Forgot to mention this before. Britney Spears is alive in this fic for no particular reason, I just wanted him to be! Enjoy, reviews would be nice!
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4.
"Why the long face, hen?" Meat flopped down on one of the many sofas scattered around the party hall (which was, at Britney's demand, adorned with black and gold balloons.) Scaramouche was already sitting there, looking as moody as usual.
She only sighed heavily and continued to stare blankly at the table in front of them.
"Gaz no coming? Its practically his party, ah mean, he defeated GlobalSoft, didn't he?" Meat hadn't been able to find Galileo anywhere since the party had began, it wasn't like him to miss things like this. Well, not without Scaramouche anyway.
"I dunno." Scaramouche chewed her lip, "He said he was 'going out for a walk.'" She made bunny ears with her fingers to emphasise the statement.
Meat studied her friend carefully; Scaramouche seemed genuinely bummed that Gaz hadn't shown up yet. "Come on, hen." She took Scaramouche's hand and pulled her up off of the sofa, "Ah've got summat that might cheer ya up!"
Scaramouche groaned, but followed Meat through to the bedroom Brit and Meat shared.
It had seemed like a lame excuse at the time, but Galileo really was "out for a walk." He had been wandering around aimlessly for the better part of an hour trying to clear his head but, typically, he was having no luck in doing so.
He heard the crunch of a footstep behind him and whipped round, half hoping that Scaramouche had followed him out, but there was no-one in sight. He frowned, then shook his head vigorously, he was imagining things. Again. He turned back and kept on walking, kicking the odd rock out of the way as he went. Another footstep, sounded closer this time. Galileo didn't bother turning round, just kept his head down and quickened his pace, just in case the phantom footsteps were real. A twig cracked some feet away, Galileo's head instinctively snapped round to look in the direction of the noise. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his palms began to sweat – he would have felt a lot safer with Scaramouche by his side, even if he was imagining things.
A flash of silver to his right, a Yuppie? Nah, he told himself, definitely not a Yuppie. Geez, this KillerQueen-dream thing was getting out of hand, seeing Yuppies… he laughed out loud, but his laugh stopped short: another flash of silver, passing right in front of him. He felt a sharp jab in the back of his neck, the pain overwhelmed him – the burning feeling of the laser returning again before he passed out.