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

53. Wake-Up Call

"I think Rudy's here," I announced while making up the bed.

"Oh, yes?" Freddie called from the bathroom.

"Yes," I said.  "I hear someone knocking at the door."

"Is somebody ringing the bell?"

"No, I think someone's knocking at the door-"

"I could have sworn I heard somebody ringing the bell."

I was about to ask why we were even having this discussion.  Suddenly I realized what he was doing.  "Really?" I murmured to myself.

Freddie poked his head out and grinned at me.  "Do me a favor, darling: open the door, and let him in."

I burst out laughing.  "You're so silly."

"No, I just feel marvelous, that's all."

In spite of what had taken place as little as fifteen minutes ago, both of us were behaving respectably, feeling as fresh as the new, gently rainwashed day.  While I smoothed the bed sheets, Freddie was busy smoothing the curls the shower had made of his hair- a task he was going to have to cut short fairly soon, or else be late.  He had been singing random melodies to himself, little "dee dee dees" and whatnot, trying to see what worked and what needed work.  My lips were curled in a permanent smile as I listened to him go.  The smallest things he did made me so utterly happy.

"Now I have that song stuck in my head," I muttered softly.  "Thank you so, so very much."

"Not at all," he chirped. 

I heard a couple more knocks.  "I'll be right back," I said.

"Hold it, hold it, darling, what have you done with my shirt?"

"It's right where I left it." I pointed.  "Right there on the chair."

Freddie padded out of the bathroom and saw his ironed, short-sleeved button down draped over the back of the chair in the corner.  "Ah!  There it is.  Thank you, darling, that saves me a good bit of time.  'Well, you're just seventeen, and all you wanna do is disapp...' Julia, why don't you like Roger?"

"Why do you ask?" I asked.

"Idle curiosity.  Aside of the bet, I mean, you obviously weren't too keen on him even before you met him.  What was it?"

"It's not that I didn't like him, I just- I was just rather apathetic toward him, is all," I replied.  "But I admit, he is quite cute."

"Oh, is he?" Freddie said dryly.

"Yup," I answered.  "He's got a very pretty face."

"Mm-hm.  I see how it is."

"See what?"

"You do think he's pretty.  Not just cute, but pretty."

"Oh, now, don't you dare start.  You asked!"

He mumbled something under his breath, something about how I just thought he was cute.  Freddie pulled on the shirt, his back to me as he mildly sulked. I can't keep up with this guy, he's so moody.

I sighed.  "I would go on to say that you, by comparison, are not pretty, but gorgeous, and there's a fire in your soul that Roger couldn't hope to match- and it's that I found, and still find, absolutely captivating; but you're being moody, so I'll wait to tell you that once you're feeling better."

So saying, I started for the stairs, when Freddie put his hand on my arm. 

"Sorry, darling, you were going to say something?" he purred.