Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2009-05-26 08:18 am
ptahrrific) wrote2009-05-26 08:18 am
Entry tags:
Fake News: With The Stars In His Eye
Title: With The Stars In His Eye
Series: TDS/TCR
Characters/Pairings: Jon/"Stephen", audience
Rating: G
Disclaimer: See the index.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stellar_dust, who prompted "Stephen scores the last ever tourist trip to the International Space Station." Title is from Alan Parsons Project's Day After Day.
(Since this is light sci-fi, I feel compelled to mention that today is Towel Day. Douglas Adams fans, represent!)
With The Stars In His Eye
"For more on this story, we turn to our Senior Space Correspondent...uh, just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, the satellite isn't quite...there it goes! And, oh my gosh, it's Stephen Colbert!"
The audience erupted. Floating on the blurry screen, Stephen basked in the attention, nodding importantly and waving to the crowd.
"Stephen, Stephen, what are you doing on this show?" exclaimed Jon as the noise died down. "You've got your own now, remember?"
"The Report is unforgettable, Jon," declared Stephen. "No, this is a favor to you. Because this story is huge, but apparently none of your current wishy-washy crop of correspondents had the balls to go where the action was."
"Uh, Stephen, the action is at the International Space Station."
"Hello!" exclaimed Stephen, waving his arms around. "Do you see how I'm floating, here?"
"So, let me get this straight. You, Stephen Colbert, are actually in space?"
"Exactly."
That set the crowd off again. Stephen tried to keep his face stern, but it collapsed into a helpless grin.
"Go on," he prompted, as the excitement died down. "I've been studying up on this stuff. Ask me anything. The composition of the station, the assignments of the crew, the projected timetable for completion, anything at all."
Pursing his lips, Jon tapped his script on the desk, arranging the edges into a straight line.
Then he said, "What's it, ah, like? Being up there, I mean."
This was Stephen's cue to gush about how awesome it was. To start into an enthusiastic rant about the amazing research being done into the effects of microgravity, about the changes it made in everything from bones to plants to fire.
"You know, I always liked looking at the stars," he said instead.
He was looking at the floor now. (Or possibly the ceiling. Jon wasn't sure.) And his voice had dropped into a different register. Less presentational.
"They were so small," he continued. "I could cover dozens of them with just the palm of my hand. Reminded me how important I was, you know?"
This was completely off-script, so all Jon could think of to do was agree. "Yeah, I hear you."
"But now I'm up here," continued Stephen. "And I look out the window, and the stars all look the same, but the Earth...I can't see my house from here, Jon. I can't see my church. I can't see the studio. I can't even tell where the state is, and I can cover the whole country with the palm of my hand. If we got a little farther back, I could probably block out the planet...."
"So," suggested Jon lightly, as his correspondent seemed lost for words, "now you know what it's like to feel small, eh?"
That elicited a bit of the old spark. "Stop gloating, Stewart. I'm trying to share an epiphany, here."
"Sorry. Continue."
Stephen took a deep breath. "The thing is...up here, all the stuff I used to think was really important doesn't seem like that big a deal any more."
Jon nodded.
"What I'm trying to say, Jon, is — will you marry me?"
Jon sat bolt upright.
The audience caught its collective breath.
"S-Stephen," stammered Jon, the script rustling in his shaking hands, "last week you didn't even want us to be out...."
"Unless you plan to stick the audience in cryogenic chambers right after the show, we're going to be out in about ten minutes," retorted Stephen. The strength was back in his voice now. "Maybe earlier, if any of them are sneaking out their cell phones and releasing the news to the Twittersphere. So, how about it?"
Now it was Jon's turn to lose his entertainer's tone. "Are you really sure about this?"
Stephen shrugged with forced nonchalance. "It's the only thing that still seemed important."
When still Jon hesitated, he added, "Oh, come on. Do you really want to go down in history as the first person to turn down a proposal from space?"
"I guess not," admitted Jon, with a wry grin. "You know what? Okay."
Stephen's reply was lost entirely in the roar of the crowd.
Series: TDS/TCR
Characters/Pairings: Jon/"Stephen", audience
Rating: G
Disclaimer: See the index.
For
stellar_dust, who prompted "Stephen scores the last ever tourist trip to the International Space Station." Title is from Alan Parsons Project's Day After Day.(Since this is light sci-fi, I feel compelled to mention that today is Towel Day. Douglas Adams fans, represent!)
With The Stars In His Eye
"For more on this story, we turn to our Senior Space Correspondent...uh, just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, the satellite isn't quite...there it goes! And, oh my gosh, it's Stephen Colbert!"
The audience erupted. Floating on the blurry screen, Stephen basked in the attention, nodding importantly and waving to the crowd.
"Stephen, Stephen, what are you doing on this show?" exclaimed Jon as the noise died down. "You've got your own now, remember?"
"The Report is unforgettable, Jon," declared Stephen. "No, this is a favor to you. Because this story is huge, but apparently none of your current wishy-washy crop of correspondents had the balls to go where the action was."
"Uh, Stephen, the action is at the International Space Station."
"Hello!" exclaimed Stephen, waving his arms around. "Do you see how I'm floating, here?"
"So, let me get this straight. You, Stephen Colbert, are actually in space?"
"Exactly."
That set the crowd off again. Stephen tried to keep his face stern, but it collapsed into a helpless grin.
"Go on," he prompted, as the excitement died down. "I've been studying up on this stuff. Ask me anything. The composition of the station, the assignments of the crew, the projected timetable for completion, anything at all."
Pursing his lips, Jon tapped his script on the desk, arranging the edges into a straight line.
Then he said, "What's it, ah, like? Being up there, I mean."
This was Stephen's cue to gush about how awesome it was. To start into an enthusiastic rant about the amazing research being done into the effects of microgravity, about the changes it made in everything from bones to plants to fire.
"You know, I always liked looking at the stars," he said instead.
He was looking at the floor now. (Or possibly the ceiling. Jon wasn't sure.) And his voice had dropped into a different register. Less presentational.
"They were so small," he continued. "I could cover dozens of them with just the palm of my hand. Reminded me how important I was, you know?"
This was completely off-script, so all Jon could think of to do was agree. "Yeah, I hear you."
"But now I'm up here," continued Stephen. "And I look out the window, and the stars all look the same, but the Earth...I can't see my house from here, Jon. I can't see my church. I can't see the studio. I can't even tell where the state is, and I can cover the whole country with the palm of my hand. If we got a little farther back, I could probably block out the planet...."
"So," suggested Jon lightly, as his correspondent seemed lost for words, "now you know what it's like to feel small, eh?"
That elicited a bit of the old spark. "Stop gloating, Stewart. I'm trying to share an epiphany, here."
"Sorry. Continue."
Stephen took a deep breath. "The thing is...up here, all the stuff I used to think was really important doesn't seem like that big a deal any more."
Jon nodded.
"What I'm trying to say, Jon, is — will you marry me?"
Jon sat bolt upright.
The audience caught its collective breath.
"S-Stephen," stammered Jon, the script rustling in his shaking hands, "last week you didn't even want us to be out...."
"Unless you plan to stick the audience in cryogenic chambers right after the show, we're going to be out in about ten minutes," retorted Stephen. The strength was back in his voice now. "Maybe earlier, if any of them are sneaking out their cell phones and releasing the news to the Twittersphere. So, how about it?"
Now it was Jon's turn to lose his entertainer's tone. "Are you really sure about this?"
Stephen shrugged with forced nonchalance. "It's the only thing that still seemed important."
When still Jon hesitated, he added, "Oh, come on. Do you really want to go down in history as the first person to turn down a proposal from space?"
"I guess not," admitted Jon, with a wry grin. "You know what? Okay."
Stephen's reply was lost entirely in the roar of the crowd.
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(Sadly, I have no Towel Day appropriate icons, but I figure this one kinda works.)
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Thanks!
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Seriously though, how wonderfully sweet. I'm really glad that Stephen was able to get that new perspective/experience in space. I like the ending touch, by the way.
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That is all. =D
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(Anonymous) 2017-04-28 02:31 am (UTC)(link)- Doris
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