Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (JoeMazzello!JohnDeacon fanfic)

four

lowkey wishing i'd made roxanne part of someone to love. i think she and Rebecca would get on swimmingly

++|++

Roger and Freddie's shop in Kensington actually had a couple of nice things in it.

Roxanne was in the middle of looking over a leather skirt when Roger came in from out the front, where he'd been trying to talk a woman into buying a truly hideous brown blouse.

"How'd it go?" Freddie asked, walking behind Roxanne and dropping a large sun hat on her head.

"She told me to piss off," he huffed, "Can you believe it? It's almost half past two in the afternoon, the street is mobbed and we haven't sold one thing."

"Well, you know why that is, don't you?"

He narrows his eyes at his cousin as she tries on a pair of star-shaped sunglasses, "No. Please enlighten me, Sherlock."

"You're setting your prices too high. If I were you guys, I'd write a higher price on the tickets, more than what you're actually wanting. That way, when they try and haggle with you, you're still making a profit and they think that they're getting a deal."

The two men look at each other.

"Is it just me or did that actually make sense?" Freddie asks.

"Genius," Roger mutters, kissing her cheek, "You're a fucking genius."

She grins at him, laughing when he bats the lid of the hat down over her eyes, "Do you want a hand? There has to be something I can do around here."

"Er..." he thinks for a second, "Oh, you could dress the mannequins for the window if you'd like. Freddie normally does them but I'm sure he won't mind letting you do it."

Freddie waves a hand, he's busy making a start on rewriting their tickets, "Go ahead, darling. Though I do ask that you let me see your choices before you put them on."

"Of course, Mr Mercury," Roxanne giggles, ruffling his hair as she walks by him to get to the small storage room to hunt through some of their boxes.

As she digs through the boxes, she listens to the small radio that they've got plugged in.

"Now Ziggy really sang, screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo..." she sings quietly, laying out clothes that go well together.

"You're pretty and you can sing," Freddie says from behind her, scaring her half to death because she didn't know that he was there, "You really are Roger's cousin, huh?"

She shakes her head, "I don't sing very often."

"Hm," he picks up one of the shirts she's got laid out, "Maybe when we make it big, we can have you feature on one of our songs."

That wouldn't be happening. The singing, she means. Not the band getting big. She didn't know when or how, but those boys were going to be going places.

++|++

Brian stops by the shop on his way home -he's doing a placement as a maths teacher for the next year at a school not ten minutes away, though they too have just broken up for the summer.

Roger snorts as he comes in with his fancy outfit and briefcase, "Bloody hell, mate. Look at you. But you're an hour early too early. We don't shut till five. You'll have to walk home."

"'m not here for a lift, Roger," he rolls his eyes, "I'm here for Roxy. She is still here, isn't she?"

Eyebrows furrowed, Roger nods and calls for Roxy, "Brian's here for you!"