You know nothing of Javert
Dec. 31st, 2012 04:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arch_calzenFandom: Cabin Pressure
Character(s), Pairing(s): the crew, minor OMC
Rating: K
Genre: Humour
Word count: 2,272
Summary: The prompt was, "Douglas plays Javert for Fitton's production of Les Miz", which was generously non-restrictive, so I sort of got carried away.
Douglas entered the cabin at the precise time he had intended to arrive on. The fact that it was half an hour past the time Carolyn had intended him to arrive at didn’t count.
Surprisingly, while the room certainly contained a short ginger pilot and an overly self-confident woman who thought she was the Alpha dog, it was suspiciously devoid of Arthur.
“What a wonderful morning. A wonderful quiet peaceful morning. Carolyn, have you forgotten your own son at home?” he announced in a way of greeting, giving an acknowledging nod to Martin as he strode towards the rack to hang his coat.
“Ha. Ha. No,” Carolyn dropped and took a sip of her tea before leaning back in her chair. “He merely stopped to look at the magazines in that shop at the entrance.”
Douglas glanced at her. “But that would mean he’d be ten, maybe fifteen minutes behind you. Do you imply that hell has finally frozen over and the most industrious I-will-bite-your-heads-off-if-you-are-not-here-on-time you were actually late?”
Carolyn snorted. “Hell is just as peachy as always, I am sure of that. I wasn’t late, if you are so eager to know,” she paused, frowning in confusion. “But that is really interesting. Why is he still not here?”
That was when the door burst open (Martin started and sent a neat pile of papers falling from his desk and scattering on the floor) and Arthur stormed in, waving something clutched in his hand.
“CHAPS!! This is so brilliant I can’t even- OH HI Douglas! Hi Skip! You guys should see it!”
“See what, exactly?” Douglas replied in a resigned tone of voice. “If you would just stop waving that- whatever it is you have, I fear the blurry spot might irritate someone’s poor inner ear.”
“My ear is perfectly fine, thank you so very much for reminding everyone of it AGAIN!” Martin’s muffled yell reached them from under his desk, where he was still collecting the papers, apparently.
“Oh, sorry, Skip! Yes, of course- And it’s just a newspaper,” Arthur slowed down finally, making it possible for everyone to see that there was indeed a rolled up ‘Fitton Daily’ in his grasp. He smoothed it out quickly and showed to Douglas and Carolyn like a magician would show an honest-to-God-empty box before carrying out the trick. A second later, he opened it somewhere near the middle.
“’Les Misérables, Fitton verse'!” he announced in his best dramatic and intriguing voice. Which wasn’t very dramatic or intriguing, but the effort was obvious. Before Arthur could continue, Douglas interrupted him.
“Ah, so that is what the whole fuss is about,” he drawled out. “Quite a major event for our hometown, isn’t it?”
“Wait, what?” Martin resurfaced, resting his chin upon the desk. “What do you mean, ‘Fitton verse’?”
“I would have told you already, but Douglas didn’t let me finish!” Arthur whined before grinning widely again. “It is our own staging of the musical, isn’t that brilliant? There are even photos from earlier versions, whoa, Douglas, this guy from Original London Cast looks like you- look, here is a small interview from the director… Err… Mr Peter Winbore. ‘Of course, nobody would expect our little city to claim the ability to stage ‘Les Miz’, but that’s the thrill of it!’ This Winbore chap must know what he is talking about, this will be absolutely amazing, we should go and see it when it is finished.”
“Well, Pete was never exactly known for his ability to not brag a bit when an opportunity presents itself,” Douglas mused. “I’d advise you not to read the rest of the interview, it might be too much for an unprepared mind.”
“Wow, Douglas, so you know the director?” Arthur beamed with excitement and even jumped a bit. Carolyn quirked an eyebrow silently, Martin froze under the desk, afraid of missing anything.
“I do know him, yes. We went to drama classes together when we were eleven.”
“Somehow, I am not really surprised,” Martin climbed to his chair and carefully placed the stack back on the desk.
“About the fact that Douglas seems to know every man in the city, or that he went to drama classes?” Carolyn decided to clarify. Martin paused to ponder.
“Both, actually.”
“Listen, listen, here’s another curious thing,” Arthur waved the paper a bit to get his attention before reading out an excerpt at rapid speed. “’Of course, there is an obvious problem with assembling the cast. We need a lot of people to participate in the musical, and while it is fairly easy to get enthusiasts to play minor characters or join the choir, our little team has already faced the problem of finding the right people for the main roles. However, three months have passed since the whole idea was first mentioned, and now we have actors for most of the main characters.’ Interviewer comments that the chap ‘laughs’. ‘And I have to say I shamelessly use my position of the director to promote people I know personally, though, of course, talent, skill and desire to work as a team come first. For example, Ben Buckery, my college friend, agreed to play Jean Valjean, another fellow, Douglas Richardson, will be Javert, and I’m proud to say my elder daughter Valerie and her friend Emma Rackshire graciously accepted the offer to be cast as Cosette and Éponine’- wait- ‘Douglas Richardson will be Ja-‘ Douglaaas?”
“Oh dear, I think it’s broken him,” the man in question glanced at him sideways while Arthur continued to sputter.
“Huh, so you don’t only know the director, but also are going to take part in the very thing?” Carolyn inquired, quirking another eyebrow.
“Now THAT is a bit surprising, I admit,” Martin nodded.
“Doug- Douglas, but- THIS IS BRILLIANT!!” Arthur finally regained the ability to form at least partial sentences and applied it to express his utter excitement. “Will you actually wear a- that weird long sort-of-jacket and a hat and carry a truncheon around?”
“It is called a redingote, and yes, I will,” Douglas replied and couldn’t help asking, “Pardon my surprise, but have you actually read the book?”
“No!” Arthur beamed. “But I’ve seen the musical three years ago, that 25th Anniversary or something. We saw it with Mum. Right, Mum?”
Douglas turned to Carolyn in disbelief. “What? Have you voluntarily gone to watch a musical? I do not recognize you, ma’am, what have you done to our CEO?”
“Very funny, Douglas. And no, I haven’t. I mean, it wasn’t voluntary. Herc just… sort of dragged me there. I told him I wasn’t going to enjoy it, but nevertheless. So I dragged Arthur along so that he would irritate the hell out of that miserable man, but ended up with Arthur following me around for the next two days quoting the lyrics! You were lucky there were two days off, otherwise I wouldn’t have been the only one to suffer.”
“That was…” Arthur closed his eyes dreamily. “Absolutely brilliant.”
“I didn’t doubt that for a second,” Douglas confirmed.
“This is really amazing that you get to play in the musical,” Arthur returned to the main topic. “But personally, I wouldn’t make you Javert. I mean, he is… he doesn’t look like a brilliant person. A bit mean, he is.”
“Mean?!” Martin exclaimed. “I am sorry, but I think that the character is seriously misjudged and underestimated! You dedicate your life to something, you do your work and you do it perfectly, and then people look at you and call you evil. Is there any just in this world?”
“…That was impressive,” Douglas mused at the sudden outburst. “Though I guess I know why Martin sides with Javert, the greatest stickler to the rules of the nineteenth century.”
“Hmm, now I agree with Arthur. Seriously, you playing a stickler? You don’t even follow the rules you have set yourself, not to mention the ones us mere mortals follow,” Carolyn interjected.
“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” Douglas put all his dignity in the sentence and changed the topic. “What, Martin, and are you the book or the musical fan? Or maybe you fancy one of the movies?”
Martin huffed. “The book, actually. I mean, I really wanted to see the musicals, because I was curious, but at first I had no time studying for exams, then I had no spare money to buy a ticket… You know. I’ve never seen any version of the musical.”
“Oh, but that’s a shame. What about records? I believe youtube would provide plenty of them.”
“Probably, yes, but that’s not the same.”
“I see,” Douglas turned to Carolyn. “So, are we going to Venice or are we not? This is a lovely chat we have here, but if this chat turns out to be the only reason I drove all the way to the airfield, then I’m not flying to New Delhi next Friday.”
“Like hell you are not flying. Come on, monkeys, off we go,” Carolyn didn’t sound the least bit intimidated.
* * *
“Oh come on, even you can’t be that cool,” Martin teased good-naturedly, and Douglas decided to play along.
“While the ‘even you’ construction is certainly flattering, I am going to masterfully prove you wrong. Brace yourselves, mortals.”
Douglas cleared his throat. Martin smirked and switched the intercom on. The older man’s rich voice filled the aeroplane.
“There, out in the darkness, a fugitive running, fallen from God, fallen from grace…”
“God be my witness, Douglas Richardson,” Carolyn’s voice reached them, “if you don’t shut your face and stop imitating a cat whose tail is being stepped on-”
“But Carolyn, I am the Law, and the Law is not mocked!” Douglas nearly spat out the last word in feigned indignation. Martin covered his mouth with both hands to stifle a laugh and was already turning a disturbing shade of red from the effort.
“Not ‘mocked’, no, but how about ‘sporting a black eye’?”
Douglas huffed. “Your methods of influence are astonishing, as always.”
“Yes, my thought exactly. You should call Peter and tell him to make me Javert instead of you, I’ll do so much better.”
“Wow, I doubt that,” Martin joined the conversation with a laugh. “There is a scene when Javert holds his truncheon with his teeth and-”
“Ah, thank you, Martin, that makes sense,” the CEO replied. “Alpha dogs don’t carry sticks, they have Beta dogs to do that.”
“Touché,” Douglas grudgingly agreed, making a memento to later win back the gap she now had on him in their not really official who-is-the-Alpha-dog competition. “And we don’t have that scene, I’m afraid.”
“Ow,” Martin frowned. “They’ve cut down the plot really much, haven’t they.”
“Otherwise the audience would have to bring sleeping bags and cook marshmallow on portable gas burners, the show would last forever.”
Martin let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t mind, though.”
Douglas narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “You really are a fan, aren’t you?”
“What? I like the book.”
* * *
At the end of the day, Douglas was lounging lazily in his bed, thinking over the events of the day. He wasn’t surprised that the crew found out about his participation in the musical. But he was surprised, though, that Carolyn and Arthur had both seen it, while Martin had only read the book.
Douglas shifted his position. Though, no, that was not surprising, either.
Speaking of Martin. The obvious topic of the whole flight was the musical, and during the discussion it appeared to Douglas that Martin was still keen on watching it somehow, and watching it live.
The man opened his eyes, and a mischievous spark glinted in them as he contemplated the fact. What if he could not only get him to watch it, but actually-?
Douglas sat up, leaning back against the headboard. The thought demanded serious consideration.
On one hand, Martin didn’t strike anyone as a person born to be an actor, considering the way he usually bollocks social interactions. But on the other hand, he always sounded quite confident when addressing passengers via the intercom, so perhaps there would not be a problem with fear of stage.
Douglas remembered the times when Martin joined his singing or just hummed something to himself. He had a nice baritone, granted. Pete said he’d want a tenor for that role, but would also be satisfied with a baritone if he had one.
Besides, Martin was light enough to make carrying him around easy for anyone even remotely strong. Douglas wasn’t sure they had that particular scene, but if they had, the man’s weight wouldn’t be a problem.
Douglas paused and indulged a thought that it would suit Martin to play Lesgles, the two men’s tremendous bad luck would be entirely the same. Though… No, that was a careless thought. Who knew what catastrophe would occur if Lesgles’ and Martin’s ominous traits joined forces?
Douglas dismissed the idea with a small chuckle and returned to the previous train of thought.
This was really the perfect combination. With the man’s apparent dedication to the book, he would surely do his best. Of course, there were van jobs to be scheduled with rehearsals, and Martin would obviously eat their brains out with a spoon while working through his various and predictable problems, and yet, and yet…
Douglas glanced at his watch. It was quite late, but he knew Pete to still be up at this time. He reached for his mobile phone and dialed the number.
“Peter Winbore.”
“Hello, old man. It’s Douglas. I think you’ll be happy to hear I’ve found us a Marius.”
Character(s), Pairing(s): the crew, minor OMC
Rating: K
Genre: Humour
Word count: 2,272
Summary: The prompt was, "Douglas plays Javert for Fitton's production of Les Miz", which was generously non-restrictive, so I sort of got carried away.
Douglas entered the cabin at the precise time he had intended to arrive on. The fact that it was half an hour past the time Carolyn had intended him to arrive at didn’t count.
Surprisingly, while the room certainly contained a short ginger pilot and an overly self-confident woman who thought she was the Alpha dog, it was suspiciously devoid of Arthur.
“What a wonderful morning. A wonderful quiet peaceful morning. Carolyn, have you forgotten your own son at home?” he announced in a way of greeting, giving an acknowledging nod to Martin as he strode towards the rack to hang his coat.
“Ha. Ha. No,” Carolyn dropped and took a sip of her tea before leaning back in her chair. “He merely stopped to look at the magazines in that shop at the entrance.”
Douglas glanced at her. “But that would mean he’d be ten, maybe fifteen minutes behind you. Do you imply that hell has finally frozen over and the most industrious I-will-bite-your-heads-off-if-you-are-not-here-on-time you were actually late?”
Carolyn snorted. “Hell is just as peachy as always, I am sure of that. I wasn’t late, if you are so eager to know,” she paused, frowning in confusion. “But that is really interesting. Why is he still not here?”
That was when the door burst open (Martin started and sent a neat pile of papers falling from his desk and scattering on the floor) and Arthur stormed in, waving something clutched in his hand.
“CHAPS!! This is so brilliant I can’t even- OH HI Douglas! Hi Skip! You guys should see it!”
“See what, exactly?” Douglas replied in a resigned tone of voice. “If you would just stop waving that- whatever it is you have, I fear the blurry spot might irritate someone’s poor inner ear.”
“My ear is perfectly fine, thank you so very much for reminding everyone of it AGAIN!” Martin’s muffled yell reached them from under his desk, where he was still collecting the papers, apparently.
“Oh, sorry, Skip! Yes, of course- And it’s just a newspaper,” Arthur slowed down finally, making it possible for everyone to see that there was indeed a rolled up ‘Fitton Daily’ in his grasp. He smoothed it out quickly and showed to Douglas and Carolyn like a magician would show an honest-to-God-empty box before carrying out the trick. A second later, he opened it somewhere near the middle.
“’Les Misérables, Fitton verse'!” he announced in his best dramatic and intriguing voice. Which wasn’t very dramatic or intriguing, but the effort was obvious. Before Arthur could continue, Douglas interrupted him.
“Ah, so that is what the whole fuss is about,” he drawled out. “Quite a major event for our hometown, isn’t it?”
“Wait, what?” Martin resurfaced, resting his chin upon the desk. “What do you mean, ‘Fitton verse’?”
“I would have told you already, but Douglas didn’t let me finish!” Arthur whined before grinning widely again. “It is our own staging of the musical, isn’t that brilliant? There are even photos from earlier versions, whoa, Douglas, this guy from Original London Cast looks like you- look, here is a small interview from the director… Err… Mr Peter Winbore. ‘Of course, nobody would expect our little city to claim the ability to stage ‘Les Miz’, but that’s the thrill of it!’ This Winbore chap must know what he is talking about, this will be absolutely amazing, we should go and see it when it is finished.”
“Well, Pete was never exactly known for his ability to not brag a bit when an opportunity presents itself,” Douglas mused. “I’d advise you not to read the rest of the interview, it might be too much for an unprepared mind.”
“Wow, Douglas, so you know the director?” Arthur beamed with excitement and even jumped a bit. Carolyn quirked an eyebrow silently, Martin froze under the desk, afraid of missing anything.
“I do know him, yes. We went to drama classes together when we were eleven.”
“Somehow, I am not really surprised,” Martin climbed to his chair and carefully placed the stack back on the desk.
“About the fact that Douglas seems to know every man in the city, or that he went to drama classes?” Carolyn decided to clarify. Martin paused to ponder.
“Both, actually.”
“Listen, listen, here’s another curious thing,” Arthur waved the paper a bit to get his attention before reading out an excerpt at rapid speed. “’Of course, there is an obvious problem with assembling the cast. We need a lot of people to participate in the musical, and while it is fairly easy to get enthusiasts to play minor characters or join the choir, our little team has already faced the problem of finding the right people for the main roles. However, three months have passed since the whole idea was first mentioned, and now we have actors for most of the main characters.’ Interviewer comments that the chap ‘laughs’. ‘And I have to say I shamelessly use my position of the director to promote people I know personally, though, of course, talent, skill and desire to work as a team come first. For example, Ben Buckery, my college friend, agreed to play Jean Valjean, another fellow, Douglas Richardson, will be Javert, and I’m proud to say my elder daughter Valerie and her friend Emma Rackshire graciously accepted the offer to be cast as Cosette and Éponine’- wait- ‘Douglas Richardson will be Ja-‘ Douglaaas?”
“Oh dear, I think it’s broken him,” the man in question glanced at him sideways while Arthur continued to sputter.
“Huh, so you don’t only know the director, but also are going to take part in the very thing?” Carolyn inquired, quirking another eyebrow.
“Now THAT is a bit surprising, I admit,” Martin nodded.
“Doug- Douglas, but- THIS IS BRILLIANT!!” Arthur finally regained the ability to form at least partial sentences and applied it to express his utter excitement. “Will you actually wear a- that weird long sort-of-jacket and a hat and carry a truncheon around?”
“It is called a redingote, and yes, I will,” Douglas replied and couldn’t help asking, “Pardon my surprise, but have you actually read the book?”
“No!” Arthur beamed. “But I’ve seen the musical three years ago, that 25th Anniversary or something. We saw it with Mum. Right, Mum?”
Douglas turned to Carolyn in disbelief. “What? Have you voluntarily gone to watch a musical? I do not recognize you, ma’am, what have you done to our CEO?”
“Very funny, Douglas. And no, I haven’t. I mean, it wasn’t voluntary. Herc just… sort of dragged me there. I told him I wasn’t going to enjoy it, but nevertheless. So I dragged Arthur along so that he would irritate the hell out of that miserable man, but ended up with Arthur following me around for the next two days quoting the lyrics! You were lucky there were two days off, otherwise I wouldn’t have been the only one to suffer.”
“That was…” Arthur closed his eyes dreamily. “Absolutely brilliant.”
“I didn’t doubt that for a second,” Douglas confirmed.
“This is really amazing that you get to play in the musical,” Arthur returned to the main topic. “But personally, I wouldn’t make you Javert. I mean, he is… he doesn’t look like a brilliant person. A bit mean, he is.”
“Mean?!” Martin exclaimed. “I am sorry, but I think that the character is seriously misjudged and underestimated! You dedicate your life to something, you do your work and you do it perfectly, and then people look at you and call you evil. Is there any just in this world?”
“…That was impressive,” Douglas mused at the sudden outburst. “Though I guess I know why Martin sides with Javert, the greatest stickler to the rules of the nineteenth century.”
“Hmm, now I agree with Arthur. Seriously, you playing a stickler? You don’t even follow the rules you have set yourself, not to mention the ones us mere mortals follow,” Carolyn interjected.
“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” Douglas put all his dignity in the sentence and changed the topic. “What, Martin, and are you the book or the musical fan? Or maybe you fancy one of the movies?”
Martin huffed. “The book, actually. I mean, I really wanted to see the musicals, because I was curious, but at first I had no time studying for exams, then I had no spare money to buy a ticket… You know. I’ve never seen any version of the musical.”
“Oh, but that’s a shame. What about records? I believe youtube would provide plenty of them.”
“Probably, yes, but that’s not the same.”
“I see,” Douglas turned to Carolyn. “So, are we going to Venice or are we not? This is a lovely chat we have here, but if this chat turns out to be the only reason I drove all the way to the airfield, then I’m not flying to New Delhi next Friday.”
“Like hell you are not flying. Come on, monkeys, off we go,” Carolyn didn’t sound the least bit intimidated.
* * *
“Oh come on, even you can’t be that cool,” Martin teased good-naturedly, and Douglas decided to play along.
“While the ‘even you’ construction is certainly flattering, I am going to masterfully prove you wrong. Brace yourselves, mortals.”
Douglas cleared his throat. Martin smirked and switched the intercom on. The older man’s rich voice filled the aeroplane.
“There, out in the darkness, a fugitive running, fallen from God, fallen from grace…”
“God be my witness, Douglas Richardson,” Carolyn’s voice reached them, “if you don’t shut your face and stop imitating a cat whose tail is being stepped on-”
“But Carolyn, I am the Law, and the Law is not mocked!” Douglas nearly spat out the last word in feigned indignation. Martin covered his mouth with both hands to stifle a laugh and was already turning a disturbing shade of red from the effort.
“Not ‘mocked’, no, but how about ‘sporting a black eye’?”
Douglas huffed. “Your methods of influence are astonishing, as always.”
“Yes, my thought exactly. You should call Peter and tell him to make me Javert instead of you, I’ll do so much better.”
“Wow, I doubt that,” Martin joined the conversation with a laugh. “There is a scene when Javert holds his truncheon with his teeth and-”
“Ah, thank you, Martin, that makes sense,” the CEO replied. “Alpha dogs don’t carry sticks, they have Beta dogs to do that.”
“Touché,” Douglas grudgingly agreed, making a memento to later win back the gap she now had on him in their not really official who-is-the-Alpha-dog competition. “And we don’t have that scene, I’m afraid.”
“Ow,” Martin frowned. “They’ve cut down the plot really much, haven’t they.”
“Otherwise the audience would have to bring sleeping bags and cook marshmallow on portable gas burners, the show would last forever.”
Martin let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t mind, though.”
Douglas narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “You really are a fan, aren’t you?”
“What? I like the book.”
* * *
At the end of the day, Douglas was lounging lazily in his bed, thinking over the events of the day. He wasn’t surprised that the crew found out about his participation in the musical. But he was surprised, though, that Carolyn and Arthur had both seen it, while Martin had only read the book.
Douglas shifted his position. Though, no, that was not surprising, either.
Speaking of Martin. The obvious topic of the whole flight was the musical, and during the discussion it appeared to Douglas that Martin was still keen on watching it somehow, and watching it live.
The man opened his eyes, and a mischievous spark glinted in them as he contemplated the fact. What if he could not only get him to watch it, but actually-?
Douglas sat up, leaning back against the headboard. The thought demanded serious consideration.
On one hand, Martin didn’t strike anyone as a person born to be an actor, considering the way he usually bollocks social interactions. But on the other hand, he always sounded quite confident when addressing passengers via the intercom, so perhaps there would not be a problem with fear of stage.
Douglas remembered the times when Martin joined his singing or just hummed something to himself. He had a nice baritone, granted. Pete said he’d want a tenor for that role, but would also be satisfied with a baritone if he had one.
Besides, Martin was light enough to make carrying him around easy for anyone even remotely strong. Douglas wasn’t sure they had that particular scene, but if they had, the man’s weight wouldn’t be a problem.
Douglas paused and indulged a thought that it would suit Martin to play Lesgles, the two men’s tremendous bad luck would be entirely the same. Though… No, that was a careless thought. Who knew what catastrophe would occur if Lesgles’ and Martin’s ominous traits joined forces?
Douglas dismissed the idea with a small chuckle and returned to the previous train of thought.
This was really the perfect combination. With the man’s apparent dedication to the book, he would surely do his best. Of course, there were van jobs to be scheduled with rehearsals, and Martin would obviously eat their brains out with a spoon while working through his various and predictable problems, and yet, and yet…
Douglas glanced at his watch. It was quite late, but he knew Pete to still be up at this time. He reached for his mobile phone and dialed the number.
“Peter Winbore.”
“Hello, old man. It’s Douglas. I think you’ll be happy to hear I’ve found us a Marius.”
