A/N: My first Hairspray fic!! And, because there is NOWHERE near enough of these two on this website, and because they're awesome, it's a CornyMaybelle.
Umm...probably the only Hairspray pairing I am ever going to write, so beware, you may see alot of them. Not that any of you will complain, I'm sure.
And this first one's somewhere between a drabble and a one-shot; sort-of testing the waters, as I've never done this before. Will do longer fics – when ideas for longer fics decide they like my head, and that it is a nice place to stay. Also, not very romantic, but trust me, there will be romance. Just not here.
I first wrote this using the word 'trousers', being English. However, I have just had to go back and change it to 'pants', seeing as Hairspray, and Corny, are American. :]
Soo....please let me know what you think; R&R (Read&Review – or Ronnie&Roxy, whichever you believe more firmly in!)!
:]]
Crisis
"Corny!"
Corny Collins looked round to stare at his dressing room door, at the sound of a fist pounding on it, accompanied by the appropriately nicknamed 'Motormouth' Maybelles loud voice yelling his name. He looked at himself in a brief moment of panic; costume had just delivered his suit for the show today, and he was halfway through getting changed into it – currently stood in nothing but his underwear.
"Uhh...just a second!"
He hurriedly caught up his suit pants: but even as he was doing this, he heard her voice again, beautiful, but impatient like whoa.
"I am sorry, Sir, but as 'just a second' should be fine for most people, I am not most people, I am your co-host, who will have to go on air with you in the next fifteen minutes, but is in the middle of a crisis, may I repeat, CRISIS, which you need-"
Corny hopped on one leg, desperately trying to get the other one into his pants without falling over. He wobbled dangerously as her voice rose, not showing the slightest sign of slowing; impressive, considering that everything she had said so far had been said so rapidly, it was seemed to be one sentence.
A sentence that wasn't getting any shorter.
" –to help me with, if you'd be so polite as to let me into your dressing room, but desperate times call for desperate measures, if this door does not open in the next 15 seconds, I will have no choice but to MAKE IT OPEN, BEFORE I GO COMPLETELY INSANE!!"
She was now bordering on hysterical (God knows what about), and Corny rushed to the door clumsily, tripping over his chair as he went. Pulling himself up before he even actually hit the floor, he jolted to a stop in front of it. Holding his unbuttoned shirt across his chest with one hand, and 'The Pants That Refused to Buckle' up with the other, he flung the door open, his not-yet-hairsprayed hair a little messy.
When his eyes fell on her, she didn't look angry; her eyes were wide, and not yet in her dress, in only her robe, with her hair hanging flat, she looked to be in a crazed panic.
Immediately his panicky confusion turned to one of concern – she looked like a madwoman.
"Maybelle? What's wrong? Are you alright?"
She shook her head frantically, her eyes wild. Corny took a couple of steps back, just in case.
"No, n-n-n-n-n-n-n-no, no, no no no," she muttered hurriedly, looking a bit dazed. "I ran out, I ran out.."
He was now officially scared – if not of her, then for her sanity – and made to touch her arm, his eyes worried.
"Ran out of what? Maybelle, what happened? Can I help?"
She fixed her gaze on him, hurrying forwards towards him and gripping his forearms, her expression ever-so-slightly insane. She looked down at him – as for some reason, she wasn't wearing her dress, but she was wearing those damn shoes, the ones that made her look taller than him – and whispered slowly, her whole face quivering as if the very world was coming to an end.
"I need to borrow your hairspray."
END