Going Underground (Mythklok Interstitial)
Sep. 19th, 2011 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Going Underground (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: College memories.
Warnings: Cover songs
Notes: Just so it's clear, this isn't a filk, this is an actual song. This one is for avalonjones.
Many years ago....
He had told her almost immediately: he liked women, just didn't fancy them. That was fine. It made things simpler.
And they had other things in common. Two, from so far away, not quite fitting in.
Two people who had packed along a guitar on an international flight.
They had found a good spot at Picadelly Circus, but it was best to keep moving, the bobbies got wise if you were always in one place.
"Bobbies." It was terribly cute. The people, they were so darned cute.
They set up quickly. Two guitars. It only took a bit of playing to get coins thumping into the cases.
He started singing. He hated his voice. But he had the better voice.
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Till Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
Now was when the trickle of silver coins became a rain. Though, that wasn't the point, of course.
And people had stopped. A small crowd.
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you
She joined him for the chorus.
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
"Transport police," she whispered. She was already closing her case. "Ganesh? Ganesh!"
He had been looking at something else. Someone else. He glanced at her.
And then they were packed. And running.
"Did you see him?"
"Who?"
He was quiet.
"No one, I guess," was all he said.
And then they jumped on the train. And were gone.
There were classes. It was kind of a joke here. English kids, they spent their time in the pub, mulling over warm beer and football. Maybe an hour before exams actually studying. Best mates. Boyfriends and girlfriends.
She had expected to be special here, something unusual. Rare as hen's teeth.
But she was common as sharks teeth. Someone you'd never notice.
Good and bad.
She had to drag him out. He'd grown strangely reluctant. It was strange. Was it the cops? She couldn't imagine arrest would be a problem. Not with his family. They weren't just old. They were the oldest.
They found their place at Picadilly Circus. Two guitars. They both had many years of practice. Clasical, of course. Their styles blended well. They warmed up with a couple of instrumentals. It was bustling tonight. A small crowd.
A request. A soft, hesitant voice. Someone in the back.
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you
The coin clinked against all the others.
She looked up as the chorus began. But not at Ganesh.
He was looking off, to the right.
They both sang.
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
Out of the corner of her eye. A back. That's all it was. Someone in a hurry. Retreating around the corner.
Someone....
She had never seen that much power.
A little while ago....
She looked up when the computer beeped at her.
It was just another article up on the newsfeed, not an email.
She didn't get a lot of email, not these days.
She had been packing the house. But the stereo was still out. And so was the laptop.
One too many people had said, "You look just like you did in college." Or, more rarely, "at university." Decades ago, it had been said with approval. Then, in later years, mild disbelief. And now, the phrase was blurted out as a question.
It was time to move on.
She was bored of packing up, so she hit the escape button on the thin laptop. This wasn't exactly a news item, it was a photograph. One that was getting a bit of attention.
She blinked. The being. The bearer of magic. The retreating back.
She had seen him, recognized him, in the news a few years back. A being of some importance. Tended to avoid the spotlight.
That was when she had set the alert. Set the sensors out to listening.
Sometimes you would get a glimpse. Out of the corner of an eye. Before the bodyguards knocked you over, broke your camera, stole your memory card.
But here he was. His image. Stopped. Someone had taken him and frozen him in his tracks. Here he was, still and vulnerable.
Reaching up.
Brushing a stray lock of dark hair out of someone's eyes.
Her world stopped too. She peered at the title. Scattered electrons. Passed along from someone, from someone else, from someone else. Blogged and reblogged. By people who watched. People who wondered.
"WHO IS THIS???"
She smiled. And sat down. And began to type.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: College memories.
Warnings: Cover songs
Notes: Just so it's clear, this isn't a filk, this is an actual song. This one is for avalonjones.
Many years ago....
He had told her almost immediately: he liked women, just didn't fancy them. That was fine. It made things simpler.
And they had other things in common. Two, from so far away, not quite fitting in.
Two people who had packed along a guitar on an international flight.
They had found a good spot at Picadelly Circus, but it was best to keep moving, the bobbies got wise if you were always in one place.
"Bobbies." It was terribly cute. The people, they were so darned cute.
They set up quickly. Two guitars. It only took a bit of playing to get coins thumping into the cases.
He started singing. He hated his voice. But he had the better voice.
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Till Eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
Now was when the trickle of silver coins became a rain. Though, that wasn't the point, of course.
And people had stopped. A small crowd.
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you
She joined him for the chorus.
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
"Transport police," she whispered. She was already closing her case. "Ganesh? Ganesh!"
He had been looking at something else. Someone else. He glanced at her.
And then they were packed. And running.
"Did you see him?"
"Who?"
He was quiet.
"No one, I guess," was all he said.
And then they jumped on the train. And were gone.
There were classes. It was kind of a joke here. English kids, they spent their time in the pub, mulling over warm beer and football. Maybe an hour before exams actually studying. Best mates. Boyfriends and girlfriends.
She had expected to be special here, something unusual. Rare as hen's teeth.
But she was common as sharks teeth. Someone you'd never notice.
Good and bad.
She had to drag him out. He'd grown strangely reluctant. It was strange. Was it the cops? She couldn't imagine arrest would be a problem. Not with his family. They weren't just old. They were the oldest.
They found their place at Picadilly Circus. Two guitars. They both had many years of practice. Clasical, of course. Their styles blended well. They warmed up with a couple of instrumentals. It was bustling tonight. A small crowd.
A request. A soft, hesitant voice. Someone in the back.
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you
The coin clinked against all the others.
She looked up as the chorus began. But not at Ganesh.
He was looking off, to the right.
They both sang.
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
Out of the corner of her eye. A back. That's all it was. Someone in a hurry. Retreating around the corner.
Someone....
She had never seen that much power.
A little while ago....
She looked up when the computer beeped at her.
It was just another article up on the newsfeed, not an email.
She didn't get a lot of email, not these days.
She had been packing the house. But the stereo was still out. And so was the laptop.
One too many people had said, "You look just like you did in college." Or, more rarely, "at university." Decades ago, it had been said with approval. Then, in later years, mild disbelief. And now, the phrase was blurted out as a question.
It was time to move on.
She was bored of packing up, so she hit the escape button on the thin laptop. This wasn't exactly a news item, it was a photograph. One that was getting a bit of attention.
She blinked. The being. The bearer of magic. The retreating back.
She had seen him, recognized him, in the news a few years back. A being of some importance. Tended to avoid the spotlight.
That was when she had set the alert. Set the sensors out to listening.
Sometimes you would get a glimpse. Out of the corner of an eye. Before the bodyguards knocked you over, broke your camera, stole your memory card.
But here he was. His image. Stopped. Someone had taken him and frozen him in his tracks. Here he was, still and vulnerable.
Reaching up.
Brushing a stray lock of dark hair out of someone's eyes.
Her world stopped too. She peered at the title. Scattered electrons. Passed along from someone, from someone else, from someone else. Blogged and reblogged. By people who watched. People who wondered.
"WHO IS THIS???"
She smiled. And sat down. And began to type.
