#117 - Claddagh - Need - m_l_h - Top Gear
Oct. 18th, 2008 01:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Need
Fandom: Top Gear, James May/Jeremy Clarkson
Prompt: Claddagh
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Summary: James considers what he needs in life.
James May isn’t used to talking about himself. He’ll discuss the latest motorcycle he’s attempting to resurrect, or the latest stage in his pilot training course, but he’s not familiar with having to discuss his private life – especially not to strangers. The woman sitting across the table from him, her glasses perched carefully toward the end of her nose and stirring her cup of coffee for the 17th time (yes he has been counting) definitely counts as a stranger.
The coffee shop (yet another expanding chain soon to gain World Domination) is busy enough for people not to pay them much attention, but not so loud that James has to strain to hear - which is fine, because he doesn’t fancy leaning any closer to this journalist. From the moment they met almost half an hour ago, he was given the impression that she wasn’t to be messed with. He imagined that anyone who crossed her in their office only did so once in their lifetime.
She had chosen the table, ordered their drinks and quickly gone over the premise of the interview; “We’re just looking for a bit of information on the show, some background to it, maybe a few bits and pieces about you, for those who aren’t petrolheads.” That had thumped the final nail straight into the coffin. He’d bitten his tongue, taken a sip of his scalding hot tea and smiled as politely as possible. As far as he was concerned, the sooner this was over the better.
“So, Mr May,” she’s staring at him with intense blue eyes that make him feel like he’s being interrogated, “a few questions about you.” James looks miserably at the bottom of his cup, wishing for more tea to appear. It doesn’t. “We know all the usual stuff – middle-aged, not married, living with a cat,” James’ toes curl in restraint, “we don’t need you to go over that again. We like to go a bit deeper, try to find out something new, something differnet about our stars.” James swallows and prays that it wasn’t quite as loud as he thinks. “Are you happy Mr May?”
James blinks. He’s sure that something – dementia, deafness – is setting in, because that’s not a question he’s ever been asked. Not seriously anyway. “Pardon?”
“Are you happy?” Her smile irritates him to the point of wanting to throw his teaspoon in her general direction just to shock her, make her do something more human. “You seem to have a fairly simple life – your bikes, cars, planes, and a job that no doubt half the men in the country crave, but is there anything you would change?”
The words ring through his head, over and over. In his previous 45 years he’s always wanted something – a new bike, another pint, carpet for his bloody stairs – but they’ve never really affected him. During that time, he became used to not having what he wanted. What he needs however is a different story.
He can always remember wanting a good friend, someone he could talk to about anything, no matter how shallow or deep, someone he could whittle away the hours with, doing absolutely nothing. Growing up, he learned that he needed someone by his side, someone who would be there through thick and thin.
James turned his mobile over and over in his hands, glancing every five seconds through the bus window. Still no sign. His heart raced and he checked his watch again. They were due to depart in one minute, and knowing Japanese transport they would leave in precisely one minute. And then where would he be? Stuck on a bus by himself going goodness knows where in a country where English wasn’t popular.
Fuck.
“James!”
Relief flooded through him as the rushed figure of Richard Hammond barrelled onto the bus (followed closely by an out-of-breath cameraman), fishing money from his pocket in a hurry before running down to the back to land beside James.
“Thought I wasn’t going to bloody make it!”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Sorry mate.”
James smiled at Richard, “don’t worry about it. Shall we call Jeremy to gloat that we’re back on track?”
“I don’t think the locals are going to be impressed.” Richard nodded in the direction of several Japanese businessmen who were already glaring at them.
“Do you really care?”
The grin that spread across Richard’s face was enough of an answer as he delved into the depths of his pockets once again, this time to retrieve his phone.
Friendship isn’t the only thing in life that James needs. In a variety of forms throughout his life, James has craved love; someone to love, and even more so, someone to love him. He remembers many people telling him that he would find someone eventually, right under his nose, when he wasn’t expecting it. They couldn’t have been more right.
“James, it’s fine.”
“No it’s not!”
“It was a minor scratch, no major injuries, barely even a bruise to show for it. Now will you please stop pacing, it’s giving me a headache.”
“See? What if that’s something to do with the accident? What if you’ve got an injury we don’t know about yet? What if...” He wasn’t sure when Jeremy had backed him against the wall, but it stopped his pacing, and his train of thought.
“James, it was a minor shunt. You saw it yourself.”
“I just...” James ducked his head, noticing how Jeremy had managed to manoeuvre him without actually stepping inside James’ personal space.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“James?”
James sighed. “I just worry, that’s all.” Resigned, he slumped against the wall.
“I know.”
He gazed up at Jeremy, confused; “What?”
“I know.”
“Oh.” The conversation had been a silent one, saying more than either of them could with words. So James hesitantly reached out, resting a hand on Jeremy’s side before the taller man wrapped James in his arms. He had no idea how long they stayed there for, but in those innumerable moments James felt more loved than he had done ever before.
James came to understand with friendship and love he needed trust, someone who would stick up for him no matter what; someone who would stand by him in any situation. When it came down to it, he needed someone to be loyal to him, and to whom he could return the favour.
“It’s a disaster.” James’ words were muffled, his head buried in his hands.
“It’s not a fucking disaster, James.”
“It’s not great.” They both glanced up at Andy, who remarkably seemed to be the calmest person in the room.
“If it goes to the press we’re all fucked, Andy.”
“Jeremy’s right Andy; we were stupid enough to get caught, so we’re going to have to take the rap for it.” James could see his future fading rapidly, Top Gear sliding into a sea of sordid, cheesy headlines and photographers doing their utmost to get that one shot that everyone wanted. He felt sick.
“I’ll get it sorted.”
James glanced at Jeremy, Jeremy glanced at James.
“He was just an assistant, an easy enough story to disprove,” Andy was already making his way from the room, “just don’t be stupid enough to get caught again. As much as I’d love to, there’s only so many favours I can call in.”
“Mr May?”
James directed his attention back to his companion. “No, there is absolutely nothing I would change. Now if you don’t mind, despite your opinion I’m actually quite busy. You’ll have to excuse me. Thank you for the tea.”
James doesn’t turn back as he leaves the cafe, he doesn’t need to.
Fandom: Top Gear, James May/Jeremy Clarkson
Prompt: Claddagh
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13
Summary: James considers what he needs in life.
James May isn’t used to talking about himself. He’ll discuss the latest motorcycle he’s attempting to resurrect, or the latest stage in his pilot training course, but he’s not familiar with having to discuss his private life – especially not to strangers. The woman sitting across the table from him, her glasses perched carefully toward the end of her nose and stirring her cup of coffee for the 17th time (yes he has been counting) definitely counts as a stranger.
The coffee shop (yet another expanding chain soon to gain World Domination) is busy enough for people not to pay them much attention, but not so loud that James has to strain to hear - which is fine, because he doesn’t fancy leaning any closer to this journalist. From the moment they met almost half an hour ago, he was given the impression that she wasn’t to be messed with. He imagined that anyone who crossed her in their office only did so once in their lifetime.
She had chosen the table, ordered their drinks and quickly gone over the premise of the interview; “We’re just looking for a bit of information on the show, some background to it, maybe a few bits and pieces about you, for those who aren’t petrolheads.” That had thumped the final nail straight into the coffin. He’d bitten his tongue, taken a sip of his scalding hot tea and smiled as politely as possible. As far as he was concerned, the sooner this was over the better.
“So, Mr May,” she’s staring at him with intense blue eyes that make him feel like he’s being interrogated, “a few questions about you.” James looks miserably at the bottom of his cup, wishing for more tea to appear. It doesn’t. “We know all the usual stuff – middle-aged, not married, living with a cat,” James’ toes curl in restraint, “we don’t need you to go over that again. We like to go a bit deeper, try to find out something new, something differnet about our stars.” James swallows and prays that it wasn’t quite as loud as he thinks. “Are you happy Mr May?”
James blinks. He’s sure that something – dementia, deafness – is setting in, because that’s not a question he’s ever been asked. Not seriously anyway. “Pardon?”
“Are you happy?” Her smile irritates him to the point of wanting to throw his teaspoon in her general direction just to shock her, make her do something more human. “You seem to have a fairly simple life – your bikes, cars, planes, and a job that no doubt half the men in the country crave, but is there anything you would change?”
The words ring through his head, over and over. In his previous 45 years he’s always wanted something – a new bike, another pint, carpet for his bloody stairs – but they’ve never really affected him. During that time, he became used to not having what he wanted. What he needs however is a different story.
He can always remember wanting a good friend, someone he could talk to about anything, no matter how shallow or deep, someone he could whittle away the hours with, doing absolutely nothing. Growing up, he learned that he needed someone by his side, someone who would be there through thick and thin.
James turned his mobile over and over in his hands, glancing every five seconds through the bus window. Still no sign. His heart raced and he checked his watch again. They were due to depart in one minute, and knowing Japanese transport they would leave in precisely one minute. And then where would he be? Stuck on a bus by himself going goodness knows where in a country where English wasn’t popular.
Fuck.
“James!”
Relief flooded through him as the rushed figure of Richard Hammond barrelled onto the bus (followed closely by an out-of-breath cameraman), fishing money from his pocket in a hurry before running down to the back to land beside James.
“Thought I wasn’t going to bloody make it!”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Sorry mate.”
James smiled at Richard, “don’t worry about it. Shall we call Jeremy to gloat that we’re back on track?”
“I don’t think the locals are going to be impressed.” Richard nodded in the direction of several Japanese businessmen who were already glaring at them.
“Do you really care?”
The grin that spread across Richard’s face was enough of an answer as he delved into the depths of his pockets once again, this time to retrieve his phone.
Friendship isn’t the only thing in life that James needs. In a variety of forms throughout his life, James has craved love; someone to love, and even more so, someone to love him. He remembers many people telling him that he would find someone eventually, right under his nose, when he wasn’t expecting it. They couldn’t have been more right.
“James, it’s fine.”
“No it’s not!”
“It was a minor scratch, no major injuries, barely even a bruise to show for it. Now will you please stop pacing, it’s giving me a headache.”
“See? What if that’s something to do with the accident? What if you’ve got an injury we don’t know about yet? What if...” He wasn’t sure when Jeremy had backed him against the wall, but it stopped his pacing, and his train of thought.
“James, it was a minor shunt. You saw it yourself.”
“I just...” James ducked his head, noticing how Jeremy had managed to manoeuvre him without actually stepping inside James’ personal space.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“James?”
James sighed. “I just worry, that’s all.” Resigned, he slumped against the wall.
“I know.”
He gazed up at Jeremy, confused; “What?”
“I know.”
“Oh.” The conversation had been a silent one, saying more than either of them could with words. So James hesitantly reached out, resting a hand on Jeremy’s side before the taller man wrapped James in his arms. He had no idea how long they stayed there for, but in those innumerable moments James felt more loved than he had done ever before.
James came to understand with friendship and love he needed trust, someone who would stick up for him no matter what; someone who would stand by him in any situation. When it came down to it, he needed someone to be loyal to him, and to whom he could return the favour.
“It’s a disaster.” James’ words were muffled, his head buried in his hands.
“It’s not a fucking disaster, James.”
“It’s not great.” They both glanced up at Andy, who remarkably seemed to be the calmest person in the room.
“If it goes to the press we’re all fucked, Andy.”
“Jeremy’s right Andy; we were stupid enough to get caught, so we’re going to have to take the rap for it.” James could see his future fading rapidly, Top Gear sliding into a sea of sordid, cheesy headlines and photographers doing their utmost to get that one shot that everyone wanted. He felt sick.
“I’ll get it sorted.”
James glanced at Jeremy, Jeremy glanced at James.
“He was just an assistant, an easy enough story to disprove,” Andy was already making his way from the room, “just don’t be stupid enough to get caught again. As much as I’d love to, there’s only so many favours I can call in.”
“Mr May?”
James directed his attention back to his companion. “No, there is absolutely nothing I would change. Now if you don’t mind, despite your opinion I’m actually quite busy. You’ll have to excuse me. Thank you for the tea.”
James doesn’t turn back as he leaves the cafe, he doesn’t need to.
