Enigma Variations, 2: Kind of Blue
Title: Enigma Variations, 2/?
Summary: Naboo drinks the potion
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Howard falls asleep on the sofa
Length: about 1150 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: the Blatant Plot Device is still going strong and the scenario it’s generated is improbable in the extreme, but I hope it’s also cute enough that you’ll forgive me! (I really, really want someone to draw the closing scene for me…)
Enigma Variations
2 Kind of Blue
“You’ll have to shut your eyes,” Naboo says sternly.“I’m not doin’ eye contact, I don’t want you looking into my soul. Nuffink personal, you know? I just don’t need to go there at the moment. And neither do you.”
He unstoppers the bottle, releasing a puff of brownish vapour and an acrid smell. “Eeeuww.” He wrinkles his nose. “No wonder it’s not good for goldfish.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Howard says.
“Yeah, I do. Where’m I going to get another employee like Vince? They’d have to be willin’ to share a room with you, for a start. This may be a long shot, but that’d be even longer. So shut up.”
He has a point. Howard shuts up.
Naboo takes a deep breath, and gulps the potion down in one. He shudders, retches, and swallows hard.
“You OK, Naboo?”
“Don’t ask. Just shut your eyes,” the shaman grits through clenched teeth.
Howard obeys, and the world turns to the dull brown of the inside of his eyelids.
He can hear the rain beating on the window, and Naboo’s rapid, shallow breathing.
He wonders what Vince is doing right now.
And whether Naboo’s going to throw up.
“Peppermint,” Naboo says, after a while.
“You what?”
“Tastes of peppermint now, instead of like Vince’s cooking. I think it’s ready to transmit.”
“So, erm, how do you do that? Do you sneeze on me, or wave a wand, or what?”
“Simple connection should do it. Touch. Layin’ on of hands, that sort of thing.”
“OK, that doesn’t sound too difficult. Go ahead.” Howard’s heart is pounding. But he’s gone too far now to turn back.
Naboo lays a hand on his arm. “Anything?”
“What should happen?”
“Hmmm. Maybe we need skin contact.” Naboo slides his hand down to Howard’s wrist. His fingers are cold, and the touch is slightly hesitant, as though he expects to be rejected. “Anything now?”
Howard shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry.”
“You should be seeing a colour.” The cold fingers thread themselves through Howard’s.
“What colour?” Howard curls his own fingers around Naboo’s, and holds on.
“You’d know if you were seein’ it. I don’t know what’s gone wrong. It may still be incompatible, or you don’t have enough memory to run complex magic. Or maybe the stuff was just out of date.”
“Well, never mind.” Howard bites back the desperate disappointment clutching at the back of his throat. “Thanks for trying, anyway. I guess I’ll just have to - to talk to him…”
“There is one more thing we could try. We may have got the wrong sort of connection, I’m not an expert on human systems… What are you prepared to do, to get him back?”
“Anything. I’m doing this, aren’t I?”
“All right. Let’s try kissing.”
The shaman’s voice is still perfectly level. Howard lets go of his hand as though it’s burnt him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah, I never thought I’d ever hear me say that to you either. Good thing Bollo’s out shoppin’. Let’s just - get on with it. And keep your eyes shut.”
Howard screws his eyes up even tighter. “Right. Kiss me.”
“Nice chat-up technique,” Naboo says, giggling suddenly. “Nearly as good as mine. You comin’ on to me, Howard Moon?”
“Stop enjoying my discomfiture, sir.” Howard reaches out cautiously, his hand flinching back as it touches Naboo’s silky hair. “This is a purely professional arrangement.”
“Whatever you say.” Naboo is still shaking with laughter.
“Are you high?” Howard asks, severely.
“Yeah. Just a bit.”
Naboo leans in and presses his lips briefly to Howard’s.
“Anythin’?”
“No, nothing. Just - brown. Never mind, at least we tr-”
The small hands gripping the back of Howard’s head are surprisingly strong; the shaman’s mouth is cool. He tastes of peppermint.
“How about now?”
“Still nothing.”
“I’m sorry.” Naboo releases his hold. “No hard feelings, eh?” He butterflies a fingertip across Howard’s cheek.
A flash of peacock-blue flits across the dingy brown landscape inside Howard’s eyelids, like the flutter of a tiny wing.
“Could we… could we try that again?”
“Third time lucky?” Naboo’s voice is thoughtful. “Could be. Honestly, why these potion designers have to make them so complicated… OK, why not, we’ve got this far an’ it’s been…”
He takes a deep breath, and takes Howard’s face between his hands.
“Nice,” he says, sounding faintly surprised. “Yeah. It’s been nice.”
This time the kiss is deep and languid and very nice indeed, although Howard is relieved to find that it’s not turning him on.
And this time there is no mistaking the brilliant, glowing blue that is spreading itself across his whole field of not-vision.
He feels a rush of gratitude, and returns the kiss; reaches up to run his fingers through Naboo’s hair, caressing him behind his ears, breathing in his scent of exotic spices and illicit substances.
“You’ve got it now,” Naboo says, as they break apart. “Peacock blue, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad we made it work.”
There is an odd note of regret in Naboo’s voice. Howard slips an arm around his shoulders. “You OK?”
“Guess so. Magic always takes it out of me a bit.”
Somehow, Howard knows that he’s not telling the whole truth. In the same way that he knew that Naboo would be sensitive behind his ears; and that the little alien is, for all his apparent self-sufficiency, as crushingly lonely as Howard is himself.
He lifts Naboo’s chin, and kisses him again, very gently.
“What was that for?”
“Kindness,” Howard says. “People aren’t kind to you very often, are they?”
Naboo shrugs. “Guess not.” Then he tenses. “How d’you know? Shit, this stuff’s stronger than I thought, we’re getting psychic leakage. Should never have bought that cut-price foil turban liner from Tony bloody Harrison, they never work…”
He struggles to pull away, but Howard holds him firm. “No, I don’t think it’s… I mean, I think I’d have known anyway. Just from… how you are. You haven’t…”
“No, I haven’t. Not much. Bit like you, eh?” Naboo relaxes into the curve of Howard’s shoulder, and heaves a deep sigh, with a little catch in it. Then he shakes his head. “Sorry. Don’t mind me.”
Howard is suddenly reminded of his mother, who used to sigh like that, and of what his dad used to say to her, half-joking, when she did… back in the days when they were still speaking to each other…
“Bad time of the… century?”
“Half-century, actually,” Naboo says, “but yeah, something like that…”
Howard rests his cheek on Naboo’s smooth, fragrant hair. “Anything I can do?”
“You’re doin’ it.”
“Stay there for a bit, then, and I’ll carry on doing it. Least I can do.”
“ ’S’nice, Howard. Thank you.”
Presently, Naboo begins to snore quietly. Howard keeps his eyes closed and slips into a peacock-blue dream that is perfumed with spices and bright with hope, as the rain whispers softly against the window, promising rainbows.
Summary: Naboo drinks the potion
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Howard falls asleep on the sofa
Length: about 1150 words
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I just borrow them to play with now and again (and again and again and again). For twisted love, not for profit
Notes: the Blatant Plot Device is still going strong and the scenario it’s generated is improbable in the extreme, but I hope it’s also cute enough that you’ll forgive me! (I really, really want someone to draw the closing scene for me…)
Enigma Variations
2 Kind of Blue
“You’ll have to shut your eyes,” Naboo says sternly.“I’m not doin’ eye contact, I don’t want you looking into my soul. Nuffink personal, you know? I just don’t need to go there at the moment. And neither do you.”
He unstoppers the bottle, releasing a puff of brownish vapour and an acrid smell. “Eeeuww.” He wrinkles his nose. “No wonder it’s not good for goldfish.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Howard says.
“Yeah, I do. Where’m I going to get another employee like Vince? They’d have to be willin’ to share a room with you, for a start. This may be a long shot, but that’d be even longer. So shut up.”
He has a point. Howard shuts up.
Naboo takes a deep breath, and gulps the potion down in one. He shudders, retches, and swallows hard.
“You OK, Naboo?”
“Don’t ask. Just shut your eyes,” the shaman grits through clenched teeth.
Howard obeys, and the world turns to the dull brown of the inside of his eyelids.
He can hear the rain beating on the window, and Naboo’s rapid, shallow breathing.
He wonders what Vince is doing right now.
And whether Naboo’s going to throw up.
“Peppermint,” Naboo says, after a while.
“You what?”
“Tastes of peppermint now, instead of like Vince’s cooking. I think it’s ready to transmit.”
“So, erm, how do you do that? Do you sneeze on me, or wave a wand, or what?”
“Simple connection should do it. Touch. Layin’ on of hands, that sort of thing.”
“OK, that doesn’t sound too difficult. Go ahead.” Howard’s heart is pounding. But he’s gone too far now to turn back.
Naboo lays a hand on his arm. “Anything?”
“What should happen?”
“Hmmm. Maybe we need skin contact.” Naboo slides his hand down to Howard’s wrist. His fingers are cold, and the touch is slightly hesitant, as though he expects to be rejected. “Anything now?”
Howard shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry.”
“You should be seeing a colour.” The cold fingers thread themselves through Howard’s.
“What colour?” Howard curls his own fingers around Naboo’s, and holds on.
“You’d know if you were seein’ it. I don’t know what’s gone wrong. It may still be incompatible, or you don’t have enough memory to run complex magic. Or maybe the stuff was just out of date.”
“Well, never mind.” Howard bites back the desperate disappointment clutching at the back of his throat. “Thanks for trying, anyway. I guess I’ll just have to - to talk to him…”
“There is one more thing we could try. We may have got the wrong sort of connection, I’m not an expert on human systems… What are you prepared to do, to get him back?”
“Anything. I’m doing this, aren’t I?”
“All right. Let’s try kissing.”
The shaman’s voice is still perfectly level. Howard lets go of his hand as though it’s burnt him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah, I never thought I’d ever hear me say that to you either. Good thing Bollo’s out shoppin’. Let’s just - get on with it. And keep your eyes shut.”
Howard screws his eyes up even tighter. “Right. Kiss me.”
“Nice chat-up technique,” Naboo says, giggling suddenly. “Nearly as good as mine. You comin’ on to me, Howard Moon?”
“Stop enjoying my discomfiture, sir.” Howard reaches out cautiously, his hand flinching back as it touches Naboo’s silky hair. “This is a purely professional arrangement.”
“Whatever you say.” Naboo is still shaking with laughter.
“Are you high?” Howard asks, severely.
“Yeah. Just a bit.”
Naboo leans in and presses his lips briefly to Howard’s.
“Anythin’?”
“No, nothing. Just - brown. Never mind, at least we tr-”
The small hands gripping the back of Howard’s head are surprisingly strong; the shaman’s mouth is cool. He tastes of peppermint.
“How about now?”
“Still nothing.”
“I’m sorry.” Naboo releases his hold. “No hard feelings, eh?” He butterflies a fingertip across Howard’s cheek.
A flash of peacock-blue flits across the dingy brown landscape inside Howard’s eyelids, like the flutter of a tiny wing.
“Could we… could we try that again?”
“Third time lucky?” Naboo’s voice is thoughtful. “Could be. Honestly, why these potion designers have to make them so complicated… OK, why not, we’ve got this far an’ it’s been…”
He takes a deep breath, and takes Howard’s face between his hands.
“Nice,” he says, sounding faintly surprised. “Yeah. It’s been nice.”
This time the kiss is deep and languid and very nice indeed, although Howard is relieved to find that it’s not turning him on.
And this time there is no mistaking the brilliant, glowing blue that is spreading itself across his whole field of not-vision.
He feels a rush of gratitude, and returns the kiss; reaches up to run his fingers through Naboo’s hair, caressing him behind his ears, breathing in his scent of exotic spices and illicit substances.
“You’ve got it now,” Naboo says, as they break apart. “Peacock blue, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad we made it work.”
There is an odd note of regret in Naboo’s voice. Howard slips an arm around his shoulders. “You OK?”
“Guess so. Magic always takes it out of me a bit.”
Somehow, Howard knows that he’s not telling the whole truth. In the same way that he knew that Naboo would be sensitive behind his ears; and that the little alien is, for all his apparent self-sufficiency, as crushingly lonely as Howard is himself.
He lifts Naboo’s chin, and kisses him again, very gently.
“What was that for?”
“Kindness,” Howard says. “People aren’t kind to you very often, are they?”
Naboo shrugs. “Guess not.” Then he tenses. “How d’you know? Shit, this stuff’s stronger than I thought, we’re getting psychic leakage. Should never have bought that cut-price foil turban liner from Tony bloody Harrison, they never work…”
He struggles to pull away, but Howard holds him firm. “No, I don’t think it’s… I mean, I think I’d have known anyway. Just from… how you are. You haven’t…”
“No, I haven’t. Not much. Bit like you, eh?” Naboo relaxes into the curve of Howard’s shoulder, and heaves a deep sigh, with a little catch in it. Then he shakes his head. “Sorry. Don’t mind me.”
Howard is suddenly reminded of his mother, who used to sigh like that, and of what his dad used to say to her, half-joking, when she did… back in the days when they were still speaking to each other…
“Bad time of the… century?”
“Half-century, actually,” Naboo says, “but yeah, something like that…”
Howard rests his cheek on Naboo’s smooth, fragrant hair. “Anything I can do?”
“You’re doin’ it.”
“Stay there for a bit, then, and I’ll carry on doing it. Least I can do.”
“ ’S’nice, Howard. Thank you.”
Presently, Naboo begins to snore quietly. Howard keeps his eyes closed and slips into a peacock-blue dream that is perfumed with spices and bright with hope, as the rain whispers softly against the window, promising rainbows.