Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2009-02-23 07:22 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2009-02-23 07:22 pm
Fake News: The Great Divide, part 1
Title: The Great Divide (1/3)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, sexual harassment, epic skate-off
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen" (preslash), references to ensemble, cameo by Rain (RAAAAIN!!!)
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: Continuation of the Senateverse. Stephen Colbert (R-SC) has the worst record for bipartisanship in recent history. Jon Stewart (D-NY) did convince him to cross the aisle one time, but does that mean they'll be able to survive a three-week vacation together?
Title, again, is from an Emmy Rossum song [lyrics]. Rather than hire lots of OCs, Jon has borrowed his household staff from the Möders family.
The Great Divide - Part 1
Stephen let out a low whistle as he climbed out of the limo. "Is that what we're riding in? You'll put out a dish for any fuel-efficiency bill that sniffs around your back door, but you take your own rides in a triple-decker jet?"
Jon Stewart, a godless pinko commie liberal flip-flopping Democrat and Stephen's host for the next three weeks, shrugged. It was a weak shrug. A gutless shrug. The shrug of a man who doesn't have the spine to get angry. "When I fly, I like to wander around three different cabins."
"Dibs on the top one," said Stephen quickly. (Stephen always topped.)
"We'll both take the top," said Stewart. Before Stephen could wonder about the logistics of this, he continued: "We need to do some schedule coordinating anyway. Bottom one is the flight attendants' lounge, so we'll leave them to it."
"Why do your flight attendants need a lounge?" demanded Stephen, as one of the same retrieved his suitcase from the back of the limo. "You pay them to be attending, not lounging."
"They're not robots, Stephen. They're not built to be working constantly."
He didn't say it very loudly, so Stephen ignored him and took the steps two at a time.
They hadn't even taken off yet, and already he was above everyone else at BWI. What a great way to start a trip.
*
The flight really wasn't long enough to do much scheduling, or anything else besides have a drink and check his BlackBerry. Judging by the state of his inbox, the news of Jon's impromptu vacation plan had reached every Democratic politician in the country, and all of them wanted a word.
(Colbert also had his BlackBerry out, but judging by the way it was facing and the movements of his thumbs, he was using it to play Tetris.)
Man, I hope you know what you're doing, read an email from Larry, with his usual rueful understatement.
Lewis, of course, went straight for the jugular. Damnit, Stewart, if you were that desperate for companionship, couldn't you have gotten a number from Spitzer or something? At least that washes off in the morning!
One of Hillary's representatives sent his official email a packaged set of lines about how he was doing a great thing for the spirit of bipartisanship. In his private inbox, though, was a note from the SecState herself: If it's 3 A.M. and he's driving you crazy, you know who to call.
He was preparing to compose a reassuring reply to Kristin Schaal (whose message constituted a very strong argument for federal restrictions on exclamation points) when Rita came by to refill their champagne. As Jon looked up to thank her, she slipped a piece of folded paper into his hand. Puzzled, he opened it up.
Please ask Mr. Colbert to stop hitting on the flight attendants, as it is making us very uncomfortable.
Jon sighed. This was not the greatest way to start a trip.
*
As Stephen met the members of Stewart's household staff, he saved himself the trouble of having to keep track of them all by giving each one an easy-to-remember nickname.
The energetic maid who carried his suitcase inside, introduced as Tasha, became Spunky. Johanna, the cook who looked as though she enjoyed her own food a little too much, got to be Sweet Stuff. He was trying to think up an appelation for Hans when he realized that the butler hadn't said a word, was just staring at him, with an expression that could have stopped a freight train. So Hans he stayed.
"We have to eat out a lot, though," declared Stephen as they paused in the dining room. "No point in visiting New York if you don't enjoy the restaurants, right? And we should go see a couple of shows. And go skating at Rockefeller Center. And, ooh! We have to spend New Year's at Times Square!"
"There's just one problem with doing all the touristy things in New York," pointed out Stewart. "You end up surrounded by tourists."
"Stop being such an elitist. Nothing wrong with being around common people, as long as you make sure to wash your hands afterwards. Oh, and I need to find a church to go to. You do still have churches this far north, right? Well, I guess you wouldn't know...."
"Actually, there was one thing I thought we could do," suggested Stewart, leading him through to the hall. "Drop by the Manfred Steiner School. Take a tour, maybe hold a press conference, let people know the good work their tax dollars are doing."
"Stop by where now?"
"The school we funded. The one that trains autism educators. Remember the bill we co-sponsored...?"
"Oh, right! That Manfred Steiner School." Stephen nodded wisely, as though he had founded so many schools that it was hard to keep track. "Good idea. Oh, and I need to go shopping! I only brought one extra suit."
"I wondered why you packed so light. Leave that one on the bed in the morning, and someone will pick it up and have it dry-cleaned."
"No need. I never wear the same outfit twice."
"Uh, okay then." The other man stopped in front of a door, and Stephen realized he hadn't been paying attention: he had no idea how they had gotten here. "This is your room. Bathroom's attached, and there's a button on the wall to ring the staff if you need anyone."
Stephen felt his hackles rise. (At least, he was pretty sure that was his hackles.) "Why would I 'need' someone, Stewart? It's only sleeping on my own in a dark room in a strange place! I can handle it!"
Stewart gave him a strange look. "I was thinking more along the lines of the toilet backing up."
"Oh," said Stephen. "In that case, yeah, a button might come in handy."
*
The first week actually went a lot better than Jon had hoped.
He supposed that on some level he had been prepared for constant outbreaks of shouting, which seemed to be the fate of any subcommittee Colbert was placed on. But for whatever reason his guest, who normally acted as though it were his goal in life to never let a member of the opposition string together more than five words in a row, seemed to have classified Jon as A Friend.
Moreover, there were unexpected benefits to having Stephen's intensity turned on you in a non-angry way.
The food, for one thing. On his first night in town Colbert demanded a table at an exotic five-star Thai restaurant, the kind that normally had a six-month waiting list. And, okay, once he got there, he ordered a hamburger. But Jon tried the house special, discovered that it was delicious, made a reservation for June of 2010, and later realized with a start that he had something to look forward to for the first time (excepting only the election) in years.
The next evening they went to the theater, where Colbert spent most of the play yelling helpful advice at the actors. Jon eventually gave up on trying to shush him, slunk out of the box altogether, and spent the fourth act hovering around the bar.
*
Stephen decided he liked having a Jewish Friend. Maybe he would even pick up another some time.
Sure, there were downsides. For one thing, Stewart's house was horribly underdecorated for the season. But Stephen had fixed that up right quick, heading down to a local mall while his colleague was off speaking at some charity thing and picking up a sackful of Christmas cheer, which he then spread around the house, by way of telling Spunky to spread it around the house and shouting when she didn't do it right.
To be honest, he had had his eye on Stewart for the Jewish Friend spot long before this vacation thing. Yes, the man was a flaming liberal, but there weren't exactly a lot of right-thinking conservatives who counted themselves among the Chosen People. (Unless you included Lieberman, and, frankly, Stephen wouldn't have included Lieberman in a round of mini-golf.)
Besides, Stewart had a certain...something...about him.
Stephen couldn't explain it. All he knew was, most of the time he disapproved of education, mistrusted children, and firmly believed that everyone should have to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps (and if they couldn't afford boots, well, too bad for them). But when Stewart had proposed a bill supporting extra education for young kids on the autism spectrum, he had done...something...that made Stephen wholeheartedly believe it was a good idea.
Not only had he agreed to co-sponsor the thing on Stewart's word alone, he had gone out and done some research on his own. Well, ordered his aides to do it, but still! Research! The kind that leads to thinking!
(Though it was admittedly kind of a relief to discover that the autistic do not rule the night and feast on human flesh. Stephen had always been a little worried about that.)
Point is, Stewart's...something...had completely swept him away. And since Stephen was pretty sure pacts with the Devil to deceive the minds of Christians were out of fashion these days, that meant Stewart had pulled it off under his own power.
When someone can do that, it's worth making sure they're somewhere you can keep an eye on them.
*
Colbert wanted to shove his way onto the skating rink as soon as they got there, but here, at least, Jon insisted that they wait. Not least because a couple of photographers had shown up, and it always looks good when senators are caught standing in the same lines as their constituents.
(Well, Jon's constituents. But he was pretty sure the effect would carry.)
He figured they would just take a couple of spins around the ice and be done with it, so to that end he circled the rink twice, then settled at the edge and looked for Colbert.
It wasn't hard. Half the people there were watching him already.
Colbert was working the ice like he'd been born on it. While Jon spent most of his energy just trying to stay upright, his companion was doing figure eights as easy as breathing, weaving between the other skaters like a hawk flying through trees.
At first his arms were tucked casually in the pockets of his coat. But as the rink began to clear, with people trickling off just to watch him better, the limbs slid out and began to move. Not towards a goal so pedestrian as balance, either. This was pure aesthetics.
The man was a dancer.
Once he had a solid audience, Colbert began to work his crowd. Charming grins were sent off like strategically aimed missiles, inciting growing outbursts of applause wherever they fell. With more freedom to move, his footwork grew more complicated; he launched into actual twirls, always giving the assembly a wink and a wave beforehand to stoke the anticipation.
As Jon was starting to seriously wonder whether Colbert would move on to jumps, the man slowed down, held up a finger to let the audience know he wasn't done yet, and skated in a langorous arc which ended in front of a shy-looking young woman whom Jon had yet to see enter the ice.
You couldn't have scripted a better crowd-pleaser. He extended a hand. She put one of hers over her mouth, then looked behind her, as if checking to make sure the invitation wasn't meant for someone else. The rest of the audience let out a rousing cheer. Over at one side, flashbulbs went off.
Damn, he's good, thought Jon, smiling in spite of himself.
If only this had been a Hallmark movie. The scene could have faded out right there.
In the beginning Colbert's chosen partner seemed like she might be warming up to the whole idea. He had eschewed the twists and turns for simple circles, balance as sure as ever. And if the arm around her waist was a little snug, well, it was keeping her steady. So far, so good.
But as the pair moved on, Colbert's grip didn't lessen. Rather, he seemed to be pulling her closer, getting ahold of some choice handfuls of flesh in the process.
As murmurs began to run through the crowd at her increasingly obvious discomfort, a handsome young Korean man broke from the throng and slid out onto the rink. Circling to end up in front of Colbert, he matched pace with the man and began skating backwards so that they faced each other, then began speaking, low and intense.
They were on the opposite side of the ice now, so Jon couldn't make out Colbert's reply, but it was recognizably indignant.
There was no way this would end well.
Jon was in the middle of calling his driver when the skaters passed by him, so he didn't catch the nuances of their ever-louder conversation. He did, however, manage to pick up the word "skate-off."
*
"That hurt," complained Stephen as he was shepherded into the limo.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have gotten into a skating contest with a man half your age," said Stewart, with maddening rationality.
"That just makes it worse! I thought those people had a culture of respecting their elders!"
"There's probably some wiggle room when the elder in question feels up your sister. Scoot over."
Stephen edged across the seat, making room for Stewart to squeeze in beside him. "Didn't even show any sympathy when I fell," he groused. "I could have broken my wrist, and he acted like he didn't care!"
"Did you break your wrist? Move over more."
"No, but I could have! And quit pushing!"
"There's plenty of room in here. You don't need to be squashed up next to me."
"Well, I'm cold."
"We'll turn up the heat. Move."
Stephen turned his attention from his not-broken-but-still-deserving-of-sympathy wrist to squint at Stewart. "You don't want me touching you."
The other man leaned away from him. "Listen, I'm not a touchy-feely kind of guy, okay?"
"You were plenty ready to get handsy on the Senate floor the other day," countered Stephen.
"Ready to get—? You were in tears! You looked like you needed a hug!"
"I was fine!"
"Then you'll be fine now. Besides, this time you brought it on yourself. Now give me a little personal space, already."
"Fine," snapped Stephen. "Be that way. Your loss."
He scooted all the way to the other end of the leather seat, leaned against the far door, and didn't speak to Stewart for the rest of the ride home. That would show him.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, sexual harassment, epic skate-off
Characters/pairings: Jon/"Stephen" (preslash), references to ensemble, cameo by Rain (RAAAAIN!!!)
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Summary: Continuation of the Senateverse. Stephen Colbert (R-SC) has the worst record for bipartisanship in recent history. Jon Stewart (D-NY) did convince him to cross the aisle one time, but does that mean they'll be able to survive a three-week vacation together?
Title, again, is from an Emmy Rossum song [lyrics]. Rather than hire lots of OCs, Jon has borrowed his household staff from the Möders family.
The Great Divide - Part 1
Stephen let out a low whistle as he climbed out of the limo. "Is that what we're riding in? You'll put out a dish for any fuel-efficiency bill that sniffs around your back door, but you take your own rides in a triple-decker jet?"
Jon Stewart, a godless pinko commie liberal flip-flopping Democrat and Stephen's host for the next three weeks, shrugged. It was a weak shrug. A gutless shrug. The shrug of a man who doesn't have the spine to get angry. "When I fly, I like to wander around three different cabins."
"Dibs on the top one," said Stephen quickly. (Stephen always topped.)
"We'll both take the top," said Stewart. Before Stephen could wonder about the logistics of this, he continued: "We need to do some schedule coordinating anyway. Bottom one is the flight attendants' lounge, so we'll leave them to it."
"Why do your flight attendants need a lounge?" demanded Stephen, as one of the same retrieved his suitcase from the back of the limo. "You pay them to be attending, not lounging."
"They're not robots, Stephen. They're not built to be working constantly."
He didn't say it very loudly, so Stephen ignored him and took the steps two at a time.
They hadn't even taken off yet, and already he was above everyone else at BWI. What a great way to start a trip.
The flight really wasn't long enough to do much scheduling, or anything else besides have a drink and check his BlackBerry. Judging by the state of his inbox, the news of Jon's impromptu vacation plan had reached every Democratic politician in the country, and all of them wanted a word.
(Colbert also had his BlackBerry out, but judging by the way it was facing and the movements of his thumbs, he was using it to play Tetris.)
Man, I hope you know what you're doing, read an email from Larry, with his usual rueful understatement.
Lewis, of course, went straight for the jugular. Damnit, Stewart, if you were that desperate for companionship, couldn't you have gotten a number from Spitzer or something? At least that washes off in the morning!
One of Hillary's representatives sent his official email a packaged set of lines about how he was doing a great thing for the spirit of bipartisanship. In his private inbox, though, was a note from the SecState herself: If it's 3 A.M. and he's driving you crazy, you know who to call.
He was preparing to compose a reassuring reply to Kristin Schaal (whose message constituted a very strong argument for federal restrictions on exclamation points) when Rita came by to refill their champagne. As Jon looked up to thank her, she slipped a piece of folded paper into his hand. Puzzled, he opened it up.
Please ask Mr. Colbert to stop hitting on the flight attendants, as it is making us very uncomfortable.
Jon sighed. This was not the greatest way to start a trip.
As Stephen met the members of Stewart's household staff, he saved himself the trouble of having to keep track of them all by giving each one an easy-to-remember nickname.
The energetic maid who carried his suitcase inside, introduced as Tasha, became Spunky. Johanna, the cook who looked as though she enjoyed her own food a little too much, got to be Sweet Stuff. He was trying to think up an appelation for Hans when he realized that the butler hadn't said a word, was just staring at him, with an expression that could have stopped a freight train. So Hans he stayed.
"We have to eat out a lot, though," declared Stephen as they paused in the dining room. "No point in visiting New York if you don't enjoy the restaurants, right? And we should go see a couple of shows. And go skating at Rockefeller Center. And, ooh! We have to spend New Year's at Times Square!"
"There's just one problem with doing all the touristy things in New York," pointed out Stewart. "You end up surrounded by tourists."
"Stop being such an elitist. Nothing wrong with being around common people, as long as you make sure to wash your hands afterwards. Oh, and I need to find a church to go to. You do still have churches this far north, right? Well, I guess you wouldn't know...."
"Actually, there was one thing I thought we could do," suggested Stewart, leading him through to the hall. "Drop by the Manfred Steiner School. Take a tour, maybe hold a press conference, let people know the good work their tax dollars are doing."
"Stop by where now?"
"The school we funded. The one that trains autism educators. Remember the bill we co-sponsored...?"
"Oh, right! That Manfred Steiner School." Stephen nodded wisely, as though he had founded so many schools that it was hard to keep track. "Good idea. Oh, and I need to go shopping! I only brought one extra suit."
"I wondered why you packed so light. Leave that one on the bed in the morning, and someone will pick it up and have it dry-cleaned."
"No need. I never wear the same outfit twice."
"Uh, okay then." The other man stopped in front of a door, and Stephen realized he hadn't been paying attention: he had no idea how they had gotten here. "This is your room. Bathroom's attached, and there's a button on the wall to ring the staff if you need anyone."
Stephen felt his hackles rise. (At least, he was pretty sure that was his hackles.) "Why would I 'need' someone, Stewart? It's only sleeping on my own in a dark room in a strange place! I can handle it!"
Stewart gave him a strange look. "I was thinking more along the lines of the toilet backing up."
"Oh," said Stephen. "In that case, yeah, a button might come in handy."
The first week actually went a lot better than Jon had hoped.
He supposed that on some level he had been prepared for constant outbreaks of shouting, which seemed to be the fate of any subcommittee Colbert was placed on. But for whatever reason his guest, who normally acted as though it were his goal in life to never let a member of the opposition string together more than five words in a row, seemed to have classified Jon as A Friend.
Moreover, there were unexpected benefits to having Stephen's intensity turned on you in a non-angry way.
The food, for one thing. On his first night in town Colbert demanded a table at an exotic five-star Thai restaurant, the kind that normally had a six-month waiting list. And, okay, once he got there, he ordered a hamburger. But Jon tried the house special, discovered that it was delicious, made a reservation for June of 2010, and later realized with a start that he had something to look forward to for the first time (excepting only the election) in years.
The next evening they went to the theater, where Colbert spent most of the play yelling helpful advice at the actors. Jon eventually gave up on trying to shush him, slunk out of the box altogether, and spent the fourth act hovering around the bar.
Stephen decided he liked having a Jewish Friend. Maybe he would even pick up another some time.
Sure, there were downsides. For one thing, Stewart's house was horribly underdecorated for the season. But Stephen had fixed that up right quick, heading down to a local mall while his colleague was off speaking at some charity thing and picking up a sackful of Christmas cheer, which he then spread around the house, by way of telling Spunky to spread it around the house and shouting when she didn't do it right.
To be honest, he had had his eye on Stewart for the Jewish Friend spot long before this vacation thing. Yes, the man was a flaming liberal, but there weren't exactly a lot of right-thinking conservatives who counted themselves among the Chosen People. (Unless you included Lieberman, and, frankly, Stephen wouldn't have included Lieberman in a round of mini-golf.)
Besides, Stewart had a certain...something...about him.
Stephen couldn't explain it. All he knew was, most of the time he disapproved of education, mistrusted children, and firmly believed that everyone should have to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps (and if they couldn't afford boots, well, too bad for them). But when Stewart had proposed a bill supporting extra education for young kids on the autism spectrum, he had done...something...that made Stephen wholeheartedly believe it was a good idea.
Not only had he agreed to co-sponsor the thing on Stewart's word alone, he had gone out and done some research on his own. Well, ordered his aides to do it, but still! Research! The kind that leads to thinking!
(Though it was admittedly kind of a relief to discover that the autistic do not rule the night and feast on human flesh. Stephen had always been a little worried about that.)
Point is, Stewart's...something...had completely swept him away. And since Stephen was pretty sure pacts with the Devil to deceive the minds of Christians were out of fashion these days, that meant Stewart had pulled it off under his own power.
When someone can do that, it's worth making sure they're somewhere you can keep an eye on them.
Colbert wanted to shove his way onto the skating rink as soon as they got there, but here, at least, Jon insisted that they wait. Not least because a couple of photographers had shown up, and it always looks good when senators are caught standing in the same lines as their constituents.
(Well, Jon's constituents. But he was pretty sure the effect would carry.)
He figured they would just take a couple of spins around the ice and be done with it, so to that end he circled the rink twice, then settled at the edge and looked for Colbert.
It wasn't hard. Half the people there were watching him already.
Colbert was working the ice like he'd been born on it. While Jon spent most of his energy just trying to stay upright, his companion was doing figure eights as easy as breathing, weaving between the other skaters like a hawk flying through trees.
At first his arms were tucked casually in the pockets of his coat. But as the rink began to clear, with people trickling off just to watch him better, the limbs slid out and began to move. Not towards a goal so pedestrian as balance, either. This was pure aesthetics.
The man was a dancer.
Once he had a solid audience, Colbert began to work his crowd. Charming grins were sent off like strategically aimed missiles, inciting growing outbursts of applause wherever they fell. With more freedom to move, his footwork grew more complicated; he launched into actual twirls, always giving the assembly a wink and a wave beforehand to stoke the anticipation.
As Jon was starting to seriously wonder whether Colbert would move on to jumps, the man slowed down, held up a finger to let the audience know he wasn't done yet, and skated in a langorous arc which ended in front of a shy-looking young woman whom Jon had yet to see enter the ice.
You couldn't have scripted a better crowd-pleaser. He extended a hand. She put one of hers over her mouth, then looked behind her, as if checking to make sure the invitation wasn't meant for someone else. The rest of the audience let out a rousing cheer. Over at one side, flashbulbs went off.
Damn, he's good, thought Jon, smiling in spite of himself.
If only this had been a Hallmark movie. The scene could have faded out right there.
In the beginning Colbert's chosen partner seemed like she might be warming up to the whole idea. He had eschewed the twists and turns for simple circles, balance as sure as ever. And if the arm around her waist was a little snug, well, it was keeping her steady. So far, so good.
But as the pair moved on, Colbert's grip didn't lessen. Rather, he seemed to be pulling her closer, getting ahold of some choice handfuls of flesh in the process.
As murmurs began to run through the crowd at her increasingly obvious discomfort, a handsome young Korean man broke from the throng and slid out onto the rink. Circling to end up in front of Colbert, he matched pace with the man and began skating backwards so that they faced each other, then began speaking, low and intense.
They were on the opposite side of the ice now, so Jon couldn't make out Colbert's reply, but it was recognizably indignant.
There was no way this would end well.
Jon was in the middle of calling his driver when the skaters passed by him, so he didn't catch the nuances of their ever-louder conversation. He did, however, manage to pick up the word "skate-off."
"That hurt," complained Stephen as he was shepherded into the limo.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have gotten into a skating contest with a man half your age," said Stewart, with maddening rationality.
"That just makes it worse! I thought those people had a culture of respecting their elders!"
"There's probably some wiggle room when the elder in question feels up your sister. Scoot over."
Stephen edged across the seat, making room for Stewart to squeeze in beside him. "Didn't even show any sympathy when I fell," he groused. "I could have broken my wrist, and he acted like he didn't care!"
"Did you break your wrist? Move over more."
"No, but I could have! And quit pushing!"
"There's plenty of room in here. You don't need to be squashed up next to me."
"Well, I'm cold."
"We'll turn up the heat. Move."
Stephen turned his attention from his not-broken-but-still-deserving-of-sympathy wrist to squint at Stewart. "You don't want me touching you."
The other man leaned away from him. "Listen, I'm not a touchy-feely kind of guy, okay?"
"You were plenty ready to get handsy on the Senate floor the other day," countered Stephen.
"Ready to get—? You were in tears! You looked like you needed a hug!"
"I was fine!"
"Then you'll be fine now. Besides, this time you brought it on yourself. Now give me a little personal space, already."
"Fine," snapped Stephen. "Be that way. Your loss."
He scooted all the way to the other end of the leather seat, leaned against the far door, and didn't speak to Stewart for the rest of the ride home. That would show him.
no subject
That skate off needs drawings. I am in no position to demand them but ... yeah.
Can't wait for part two!
no subject
Oh, geez. I'll put it on my list.
And thanks!
no subject
NOW I JUST WANT TO SEE RAIN AND STEPHEN IN AN SKATE-OFF. IN FRILLY DRESSES. WITH TIGHTS.
no subject
no subject
And Stephen is totally not afraid of the dark. Nope. Not at all. You must be thinking of some other Stephen.
CLEARLY THIS FANDOM NEEDS MORE FRILLY DRESSES.
no subject
no subject
(Here from
no subject
no subject
I LOVE YOU.
(That is all.)
no subject
I've waited for someone to write something like this.
THIS WAS MAGNIFICENT! BEYOND MAGNIFICENT!
no subject
...
*FLAIL*
...
YES!
no subject
w
YESYESYESYESYESYESYES.
IT'S...IT'S PERFECT.
no subject
no subject
no subject
AND THEN THIS:
O_O
The Great Divide (1/2)
THERE WILL BE MORE!! YAYAYAYAYAY!
no subject
And thank you!
no subject
no subject
Excellent stuff, as usual.
no subject
no subject
And secondly:
"Dibs on the top one," said Stephen quickly. (Stephen always topped.)
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA♥
no subject
Thanks!
no subject
How I love random SWC references!
Unless you included Lieberman, and, frankly, Stephen wouldn't have included Lieberman in a round of mini-golf.
I lol'd.
What a great 'verse this is! Can't wait for the next part. :)
no subject
Thanks!
no subject
Much love for Hillary's note, and the "if you need anything" exchange - was that really his hackles rising? - and also this:
since Stephen was pretty sure pacts with the Devil to deceive the minds of Christians were out of fashion these days
*snerk*
no subject
And thank you!
no subject
no subject
Ah, hell, who am I kidding? It was. The far-away argument, the skate-off, wonderful.
And just as much love for Jon. I wasn't getting handsy, you looked like you desperately needed a hug!
no subject
He could probably use a little groping from Jon, but Jon of course hasn't figured that out. (Yet....)
And thanks!
no subject
(Anonymous) 2009-02-23 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)~A. Fann
no subject
no subject
Although, Stephen is a complete and utter asshole. I don't care how charming an ice skater he is, but the sexual assaults on women are just disgusting. I'm assuming you're going to go with him doing them as overcompensating cover for his homosexuality, but still... yuck. And while I'm glad Jon is pissed off enough at him to want him to not touch him, it breaks my heart a little to see Jon as a pragmatic, compromising politician to the extent that he doesn't call the cops himself and sue on behalf of his female employees.
Anyway. I'm interested to see how you play this out.
no subject
Without excusing Stephen's actions, I don't think he's quite hit "call the cops" level with any of the women in this story. (Though I'm sure he's lost harassment lawsuits in the past, as has his canon counterpart. (Poor Meg.)) If he were to go farther, Jon would bring the hammer down a whole lot harder.
And thanks ^_^
no subject
no subject
My personal favorite part is the end, when Jon is all "Stephen, please don't touch me," and Stephen's like, "You don't want to be touched? Fine. I will punish you. BY NOT TOUCHING YOU." He's like a very badly behaved five year old.
no subject
Logic has never been Stephen's strong suit XD
And thanks!
no subject
no subject
*snickerfit*
no subject
Please continue this, it's wonderful and silly and well-characterized and I love it!
no subject
Thanks, and no worries: I'm not about to stop writing this stuff any time soon :D
no subject
Thank you for the fic and the giggling!
no subject