Roy Returns!
Sep. 30th, 2009 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sermocinare(x-posted)
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #7 (a fresh start), Molasses #6 (life of the party) and Fudge Ripple #8 (annoyance)
Rating: PG
Word count: 1323
Summary: Dee and Roy meet again, this time at a reception in Berlin.
Author's notes: Follow-up to this, which should be read first. Warning, contains pissed-off Dee in a dress *g*.
There were a lot of things you could say about him that were not exactly flattering – that he had a temper, that he lacked self-control, that he was more interested in parties and airplanes and girls than in learning how to efficiently run a business the size of Hohenheim Enterprises. One thing you could not say about Dee, however, was that he did not know what his filial duties were. Even if he resented them with every fibre of his being.
So when his father had asked Dee to accompany him to the reception at the Adlon, and would he please consider being appropriate since everybody who was anybody in business would be there, Dee hat put on a dress and a fake smile and had agreed to go along. For the company. For his father. For keeping up appearances.
They had only been there for about an hour, and he was already regretting it. But if there was one thing you learned when born into the wrong kind of body, it was how to put up an act. So no matter how much he was seething on the inside, to everybody else at the party, Diana Hohenheim was the very picture of charm. Dee had seen two or three faces familiar from his usual nighttime haunts near the Bülowstreet, but by mutual and unspoken agreement, they did not know each other on these occasions. Instead, he had just spent what had to have been the worst ten minutes of his life talking to that arrogant, slimy bastard Stinnes. The evening could not possibly get any worse.
He had just picked a flute of champagne off of the tray of one of the passing waiters – his third already, but if he got a bit drunk, maybe this would get a bit easier, and damn it why did they never have any real booze at these receptions – when he heard a polite cough coming from behind his left shoulder. He turned, faux charming smile already in place, to find himself faced with Roy McArthur. So much for the evening not getting any worse.
Dee’s smile dropped, along with his mood, and he had to restrain himself from telling the guy outright to get lost, and right now, please. But something in Roy’s expression stopped him. The man was looking as uncomfortable in his skin as Dee felt, and there was an almost apologetic look in his eyes.
“I’m… sorry to bother you, but, um, could we talk, maybe?” Roy’s voice was low, and his eyes were scanning the room. The whole situation was obviously making him nervous. There was nothing left of the self-assured charm with which he had tried to woo Dee back in Essen. Dee almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Which was why he nodded, then gestured into the direction of one of the doors that led out of the reception room: “All right. Let’s go to the lobby. It’s too noisy here, and I need a smoke.”
Roy nodded, and followed Dee out into the lobby, where they sat down at a small table in a secluded corner. Dee put down his glass, then took the cigarette case and lighter out of the small handbag he was carrying. Why on earth did women’s clothes always come without any real pockets to put things in? Before putting the cigarette to his lips and lighting it, he nodded to Roy: “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Roy was fidgeting in his overstuffed chair, apparently fascinated by the mahogany table top. Finally, he raised his eyes, looking straight at Dee, and took a deep breath: “I wanted to apologize. For what happened in Essen. I guess I was a bit of a jerk, and I’m sorry I came on to you like that. I probably should’ve gotten the clue a bit earlier. That you weren’t interested.”
“Yes, you should have.” Seeing Roy wince, Dee immediately softened his expression a bit: “But it’s not like all of it’s your fault. After all, it’s not like you could have known from just looking at me.” He flicked the ash off his cigarette, unconsciously biting his lower lip: “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Just because I don’t see myself as a woman doesn’t mean others are going to do so, too.” He smirked, looking down at himself: “Especially not when I go around dressed like this.”
The relief was clearly written across Roy’s face, making him look almost adorably boyish for a moment. He nodded, then raised a dark eyebrow: “I was wondering about that, yes. The dress.”
Dee snickered: “And the handbag. Don’t forget the stupid handbag. Anyway,” he breathed out some smoke, “I’m doing this for my father. And for the company. After all, we’re doing business with at least a dozen of the people in there,” he used his cigarette to point at the entrance to the reception room, “and plan on doing business with at least another half dozen of them.” He leaned back in his chair, frowning: “And the old guard is very conservative. It’s a wonder they even set foot in the city, some of them. After all,” he gave Roy a wolfish grin, “Berlin is one big den of vice.”
The burden now off his shoulders, the American grinned back: “It is? I can’t say I’ve noticed much of it yet. But then, I’ve only been here for a few days.”
“You’ve been here a few days and haven’t noticed our famous vice? My good man,” Dee laughed, “you’re either very unlucky, very sheltered or blind.”
Running a hand through his hair, Roy shook his head, still grinning: “Probably a bit of everything. To be honest, it had me a bit disappointed. I’d heard so much about the city’s nightlife, but so far, I’ve only managed to go to one rather boring pub and the cinema.”
“Well, the cinema is a good start. What did you see, the new Fritz Lang movie?” Not letting the man answer, Dee went on: “Anyway, it seems that you need a tour guide to properly experience Berlin’s glittering nightlife.”
Roy nodded, then smiled at Dee: “What do you say? Are you up for it, Di… errr… ?”
The sheepish look on Roy’s face made Dee laugh out loud: “Dee. You can call me Dee. And yes, but under one condition.”
“…being?”
Dee’s expression got serious, but there was still a spark of humor in his eyes: “You just remember that this skirt is just a disguise, and most assuredly not chaseable. Also,” he winked, “my girlfriend would kill you.”
Roy nodded, and Dee had no doubt that he was sincere about his next words: “I’ll keep that in mind.” The American looked back towards the large double door that led to the reception and frowned: “I guess we should get back in there.”
Dee sighed: “Guess so, yes. But hey,” he gave Roy a conspiratorial smile, “I don’t think anybody would really miss us an hour or so from now. They’ll be too busy planning the takeover of the free world by then. So, what do you say, we suffer through another hour, then I double back home, get into something more me, and we meet at the Alexanderplatz?”
“I think that sounds like a really good plan, Dee.” Roy got up, straightening his jacket: “Time to face the music. Or rather the lack of decent music. Say, do you have any good swing clubs around here?”
“Why, of course!” Dee deposited her cigarettes and the lighter back into the dreaded handbag: “Maybe not as good as those in the States, but man, let me tell you, we’re the jazz capital of Europe.”
“That’ll give me strength for the next hour.” Roy smirked, then marched off in the direction of the doors. Dee followed, smiling to himself. The guy wasn’t all that much of a jerk after all.
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #7 (a fresh start), Molasses #6 (life of the party) and Fudge Ripple #8 (annoyance)
Rating: PG
Word count: 1323
Summary: Dee and Roy meet again, this time at a reception in Berlin.
Author's notes: Follow-up to this, which should be read first. Warning, contains pissed-off Dee in a dress *g*.
There were a lot of things you could say about him that were not exactly flattering – that he had a temper, that he lacked self-control, that he was more interested in parties and airplanes and girls than in learning how to efficiently run a business the size of Hohenheim Enterprises. One thing you could not say about Dee, however, was that he did not know what his filial duties were. Even if he resented them with every fibre of his being.
So when his father had asked Dee to accompany him to the reception at the Adlon, and would he please consider being appropriate since everybody who was anybody in business would be there, Dee hat put on a dress and a fake smile and had agreed to go along. For the company. For his father. For keeping up appearances.
They had only been there for about an hour, and he was already regretting it. But if there was one thing you learned when born into the wrong kind of body, it was how to put up an act. So no matter how much he was seething on the inside, to everybody else at the party, Diana Hohenheim was the very picture of charm. Dee had seen two or three faces familiar from his usual nighttime haunts near the Bülowstreet, but by mutual and unspoken agreement, they did not know each other on these occasions. Instead, he had just spent what had to have been the worst ten minutes of his life talking to that arrogant, slimy bastard Stinnes. The evening could not possibly get any worse.
He had just picked a flute of champagne off of the tray of one of the passing waiters – his third already, but if he got a bit drunk, maybe this would get a bit easier, and damn it why did they never have any real booze at these receptions – when he heard a polite cough coming from behind his left shoulder. He turned, faux charming smile already in place, to find himself faced with Roy McArthur. So much for the evening not getting any worse.
Dee’s smile dropped, along with his mood, and he had to restrain himself from telling the guy outright to get lost, and right now, please. But something in Roy’s expression stopped him. The man was looking as uncomfortable in his skin as Dee felt, and there was an almost apologetic look in his eyes.
“I’m… sorry to bother you, but, um, could we talk, maybe?” Roy’s voice was low, and his eyes were scanning the room. The whole situation was obviously making him nervous. There was nothing left of the self-assured charm with which he had tried to woo Dee back in Essen. Dee almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Which was why he nodded, then gestured into the direction of one of the doors that led out of the reception room: “All right. Let’s go to the lobby. It’s too noisy here, and I need a smoke.”
Roy nodded, and followed Dee out into the lobby, where they sat down at a small table in a secluded corner. Dee put down his glass, then took the cigarette case and lighter out of the small handbag he was carrying. Why on earth did women’s clothes always come without any real pockets to put things in? Before putting the cigarette to his lips and lighting it, he nodded to Roy: “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Roy was fidgeting in his overstuffed chair, apparently fascinated by the mahogany table top. Finally, he raised his eyes, looking straight at Dee, and took a deep breath: “I wanted to apologize. For what happened in Essen. I guess I was a bit of a jerk, and I’m sorry I came on to you like that. I probably should’ve gotten the clue a bit earlier. That you weren’t interested.”
“Yes, you should have.” Seeing Roy wince, Dee immediately softened his expression a bit: “But it’s not like all of it’s your fault. After all, it’s not like you could have known from just looking at me.” He flicked the ash off his cigarette, unconsciously biting his lower lip: “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Just because I don’t see myself as a woman doesn’t mean others are going to do so, too.” He smirked, looking down at himself: “Especially not when I go around dressed like this.”
The relief was clearly written across Roy’s face, making him look almost adorably boyish for a moment. He nodded, then raised a dark eyebrow: “I was wondering about that, yes. The dress.”
Dee snickered: “And the handbag. Don’t forget the stupid handbag. Anyway,” he breathed out some smoke, “I’m doing this for my father. And for the company. After all, we’re doing business with at least a dozen of the people in there,” he used his cigarette to point at the entrance to the reception room, “and plan on doing business with at least another half dozen of them.” He leaned back in his chair, frowning: “And the old guard is very conservative. It’s a wonder they even set foot in the city, some of them. After all,” he gave Roy a wolfish grin, “Berlin is one big den of vice.”
The burden now off his shoulders, the American grinned back: “It is? I can’t say I’ve noticed much of it yet. But then, I’ve only been here for a few days.”
“You’ve been here a few days and haven’t noticed our famous vice? My good man,” Dee laughed, “you’re either very unlucky, very sheltered or blind.”
Running a hand through his hair, Roy shook his head, still grinning: “Probably a bit of everything. To be honest, it had me a bit disappointed. I’d heard so much about the city’s nightlife, but so far, I’ve only managed to go to one rather boring pub and the cinema.”
“Well, the cinema is a good start. What did you see, the new Fritz Lang movie?” Not letting the man answer, Dee went on: “Anyway, it seems that you need a tour guide to properly experience Berlin’s glittering nightlife.”
Roy nodded, then smiled at Dee: “What do you say? Are you up for it, Di… errr… ?”
The sheepish look on Roy’s face made Dee laugh out loud: “Dee. You can call me Dee. And yes, but under one condition.”
“…being?”
Dee’s expression got serious, but there was still a spark of humor in his eyes: “You just remember that this skirt is just a disguise, and most assuredly not chaseable. Also,” he winked, “my girlfriend would kill you.”
Roy nodded, and Dee had no doubt that he was sincere about his next words: “I’ll keep that in mind.” The American looked back towards the large double door that led to the reception and frowned: “I guess we should get back in there.”
Dee sighed: “Guess so, yes. But hey,” he gave Roy a conspiratorial smile, “I don’t think anybody would really miss us an hour or so from now. They’ll be too busy planning the takeover of the free world by then. So, what do you say, we suffer through another hour, then I double back home, get into something more me, and we meet at the Alexanderplatz?”
“I think that sounds like a really good plan, Dee.” Roy got up, straightening his jacket: “Time to face the music. Or rather the lack of decent music. Say, do you have any good swing clubs around here?”
“Why, of course!” Dee deposited her cigarettes and the lighter back into the dreaded handbag: “Maybe not as good as those in the States, but man, let me tell you, we’re the jazz capital of Europe.”
“That’ll give me strength for the next hour.” Roy smirked, then marched off in the direction of the doors. Dee followed, smiling to himself. The guy wasn’t all that much of a jerk after all.
