Body Language. Queen

Frozen Peas.

Freddie's P.O.V.

"Good evening to you, too, Freddie..." he looked at me with the most smug look on his face. Probably because he had all of our money in his fucking pocket.

"What do you want?" Brian asked, staring at him coldly.

He put his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the other sofa, sitting down on it.

"Get the fuck up." I snarled, I'd want to burn anything he touched, he was poisonous.

He gave me a sarcastic laugh, refusing to obey me.

"I just wanted to apologise..." he started, sounding very sorry indeed...not.

"Do you really think a measly little apology is going to fix everything, Norman?" John looked at him with venom in his eyes.

"Well, one can try." The sly bastard shrugged.

"You could beg on your fucking knees for forgiveness and I'd still rather run you over with a truck. You're disgusting. Get the fuck out." I spat, struggling to my feet, he was too close to me.

"Somebody's been in the wars." He nodded to my leg, completely ignoring my last statement.

"It wouldn't stop me pummelling your ugly fucking face in." I felt Rogers hands on my shoulders.

"Oh, Freddie. We always did get along swimmingly." He laughed.

"Norman. I shall ask you one last time. What do you want?" Brian asked again.

"I told you, Brian. To apologise." He shrugged again.

"And I told you, Norman. It's too fucking late." Deaky was getting angrier by the second.

"I suppose you don't want your money back, then." He fiddled casually with the collar on his expensive shirt that he most likely bought with our money.

"And you think we'd believe that. After all you did? You betrayed us and stole everything. Left us with nothing. Deaky fucking lost his house. You told us we'd make a lot of money. Which we did. But it all ended up in your fucking pocket, Norman." Rogers voice was wobbling as his was trying to keep his composure.

"Please tell us why we would listen to a leech like you after everything you did. You must think we're bloody stupid." Brian was stepping closer to him.

"You can't hate me that much. You wrote a song about me. I was rather flattered." He smiled evilly.

"Only a low life would be flattered by being called Death On Two Legs. Yeah...so fucking flattering." I hobbled over to him and he stood up when I got closer, "I suggest you leave before we call the police."

He laughed loudly in my face, "And what the hell are the police going to do?"

"Well, arrest you for fraud and stealing for starters. Would you like me to go on?" I teased, watching the smug smile disappear from his face, I decided to, just to test him, "Possesion of class A drugs...I hope you haven't forgotten about the time I caught you snorting your own body weight in heroine. And that time I saw a prostitute leave your hotel room? That one you were fucking relentlessly? Behind your wife's back?" I taunted with a smug and playful tone of voice.

Brian had been creeping forward this whole time.

Norman's face had turned red and he was seething, his fists clenched by his side, if he was to hit me then so be it, it would be yet another tale to tell the police.

"You wouldn't dare." He hissed.

"You stole our money. Why wouldn't I? I'd take so much pleasure in doing that I'd probably cum in the process. You're a rat." Suddenly he grabbed me by the neck and began growling in my face.

"I don't regret anything I did, I hated the lot of you." His grip getting tighter.

"Get off of him!" Brian battled him.

I felt huge relief when his hand left my neck, only to hear a loud thud when he swung for Brian and his fist hit his cheek bone.

"Brian!" I yelled, watching as he staggered back and fell into the wall.

Instinct took over and I raised one of my crutches, swinging it and letting it smack around Normans head.

He yelped and John and Roger rushed over, grabbing the revolting creature and dragging him out and closing the door on him, hopefully never to see him again.

How dare he think he could just turn up here uninvited. After stealing everything and leaving us with nothing. How did he even find out where we had moved to? It had felt so good telling him what I thought of him and giving him a good crack around the head. I hope it hurt.

I rushed over as quickly as I could to the guitarist that was sitting on the floor covering his face.

"Bri?!" I couldn't bend down what with the cast but soon Roger came running back in.

"Brian?! Are you alright?" The drummer helped him to his feet and I gently peeled away his hands from his face.

"Shit...Deaky? Get some ice..." Roger winced.

"Fuck...I'm so sorry, Brian..." I winced too, his right eye and cheekbone already swelling badly and had already turned a light shade of blue. I felt awful, he wouldn't have got punched if I hadn't have provoked Norman.

He looked to be in terrible pain.

"Sit down, love. Sit down." I said softly, pointing to the sofa.

He did as I said.

"Here, lift your head up." Deaky said, coming with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel. He placed them softly onto Brian's swollen face and held them there for quite some time whist he sat on the sofas arm.

We all sat in stunned silence for a while until Roger spoke up in disbelief, "The fucking cheek of him..." he looked shocked.

"Doesn't surprise me at all. He's probably running low on money and wants us to make him some more. Fucking devil, he is, I'm telling you.
While we're working out arses off thinking we're just not selling enough records to make any money he's actually drinking it all up for himself and taking our earnings to make himself rich. Makes me sick." I was so angry.

"How's it feeling?" Deaks asked Brian after holding the frozen peas to his face for a while, he removed them momentarily and we all saw that the swelling had gone down a little but it was more purple now.

"Ouch...think that's going to turn into a sweet ass black eye." Roger cringed.

He gently pressed his face with his fingers and then Deaks returned the peas to his face, "Never had a black eye before..." Bri giggled slightly.

"Oh, it's very rock and roll, darling." I winked at him.