Fanfic: Stand-in
Series: Watchmen
Characters: Rorschach, Nite Owl, Laurie, Adrian
Pairings: - (If my fics ever have pairings, it's usually pretty ambiguous. Read it however you like it.)
Rating: PG for the lulz
Summary: Prompt fill for the WM Kinkmeme. Rorschach is out of commission, but in order to save a life he needs to find a stand-in. There's only one person with a build similar enough to look the part, but she has to make sure she can act the part as well.
Warnings: This fic is pretty much entirely made of crack. Comedian icon because he also enjoys lulzery (though he is not in this fic).
~~
It was the only real option, honestly. It was humiliating all around, and stupid, and ridiculous, and...well, just a slew of other uncomfortable things. But it had to be done. Adrian was probably the only one of them who accepted this with any form of dignity. Then again, he wouldn't be filling Rorschach's shoes tonight.
"Rorschach," Adrian almost crooned, arms folded over his purple suit-front. "Do you normally breathe through your mouth, or your nose?"
Rorschach lay on Veidt's abysmally purple couch, pillows in varying shades of violet propping his head and upper-body. With some difficulty, he rasped, "Don't see the importance."
He was in one hell of a bad mood, and the current circumstances were lending heavily. Two days ago, Nite Owl wasn't available for patrol, and against any other person's better judgment Rorschach had gone out to handle a bust on his own. He put every last criminal away, but had taken a serious beating. At present, he could barely sit up straight, let alone go out and fight crime.
There was another problem; Rorschach needed to be out there on patrol. It wasn't optional. A life depended on him specifically showing up tonight, and it would very likely be ended if he didn't. The situation was such that he'd actually asked Nite Owl for help on the situation, and Nite Owl's face had gone slack in amazement.
Eventually Nite Owl admitted that he didn't know how to handle the request with such a restricted time limit, and in turn, asked Adrian Veidt for help. Rorschach had begrudgingly acceded to Veidt's assistance, but had stopped talking to Nite Owl entirely.
Now they were all collected together in one of Adrian's flashy offices, working in a hurry to replace Rorschach for the night.
Veidt had found the perfect person within the same ten minutes that Dan had asked for help. Naturally, he had taken the lead with the replacement's Rorschachology training.
Every moment made Rorschach want to commit murder just a little more. And then he wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there.
Adrian seated himself on the edge of his desk, all charm and business with a dash of amusement. "It's actually very important, Rorschach. I would think that someone like you should understand how one's method of breathing might effect the more noticeable aspects of one's body."
Rorschach grumbled something under his breath. Adrian kept talking like he hadn't heard it.
"Posture, motion, how loud one might sound... Much of it can be lent to the breath. So. Mouth or nose?"
Eventually, after of moment of what could only be Rorschach scowling under his mask, he muttered, "Nose."
Adrian gave him a syrupy magazine smile and turned to Laurie. "Alright Laurel, you heard the vigilante. Please don't forget to breath through your nose tonight."
Laurie, fully equipped with a purple pinstripe suit, a dingy once-white scarf, and Rorschach's trenchcoat, glowered at anything and everything that had a pulse. This was not funny. She was not amused. And she wanted a cigarette so damn bad that her whole body had gone tense and fidgety. Adrian had complemented her, the bastard, on how accurate to Rorschach's posture she was.
"Yeah yeah," she snapped at Veidt, shoving her hands into her- Rorschach's -pockets. "Nosebreathing. Right. I'm so sure that's going to be number one on my list of things to remember while I'm kicking someone's ass."
On the couch, Rorschach shifted uncomfortably. As much as he could managed shifting, anyway.
In one of the armchairs, Nite Owl had been going steadily from optimistic to wilted. Now he tried to save the situation from any more unwanted agitation. "Come on, Laurie," he pleaded, much too close to whining for his own good. "Someone's life is at stake, here. None of us would ask this of you if we didn't-"
"I know all that," Laurie snapped, nose scrunched up in repressed anger. "Really. I agreed to help because I know this is important, but that doesn't mean I have to be all smiles and sweetness about dressing as a short, psychotic, finger-breaker with issues against washing his clothing."
A low, throaty growl emitted from the couch, possibly involving some unfriendly words. Nite Owl looked at his partner with a mixture of apology and mild fear. Rorschach's shoulders, bare for having lent his clothing to Laurie, were turning deeper shades of red by the second.
He's blushing, Dan thought guiltily. We're picking him apart, and all he can do is lay there and take it. He tried weakly to defend at least some aspect of his partner's dignity. "Look, he's not....ehm..." Dan floundered for something he could honestly deny, and came up short. "Well, I mean.... He's not psychotic." Nite Owl did not sound particularly convinced.
Adrian interjected smoothly, getting the group back on track. They only had a few hours left, after all. "I don't think," he said, looking pointedly at Rorschach, "That we have the time to start making assessments of one another's mental well-being."
Laurie huffed. Rorschach went a fraction less tense, and Dan let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Adrian continued. "A more pressing matter; We should do a quick review of what we need to expect tonight." He looked over at Laurie, one perfect eyebrow arching just slightly. "Laurel?"
Begrudgingly, Laurie made a mental check of the list before speaking it aloud. She started with the generic stuff first. "Don't take off the trenchcoat." Her chest was bound, but no one could do anything about her hips, except hide them under loose fabric. "Keep my weight on both feet, keep my wrists straight, shoulders squared." Adrian was giving her little nods of approval, so she kept going. "Predominantly left-handed, and if I have to use a recognizable fighting style, it should be boxing. And..."
Laurie took a quick breath, sparing a glance at Rorschach. Sitting incredibly still, he was either sleeping or silently murderous. Guessing by Dan's face, it was probably the latter.
She sped through all the personal tidbits that Adrian had felt necessary to dredge up. "Sweet tooth, kleptomania, terrible sense of humor, tactless, fragmented sentences, minimal use of pronouns... nosebreather-"
"Oh," Adrian interrupted her, one finger pressed to his lips in thought. "About that."
"What?" Laurie frowned at him. "The breathing thing?"
On the sofa, Rorschach muttered something that sounded like, "Not a kleptomaniac..."
"Fragmented sentences," Adrian went on without a pause. "I just realized that I haven't heard you speak like him yet. ...Can you?"
Laurie thought about this for a second, chewing lightly on her lip. "Er... Don't know," awkwardly, she tried to lower her voice and mimic that gravelly monotone. Doing this in front of Rorschach- in front of anyone, really -was embarrassing to the point of ridiculous. "Never tried. Possible setback."
She effectively managed to sound like the butchest butch lesbian to ever gargle rocks. In short, it was nothing close to what she intended.
Rorschach snorted.
Somehow, the fact that he was amused seemed to lighten the mood of the entire room. Fractionally.
"Mmm," Adrian nodded. "Yes. Well. Best you just...don't talk."
"Right." Laurie couldn't help but grin a little sheepishly. "I'll just focus on that nosebreathing."
-
Her breakfast had been interrupted by a phone call, the confident voice on the other end making her coffee go bitter in her mouth, despite the sugar.
“Laurel Jane,” his voice crooned in her ear, “Glad to find you're up so early.”
“Oh, great.” Laurie rolled her eyes, even though no one was around to appreciate the sardonic gesture. “The perfect condiment to go with my toast. Hi Adrian. Haven't you got a secretary I can talk to instead?”
Completely unruffled by the less than friendly intonations, Veidt casually nudged the conversation along. “Unfortunately this isn't a matter I can bring myself to leave in the hands of my secretary, capable though she may be...”
“But you felt the need to call me,” Laurie interrupted him. She wasn't always this acerbic with the man. He'd never really done anything to warrant a dislike from her. Not really. But he kind of made her skin crawl, and she was never a bundle of sunshine in the morning. “So, what? Do you need me to seduce Jon into doing you a favor or something, because I'm not really in the mood to add static-electricity jizz to my already ruined breakfast.”
Adrian gave her a polite laugh, eternally patient despite the pressing time constraints of the issue at hand. “No Laurel, I don't need a favor from Jon. As it happens, I'm actually asking a favor of you.”
“...Oh.” Laurie's lips twisted into a small grimace. Suddenly the thought of electrical semen became a fraction more appealing.
Veidt ignored the dismay in her voice. “It's really only because of your height, you understand. And your build. In that respect, you're almost a perfect match. Sans the stilettos of course.”
“Er.. look,” Laurie started, ready to hang up the phone at any second, “I don't know if you realize it, but out of context this is starting to sound a little creepy. Mind... er... mind clarifying a little before I decide to cut you off?” Despite herself, she was curious. What the hell kind of favor could Adrian want that required height-specifics?
Veidt went ahead and got to the point.
“I need you to impersonate Rorschach.” He said it like he was inviting her out for a picnic.
The receiver was slammed back into its cradle with a little more force than was strictly necessary.
-
The phone rang again, ten minutes later. Laurie braced herself and picked up.
“...Hello?”
“Hey Laurie,” it was Dan's voice, already apologetic.
“Ugh. Adrian told you to call me, didn't he?”
“Er...yeah,” he admitted, and Laurie could practically see his shoulders slumped with guilt. “But listen; we really do need your help on this. Rorschach's out of commission and he has to be on patrol tonight. We've got a life-or-death situation riding on this, and-”
“His?”
“What? No, no. Look, it's kind of a long story...” By now, there was a pleading quality to his voice, anxious. Laurie bit her lip and tried to ignore the guilt that was prodding at her conscience. It was always hard to deny Daniel anything; he was such a nice guy.
On the other end, Dan took a breath, bracing himself for the 'no' he was sure he was about to hear. “Please just help us out.”
There was a pause. Laurie considered her options. She could tell Dan no, and hang up again, and then spend the day feeling like a bitch. She didn't mind telling Adrian no, and she couldn't care less about hurting Rorschach's feelings- if he had them. But denying Dan when he needed help was kind of like kicking a puppy; You'd go to hell if you did it.
But then again... if she said yes, she was going to end up slipping into the clothing and persona of a sexist, paranoid, unhygienic creep who liked to steal Dan's food. It wasn't how she had planned to spend her evening. Any evening. Ever.
“Laurie?” Dan was still waiting for an answer.
Finally, she gave in.
“AUGH, fine! Yes. The answer's yes. Jeezus, Adrian's a sneaky bastard. He knew I wouldn't tell you no, didn't he? I guess I won't bother taking a shower, all things considered. Aaarg I hate you both.”
“I'll, uh... come pick you up then.” And if Dan sounded a little wounded, Laurie told herself that he deserved it for asking her to do this.
-
“Slower,” he chided. Adrian was talking Laurie through her test-run of being Rorschach. He treated the whole ordeal as though he were training a puppy. “You're walking to brusquely. And stop swinging your hips. Rorschach doesn't strike me as the type to sashay through the streets of New York.”
Frustrated, Laurie tried to slow her steps and walk in a more...masculine fashion. It wasn't easy. Men didn't have hips to avoid swinging, but she did, and keeping them keeping them from doing what they were built for was more of a challenge than she'd expected. She tried to move her arms instead, or move her shoulders, but every gait was apparently flawed in Adrian's eyes. He corrected her on the movement of her hips until she was tempted to hipcheck him right off his feet.
“Basically,” Laurie said, striding back and forth across Veidt's office, “You're telling me I need to walk as though I've got a giant stick up my ass.”
“If you want to put it in such colorful terms, then yes.” Adrian smirked. Suddenly Laurie had the distinct impression the he was envisioning her words in the literal sense, and she muttered to herself.
Great. Veidt and his ass-fantasies have just been fueled a little more. Keep your mouth shut Laurel Jane. Jeezus.
She glanced at Rorschach, who was still motionless on the couch. Though she couldn't see his face, she had the feeling he was watching her. Possibly he was wishing he could get up and break both her and Veidt's necks, for as tense as he seemed.
Laurie almost, almost, felt guilty. She and Adrian kept talking about Rorschach as though he wasn't even there, and Adrian was bringing to light a lot of personal peculiarities that basic etiquette normally demanded ignoring. Of course, it wasn't as if any of them had been unaware of these things before, but... well, it was sort of the elephant in the room, so to speak. Normally no one was willing to point out these things to Rorschach's face. Mostly because they all thought he'd destroy their vital bodily organs out of embarrassment and indignation.
As Laurie watched the prone vigilante, that masked face turned away, just slightly. He was watching her!
That creep!
Well. So much for feeling guilty.
“Whatever you're thinking about,” Adrian's voice cut into her affronted musing, “Stop it.”
He didn't sound pleased. “Have a look at yourself, Laurel, and then tell me what New York would think about our estrogen-infused Rorschach. Not particularly intimidating, if you want my honest opinion.”
In the armchair, Nite Owl was stuck between a grimace and an embarrassed laugh. Rorschach seemed tense enough to snap himself in half. Laurie made a quick mental check of her posture.
She had stopped walking, and had turned to face the couch. All her weight was on one foot, her hips curving standoffishly to one side, and she had her arms crossed in front of her. Every inch of her body was in a stereotypical pissed-off-woman stance.
In Rorschach's clothing, she could only imagine how wrong this must have looked.
“Oh,” she said. “Shit.”
“And he doesn't curse, Laurel.” Now Adrian was beginning to sound a little exasperated, though his lips still wore a hint of a smirk. “Please try to keep in mind who you're supposed to be. I understand that it's difficult for you to concentrate, and the time allotted to us for preparation is less than sufficient... But you do need to make some attempt. I could imagine that if Rorschach were in your position, and you in his, that he would have perfected his imitation of you in mere hours. As opposed to taking all day.”
Laurie uttered a disbelieving cough of a laugh, trying to imagine the scenario. “Pfft, what?”
Adrian shrugged. “Consider it a personal challenge, if that will help you.”
“Wait a second.” Laurie was grinning, hand on her hips. “Do you realize you just said that you think Rorschach would make a better transvestite?”
Nearby, Nite Owl sputtered, trying to think of a protest on his partner's behalf. There was a guttural growl from Rorschach. Adrian inclined his head noncommittally. “That's not how I'd have phrased it, but yes. You sound as though that's insulting. If you're afraid your crossdressing skills aren't up to par, well...”
A threatening voice cut him off. “Would never.”
“Of course not.” Adrian tried his best to sound patronizing. “But if the situation called for-”
“No.”
“Rorschach,” there was a small, sly smile on Adrian's lips, chin resting thoughtfully on curled knuckles. “Are you saying that if the situation were reversed, you wouldn't dress up as Silk Specter? Not even to help Laurel? Even if it meant you'd be saving a life?”
“Said no. Meant it.” After a moment's thought, Rorschach added, “Capable of saving lives without dressing like a whore.”
“Oh thanks,” Laurie spat. “Thanks a lot, you creepy jackass. I'm doing you this huge favor, and here you are saying you wouldn't even consider doing the same for me. And apparently my crimefighting skills are less effective because I don't wear a reeking trenchcoat to cover up my shameful woman parts? What is that?” Irate and offended, she turned to Nite Owl, who nearly cringed. “How the hell do you work with him? Or does he save a special brand of jackassery just for me?”
Nite Owl raised his hands in a defensive gesture and looked from Laurie to Rorschach. There was no way he could avoid offending one of them or the other, and he certainly couldn't placate them both. Part of him wished they could just drug Rorschach up with painkillers so that he wouldn't be present for this conversation. “Eeh. Look, ah... Rorschach, he's always... I mean, you know.”
Adrian rolled his eyes, half wondering why he alone seemed capable of focusing on the task at hand.
“If it isn't too terribly difficult for you,” he started, demanding the attention of the precarious trio. “I think we should put this conversation aside until later. Laurel, walk. And pay attention to how you're doing it. You've got less than thirty minutes before you need to head out.”
Laurie huffed, pushing her hair out of her face, and began stalking across the office. Adrian gave her an approving smile and looked at Rorschach. “There's one more issue that needs discussing, Rorschach. I think you know what that is.” He gave the injured vigilante as calculating look.
Rorschach, for his part, seemed to take this in stride. “...My face.”
“Yes. And a good thing it's not actually attached, too. Now.” Adrian held out a hand expectantly, as if he really thought Rorschach would just pull off the mask and pass it to him.
Or course, it wasn't that easy.
Rorschach seemed to stare at his hand for a moment, blots shifting in contemplation over the white. Then he grumbled, “Not exposing identity, Veidt. If you think-”
“Do I really need to remind you that the mask is a little more than vital?” Now Adrian did sound like his patience was being tried. “This isn't a toy truck you don't feel like sharing with the other children. Or did you forget about the life which is entirely dependent upon 'you' tonight?”
All he got was a belligerent hurm, and then Nite Owl spoke up.
“I have an idea,” he stood from the chair, hesitant to suggest what he had in mind, but determined to get all of this over and done with. “It's...well. It's a little unorthodox, but it'll serve the purpose.”
Everyone in the room waited, their attention on him in full.
“Well. I mean, I don't have to patrol tonight, and everyone in this room already knows my identity. So, there's not much point in wearing these.” He gestured to his cowl and goggles, which had long since been pushed back from his face.
There was a long pause as the statement settled in. Adrian seemed to take Dan's meaning right away, but a moment passed before Laurie started laughing loudly.
“Oh my god!” She held her sides, doubling over. “Yes! Perfect! Fucking perfect, Dan!”
She was still laughing as Adrian and a maskless Dan ushered her from the office, leaving Rorschach to remove his 'face' in privacy.
When they returned, the mask lay on the coffee table, blots shifting sluggishly without a heat source to move them. Rorschach had his arms crossed in defiance across his chest. Nite Owl's cowl his his hair and a good portion of his face. The goggles covered his eyes. Only Rorschach's nose and mouth were exposed now, and that was nothing they hadn't seen before.
This was fine, he was trying to tell himself. Fine like this.
Laurie burst into a new round of hysterical laughter while Dan tried hard not to follow suit. Adrian still wore his usual smirk, but it seemed a little wider than before.
“Right,” he said, clearing his throat of an impending chuckle. “Well, Laurel. Down to business, shall we? It's about time you headed out.”
Eyes watering and cheeks pink, Laurie went to the table and retrieved the mask. She bit her lip to suppress a grin and tried not to look at Rorschach.
Rorschach wearing Dan's cowl.
Rorschach half-dressed as Nite Owl.
Niteschach.
Rorschowl.
She he to fight down more laughter as she pulled the mask over her face, way too amused with her own stupid jokes to worry about how filthy this particular garment might be.
“Well?” she asked through the giggling, turning to face Dan and Adrian. She assumed a rigid posture and shoved her hands into the pockets of the trenchcoat. “How's this? Convincing?”
Adrian applauded as though he were attending a game of golf. Dan was either astonished, or freaked out.
Laurie didn't need to see the twist of Rorschach's lips to know that he was probably daydreaming of retribution for this unforgivable crime.
“Well,” Veidt gestured to the door of his office, shooing the temporary Rorschach out. “No time to waste. Go save somebody. Just remember everything we've been over.”
“Right,” Laurie humorously used her gravel-eating butch voice. “Nosebreathing.”
“Good girl.”
She flipped Adrian the bird and left the office. Time to fight some crime.
Laurschach's journal, she thought to herself, unaware that Rorschach actually did keep a journal. Seem to have grown breasts overnight. Now less of a vile pig than usual. Possibly even awesome. Obvious improvement.
And if the people she encountered that night spread rumors of Rorschach suffering occasional fits of girlish giggling, well, they only seemed more terrified of him than before, and they still went to jail with broken fingers.
Characters: Rorschach, Nite Owl, Laurie, Adrian
Pairings: - (If my fics ever have pairings, it's usually pretty ambiguous. Read it however you like it.)
Rating: PG for the lulz
Summary: Prompt fill for the WM Kinkmeme. Rorschach is out of commission, but in order to save a life he needs to find a stand-in. There's only one person with a build similar enough to look the part, but she has to make sure she can act the part as well.
Warnings: This fic is pretty much entirely made of crack. Comedian icon because he also enjoys lulzery (though he is not in this fic).
~~
It was the only real option, honestly. It was humiliating all around, and stupid, and ridiculous, and...well, just a slew of other uncomfortable things. But it had to be done. Adrian was probably the only one of them who accepted this with any form of dignity. Then again, he wouldn't be filling Rorschach's shoes tonight.
"Rorschach," Adrian almost crooned, arms folded over his purple suit-front. "Do you normally breathe through your mouth, or your nose?"
Rorschach lay on Veidt's abysmally purple couch, pillows in varying shades of violet propping his head and upper-body. With some difficulty, he rasped, "Don't see the importance."
He was in one hell of a bad mood, and the current circumstances were lending heavily. Two days ago, Nite Owl wasn't available for patrol, and against any other person's better judgment Rorschach had gone out to handle a bust on his own. He put every last criminal away, but had taken a serious beating. At present, he could barely sit up straight, let alone go out and fight crime.
There was another problem; Rorschach needed to be out there on patrol. It wasn't optional. A life depended on him specifically showing up tonight, and it would very likely be ended if he didn't. The situation was such that he'd actually asked Nite Owl for help on the situation, and Nite Owl's face had gone slack in amazement.
Eventually Nite Owl admitted that he didn't know how to handle the request with such a restricted time limit, and in turn, asked Adrian Veidt for help. Rorschach had begrudgingly acceded to Veidt's assistance, but had stopped talking to Nite Owl entirely.
Now they were all collected together in one of Adrian's flashy offices, working in a hurry to replace Rorschach for the night.
Veidt had found the perfect person within the same ten minutes that Dan had asked for help. Naturally, he had taken the lead with the replacement's Rorschachology training.
Every moment made Rorschach want to commit murder just a little more. And then he wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there.
Adrian seated himself on the edge of his desk, all charm and business with a dash of amusement. "It's actually very important, Rorschach. I would think that someone like you should understand how one's method of breathing might effect the more noticeable aspects of one's body."
Rorschach grumbled something under his breath. Adrian kept talking like he hadn't heard it.
"Posture, motion, how loud one might sound... Much of it can be lent to the breath. So. Mouth or nose?"
Eventually, after of moment of what could only be Rorschach scowling under his mask, he muttered, "Nose."
Adrian gave him a syrupy magazine smile and turned to Laurie. "Alright Laurel, you heard the vigilante. Please don't forget to breath through your nose tonight."
Laurie, fully equipped with a purple pinstripe suit, a dingy once-white scarf, and Rorschach's trenchcoat, glowered at anything and everything that had a pulse. This was not funny. She was not amused. And she wanted a cigarette so damn bad that her whole body had gone tense and fidgety. Adrian had complemented her, the bastard, on how accurate to Rorschach's posture she was.
"Yeah yeah," she snapped at Veidt, shoving her hands into her- Rorschach's -pockets. "Nosebreathing. Right. I'm so sure that's going to be number one on my list of things to remember while I'm kicking someone's ass."
On the couch, Rorschach shifted uncomfortably. As much as he could managed shifting, anyway.
In one of the armchairs, Nite Owl had been going steadily from optimistic to wilted. Now he tried to save the situation from any more unwanted agitation. "Come on, Laurie," he pleaded, much too close to whining for his own good. "Someone's life is at stake, here. None of us would ask this of you if we didn't-"
"I know all that," Laurie snapped, nose scrunched up in repressed anger. "Really. I agreed to help because I know this is important, but that doesn't mean I have to be all smiles and sweetness about dressing as a short, psychotic, finger-breaker with issues against washing his clothing."
A low, throaty growl emitted from the couch, possibly involving some unfriendly words. Nite Owl looked at his partner with a mixture of apology and mild fear. Rorschach's shoulders, bare for having lent his clothing to Laurie, were turning deeper shades of red by the second.
He's blushing, Dan thought guiltily. We're picking him apart, and all he can do is lay there and take it. He tried weakly to defend at least some aspect of his partner's dignity. "Look, he's not....ehm..." Dan floundered for something he could honestly deny, and came up short. "Well, I mean.... He's not psychotic." Nite Owl did not sound particularly convinced.
Adrian interjected smoothly, getting the group back on track. They only had a few hours left, after all. "I don't think," he said, looking pointedly at Rorschach, "That we have the time to start making assessments of one another's mental well-being."
Laurie huffed. Rorschach went a fraction less tense, and Dan let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Adrian continued. "A more pressing matter; We should do a quick review of what we need to expect tonight." He looked over at Laurie, one perfect eyebrow arching just slightly. "Laurel?"
Begrudgingly, Laurie made a mental check of the list before speaking it aloud. She started with the generic stuff first. "Don't take off the trenchcoat." Her chest was bound, but no one could do anything about her hips, except hide them under loose fabric. "Keep my weight on both feet, keep my wrists straight, shoulders squared." Adrian was giving her little nods of approval, so she kept going. "Predominantly left-handed, and if I have to use a recognizable fighting style, it should be boxing. And..."
Laurie took a quick breath, sparing a glance at Rorschach. Sitting incredibly still, he was either sleeping or silently murderous. Guessing by Dan's face, it was probably the latter.
She sped through all the personal tidbits that Adrian had felt necessary to dredge up. "Sweet tooth, kleptomania, terrible sense of humor, tactless, fragmented sentences, minimal use of pronouns... nosebreather-"
"Oh," Adrian interrupted her, one finger pressed to his lips in thought. "About that."
"What?" Laurie frowned at him. "The breathing thing?"
On the sofa, Rorschach muttered something that sounded like, "Not a kleptomaniac..."
"Fragmented sentences," Adrian went on without a pause. "I just realized that I haven't heard you speak like him yet. ...Can you?"
Laurie thought about this for a second, chewing lightly on her lip. "Er... Don't know," awkwardly, she tried to lower her voice and mimic that gravelly monotone. Doing this in front of Rorschach- in front of anyone, really -was embarrassing to the point of ridiculous. "Never tried. Possible setback."
She effectively managed to sound like the butchest butch lesbian to ever gargle rocks. In short, it was nothing close to what she intended.
Rorschach snorted.
Somehow, the fact that he was amused seemed to lighten the mood of the entire room. Fractionally.
"Mmm," Adrian nodded. "Yes. Well. Best you just...don't talk."
"Right." Laurie couldn't help but grin a little sheepishly. "I'll just focus on that nosebreathing."
-
Her breakfast had been interrupted by a phone call, the confident voice on the other end making her coffee go bitter in her mouth, despite the sugar.
“Laurel Jane,” his voice crooned in her ear, “Glad to find you're up so early.”
“Oh, great.” Laurie rolled her eyes, even though no one was around to appreciate the sardonic gesture. “The perfect condiment to go with my toast. Hi Adrian. Haven't you got a secretary I can talk to instead?”
Completely unruffled by the less than friendly intonations, Veidt casually nudged the conversation along. “Unfortunately this isn't a matter I can bring myself to leave in the hands of my secretary, capable though she may be...”
“But you felt the need to call me,” Laurie interrupted him. She wasn't always this acerbic with the man. He'd never really done anything to warrant a dislike from her. Not really. But he kind of made her skin crawl, and she was never a bundle of sunshine in the morning. “So, what? Do you need me to seduce Jon into doing you a favor or something, because I'm not really in the mood to add static-electricity jizz to my already ruined breakfast.”
Adrian gave her a polite laugh, eternally patient despite the pressing time constraints of the issue at hand. “No Laurel, I don't need a favor from Jon. As it happens, I'm actually asking a favor of you.”
“...Oh.” Laurie's lips twisted into a small grimace. Suddenly the thought of electrical semen became a fraction more appealing.
Veidt ignored the dismay in her voice. “It's really only because of your height, you understand. And your build. In that respect, you're almost a perfect match. Sans the stilettos of course.”
“Er.. look,” Laurie started, ready to hang up the phone at any second, “I don't know if you realize it, but out of context this is starting to sound a little creepy. Mind... er... mind clarifying a little before I decide to cut you off?” Despite herself, she was curious. What the hell kind of favor could Adrian want that required height-specifics?
Veidt went ahead and got to the point.
“I need you to impersonate Rorschach.” He said it like he was inviting her out for a picnic.
The receiver was slammed back into its cradle with a little more force than was strictly necessary.
-
The phone rang again, ten minutes later. Laurie braced herself and picked up.
“...Hello?”
“Hey Laurie,” it was Dan's voice, already apologetic.
“Ugh. Adrian told you to call me, didn't he?”
“Er...yeah,” he admitted, and Laurie could practically see his shoulders slumped with guilt. “But listen; we really do need your help on this. Rorschach's out of commission and he has to be on patrol tonight. We've got a life-or-death situation riding on this, and-”
“His?”
“What? No, no. Look, it's kind of a long story...” By now, there was a pleading quality to his voice, anxious. Laurie bit her lip and tried to ignore the guilt that was prodding at her conscience. It was always hard to deny Daniel anything; he was such a nice guy.
On the other end, Dan took a breath, bracing himself for the 'no' he was sure he was about to hear. “Please just help us out.”
There was a pause. Laurie considered her options. She could tell Dan no, and hang up again, and then spend the day feeling like a bitch. She didn't mind telling Adrian no, and she couldn't care less about hurting Rorschach's feelings- if he had them. But denying Dan when he needed help was kind of like kicking a puppy; You'd go to hell if you did it.
But then again... if she said yes, she was going to end up slipping into the clothing and persona of a sexist, paranoid, unhygienic creep who liked to steal Dan's food. It wasn't how she had planned to spend her evening. Any evening. Ever.
“Laurie?” Dan was still waiting for an answer.
Finally, she gave in.
“AUGH, fine! Yes. The answer's yes. Jeezus, Adrian's a sneaky bastard. He knew I wouldn't tell you no, didn't he? I guess I won't bother taking a shower, all things considered. Aaarg I hate you both.”
“I'll, uh... come pick you up then.” And if Dan sounded a little wounded, Laurie told herself that he deserved it for asking her to do this.
-
“Slower,” he chided. Adrian was talking Laurie through her test-run of being Rorschach. He treated the whole ordeal as though he were training a puppy. “You're walking to brusquely. And stop swinging your hips. Rorschach doesn't strike me as the type to sashay through the streets of New York.”
Frustrated, Laurie tried to slow her steps and walk in a more...masculine fashion. It wasn't easy. Men didn't have hips to avoid swinging, but she did, and keeping them keeping them from doing what they were built for was more of a challenge than she'd expected. She tried to move her arms instead, or move her shoulders, but every gait was apparently flawed in Adrian's eyes. He corrected her on the movement of her hips until she was tempted to hipcheck him right off his feet.
“Basically,” Laurie said, striding back and forth across Veidt's office, “You're telling me I need to walk as though I've got a giant stick up my ass.”
“If you want to put it in such colorful terms, then yes.” Adrian smirked. Suddenly Laurie had the distinct impression the he was envisioning her words in the literal sense, and she muttered to herself.
Great. Veidt and his ass-fantasies have just been fueled a little more. Keep your mouth shut Laurel Jane. Jeezus.
She glanced at Rorschach, who was still motionless on the couch. Though she couldn't see his face, she had the feeling he was watching her. Possibly he was wishing he could get up and break both her and Veidt's necks, for as tense as he seemed.
Laurie almost, almost, felt guilty. She and Adrian kept talking about Rorschach as though he wasn't even there, and Adrian was bringing to light a lot of personal peculiarities that basic etiquette normally demanded ignoring. Of course, it wasn't as if any of them had been unaware of these things before, but... well, it was sort of the elephant in the room, so to speak. Normally no one was willing to point out these things to Rorschach's face. Mostly because they all thought he'd destroy their vital bodily organs out of embarrassment and indignation.
As Laurie watched the prone vigilante, that masked face turned away, just slightly. He was watching her!
That creep!
Well. So much for feeling guilty.
“Whatever you're thinking about,” Adrian's voice cut into her affronted musing, “Stop it.”
He didn't sound pleased. “Have a look at yourself, Laurel, and then tell me what New York would think about our estrogen-infused Rorschach. Not particularly intimidating, if you want my honest opinion.”
In the armchair, Nite Owl was stuck between a grimace and an embarrassed laugh. Rorschach seemed tense enough to snap himself in half. Laurie made a quick mental check of her posture.
She had stopped walking, and had turned to face the couch. All her weight was on one foot, her hips curving standoffishly to one side, and she had her arms crossed in front of her. Every inch of her body was in a stereotypical pissed-off-woman stance.
In Rorschach's clothing, she could only imagine how wrong this must have looked.
“Oh,” she said. “Shit.”
“And he doesn't curse, Laurel.” Now Adrian was beginning to sound a little exasperated, though his lips still wore a hint of a smirk. “Please try to keep in mind who you're supposed to be. I understand that it's difficult for you to concentrate, and the time allotted to us for preparation is less than sufficient... But you do need to make some attempt. I could imagine that if Rorschach were in your position, and you in his, that he would have perfected his imitation of you in mere hours. As opposed to taking all day.”
Laurie uttered a disbelieving cough of a laugh, trying to imagine the scenario. “Pfft, what?”
Adrian shrugged. “Consider it a personal challenge, if that will help you.”
“Wait a second.” Laurie was grinning, hand on her hips. “Do you realize you just said that you think Rorschach would make a better transvestite?”
Nearby, Nite Owl sputtered, trying to think of a protest on his partner's behalf. There was a guttural growl from Rorschach. Adrian inclined his head noncommittally. “That's not how I'd have phrased it, but yes. You sound as though that's insulting. If you're afraid your crossdressing skills aren't up to par, well...”
A threatening voice cut him off. “Would never.”
“Of course not.” Adrian tried his best to sound patronizing. “But if the situation called for-”
“No.”
“Rorschach,” there was a small, sly smile on Adrian's lips, chin resting thoughtfully on curled knuckles. “Are you saying that if the situation were reversed, you wouldn't dress up as Silk Specter? Not even to help Laurel? Even if it meant you'd be saving a life?”
“Said no. Meant it.” After a moment's thought, Rorschach added, “Capable of saving lives without dressing like a whore.”
“Oh thanks,” Laurie spat. “Thanks a lot, you creepy jackass. I'm doing you this huge favor, and here you are saying you wouldn't even consider doing the same for me. And apparently my crimefighting skills are less effective because I don't wear a reeking trenchcoat to cover up my shameful woman parts? What is that?” Irate and offended, she turned to Nite Owl, who nearly cringed. “How the hell do you work with him? Or does he save a special brand of jackassery just for me?”
Nite Owl raised his hands in a defensive gesture and looked from Laurie to Rorschach. There was no way he could avoid offending one of them or the other, and he certainly couldn't placate them both. Part of him wished they could just drug Rorschach up with painkillers so that he wouldn't be present for this conversation. “Eeh. Look, ah... Rorschach, he's always... I mean, you know.”
Adrian rolled his eyes, half wondering why he alone seemed capable of focusing on the task at hand.
“If it isn't too terribly difficult for you,” he started, demanding the attention of the precarious trio. “I think we should put this conversation aside until later. Laurel, walk. And pay attention to how you're doing it. You've got less than thirty minutes before you need to head out.”
Laurie huffed, pushing her hair out of her face, and began stalking across the office. Adrian gave her an approving smile and looked at Rorschach. “There's one more issue that needs discussing, Rorschach. I think you know what that is.” He gave the injured vigilante as calculating look.
Rorschach, for his part, seemed to take this in stride. “...My face.”
“Yes. And a good thing it's not actually attached, too. Now.” Adrian held out a hand expectantly, as if he really thought Rorschach would just pull off the mask and pass it to him.
Or course, it wasn't that easy.
Rorschach seemed to stare at his hand for a moment, blots shifting in contemplation over the white. Then he grumbled, “Not exposing identity, Veidt. If you think-”
“Do I really need to remind you that the mask is a little more than vital?” Now Adrian did sound like his patience was being tried. “This isn't a toy truck you don't feel like sharing with the other children. Or did you forget about the life which is entirely dependent upon 'you' tonight?”
All he got was a belligerent hurm, and then Nite Owl spoke up.
“I have an idea,” he stood from the chair, hesitant to suggest what he had in mind, but determined to get all of this over and done with. “It's...well. It's a little unorthodox, but it'll serve the purpose.”
Everyone in the room waited, their attention on him in full.
“Well. I mean, I don't have to patrol tonight, and everyone in this room already knows my identity. So, there's not much point in wearing these.” He gestured to his cowl and goggles, which had long since been pushed back from his face.
There was a long pause as the statement settled in. Adrian seemed to take Dan's meaning right away, but a moment passed before Laurie started laughing loudly.
“Oh my god!” She held her sides, doubling over. “Yes! Perfect! Fucking perfect, Dan!”
She was still laughing as Adrian and a maskless Dan ushered her from the office, leaving Rorschach to remove his 'face' in privacy.
When they returned, the mask lay on the coffee table, blots shifting sluggishly without a heat source to move them. Rorschach had his arms crossed in defiance across his chest. Nite Owl's cowl his his hair and a good portion of his face. The goggles covered his eyes. Only Rorschach's nose and mouth were exposed now, and that was nothing they hadn't seen before.
This was fine, he was trying to tell himself. Fine like this.
Laurie burst into a new round of hysterical laughter while Dan tried hard not to follow suit. Adrian still wore his usual smirk, but it seemed a little wider than before.
“Right,” he said, clearing his throat of an impending chuckle. “Well, Laurel. Down to business, shall we? It's about time you headed out.”
Eyes watering and cheeks pink, Laurie went to the table and retrieved the mask. She bit her lip to suppress a grin and tried not to look at Rorschach.
Rorschach wearing Dan's cowl.
Rorschach half-dressed as Nite Owl.
Niteschach.
Rorschowl.
She he to fight down more laughter as she pulled the mask over her face, way too amused with her own stupid jokes to worry about how filthy this particular garment might be.
“Well?” she asked through the giggling, turning to face Dan and Adrian. She assumed a rigid posture and shoved her hands into the pockets of the trenchcoat. “How's this? Convincing?”
Adrian applauded as though he were attending a game of golf. Dan was either astonished, or freaked out.
Laurie didn't need to see the twist of Rorschach's lips to know that he was probably daydreaming of retribution for this unforgivable crime.
“Well,” Veidt gestured to the door of his office, shooing the temporary Rorschach out. “No time to waste. Go save somebody. Just remember everything we've been over.”
“Right,” Laurie humorously used her gravel-eating butch voice. “Nosebreathing.”
“Good girl.”
She flipped Adrian the bird and left the office. Time to fight some crime.
Laurschach's journal, she thought to herself, unaware that Rorschach actually did keep a journal. Seem to have grown breasts overnight. Now less of a vile pig than usual. Possibly even awesome. Obvious improvement.
And if the people she encountered that night spread rumors of Rorschach suffering occasional fits of girlish giggling, well, they only seemed more terrified of him than before, and they still went to jail with broken fingers.