ds_aprilfools Prompt 06 - Necktie
Prompt - 06. Necktie
Fandom - Slings & Arrows.
Pairing/Characters - Geoffrey, Anna, Darren.
Warnings - Language.
Rated - PG.
Necktie
“Geoffrey, how perfectly delicious.”
“Fuck off, Darren,” Geoffrey invited smoothly with a sickly smile. He’d reluctantly accepted Anna’s offer of help after stapling his bow tie together had failed, but he hadn’t counted on having an audience.
Darren looked ridiculous as ever, standing in the dressing room as if he owned the place, wearing a paisley print waistcoat and tartan trousers with his dinner jacket, but his tie was neatly knotted at his throat - even if it was orange.
“No, seriously, you look positively respectable.”
Anna huffed at Geoffrey in exasperation when he tried to turn his neck to follow Darren’s progress as he made an appraising lap around him. “Stand still!” she barked, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria.
“It’s just the Prime Minister, Anna. I don’t see why I have to…”
“We’ve been over this. You just do, Geoffrey. It’s respectful,” she explained, as if she were talking to a six-year-old.
“That’s right. We don’t want the PM to think that we’re a bunch of money-grabbing, narcissistic, egocentric, self-serving bigots... oh, wait - that’s his cabinet isn’t it?” Darren drawled with exaggerated realisation.
Anna’s hands froze, mid-knot, her eyes going wide while Geoffrey sniggered. “That’s… that’s… you can’t…” And she was gone in a rustle of taffeta and a tippy-tap of high heels.
“Anna!” Geoffrey called after her before the door shut, his tie unravelling onto his chest. “Anna! I’m not done! Where are you going?”
“To change the fucking seating plan…” she yelled back, her voice suspiciously squeaky, “... again.”
Geoffrey turned to Darren. “Look what you did,” he accused, beaming in that way that made Richard twitch.
“Yes, Geoffrey. You owe me,” Darren stated matter-of-factly.
“Shall we?” Geoffrey asked, pulling the tie from his neck and throwing it over his shoulder.
Darren looked Geoffrey up and down. “Hair?” he queried.
Geoffrey bent down and peered critically into the dressing room mirror to see neatly combed waves. He put both hands into the too-perfect do and scrubbed madly.
He spun back to the insanely dressed man behind him with lifted eyebrows, his hair sticking up in seventeen directions at once.
Darren nodded in approval. “Better,” he declared and held the door open for his Artistic Director.
Fin
Fandom - Slings & Arrows.
Pairing/Characters - Geoffrey, Anna, Darren.
Warnings - Language.
Rated - PG.
Necktie
“Geoffrey, how perfectly delicious.”
“Fuck off, Darren,” Geoffrey invited smoothly with a sickly smile. He’d reluctantly accepted Anna’s offer of help after stapling his bow tie together had failed, but he hadn’t counted on having an audience.
Darren looked ridiculous as ever, standing in the dressing room as if he owned the place, wearing a paisley print waistcoat and tartan trousers with his dinner jacket, but his tie was neatly knotted at his throat - even if it was orange.
“No, seriously, you look positively respectable.”
Anna huffed at Geoffrey in exasperation when he tried to turn his neck to follow Darren’s progress as he made an appraising lap around him. “Stand still!” she barked, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria.
“It’s just the Prime Minister, Anna. I don’t see why I have to…”
“We’ve been over this. You just do, Geoffrey. It’s respectful,” she explained, as if she were talking to a six-year-old.
“That’s right. We don’t want the PM to think that we’re a bunch of money-grabbing, narcissistic, egocentric, self-serving bigots... oh, wait - that’s his cabinet isn’t it?” Darren drawled with exaggerated realisation.
Anna’s hands froze, mid-knot, her eyes going wide while Geoffrey sniggered. “That’s… that’s… you can’t…” And she was gone in a rustle of taffeta and a tippy-tap of high heels.
“Anna!” Geoffrey called after her before the door shut, his tie unravelling onto his chest. “Anna! I’m not done! Where are you going?”
“To change the fucking seating plan…” she yelled back, her voice suspiciously squeaky, “... again.”
Geoffrey turned to Darren. “Look what you did,” he accused, beaming in that way that made Richard twitch.
“Yes, Geoffrey. You owe me,” Darren stated matter-of-factly.
“Shall we?” Geoffrey asked, pulling the tie from his neck and throwing it over his shoulder.
Darren looked Geoffrey up and down. “Hair?” he queried.
Geoffrey bent down and peered critically into the dressing room mirror to see neatly combed waves. He put both hands into the too-perfect do and scrubbed madly.
He spun back to the insanely dressed man behind him with lifted eyebrows, his hair sticking up in seventeen directions at once.
Darren nodded in approval. “Better,” he declared and held the door open for his Artistic Director.
Fin