Body Language. Queen

Reflections.

Freddie's P.O.V.

That little fucking detective.

I inhaled heavily and glanced at him, I tried to act casual, it wasn't like Roger had even done anything with that woman that was sat on his lap...she was just sitting...on his lap.

Oh dear.

Should I tell him the truth or curve it a little? To stop an argument breaking out between the two of them again.

Somehow, I don't think Deaks would like it if I told him that Roger had an attractive female perched on his lap, stroking his thigh. If I found out Brian had been in the same situation...I certainly wouldn't be very happy.

"We...we just got talking to these girls whilst waiting at the bar. I think one of them may have...had to lean over his shoulder to order her drink...that's all." I shrugged.

He nodded his head slowly, "Okay...that's okay..." he said quietly.

I sat there, waiting for another question from him but I didn't get one, thankfully.

I put a hand on his leg, "You're coming with us next time. In fact, we need a night out with all four of us!" I exclaimed, realising that the four of us haven't been out together since Scotland, probably.

He cracked into a grin and a giggle, he nodded more enthusiastically this time, "Definitely. I'm fed up of having to Mother him all the time." He replied, hinting at Roger.

"I'll have it arranged." I winked.

He got up from my bed, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, I hoped my answers to his questions satisfied him enough, even if they were not the full truth. But I think by withholding some information, it's going to be better for the both of them.

I just hated how Roger never told him anything in fear of an argument. He needed to get over that fear, sometimes arguing is the only way of communicating, it's not a nice way, but it gets things said.

"You should get dressed, we have to go in ten." Deaks chuckled as he walked to my door.

I groaned, "Why today. Of all days...can't it fucking wait?" I flopped back onto my bed.

I heard him laugh, "Ten minutes, Freddie!" He reminded me as he left.

"Ten minutes. They can bloody well wait." I chuntered to myself, scraping my sorry body off the comfort of my bed. I still felt like the devil himself had entered my body and was making poison pulse through my every vein whilst he clawed at my brain. I had the worst of headaches, the light was blinding me even though it was likely to be dim.

I bet that lucky blonde bastard felt fresh as daisy as he always did after a night out. I envied him for that, how I wish I didn't have to recover for three days and feel like I'd been run over by several lorries.

I couldn't be arsed to make any kind of effort, they should all be blessed that I was even going to bother to turn up, a bloody tour meeting, already. The album wasn't even out yet and they already wanted to blast us off to the other side of the world. I sometimes wished we didn't have a manager so we could decide for ourselves when and if we wanted to tour. Don't get me wrong, touring was a wonderful experience, I throughly enjoyed putting on the shows and entertaining the audiences, meeting new people in their countries and so on, we had an awful lot to give back to them, but the travelling pissed me right off. It was so fucking boring and I hated planes. Fucking hated them. It wasn't that I was scared of flying, I just didn't trust them as machines...unpredictable things they are. Trains are noisy and long and coaches make me throw up, you know, if I could walk, I bloody well would.