Author's Note: I don't even know where this came from but somehow I'm very proud of it.

Disclaimer: Only the stupid plot is mine.

Ray Garraty was pretty sure that this wasn't the bus he was supposed to be standing in front of.

He wasn't sure which of his parents had decided that 'sightseeing would be good for him,' but whichever one it had been, he would've appreciated some warning. He'd been woken up at 3 AM and driven to an airport, only to be met with an extremely long weight and an even longer flight to France and then a confusing time difference. And the food at the airport had been horrible.

Yeah, this wasn't going well so far. Garraty didn't complain a lot, but this was something worth complaining about.
He considered asking the bus number, but the driver was a tall man in mirrored sunglasses, and he didn't look too friendly. Through the door, Garraty thought he could see him smoking a cigarette, which Garraty was pretty certain was illegal. That made him look even more unapproachable.

"Hey." Garraty felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and he jumped. "Whoa, calm down." He turned around to see a tall, lanky, smirking boy with a thin scar on one cheek.

"Uh, sorry. You sort of freaked me out."

"I can see that. Pete McVries, and who might you be?"

"Uh, I'm Ray Garraty." The expression on McVries' face was making Garraty slightly uncomfortable. He wondered if he was drunk or something.

"Well, Ray Garraty, what inspired you to be standing out in the freezing cold waiting for a bus to see some nice scenery in a country that you probably only associate with the Eiffel Tower?"

"You're..."

McVries smiled at him. "What am I?"

"Nevermind. My parents thought it would be good for me, or some bullshit like that."

The driver appeared to notice them, but then simply leaned back in his chair and took a deep puff of his cigarette. "What a rude man," McVries remarked.

Garraty noted that he still hadn't removed his arm from around his shoulders. McVries appeared to notice him looking down at his arm and blushing, and drew him closer. "What, aren't you cold too? I'm doing you a favor."

After a few more minutes of standing there awkwardly, the driver finally let them in, grunting as they passed him. Garraty was about to take a seat somewhere preferably far away from McVries, but McVries pulled him into a seat beside him. "Ah, this is much better. Warmer."

"Yeah," Garraty agreed. McVries had let go of him for a moment, but then surprised him by wrapping his arm around his shoulders again. Garraty suddenly felt the need to blurt out, "I have a girlfriend."

"Who said I was flirting?"

Garraty sighed and looked around. A few other boys had come into the bus. A redhead in the aisle next to them was playing something loud and angry on his iPhone, and a few people had assembled in the front of the bus.

There was a loud banging sound on the doors and Garraty looked up. There was one last loud bang, and an angry-looking blond boy entered. "What the fuck was that! Keep the goddamn doors open!" He was almost snarling, and Garraty found himself shrinking back into his seat.

The bus driver just looked at him, then went back to staring off into space. "Say something, you goddamn motherfucker!"

"Language," McVries said.

"Shut the fuck up."

McVries rolled his eyes and said to Garraty. "Really, Ray, some people are so touchy."

"I'm Collie fucking Parker and I'm not touchy." He made a huffing sound and then sat down next to the redhead in the pair of seats next to Garraty and McVries. Parker looked him up and down for a few minutes, and then said out of nowhere, "Holy shit."

The redhead took out his headphones and looked at Parker. "Holy fuck. Parker? I didn't know you signed up for this thing."

"Neither did I," Parker said gruffly.

The redhead laughed. "I, personally, enjoy seeing the majestic sights of Northern France."

"Huh. Fitting, Abe." Garraty guessed that that was the redhead's name.

"Did you know that Abraham Lincoln hated being called Abe?" Abraham, after all, that was probably his full name, playfully shoved Parker.

"I know you don't, though."

McVries chimed in, "Just a note, you two are acting like a married couple."

Both of them glared at him. "Who fuckin' asked you?" Parker's Midwestern accent made everything sound somewhat more menacing.

Over a period of about fifteen minutes, a multitude of boys had gotten onto the bus. Why there was only boys was beyond the passengers. Maybe this was a gender-exclusive trip. That would have been pretty stupid, though.

The driver finally spoke into the microphone. "It appears that you're all here." His voice was husky and irritated.

Just as he was about to say the next thing, there was a "Wait!" and a loud crash. Garraty leaned over McVries to see a small, olive-skinned boy try to run in and end up careening over the stairs. "Art!" he practically wailed.

"Barkovitch, you can get up by yourself. You're not a toddler," said a boy who had come up behind the boy sprawled out on the floor. He was groping around for something, and then Garraty noticed sunglasses on the ground in front of him. Holy shit, they were right in front of his face.

"Can you get my glasses?"

The other boy, presumably Art, sighed and grabbed the glasses, putting them on Barkovitch's face. Barkovitch got up and brushed himself off. "I fucking hate stairs. I hope they're outlawed someday and replaced by nice ramps. Yeah, I'd fucking love it if everything was just ramps!"

The whole bus had been staring at the two for about the last five minutes. Barkovitch grumbled something about goddamn stairs and started making his way to the back of the bus, followed by the exasperated-looking blond who was apparently Art.
"Now, are you all here?" The driver said, paying no attention to Art and Barkovitch.

"I'll fucking sue you for those fucking stairs," Barkovitch whined loudly. Art shushed him, and Garraty was suddenly very unhappy that the pair had decided to sit behind him and McVries. He leaned back and looked at Barkovitch, who was glaring at the back of the seat from behind his sunglasses.

"I'm, um, sorry about him. I'm Art Baker, and this is Gary Barkovitch." He smiled uncomfortably, trying to make up for their embarrassing entrance. "He's, um, visually impaired."

"I'm fucking blind, Art. There's a difference."

"Alright, fine. This is Gary Barkovitch and he's fucking blind. So, yeah, uh, I'm sorry..."

"It's fine," Garraty said, trying to make it less awkward. "If he's blind, I mean..."

"Stop fucking talking about me like I'm not here."

He may have been blind, but he was also a huge asshole. Parker and Abraham, who'd been in deep conversation for the past couple of minutes, looked back at Barkovitch. "I fucking hate you already," Parker remarked.

Baker sighed loudly and folded his arms. "Gary, you haven't exactly made a great impression..."

"You know, sometimes I think you're my mother in disguise."

"Yeah, Barkovitch, I'm your mother in disguise. Your mother is a seventeen-year-old boy from Louisiana."

"Good to know."

McVries pulled Garraty back. "Charming people, aren't they?"

Garraty rolled his eyes. "Sure are. You have to be nice to blind people, though, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's fucking right!" yelled Barkovitch from the seat behind.

Garraty sighed and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long trip.

I love writing blind!Barkovitch so much. On a side note, you know how Aurora did that thing in the LOTF 1990 parody where she had the characters answer questions from the reviewers at the end? Well, I think I'll do that. So, yeah, um, do the thing.