rinney/brance oneshots

brance- edith piaf

Anger management is a fuckin joke. Vance would never be caught dead here - he doesn't have a god damn anger problem, okay? Sure he's violent and curses more than a sailor in a bar fight, but that's just what living in Denver would do to any sane person. Just cause some idiot judge tells him to go doesn't mean he will. Only Bruce said if he didn't go he wouldn't be able to get a hummer for months. So he goes.

On one of many let's-eat-donuts-and-drink-coffee-like-fuckin-police-officers breaks, Vance sneaks outside for a smoke. A blond girl he recognizes from the group smiles at him.

"Court ordered?" she asks, grinning at him and holding out a joint.

He takes a hit, grateful.

"Yeah. I wasn't gonna come but-"

"But your girlfriend made you," she finishes for him.

"Boyfriend, actually," he grimaces, the words still foreign on his tongue. "But yeah. Why you here?"

"Slammed my bitch mother's head into a table. She threatened to kick me out if I didn't come and I'm dead ass broke."

"Yeah? You learn anything useful in this shithole?" Vance is starting to feel lighter, happier. Her weed is actually pretty good.

"Music," she grins.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Music," she repeats, even though it made no fuckin sense the first time. "I listen to music when I get angry and it calms me down."

"Oh yeah?" Vance replies, hands starting to grow numb from the cold. "And what magical music do you listen to?"

"Edith Piaf."

Vance has no idea who or what Edith Piaf is. He's never been very into music - that's like some kind of dumbass faux pas or something but he doesn't really give a shit. Still, as he climbs on the bus on his way home, he needs something to drown out the crazy bitch yelling at the bus driver in Spanish or Italian or some other useless European language. He plugs in his headphones but his music library only has Beyonce and Cher - some stupid joke that Veronica played on him years ago and he was too lazy to delete. He's gay but he's not like gay gay.

He opens up Spotify and types in Edith Piaf. It takes him a while to get the spelling right. He hits the top track and blasts it. The lyrics are all in French and it's weird and old-timey and super fucking girly. He closes his eyes and listens anyway.

******

When he gets home, Veronica and Bruce are lying on the floor and laughing like idiots.

"What's so fuckin funny?" he asks when they laugh even harder once they see him.

"V," Ian gasps through his giggles, "you know your Spotify stuff is, like, public right? It all posts on Facebook. Everyone can see it."

"And?"

"And," Veronica laughs, "you were listening to French music for an hour and a half."

"Oh God," Bruce gasps, "I've turned you into a fairy."

"Shut the fuck up, both of ya."

—————

Vance wakes up at 3 AM, freezing cold. The blankets have been pushed off of the bed and Bruce's not there. He sleepwalks sometimes, and Vance stands up, groaning, to look for him.

The house is dark except for the kitchen, where Veronica strung up some Christmas lights a week ago. They're plugged in now, casting a dim glow over Bruce. He's making an omelet, humming and swaying slightly as he cooks. Vance realizes that there's music playing faintly, so quiet he didn't notice at first.

"What are listening to?"

Bruce startles and turns around, trying to shove his phone into his pocket. Vance grabs it before he can, looking at the screen and recognizing the vintage cover art. Brance's been listening to Edith Piaf.

"No way," Vance chuckles. "I've turned you into a fairy."

"Oh shut up," Bruce snaps, snatching the phone back and turning the music up.

Vance grabs his hands, smiling as Bruce leans his head against his shoulder. The sway there together, not really dancing but doing something pretty close.

The omelet burns. Neither of them really cares.

With eyes which make mine lower,
A smile which is lost on his lips,
That's the unembellished portrait
Of the man to whom I belong.

When he takes me in his arms
He speaks to me in a low voice,
I see life as if it were rose-tinted.

He whispers words to declare to me his love
Words of the everyday
And that does something to me.

He has entered into my heart
A piece of happiness
the cause of which I know full well.

It's him for me, me for him in life
He said that to me, swore to me "forever".

And as soon as I see him
So I feel in me
My heart which beats

May the nights on which we make love never end,
A great joy which takes its place
The trouble, the grief are removed
Content, content to die of it

When he takes me in his arms
He speaks to me in a very low voice,
I see life as if it were rose-tinted.

He whispers words to declare to me his love
Words of the everyday
And that does something to me.

He has entered into my heart
A piece of happiness
the cause of which I recognise.

It's him for me, me for him in life
He said that to me, swore to me forever.

And as soon as I see him
So do I feel in me
My heart which beats