In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

Birdman's Eye View: If You Love Someone...

BRIIIING BRIIIING

BRIIIING BRII-

Click.

"Hello?"

"John."

"Yes?  Who's-"

"It's Freddie."

"Oh, hello!  How's-"

"Are you busy at the moment?"

"...No?"

"Then come quickly."  He sounds so strange.

"What's going on?"

"And bring the thing."

"Freddie, I don't unders-"

"Come now.  Please."

Click.

This ten second chat is all I have to go off of.  Just a few lines of dialogue between us- me nasal and confused, Freddie hoarse and melancholy.  But he said, "Bring the thing."  Bring the Relic. 

So Julia's back, it seems.  First impulse is to be glad- but under what circumstances has she returned?  He certainly didn't sound too pleased.  I suppose I'm about to find out.  Despite this being another precious free day from the studio, and how late it is (maybe Julia had something there when she called him a vampire- just kidding), I clamber into my car and head for Freddie's. 

I pull up to the curb and park carefully.  Freddie isn't alone; there's a couple of cars near his door.  He had mentioned something earlier about a get-together he was having.  With the Relic in hand, I hurry to Number Twelve.

I'm a few steps from the door when it opens, and that friend of our manager's steps out.  Prentiss, or Prenter, something like that, the one who just really hit it off with Freddie a couple of months ago.  The light over the stoop hits his face eerily.  I don't know what it is, but something about this fellow gives me the willies.

"Good evening," I say to be polite.

He doesn't respond, instead just grimaces at me and walks past.  Prenter doesn't seem to say anything, ever, unless it's to Freddie.  I'm not sure how I feel about that, though it's probably a good old-fashioned case of paranoia.  I consider Freddie a friend, and I hope all the best for him, but I feel he has his wits about him enough to make his own decisions.  It's not my place to be smothering about it anyway.

Prenter leaves the door a bit ajar.  So all I have to do is push the slab open a bit and walk in.  It's so quiet, for a party.  Then again, it is nearly one o'clock on a Tuesday night (or Wednesday morning), I imagine everyone must have drifted home by now.  One of his cats pads over to say hello.  I rub behind its ears for a minute, then I hear the voices. Freddie and a female, having a soft conversation.  Suddenly I recognize the voice as Mary's, as it's not quite low enough to be Julia's.  I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I can't help myself.

"...Done is lie to you," Mary is saying.  "You do realize that, don't you?"

"I know," Freddie murmurs.

A pause.

"But," he goes on, "I've been less than honest with her this whole time, as well, so, I... I mean, there's really no good guy or bad guy here.  She just is, I just am, and, uh... I mean, it doesn't make any sense, I know, but-"

"No, it doesn't," Mary agrees.  "What is it, really?"

"Hm?"

"What is it about her- that makes all the difference?"