New ATWT Fic: The Restaurant At The End of The Universe, 1/1
The Restaurant At The End of The Universe
by Suz
Disclaimer - CBS own them, I don't, no infringement intended.
Lure fic! I managed to write two of these today :D :D :D Contains spumours for the end of ATWT. If you don't want to be spoiled for the end of the Luke/Reid storyline, don't read. Rated G. Humour. Crack fic! Cracky crack crack! :D Title gratuitously stolen from Douglas Adams.
Feedback would be marvellous. Extra special thanks to my lovely d and the wonderful nel!
*
As it turned out, heaven was a diner.
At least, Reid presumed it was heaven. Given the countless lives he'd saved, the fact that he'd never killed anyone and that he'd never tried to kill himself...if certain religions were to be believed, he should be in heaven right now.
Truthfully, it looked a lot like heaven to Reid. The diner smelt - quite frankly - fantastic and Reid's metaphysical stomach ached to taste whatever smelt so damn good. Despite what many people seemed to think - you made one comment about having high standards, and you were ridiculed for life - Reid wasn't a snob when it came to food. In fact, he far preferred diner food to fancy food, which arrived on plates much too big for servings much too small.
The customers all seemed disturbingly happy; bright, endless smiles on their faces, laughing without care or concern. The real clincher, though, was when he saw Morgan Freeman sipping a cup of coffee at the counter.
Before he even realised he was moving, Reid was standing next to him. "Don't tell me you're actually God."
"You mean this form?" Morgan Freeman asked, not seeming at all surprised - which Reid presumed made sense, if he was actually God. Though he had doubts about that idea in general. "You don't believe in God, Reid," Morgan Freeman pointed out, "and you certainly don't believe in that old notion that I'm a friendly old man with a big beard. Your mind has simply supplied you with something you can comprehend, something familiar to you. That includes these surroundings - everyone's heaven looks different to them. Please," he said, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.
God or not, Reid needed to get the hell out of here, and he at least seemed like he knew what was going on. That didn't stop Reid from muttering as he sat down. "I didn't even like that movie..."
Morgan Freeman, God, whoever the hell he was, just smiled at him. "You do know how pointless it is lying to me, don't you?"
Pausing, Reid decided that was a valuable lesson and immediately moved on. "Now, don't get me wrong," he started, "I appreciate the fact that I'm here instead of the alternative."
"Hell's really not so bad," God offered, taking a gulp of coffee. "It's a lot like Oakdale."
That said more than Reid ever could on the subject. "And quite frankly," Reid continued, "given all I've done for the world, it's only fitting that I end up here." God didn't look in the least bit impressed - who, well, might have actually created the universe and everything in it, so it'd be only natural that it'd take a lot to impress him - so Reid quickly pressed on. "But I need to go back."
God shrugged. "You're dead."
"I don't care," he replied. "Let's say this is all real, okay? That you're actually God and this is all your creation."
God sighed sadly. "The human view of religion is so small-minded. I knew I shouldn't have given you free will."
Reid ignored him. "Given everything you're capable of, I can't believe for a second that it's beyond your purview. There must be some loophole, somewhere, that would allow you to send me back."
"Of course I can," God didn't sound offended. "I could send you back with barely a thought. But the important question," he turned his head, meeting Reid's gaze squarely, "is why would I?"
"I'm in love," Reid said bluntly. "And I'm not leaving him."
"Pure of heart, at least," God conceded, studying him intently. "You will like it here."
Reid's stomach was still gurgling at the magnificent smell in the air. "I don't care."
"You'll eat the greatest food in existence for the rest of eternity."
Reid licked his lips. Tempting, but... "I don't care."
"After a while, you'll forget all about him."
The horror at that thought was worse than anything he'd ever experienced - and that included being shot. "I don't care," he insisted. "I want him, okay? I don't care if it's a messy, dirty, imperfect life, because it'll be messy, dirty and imperfect with him. He's worth anything. Even going up against you." It was, in retrospect, quite possibly the most ludicrous thing he'd ever said - Luke would give him endless crap about it if he ever found out - but it needed saying, just the same.
God pursed his lips together, then apparently came to a decision. "Well, I think you have the spirit for it - no pun intended. Unfortunately, it's not up to me."
That made no sense at all. "But you're God."
"And you'd think that'd mean I can do whatever I want at anytime, right?" God sighed. "Not the way it works. Michael's constantly on my back about the union, there's endless red tape involved - you should see the size of my filing cabinet!"
Reid just stared at him. If God said anything about how 'being God is not all it's cracked up to be', Reid just might have to punch him on the nose. "So what, exactly, am I required to do?"
"You have to challenge Death."
Wonderful. Perfect. Of course he had to challenge Death to something that was no doubt ridiculous. At least it ensured his day was continuing in the same outlandish vein - heaven forbid his death be any more normal than his life had been since meeting Luke. "All right. Death it is." He looked around. "Where is Death?"
God turned around himself, nodding towards someone. "Over there."
Following God's gaze, Reid frowned at the woman sitting in the booth and took in her appearance for a few moments. "The one that looks like Martha Stewart?"
"That's her," God agreed. "I'll still be the one who sends you back - but only if you manage to get by her. It was a contract negotiation thing," he explained sympathetically. "Death drives a hard bargain, let me tell you."
"I'm sure," Reid muttered, even as he began to stand up, adjusting the collar of his suit. He was somewhat proud of his psyche for dressing him so nicely in the afterlife. "Has anyone ever beaten Death?"
"From time to time," God replied, which was better than Reid had been expecting. "But believe me when I tell you that she won't make it easy."
Of course not. Reid hadn't expected anything else.
Standing tall, Reid strode confidently over to the booth. "I've been reliably informed that you're Death." As openers went, it was definitely the strangest one Reid had ever delivered.
Death smiled gregariously up at him, indicating the other side of the booth. "And you're Dr Reid Oliver. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Reid sat down awkwardly. "Uh...you too." On one hand, angering Death just seemed like a bad idea. On the other, these useless pleasantries were driving him insane when all he wanted to do was get back to Luke.
Flicking through a magazine about embroidery, Death continued to smile at him. "You've snatched more than a few souls from me, Dr Oliver. I'm extremely intrigued at the prospect of this challenge."
He really wasn't sure if he should be flattered or terrified. He definitely felt a little of both. "What is the challenge, exactly?" If he'd had any brains at all - and there was an irony - he would've interrogated God about it before he even came over here. But given that he'd even just had to think that sentence at all, he couldn't be too hard on himself.
Death smiled some more - it seemed she never really stopped at all - and between one moment and the next the magazine vanished only to be replaced by something else entirely.
A chess board.
Reid's smile rivalled Death's own.
*
Sitting up with a gasp, Reid dislodged Luke, who - from the state of him - had clearly been crying his eyes out on Reid's chest. It was certainly touching, but given that the blood from Reid's gunshot wound was now smeared across Luke's snotty, tear-ridden face - it was also totally gross.
"Reid?!" Luke gasped, lunging back to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Reid's body. "I d-don't understand!" he stammered, before pulling back again to grasp Reid's face in his hands. "You were dead! You were gone! They said..." Lunging forward again, he planted a strong kiss against Reid's lips, and Reid decided Luke's bloody, snotty, tear-ridden face wasn't so bad after all. Pulling away once more, he started patting at Reid's body. "How are you? Are you okay? Of course you're not okay, you've been shot, what a stupid..." Pausing, he groped around at Reid's chest some more. Reid really didn't mind. It did start to concern him when Luke then started groping with both hands, more and more frantically. "But...it's gone!" he announced dramatically. "You were shot this morning and the blood is still there but...there's no sign of the wound!"
Grasping Luke's wrists, Reid tugged him closer. "The important thing," Reid said calmly, "is that I'm here, I'm staying, and I love you." Luke practically wilted at the knees. "Oh, and I'm awesome." Reid knew he could never tell anyone what'd happened - they'd probably never believe him, despite the miraculous recovery - but he certainly felt the right to gloat for a while.
Luke was just moving in for another delighted kiss when the door burst open and Katie stumbled inside.
"Reid!" She stared at him in shock, before rushing to the other side of the bed for a hug. Reid decided to allow it. "I can't believe it! You and Chris."
"What about Chris?" Luke asked, still groping Reid's chest.
"All his symptoms have vanished," Katie explained excitedly. "No pain, no dizziness, no difficulty breathing - there seems to be nothing wrong with him at all! They're running tests to see, of course, but it looks like he's perfectly healthy!"
As Luke congratulated her, his hand moving to rest over Reid's smoothly thumping heart, Reid himself relaxed back against the bed and sighed the sigh of a man extremely pleased with himself.
Death had not been happy about losing to a mere mortal.
So they'd gone double or nothing.
~FINIS
by Suz
Disclaimer - CBS own them, I don't, no infringement intended.
Lure fic! I managed to write two of these today :D :D :D Contains spumours for the end of ATWT. If you don't want to be spoiled for the end of the Luke/Reid storyline, don't read. Rated G. Humour. Crack fic! Cracky crack crack! :D Title gratuitously stolen from Douglas Adams.
Feedback would be marvellous. Extra special thanks to my lovely d and the wonderful nel!
*
As it turned out, heaven was a diner.
At least, Reid presumed it was heaven. Given the countless lives he'd saved, the fact that he'd never killed anyone and that he'd never tried to kill himself...if certain religions were to be believed, he should be in heaven right now.
Truthfully, it looked a lot like heaven to Reid. The diner smelt - quite frankly - fantastic and Reid's metaphysical stomach ached to taste whatever smelt so damn good. Despite what many people seemed to think - you made one comment about having high standards, and you were ridiculed for life - Reid wasn't a snob when it came to food. In fact, he far preferred diner food to fancy food, which arrived on plates much too big for servings much too small.
The customers all seemed disturbingly happy; bright, endless smiles on their faces, laughing without care or concern. The real clincher, though, was when he saw Morgan Freeman sipping a cup of coffee at the counter.
Before he even realised he was moving, Reid was standing next to him. "Don't tell me you're actually God."
"You mean this form?" Morgan Freeman asked, not seeming at all surprised - which Reid presumed made sense, if he was actually God. Though he had doubts about that idea in general. "You don't believe in God, Reid," Morgan Freeman pointed out, "and you certainly don't believe in that old notion that I'm a friendly old man with a big beard. Your mind has simply supplied you with something you can comprehend, something familiar to you. That includes these surroundings - everyone's heaven looks different to them. Please," he said, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.
God or not, Reid needed to get the hell out of here, and he at least seemed like he knew what was going on. That didn't stop Reid from muttering as he sat down. "I didn't even like that movie..."
Morgan Freeman, God, whoever the hell he was, just smiled at him. "You do know how pointless it is lying to me, don't you?"
Pausing, Reid decided that was a valuable lesson and immediately moved on. "Now, don't get me wrong," he started, "I appreciate the fact that I'm here instead of the alternative."
"Hell's really not so bad," God offered, taking a gulp of coffee. "It's a lot like Oakdale."
That said more than Reid ever could on the subject. "And quite frankly," Reid continued, "given all I've done for the world, it's only fitting that I end up here." God didn't look in the least bit impressed - who, well, might have actually created the universe and everything in it, so it'd be only natural that it'd take a lot to impress him - so Reid quickly pressed on. "But I need to go back."
God shrugged. "You're dead."
"I don't care," he replied. "Let's say this is all real, okay? That you're actually God and this is all your creation."
God sighed sadly. "The human view of religion is so small-minded. I knew I shouldn't have given you free will."
Reid ignored him. "Given everything you're capable of, I can't believe for a second that it's beyond your purview. There must be some loophole, somewhere, that would allow you to send me back."
"Of course I can," God didn't sound offended. "I could send you back with barely a thought. But the important question," he turned his head, meeting Reid's gaze squarely, "is why would I?"
"I'm in love," Reid said bluntly. "And I'm not leaving him."
"Pure of heart, at least," God conceded, studying him intently. "You will like it here."
Reid's stomach was still gurgling at the magnificent smell in the air. "I don't care."
"You'll eat the greatest food in existence for the rest of eternity."
Reid licked his lips. Tempting, but... "I don't care."
"After a while, you'll forget all about him."
The horror at that thought was worse than anything he'd ever experienced - and that included being shot. "I don't care," he insisted. "I want him, okay? I don't care if it's a messy, dirty, imperfect life, because it'll be messy, dirty and imperfect with him. He's worth anything. Even going up against you." It was, in retrospect, quite possibly the most ludicrous thing he'd ever said - Luke would give him endless crap about it if he ever found out - but it needed saying, just the same.
God pursed his lips together, then apparently came to a decision. "Well, I think you have the spirit for it - no pun intended. Unfortunately, it's not up to me."
That made no sense at all. "But you're God."
"And you'd think that'd mean I can do whatever I want at anytime, right?" God sighed. "Not the way it works. Michael's constantly on my back about the union, there's endless red tape involved - you should see the size of my filing cabinet!"
Reid just stared at him. If God said anything about how 'being God is not all it's cracked up to be', Reid just might have to punch him on the nose. "So what, exactly, am I required to do?"
"You have to challenge Death."
Wonderful. Perfect. Of course he had to challenge Death to something that was no doubt ridiculous. At least it ensured his day was continuing in the same outlandish vein - heaven forbid his death be any more normal than his life had been since meeting Luke. "All right. Death it is." He looked around. "Where is Death?"
God turned around himself, nodding towards someone. "Over there."
Following God's gaze, Reid frowned at the woman sitting in the booth and took in her appearance for a few moments. "The one that looks like Martha Stewart?"
"That's her," God agreed. "I'll still be the one who sends you back - but only if you manage to get by her. It was a contract negotiation thing," he explained sympathetically. "Death drives a hard bargain, let me tell you."
"I'm sure," Reid muttered, even as he began to stand up, adjusting the collar of his suit. He was somewhat proud of his psyche for dressing him so nicely in the afterlife. "Has anyone ever beaten Death?"
"From time to time," God replied, which was better than Reid had been expecting. "But believe me when I tell you that she won't make it easy."
Of course not. Reid hadn't expected anything else.
Standing tall, Reid strode confidently over to the booth. "I've been reliably informed that you're Death." As openers went, it was definitely the strangest one Reid had ever delivered.
Death smiled gregariously up at him, indicating the other side of the booth. "And you're Dr Reid Oliver. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Reid sat down awkwardly. "Uh...you too." On one hand, angering Death just seemed like a bad idea. On the other, these useless pleasantries were driving him insane when all he wanted to do was get back to Luke.
Flicking through a magazine about embroidery, Death continued to smile at him. "You've snatched more than a few souls from me, Dr Oliver. I'm extremely intrigued at the prospect of this challenge."
He really wasn't sure if he should be flattered or terrified. He definitely felt a little of both. "What is the challenge, exactly?" If he'd had any brains at all - and there was an irony - he would've interrogated God about it before he even came over here. But given that he'd even just had to think that sentence at all, he couldn't be too hard on himself.
Death smiled some more - it seemed she never really stopped at all - and between one moment and the next the magazine vanished only to be replaced by something else entirely.
A chess board.
Reid's smile rivalled Death's own.
*
Sitting up with a gasp, Reid dislodged Luke, who - from the state of him - had clearly been crying his eyes out on Reid's chest. It was certainly touching, but given that the blood from Reid's gunshot wound was now smeared across Luke's snotty, tear-ridden face - it was also totally gross.
"Reid?!" Luke gasped, lunging back to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Reid's body. "I d-don't understand!" he stammered, before pulling back again to grasp Reid's face in his hands. "You were dead! You were gone! They said..." Lunging forward again, he planted a strong kiss against Reid's lips, and Reid decided Luke's bloody, snotty, tear-ridden face wasn't so bad after all. Pulling away once more, he started patting at Reid's body. "How are you? Are you okay? Of course you're not okay, you've been shot, what a stupid..." Pausing, he groped around at Reid's chest some more. Reid really didn't mind. It did start to concern him when Luke then started groping with both hands, more and more frantically. "But...it's gone!" he announced dramatically. "You were shot this morning and the blood is still there but...there's no sign of the wound!"
Grasping Luke's wrists, Reid tugged him closer. "The important thing," Reid said calmly, "is that I'm here, I'm staying, and I love you." Luke practically wilted at the knees. "Oh, and I'm awesome." Reid knew he could never tell anyone what'd happened - they'd probably never believe him, despite the miraculous recovery - but he certainly felt the right to gloat for a while.
Luke was just moving in for another delighted kiss when the door burst open and Katie stumbled inside.
"Reid!" She stared at him in shock, before rushing to the other side of the bed for a hug. Reid decided to allow it. "I can't believe it! You and Chris."
"What about Chris?" Luke asked, still groping Reid's chest.
"All his symptoms have vanished," Katie explained excitedly. "No pain, no dizziness, no difficulty breathing - there seems to be nothing wrong with him at all! They're running tests to see, of course, but it looks like he's perfectly healthy!"
As Luke congratulated her, his hand moving to rest over Reid's smoothly thumping heart, Reid himself relaxed back against the bed and sighed the sigh of a man extremely pleased with himself.
Death had not been happy about losing to a mere mortal.
So they'd gone double or nothing.
~FINIS