Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 44

"I can't believe this," Brian exclaimed at breakfast the next morning. Queen were due to start recording immediately that day, not wasting any time. The night had run smoothly, Roger had kept himself to himself all night and both him and Bernie slept solidly. It was as if they were in separate beds. The feeling of sharing a bed with him did little to exhilarate her: at this point she should be figuring out if she wanted to hold his hand, or kiss him, or perhaps go on a date, just the pair of them. She didn't feel she should be sharing a bed with him, she wasn't ready. There was the option of sleeping on the sofa, but that was ruled out after she found a massive spider disappear into the scatter cushions.

Where Roger and Bernie were adjusting to this new way of life, Brian was absolutely beside himself. She couldn't blame him, both of them were more than aware of what had gone on that may lead to discomfort in Bernie sharing a bed with a man. Waving a round of toast around, he was talking about Bernie sleeping on the floor of his room, being driven back home, swapping rooms, spending the six weeks with her parents; anything to get her out of Roger's bed. Again, she couldn't blame Brian, but she did wish he'd see her lack of hysterics and realise that she had accepted the situation, in spite of everything. She figured she'd have to get over it at some point, just perhaps not quite that early. But still, she reminded herself that this was a million times better than another six weeks at 'home', and she trusted Roger to stay within her boundaries at the very least. "Bri, Bri, Bri, Bri," she tapped him on the arm repeatedly, trying to break his monologue about God Knows What by that time.

"What?"

"Stop this, it's gunna be fine. I'm trained in martial arts." It was true. During her college course, Bernie had enrolled in martial arts lessons as the police force didn't see it as a necessary skill. However, after seeing what could go on in the streets of London, she solidly believed that she needed to know what to do in a fight better than what the college had taught her to do, so had paid for classes. And they had been extremely successful. Pricey, but a worthwhile skill to have.

After almost an hour of reassuring Brian, Queen, Bernie and the crew made their way to the recording studio part of Rockfield farm. It was well concealed as a barn-looking building with a low roof and stable doors. "Neat," Deacy took in the surroundings and pile of instruments in the booth at the exact same time that Brian said: "it's certainly an interesting studio."

"Look how rustic it is, I love it!" Bernie took in the ceramic hanging lamps, the wooden beams and cosy atmosphere. There was something comforting about the studio that just made her want to curl up and fall asleep in there.

"Wow, this is unlike anything we've ever recorded in before. It's got such a nice environment," Freddie stood by Bernie's side and admired the building with her, clearly seeing the same things as she was. The rest of the band, however, were struggling to see the pragmatic side of the studio. "Can you imagine how much more inspired we're going to feel!" Freddie sat down in a chair and fiddled around with some buttons, that luckily weren't on.

"It'll certainly do," Brian left to fetch his guitar, which was sat safely in his bedroom back upstairs in the house. He returned a few minutes later with it, tuning it slightly as he went.

"Bri, if you tune that thing any more, it'll be out of tune," Bernie remarked, noting how frequently he ogled over his beloved guitar. Her comment was met by a series of snickers from the band, who also solely agreed with her. Freddie always believed that Brian was wasting time by always trying to take care of his guitar like a child, but unfortunately he took offence and the argument brewed for over a month before ceasing. They were on good terms again now however, even if Brian did get teased about his paternity over his guitar.

Whilst Roger tuned his drums and Deacy and Brian plugged their guitars into their amps, Freddie and Bernie went on a tea run, leaving Peter, Paul, Kingsley and Jim 'Miami' on the panel. The hallways were a lot more winding, creaky and homely than all the studios Bernie had previously visited Brian in. She noticed how already, in the space of two hours, the band seemed so much more relaxed here than anywhere else, especially John.

"So, I hear you've been sharing a bed with our Roger," Freddie nudged Bernie's arm with his elbow playfully and she put her hand to her forehead.

"Oh. My. God. And don't I bloody know it, that man can snore for England," she sighed and Freddie just laughed at her.

"Dear, I can't say I'd wanna be the unlucky person to sleep beside him." Personally, Bernie didn't think she was particularly 'unlucky' in having to sleep in the same bed as Roger, but it was certainly an inconvenience when she knew he liked her and she was still arranging her feelings for him, plus Holden leaving her in emotional carnage that kept her awake at night.

"I'd swap any day," she laughed, not particularly telling the truth.

"Sure you would. I've seen you looking at him, Bernadette. It's as if you're trying to figure something out. Do you like him?" They crossed the yard and Bernie had a think about it. However, she had to think quickly, otherwise Freddie would automatically take it as a yes and get all excited.

"Well...yes and no. I can't lie to you, Fred, you'd find out the truth anyway. I do think I might like him, but I'm not particularly ready to share a bed with him."

"No, I understand," he placed a hand over her shoulder as they entered the kitchen of the main house, "that's actually very wise of you. Most girls just follow him around and will try and get into his pants regardless of the time, place or audience. I can see you're not one of those girls, but please be careful, darling." He still had a grip of her opposite shoulder and she felt very consoled by his affection; Freddie just had that affect on people, whomever he met. And something niggling inside of her told her that he was aware of what had happened between herself and Holden....somehow.

"I will, Fred." Putting tea bags into nine different mugs, she thought about it for a moment. Yes, she did have to be careful, and no, she wasn't a follower. It was true she had followed, but not for the same reason all of Roger's other conquests did. It took three kettle fulls before all nine mugs were sufficiently full with piping hot tea. "Let me see if I can find a tray..." searching around, it seemed there were no trays anywhere. Until she stumbled across a skinny cupboard tucked away in the corner. She yanked at the handle and alo and behold, there were some trays!

"Delivery time," Freddie placed all the mugs on the tray and handed it to Bernie.

"Why me?" She asked, offended. She was the only woman here, was she now the designated skivvy?

"You've seen tapes of me falling over on stage, haven't you?" Huh, maybe she'd been too quick to make an assumption. Indeed, she had seen Queen's touring outtakes and Freddie did go clattering over wires, his own feet, Brian's feet and air an awful lot.

"Yes, maybe it's for the best then," and so they went back across the yard to the studio barn, each step one of supreme caution.

11/2/23