Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

25. Rick and Roxie, Part Two

"No, no, no!  That's the wrong one.  His real name i-"

"YES."

The word leapt from my throat automatically.  Both Danny and Roxie jumped and turned to me, startled.  After a few seconds, I cleared my throat.

"Yes, what?" Roxie asked meekly.

I hadn't much time.  Quickly I thought back to what Julia had done to mask her voice at the party, make sure I didn't recognize her.  She had put on some kind of ridiculous accent, hadn't she?  Russian or something?  Yes.  Now granted, I was about as good as accents and impressions as Julia was at lying: I was crap.  But did it really matter?  Roxie hadn't been the most intuitive even back in '82 (It was 1982, wasn't it?) and with as much time I had on my side, I could do whatever I wanted and still maintain my anonymity as far as she was concerned.

Without warning this string of clear, collected words shot through my mind so fast I hardly even realized what was going on: I'll just go for it.  My voice is my voice.  My teeth are my teeth.  I can't help those, but I can work around them.  And whatever accent pops out now, however absurd, I'll stick to it until this woman goes away.  She won't be here the whole time.  Go for it.  Right.  One two three, GO.

And so, at last, I explained, in a round, deep, clipped diction that at first I didn't even recognize, "Richard Dubroc... that's my name."

Danny whirled, face contorted in disbelief.  "Wha-"

I held up my finger, and he was silent.  I continued in what I suppose was intended to be somewhat of an American accent, "Sorry for not, ah... immediately jumping to a greeting, I - didn't know we would be entertaining, aha- such charming company tonight." 

Roxie giggled.  "Oh, no, I'm not staying for dinner, I just came to drop off Danny's costume."

"Costume?"

"For the Christmas program this Sunday," she explained. 

Danny nodded.  "I'm a shepherd."

"It's still in the car, I'll go get it."

I offered to help, but Roxie insisted that she could go bring it in herself.  Danny stayed right where he was, lips tight, as though he was trying his very hardest not to simply explode with laughter. 

As soon as Roxie stepped outside again, I turned to Danny and asked him in my normal accent, "What?"

He utterly lost it.  The front room filled with his sweet blithe laughter.  I let myself join in, relieved my cover hadn't blown yet.  I really couldn't blame him, to be honest; I can't mimick an American accent for nuts, or any other accent for that matter.  I'm far too English for that.

"What's so funny?" I smiled.

"What are you talking like that for?" he managed.

"Talking like what?"

"You sounded so weird a minute ago!"

"I had to- and will have to, as long as I'm around our dear Roxie."

"But why?"

"Never mind why.  It's complicated.  And look," I added, "There's a reason they gave me that fake name, it's so people wouldn't recognize me and gum up the works even more."

"Yeah, but she's Cousin Roxie!"

"Which is exactly the reason I need you not to tell her or so much as hint at who I really am."

"I don't get it."

I took a deep breath, and decided to be perfectly honest with the boy.  "I've met her before, a long time ago."