Disclaimer: Gorillaz belongs to the great Jamie Hewlett - Angela Johnson is property Tcho-san
Authors Notes: A story idea I came up with for Tcho-san's 'DARE' contest. Remembered a single fact about Murdoc, then heard the song 'White Liar', and just couldn't help myself.
She had gotten home earlier than she'd first expected. Angel had left the studio earlier that day to buy some supplies, only to find out she had been a few dollars short of what she needed. So, she'd headed back 'home' several hours earlier than expected to retrieve the needed money. Remembering how waking Murdoc up tended to go, Angel decided to avoid the carpark; the bassist had been asleep when she'd left, he was likely to still be sleeping now. Besides, the lobby doors were strangely underused.
After entering the lift that made it's home in the lobby, she found herself on the second floor. Her 'room' was on this floor, along with the money she'd need to buy the rest of the supplies. Before she could think to go there, however, a strange smell assailed her nose. It was strange not because it was gross, but because it was... common. Uncommon for KONG, though. She could smell some kind of pastries baking. Pastries were not at all common in KONG studios - especially when Russel and Noodle were out. 2D, despite trying avidly, couldn't cook anything -other than bacon and eggs- worth beans, and Murdoc had admitted openly that he couldn't cook a thing.
So, curiosity peaked and money needs forgotten, she followed the smell down the hall.
Hey, white liar,
The truth comes out a little at a time,
And it spreads just like a fire,
Slips off your tongue like turpentine,
And I don't know why,
White Liar.
As she'd expected, the smell brought her to the beaten, dirty and chaotically organized kitchen. She could hear a distinctly male person humming to himself, likely while doing whatever it was that was leading to the unusual pastry smell leaking all over KONG's second floor. Quietly, Angel inched towards the now pleasant-smelling room. As she neared it, the grumbly humming of whomever was inside got louder. Recognizably louder. She knew that gravelly voice! Her hands gripped the edge of the frame, and Angel peeked in.
She almost fell to the floor when she caught sight of the person inside. Murdoc Niccals.
"What...?" She muttered to herself, grinning. No way. There was no way that Murdoc was the one making pastries. He obviously did not know she was there; he had his back turned away from the hall and was subsequently blocking off whatever was in front of him. She adjusted her stance, and caught sight of a substance familiar to her - dough. A pile of dough sitting on a floury cutting board, hand-shaped globs missing here and there. A glance over at the stove only further proved it was him - the thing was currently occupied in baking a tray covered in what she recognized as scones. It was worse though. The things were shaped like swans. Angel bit back a laugh. Murdoc Niccals was making swan-shaped scones.
Murdoc moved away from the thing he was currently occupied with -another swan-shaped scone-, and Angel took the opportunity; she pulled out a camera and commanded it to record.
You better be careful what you do,
I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes,
If they ever found you out,
You better be careful what you say,
It never really added up anyway,
I got friends in this town.
A daredevil air had fallen around Angel; she felt like she was challenging something that could normally beat her easily. Except, this time, she had the upper hand. She moved carefully, hiding when he turned to face where she stood, and making sure she made no noise. Murdoc had done several things that almost seemed to be done solely to challenge how straight-faced she could be; sometimes he would sing, other times he would dance. Both were done badly, and both made her want to laugh.
Angel had begun to wonder why exactly the man was making three batches of swan-shaped scones -six were fitted on the tray each time- when she realized the camera was running low on power. She moved to turn it off - and it beeped twice before dying. Angel almost kicked herself. Not only did she not have the footage; Murdoc had discovered he was being watched, and had turned around with a mixed look of terror and anger on his face. She didn't move, and Murdocs gaze switched quickly from her to the dead camera she held in her hands.
"You saw..." He turned to look at the multitude of swan-scones now decorating the kitchen before turning back to her. "You..." His face turned serious. "Gimme 'at." He began marching forward, and Angel grinned in her mind. Murdoc did not know that the camera was dead. He thought she had footage of him saved onto the thing. Her grin slipped onto her face. She could have fun with this. She took a step back, and Murdoc paused, looking fearful for a moment. "Don' you dare, Ange'." He said.
She ran.
Hey, white liar,
The truth comes out a little at a time,
And it spreads just like a fire,
Slips off your tongue like turpentine,
And I don't know why,
White Liar.
Angel found herself laughing loudly as she ran through the studio, the dead, evidence-free camera held tightly in her hands. This was fun. She'd never had anything Murdoc wanted so badly as to chase her across the studio.
"Ange', you give 'at here! Stop runnin', you little...!"
"You want it, catch me!" He growled at her response, and she jumped into the lift, watching with amusement as the doors closed before he could get in. She hit the Carpark before him, and the first thing she did was grab the older mans Laptop. What better way to hold him off that threatening to upload the nonexistent data?
Her next stop was 2D's room, and the man had screamed in surprise at her sudden and rather loud entrance.
"Wos goin' on?" He muttered fearfully. Angel ignored him, locking the door before turning, connecting Murdocs oddly out-of-date laptop to the singers even older modem, jacking the camera in and setting the computer up to look away from the door. "Wot you doin', Ange'?" 2D asked, looking from her up to the door, which was now being pounded on.
You said you went out to a bar,
And walked some lady to her car,
But your face has more to tell,
Cause my cousin saw you on the street,
With a red head named Bernice,
Turns out you don't lie too well.
"I thought you couldn't cook, Murdoc?" She yelled out. The pounding stopped for a moment.
"Don' you dare, Ange'." The satanist warned. 2D glanced back and forth between Angel and the door.
"Wot you talkin' about? And wot do y'want wiv my modem?" He asked. Murdoc growled, and he pounded the door harshly before speaking again.
"Oh, don' you bloody dare, Ange'!" Angel giggled, grinning widely. She took the mouse in her hand, deliberately clicking it multiple times, but not actually telling the computer to do anything. Murdoc pounded the door again.
"Tha's it, Ange'. I'm coming in whether you like it or not!" And the door was kicked in, 2D yelping as it bounced off the wall, now dangling loosely off one hinge.
Hey, white liar,
The truth comes out a little at a time,
And it spreads just like a fire,
Slips off your tongue like turpentine,
And I don't know why,
White Liar.
Murdoc didn't move once the door was 'opened'. He stood still, breathing deeply as he stared at Angel from the door frame. The pair stared each other down before the satanist marched forward - and Angel gripped the wireless mouse she'd been using.
"Click...!" She said, waving the mouse around. The screen was facing her and 2D, hiding from Murdoc the fact that the only thing on it was an open, empty word document. Murdoc stopped. Still holding mouse in the air, she turned to the computer, typing out four words. Thankfully, 2D still had no idea what was going on, and only continued to glance back and forth between the two sudden intruders in his room.
"Gimme tha' camera, Ange'." Angel laughed again, disconnecting the dead camera from the computer and tossing it up and down in her hand.
"If you say so." And the camera was lobbed through the air, quickly caught by the now suspicious bassist.
Here's a bombshell just for you,
Turns out I've been lying, too.
Angel gripped the top of the laptop's screen, still grinning. She'd done nothing, recorded nothing, threatened to upload nothing to the internet. Murdoc's eyes narrowed.
"Gimme my laptop, too." Her grin softened, and she slowly moved back to the computer, typing some more. "Ange'..." Murdoc warned, holding out a hand.
"Alright." She said, but didn't move. Gripping the top of the computer once more, she carefully turned it around to face the bassist, and laughed when his expression turned to relieved irritation.
On the computer screen read:
'The camera is dead.
I couldn't record a thing.'
Murdoc growled, but Angel could see a hint of an amused smirk on his face. He walked forward, snatching up his laptop. Before he moved away, though, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"Next time I'll give ya one if ya be good." She laughed out loud, and Murdoc grinned as he headed back up to the kitchen.
Still lost, 2D looked back and forth between the pair.
"Wot did I miss?"
Now I'm the white liar,
The truth comes out a little at a time,
And it spreads just like a fire,
Slips off of my tongue like turpentine,
And I don't know why,
White Liar.