I Know This Story (3/3)
Title: I Know This Story (3/3)
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Sylar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He was no zoologist, but he knew for a fact that frogs should not be able to speak. Word Count: 1,486
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or The Princess and the Frog.
Warnings: Humor, Language, Slash, AU
Part 1 - Part of Your World| Part 2 - A Whole New World
Mohinder had to admit that when he heard the frog speak instead of croak he let out a screech that could be described as anything but manly and probably jumped a good foot into the air. He stumbled -- scrambled -- backwards, attempting to put as much space between himself and this bizarre creature only to end up crashing into Claire's bookcase. His head collided with the wooden structure, causing all the little girlish knick-knacks that had once been collecting dust on their respective shelves to come crashing down on top of him.
The world went black for a split second and suddenly Mohinder found himself kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a pile of toys and children's books. His head snapped up when he heard a strange voice calling to him. Well, he assumed the voice was calling to him, but it was chanting "Prince, Prince" and that didn't seem right. Yet as soon as that thought popped into his head, Mohinder found himself reaching up to touch the crown nestled on top of his dark curls. Oh.
The frog hopped down from the railing and onto the balcony, an apologetic look on its green features, and that wasn't right because frogs shouldn't be able to look apologetic. "I'm sorry Prince," the frog said with all the sincerity of someone who had never had to apologize for anything before in his life.
Dear God! It spoke again!
Mohinder screamed, grabbing the first thing his finger touched -- a stuff bear, no surprise there -- and hurled it with all his might at the creature. He was no zoologist, but he knew for a fact that frogs should not be able to speak and he sincerely didn't care if he was doing the scientific world a disservice by trying to kill the first known talking frog, because this was all just too much.
The frog ducked the bear, but his brown eyes stayed trained on Mohinder, so he picked up another item -- a hair brush -- and threw it.
"Wait a minute!" the frog said, ducking the brush. "I can explain." A shoe this time. "You know you have a very strong arm."
The stuffed monkey he threw hit the frog square in the face, shutting him up just long enough for Mohinder to get to his feet, clutching a thick book to his chest for protection. The little bastard didn't stay down long, however, as it hopped onto Claire's bureau, and proceeded to stand -- wobbling and struggling to keep itself erect -- on its hind legs. "Allow me to introduce myself," the frog began, and Mohinder felt as if he were going to be sick. "I am Prince Gabriel Gray-"
Mohinder didn't let the creature finish his introduction. He took the book in his hands and smashed it down on the frog, hoping against hope that it would just die and stay dead.
It didn't. Instead he heard the frog's strained voice croak out "... from Maldonia" with its last ounce of strength.
"Wait a minute," he began, slowly peeling the book off of the frog's crushed form. "Prince?"
His mind was whirling as he thought back to just a few minutes ago. He remembered a tall, handsome figure with strong features and ghostly white skin dressed in silver and ebony, a crimson cape fluttering behind him and a silver crown adorning his slick black hair. That was Prince Gabriel Gray from Maldonia! He was downstairs right now being charming and regal and sweeping Claire Bennet off her dainty little feet.
"If... if you're Prince Gabriel," he began, clutching the book to his chest once again as the frog barely managed to pull itself back together, "then who the hell is that dancing with Claire?"
"I don't know," the frog, "Gabriel", sighed; glaring up at him from underneath two incredibly thick eyebrows. (Were frogs supposed to have eyebrows? Were frogs supposed to have hair?) "All I know is that just a few hours ago, I was human -- tall, dark and broody -- then, the next thing I know, I'm a slimy little frog!"
"Well, that's not really slime," Mohinder corrected. "It's mucus."
"Should I care?" Froggy Gabriel snapped; an impatient look on his little green face.
Mohinder sighed, trying to get a good hold on the situation. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. Yes. The frog had croaked and it had startled him, so when he bumped his head on the bookshelf he had actually passed on. Yeah, that made sense. That made perfect sense.
"Wait,” the frog said, interrupting his train of thought. There was hope and excitement in his voice as he stared at the leather bound text in Mohinder’s hand. “Let me see that book."
The Indian frowned, glancing down at the book in his hands, finally realizing that he was holding a copy of The Frog Prince. How ironic. He placed the novel down beside Froggy Gabriel and the little creature's eyes lit up as he flipped the book open and began turning the pages. "Yes, this is it! This is the answer."
Mohinder leaned forward, inspecting what had gotten the amphibian so excited. His frown deepened when he saw that it was staring at an illustration of a princess kissing a frog. Froggy Gabriel then flipped to the next page, revealing a vibrant illustration of the frog in the story transforming into a human prince.
"You have to kiss me," the frog announced and Mohinder had to admit that he saw a twinkle in those deep brown eyes.
"What?" he shrieked, flinching away from the animal. "That's ridiculous!"
"In the story, a kiss from a princess broke the spell," Froggy Gabriel pointed out. "Obviously, I’m under some sort of curse so maybe if you kiss me-"
"I am not a princess!" he barked, the sheer volume of his voice causing the amphibian to stumble and loose its balance.
"You might be close enough," the frog said dryly.
Mohinder was about to give another indignant cry when he looked down at the sparkling blue costume he was wearing. The suit. The cape. The crown! The frog thought he was a prince. This dream was starting to make a little bit more sense. "Well I doubt there's any scientific evidence to prove that," Mohinder snipped. "And even if there was... Well, I do not kiss frogs."
"Even if it were to turn me human again?" the frog pressed. Mohinder merely frowned, squaring his jaw and crossing his arms over his flat chest. Froggy Gabriel scowled. Obviously this little creature was not used to being turned down, let alone having to ask more than once to get what he wanted, yet he showed no sign of backing down. "You know, my family is incredibly powerful. And rich. If you help me, maybe I can give you something in return."
Mohinder's heart leaped into his throat at the amphibian’s statement. His mind instantly went to his book -- his father's book -- the one the publication company had just turned down. Maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe this really was Prince Gabriel. And if that were the case, then surely the word of a prince would be more than enough to get his father's theories published.
What am I thinking? This is mad! This isn't happening, it's a dream!
Yet even as he thought all this, even as the doubt still swirled in his head, his heart clung to the fleeting hope that the dream he had shared with his father wasn't dead just yet. "Alright," he began, taking a long breath. "I kiss you and then you help me get my father's book published."
"Done," the frog swore, crossing his heart for emphasis. "Once I'm human again, I'll make sure it happens. Now kiss me."
The creature closed his eyes and puckered his lips and Mohinder felt his skin crawl. He gagged, turning away. Oh God! Oh God! I can't do this! ... But I have to... for Father. He allowed himself a long shudder before scooping up the frog in his hands, thankful that this costume came with gloves. "Just… one kiss, right?" he asked, watching as the frog licked its green lips. The little bastard looked far too happy to humiliate him like this!
"Just one," he agreed, reaching out with his tiny hands to hold Mohinder’s gloved thumb, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "unless you want more."
"Don't get cocky," he snapped tersely. "And stop smiling!"
The Froggy Gabriel allowed himself one last smirk before closing his eyes and puckering up his lips once more. Mohinder swore that if this didn't work he was going to kick the bastard's little ass. He took a deep breath, held it, and then bent forward, allowing his soft brown lips to meet wet green ones. His vision was consumed by white and when he came to, everything was wrong.
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Sylar
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He was no zoologist, but he knew for a fact that frogs should not be able to speak. Word Count: 1,486
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or The Princess and the Frog.
Warnings: Humor, Language, Slash, AU
Part 1 - Part of Your World| Part 2 - A Whole New World
Mohinder had to admit that when he heard the frog speak instead of croak he let out a screech that could be described as anything but manly and probably jumped a good foot into the air. He stumbled -- scrambled -- backwards, attempting to put as much space between himself and this bizarre creature only to end up crashing into Claire's bookcase. His head collided with the wooden structure, causing all the little girlish knick-knacks that had once been collecting dust on their respective shelves to come crashing down on top of him.
The world went black for a split second and suddenly Mohinder found himself kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a pile of toys and children's books. His head snapped up when he heard a strange voice calling to him. Well, he assumed the voice was calling to him, but it was chanting "Prince, Prince" and that didn't seem right. Yet as soon as that thought popped into his head, Mohinder found himself reaching up to touch the crown nestled on top of his dark curls. Oh.
The frog hopped down from the railing and onto the balcony, an apologetic look on its green features, and that wasn't right because frogs shouldn't be able to look apologetic. "I'm sorry Prince," the frog said with all the sincerity of someone who had never had to apologize for anything before in his life.
Dear God! It spoke again!
Mohinder screamed, grabbing the first thing his finger touched -- a stuff bear, no surprise there -- and hurled it with all his might at the creature. He was no zoologist, but he knew for a fact that frogs should not be able to speak and he sincerely didn't care if he was doing the scientific world a disservice by trying to kill the first known talking frog, because this was all just too much.
The frog ducked the bear, but his brown eyes stayed trained on Mohinder, so he picked up another item -- a hair brush -- and threw it.
"Wait a minute!" the frog said, ducking the brush. "I can explain." A shoe this time. "You know you have a very strong arm."
The stuffed monkey he threw hit the frog square in the face, shutting him up just long enough for Mohinder to get to his feet, clutching a thick book to his chest for protection. The little bastard didn't stay down long, however, as it hopped onto Claire's bureau, and proceeded to stand -- wobbling and struggling to keep itself erect -- on its hind legs. "Allow me to introduce myself," the frog began, and Mohinder felt as if he were going to be sick. "I am Prince Gabriel Gray-"
Mohinder didn't let the creature finish his introduction. He took the book in his hands and smashed it down on the frog, hoping against hope that it would just die and stay dead.
It didn't. Instead he heard the frog's strained voice croak out "... from Maldonia" with its last ounce of strength.
"Wait a minute," he began, slowly peeling the book off of the frog's crushed form. "Prince?"
His mind was whirling as he thought back to just a few minutes ago. He remembered a tall, handsome figure with strong features and ghostly white skin dressed in silver and ebony, a crimson cape fluttering behind him and a silver crown adorning his slick black hair. That was Prince Gabriel Gray from Maldonia! He was downstairs right now being charming and regal and sweeping Claire Bennet off her dainty little feet.
"If... if you're Prince Gabriel," he began, clutching the book to his chest once again as the frog barely managed to pull itself back together, "then who the hell is that dancing with Claire?"
"I don't know," the frog, "Gabriel", sighed; glaring up at him from underneath two incredibly thick eyebrows. (Were frogs supposed to have eyebrows? Were frogs supposed to have hair?) "All I know is that just a few hours ago, I was human -- tall, dark and broody -- then, the next thing I know, I'm a slimy little frog!"
"Well, that's not really slime," Mohinder corrected. "It's mucus."
"Should I care?" Froggy Gabriel snapped; an impatient look on his little green face.
Mohinder sighed, trying to get a good hold on the situation. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. Yes. The frog had croaked and it had startled him, so when he bumped his head on the bookshelf he had actually passed on. Yeah, that made sense. That made perfect sense.
"Wait,” the frog said, interrupting his train of thought. There was hope and excitement in his voice as he stared at the leather bound text in Mohinder’s hand. “Let me see that book."
The Indian frowned, glancing down at the book in his hands, finally realizing that he was holding a copy of The Frog Prince. How ironic. He placed the novel down beside Froggy Gabriel and the little creature's eyes lit up as he flipped the book open and began turning the pages. "Yes, this is it! This is the answer."
Mohinder leaned forward, inspecting what had gotten the amphibian so excited. His frown deepened when he saw that it was staring at an illustration of a princess kissing a frog. Froggy Gabriel then flipped to the next page, revealing a vibrant illustration of the frog in the story transforming into a human prince.
"You have to kiss me," the frog announced and Mohinder had to admit that he saw a twinkle in those deep brown eyes.
"What?" he shrieked, flinching away from the animal. "That's ridiculous!"
"In the story, a kiss from a princess broke the spell," Froggy Gabriel pointed out. "Obviously, I’m under some sort of curse so maybe if you kiss me-"
"I am not a princess!" he barked, the sheer volume of his voice causing the amphibian to stumble and loose its balance.
"You might be close enough," the frog said dryly.
Mohinder was about to give another indignant cry when he looked down at the sparkling blue costume he was wearing. The suit. The cape. The crown! The frog thought he was a prince. This dream was starting to make a little bit more sense. "Well I doubt there's any scientific evidence to prove that," Mohinder snipped. "And even if there was... Well, I do not kiss frogs."
"Even if it were to turn me human again?" the frog pressed. Mohinder merely frowned, squaring his jaw and crossing his arms over his flat chest. Froggy Gabriel scowled. Obviously this little creature was not used to being turned down, let alone having to ask more than once to get what he wanted, yet he showed no sign of backing down. "You know, my family is incredibly powerful. And rich. If you help me, maybe I can give you something in return."
Mohinder's heart leaped into his throat at the amphibian’s statement. His mind instantly went to his book -- his father's book -- the one the publication company had just turned down. Maybe this wasn't a dream. Maybe this really was Prince Gabriel. And if that were the case, then surely the word of a prince would be more than enough to get his father's theories published.
What am I thinking? This is mad! This isn't happening, it's a dream!
Yet even as he thought all this, even as the doubt still swirled in his head, his heart clung to the fleeting hope that the dream he had shared with his father wasn't dead just yet. "Alright," he began, taking a long breath. "I kiss you and then you help me get my father's book published."
"Done," the frog swore, crossing his heart for emphasis. "Once I'm human again, I'll make sure it happens. Now kiss me."
The creature closed his eyes and puckered his lips and Mohinder felt his skin crawl. He gagged, turning away. Oh God! Oh God! I can't do this! ... But I have to... for Father. He allowed himself a long shudder before scooping up the frog in his hands, thankful that this costume came with gloves. "Just… one kiss, right?" he asked, watching as the frog licked its green lips. The little bastard looked far too happy to humiliate him like this!
"Just one," he agreed, reaching out with his tiny hands to hold Mohinder’s gloved thumb, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "unless you want more."
"Don't get cocky," he snapped tersely. "And stop smiling!"
The Froggy Gabriel allowed himself one last smirk before closing his eyes and puckering up his lips once more. Mohinder swore that if this didn't work he was going to kick the bastard's little ass. He took a deep breath, held it, and then bent forward, allowing his soft brown lips to meet wet green ones. His vision was consumed by white and when he came to, everything was wrong.
