Send in the clowns
Author: Lady Lisassa
Summary: Someone arranges a dinner for Voyager's senior staff. Set after Endgame. The song, "Send in the clowns", is written by Stephen Sondheim.
Author's note: I haven't seen Endgame yet.
I wish I knew what's going on in there. Céline told me that arranging this dinner was a stupid idea, that putting them all together in one room was like placing a ticking bomb there. I realize that myself now.
Oh god. The singer just came running out of the Room. "I'm sorry; I just can't stand being in there anymore." "What's happened?" "Nothing yet, but it's the beginning of the end." I walk into the room. It's quiet. No one says a word. They're just sitting there, staring out at nothing. I can hear them breathe (thank god they're breathing). I get a funny feeling this is really the End. It scares me. I can sense what they're thinking.
- God, get me out of here. - What's going on? - I guess this was inevitable. - I guess I wasn't such a good morale officer, after all. - This had to happen. - Love. A highly deceitful emotion. - Did I say something wrong? - Did she really have to say that? Is she really that blind? - I'm sorry. I failed. My crew is unhappy because of me. Don't blame yourselves, please. I'm sorry.
The atmosphere in here is getting more and more oppressed. The woman with the red hair is crying. It's a terrible sight. I clutch my fingers to a chair to prevent myself from running up to her and wiping the tears away. Still she's quiet. They all are. I wonder what caused this scene. I know it was something someone said. I think it was the blonde who said it. But what? What could be so devastating to say? A dark, until just a few moments ago, well-kept secret? An awful truth? The singer, Nadine, is standing in the door, her eyes telling me that what caused the bomb to detonate was just an innocent question from a woman unaware of its presence. It must have been hell for Nadine, who is highly sensitive to people's feelings, to be here. I can't blame her for running out.
- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
I can hear the crying woman's thoughts again, so filled with despair. Some of the others are starting to turn in their chairs. They stand up and walk out without even saying goodbye. Now there are only three of them left. The blonde, the man with the tattoo and, finally, the woman with the red hair. Suddenly, the latter lets out a loud sob. The man touches her cheek, and all of a sudden the blonde realizes something. She stands up abruptly, causing her chair to fall over. The next thing I know, she's left. And then there were only two. They look at each other one last time, and then the man goes to look for his fiancée, the blonde. The woman, who's now left alone, looks up through the tears and notices me. She smiles sadly at me. Nadine's back in the room now. She always tries to choose songs that the listeners feel they can connect to. She's always very good at it. She starts to sing, her voice insecure, sad and tired.
Isn't it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground You in mid-air Send in the clowns
Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve? One who keeps tearing around One who can't move Where are the clowns? Send in the clowns
Just when I'd stopped Opening doors Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours Making my entrance again with my usual flair Sure of my lines No one is there
The woman is hiding her face in her hands. Still crying.
Don't you love farce?
My fault I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want Sorry my dear But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns Quick send in the clowns
The man has come back together with the blonde. The red-haired woman wipes the tears away and looks at the man.
What a surprise
Who could foresee? I'd come to feel about you what you felt about me Why only now when I see that you've drifted away What a surprise What a cliché
Barbra shows up and wants to take a photo of the three. She tells them to sit in the white sofa by the window.
Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer? Losing my timing this late in my career And where are the clowns?
No one smiles. Barbra's picture will be perfect when explaining what actually happened in here. When trying to recreate this moment. Telling people bout the feelings that were suddenly revealed by one innocent question: - Do you want to be maid of honor on Chakotay's and my wedding? Nadine is completely exhausted. She looks like she's about to collapse at any moment now. But she'd never do that in the middle of a song. She gathers the last of her strength to sing the final lines of the song, and Barbra takes her picture of Sadness.
Quick send in the clowns Don't bother, they're here
The man, the blonde and the red-haired woman look at the picture where no one smiles, and then, with a faint moan from the woman with the red hair, they realize that Nadine is right. The clowns are here. They are the clowns.
Author: Lady Lisassa
Summary: Someone arranges a dinner for Voyager's senior staff. Set after Endgame. The song, "Send in the clowns", is written by Stephen Sondheim.
Author's note: I haven't seen Endgame yet.
I wish I knew what's going on in there. Céline told me that arranging this dinner was a stupid idea, that putting them all together in one room was like placing a ticking bomb there. I realize that myself now.
Oh god. The singer just came running out of the Room. "I'm sorry; I just can't stand being in there anymore." "What's happened?" "Nothing yet, but it's the beginning of the end." I walk into the room. It's quiet. No one says a word. They're just sitting there, staring out at nothing. I can hear them breathe (thank god they're breathing). I get a funny feeling this is really the End. It scares me. I can sense what they're thinking.
- God, get me out of here. - What's going on? - I guess this was inevitable. - I guess I wasn't such a good morale officer, after all. - This had to happen. - Love. A highly deceitful emotion. - Did I say something wrong? - Did she really have to say that? Is she really that blind? - I'm sorry. I failed. My crew is unhappy because of me. Don't blame yourselves, please. I'm sorry.
The atmosphere in here is getting more and more oppressed. The woman with the red hair is crying. It's a terrible sight. I clutch my fingers to a chair to prevent myself from running up to her and wiping the tears away. Still she's quiet. They all are. I wonder what caused this scene. I know it was something someone said. I think it was the blonde who said it. But what? What could be so devastating to say? A dark, until just a few moments ago, well-kept secret? An awful truth? The singer, Nadine, is standing in the door, her eyes telling me that what caused the bomb to detonate was just an innocent question from a woman unaware of its presence. It must have been hell for Nadine, who is highly sensitive to people's feelings, to be here. I can't blame her for running out.
- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
I can hear the crying woman's thoughts again, so filled with despair. Some of the others are starting to turn in their chairs. They stand up and walk out without even saying goodbye. Now there are only three of them left. The blonde, the man with the tattoo and, finally, the woman with the red hair. Suddenly, the latter lets out a loud sob. The man touches her cheek, and all of a sudden the blonde realizes something. She stands up abruptly, causing her chair to fall over. The next thing I know, she's left. And then there were only two. They look at each other one last time, and then the man goes to look for his fiancée, the blonde. The woman, who's now left alone, looks up through the tears and notices me. She smiles sadly at me. Nadine's back in the room now. She always tries to choose songs that the listeners feel they can connect to. She's always very good at it. She starts to sing, her voice insecure, sad and tired.
Isn't it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground You in mid-air Send in the clowns
Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve? One who keeps tearing around One who can't move Where are the clowns? Send in the clowns
Just when I'd stopped Opening doors Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours Making my entrance again with my usual flair Sure of my lines No one is there
The woman is hiding her face in her hands. Still crying.
Don't you love farce?
My fault I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want Sorry my dear But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns Quick send in the clowns
The man has come back together with the blonde. The red-haired woman wipes the tears away and looks at the man.
What a surprise
Who could foresee? I'd come to feel about you what you felt about me Why only now when I see that you've drifted away What a surprise What a cliché
Barbra shows up and wants to take a photo of the three. She tells them to sit in the white sofa by the window.
Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer? Losing my timing this late in my career And where are the clowns?
No one smiles. Barbra's picture will be perfect when explaining what actually happened in here. When trying to recreate this moment. Telling people bout the feelings that were suddenly revealed by one innocent question: - Do you want to be maid of honor on Chakotay's and my wedding? Nadine is completely exhausted. She looks like she's about to collapse at any moment now. But she'd never do that in the middle of a song. She gathers the last of her strength to sing the final lines of the song, and Barbra takes her picture of Sadness.
Quick send in the clowns Don't bother, they're here
The man, the blonde and the red-haired woman look at the picture where no one smiles, and then, with a faint moan from the woman with the red hair, they realize that Nadine is right. The clowns are here. They are the clowns.