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person4Title: Time Management
Fandom: Gorillaz
Characters: Murdoc, Noodle, and Russel
Notes: For June fic-a-day
Time management had never quite been what anyone would call a Gorillaz strong point. Though they'd manage to get to where they needed to be in the end it tended to be a close thing; a clock might catch Murdoc's eye after he'd drained his fifth drink of the night or the painkillers might kick in and dull the constant pain in 2D's head enough for him to read the clock without the numbers swirling before his eyes and only then would the band spring into action, fifteen minutes or more after they'd meant to. Murdoc was fairly sure that the only reason they usually made it in the nick of time anyway was because Noodle had started secretly mucking with the schedule to make them think they had to get moving sooner than they really did.
But even for them they'd managed to make a mess of it this time. Really, they should have dragged themselves away from Manchester a day early; they all knew that the first thing that happened when they hit a new place, regardless of whatever else they had to do there, was a thorough exploration of the city's bars. And Lisbon was an awfully big city to get through in the amount of time they had.
"Oh, fuck fuck fuck!" Murdoc swore, storming out of the last bar. They were so late that for the first time ever they'd have to put their complete faith in the stage crew to get everything right because there would be no time to check their work before going on, assuming that they were there in time to go on stage at all. And on the night they were pulling out the Pepper's Ghost trick for the first time! "All right, I'm driving. No chance that you're getting us there fast enough to make it, Tubs."
"No way, Muds," Russel replied, moving faster than a man his size had any right to in order to slam himself into the driver's seat before Murdoc could get there. "You're drunk off your ass, man, you try and next thing we know 2D'll be flyin' out the window into another coma."
"An' I don't have another eye to break!" 2D piped in mournfully.
Murdoc glared balefully at them both, before turning his back on them and storming away. "Fine then, I'll find another car! At least one member of Gorillaz'll be there when they're supposed to."
"Wait!" Noodle called after him, and he paused without turning back when he heard her running after him. "I will come with you."
"Well then, we'll have bass, guitar, and De La Soul. We can manage a show out of that, even if the other bastards never make it. Hear that?" he called back to Russel and 2D. "Take two long and we might just shock and dazzle the world with a last second switch to DARE!"
Russel ignored him and called after Noodle, "Sweetheart, don't do that. You remember what he drives like when he's mostly sober don't you?"
"All the more reason for me to be with him," she calmly replied. "Who has better reflexes for safely grabbing the wheel away from him if needed? Most people would yank it to far the other way if they tried!" She turned her attention back to Murdoc, bumping up against his side and smiling brightly up at him. "Besides, I'm not so mean that I would make you go off all on your own."
"Murdoc, you get into an accident that hurts her and you better hope you come out of it dead, 'cause if I get my hands on you..." Russel trailed off menacingly.
"Yes, yes," Murdoc said, rolling his eyes. Honestly Russel was making much too big a deal of this, his head felt perfectly clear. "Noodle'll be safe as house. Now get the fuck on the road before you're even later!"
"Ah, you do have a plan for getting a car, right Murdoc?" Noodle asked as they left the others behind.
"Of course I do, love," he said, pressing his hand into the small of her back so he could guide her towards the road. "Couldn't very well show those two idiots up if we ended up stuck out here without a ride, now can we?" When they reached the road he whistled for the first cab he saw, and before it had even come to a complete stop he'd yanked open the door and dragged the driver out. Now there was a lasting lesson for him about why he should bother with his seatbelt. "Pay the man, darling," he told Noodle, not especially giving a shit whether or not he'd end up stealing the cab outright but knowing that just taking off in it would bother her. "We've got a show to make."
She pulled a great overflowing fistful of bills out of her pockets--the safest place in the world for her to keep them, all things considered; if she had a little more space and was willing to pay out interest he'd be willing to make his own deposit in "Little Miss Super Soldier Bank and Trust"--and passed them onto to the taxi driver saying something to him in rapid Portuguese. Murdoc assumed. Could be Spanish for all he knew, but being in Portugal made it a safe bet. The driver didn't look entirely happy when she was done, but didn't stop her when she went around and got in on the passenger's side. Murdoc notices that as she went behind the car she paused briefly to wretch the license plate straight off.
"I told him that we will return his car to the taxi company later tonight, so at least be sure to park legally so it isn't towed away while we're performing. And without this he hopefully won't get in trouble for whatever you do on the road on the way there." She dropped the plate to the floor at her feet.
"Who said anything about the road, love?" he asked, and pulled onto the sidewalk the moment the engine was running, blasting his horn to warn people to get the hell out of the way as he picked up speed. "Much faster than dealing with traffic, isn't it?"
She laughed softly and leaned against her door, watching him instead of the way before them in spite of what she'd told Russel. "One would think you'd be a little safer when you aren't showboating for the camera."
"Safe doesn't get us where we're going in time, now does it?" He tore through a red light, dodging through the space between two cars, then veered towards a park he spotted in the right direction of where they needed to go; the grass would make for a much clearer space to drive on. "Don't stop complaining now, you're the one who picked me over those other losers."
She blinked at him then smiled slightly. "I supposed you're right, I did. But I was not complaining, simply... reminiscing, perhaps?" She cracked her window, letting the wind tear through the hair the way it did in the Geep, and sang softly to herself, "Get the cool shoeshine... Did you know that at the time I thought that what you were having me sing must be something very meaningful, as you had me repeat it so many times? It was a little disappointing once I remembered my English and could understand!"
"I don't think 'Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, white light' counts a paragon of deepness either, love, so don't start in on my songs. Or shall we have a chat about Rock It?"
"I only thought that it was a funny story, Murdoc, I was not attempting to insult you. Music does not always need to be deep." She reached out, touched his wrist. "I love your music, Muds. I would much rather listen to it than my own; listening to your own creation is never so satisfying as sharing another person's vision."
He had no fucking clue if she meant for him to read anything into that or was just being completely straightforward, if music meant music or was poorly hiding a metaphor. Hell, he didn't even know if there was a difference with her, when her desire seemed to be directly tied to her ears. But he decided to hope that it was the former and put it out of his mind; love had never been the plan, and he didn't even want to think about how he was meant to deal with it if it had reared its ugly head. Instead he focused on steering the cab down a small flight of stairs into the park, and the wide green spaces within it.
Once it was much less likely that he'd slam into a pedestrian or swerve into traffic if he took his eyes off the windshield for an instant he yanked off his shirt, then started unbuttoning his fly one-handed. Better to be ready for the show as soon as they got there. "My cape and hat are in my bag, love. Dig them out, will you?" he asked while he focused on trying to kick off his shoes so he could get his trousers down without jamming them under the pedals. It would be a good way to scuff the hell out of the leather.
He assumed that she'd just set them down where he could grab them, but before he had a chance to realize what her actual plan is she said, "Be especially careful not to crash while I'm unbuckled," then unsnapped her seatbelt so she could lean over to him. Her arms wrapped around him in what could easily be mistaken for a loose hug, her chest pressing against his arm, as she pulled the cape around his shoulders. Her hair brushed against his cheek when she neatly pinned the cape into place, and then she pulled away again with as little fanfare as she'd moved in, pausing only to drop the hat on his head. "All done!"
He pushed the hat down a little more firmly on his head then glanced over at her. "How do I look, love?"
It would have been very, very, easy for her to hide how closely she looked him over. All it would have taken was closing her window and her fringe would have fallen back into place over her eyes hiding them completely. But she didn't, whether because she didn't think of it or didn't want to hide it, so the way she slowly looked down his body and back up again was perfectly obvious to him, and if she didn't stop to ogle his crotch longer than anywhere else, well, her eyes didn't jump right over it either. Finally she met his eyes and one side of her lips curled up into a lopsided smile as she replied, "Like it would have been much easier if you'd simply gone on in your street clothes the way I intend to."
"Honestly, darling, how'd you manage to get a head packed with so much talent but so little theatricality? You don't just wear any old thing you yanked out of your closet for a gig like this!" He heard sirens in the distance and glanced into his mirrors and spotted police cars coming up on the roads around the park, apparently unwilling to veer out onto the grass the way he was. It was a little surprising that they'd taken so long, if he were one of the citizens of Lisbon he'd be a little concerned at how long it had taken them to get their arses in gear over someone tearing around playing 'avoid the pedestrians' at seventy miles per hour in the middle of the city. "But we can have a talk about your taste in concert costumes later. For now, buckle back up love! It's time to find out how fast this pile of crap can really go."
Fandom: Gorillaz
Characters: Murdoc, Noodle, and Russel
Notes: For June fic-a-day
Time management had never quite been what anyone would call a Gorillaz strong point. Though they'd manage to get to where they needed to be in the end it tended to be a close thing; a clock might catch Murdoc's eye after he'd drained his fifth drink of the night or the painkillers might kick in and dull the constant pain in 2D's head enough for him to read the clock without the numbers swirling before his eyes and only then would the band spring into action, fifteen minutes or more after they'd meant to. Murdoc was fairly sure that the only reason they usually made it in the nick of time anyway was because Noodle had started secretly mucking with the schedule to make them think they had to get moving sooner than they really did.
But even for them they'd managed to make a mess of it this time. Really, they should have dragged themselves away from Manchester a day early; they all knew that the first thing that happened when they hit a new place, regardless of whatever else they had to do there, was a thorough exploration of the city's bars. And Lisbon was an awfully big city to get through in the amount of time they had.
"Oh, fuck fuck fuck!" Murdoc swore, storming out of the last bar. They were so late that for the first time ever they'd have to put their complete faith in the stage crew to get everything right because there would be no time to check their work before going on, assuming that they were there in time to go on stage at all. And on the night they were pulling out the Pepper's Ghost trick for the first time! "All right, I'm driving. No chance that you're getting us there fast enough to make it, Tubs."
"No way, Muds," Russel replied, moving faster than a man his size had any right to in order to slam himself into the driver's seat before Murdoc could get there. "You're drunk off your ass, man, you try and next thing we know 2D'll be flyin' out the window into another coma."
"An' I don't have another eye to break!" 2D piped in mournfully.
Murdoc glared balefully at them both, before turning his back on them and storming away. "Fine then, I'll find another car! At least one member of Gorillaz'll be there when they're supposed to."
"Wait!" Noodle called after him, and he paused without turning back when he heard her running after him. "I will come with you."
"Well then, we'll have bass, guitar, and De La Soul. We can manage a show out of that, even if the other bastards never make it. Hear that?" he called back to Russel and 2D. "Take two long and we might just shock and dazzle the world with a last second switch to DARE!"
Russel ignored him and called after Noodle, "Sweetheart, don't do that. You remember what he drives like when he's mostly sober don't you?"
"All the more reason for me to be with him," she calmly replied. "Who has better reflexes for safely grabbing the wheel away from him if needed? Most people would yank it to far the other way if they tried!" She turned her attention back to Murdoc, bumping up against his side and smiling brightly up at him. "Besides, I'm not so mean that I would make you go off all on your own."
"Murdoc, you get into an accident that hurts her and you better hope you come out of it dead, 'cause if I get my hands on you..." Russel trailed off menacingly.
"Yes, yes," Murdoc said, rolling his eyes. Honestly Russel was making much too big a deal of this, his head felt perfectly clear. "Noodle'll be safe as house. Now get the fuck on the road before you're even later!"
"Ah, you do have a plan for getting a car, right Murdoc?" Noodle asked as they left the others behind.
"Of course I do, love," he said, pressing his hand into the small of her back so he could guide her towards the road. "Couldn't very well show those two idiots up if we ended up stuck out here without a ride, now can we?" When they reached the road he whistled for the first cab he saw, and before it had even come to a complete stop he'd yanked open the door and dragged the driver out. Now there was a lasting lesson for him about why he should bother with his seatbelt. "Pay the man, darling," he told Noodle, not especially giving a shit whether or not he'd end up stealing the cab outright but knowing that just taking off in it would bother her. "We've got a show to make."
She pulled a great overflowing fistful of bills out of her pockets--the safest place in the world for her to keep them, all things considered; if she had a little more space and was willing to pay out interest he'd be willing to make his own deposit in "Little Miss Super Soldier Bank and Trust"--and passed them onto to the taxi driver saying something to him in rapid Portuguese. Murdoc assumed. Could be Spanish for all he knew, but being in Portugal made it a safe bet. The driver didn't look entirely happy when she was done, but didn't stop her when she went around and got in on the passenger's side. Murdoc notices that as she went behind the car she paused briefly to wretch the license plate straight off.
"I told him that we will return his car to the taxi company later tonight, so at least be sure to park legally so it isn't towed away while we're performing. And without this he hopefully won't get in trouble for whatever you do on the road on the way there." She dropped the plate to the floor at her feet.
"Who said anything about the road, love?" he asked, and pulled onto the sidewalk the moment the engine was running, blasting his horn to warn people to get the hell out of the way as he picked up speed. "Much faster than dealing with traffic, isn't it?"
She laughed softly and leaned against her door, watching him instead of the way before them in spite of what she'd told Russel. "One would think you'd be a little safer when you aren't showboating for the camera."
"Safe doesn't get us where we're going in time, now does it?" He tore through a red light, dodging through the space between two cars, then veered towards a park he spotted in the right direction of where they needed to go; the grass would make for a much clearer space to drive on. "Don't stop complaining now, you're the one who picked me over those other losers."
She blinked at him then smiled slightly. "I supposed you're right, I did. But I was not complaining, simply... reminiscing, perhaps?" She cracked her window, letting the wind tear through the hair the way it did in the Geep, and sang softly to herself, "Get the cool shoeshine... Did you know that at the time I thought that what you were having me sing must be something very meaningful, as you had me repeat it so many times? It was a little disappointing once I remembered my English and could understand!"
"I don't think 'Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, white light' counts a paragon of deepness either, love, so don't start in on my songs. Or shall we have a chat about Rock It?"
"I only thought that it was a funny story, Murdoc, I was not attempting to insult you. Music does not always need to be deep." She reached out, touched his wrist. "I love your music, Muds. I would much rather listen to it than my own; listening to your own creation is never so satisfying as sharing another person's vision."
He had no fucking clue if she meant for him to read anything into that or was just being completely straightforward, if music meant music or was poorly hiding a metaphor. Hell, he didn't even know if there was a difference with her, when her desire seemed to be directly tied to her ears. But he decided to hope that it was the former and put it out of his mind; love had never been the plan, and he didn't even want to think about how he was meant to deal with it if it had reared its ugly head. Instead he focused on steering the cab down a small flight of stairs into the park, and the wide green spaces within it.
Once it was much less likely that he'd slam into a pedestrian or swerve into traffic if he took his eyes off the windshield for an instant he yanked off his shirt, then started unbuttoning his fly one-handed. Better to be ready for the show as soon as they got there. "My cape and hat are in my bag, love. Dig them out, will you?" he asked while he focused on trying to kick off his shoes so he could get his trousers down without jamming them under the pedals. It would be a good way to scuff the hell out of the leather.
He assumed that she'd just set them down where he could grab them, but before he had a chance to realize what her actual plan is she said, "Be especially careful not to crash while I'm unbuckled," then unsnapped her seatbelt so she could lean over to him. Her arms wrapped around him in what could easily be mistaken for a loose hug, her chest pressing against his arm, as she pulled the cape around his shoulders. Her hair brushed against his cheek when she neatly pinned the cape into place, and then she pulled away again with as little fanfare as she'd moved in, pausing only to drop the hat on his head. "All done!"
He pushed the hat down a little more firmly on his head then glanced over at her. "How do I look, love?"
It would have been very, very, easy for her to hide how closely she looked him over. All it would have taken was closing her window and her fringe would have fallen back into place over her eyes hiding them completely. But she didn't, whether because she didn't think of it or didn't want to hide it, so the way she slowly looked down his body and back up again was perfectly obvious to him, and if she didn't stop to ogle his crotch longer than anywhere else, well, her eyes didn't jump right over it either. Finally she met his eyes and one side of her lips curled up into a lopsided smile as she replied, "Like it would have been much easier if you'd simply gone on in your street clothes the way I intend to."
"Honestly, darling, how'd you manage to get a head packed with so much talent but so little theatricality? You don't just wear any old thing you yanked out of your closet for a gig like this!" He heard sirens in the distance and glanced into his mirrors and spotted police cars coming up on the roads around the park, apparently unwilling to veer out onto the grass the way he was. It was a little surprising that they'd taken so long, if he were one of the citizens of Lisbon he'd be a little concerned at how long it had taken them to get their arses in gear over someone tearing around playing 'avoid the pedestrians' at seventy miles per hour in the middle of the city. "But we can have a talk about your taste in concert costumes later. For now, buckle back up love! It's time to find out how fast this pile of crap can really go."