sex, Scott's nickname for John's cock, and the preferred playlist on John's iPod, among so many other things. She's downloaded the music to her own iPod. There's a shocking number of guitar-strumming, folky songs. Perhaps a stripped-down, acoustic album is next on John's plate?
Her PDA beeps, and she muffles a "damn" (he's even making her swear!), but it's just a general Hub notification. "Medical Officer Owen Harper is currently denied access to the greenhouse." She shrugs. They can bloody well figure that out for themselves.
Suddenly there's a disturbance at the stage door, and she gasps, rising to her tiptoes. Curse her petite frame; she can't see a damn thing! But then, joy! A tall, extremely attractive German dude leans down and whispers "I've been sta -- watching this door all week. He has to come this way to get out; we'll get him!" And sure enough, her new friend is right!
Tosh can't fight the blush that warms her cheeks as John Barrowman -- John Fucking Barrowman in the Flesh! -- takes her hand and raises it to his lips. She's forgotten her name. She's forgotten where she is. She's forgotten aliens and tech and special side projects with wires, circuits and jelly. John Barrowman calls her beautiful. John Barrowman laughs at some joke her German friend has said, and she's incredibly grateful that he's retained his power of speech so that they can see John Barrowman laugh because damn, it's a gorgeous moment. John Barrowman signs her program, and something large and bound for the German, and then he's turning. Scott's in the car, waiting at the end of the alley, but John stops, for just a moment, looks over his shoulder and gives them the patented John Barrowman grin. She is warm from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She watches his arse as he walks away.
That was better than the time she beat Jack at 44th Century Chess, better than the time Owen kissed her under the mistletoe, better than the time she created a fully functioning Zaphud blaster with just a pack of chewing gum, a stapler, a vibrator and three garlic cloves. John Barrowman is joy in a cup, and the warmth of the meeting carries her all the way through her train ride back to Cardiff and the latest Rift disaster.
Her PDA beeps, and she muffles a "damn" (he's even making her swear!), but it's just a general Hub notification. "Medical Officer Owen Harper is currently denied access to the greenhouse." She shrugs. They can bloody well figure that out for themselves.
Suddenly there's a disturbance at the stage door, and she gasps, rising to her tiptoes. Curse her petite frame; she can't see a damn thing! But then, joy! A tall, extremely attractive German dude leans down and whispers "I've been sta -- watching this door all week. He has to come this way to get out; we'll get him!" And sure enough, her new friend is right!
Tosh can't fight the blush that warms her cheeks as John Barrowman -- John Fucking Barrowman in the Flesh! -- takes her hand and raises it to his lips. She's forgotten her name. She's forgotten where she is. She's forgotten aliens and tech and special side projects with wires, circuits and jelly. John Barrowman calls her beautiful. John Barrowman laughs at some joke her German friend has said, and she's incredibly grateful that he's retained his power of speech so that they can see John Barrowman laugh because damn, it's a gorgeous moment. John Barrowman signs her program, and something large and bound for the German, and then he's turning. Scott's in the car, waiting at the end of the alley, but John stops, for just a moment, looks over his shoulder and gives them the patented John Barrowman grin. She is warm from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She watches his arse as he walks away.
That was better than the time she beat Jack at 44th Century Chess, better than the time Owen kissed her under the mistletoe, better than the time she created a fully functioning Zaphud blaster with just a pack of chewing gum, a stapler, a vibrator and three garlic cloves. John Barrowman is joy in a cup, and the warmth of the meeting carries her all the way through her train ride back to Cardiff and the latest Rift disaster.
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OMG ITS ALL AWESOME BUT THAT MADE ME LAUGH OUT LOUD FOR REALZ!
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Unless you dream of N with JB, Scott or GDL. Then it is Anything Goes.
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O M G!
HAHA I LAUGHED OUT LOUD, ANON!
LOL ILU
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that is all.
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And NO I did not write that! LOL.
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THAT'S BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME!
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Yeah it was.
Sucka
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