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beckymonsterAct I - Act II - Interval - Act III
All warnings and notes can be found in the Master Post
Gwen Cooper crept into her flat as quietly as anyone with years of practice of coming home at awkward hours could. Not that it mattered as Rhys was sprawled on the settee bathed in the light of some midnight monster movie on TV, fast asleep.
With a sigh she put her coat and bag onto the table and crouched down on the floor by where Rhys was resting his head. To anyone else it might seem cruel to wake him up but if she didn’t then he’d get the mother of all backaches and be grumbling throughout their weekend break to London. She’d been looking forward to this weekend too long for him to spoil it for her, so bed it was.
Just as Gwen was about to prod him awake, Rhys opened his eyes.
“Hello love!” he sleepily greeted her as he pushed himself into something that looked a more comfortable position. “Hope I didn’t make you jump.”
“No, dear, you didn’t,” Gwen lied as she shifted herself to perch on the side of the settee.
“What time is it?” Rhys asked, owlishly looking around for the remotes to turn the telly off.
“Gone three,” Gwen noted, stifling a yawn. It had been a hell of a shift, but it was now over and she wasn’t due back at work until Tuesday. She was happy to take her victories where she could get them.
“How bad was it out there tonight?” Rhys asked, holding his arms out to her for a cuddle.
“Bad enough.” Gwen noted, gratefully accepting his offer of a cuddle. Yes, she wanted her bed but a post-work cuddle and chat would make it easier to sleep. Weird but true.
“I dealt with at least two criers. The first one had been drinking all day and was, according to her so called friends, a maudlin drunk.” Gwen explained as Rhys made all the right noises. “The second had just found out that her boyfriend had been sleeping with half of Cathays.” Gwen frowned slightly. “She was more angry than upset.”
Rhys shifted uneasily next to her. “You didn’t give her any tips did you?”
Gwen regarded him warily. “Worried are you?” she asked sweetly, daring him to say anything.
“No, more concerned about the poor stupid bastard who’s been putting it about too much!” Rhys replied quickly. “You know the law too well. Enough to bend it but not break it. Besides, I have you. Why would I want anyone else?”
Gwen leaned in for a kiss. “Good save there, Williams”
“The rest of the night?” Rhys prompted after the kiss.
She shrugged. “The usual. Calming people down, getting propositioned by every Tom, Dick and Harry with either a uniform fetish or wanting to win the next round off their mates....”
“The usual then.” Rhys noted.
“There was one thing, mind.” Gwen noted, her expression turning pensive. “They must have been from out of town. Here for a conference or something,”
“What makes you say that, love?”
“Their accents for a start,” Gwen began, leaving out that the one in the military greatcoat was so gorgeous that if he was a local she would have remembered him. What the eyes don’t see and all that... “One was American and at least two of the others were from London or sounded like they were.”
Rhys made encouraging sounds.
“One of the party was singing,” she noted, “Loudly and well. She was a beautiful IC3, dressed in a lovely royal blue minidress with and gorgeous silver heels; which she was wobbling on a little... or that could be because she was stood precariously on the wall by the taxi rank on Castle St.”
“What was she singing?”
“She was singing ‘I am what I am’. Some of the drag queens were joining in as well-”
“The Gloria Gayor version or the musical version?” Rhys asked curiously.
“I didn’t even know that there was a difference!”
“Oh aye, they were talking about it on the radio today. Wedge Antilles from Star Wars, or rather the actor who played him, is in the production. Sounded good.” he noted, not quite sure how to take the incredulous look that Gwen was giving him. “What?”
“Nothing!” she replied, smothering her smile before continuing with her story.
“Anyway, I wandered over, just to make sure that everything was okay; when she was whisked off her feet by one of the guys in her party. Must have been her boyfriend.” she said. The gorgeous white American in the military greatcoat, sweeping the beautiful black woman who sang to the castle with heart and soul off her feet. It had looked like something out of a musical rather than a bank holiday weekend in the city. “She was laughing but I still asked one of the party if she was okay.”
“What did he say then?”
He’d been as beautifully turned out as he was look at; cute valleys accent too. One to remember and look out for in the future. “He smiled and said that she was just a bit tipsy. If she was drunk, she’d be singing ‘I Will Survive’”
Rhys laughed out loud at that before pushing himself up off the sofa. “I like that,” he said, reaching out to Gwen, “C’mon, bedtime!”
Gwen stood up, leaning in to kiss him as she did so. “There’s no reason that we can’t sleep on the train you know.”
She didn’t have to suggest the idea twice.
Act III
All warnings and notes can be found in the Master Post
Gwen Cooper crept into her flat as quietly as anyone with years of practice of coming home at awkward hours could. Not that it mattered as Rhys was sprawled on the settee bathed in the light of some midnight monster movie on TV, fast asleep.
With a sigh she put her coat and bag onto the table and crouched down on the floor by where Rhys was resting his head. To anyone else it might seem cruel to wake him up but if she didn’t then he’d get the mother of all backaches and be grumbling throughout their weekend break to London. She’d been looking forward to this weekend too long for him to spoil it for her, so bed it was.
Just as Gwen was about to prod him awake, Rhys opened his eyes.
“Hello love!” he sleepily greeted her as he pushed himself into something that looked a more comfortable position. “Hope I didn’t make you jump.”
“No, dear, you didn’t,” Gwen lied as she shifted herself to perch on the side of the settee.
“What time is it?” Rhys asked, owlishly looking around for the remotes to turn the telly off.
“Gone three,” Gwen noted, stifling a yawn. It had been a hell of a shift, but it was now over and she wasn’t due back at work until Tuesday. She was happy to take her victories where she could get them.
“How bad was it out there tonight?” Rhys asked, holding his arms out to her for a cuddle.
“Bad enough.” Gwen noted, gratefully accepting his offer of a cuddle. Yes, she wanted her bed but a post-work cuddle and chat would make it easier to sleep. Weird but true.
“I dealt with at least two criers. The first one had been drinking all day and was, according to her so called friends, a maudlin drunk.” Gwen explained as Rhys made all the right noises. “The second had just found out that her boyfriend had been sleeping with half of Cathays.” Gwen frowned slightly. “She was more angry than upset.”
Rhys shifted uneasily next to her. “You didn’t give her any tips did you?”
Gwen regarded him warily. “Worried are you?” she asked sweetly, daring him to say anything.
“No, more concerned about the poor stupid bastard who’s been putting it about too much!” Rhys replied quickly. “You know the law too well. Enough to bend it but not break it. Besides, I have you. Why would I want anyone else?”
Gwen leaned in for a kiss. “Good save there, Williams”
“The rest of the night?” Rhys prompted after the kiss.
She shrugged. “The usual. Calming people down, getting propositioned by every Tom, Dick and Harry with either a uniform fetish or wanting to win the next round off their mates....”
“The usual then.” Rhys noted.
“There was one thing, mind.” Gwen noted, her expression turning pensive. “They must have been from out of town. Here for a conference or something,”
“What makes you say that, love?”
“Their accents for a start,” Gwen began, leaving out that the one in the military greatcoat was so gorgeous that if he was a local she would have remembered him. What the eyes don’t see and all that... “One was American and at least two of the others were from London or sounded like they were.”
Rhys made encouraging sounds.
“One of the party was singing,” she noted, “Loudly and well. She was a beautiful IC3, dressed in a lovely royal blue minidress with and gorgeous silver heels; which she was wobbling on a little... or that could be because she was stood precariously on the wall by the taxi rank on Castle St.”
“What was she singing?”
“She was singing ‘I am what I am’. Some of the drag queens were joining in as well-”
“The Gloria Gayor version or the musical version?” Rhys asked curiously.
“I didn’t even know that there was a difference!”
“Oh aye, they were talking about it on the radio today. Wedge Antilles from Star Wars, or rather the actor who played him, is in the production. Sounded good.” he noted, not quite sure how to take the incredulous look that Gwen was giving him. “What?”
“Nothing!” she replied, smothering her smile before continuing with her story.
“Anyway, I wandered over, just to make sure that everything was okay; when she was whisked off her feet by one of the guys in her party. Must have been her boyfriend.” she said. The gorgeous white American in the military greatcoat, sweeping the beautiful black woman who sang to the castle with heart and soul off her feet. It had looked like something out of a musical rather than a bank holiday weekend in the city. “She was laughing but I still asked one of the party if she was okay.”
“What did he say then?”
He’d been as beautifully turned out as he was look at; cute valleys accent too. One to remember and look out for in the future. “He smiled and said that she was just a bit tipsy. If she was drunk, she’d be singing ‘I Will Survive’”
Rhys laughed out loud at that before pushing himself up off the sofa. “I like that,” he said, reaching out to Gwen, “C’mon, bedtime!”
Gwen stood up, leaning in to kiss him as she did so. “There’s no reason that we can’t sleep on the train you know.”
She didn’t have to suggest the idea twice.
Act III
