solarbaby614 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
solarbaby614) wrote2012-02-12 07:03 pm
solarbaby614) wrote2012-02-12 07:03 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: But What Concerns Me
Title: But What Concerns Me
Author:solarbaby614
Word Count: 1102
Pairing(s): Party Poison/Gerard
Summary: It figures that the first real chance that Gerard gets with the station goes all to hell very quickly.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All I own is the plot.
Author's Notes: Written forakamine_chan on ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bandom_meme for the prompt "Party Poison/Gerard, Does the television make you feel the pills you ate?"
It figures that the first real chance that Gerard gets with the station goes all to hell very quickly.
And the thing is, it really isn’t news that he’s reporting on, just some fluff piece about the New and Improved draculoid patrols that are supposed to make people feel all safe and protected but he’s just so happy not to be sitting behind a desk filing papers that he jumps at the chance to get outside, no matter how boring or tedious the story.
Gerard manages to get there on time (early actually but he spends fifteen minutes outside in his car arguing with Mikey about whether his bathing habits could or could not be considered marginally unsafe and what the standards are for measuring that) and he’s completely prepared to get this done right. He’s lucky too; somehow he’s got Bob as a cameraman, even though he’s usually gone off with one of the lead reporters. Gerard guesses that he drew the short straw.
“I volunteered for this, jackass,” Bob tells him when he says as much as they enter the building.
Maybe, just maybe, if he does this well enough he’ll have more of a chance to get out from behind editing desk and do something real. Unfortunately, things have never quite worked out all that well for him in the past. It was actually how he ended up with the job currently has other than the one he was after. (The building numbers looked similar, okay? And he had already been running late after dumping coffee on his dress shirt.)
So it really shouldn’t have come of as much of a surprise as it did when the alarms when off right as the interview with the head of the New and Improved patrols, who introduced himself as Drac 421 even though his name tag said Marcus, began.
He just gave a sigh as 421 jumped up, looking panicked, and rushed outside. “I guess we’ll just wait here then,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead as tension starts to build between his eyes.
Gerard should probably be more worried, if the way the patrols are running down the hall are any indication but he figures he’s safer here than he is outside, in their way, and--- yep, that’s gun fire he hears.
Bob, who he’s seen stand in a burning building looking as steady as ever, actually starts to look concerned and he pokes his head out the door. He’s wide eyed when he glances back at Gerard and tells him, “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t get shot!” Gerard calls after him and Bob just flips him off in response. He starts to worry, even as a voice inside his head tells him that he shouldn’t. Bob’s sturdy.
The zap-zap of the gunshots are getting closer, thankfully coming from the direction Bob didn’t go. He’s ready to get up and do something like hide or call the station when the door slams open and a form scrambles into the room.
It’s not Bob, that’s for damn sure. The first thing Gerard sees is color. Blue and red and a slight blur of yellow that makes him yearn for the art classes he used to take in high school. His teacher had always encouraged his desire to create freeform art before she was send in for recommissioning. He missed her.
The person spins around, searching and gives a jerk when his gaze lands on Gerard. “What the fuck?”
Gerard can appreciate the sentiment because he’s looking at himself. Well, not exactly. Gone is the nicely cropped black hair and best whites and it’s like he’s seeing himself in technicolor mirror.
The man sort of blinks before skirting around him towards the desk, his grip tight on the gun at his side. Gerard can’t seem to say anything, isn’t sure what to say, even as the man starts to dig around at the desk. He’s starting to look frustrated, pulling out drawers and dumping them out when Gerard finally finds his voice. “Who are you?”
“Party Poison,” the man says, not even looking up. He grins and gives a triumphant noise as he appears to find whatever it is he’s looking for. There’s a silver disk in his grasp but Gerard can’t see what’s so special about it. It looks like every other data disk what he’s ever seen. He supposes it’s about the information on it.
“You’re from outside the safe zone,” Gerard realizes, even though he feels stupid for just realizing it. Maybe he isn’t cut out for this job.
Party Poison grins at him, moving back around the desk. “Got it in one, pretty baby.” And Gerard backs away until his back hits the wall and the outsider crowds up into his space. “And just who exactly are you?” he says as he leans in and Gerard can feel his warm breath against his face.
“Ge-Gerard,” he stutters, frozen.
“Gerard,” Party tries out, looking thoughtful. His eye catches the press badge attached to his shirt and he pulls it off. “Well, well, well, a reporter as well.”
“Not really,” responds Gerard.
The grin on Party Poison’s face widens and he leans forward, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. It’s not his first kiss but it’s the first one he can remember that happens for reasons other than because it’s expected of him. And it’s good too. He presses back and Party moans against him, biting his lip before backing away.
Gerard blinks at him, feeling dazed.
Party tucks the badge into the pocket of his blue jacket and reaches out, running a hand through Gerard’s hair in a surprisingly tender gesture. “I’ll definitely be seeing you again, pretty.” And then he’s gone and Gerard slides to the floor.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there but then the door opens again (carefully, not slammed) and Bob’s back, holding a drac issued gun in his hand, looking around wildly.
Bob looks a little singed, and there’s a nasty looking hole in the side of his jacket but no visible wounds, thankfully. Gerard bets most of the people who ended up in the hallways didn’t end up in quite as good condition. He knows that Bob used to be SCARECROW before he worked at the station but it never really clicked in Gerard’s mind until this moment.
“What the hell happened to you?” Bob demands, kneeling beside him, checking him for wounds.
Gerard would normally bristle at the tone but he can see the genuine concern that his friend has for him so he just shakes his head. “I have no idea.”
Author:
solarbaby614 Word Count: 1102
Pairing(s): Party Poison/Gerard
Summary: It figures that the first real chance that Gerard gets with the station goes all to hell very quickly.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All I own is the plot.
Author's Notes: Written for
akamine_chan on bandom_meme for the prompt "Party Poison/Gerard, Does the television make you feel the pills you ate?" It figures that the first real chance that Gerard gets with the station goes all to hell very quickly.
And the thing is, it really isn’t news that he’s reporting on, just some fluff piece about the New and Improved draculoid patrols that are supposed to make people feel all safe and protected but he’s just so happy not to be sitting behind a desk filing papers that he jumps at the chance to get outside, no matter how boring or tedious the story.
Gerard manages to get there on time (early actually but he spends fifteen minutes outside in his car arguing with Mikey about whether his bathing habits could or could not be considered marginally unsafe and what the standards are for measuring that) and he’s completely prepared to get this done right. He’s lucky too; somehow he’s got Bob as a cameraman, even though he’s usually gone off with one of the lead reporters. Gerard guesses that he drew the short straw.
“I volunteered for this, jackass,” Bob tells him when he says as much as they enter the building.
Maybe, just maybe, if he does this well enough he’ll have more of a chance to get out from behind editing desk and do something real. Unfortunately, things have never quite worked out all that well for him in the past. It was actually how he ended up with the job currently has other than the one he was after. (The building numbers looked similar, okay? And he had already been running late after dumping coffee on his dress shirt.)
So it really shouldn’t have come of as much of a surprise as it did when the alarms when off right as the interview with the head of the New and Improved patrols, who introduced himself as Drac 421 even though his name tag said Marcus, began.
He just gave a sigh as 421 jumped up, looking panicked, and rushed outside. “I guess we’ll just wait here then,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead as tension starts to build between his eyes.
Gerard should probably be more worried, if the way the patrols are running down the hall are any indication but he figures he’s safer here than he is outside, in their way, and--- yep, that’s gun fire he hears.
Bob, who he’s seen stand in a burning building looking as steady as ever, actually starts to look concerned and he pokes his head out the door. He’s wide eyed when he glances back at Gerard and tells him, “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t get shot!” Gerard calls after him and Bob just flips him off in response. He starts to worry, even as a voice inside his head tells him that he shouldn’t. Bob’s sturdy.
The zap-zap of the gunshots are getting closer, thankfully coming from the direction Bob didn’t go. He’s ready to get up and do something like hide or call the station when the door slams open and a form scrambles into the room.
It’s not Bob, that’s for damn sure. The first thing Gerard sees is color. Blue and red and a slight blur of yellow that makes him yearn for the art classes he used to take in high school. His teacher had always encouraged his desire to create freeform art before she was send in for recommissioning. He missed her.
The person spins around, searching and gives a jerk when his gaze lands on Gerard. “What the fuck?”
Gerard can appreciate the sentiment because he’s looking at himself. Well, not exactly. Gone is the nicely cropped black hair and best whites and it’s like he’s seeing himself in technicolor mirror.
The man sort of blinks before skirting around him towards the desk, his grip tight on the gun at his side. Gerard can’t seem to say anything, isn’t sure what to say, even as the man starts to dig around at the desk. He’s starting to look frustrated, pulling out drawers and dumping them out when Gerard finally finds his voice. “Who are you?”
“Party Poison,” the man says, not even looking up. He grins and gives a triumphant noise as he appears to find whatever it is he’s looking for. There’s a silver disk in his grasp but Gerard can’t see what’s so special about it. It looks like every other data disk what he’s ever seen. He supposes it’s about the information on it.
“You’re from outside the safe zone,” Gerard realizes, even though he feels stupid for just realizing it. Maybe he isn’t cut out for this job.
Party Poison grins at him, moving back around the desk. “Got it in one, pretty baby.” And Gerard backs away until his back hits the wall and the outsider crowds up into his space. “And just who exactly are you?” he says as he leans in and Gerard can feel his warm breath against his face.
“Ge-Gerard,” he stutters, frozen.
“Gerard,” Party tries out, looking thoughtful. His eye catches the press badge attached to his shirt and he pulls it off. “Well, well, well, a reporter as well.”
“Not really,” responds Gerard.
The grin on Party Poison’s face widens and he leans forward, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. It’s not his first kiss but it’s the first one he can remember that happens for reasons other than because it’s expected of him. And it’s good too. He presses back and Party moans against him, biting his lip before backing away.
Gerard blinks at him, feeling dazed.
Party tucks the badge into the pocket of his blue jacket and reaches out, running a hand through Gerard’s hair in a surprisingly tender gesture. “I’ll definitely be seeing you again, pretty.” And then he’s gone and Gerard slides to the floor.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there but then the door opens again (carefully, not slammed) and Bob’s back, holding a drac issued gun in his hand, looking around wildly.
Bob looks a little singed, and there’s a nasty looking hole in the side of his jacket but no visible wounds, thankfully. Gerard bets most of the people who ended up in the hallways didn’t end up in quite as good condition. He knows that Bob used to be SCARECROW before he worked at the station but it never really clicked in Gerard’s mind until this moment.
“What the hell happened to you?” Bob demands, kneeling beside him, checking him for wounds.
Gerard would normally bristle at the tone but he can see the genuine concern that his friend has for him so he just shakes his head. “I have no idea.”