(no subject)
May. 31st, 2005 10:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeAugust 16th, Sometime in the 1980's
Early Morning
14 North Moore Street, Manhattan
While mornings around the firehouse were often marked with alarm bells of one kind or another- the building's integrated alarm, or the alarms on individual clocks- this wasn't always necessarily the case. Sometimes it was the telephone that did the waking up. Or Janine yelling in response to the telephone. Or all three. Ray pulled his pillow over his head and silently prayed that it would all go away.
"Relax, I'll get it," he heard Winston say; he sighed in relief and did his best to sag back into the lumpy mattress. Last night's explanations and apologies had taken way longer than his sleep cycle wanted to deal with. They'd been effective, they'd set things right, but they'd gone on into the wee small hours of the morning. Just another three hours' rest- was that so much to ask?
Apparently so, because not long after, he heard Winston come back. Please don't be looking for me, oh, please don't be looking for me…
"Guys? Get up."
"Right now, Winston, I hate you more than I ever thought it was possible to hate another human being." That was Peter's voice; Ray silently blessed the man for saying what he himself would never have the guts to say. "This'd better be good."
"That was the Columbia Pictures people on the phone."
Ray sat up, blinking, the pillow forgotten. "Why would Columbia Pictures be calling us?"
Egon stared at him; Peter just laughed. "Man, you really are the man from another world," he said. "They're thisclose-" He held up his thumb and forefinger in a pinching gesture. "-to being finished with our movie."
"Movie?"
"Yep." Peter nodded towards Winston. "I don't know how it is in your world, but here, we sold our story to Hollywood a while back. Winston? They gonna pay for us to go out there?"
"Chartered plane and everything. It's all due to go down tonight."
"All right." Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "No offense, Ray, but this is sort of something our version of you was looking forward to-"
"We can't send him back yet, Peter," said Egon; the physicist was polishing his glasses on the edge of his sheets. "The philotic portal blew several circuits when I sent our Ray through. I should be able to fix it after we get back from California."
"Huh. Well, okay then." Peter smiled. "Looks like you get to come along for the ride after all."
Early Morning
14 North Moore Street, Manhattan
While mornings around the firehouse were often marked with alarm bells of one kind or another- the building's integrated alarm, or the alarms on individual clocks- this wasn't always necessarily the case. Sometimes it was the telephone that did the waking up. Or Janine yelling in response to the telephone. Or all three. Ray pulled his pillow over his head and silently prayed that it would all go away.
"Relax, I'll get it," he heard Winston say; he sighed in relief and did his best to sag back into the lumpy mattress. Last night's explanations and apologies had taken way longer than his sleep cycle wanted to deal with. They'd been effective, they'd set things right, but they'd gone on into the wee small hours of the morning. Just another three hours' rest- was that so much to ask?
Apparently so, because not long after, he heard Winston come back. Please don't be looking for me, oh, please don't be looking for me…
"Guys? Get up."
"Right now, Winston, I hate you more than I ever thought it was possible to hate another human being." That was Peter's voice; Ray silently blessed the man for saying what he himself would never have the guts to say. "This'd better be good."
"That was the Columbia Pictures people on the phone."
Ray sat up, blinking, the pillow forgotten. "Why would Columbia Pictures be calling us?"
Egon stared at him; Peter just laughed. "Man, you really are the man from another world," he said. "They're thisclose-" He held up his thumb and forefinger in a pinching gesture. "-to being finished with our movie."
"Movie?"
"Yep." Peter nodded towards Winston. "I don't know how it is in your world, but here, we sold our story to Hollywood a while back. Winston? They gonna pay for us to go out there?"
"Chartered plane and everything. It's all due to go down tonight."
"All right." Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "No offense, Ray, but this is sort of something our version of you was looking forward to-"
"We can't send him back yet, Peter," said Egon; the physicist was polishing his glasses on the edge of his sheets. "The philotic portal blew several circuits when I sent our Ray through. I should be able to fix it after we get back from California."
"Huh. Well, okay then." Peter smiled. "Looks like you get to come along for the ride after all."
