In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

Birdman's Eye View: By the Skin of Their Teeth

As the heavy door closes behind us, I notice Veronica is still smiling to herself.

"I simply let you say the password, and your whole night is made," I say. "To think, for the last three and a half years, I've been doing it the hard way."

"Hush, you cheeky bastard," she giggles, putting her arm in mine.

I have never been to the Heatwave before. God knows, I've heard enough about it from more well-traveled clubbers like Freddie and Roger, but it's a place no one ever talks about in public. There's an edge of secrecy, and if the rumors are to be believed, as far as drugs and all sorts of other taboo things are concerned, it's well-deserved. The Heatwave is one of those places where the stars go to indulge. But Freddie's invited me, and I can't just hobnob about and leave my sport of a wife at home.

I suppose we'll only stay for a couple of drinks, say hello to Freddie, then head back home. True, it's ten past eleven, and Robert's fast asleep with a sitter keeping watch, but Veronica doesn't like leaving him alone for too long. What strait-laced, upright parents we are becoming. Though I dare say I haven't changed all that much. I guess I was born to be the responsible one of the group.

Well, the more responsible one, anyway.

The actual entrance is not so closely guarded, and we walk right in. I'm a little unimpressed at first, it's just like any other club around London these days. Veronica coughs, the smoke of the dry ice tickling her throat. We order our cocktails, and with a little toast to my lady, I down it the moment it arrives.

"You said the boys would be here?" Veronica asks, raising her voice to be heard over the throbbing music.

"Can't say for certain if they'll all show. Probably not. I know Freddie's somewhere around here, and I'll wager he brought that funny little sprite of his."

"Sprite?"

"The girl who was in his closet."

She frowns. "Whose closet? Freddie's?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"Don't think so. If you did, I don't remember."

"Remember that little thing Robert swallowed-"

"OH! Yes! So she's the one? That thing's hers?"

"The Relic? Yes, it's hers."

"What's it for?"

"Dunno. I just hope it can do whatever it's supposed to once I put it back together."

Robert has since returned the golden thing he had swallowed, if you catch my drift. I'm letting it dry out fully before I reassemble the device. Will it work? Well, I'll be honest. My hopes aren't too high, but I still can't afford not to try.

"Where are they, anyway?" I ask aloud, squinting through the fog, searching for Eve, Freddie, or both. I expect Eve to be somewhere round the edge, hugging the wall, but I can't see her. A few more minutes of searching and I catch sight of a crowded bar table. When the man I recognize to be Freddie's friend Peter Straker moves aside, I see Freddie standing under a dark red light, hunched over his glass. Someone must have told an incredibly funny story, because quite suddenly he throws his head back and laughs hysterically, looks back behind him, then laughs even harder.

Veronica spots him as well. "There he is! Where's his girl?"

I shrug, then the two of us worm our way through the crowd to get to Freddie. The closer we come, the more messed up I realize he is. He can't keep still, and he's clearly ready for a little fun from the way he keeps putting his hands all over his friends standing there, planting kisses on any and every cheek. I've seen him in the mood before, and acting on it, but this time- I don't know, it just looks like he's trying too hard.