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monaboyd Dec. 19th, 2005 08:08 pm)
light-the-sky76.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Dec. 19th, 2005 08:08 pm)Title: Three Ghosts 1/5
Author: light_the_sky76
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R for language
A/N: I was talking to the receptionist at work one day and she was saying how she didn't like Christmas, I replied that she'd better be careful or she would be visited by three ghosts. Then as I walked back up the stairs to my office I thought 'hmmmmmmmm'
Summary: Bah humbug.
Disclaimer: Nonsense, fiction, crackfic. I have shamelessly nicked the idea for this story from Charles Dickens, but hopefully he wouldn't mind, I think he had a good sense of humour. Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
indigo_blind. Thank you :)
It doesn’t matter how the fight started. Billy couldn't remember anyway. The important thing was that it descended to a place where words like "Selfish bastard," and "Miserable shite," were being exchanged. Which lead to words like "I don't care what you do" and "Go to hell" being thrown around. Which then lead to "Fuck you!" and Dom walking away from Billy, his back stiff with anger, and slamming the door behind him.
"All is calm, all is bright," Billy mumbled bitterly and he stalked around the living room of their rented house looking for something to kick. Unfortunately nothing presented itself as a viable candidate. The furniture was hired and damaging it would just lose them their deposit, the presents under the tree didn't look heavy enough to provide the satisfying thud he was hoping for as his foot connected, the Christmas tree was no good at all – just lots of prickly needles and tinsel, and the wall was out of the question, Billy was looking to vent frustration not break bones.
Alcohol. In the absence of an act of gratuitous violence against an inanimate object, a large shot of whiskey was the only reasonable choice.
The first shot burned all the way down. The second shot was dulled by the lingering effects of the first and by the third Billy really didn't care. He held up his glass and toasted the empty room with shot number four "We'll raise a cup of kind my friends," drank, swallowed, shuddered, and abandoned the empty glass on the table.
Swaying ever so slightly, Billy planned his next move. More whiskey would be bad and going out was out of the question - he didn't want company and he couldn't bear the thought of the cheerful morons in the street yelling "Happy Christmas" at him.
So what that it was Christmas Eve? Billy didn’t care. It was all crap. There certainly wasn't any peace and goodwill between him and Dom. He was too old for presents and fairy lights and stockings. It was all a load of commercial nonsense anyway, he only agreed to the decorations because Dom insisted. And he wasn't here.
Billy decided to go to bed. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he'd wake up on New Years Day and the whole bloody festive season would be over and done with.
Leaving the tree and the decorations behind Billy pulled off his jeans, pulled on his pyjamas and climbed into bed; dragging the duvet up to engulf him in darkness. His head was full of angry sharp words leaving no room at all for dancing sugarplums.
~~~~~~
Bong
When the hell was that?
Bong
When had the clock in the hall become so loud?
Bong
Billy buried his head beneath his pillow.
Bong
It didn't help.
Bong
Fuck!
Bong
Maybe if he hit the clock with a hammer it would stop.
Bong
Billy didn't have a hammer; but he did have a heavy pair of shoes
Bong
But that would mean getting out of bed.
Bong
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Bong
It had to stop soon.
Bong
Didn't it?
Bong
The final chime sounded and Billy sighed with relief. His relief lasted approximately three seconds.
Blinding white light filled the room penetrating the thick duvet.
"What the fuck?" Billy yelled to no one in particular.
"Sorry Billy," A familiar voice said, "that is probably too bright."
The light dimmed and Billy threw the covers aside to find himself staring at a figure stood in the middle of the bedroom dressed all in white and barefoot.
"Viggo?"
"Hello Billy," he grinned his maniacal grin. "I am the ghost of Christmas Past."
Author: light_the_sky76
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R for language
A/N: I was talking to the receptionist at work one day and she was saying how she didn't like Christmas, I replied that she'd better be careful or she would be visited by three ghosts. Then as I walked back up the stairs to my office I thought 'hmmmmmmmm'
Summary: Bah humbug.
Disclaimer: Nonsense, fiction, crackfic. I have shamelessly nicked the idea for this story from Charles Dickens, but hopefully he wouldn't mind, I think he had a good sense of humour. Betaed by
indigo_blind. Thank you :)It doesn’t matter how the fight started. Billy couldn't remember anyway. The important thing was that it descended to a place where words like "Selfish bastard," and "Miserable shite," were being exchanged. Which lead to words like "I don't care what you do" and "Go to hell" being thrown around. Which then lead to "Fuck you!" and Dom walking away from Billy, his back stiff with anger, and slamming the door behind him.
"All is calm, all is bright," Billy mumbled bitterly and he stalked around the living room of their rented house looking for something to kick. Unfortunately nothing presented itself as a viable candidate. The furniture was hired and damaging it would just lose them their deposit, the presents under the tree didn't look heavy enough to provide the satisfying thud he was hoping for as his foot connected, the Christmas tree was no good at all – just lots of prickly needles and tinsel, and the wall was out of the question, Billy was looking to vent frustration not break bones.
Alcohol. In the absence of an act of gratuitous violence against an inanimate object, a large shot of whiskey was the only reasonable choice.
The first shot burned all the way down. The second shot was dulled by the lingering effects of the first and by the third Billy really didn't care. He held up his glass and toasted the empty room with shot number four "We'll raise a cup of kind my friends," drank, swallowed, shuddered, and abandoned the empty glass on the table.
Swaying ever so slightly, Billy planned his next move. More whiskey would be bad and going out was out of the question - he didn't want company and he couldn't bear the thought of the cheerful morons in the street yelling "Happy Christmas" at him.
So what that it was Christmas Eve? Billy didn’t care. It was all crap. There certainly wasn't any peace and goodwill between him and Dom. He was too old for presents and fairy lights and stockings. It was all a load of commercial nonsense anyway, he only agreed to the decorations because Dom insisted. And he wasn't here.
Billy decided to go to bed. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he'd wake up on New Years Day and the whole bloody festive season would be over and done with.
Leaving the tree and the decorations behind Billy pulled off his jeans, pulled on his pyjamas and climbed into bed; dragging the duvet up to engulf him in darkness. His head was full of angry sharp words leaving no room at all for dancing sugarplums.
~~~~~~
Bong
When the hell was that?
Bong
When had the clock in the hall become so loud?
Bong
Billy buried his head beneath his pillow.
Bong
It didn't help.
Bong
Fuck!
Bong
Maybe if he hit the clock with a hammer it would stop.
Bong
Billy didn't have a hammer; but he did have a heavy pair of shoes
Bong
But that would mean getting out of bed.
Bong
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Bong
It had to stop soon.
Bong
Didn't it?
Bong
The final chime sounded and Billy sighed with relief. His relief lasted approximately three seconds.
Blinding white light filled the room penetrating the thick duvet.
"What the fuck?" Billy yelled to no one in particular.
"Sorry Billy," A familiar voice said, "that is probably too bright."
The light dimmed and Billy threw the covers aside to find himself staring at a figure stood in the middle of the bedroom dressed all in white and barefoot.
"Viggo?"
"Hello Billy," he grinned his maniacal grin. "I am the ghost of Christmas Past."
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Catherine
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*rubs hands together*
I love cranky Billy so much.
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P.s. Viggo as the ghost of Christmas Past? Perfect!
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Thanks
I love your icon :)
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Thank you!
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Thanks
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This is going to be a classic, I can tell. :D Blimey :P
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just kidding...but there had been a time when I was musing over using the Christmas Carol for a Monaboyd/Nesseh&Weasel, but you actually got to work on it and beat me to it. Now what shall I do?
I know! Read yours and enjoy it immensely!
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Looking forward to seeing what else you've got cooked up!
Thanks for sharing.
~Erin
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His head was full of angry sharp words leaving no room at all for dancing sugarplums.
very nice. looking forward to part II.
kerry =)
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viggo? he grinned his maniacal grin. i can picture the ghost of christmas past viggo so well it's frighteningly perfect.
*bounces and awaits more*
this is going to be like unwraping a christmas gift a day. which is good considering that i doubt i am getting anything for christmas this year besides a wee bi of money from my brother. bah! humbug! only not.
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I hope so *feels pressured* :)
Thanks
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Have you been good? Maybe Father Christmas will bring you something.
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father christmas has blessed me with a lot of friends that even if they can't give me gifts they make me feel loved, which is good.
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That is a gift.
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Only Viggo would do as the Ghost of Christmas Past.