![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ideserveyou.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
booshslashhavenHello again all... I'm back, and this time I'm planning to stick around. It's been a bit quiet in here lately but I'm hoping that the boys' planned reunion will change all that! Meanwhile I have a backlog of scrawls to transcribe from assorted notebooks, plus a long curtainfic in my head that should probably stay there, and a few other ideas and notes that might or might not get written eventually...
But you don't want to hear about me. You want to hear about this. At least, I hope you do. But even if you don't, I'm going to post it anyway!
Title: A Bit Rubbish, The Extra Bit
Summary: Dennis makes an important announcement; Naboo makes two important discoveries.
Rating: PG-13 (nothing drastic: language, drug use)
Warnings: This is ickily soppy and fluffy even by my standards.
Length: about 2500 words
Spoilers: And they all lived happily ever after. (I did warn you!)
Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine, more’s the pity, and I make no profit from writing about them, it’s just something I do.
Notes: The box is there for a reason. This fic isn’t. But once I’d thought it, I couldn’t un-think it...
A Bit Rubbish, The Extra Bit
It’s a beautiful Xooberon spring day: the suns high and clear, the blue fronds of the featherpalms fluttering and rustling in the ocean breeze.
Naboo drains the last mouthful of his purple cocktail.
Fuck, that’s good. Good to be warm, good to be back home, good to be at a party... and this is quite some party. Way better than that Christmas disaster, although that did turn out OK in the end. I suppose. Good thing we didn’t invite all this lot, though...
The gardens of the Head Shaman’s official residence are thronged with people of all sizes, shapes, genders and colours. It looks as though the entire Shaman Academy has turned up, and then there are all Methuselah’s friends, fans, photographers, stylists and hangers-on... many of them young and handsome men, or pretty girls, but today Dennis and his wife have no eyes for anyone but each other.
Dennis looks great, don’t think I’ve ever seen him so relaxed and confident. And Methuselah is much less scary when she’s smiling, and now she’s grown her hair longer that flowing dress suits her, even though it’s sort-of brown... the sort of colour that Howard would’ve chosen. There’s probably a name for it, I’ll have to ask him.
Naboo glances across the lawn to where Howard and Vince are standing by the fountain. Howard has a big daft grin plastered permanently across his face; occasionally he glances down at the ring on his left hand, and then at Vince, as if either of them might disappear at any moment.
Vince is in his element, of course. He loves parties. He’s chatting away to anyone and everyone, his hair immaculately root-boosted and feathered and tinted (it took him a week), his hand never letting go of Howard’s arm.
‘They look happy,’ a gruff voice says in Naboo’s ear. ‘That good to see.’
‘Yeah.’ Naboo turns and smiles at his familiar. ‘Yeah, it is...’
‘Bollo!’ a high voice squeaks. ‘Haven’t seen you in ages. Come an’ meet the girlfriend.’
A bat is flittering round the gorilla’s ears.
‘Not now, Chrissy. Now not a good time.’ Bollo’s face creases into a worried frown.
‘Go on, ya berk,’ Naboo tells him. ‘I’m fine. Saboo’ll be back in a minute, he won’t wanna miss the boss’s speech. Say hi to Barry for me.’
‘Alright then.’ Bollo shambles off towards a bunch of bespectacled, red-haired shamen whose familiars – all airborne – range from the tiny bat to a twelve-foot red dragon.
And here comes Saboo making his way back from the bar, his tall figure weaving gracefully through the crowd. A little twinge of anxiety gnaws at Naboo’s insides.
Bollo isn’t the only one who’s worried.
Saboo’s been so quiet lately. Something’s on his mind. Didn’t pick up on it for a while, what with all the excitement of Howard and Vince announcing their engagement and then Dennis convening this gathering.
Maybe when the party’s over I might suggest he and I stay on here for a couple more days, spend some time together, maybe rent one of the cabins by the beach and just enjoy the warmth and the quiet. Perhaps Saboo’s just in need of some downtime: there’s been a fuck of a lot of organizing to do on Dennis’s behalf to get this event to actually happen. The big man may be magic, but he’s hopeless at practicalities...
‘Whoever suggested we let Tony Harrison run the bar must have been out of his fucking mind.’ Saboo is fuming as he hands Naboo another glass.
Naboo giggles. ‘Yeah. You were. I remember that planning meeting. Parts of it anyway... Cheers.’
Saboo smiles as they clink glasses, but he won’t meet Naboo’s eyes.
Naboo takes a deep breath. ‘Saboo...’
But he is interrupted by a squeal of feedback from the loudspeakers of the public address system. ‘Is this thing on?’ Dennis’s voice booms anxiously.
Dennis and Methuselah are standing hand-in-hand on the terrace in front of the house; Dennis is peering at the microphone in his hand as though afraid it might bite him. Methuselah whispers something in his ear, and he smiles. ‘Ah. Apparently it is. Ladies and gentlemen and all those in between – Friends – I bid you welcome.’
There is a short silence while the Head Shaman rummages through the pockets of his voluminous ceremonial robe and produces a crumpled handkerchief.
‘Ah.’ He wipes his brow and puts the handkerchief away again. ‘I had, um, written a substantial speech for this important occasion but I, er, seem to have mislaid my notes.’
‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ Saboo mutters.
‘But no matter. Now that I see you all, I realise that what I have to say is actually very simple.’
‘Like you, D-Man,’ Tony cackles.
A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd, but Dennis is unperturbed. ‘I am a simple man, yes. And I am simply very fortunate to have so many friends, and most fortunate of all to have such a beautiful and patient wife. My dear’ – he turns to her – ‘you were generous enough to give me a second chance. A new start. In token of which I would like to renew the vows we made when first we bound ourselves to each other – the vows I bent and broke and brushed aside – if you are willing – ’
He chokes a little. Naboo brushes away a tear.
I was a part of that bending and breaking... I’m just glad I was part of the mending as well.
Methuselah puts a finger to Dennis’s lips. ‘Of course I will. A new start, yes. Leave the past in the past, and with all our friends to bear witness, let us remake our bond. Where is our Moderator?’
The ancient ex-Head Shaman shuffles forward to officiate.
Just as well the secular ceremony is short and simple. Poor old sod doesn’t look as though he’d make it to the end of anything long and complicated. Needs a trip to the Fountain of Youth if you ask me.
Everybody cheers as Dennis and Methuselah seal their re-made bond, first with a formal kiss, and then with a much longer and more informal one.
I remember how that feels...
Naboo sighs, and looks away. He can see Howard and Vince holding hands and smiling; Vince notices him watching them, and grins.
Then Methuselah takes the microphone and steps forward. ‘Thank you, Dennis. And thank you all for being with us. I will not waste much of your time. I know some of you have serious drinking to do, don’t you, Tony?’
She waits for the laughter and catcalls to subside. ‘We have one more announcement to make. Another new start. My Dennis and I, we are expecting our firstborn in the autumn...’
Whatever else she was going to say is drowned out by a burst of cheering and applause from the audience. Then the band is playing, the champagne is flowing, and Dennis, looking proud but slightly stunned, takes Methuselah’s arm and leads her around the garden, circulating through the crowd of guests, accepting their congratulations. Even Saboo is smiling.
Dennis looms up beside them; Naboo hugs him, hard. ‘Nice one, big man. Listen, lemme know anytime you need a babysitter.’
Saboo snorts derisively.
‘Seriously,’ Naboo says, giving Saboo the finger behind Dennis’s back, ‘I’m a bit of an expert, I ’ad to rear those two human idiots over there, remember? Six soddin’ weeks of changin’ nappies an’ four-hourly feeds before I found an incantation to get ’em back to their proper ages... so anytime, just call me, OK?’
‘Thank you,’ Dennis says gravely.
‘No worries.’ Naboo hugs him again. ‘So happy for ya...’
Dennis feels big and warm and solid. He feels like coming home, like safety and comfort...
Dennis takes a step back, and looks down; his voice is pitched for Naboo’s ears alone. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Dunno exactly.’ There’s no point lying to someone who can see right through you, literally.
‘Man trouble?’
‘Somefink like that.’
‘I thought so. Could see it from across the room.’
Naboo looks up into those knowing pale-blue eyes. ‘You got any magic to fix it?’
Dennis smiles gently. ‘You don’t need magic. It’s very simple, Naboo. Just ask him.’
Before he can explain what this pronouncement means – if he even knows himself – Dennis is hailed by someone else, and lets Naboo go.
Ask Saboo? Ask him what’s wrong? But he might deny that anything’s wrong at all, in which case he’d be lying, and then we’re stuffed; or worse, he might actually tell me what’s wrong, and it might be something that can’t be fixed...
Saboo puts a hand on Naboo’s shoulder. ‘Oh, dry up, you idiot, this is supposed to be a happy day.’ He snorts again. ‘Never thought the D-Man was parent material. Nor the D-Man’s woman, come to that.’
‘Just shows that even the perfect Saboo can be sometimes wrong,’ Methuselah says drily from right beside him, making him jump and look sheepish.
‘I’m sorry,’ he stammers, ‘I – I didn’t mean...’
Naboo winces, waiting for the inevitable blow to fall.
But she is laughing; patting Saboo on the arm. ‘I am not offended, I never thought of myself as mother, either. Even I can be sometimes wrong also. Now, if you do not mind, I should like to borrow your Naboo for a short while, there is something I need to discuss with him. No, not about last Christmas’ – she laughs again – ‘do not look so dismayed, I meant it when I said the past is in the past. I need to ask a favour, that is all. Naboo, if you will please come with me...’
‘Sure.’ Naboo shrugs. ‘Whatever.’
He thinks he hears Saboo mutter something at the same time: ‘he’s not mine,’ perhaps? But there’s no time to ask, Methuselah is taking his arm and leading him firmly out of the crowd.
‘Somewhere quiet,’ she says, ‘let us try the rose garden. This way.’
Naboo follows her through a gate in the hedge and across a green, sunlit lawn edged with flowering rosetrees.
I wonder what the fuck this is about. I know she said the past is past, but...We haven’t talked about that Christmas party, ever. Better try not to say the wrong thing, or she might lose it and hit me. My glass is empty, too... I wonder whether I’m going to get another drink or a decent smoke anytime soon...
There’s a double seat under an archway at the far end, canopied with heavily scented climbing roses; Methuselah sits down and motions Naboo to sit beside her.
‘I know I said this was not to talk about last Christmas.’ She plucks a leaf, twirls it nervously between her slender fingers. ‘But... I do want to thank you, Naboo, thank you for saving our marriage, for showing my Dennis how to be honest with me.’
Naboo sighs inwardly with relief. She’s not going to hit me, then. ‘I’m glad I helped, but I didn’t really do anything.’
‘No.’ She shakes her head vehemently. ‘If it were not for you, we would be separated by now, and this baby that is on the way, he would not be on the way, he would not exist at all.’
‘That’s... quite a responsibility.’
‘It is also a wonderful gift.’ She is smiling now. ‘And in appreciation, we would like to ask you, will you stand mentor to our son when he is born?’
Well. Wasn’t expecting that one. That’ll offend a lot of well-connected Xooberon nobility who will have been hoping for the honour. And am I really up to the job? But if it’s Dennis’s choice...
‘I – well, yes, course I will, but – there’s plenty of other shamen who’ll do a better job, I mean, I don’t even live on-planet and I’m not exactly...’
‘There is no other shaman who has such a link to our family. No-one else we would rather ask. You gave Dennis such good advice. I am certain you will do the same again when it is needed.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Naboo is slightly choked. Must be the perfume from all those flowers.
‘There is something else also.’
‘What?’
‘We would like to name him for you, if you have no objection.’
Naboo chews on his bottom lip. ‘Depends which name. The universe don’t need two Naboos, an’ I’m not bein’ mentor to a boy called Roppity-Poppity...’
‘But Randolph, that is a good name, a fine name.’
‘Yeah, that’d be OK, I s’pose.’
‘Thank you. It is settled, then.’ She puts a hand over her stomach. ‘Randolph it is.’ Then she giggles. ‘I am very pleased, but Dennis’s family will not be. They are so traditional, they disapprove of him marrying extreme sports calendar model, and every firstborn male is always named Dennis. Father, grandfather, great grandfather, Dennis, Dennis, Dennis... But not this time. This time, we break tradition... Oh.’ She catches her breath suddenly.
‘You OK?’
‘I’m fine. Just the baby kicking, I think he hears us. You want to feel him?’
‘Well, I –’ I do want to feel, I want it very much indeed, contact with that small new life that is somehow in some weird way linked with mine. But touching the Head Shaman’s wife... might that be crossing the line?
She grasps his wrist; places his hand on her belly. ‘There. Can you feel him?’
‘I can feel...’ Yes. Yes. The kicking comes again, and oh, I can, I can feel it, can feel everything that’s going on in there, every twitch and heartbeat and... Blimey.
‘What is it?’ She’s looking anxiously into his face. ‘Naboo, what can you feel?’
With regret, he takes his hand away, and is surprised to find his cheeks are wet with tears.
‘I fink, you’re going to be able to make Dennis’s family happy too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean...’ He sniffs, and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his party robe. ‘There’s two in there. Twins. Two boys.’
Methuselah’s eyes are wide. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Absolutely. So you can call one of ’em Dennis after all. The big one.’
‘Dennis Junior and Randolph.’ She is laughing with sheer delight. ‘Randolph and DJ. Oh, Naboo, this is wonderful, we have to go and tell Papa Dennis right now.’
‘Make sure he’s sitting down first.’
‘Do you think your Saboo would stand mentor to DJ?’
‘Dunno. S’pose we could just ask him.’
Just ask him... oh, fuck, of course, how could I be such a blind numpty? I know what Dennis meant now, the question I’ve got to ask Saboo, should have asked him already really, cos he’s been waiting for me to ask it, and hopefully he’ll say yes to her and yes to me and then everything will be all right...
‘Come on, then.’ Methuselah jumps to her feet.
Naboo takes her hand, and together they run back through the sunlit rose garden.
But you don't want to hear about me. You want to hear about this. At least, I hope you do. But even if you don't, I'm going to post it anyway!
Title: A Bit Rubbish, The Extra Bit
Summary: Dennis makes an important announcement; Naboo makes two important discoveries.
Rating: PG-13 (nothing drastic: language, drug use)
Warnings: This is ickily soppy and fluffy even by my standards.
Length: about 2500 words
Spoilers: And they all lived happily ever after. (I did warn you!)
Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine, more’s the pity, and I make no profit from writing about them, it’s just something I do.
Notes: The box is there for a reason. This fic isn’t. But once I’d thought it, I couldn’t un-think it...
A Bit Rubbish, The Extra Bit
It’s a beautiful Xooberon spring day: the suns high and clear, the blue fronds of the featherpalms fluttering and rustling in the ocean breeze.
Naboo drains the last mouthful of his purple cocktail.
Fuck, that’s good. Good to be warm, good to be back home, good to be at a party... and this is quite some party. Way better than that Christmas disaster, although that did turn out OK in the end. I suppose. Good thing we didn’t invite all this lot, though...
The gardens of the Head Shaman’s official residence are thronged with people of all sizes, shapes, genders and colours. It looks as though the entire Shaman Academy has turned up, and then there are all Methuselah’s friends, fans, photographers, stylists and hangers-on... many of them young and handsome men, or pretty girls, but today Dennis and his wife have no eyes for anyone but each other.
Dennis looks great, don’t think I’ve ever seen him so relaxed and confident. And Methuselah is much less scary when she’s smiling, and now she’s grown her hair longer that flowing dress suits her, even though it’s sort-of brown... the sort of colour that Howard would’ve chosen. There’s probably a name for it, I’ll have to ask him.
Naboo glances across the lawn to where Howard and Vince are standing by the fountain. Howard has a big daft grin plastered permanently across his face; occasionally he glances down at the ring on his left hand, and then at Vince, as if either of them might disappear at any moment.
Vince is in his element, of course. He loves parties. He’s chatting away to anyone and everyone, his hair immaculately root-boosted and feathered and tinted (it took him a week), his hand never letting go of Howard’s arm.
‘They look happy,’ a gruff voice says in Naboo’s ear. ‘That good to see.’
‘Yeah.’ Naboo turns and smiles at his familiar. ‘Yeah, it is...’
‘Bollo!’ a high voice squeaks. ‘Haven’t seen you in ages. Come an’ meet the girlfriend.’
A bat is flittering round the gorilla’s ears.
‘Not now, Chrissy. Now not a good time.’ Bollo’s face creases into a worried frown.
‘Go on, ya berk,’ Naboo tells him. ‘I’m fine. Saboo’ll be back in a minute, he won’t wanna miss the boss’s speech. Say hi to Barry for me.’
‘Alright then.’ Bollo shambles off towards a bunch of bespectacled, red-haired shamen whose familiars – all airborne – range from the tiny bat to a twelve-foot red dragon.
And here comes Saboo making his way back from the bar, his tall figure weaving gracefully through the crowd. A little twinge of anxiety gnaws at Naboo’s insides.
Bollo isn’t the only one who’s worried.
Saboo’s been so quiet lately. Something’s on his mind. Didn’t pick up on it for a while, what with all the excitement of Howard and Vince announcing their engagement and then Dennis convening this gathering.
Maybe when the party’s over I might suggest he and I stay on here for a couple more days, spend some time together, maybe rent one of the cabins by the beach and just enjoy the warmth and the quiet. Perhaps Saboo’s just in need of some downtime: there’s been a fuck of a lot of organizing to do on Dennis’s behalf to get this event to actually happen. The big man may be magic, but he’s hopeless at practicalities...
‘Whoever suggested we let Tony Harrison run the bar must have been out of his fucking mind.’ Saboo is fuming as he hands Naboo another glass.
Naboo giggles. ‘Yeah. You were. I remember that planning meeting. Parts of it anyway... Cheers.’
Saboo smiles as they clink glasses, but he won’t meet Naboo’s eyes.
Naboo takes a deep breath. ‘Saboo...’
But he is interrupted by a squeal of feedback from the loudspeakers of the public address system. ‘Is this thing on?’ Dennis’s voice booms anxiously.
Dennis and Methuselah are standing hand-in-hand on the terrace in front of the house; Dennis is peering at the microphone in his hand as though afraid it might bite him. Methuselah whispers something in his ear, and he smiles. ‘Ah. Apparently it is. Ladies and gentlemen and all those in between – Friends – I bid you welcome.’
There is a short silence while the Head Shaman rummages through the pockets of his voluminous ceremonial robe and produces a crumpled handkerchief.
‘Ah.’ He wipes his brow and puts the handkerchief away again. ‘I had, um, written a substantial speech for this important occasion but I, er, seem to have mislaid my notes.’
‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ Saboo mutters.
‘But no matter. Now that I see you all, I realise that what I have to say is actually very simple.’
‘Like you, D-Man,’ Tony cackles.
A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd, but Dennis is unperturbed. ‘I am a simple man, yes. And I am simply very fortunate to have so many friends, and most fortunate of all to have such a beautiful and patient wife. My dear’ – he turns to her – ‘you were generous enough to give me a second chance. A new start. In token of which I would like to renew the vows we made when first we bound ourselves to each other – the vows I bent and broke and brushed aside – if you are willing – ’
He chokes a little. Naboo brushes away a tear.
I was a part of that bending and breaking... I’m just glad I was part of the mending as well.
Methuselah puts a finger to Dennis’s lips. ‘Of course I will. A new start, yes. Leave the past in the past, and with all our friends to bear witness, let us remake our bond. Where is our Moderator?’
The ancient ex-Head Shaman shuffles forward to officiate.
Just as well the secular ceremony is short and simple. Poor old sod doesn’t look as though he’d make it to the end of anything long and complicated. Needs a trip to the Fountain of Youth if you ask me.
Everybody cheers as Dennis and Methuselah seal their re-made bond, first with a formal kiss, and then with a much longer and more informal one.
I remember how that feels...
Naboo sighs, and looks away. He can see Howard and Vince holding hands and smiling; Vince notices him watching them, and grins.
Then Methuselah takes the microphone and steps forward. ‘Thank you, Dennis. And thank you all for being with us. I will not waste much of your time. I know some of you have serious drinking to do, don’t you, Tony?’
She waits for the laughter and catcalls to subside. ‘We have one more announcement to make. Another new start. My Dennis and I, we are expecting our firstborn in the autumn...’
Whatever else she was going to say is drowned out by a burst of cheering and applause from the audience. Then the band is playing, the champagne is flowing, and Dennis, looking proud but slightly stunned, takes Methuselah’s arm and leads her around the garden, circulating through the crowd of guests, accepting their congratulations. Even Saboo is smiling.
Dennis looms up beside them; Naboo hugs him, hard. ‘Nice one, big man. Listen, lemme know anytime you need a babysitter.’
Saboo snorts derisively.
‘Seriously,’ Naboo says, giving Saboo the finger behind Dennis’s back, ‘I’m a bit of an expert, I ’ad to rear those two human idiots over there, remember? Six soddin’ weeks of changin’ nappies an’ four-hourly feeds before I found an incantation to get ’em back to their proper ages... so anytime, just call me, OK?’
‘Thank you,’ Dennis says gravely.
‘No worries.’ Naboo hugs him again. ‘So happy for ya...’
Dennis feels big and warm and solid. He feels like coming home, like safety and comfort...
Dennis takes a step back, and looks down; his voice is pitched for Naboo’s ears alone. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Dunno exactly.’ There’s no point lying to someone who can see right through you, literally.
‘Man trouble?’
‘Somefink like that.’
‘I thought so. Could see it from across the room.’
Naboo looks up into those knowing pale-blue eyes. ‘You got any magic to fix it?’
Dennis smiles gently. ‘You don’t need magic. It’s very simple, Naboo. Just ask him.’
Before he can explain what this pronouncement means – if he even knows himself – Dennis is hailed by someone else, and lets Naboo go.
Ask Saboo? Ask him what’s wrong? But he might deny that anything’s wrong at all, in which case he’d be lying, and then we’re stuffed; or worse, he might actually tell me what’s wrong, and it might be something that can’t be fixed...
Saboo puts a hand on Naboo’s shoulder. ‘Oh, dry up, you idiot, this is supposed to be a happy day.’ He snorts again. ‘Never thought the D-Man was parent material. Nor the D-Man’s woman, come to that.’
‘Just shows that even the perfect Saboo can be sometimes wrong,’ Methuselah says drily from right beside him, making him jump and look sheepish.
‘I’m sorry,’ he stammers, ‘I – I didn’t mean...’
Naboo winces, waiting for the inevitable blow to fall.
But she is laughing; patting Saboo on the arm. ‘I am not offended, I never thought of myself as mother, either. Even I can be sometimes wrong also. Now, if you do not mind, I should like to borrow your Naboo for a short while, there is something I need to discuss with him. No, not about last Christmas’ – she laughs again – ‘do not look so dismayed, I meant it when I said the past is in the past. I need to ask a favour, that is all. Naboo, if you will please come with me...’
‘Sure.’ Naboo shrugs. ‘Whatever.’
He thinks he hears Saboo mutter something at the same time: ‘he’s not mine,’ perhaps? But there’s no time to ask, Methuselah is taking his arm and leading him firmly out of the crowd.
‘Somewhere quiet,’ she says, ‘let us try the rose garden. This way.’
Naboo follows her through a gate in the hedge and across a green, sunlit lawn edged with flowering rosetrees.
I wonder what the fuck this is about. I know she said the past is past, but...We haven’t talked about that Christmas party, ever. Better try not to say the wrong thing, or she might lose it and hit me. My glass is empty, too... I wonder whether I’m going to get another drink or a decent smoke anytime soon...
There’s a double seat under an archway at the far end, canopied with heavily scented climbing roses; Methuselah sits down and motions Naboo to sit beside her.
‘I know I said this was not to talk about last Christmas.’ She plucks a leaf, twirls it nervously between her slender fingers. ‘But... I do want to thank you, Naboo, thank you for saving our marriage, for showing my Dennis how to be honest with me.’
Naboo sighs inwardly with relief. She’s not going to hit me, then. ‘I’m glad I helped, but I didn’t really do anything.’
‘No.’ She shakes her head vehemently. ‘If it were not for you, we would be separated by now, and this baby that is on the way, he would not be on the way, he would not exist at all.’
‘That’s... quite a responsibility.’
‘It is also a wonderful gift.’ She is smiling now. ‘And in appreciation, we would like to ask you, will you stand mentor to our son when he is born?’
Well. Wasn’t expecting that one. That’ll offend a lot of well-connected Xooberon nobility who will have been hoping for the honour. And am I really up to the job? But if it’s Dennis’s choice...
‘I – well, yes, course I will, but – there’s plenty of other shamen who’ll do a better job, I mean, I don’t even live on-planet and I’m not exactly...’
‘There is no other shaman who has such a link to our family. No-one else we would rather ask. You gave Dennis such good advice. I am certain you will do the same again when it is needed.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Naboo is slightly choked. Must be the perfume from all those flowers.
‘There is something else also.’
‘What?’
‘We would like to name him for you, if you have no objection.’
Naboo chews on his bottom lip. ‘Depends which name. The universe don’t need two Naboos, an’ I’m not bein’ mentor to a boy called Roppity-Poppity...’
‘But Randolph, that is a good name, a fine name.’
‘Yeah, that’d be OK, I s’pose.’
‘Thank you. It is settled, then.’ She puts a hand over her stomach. ‘Randolph it is.’ Then she giggles. ‘I am very pleased, but Dennis’s family will not be. They are so traditional, they disapprove of him marrying extreme sports calendar model, and every firstborn male is always named Dennis. Father, grandfather, great grandfather, Dennis, Dennis, Dennis... But not this time. This time, we break tradition... Oh.’ She catches her breath suddenly.
‘You OK?’
‘I’m fine. Just the baby kicking, I think he hears us. You want to feel him?’
‘Well, I –’ I do want to feel, I want it very much indeed, contact with that small new life that is somehow in some weird way linked with mine. But touching the Head Shaman’s wife... might that be crossing the line?
She grasps his wrist; places his hand on her belly. ‘There. Can you feel him?’
‘I can feel...’ Yes. Yes. The kicking comes again, and oh, I can, I can feel it, can feel everything that’s going on in there, every twitch and heartbeat and... Blimey.
‘What is it?’ She’s looking anxiously into his face. ‘Naboo, what can you feel?’
With regret, he takes his hand away, and is surprised to find his cheeks are wet with tears.
‘I fink, you’re going to be able to make Dennis’s family happy too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean...’ He sniffs, and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his party robe. ‘There’s two in there. Twins. Two boys.’
Methuselah’s eyes are wide. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Absolutely. So you can call one of ’em Dennis after all. The big one.’
‘Dennis Junior and Randolph.’ She is laughing with sheer delight. ‘Randolph and DJ. Oh, Naboo, this is wonderful, we have to go and tell Papa Dennis right now.’
‘Make sure he’s sitting down first.’
‘Do you think your Saboo would stand mentor to DJ?’
‘Dunno. S’pose we could just ask him.’
Just ask him... oh, fuck, of course, how could I be such a blind numpty? I know what Dennis meant now, the question I’ve got to ask Saboo, should have asked him already really, cos he’s been waiting for me to ask it, and hopefully he’ll say yes to her and yes to me and then everything will be all right...
‘Come on, then.’ Methuselah jumps to her feet.
Naboo takes her hand, and together they run back through the sunlit rose garden.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-07-03 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-03 09:40 pm (UTC)You are pretty persuasive when you put your mind to it, you know!
no subject
Date: 2013-07-03 10:39 pm (UTC)This is just totally gorgeous and a sublime almost-end to a perfect fic. I love your depiction of Methuselah and I screamed a little bit when they named the babies Randolph and DJ.
We must be telepathically linked, posting on the same day! Ah, the Boosh hive-mind...
no subject
Date: 2013-07-04 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-04 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-04 10:01 pm (UTC)OK, OK, I will add 'Howince wedding' to the list of ideas in my notebook and we'll see what happens. No guarantees, but maybe by next Christmas...
no subject
Date: 2013-07-04 10:36 pm (UTC)