Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2010-01-11 11:25 am
scripted_sra) wrote2010-01-11 11:25 am
Fake News (FPF) | Wørdplay | PG | Brian/"Stephen"
Title: Wørdplay
Fandom: Fake News (FPF)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brian/"Stephen"
Summary: Stephen and The Wørd have a chat about Brian.
Word Count: 1,055
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References 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.
A/N: Thank you to my dear friend Abigail, both for the prompt that gave birth to this story, and the beta that resulted in the final product.
Stephen liked to sit at his desk at night, occasionally, after the rest of his staff had gone home. People he could boss around were nice most of the time, but every so often, there was the need to be alone for a little while. He felt calm when he sat here, drinking in the magnificence of his set, and it never failed to ease his worries. At least, it would have, if he had worries that needed easing. He didn’t. Only hypothetical worries were ever eased in his case, because he had no actual worries. That notion in itself was just absurd.
“Worry is nothing more than a sign of weakness,” he said firmly, voicing the thought out loud to drive the point home. He didn’t jump when The Wørd graphic abruptly appeared on the monitor, nor did he question how it was possible, given that the machine was currently off. There was no point, and besides, he was used to it by now. “Get a new dramatic entrance, will you?” he said, rolling his eyes. “That one’s just old.”
Classics Are Classics For A Reason.
“Snob,” Stephen said haughtily, turning his nose upward.
Warning! Irony Levels Reaching Critical Mass.
“You’re not funny,” Stephen said, pursing his lips.
You’re Sitting In A Dark Room Lying To Yourself And Arguing With A Sentient, Vaguely-Anthropomorphic Bullet Point. You’re Going To Throw Stones?
“I do not lie,” said Stephen, in a tone that would’ve been indignant, if his indignation would’ve mattered. The problem with sentient, vaguely-anthropomorphic bullet points was that you couldn’t fire them. They also couldn’t be intimidated, which sucked. “Even if I did, I would never lie to someone as important as myself.”
I Hope Your Pants Are Flame-Retardant.
“Oh, shut up,” Stephen snapped, rolling his eyes again. “You think you’re clever. Like you know everything. I swear, you’re almost as bad as Jon.”
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InsultBackfire
“Geek,” he said, snorting.
I Can Link To It Again.
“Whatever,” Stephen said. “You don’t know anything. Don’t act like you do.”
Two Words: Brian Williams.
“Shut up,” Stephen said again. He paused for a minute, and then, “What about him? What do you think you know?”
Bet He Could Deliver Your News Any Day, If You Know What I Mean.
“That’s not a euphemism,” Stephen said, annoyed. “You’re just making things up.” He glared. “I don’t care about Brian Williams. First of all, I am 100% heterosexual—”
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TransparentCloset
“—and second of all,” Stephen continued, pointedly ignoring that ridiculous slight to his character, “he’s not even from Fox!”
I’m Sure He’d Be Willing To Do A Little Roleplay, If You Wanted.
“Shut up again,” Stephen said, but it was half-hearted. “You never listen to me.”
I Listen. I Usually Just Disregard Most Of It.
“You just like to be mean to me.” Stephen crossed his arms and planted them on his desk, resting his head on top of them. “It’s not like stupid Brian Williams is that great, anyway.”
Dude, We’re Talking About BriWi Here. That’s Blasphemy.
“Whatever,” Stephen said, a trace of a sulk forming on his features. “Don’t act like I don’t have a good reason to think that. I do.”
Care To Share With The Class?
“Why should I?” Stephen demanded. “You don’t really care. I know you don’t. I can tell.”
I’m The One With The Limited-Telepathy Gimmick, Here.
“Fine, you want to know?” Stephen asked, narrowing his eyes. “He didn’t even flirt with me!” he exclaimed, sighing explosively. “He goes on The Daily Show and flirts with Jon all the time, but he comes on my show and what happens? Nothing! What, like I’m not good enough for him?” Stephen glared intensely at the monitor. “There. Happy?”
Never Have I Been More Ecstatic.
“I knew you were just going to mock me.”
Okay, Okay, Seriously, Folks...If That’s Your Only Problem, Well...
“Well, what?” Stephen demanded. “Spit it out!”
Then You’re An Idiot.
Stephen glared again. “Shut up.”
“I haven’t said anything yet,” said a voice over to his right, the speaker himself still hidden in the shadows; The Wørd graphic vanished from the monitor and Stephen jumped, eyes wide, until he realized that he knew that voice.
“Brian?” Stephen asked, confused, and sure enough, Brian Williams slowly approached his desk. Stephen absolutely did not notice how attractive he looked in jeans and a button-down shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“I tried calling you a couple times,” Brian told him. “No answer. So I called Jon and asked where you might be. He said to check here, that you stay late sometimes to unwind.”
“Oh,” Stephen said, still pretty confused. He didn’t know why Brian would be calling him. “What did you want?”
Brian smiled handsomely. “Dinner, to start. Is your coat in your office?” he asked curiously, gesturing in that direction.
“Wait, dinner? What?”
“Dinner. A meal served in the evening. You’ve heard of it?” Brian’s eyes were mischievous.
“You and me? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah. A date.” Brian smirked. “You know. Generally two people, a romantic setting, food is usually shared, and if it goes well, there’s sex afterwards. Your coat?”
“Yeah, it’s in my—wait, hold on a second!” Stephen said indignantly, following Brian, who had started in the direction of his office without waiting for Stephen to finish his sentence. “You want to go on a date with me?”
Brian gave him an amused look as they reached his office. “Isn’t it obvious by now? Get your coat. I have a place in mind that I think you’re going to like.”
Stephen blinked. He thought about protesting, telling Brian off for making such a spurious assumption about his character, but for some reason, almost all he could think about was The Wørd calling him an idiot. It was almost all because his mind had started conjuring images about what sex with Brian might be like from the moment he’d mentioned it, and they were pretty distracting. He flushed, grabbing his coat. “Okay. Let’s go,” he said, locking his office door behind him, before they headed back toward the set and to the hallway leading to the exit. Brian left first, but Stephen lingered, glancing back at his desk over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said quietly, and the flash of blue light he got in response seemed approving.
Fandom: Fake News (FPF)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brian/"Stephen"
Summary: Stephen and The Wørd have a chat about Brian.
Word Count: 1,055
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References 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.
A/N: Thank you to my dear friend Abigail, both for the prompt that gave birth to this story, and the beta that resulted in the final product.
Stephen liked to sit at his desk at night, occasionally, after the rest of his staff had gone home. People he could boss around were nice most of the time, but every so often, there was the need to be alone for a little while. He felt calm when he sat here, drinking in the magnificence of his set, and it never failed to ease his worries. At least, it would have, if he had worries that needed easing. He didn’t. Only hypothetical worries were ever eased in his case, because he had no actual worries. That notion in itself was just absurd.
“Worry is nothing more than a sign of weakness,” he said firmly, voicing the thought out loud to drive the point home. He didn’t jump when The Wørd graphic abruptly appeared on the monitor, nor did he question how it was possible, given that the machine was currently off. There was no point, and besides, he was used to it by now. “Get a new dramatic entrance, will you?” he said, rolling his eyes. “That one’s just old.”
Classics Are Classics For A Reason.
“Snob,” Stephen said haughtily, turning his nose upward.
Warning! Irony Levels Reaching Critical Mass.
“You’re not funny,” Stephen said, pursing his lips.
You’re Sitting In A Dark Room Lying To Yourself And Arguing With A Sentient, Vaguely-Anthropomorphic Bullet Point. You’re Going To Throw Stones?
“I do not lie,” said Stephen, in a tone that would’ve been indignant, if his indignation would’ve mattered. The problem with sentient, vaguely-anthropomorphic bullet points was that you couldn’t fire them. They also couldn’t be intimidated, which sucked. “Even if I did, I would never lie to someone as important as myself.”
I Hope Your Pants Are Flame-Retardant.
“Oh, shut up,” Stephen snapped, rolling his eyes again. “You think you’re clever. Like you know everything. I swear, you’re almost as bad as Jon.”
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InsultBackfire
“Geek,” he said, snorting.
I Can Link To It Again.
“Whatever,” Stephen said. “You don’t know anything. Don’t act like you do.”
Two Words: Brian Williams.
“Shut up,” Stephen said again. He paused for a minute, and then, “What about him? What do you think you know?”
Bet He Could Deliver Your News Any Day, If You Know What I Mean.
“That’s not a euphemism,” Stephen said, annoyed. “You’re just making things up.” He glared. “I don’t care about Brian Williams. First of all, I am 100% heterosexual—”
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TransparentCloset
“—and second of all,” Stephen continued, pointedly ignoring that ridiculous slight to his character, “he’s not even from Fox!”
I’m Sure He’d Be Willing To Do A Little Roleplay, If You Wanted.
“Shut up again,” Stephen said, but it was half-hearted. “You never listen to me.”
I Listen. I Usually Just Disregard Most Of It.
“You just like to be mean to me.” Stephen crossed his arms and planted them on his desk, resting his head on top of them. “It’s not like stupid Brian Williams is that great, anyway.”
Dude, We’re Talking About BriWi Here. That’s Blasphemy.
“Whatever,” Stephen said, a trace of a sulk forming on his features. “Don’t act like I don’t have a good reason to think that. I do.”
Care To Share With The Class?
“Why should I?” Stephen demanded. “You don’t really care. I know you don’t. I can tell.”
I’m The One With The Limited-Telepathy Gimmick, Here.
“Fine, you want to know?” Stephen asked, narrowing his eyes. “He didn’t even flirt with me!” he exclaimed, sighing explosively. “He goes on The Daily Show and flirts with Jon all the time, but he comes on my show and what happens? Nothing! What, like I’m not good enough for him?” Stephen glared intensely at the monitor. “There. Happy?”
Never Have I Been More Ecstatic.
“I knew you were just going to mock me.”
Okay, Okay, Seriously, Folks...If That’s Your Only Problem, Well...
“Well, what?” Stephen demanded. “Spit it out!”
Then You’re An Idiot.
Stephen glared again. “Shut up.”
“I haven’t said anything yet,” said a voice over to his right, the speaker himself still hidden in the shadows; The Wørd graphic vanished from the monitor and Stephen jumped, eyes wide, until he realized that he knew that voice.
“Brian?” Stephen asked, confused, and sure enough, Brian Williams slowly approached his desk. Stephen absolutely did not notice how attractive he looked in jeans and a button-down shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“I tried calling you a couple times,” Brian told him. “No answer. So I called Jon and asked where you might be. He said to check here, that you stay late sometimes to unwind.”
“Oh,” Stephen said, still pretty confused. He didn’t know why Brian would be calling him. “What did you want?”
Brian smiled handsomely. “Dinner, to start. Is your coat in your office?” he asked curiously, gesturing in that direction.
“Wait, dinner? What?”
“Dinner. A meal served in the evening. You’ve heard of it?” Brian’s eyes were mischievous.
“You and me? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah. A date.” Brian smirked. “You know. Generally two people, a romantic setting, food is usually shared, and if it goes well, there’s sex afterwards. Your coat?”
“Yeah, it’s in my—wait, hold on a second!” Stephen said indignantly, following Brian, who had started in the direction of his office without waiting for Stephen to finish his sentence. “You want to go on a date with me?”
Brian gave him an amused look as they reached his office. “Isn’t it obvious by now? Get your coat. I have a place in mind that I think you’re going to like.”
Stephen blinked. He thought about protesting, telling Brian off for making such a spurious assumption about his character, but for some reason, almost all he could think about was The Wørd calling him an idiot. It was almost all because his mind had started conjuring images about what sex with Brian might be like from the moment he’d mentioned it, and they were pretty distracting. He flushed, grabbing his coat. “Okay. Let’s go,” he said, locking his office door behind him, before they headed back toward the set and to the hallway leading to the exit. Brian left first, but Stephen lingered, glancing back at his desk over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said quietly, and the flash of blue light he got in response seemed approving.
no subject