Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2010-06-29 08:10 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2010-06-29 08:10 pm
Fake News: Five Other Correspondents Jon (Thought He) Seduced
Title: Five Other Correspondents Jon (Thought He) Seduced
Rating: PG-13
Characters/pairings: Jon/everybody - specifically, "Stephen", Sam+Jason, John Hodgman, Aasif (offscreen), and Olivia
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
The long-awaited companion to The Grey Wolf Is On The Prowl, as suggested byholly_cullen and girlanachronism. Jon considers himself a master of seduction. Most of his staff are just too nice to burst his bubble.
Olivia's scene is inspired largely by this interview.
Five Other Correspondents Jon (Thought He) Seduced
(1) Stephen
Stephen's accusing stare has been on the back of Jon's neck almost constantly since walking onto the stage that first night. It isn't any better here at home, the other man glaring dully at him from the other end of the couch while a plate of untouched biscotti cools on the coffee table.
Still, Jon has confidence. He has a script, and it never fails.
"I know we have our differences, but I hope you'll stay around," he says, putting a hand on Stephen's knee. "I'm not looking for a crew of yes-men. Besides, healthy disagreement makes life more...exciting. Don't you agree?"
Twin spots of pink rise in Stephen's cheeks. "I — I know where this is going," he stammers. "Cut to the chase, Stewart."
It takes Jon a second to figure out that a couple of pages have just been torn up. But, hey, might as well not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Stephen yields to Jon's touch almost before it reaches him, falling back against the couch and arching sinuously between Jon's body and the cushions. "Mmmm...you've been planning this for a long time, haven't you," he accuses, when Jon releases him from the kiss.
"That's right," Jon purrs, starting to undo the man's buttons. It isn't quite true, but it sounds pretty impressive.
"And now you've got me in your clutches," continues Stephen, in between kissing his way down Jon's neck. "You could—" He grinds their hips together. "—do anything you want to me."
"Uh, sure," gasps Jon. There's something unsettling here, but he's not about to object, not while Stephen's skin is warm under his hands. "Within reason, obviously—"
"Anything," repeats Stephen emphatically, one leg hooking around Jon's back. "After all, if I don't submit to your every whim, my job could be on the line—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaims Jon. He's much too entangled in Stephen's limbs to extract himself, but he gives it his best shot. "Stephen, it's not like that — if you don't want to do this, nobody's going to force—"
"HEY!"
With both hands, Stephen grabs Jon's head and holds it steady, locking their gazes together.
"Don't ruin this for me, Stewart," he snaps, eyebrows like whips as they crack into place. "You are a powerful man, and I am the unwilling victim getting ravished by your powerful power. Unwillingly. Do we understand each other?"
"...Yes?"
"Good." Every inch of Stephen seems to soften as he lets Jon go and melts back against the couch. "Now, back to those nefarious designs you have on me...."
*
(2) Sam
Jon loves blondes (Beth, Nancy, Lauren), and, well, he married a brunette for good reason (Mo, Steve, Miriam, Stacey), but never let it be said that he doesn't appreciate variety. Not with the new correspondent sitting across from him, all honey-colored hair and legs down to the floor.
He hands Sam another glass of red wine, making sure their fingers brush in the process.
To his dismay, Sam knocks it back in two gulps and puts the empty glass down without even missing the coaster. "If you're looking to get me drunk, Mr. Stewart, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"Um," says Jon.
Sam frowns. It makes her nose crinkle in a way that he's sure would be absolutely adorable if the suspicion behind it weren't directed squarely at him. "Wait. Don't tell me you are?"
"Maybe a little," admits Jon, leavening his incredible suaveness with just a bit of the sheepishly cute. This is a tactic he has to be careful with: overdo it, and women start trying to mother him. He's a few years older than Sam, though, and hoping that will cancel out the effect. "I just wanted to give this a bit of...you know...social lubrication."
"You're hitting on me."
Jon slips into his most roguish smile. "And if I am?"
"Jon Stewart, I am disappointed in you!" snaps Sam. "I'm a married woman!"
Younger though she is, all it takes is those two sentences to knock Jon back to shuffling-schoolboy mode. "Uh — I didn't mean any disrespect, I just—"
"Then you should have had the common manners to invite my husband!" exclaims Sam, already tapping away at her cell phone. "Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into people these days. Honey? Hi, it's me. Yeah, he wants it. Jon. Jon Stewart. S-T-E-W—yes, the one with the nose. No, but he's very cute when he tries. You'll love him, honeybear, I promise. Oh, yay!"
She rattles off the address, then flips the phone closed, smiles sweetly at Jon, and finally brings the conversation back to familiar territory.
"So! Now that that's all settled — ever taken off a bra with your teeth?"
*
(3) Jason
"Before you ask, I just called, and Sam's on her way."
"Awesome." Jason grins at him. "While we're waiting — ever taken off a bra with your teeth?"
*
(4) John Hodgman
"Phew!" exclaims Hodgman, undoing his cufflinks. "I was not expecting that."
Jon, who had come into the break room looking for either his newest contributor or a bagel (and, frankly, hoping to find the bagel first), does a double-take. "What?"
"Why, the sexual tension. It's so thick between us, you could cut it with a spoon. Well, obviously it would have to be a very sharp spoon."
"Obviously," echoes Jon, scrutinizing Hodgman's face. Nothing. The man is either a robot, an Olympic-level deadpan snarker, or perfectly sincere. "Um, since you mention it, I was actually planning to offer to take you to dinner...."
"Well, that's very gracious of you, but quite unneccessary," says Hodgman. "In fact, I think it would be best if one or both of us were bent over your desk within the next ten minutes."
"T-ten? I can't even buy you a drink first?"
"I assure you that alcohol will have no further effect on my inhibitions." Hodgman cocks his head owlishly at Jon. "You may refer to me as a 'bad, bad boy' during the proceedings if it helps you to frame the situation."
"Uh, no thanks. I'll manage." Jon straightens his tie. "Ten minutes, you said?"
"Nine minutes and forty-two seconds. Give or take."
*
(5) Olivia
Jon's in the middle of congratulating Olivia on her first segment, and inviting her out to a private dinner to celebrate, when he freezes.
What's he doing? The woman is twenty-nine, for heaven's sake. When he was twenty-nine, she was still an army-brat middle schooler, tomboying it up at her sixth home in thirteen years.
Olivia sizes up his mental blue-screen-of-death, then takes a couple of easy steps closer. "You know, Sammy B told me that to get to the top, I would have to sleep with her."
Jon blinks several times. "She said what?"
"Well, she also said I should call her 'Sammy B'," points out Olivia. "I didn't take her too seriously."
"Ah! Good. That's good."
"No, I think there's another way to make it around here."
The direct, piercing look she's giving him chases all mental images of teenage tomboys out of Jon's head. "Whatever you've heard," he begins, sounding uncomfortably fatherly even to himself, "there aren't any hidden requirements in this studio. As long as you work hard and get along with the team, you'll go far."
Olivia all but saunters the next few steps, never breaking eye contact. "So you didn't just hire me because of that joke I made about sleeping with guys of different ethnicities?"
"What? No!" exclaims Jon. "It was mostly the Holocaust joke, if you want to know. Not caring whether you're being tasteless is kind of a necessity in this job."
"And it's not that you have some kind of Asian fetish?"
"Well — I do sort of have a thing for ninjas, but I wasn't assuming — and besides, Aasif's already worrying that you'll take his screentime, I wouldn't want him to feel like he had competition on the kink front too, even if — it's not an Asian thing, okay?"
"Was it my Maxim cover?"
"You had a Maxim cover?"
Okay, that is definitely sauntering. "But you do think I'm hot, right?"
Jon swallows. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't find you a very attractive young lady, yes."
"Oh, don't call me 'young lady'," protests Olivia, sliding her hips lightly against his. "Makes me feel like I'm going to get carded before I get into your pants."
"T-to be fair," stammers Jon, because at this distance she cannot have failed to notice his growing interest, so to speak, pants-wise, "I am significantly older than you. Some might say 'decrepit'."
Olivia snorts. "Right. As if you have no idea how many twenty-nine-year-olds in this country think about you when they break out their vibrators. Or their boyfriends." Her lips are hovering inches from Jon's; he can feel her breath. "I like pie."
"...huh?"
"The food," says Olivia impatiently. "What, did you think you were getting out of taking me to dinner first? If you had someplace in mind already, that's cool. But if not, let's find a place that serves good pie."
Rating: PG-13
Characters/pairings: Jon/everybody - specifically, "Stephen", Sam+Jason, John Hodgman, Aasif (offscreen), and Olivia
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
The long-awaited companion to The Grey Wolf Is On The Prowl, as suggested by
holly_cullen and girlanachronism. Jon considers himself a master of seduction. Most of his staff are just too nice to burst his bubble.Olivia's scene is inspired largely by this interview.
Five Other Correspondents Jon (Thought He) Seduced
(1) Stephen
Stephen's accusing stare has been on the back of Jon's neck almost constantly since walking onto the stage that first night. It isn't any better here at home, the other man glaring dully at him from the other end of the couch while a plate of untouched biscotti cools on the coffee table.
Still, Jon has confidence. He has a script, and it never fails.
"I know we have our differences, but I hope you'll stay around," he says, putting a hand on Stephen's knee. "I'm not looking for a crew of yes-men. Besides, healthy disagreement makes life more...exciting. Don't you agree?"
Twin spots of pink rise in Stephen's cheeks. "I — I know where this is going," he stammers. "Cut to the chase, Stewart."
It takes Jon a second to figure out that a couple of pages have just been torn up. But, hey, might as well not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Stephen yields to Jon's touch almost before it reaches him, falling back against the couch and arching sinuously between Jon's body and the cushions. "Mmmm...you've been planning this for a long time, haven't you," he accuses, when Jon releases him from the kiss.
"That's right," Jon purrs, starting to undo the man's buttons. It isn't quite true, but it sounds pretty impressive.
"And now you've got me in your clutches," continues Stephen, in between kissing his way down Jon's neck. "You could—" He grinds their hips together. "—do anything you want to me."
"Uh, sure," gasps Jon. There's something unsettling here, but he's not about to object, not while Stephen's skin is warm under his hands. "Within reason, obviously—"
"Anything," repeats Stephen emphatically, one leg hooking around Jon's back. "After all, if I don't submit to your every whim, my job could be on the line—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaims Jon. He's much too entangled in Stephen's limbs to extract himself, but he gives it his best shot. "Stephen, it's not like that — if you don't want to do this, nobody's going to force—"
"HEY!"
With both hands, Stephen grabs Jon's head and holds it steady, locking their gazes together.
"Don't ruin this for me, Stewart," he snaps, eyebrows like whips as they crack into place. "You are a powerful man, and I am the unwilling victim getting ravished by your powerful power. Unwillingly. Do we understand each other?"
"...Yes?"
"Good." Every inch of Stephen seems to soften as he lets Jon go and melts back against the couch. "Now, back to those nefarious designs you have on me...."
(2) Sam
Jon loves blondes (Beth, Nancy, Lauren), and, well, he married a brunette for good reason (Mo, Steve, Miriam, Stacey), but never let it be said that he doesn't appreciate variety. Not with the new correspondent sitting across from him, all honey-colored hair and legs down to the floor.
He hands Sam another glass of red wine, making sure their fingers brush in the process.
To his dismay, Sam knocks it back in two gulps and puts the empty glass down without even missing the coaster. "If you're looking to get me drunk, Mr. Stewart, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"Um," says Jon.
Sam frowns. It makes her nose crinkle in a way that he's sure would be absolutely adorable if the suspicion behind it weren't directed squarely at him. "Wait. Don't tell me you are?"
"Maybe a little," admits Jon, leavening his incredible suaveness with just a bit of the sheepishly cute. This is a tactic he has to be careful with: overdo it, and women start trying to mother him. He's a few years older than Sam, though, and hoping that will cancel out the effect. "I just wanted to give this a bit of...you know...social lubrication."
"You're hitting on me."
Jon slips into his most roguish smile. "And if I am?"
"Jon Stewart, I am disappointed in you!" snaps Sam. "I'm a married woman!"
Younger though she is, all it takes is those two sentences to knock Jon back to shuffling-schoolboy mode. "Uh — I didn't mean any disrespect, I just—"
"Then you should have had the common manners to invite my husband!" exclaims Sam, already tapping away at her cell phone. "Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into people these days. Honey? Hi, it's me. Yeah, he wants it. Jon. Jon Stewart. S-T-E-W—yes, the one with the nose. No, but he's very cute when he tries. You'll love him, honeybear, I promise. Oh, yay!"
She rattles off the address, then flips the phone closed, smiles sweetly at Jon, and finally brings the conversation back to familiar territory.
"So! Now that that's all settled — ever taken off a bra with your teeth?"
(3) Jason
"Before you ask, I just called, and Sam's on her way."
"Awesome." Jason grins at him. "While we're waiting — ever taken off a bra with your teeth?"
(4) John Hodgman
"Phew!" exclaims Hodgman, undoing his cufflinks. "I was not expecting that."
Jon, who had come into the break room looking for either his newest contributor or a bagel (and, frankly, hoping to find the bagel first), does a double-take. "What?"
"Why, the sexual tension. It's so thick between us, you could cut it with a spoon. Well, obviously it would have to be a very sharp spoon."
"Obviously," echoes Jon, scrutinizing Hodgman's face. Nothing. The man is either a robot, an Olympic-level deadpan snarker, or perfectly sincere. "Um, since you mention it, I was actually planning to offer to take you to dinner...."
"Well, that's very gracious of you, but quite unneccessary," says Hodgman. "In fact, I think it would be best if one or both of us were bent over your desk within the next ten minutes."
"T-ten? I can't even buy you a drink first?"
"I assure you that alcohol will have no further effect on my inhibitions." Hodgman cocks his head owlishly at Jon. "You may refer to me as a 'bad, bad boy' during the proceedings if it helps you to frame the situation."
"Uh, no thanks. I'll manage." Jon straightens his tie. "Ten minutes, you said?"
"Nine minutes and forty-two seconds. Give or take."
(5) Olivia
Jon's in the middle of congratulating Olivia on her first segment, and inviting her out to a private dinner to celebrate, when he freezes.
What's he doing? The woman is twenty-nine, for heaven's sake. When he was twenty-nine, she was still an army-brat middle schooler, tomboying it up at her sixth home in thirteen years.
Olivia sizes up his mental blue-screen-of-death, then takes a couple of easy steps closer. "You know, Sammy B told me that to get to the top, I would have to sleep with her."
Jon blinks several times. "She said what?"
"Well, she also said I should call her 'Sammy B'," points out Olivia. "I didn't take her too seriously."
"Ah! Good. That's good."
"No, I think there's another way to make it around here."
The direct, piercing look she's giving him chases all mental images of teenage tomboys out of Jon's head. "Whatever you've heard," he begins, sounding uncomfortably fatherly even to himself, "there aren't any hidden requirements in this studio. As long as you work hard and get along with the team, you'll go far."
Olivia all but saunters the next few steps, never breaking eye contact. "So you didn't just hire me because of that joke I made about sleeping with guys of different ethnicities?"
"What? No!" exclaims Jon. "It was mostly the Holocaust joke, if you want to know. Not caring whether you're being tasteless is kind of a necessity in this job."
"And it's not that you have some kind of Asian fetish?"
"Well — I do sort of have a thing for ninjas, but I wasn't assuming — and besides, Aasif's already worrying that you'll take his screentime, I wouldn't want him to feel like he had competition on the kink front too, even if — it's not an Asian thing, okay?"
"Was it my Maxim cover?"
"You had a Maxim cover?"
Okay, that is definitely sauntering. "But you do think I'm hot, right?"
Jon swallows. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't find you a very attractive young lady, yes."
"Oh, don't call me 'young lady'," protests Olivia, sliding her hips lightly against his. "Makes me feel like I'm going to get carded before I get into your pants."
"T-to be fair," stammers Jon, because at this distance she cannot have failed to notice his growing interest, so to speak, pants-wise, "I am significantly older than you. Some might say 'decrepit'."
Olivia snorts. "Right. As if you have no idea how many twenty-nine-year-olds in this country think about you when they break out their vibrators. Or their boyfriends." Her lips are hovering inches from Jon's; he can feel her breath. "I like pie."
"...huh?"
"The food," says Olivia impatiently. "What, did you think you were getting out of taking me to dinner first? If you had someplace in mind already, that's cool. But if not, let's find a place that serves good pie."
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(Anonymous) 2010-06-30 01:28 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Thanks!
(Also -- please sign in with OpenID or leave a name on your comments!)
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(Anonymous) 2010-06-30 06:47 am (UTC)(link)And I think you've got me addicted to Jason/Jon/Sam now, haha.
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Loved the Hodgman one.
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Jon/Olivia = HOT
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Thanks!
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(Anonymous) 2010-07-14 04:44 am (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2010-07-14 04:46 am (UTC)(link)no subject
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"Awesome." Jason grins at him. "While we're waiting — ever taken off a bra with your teeth?"
UNF. I've been toying with the idea of doing Sam & Jason together...um, drawing, drawing them together in the genderbending meme, and now I think that is a necessity!
Hodgman is by far the best one :D I'm actually a little frightened trying to picture the deadpan continuing during the sex, and yet, I know John will still manage to make it endearing rather than creepy.
Olivia demands respect :Db (I have to admit, I still have a hard time giving in to this pairing because Jon really does seem so fatherly toward her, but I do like Olivia pointing out how many young people find Jon hot for just that reason) Also, the BSOD line is classic.
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Draw it! Draw it!
Hodgman is fun to write. Even if I can only pull off his voice in short bursts ^_^;
Jon seems fatherly towards a lot of the correspondents at one time or another. Even "Stephen", who's only a couple years younger than him (although it is "Stephen", which means logic frequently doesn't apply). My take on the 'ship is pretty much as it goes here: Jon's instincts would be fatherly and caretaking, so it would only work if Olivia (a) decided she was interested and (b) actively pursued him. But if she did, it could be awesome.