Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

16. The Reluctant Millenial, Part One

Freddie

"It's nearly eight o' clock, Danny," Julia called to her son from the floor below. "Lauren and her dad will be off soon."

And Danny replied, "I know, I'm almost ready."

I was nearly through shaving, and half-listening to the voices drifting through the open bathroom door while my mind wandered. Now that I'd basically recovered from the shock of being pulled forty-two years forward in Time, I could take things a little more as they came. Not fully recovered, mind you; to be honest, I still haven't really gotten over it, but I mean, I don't know if anyone could. This isn't like in the films where someone's life can explode right in front of them and they don't even flinch.

Across the hall I could hear Danny singing quietly to himself, some little song I couldn't recognize, but it sounded like it had something to do with Christmas, I heard the word "Santa" mixed in there. He had a sweet-sounding voice, I thought- a bit high, but then, he was young; when I was his age, I myself had quite the deceptive soprano. In spite of myself, I listened closer, trying to make out what he was singing- and my brows rose in surprise:

"He got Dancer and Prancer with an old German Luger,
And he slashed up Dasher just like Freddy Krueger.
And he picked up a flamethrower and he barbecued Blitzen,
And he took a big bite and said, 'It tastes just like chicken,'

The night Santa went crazy,
The night Kris Kringle went nuts; now ya
Can hardly walk around the North Pole
Without stepping in reindeer guts!"

"Well, fa la la la la, to you too," I whispered to myself with a chuckle. I wasn't too taken aback, really. I could very easily picture Julia playing that kind of music for him. Few women I'd known throughout my life had that same kind of dark, offbeat sense of humor that we had- I mean, that she had. That's what I meant to say.

One more stripe of suds remained. As I scraped it off with the razor, I suddenly realized I didn't have the first clue of what I was going to do with myself all day. Of course, I was loath to stay cooped up in the little house the whole time in the first place- but to do it all alone, with just a hyper dachshund and a parrot for company, nary a cat to be found? God forbid. I needed to go work on something, or shop, or whatever, just so long as I got out and about.

I threw a little water on my face, then stood back upright and reached blindly for the towel. After patting dry, I opened my eyes to see the boy in the mirror, peering at me from behind the door. His eyes widened behind the glasses, and he ducked out of sight. Danny Phantom indeed, I quipped to myself.

"It's all right," I said gently. "I'm still not going to eat you."

After a moment, Danny came back, but kept his distance, watching cautiously from the doorway. His mouth curved into a cautious little half-smile as he asked, "You're not?"

"Of course not, I just had breakfast," I winked. "I'm saving you for dinner."

Danny giggled at that, which made both of us feel better. I didn't want the boy to be nervous around me, I made enough people nervous back home as it was.

I guess he was taking me at my word, because he came all the way into the bathroom and hopped up onto the counter. Danny looked me over, feet swinging.

"Why do you have a mustache?" he asked me suddenly.

I pulled the shirt on over my head. "Because I do," I replied. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Only guys I've ever seen with just mustaches are those hipster guys- and you're not a hipster."