A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

23. Road Worriers

Julia

"Here's one," Danny chirped behind my head. "Who's better? Prince or Michael Jackson?"

John snickered softly to himself, while Freddie twisted himself around to give Danny an incredulous little smirk. "Why does this feel like a trick question?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"The fact that you're even asking the, um- I mean, there's really only one way to answer, isn't there?"

"No, there's two; but there is only one right answer," Danny said sagely.

"Right." Freddie snapped his fingers. "Michael Jackson it is."

"Wrong!" Danny grinned. "So wrong! That's the wrongest thing anyone's ever said in the history of ever!"

"But the truth isn't nice, Mr. Phantom, you said so yourself," Freddie simpered, egging him on.

"Only sometimes, and this isn't one of them. At least- not nice for you, but for me it's all marshmallows."

"I mean I love Prince, don't get me wrong, but Michael's a much better dancer, and really I don't think anyone's going to ever top the Thriller album."

"But Michael Jackson's a weirdo."

"And Prince isn't?"

"Not in a creepy way, like Michael."

"With all due respect, okay, I've actually met the lad, been in his house, cut a track or two that will probably never see the light of day at this point- but I've seen Michael in action, and to watch him work would blow your mind. So- I mean he's different, yes, but when you grow up the way he did, doing the things he did, you'd almost have to be."

Intrigued, I opened my mouth to ask what Michael may have told Freddie about his upbringing, but Danny spoke first. "Was there a Ferris wheel?"

Freddie squinted. "What?"

"You said you went to his house, so you must have seen the Ferris wheel."

"I- don't remember that. He's got a lot of animals, but nothing that wild."

"Mom says he had one." All of a sudden I felt Danny's finger jabbing hard into my shoulder. "What was the other thing about him, Mom? The big thing?"

I had a bad feeling about where this was going; I kept my eyes on the road. "I don't remember right now, sweetie."

Fortunately, that was enough for him. "And his house is called Neverland I think, like in Peter Pan."

John coughed uncomfortably. "Yes, it was called Neverland Ranch, now put your seat belt back on before your mum has to hit the brakes."

I whipped my head around. "Danny, buckle up!"

"I am, I am," he mumbled, the words followed shortly by a metallic click. "Can we stop soon, Mom?"

"We're at forty miles to empty, so we'll take the next exit and fill up somewhere there." A yawn wrapped itself subtly around the end of the sentence, so I bit it back carefully before continuing, "Sound good, fellas?"

I have no idea if anyone heard me. "Wait, wait," Danny gasped. "You did a song with Michael Jackson?"

Freddie chuckled. "Yeah, we recorded a few songs, they're still somewhat unfinished, but yes, we worked together for a brief time."

"Seriously?! Tell me about it!"

Freddie obliged- and I exhaled the breath I had unwittingly been holding in. While I never appreciate being flat-out ignored, especially by my own son, I also did not mind a reprieve from Freddie staring at my profile as though he was trying to mentally carve a window to my mind. He had been alternating between that and scrawling intently in his notebook, with some fluffy conversation and absent-minded lip-smacking sprinkled throughout, ever since we left Monroe- which, since we had been on the road for two and a half hours straight, was rubbing me frightfully raw.