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

41. Define 'Free'

I wondered why Freddie would worry about the "hordes" when as far as anyone here was concerned, he was only a charismatic unknown with a very poor fashion sense. Force of habit, I guess, I said to myself as we plowed through the lobby. I'm glad this isn't Japan or I would have been trampled by now. You can't fool the Japanese when it comes to Queen.

We hurried outside, the sky much darker than when I had entered the Circus Maximus. As soon as we cleared the door Freddie pulled us over to the side. "These f---ing things are killing me," he muttered. "I can barely run."

I glanced over to see him take off the vertigo-inducing platforms, and my "fiance" stood before me in his sock feet. And I grinned.

"What?" he said, but there was a little laugh in his voice.

"Nothing, just, if you ever say anything to me about running around barefoot again-"

"I will pay dearly, yes, yes, of course, whatever. Where's the cab?"

"Well, you see, I didn't take a cab."

"What? But you said you had one."

"I said I had a car, not a cab. It's not even really a car, per se- ah, here he comes! He's coming up the drive now."

From behind the fountain Steve's battered old "Mother Ship" rolled into view. Even behind his Sam Elliott 'stache, I could see the blood leave Freddie's cheeks. He took off the glasses in disbelief.

"I do hope you don't mean that old thing," Freddie hissed.

I looked at him. "What old thing?"

"That decrepit rust bucket what's slowing down right in front of us!"

Steve's windows were open, and Freddie's voice had risen with emotion. Even over the loud blaring of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Free Bird," Steve heard him.

He stuck his head out the window, thin hair fluttering in the breeze. "Better tell your man to watch it," Steve warned me.

"Meet Steve, Mark," I said. "He's our ride."

But just as Peter had predicted, Freddie wrinkled his nose in pompous disgust. "Not today, not tomorrow, not in two years, not in a million."

"You don't respect the Mother Ship, her captain doesn't respect you," Steve said flatly.

"That's fine by me. Where's a taxi?"

"Freddie, don't be like that, he's a friend of mine," I whispered. "Please make an exception."

"A friend? This bloke?"

"At least, we will be, eventually."

"Will be?"

"It's complicated. But we haven't much time! Come on! It'll be fun!" I hopped in the bed of the truck, and held out my hand to Freddie.

"I'm taking a cab," Freddie said defiantly, standing firm in his socks. And I sighed. Who was I kidding? He was still in fancy-pants performer mode, I realized. It would be a few minutes until he started acting like a human being again.

To his human side I tried to appeal. "My prince, I let you lock me in a traveler's trunk. A TRUNK. For over an hour. Can you stomach a ten minute ride?"

Freddie hesitated, mouth twitching. For an instant I thought I had him.

But then he replied, "That's different."

"Oh, come on-"

"It's an entirely different situation-"

"It is not!"