"Crossword" by thebirdgod
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or the characters within. I also do not own the Courier Journal, where most, if not all, crossword questions come from.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far! And a big thanks for taking the time to just read it! This chapter is a little shorter, and more for the laughter it causes than anything actually contributing to the plot. It's the celebratory chapter for my having just officially graduating from college, so enjoy the silliness as it ensues, and expect another (and more serious chapter) on the way!
Pairings: JohnnyxRobert, MiguelxKai, OliverxEnrique, SpencerxBryan, TalaxClaude
"~_~" is conversation in Gaelic
Chapter 8
2 Down
At some point, everyone had fallen into a peaceful slumber in the living room, with Robert leading the charge. And so, that meant that everyone would, at one point or another, wake up in the living room the following morning cuddled up with their significant other.
Unfortunately, they were all about to wake up at the same time, all because of an unintentional moment from the Russian prankster, Ian.
"WAAAAAHHHHHH! GET IT AWAY!" Was the piercing (and distinctly unmanly) wail that echoed through the hallway and into the living room, causing several the unwanted wake up call. In fact, the wail caused several things to happen almost simultaneously.
Spencer and Bryan snapped awake immediately, sitting up quickly only to find themselves tangled up in their blanket and each other. They began trying to disengage from both as fast as they could, though in the end they only succeeded in getting more tangled up than before.
Kai jolted and began wiggling away from the firm embrace of his boyfriend Miguel, who in turn only tightened his grip as he continued to sleep. An elbow to the ribs was an incentive for the Spaniard to begin his decent from dreamland.
Johnny and Robert woke up, looking at each other in confusion before watching their companions make fools of themselves as they tried to get free and rescue Ian from….whatever it was he was screaming about. They sat up, and then stood, their blanket sliding off of them with ease (they sleep like the dead, unconscious and unmoving). Robert's fingers still lightly held his pillow, letting it dangle precariously from their tips. Taking a moment to ignore the ruckus unfolding around them, Johnny turned and claimed a sleepy, sloppy good morning kiss from his boyfriend, who was apparently much more awake than the red head (not like that's a surprise, he has a 4 a.m. wake up call 6 days a week).
Spencer had, after much wiggling and squirming, finally freed his left foot from the deathtrap blanket, and Bryan had managed to detangle himself from his own pants, which had been twisted around his waist and legs several times (apparently they sleep like clowns on crack, odd poses and speed wiggling). It only served to remind him why he slept naked in the privacy of his own room. They were all ready to go on the hunt, but there was no point in them running off to find the youngest Blitz boy, because he came running (or fleeing) for his life, launching himself into Spencer's arms.
"SAAAAVVVE MMMEEE!" he wailed, clutching the blonde.
"From what, exactly?" Johnny grumbled, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He was none too pleased about being woken up from a peaceful sleep with his gorgeous boyfriend, by the crazy wailings of a prepubescent boy.
Beside him Robert stiffened, eyes glued to the back of Ian's head; as much as he had wanted to start a good morning make out session with his Scot, there were some things in life that the purple haired man had to stop everything for, and this, was definitely one of them. Slender fingers adjusted their grip on the pillow, and the German very cautiously began to inch his way towards the group of Russians. It wasn't hard to be stealthy; Bryan's eyes were glued to his lover and the quivering form of their teammate, which was also where Spencer was looking as he tried to make sense of Ian's blubbering.
Off to the side, Oliver and Enrique were muttering to one another about children, and why they were glad they didn't have any (which is probably good for everyone, because sure, they'd be cute kids, but think of the combination of personalities). Kai flopped back down next to his disgruntled boyfriend, his hand on Miguel's arm as he mumbled apologies for elbowing him, and that he'd make it up to him now that Bryan and Spencer appeared to have the situation under control. That is until Kai noticed a certain purple haired noble stalking closer to young Ian. From his position, the Japanese-Russian man couldn't really tell what the German was stalking towards, and if his knowledge served him right, Robert wasn't exactly the kind of guy to start a pillow fight (unless retaliation was involved), and he certainly wouldn't do it when something was obviously distressing someone as young, and meek as Ian. Well, maybe just as young as Ian.
There was a flurry of movement at that moment; Robert slammed the pillow into the back of Ian's head, before jumping and making a very undignified noise as the object on Ian's head began scurrying around on the ground near where it fell. Ian wailed again, Bryan hurled a shoe (and missed…), Kai jumped onto the coffee table whilst Miguel jumped onto the couch. Spencer slurred obscenities as another shoe whizzed by (with another astounding miss).
And Jonathan McGregor took his lovely, large, bare foot and went squish.
Sitting around the breakfast table (Johnny having procured the local newspaper from the front porch) shortly after the living room fiasco had been solved and all occupants had regained their composure, everyone seemed relatively satisfied not to talk about the incident all together.
Well, mostly everyone.
Scribble, scribble, "You all freaked out over a spider." Johnny stated, then asked, "Cellar prefix?"
"Ocno," Robert replied over his coffee, "and it wasn't a spider, it was a mutant tarantula."
Johnny stopped writing in the answer to give his lover a flat look that could only be read as an 'I can't believe you' look. "Mutant tarantula," he muttered, shaking his head.
Ian nodded vigorously, "It wanted my blood! And it would've succeeded if Robert hadn't way-laid it with his pillow!"
"Didn't hit it very hard, bastard was still moving," Bryan goaded.
"Coming from the Abbey-trained soldier who threw two shoes and missed both times?" Robert replied as he unfolded the business section of the paper. The Russian felt the decency to blush at that statement.
"~Bunch of pansies,~" Johnny mumbled under his breath, to which he received, what he deemed, the scariest look from his boyfriend ever imaginable. "~Not you,~" he quickly grumbled on, unnerved, "~at least you hit it before squealing.~"
At that point, Robert decided to drop the topic, as indeed, he HAD hit the little bugger, and then turned on his 'I'm a little girl' button and squealed at the top of his lungs when the creature started moving.
"What are you all talking about?" Aaron asked as he entered the kitchen, hesitating to take a seat.
"Nothin'," Johnny replied, scribbling in another answer. His statement effectively saying that what happened in the living room was staying between those present for it.
"I don't believe that," came Tala's voice as he appeared with Claude from behind Aaron, "we hear distinct squealing from Ian."
"I shoved him down the stairs," Robert stated without missing a beat, his face dead serious, "viciously, I might add."
Tala blinked, "Then why was he yelling "Get it away"?"
"I used him as a surf board to get to the bottom." His facial expression never changed.
Across the table, Kai and Miguel sat wide eyed, staring at the German. How was he making this crap up and not smirking? Remind them never to play poker against him.
"I saw the whole thing," Spencer said, joining in, "I was too surprised to do anything until they hit the bottom and Robert dismounted like an Olympic gymnast."
In response, Robert shot his arms up into the air in mock gymnast pose. It was so good, it was scary.
"Knew we should've stayed downstairs," Claude mumbled.
Ian nodded emphatically, "Bryan says the only reason I'm in one piece is because I'm young and Robert's lighter than Kai."
Kai spat out his orange juice and put a hand to his head. That does sound like something Bryan would say (and hey, we can't make it through a story without making fun of Kai being skinny).
"How would you know how much I weight?" Robert asked suspiciously from his end of the table. Eerie silence followed.
"Comic strip character with an eye patch?"
Everyone turned their attention away from Robert and Bryan to the Scot.
"Bazooka Joe," the German replied, sliding the butter nice off the table slowly and into his lap, never taking his eyes off of Bryan.
Said Russian made an audible gulp and scooted closer to Spencer.
Tala shook his head, then asked, "So you mean to tell me that all the commotion this morning was from Robert using Ian as a surf board down the stairs while pretending to be an Olympic gymnast?"
"Yes, now shut up and sit down." Kai stated. If this carried on any longer, someone was bound to blow it, which would be a shame, as the look on Tala's face was just too good to ruin.
"Play with white fowl?"
"Swan Lake."
"Oh, okay, as in the one where you played Odette?"
"Yes, that's the one. Odd way to phrase the question though; French crosswords are weird."
"Kind of goes with the people." The Scot replied with a smirk before dodging a sizzling piece of bacon (maybe Oliver should've been the one throwing shoes).
"I knew you danced," Claude began, "based on what you said the other days; but I didn't realize you actually went out and performed."
"Mm, the original Odette and her understudy came down with food poisoning. As the choreographer is a good friend of mine, they simply asked if I would fill in since I'm quite familiar with the part. It wasn't that big of a deal."
"He was fucking awesome," Johnny stated, "and he looked fucking amazing too."
Robert blushed a little before replying, "That's because you have a weird fetish involving me and women's clothing."
"You'd look great in lace panties."