A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

27. Turn, Turn, Turn

Freddie

"Now," I announced, snapping my fingers, "I'm getting out."

Rudy adjusted his mirror so he could stare me down without turning his head. "I wouldn't."

As I'm sure will come as a complete shock to you, I ignored him, reaching for the door to hop out - until he added, "Unless you want her to suffer."

That last shook me to the core; I balked, grip still tight around the handle. I might have asked what he was talking about, if similar words were not also echoing within my head that very moment. Words whispered in anger and confusion on my first conscious night in the future; words for no one but myself to hear; words I had not meant, or at this point I had forgotten I had even said, until now.

"Maybe I should just go out of my way to rip your little world in half, Julia, and see how you like it," the recording had hissed cruelly against my ear. "How would it be if this time round, you were the one who suffered?"

This has to be Gertrude's doing, I frantically surmised. It was the Modo, had to have been. He must have not only been listening to us, but recording us too - recording me- from the very beginning. And now there's another brick in the wall - no, another ten whole fucking rows, more like. My God. If only I had destroyed it immediately- not that it would make much difference, I've fucked up enough without his help. I tell you, that's the one thing I do better than anything, is fuck up. Bloody hell, Roxie, you dried-up old clam, did you have to be her fucking cousin?

I was too busy despairing over the situation, cursing my terrific run of bad luck, and really just feeling quite sorry for myself to wonder why she had been pulled over at all. Danny, however, was paying attention.

"Was she speeding?" he asked with a frown.

"I don't think so," John replied.

"That actually may be a first, I think," I murmured, resorting once again to a prickly tongue in hopes the jagged, shattered bits of my heart would be mistaken for thorns. "The woman drives like a bandit."

Rudy coughed. "At least she drives."

Oh, fuck off.

Danny shook his head. "I don't think she did anything. Mr. Burdon, did she do something?"

The driver didn't answer right off- and ultimately, never did, for right then the policeman stepped out and approached Julia's car. In confused silence we merely looked on, unsure of what to do.

"We weren't going any slower than she was; we were behind her," John thought aloud. "Why didn't he pull us over?"

"You're right," I realized. "What's more, this is a much more conspicuous car. He would have been sure to notice us first."

"Something's wrong."

"Very." I reached for the door again. "Be back in a-"

"Freddie, stop," Rudy warned, his tepid voice hardening. "I will not say it again."

Never in my life had this man spoken to me with such authority. "So, we're back to telling me what I can and cannot do," I snapped. "Tell me, Rudy, where's your crown and scepter? I've yet to see either-"

"Keep your voice low," Rudy cut me off.

"What for?"

"So I can listen," he murmured. "And- there's less chance of being noticed that way."

"Are you mad? He'd have to be fucking blind not to notice the banana behind him!"

"Not necessarily."