caramelsilver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
caramelsilver) wrote2010-02-09 07:57 pm
caramelsilver) wrote2010-02-09 07:57 pm
Entry tags:
Original Fiction: Lemon Tea
Title: Lemon Tea
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
caramelsilver
Rating: PG
Word count: 1200
Fandom: Original Fiction of my imaginary TV show: Lingua Franca. Yeah, I went there.
Characters: John Hawthorne and Liv Bergstad
Summary: John is pissed because their rooms aren't ready and Liv got everything under control, except for the damn lemon tea.
John Hawthorne, the first assistant of the English diplomat Patrick McBoyd was looking a little dishevelled as he walked down the corridor of this weeks hotel. (A seriously long corridor. Why did they always have to camp out at these bloody big hotels all the time? He was this close to investing in heelies like Jenna had, no matter how ridiculous they made you look. These corridors were murder on his feet.)
He had a crowd of hotel attendants trailing in his wake that he paid no mind. Walking quickly, his focus was completely on the iPhone in his hands and his expression got darker and darker. Suddenly he slipped the phone into his pocket and stopped and turned to look at the startled people behind him. "Right. So what is this about Patrick McBoyd's rooms not being ready?" he asked. He had just stepped off a eight hour long flight, and he was tired and not feeling up to dealing with this bloody mess. Plainly, he was pissed and not afraid of making people aware of that fact.
"We are terribly sorry, sir, but the maid is still doing the cleaning..." a brave soul dared to stutter out. John turned to look at him with angry blue eyes.
"Do you have any idea who Patrick McBoyd is?" he asked. The crowd shook their heads. "He is one of the few people in the world who is trying to create peace. So if I were you, I'd stop looking at me like I had a negative IQ and get his rooms ready!" John all but yelled. The crowd scurried away. "How the hell do you expect him to create peace in the Middle East if he doesn't have a place to sleep!?" he yelled after them. And how do you expect me to keep everything organized if I don't have a place to sleep, he thought tiredly.
Finally alone, John muttered a few more choice curse words under his breath, before walking back to the lobby. Down in the reception area John spotted a familiar blonde woman and shouted, "My northern angel, how are you today?"
Liv Bergstad looked up from her phone and smiled when she recognized him. "John! It's so nice to see you. I'm doing fine. I'm just waiting for the imbecilic staff to tell me our rooms are ready." She too had just stepped off the plane, but unlike him she looked as pristine as she always did. So unfair.
"Your rooms aren't ready either?" John asked, slightly gleeful. It just wouldn't do to have the Norwegians having it any better than them. For one, John would have to endure endless speeches on how he should be more like Liv Bergstad and, frankly, that would be unbearable.
"No," Liv said with a sigh. "Not that I didn't expect it though."
John frowned. "You did?"
"Yes, of course. How many years have we been here? Three? How many times have the rooms been ready?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Fair point." He smiled at her. It had been a while since they had been in the same city. This summit was a big one , though, and many familiar faces would be present. "Have the French arrived, yet?" he asked. Liv usually had full control on everyone.
"Not yet," she said and quickly wrote a text on her phone.
"Have you met Emmanuelle's new assistant?" he asked, hopeful that it would be a woman this time.
"I have. And just to get it out of the way," she turned to look him straight in the eyes. "Don't even think about it! She is good at her job and I like her! And you know that with the slightest sign of anything wrong she will be packing her bags. So keep your fingers to yourself!" She glared at him. It was weird to feel guilty and being chastised for something he hadn't done yet.
John widened his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, slightly untruthful. They both knew that it was highly likely that he would break his promise. But it was tradition and had to be done.
Liv's phone beeped and her attention was back to the device in her hands. She made a low growling sound in her throat. "Fuck!"
"What's all the trouble then?" He asked, nodding towards her phone which she was anxiously tapping between her fingers. It looked like she was barely holding back the urge to smash it into the nearest wall.
"They don't have any lemon tea," she replied, looking down at her phone again. "There's absolutely no fucking lemon tea in the entire hotel, and I'm waiting to hear back from the moron I sent out to get some."
"And no lemon tea is the end of the world, because?" John asked slowly, looking at her as if she might be a little crazy. You never knew with small, blonde, crazily-good-at-their-job girls.
"Because! When Christian starts getting all fed up with all the idiots he surrounds himself with, lemon tea is the only thing that keeps him from yelling. And since this is a no-smoking hotel I'm pretty much screwed if there is no lemon tea, because then I can't just give him a cigarette to shut him up!" She was punching away at her phone and it looked like she was close to having a mini breakdown. He took her hand and led her towards a sofa and made her sit down.
"Love, you need to breathe," he said, sitting down beside her. She nodded and took a few deep breaths.
"Where is Hauge, by the way? McBoyd wants to talk to him," John said when her breathing was back to normal.
"He'll be here in two hours," Liv said, not looking up from her phone.
"You mean he's not here? But your plane landed at about the same time as ours," John said, puzzled.
"Yeah, well I knew the rooms wouldn't be ready, so I sent Christian to get a massage. That way I get to fix this mess without him checking up on me every five minutes and he's way less cranky," Liv said with a shrug.
John looked at her, stunned. She had what? No wonder McBoyd kept telling him to be more like Hauge's assistant. He needed a cigarette.
She looked up and met his gaze and as he looked into her wide eyes it clicked. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "You're..." he stopped. If he had learned anything after all these years it was that you should never say anything you weren't ready to see the consequences of.
"I am what?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Shaking his head, John said, "Nothing." She gave a sharp nod. "Just... Be careful, okay?" John said his voice gentle. Liv refused to meet his eyes. "He can ruin you."
Her head snapped up and she looked at him enraged. "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about." Her English, which had been perfect Oxford English up until now, had a slight Norwegian accent. She got up from the sofa. "I have to fix this." She motioned to the phone. "I'll see you later John." With that she walked brusquely away from him.
John sighed. He really liked her, so he hoped this didn't end badly. He watched her disappear into an elevator, before remembering his mission. He needed to speak with the fucking manager of this place.
finis.
Author:
caramelsilverRating: PG
Word count: 1200
Fandom: Original Fiction of my imaginary TV show: Lingua Franca. Yeah, I went there.
Characters: John Hawthorne and Liv Bergstad
Summary: John is pissed because their rooms aren't ready and Liv got everything under control, except for the damn lemon tea.
John Hawthorne, the first assistant of the English diplomat Patrick McBoyd was looking a little dishevelled as he walked down the corridor of this weeks hotel. (A seriously long corridor. Why did they always have to camp out at these bloody big hotels all the time? He was this close to investing in heelies like Jenna had, no matter how ridiculous they made you look. These corridors were murder on his feet.)
He had a crowd of hotel attendants trailing in his wake that he paid no mind. Walking quickly, his focus was completely on the iPhone in his hands and his expression got darker and darker. Suddenly he slipped the phone into his pocket and stopped and turned to look at the startled people behind him. "Right. So what is this about Patrick McBoyd's rooms not being ready?" he asked. He had just stepped off a eight hour long flight, and he was tired and not feeling up to dealing with this bloody mess. Plainly, he was pissed and not afraid of making people aware of that fact.
"We are terribly sorry, sir, but the maid is still doing the cleaning..." a brave soul dared to stutter out. John turned to look at him with angry blue eyes.
"Do you have any idea who Patrick McBoyd is?" he asked. The crowd shook their heads. "He is one of the few people in the world who is trying to create peace. So if I were you, I'd stop looking at me like I had a negative IQ and get his rooms ready!" John all but yelled. The crowd scurried away. "How the hell do you expect him to create peace in the Middle East if he doesn't have a place to sleep!?" he yelled after them. And how do you expect me to keep everything organized if I don't have a place to sleep, he thought tiredly.
Finally alone, John muttered a few more choice curse words under his breath, before walking back to the lobby. Down in the reception area John spotted a familiar blonde woman and shouted, "My northern angel, how are you today?"
Liv Bergstad looked up from her phone and smiled when she recognized him. "John! It's so nice to see you. I'm doing fine. I'm just waiting for the imbecilic staff to tell me our rooms are ready." She too had just stepped off the plane, but unlike him she looked as pristine as she always did. So unfair.
"Your rooms aren't ready either?" John asked, slightly gleeful. It just wouldn't do to have the Norwegians having it any better than them. For one, John would have to endure endless speeches on how he should be more like Liv Bergstad and, frankly, that would be unbearable.
"No," Liv said with a sigh. "Not that I didn't expect it though."
John frowned. "You did?"
"Yes, of course. How many years have we been here? Three? How many times have the rooms been ready?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Fair point." He smiled at her. It had been a while since they had been in the same city. This summit was a big one , though, and many familiar faces would be present. "Have the French arrived, yet?" he asked. Liv usually had full control on everyone.
"Not yet," she said and quickly wrote a text on her phone.
"Have you met Emmanuelle's new assistant?" he asked, hopeful that it would be a woman this time.
"I have. And just to get it out of the way," she turned to look him straight in the eyes. "Don't even think about it! She is good at her job and I like her! And you know that with the slightest sign of anything wrong she will be packing her bags. So keep your fingers to yourself!" She glared at him. It was weird to feel guilty and being chastised for something he hadn't done yet.
John widened his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, slightly untruthful. They both knew that it was highly likely that he would break his promise. But it was tradition and had to be done.
Liv's phone beeped and her attention was back to the device in her hands. She made a low growling sound in her throat. "Fuck!"
"What's all the trouble then?" He asked, nodding towards her phone which she was anxiously tapping between her fingers. It looked like she was barely holding back the urge to smash it into the nearest wall.
"They don't have any lemon tea," she replied, looking down at her phone again. "There's absolutely no fucking lemon tea in the entire hotel, and I'm waiting to hear back from the moron I sent out to get some."
"And no lemon tea is the end of the world, because?" John asked slowly, looking at her as if she might be a little crazy. You never knew with small, blonde, crazily-good-at-their-job girls.
"Because! When Christian starts getting all fed up with all the idiots he surrounds himself with, lemon tea is the only thing that keeps him from yelling. And since this is a no-smoking hotel I'm pretty much screwed if there is no lemon tea, because then I can't just give him a cigarette to shut him up!" She was punching away at her phone and it looked like she was close to having a mini breakdown. He took her hand and led her towards a sofa and made her sit down.
"Love, you need to breathe," he said, sitting down beside her. She nodded and took a few deep breaths.
"Where is Hauge, by the way? McBoyd wants to talk to him," John said when her breathing was back to normal.
"He'll be here in two hours," Liv said, not looking up from her phone.
"You mean he's not here? But your plane landed at about the same time as ours," John said, puzzled.
"Yeah, well I knew the rooms wouldn't be ready, so I sent Christian to get a massage. That way I get to fix this mess without him checking up on me every five minutes and he's way less cranky," Liv said with a shrug.
John looked at her, stunned. She had what? No wonder McBoyd kept telling him to be more like Hauge's assistant. He needed a cigarette.
She looked up and met his gaze and as he looked into her wide eyes it clicked. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "You're..." he stopped. If he had learned anything after all these years it was that you should never say anything you weren't ready to see the consequences of.
"I am what?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Shaking his head, John said, "Nothing." She gave a sharp nod. "Just... Be careful, okay?" John said his voice gentle. Liv refused to meet his eyes. "He can ruin you."
Her head snapped up and she looked at him enraged. "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about." Her English, which had been perfect Oxford English up until now, had a slight Norwegian accent. She got up from the sofa. "I have to fix this." She motioned to the phone. "I'll see you later John." With that she walked brusquely away from him.
John sighed. He really liked her, so he hoped this didn't end badly. He watched her disappear into an elevator, before remembering his mission. He needed to speak with the fucking manager of this place.
finis.
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I am very glad you enjoyed reading this. Thank you for commenting &hearts
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John is much love. Now I would like to watch that show for real ...
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John is awesome and he lives in my brain. I'm glad you like him too.
Thank you so much for commenting. It makes me feel a little less crazy for posting original fiction of my imaginary show.
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They are whip-smart! And so adorable, and awesome and hee! I'm not the only one who thinks so!
And her accent would totally come out when she's angry.
&hearts Thank you so much for commenting. It makes my little heart happy.
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And thank you. I am seriously proud of that show. I know it's a little crazy, but they are like the new babies of my heart. I loved the fact that I got to use Norwegian actors. We got pretty here too!
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And while I have never been angry while talking in english, I'd imagine the accent would be more noticeable then.