Conversations on Flight – Chapter X
r/dankmemes - .it - Old Skool
time to dust this off i guess
u/mrCrunchyMeataball
US Army:
Emir of Qatar: aLL YouR bASe aRe BELong to uS
233 Comments Share
Write a comment
ShinkshankAla8 - 2h
Come sit on my knee son, and I shall tell you of the meme that took fifteen
years to finally become relevant.
mammagumpshrimp - 2h
Next thing you know Qatar will claim the base was stolen too.
DefinitelyNotABot - 2h
Don't cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.
mrCrunchyMeataball - 1h
you don't know me
thegoodestofpickles - 2h
I would laugh if I wasn't so terrified
ashai1121 - 2h
excuse me while I stockpile an entire lake full of gasoline
muskstick - 30m
buy a tesla
gabblerouser - 1h
Everything from the early 00s is cool again! First emo
music, now war in the middle east!
bumbletaor - 1h
nothing left but laughter bruh
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
The rain bisected the tinted window of the car in a thin windswept channel as Will leaned back into the black leather seat and gazed out to the grey world outside.
A few tourists walking along The Mall, covered in flimsy overpriced ponchos, rippling in the wind.
The occasional still figure of an officer in military raincoat, hands firm around their automatic rifle, as they held their new post along the road with confidence, taking no heed of the unusual downpour.
And a small dotting of press along the black iron fence, rushing behind their plastic wrapped cameras as they swung around to capture Will's small convoy in their sights.
The bright flash of a sole photographer being held respectfully back unexpectedly caught Will in his retina as they drove through the black iron gates of the palace, causing him to blink down hard and ease the sharp streaks of light floating in his sight when he felt the car begin to slow down to a stop.
Will opened his eyes again with a sigh and looked out through the wet swipes of the windscreen wipers when he spied three large cars parked in front of them, being guarded under the limestone awning by two very serious men in very serious black suits. Will's brow lowered in confusion, when a shadow whipped across him and the car door flung open.
"Mr Prime Minister, Sir."
He peered up to see a dark umbrella being held above him by a keen royal footman, saving Will from the worst of the deluge while sacrificing himself to it. Will quickly jumped out of the seat to save the footman a soaking and hurried with him in a few short steps to reach the protection of the grand entranceway of the palace and gave the footman a small smile of thanks, when he found his gaze wandering unbidden to the sleek silver and black logo on the back of the one of the large cars blocking the entrance.
Chevrolet.
Not the usual ubiquitous Land Rover.
Will frowned.
There was only one thing that could mean.
"Please excuse the inconvenience, sir." Will broke his thought and looked up to footman apologising sincerely as he closed his umbrella.
"Not at all, thanks for the brolly." Will smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked over to one of the guards in black, who didn't even acknowledge his presence.
"This way please sir." The friendly footman opened the grand oak door for him and shepherded Will into one of the large marble floored foyers of Buckingham Palace.
"Seems like you're having quite the busy morning." Will peered back to the silent guards watching the rain as the large door slowly shut on the scene outside.
"Ah yes… sir." The footman suddenly sounded a little unsure, causing Will to follow the man's gaze. "We are indeed."
Above them, descending the wide staircase into the open foyer, came a well dressed posse of people being escorted down by the short butler, his height being comically exaggerated by the tall lean figure beside him, who commanded the group with ease.
"Mr Cartwright." Will greeted the US Ambassador with a tired smile.
"Mr Prime Minister!" Michael Cartwright gave a wide gleaming grin as he bounded casually down the last few steps. "What a pleasure to run into you." He thrust out his open palm to Will and shook his hand with one single firm shake. "What brings you to the Palace sir?"
"Weekly meeting with Her Majesty."
"Of course, of course…" Michael smiled softly as his entourage caught up with him in the foyer and stood behind him in huddled guard. He never did seem to travel without at least six disciples. Will always wondered if this was a strategic order, or an organic consequence of his boyish charm.
"And you?"
The Ambassador's jovial face rearranged itself to something more solemn. "Well, with all the recent developments, The President asked me to pass along her support to the Queen personally."
"How thoughtful." Will resisted the urge to narrow his eyes in suspicion.
Michael stepped in a little closer to him and lowered his voice slightly. "You had a call from the President?"
"Just this morning."
Michael nodded in thought then let out a calculated sigh. "Bit of a standoff we got going on."
"So it seems."
The American pursed his lips in sombre contemplation. "Once again our nations are back in the trenches together…"
"Well let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"Of course!" He blew of quickly, then looked Will in the eyes, expectedly. "But it's lucky we've always got each other's back, right?"
"Indeed it is." Will parried. "And lucky the President is not one for rash decisions."
"Of course not." Michael agreed emphatically, when his eyes wandered away in thought. "The Emir on the other hand…" Will began to feel a little unsettled at the new direction of discussion, when suddenly the Ambassador's gaze snapped back him. "But I've held you up for too long. Don't want to keep Her Majesty waiting. And no doubt we'll talk more about this very soon." He whipped out his hand to Will in a sudden end to their conversation.
Will could only take his hand with a smile. "Of course."
Something seemed to click behind Michael's eyes, but Will didn't the time to humour him because just behind the huddle of Americans he spied a small bundle of brown hair plodding up the stairs step by step, while a poor royal assistant waited on the middle landing for the unenthused fur ball to catch up. Will stifled a smile, and looked back to the waiting American.
"But it was lovely to bump into you Michael, as always."
"You too, Will." The tall Ambassador clapped a wide hand against his shoulder in what Will supposed was a meant as a fraternal gesture. "Talk soon." He said in low voice with a nod, then just as quickly as he appeared, he swept away with the butler in tow, his stream of assistants following after, parting around Will with respectful smiles.
Will found himself alone on the floor.
Up on the grand stairwell, he saw that his footman had joined the assistant in the futile attempt of coaxing Dash up the steps, the additional labour now seemingly resolving the dog to not move at all.
Will snuck a look back at the open door as the pack of Americans charged out to their waiting convoy, then gave a small sigh and began forwards.
"Don't worry, I'll take him." The suffering assistants looked to him as Will strode up the stairs then crouched down next to the obstinate fur ball and carefully presented his curled fingers in armistice. "Hello there Dash." He murmured softly as the little dog looked warily at the sudden appearance of his hand, but then with a quick sniff, a look up at his face and then another tentative snuff, his little wet nose moved in to touch the tips of Will's knuckles, then he bent his head under his open palm, finally permitting a pat.
The corner of Will's lips couldn't help but tweak upwards in a secret smile as he scratched behind Dash's floppy ear. But he had a job to do.
"Right." Will declared with a huff as he snaked his hands around the pup's silky form and lifted him off the step and into his arms. "Up we go." He hugged the dog close as he gave a nod to the thankful assistants then made his way up the stairs by himself. "Let's go see your mummy, ay?" He murmured to Dash, looking down at his furry face, when his wet nose shot up to Will's mouth, causing his face to jerk away in avoidance and a low chuckle to reverberate through his chest.
He supposed he could see why Victoria was so attached to the pup. A bright, oblivious spark in an ever-darkening world.
Will reached the landing and walked to the well-known door of the royal study, the entrance unusually unguarded since the butler was seeing off the Ambassador.
"Down you pop." He muttered to Dash as he crouched down to the floor with weary legs, the dog immediately jumping out of his arms and sniffing through the crack of the door, keen to reunite with his owner. Will stood up slowly then gave a few quick rhythmic taps on the door.
"Yes?" The muffled voice of the queen permeated the solid oak.
Will didn't wait for permission to enter as he pushed open the door and let Dash scamper in excitedly.
"Dash! Come here boy!" The dog needed no more inducement to rush forward to Victoria, who called him anyway from the couch as soon as he appeared, quickly hiding a pencil between the pages of a large leather-bound book and setting it aside to free her hands for her beloved pet.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." Will bowed from the doorway.
"Mr M." Victoria looked up at him with a wide, though strangely self-conscious smile, and swiftly looked back down at Dash who was relishing in her attention. "Come in, good morning. He didn't cause you too much trouble, did he?"
"None at all, ma'am." He strode across the room.
"Good." She said still looking down, when after a moment she lowered her pet to the floor then stood up straight with intended posture, raised her hand and looked Will in the eye. "Thank you Mr M."
"Any time, ma'am." Will took her hand softly into his, and gave a short bow from the neck. He found his mind wandering to the origins of the protocol, when subjects would kiss the hand of their regent.
What would be her reaction if he did that?
Would she pull her hand away? Would she recoil and plunge their interaction into cold awkwardness?
Would she blush?
"You just missed the US Ambassador." Victoria's voice smacked him out of his reverie as he realised he was still holding her hand lightly across his fingers. He quickly dropped his hand and closed them together tight behind his back as he took one step away.
"Mr Cartwright, yes, I ah – I bumped into him on his way out." Will collected himself. "How was your talk?"
"Brief." Victoria wandered back to the coach where Dash waited expectedly. "He seems a very confident man."
"Yes well he believes he's going to be the next President." He said with a droll voice as she sat back down.
"Will he?" She looked up at him.
Will just shrugged. "Duller things have happened."
He won a short breath of a laugh from her, which he couldn't help but meet with a shared conspiratorial smile, when she looked away and her expression slowly fell back into something more sombre.
"How are you feeling, ma'am?" Will stepped forward.
"Tired." She gave him a brief wan smile as he moved to sit on the other end of the couch, while she continued to pat the energetic bundle of fur between them. "Haven't been able to get much sleep the past few days, mind's just been…"
"…racing?"
"Hmm." She hummed lightly as she looked up from her dog. "Do you think the Americans will leave?"
"What did the Ambassador say?" He avoided the question and leaned against the back of the couch.
"Everything and nothing." Victoria huffed.
"Seems to be his speciality."
She didn't respond. Instead sat in silence, looking at the ground in thought as her fingers reflexively combed through Dash's silky hair.
"I mean – technically – it is US land, isn't it?" She finally spoke out as she looked up at him. "Qatar can't just ask them to leave - it's the American air base. It's the same thing with embassies, right?"
"Not exactly. It's more like they are leasing the land. The equipment, the aircraft, the personnel – they all belong to the United States, but the ground they stand on, that is still Qatari."
"So they have no choice but to leave." She stated matter-of-factly.
"They also have no reason to leave." Will looked over to Victoria, who just frowned in confusion. He shifted his body on the couch to face her. "The United States and Qatar have been in a relatively amicable relationship for years now, the base itself was built by the former Emir specifically for the Americans. Then all of a sudden Qatar wants them gone. The US has every right to dispute the eviction."
"Yes, but it's not all of a sudden." Victoria tucked her knee up on the couch to turn to him.
"Isn't it?"
"No, because we now have proof that Qatar owned the missile launcher."
"Which the Emir claims was stolen from them."
"But he's obviously lying."
"So what if he is?"
"So… everything if he is." Victoria seemed to bubble with conviction. "It means he attacked first, and now he's kicking out the Americans before they can attack him. It's a preemtive strike."
Something started to rise in Will's chest as he watched Victoria try to reason through the madness, something almost akin to pride. "And how do you suppose 6000 US Military personnel armed to the teeth would react to such a strike?" He set up.
"Badly."
"Exactly."
"And then Qatar would need help, because they've got a tiny army – and so that means they'd to Iran for support - "
"- and then?"
"- and then if Iran gets involved, Saudi Arabia's definitely jumping in against them. And then it all becomes a complete mess! It is a complete mess!" Victoria made an odd frustrated groan as she balled up her face and collapsed against the back of the couch, which Will couldn't help but find strangely endearing, especially with Dash overreacting at the sudden loss of contact as he began to nuzzle against her side. "What was the Emir even thinking?" She continued as her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling. "He's just trapped everyone into some stupid game of chicken."
Will just frowned, pained that he couldn't give the comfort of a simple answer, so instead he reached out to give a little scratch on Dash's back, who then redirected his attention to him, happily padding across the cushion and into his lap. "Perhaps he's hedging his bets. Depending on what happens with the UN Investigation, he may want to hold on to some sort of bargaining power."
Victoria let her head fall to look at him. "What, by creating some giant self-destruct button?"
"Seems so."
"Well he's stupid." Victoria snapped, her face serious. "I want to call him and tell him he's stupid."
Will felt a weight sink across his shoulders again, as they returned to a familiar refrain. "I'm afraid diplomatically – "
"Oh, stuff diplomacy!" The Queen let out. "What has it ever given us? Has the Emir been arrested? No. Has my family gotten justice? No. All I get are stupid meet-and-greets with smug ambassadors trying to butter me up with vapid complements about my stupid outfits." Will felt his insides twist in guilt as he watched Victoria vent her frustrations, each point of his failures hitting him with a rawness that stung. "Like what are they expecting?" She continued unabated. "Are they trying to make me their pawn or something? It's not going to work you know."
"I know."
Victoria fell silent.
Her gaze returned to the ceiling as Will sat in wait. Sinking into regret.
"….not that I'd be a particularly good pawn anyway." Her voice was low as she began to retreat into her thoughts. Will opened his mouth to instinctually oppose her dark rumination, but she carried on unheeded, eyes staring up to the white painted heavens. "I mean, it's just… I know I have this title. I have a house of my own now, I have all these people working for me – I'm free and I'm grateful, but sometimes… I mean I know I shouldn't… but I swear sometimes it feels like… I just feel… useless. Stuck. Unable to do anything. The world is spiralling down into ruin and all I can do is watch."
Will sat in silence.
Wanting desperately to say something.
But completely unable to.
"Which is stupid because I'm the Queen. The Queen. That's me. I guess."
"What do you want to be?" He found himself asking, the question seemingly snapping her out of her thoughts as she suddenly turned and looked at him with honest and vulnerable surprise. "If you could be anything in the world, what would you choose?" He continued, softly.
She just looked at him. Blinking.
"An illustrator." She whispered delicately, almost as if she were afraid to voice it.
Will couldn't help but smile, the simplicity of her answer drawing him out slightly from his own black thoughts.
"I didn't know you drew." He encouraged warmly, as somewhere deep and hidden inside he thrilled at being permitted into this side of her. "Could you draw me some day?"
"You?" Her brow rose and it seemed that her cheeks began to redden, but then Dash slipped through his arms and back into her lap so she looked away before he had a chance to adjudicate. "Well – Of course – I mean – if you want to…" She looked back at up him with a newly gathered determination. "If you don't mind sitting still for a good while, that is."
"That just so happens to be my speciality." He smiled as their eyes met. "Why an illustrator?"
"I'm not sure." Victoria scrunched up her lips as she began to relax back into the couch. "I mean, it's not as if I like children that much… I guess… It could be that growing up I wasn't allowed TV, and I wasn't a very strong reader, so I escaped to picture books. And drawing… I don't know, I suppose that was an escape too - a way for me to create worlds when I was stuck in mine."
An unexpected memory dropped with sudden clarity into Will's mind. "You made a picture book for little George."
"What?" She looked at him in surprise.
"You told me that, when we first met."
"You remember?"
"Of course I do."
She held him still with her wide blue eyes as her lips drifted into a curious smile, a delicate, discordant chord of joy and sorrow.
When they first met.
It seemed so long ago.
The quiet girl standing alone in the empty room, wearing a jumper that was too big for her.
Such an odd thing.
That girl seemed like an eternal stranger to him, a figure frozen in time, totally unrelated to the person sitting beside him at that moment. The fierce, wilful, astonishing person who, without intention or prediction, had managed to wrap herself around every frame of his life with striking ease.
And he was utterly ok with that.
"Did you want to be Prime Minister when you grew up?" Victoria's unexpected question caused him to erupt with a laugh. "What?" She asked at his decaying chuckles as he relaxed back against the couch, her brow scrunching up adorably.
"Nothing, nothing…" He said, rubbing his eyes. "God knows. Maybe. Possibly." Will thought back to his childhood self, all odd angles and wild hair trying in vain to contain his off-beat and directionless energy. He didn't remember the particular want to be something, just the fervent desire to impress. "I was stupid enough back then."
Victoria frowned.
"How come Mrs Portman's not PM?" Her question caught him unawares as she spoke with a genuine, un-accusatory tone.
"Hmm?" Will looked at her curiously.
"Emma – the other night she mentioned she was the President of Young Labour when you first met. I don't know I just thought… If she was the leader then, and you never really pursued leadership… How come you're the PM and she's your Chief of Staff?"
Will let out a quiet sigh and crossed his arms. "It is a rather odd result, isn't it? I suppose it could go back to my final year at Cambridge – back then I was much more susceptible to the delusion of power. I fancied an ego boost so I ran against her. Two years of consistent and diligent work and she lost out to some boy who safety pinned a hammer and sickle to his Valentino jacket. Thank god she got over it though, otherwise I'd have gotten nowhere in life." He looked over to her with a smile, but was only met with an uncharmed blank face. Seemed the women in his life shared a similar immunity. He swiftly dropped his look. "She hasn't for office since, but I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe she prefers me as her puppet."
"You're not a puppet." She admonished.
"Oh I assure you I am." Will laid his hands together atop his middle comfortably. "And quite a content puppet at that. I got my own fancy title, plus free accommodation in the heart of London with the world's shortest commute - some puppets are far worse off, like – "
" – Punch and Judy?" Victoria raised a brow as a small smile played on the edge of her lips.
"Exactly. Imagine getting pummelled for a living? Ghastly. I much prefer ventriloquism. Far more sedate. Though now and then there is the odd – " Will's arms shot up into the air with an ungainly jerk, wrists first as he flapped his hands around, causing Victoria burst out in a bubble of laughter. He peered round his still raised arm and watched her face brighten with mirth even as she put a hand over her mouth to contain her giggles. Will swelled into a smile and joined her in a soft chuckle as he slowly lowered his arms, and Dash hopped two and fro between them, confused as to what was going on. "But no…" He began again as he put out a hand to mess up the dog's silky coat. "I think it's because Emma's far too smart to want the job, whereas I am just a sucker for punishment."
"Well I think you're an excellent PM." Victoria straightened her back as she sat cross-legged on the couch.
"That is high praise indeed, but I feel rather undeserved - "
"Nonsense!" She let out when he suddenly felt her soft hand grab his, causing Dash to jump out from underneath, and Will to snap his eyes back to her determined face. "You have been an incredible advisor to me. I won't have you putting yourself down like that, do you understand?"
His hand began to throb with a growing heat that sped down his arm and through his body with a heady rush.
Fuck.
Think.
Steady breathing.
"Yes ma'am." He murmured softly, his voice surprisingly rough as he remained fixed to her startling blue eyes.
"Good." She replied firmly, yet it seemed like her breath fluttered for the briefest of moments after she spoke the word, causing his heartbeat to race even faster.
His hand pulsed with the aching rhythm.
No way she couldn't feel that underneath her palm.
No way she couldn't feel his reaction to her.
What if she felt the same way?
Three tidy knocks shattered his thoughts as he felt the swift brush of Victoria's hand as it left his.
"Come in." She called with a cracked voice as she rearranged herself into a more presentable manner on the couch, while Will couldn't help but remain stuck in his spot, rushing over the past few seconds in his mind, wanting to recapture the feeling, paranoid it was all a delusion.
The door to the study opened, revealing the short butler carrying a silver tray.
"Please forgive the lateness, Your Majesty." The butler gave a short bow of his head then gracefully hurried into the room. "His Excellency the Ambassador was so fond of our hospitality, he took his time to relinquish it." He said primly as he deposited the tray on the table with a tinkle of fine china, revealing their morning tea along with a red leather-bound folder.
"That's alright Mr Stevens, thank you." Will heard Victoria's tight voice reply as he slowly brushed down a trouser leg on his thigh then looked up at the still waiting butler with a tight smile.
"Mrs Sutherland has some updates for you to look over." Stevens continued. "When you have the time, of course." The butler gave a brief nod to Will, who couldn't help but feel like he'd been caught in something.
He needed to get out of there.
He didn't want to leave.
"Thank you Stevens, that will be all." Victoria said pleasantly as she shuffled closer to the tray. The butler gave a deep bow and paced backwards towards the door as she picked up the cafetière and began to pour a cup.
"Perhaps I should leave you too it then." Will started awkwardly, finding his gap.
"But we only just got the coffee." Victoria shot him a look. "At least have a little before you go." She entreated as she held up the delicate cup and saucer to him.
The sound of the door closing filled the room.
"One then." He gave a tight smile and collected the coffee, making sure his fingers stayed clear of hers. "But please, don't let me stop you with your own duties, I think we've covered all of mine for this week." He lied.
"Oh I'm sure it's nothing serious." Victoria waved off as she collected the red folder and flung open the cover. "It's from Harriet so I'm sure it's all just birthday nonsense."
Will nodded along as she flicked through the mountain of papers, a barrage of lists and swatches and photos. "Of course, that's in – "
"Two weeks." Victoria finished as she gave him a smile. "Harriet's planning the party – well it's not like a party party, more like a celebration of others. A Celebration for Youth Change-Makers she's calling it. We're inviting all these young volunteers and activists and honouring their work. Harriet doesn't think it's a good look right now to hold some big lavish party for myself, so we're doing this instead. Plus it's not like I have many friends to invite anyway… well besides you, of course." She added quickly as she flicked him a look across her shoulder then buried herself back into the notes.
Will took a large gulp of his coffee.
"Malala Yousafzai, Stormzy, Emma Wats-oh my god." Victoria choked in a sudden breath, causing Will to lower his cup with a confused look. "Hermione." She stated the single name with a seriousness that was not expected, when she looked over to Will with a stunned face. "Hermione Granger is coming to my birthday party."
Will couldn't help but feel a little joy in her excitement. "I thought you just said it wasn't your birthday party?" He teased playfully as he took another sip.
"Well it is now." She proclaimed haughtily as she closed the folder with a slap. "But don't worry, you won't have to get me a present or anything…" She parried then petered off, as if she was expecting a sharp reply. But instead Will remained silent. An insecure smile tugged at her lips. "You are coming to the party, of course?"
Shit.
"I…" He began carefully as he returned his cup to the tray, trying to avoid her gaze as it followed him down. "…I would like nothing more, ma'am, but as monarch you must be seen to be politically impartial, and I think having me along to your party will imply to the public-at-large that you are anything but."
Victoria was not amused.
"So I invite Mr dull-breath Cameron as well. Instant bipartisanship!" She proclaimed. "Which means you'll have to come, otherwise I'll be stuck with him blathering on and I'll fall asleep onto my own cake."
That won a small smile from Will.
"I don't know ma'am, surely with that amazing guest list you don't want boring old me there too."
"You're the only one I want there."
Will stopped short.
His heart swelled with an intoxicating heat.
It was wrong. He shouldn't be so affected by her affection, shouldn't be so damn pliable against her words – they were just words, they could mean anything to her, they could mean nothing, he could be completely misreading them – he shouldn't be such a fucking teenager.
But the way she looked at him with those eyes.
He clasped his hands together.
"What about Hermione?" He snuck her a smile.
Victoria narrowed her eyes. "Ok you and Emma Watson. And maybe Jameela Jamil too."
Will couldn't help but give her a knowing look. "Seems like this Queen-thing has some perks after all."
She put on a smile, but suddenly the twinkle of excitement in her eyes seemed to dissipate.
"Seems so." She said, then looked away.
Will wanted to punch himself.
"But I'll be there." He broke the silence carefully, trying to pull the rare moment of lightness back together, when Victoria looked back at him with a renewed glow. "Just to keep Mr Cameron distracted. Although I might throw him at Stormzy just for my own amusement. If that's alright with Your Majesty, of course." He added with a respectful nod.
"That is fine by us, Mr M." She smiled, contented.
He smiled back.
It was a mistake. He knew that.
But there he was anyway. Sitting with her in silence, listening to the soft patter of the rain against old glass, the dark clouds barely encroaching on the soft warm light of the palace study.
Neck deep in her world, stuck, unwilling to leave.
Only option was to wade in deeper.