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

How the Other Half Lives: The Uninvited

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat.

Wes Adams looked up from his phone. He had just sat down for a late, nutritious breakfast of strawberry Pop Tarts and chocolate milk when the knocks came pounding at his door. The night before had been extremely draining on his strength, so he was moving pretty slow this morning. Or should we say, this afternoon; he woke up at half past twelve, which was about an hour ago- and the most productive thing he had done since opening his eyes was let the dogs out.

Am I expecting anyone today? he asked himself. In case memory had decided to fail him, he checked his phone's calendar. There he found an entry regarding Danny's program that evening, put there no doubt by his daughter to make sure he didn't forget to pick her up from her mom's house and drive all the way back up to New York, so she could watch her friend stand on a stage and hold a stick. 

Wes didn't mind all that much though.  On one hand, he hated putting so many miles on the Tesla, especially on the weekend when he preferred to give his fickle metal monster a break from five days' worth of stop-and-go Manhattan traffic.  However, when your daughter wants to support a neighborhood pal who's not only the child of a woman you've got a quiet little yen for, but is also directly connected with a legendary, dead (that is, until recently) rock star, you're willing to make a few concessions.

Outside of that, though, there was nothing else he absolutely had to do today, and no one he needed (or wanted) to see.  And still the fist kept rapping.

Maybe it's that same dyslexic UPS guy, he chuckled to himself.  That would make this three Decembers in a row if it is.  How many times will I have to tell him the difference between 453 and 435 before we're thr-

Then it hit him, and he nearly spit out a mouthful of frosted toaster pastry.  "Oh my God,"he gasped.  "Ri- uh, Freddie!"

Pulling on his robe, Wes scrambled to the front.  As excited as he was, though, he knew better than to just throw the door open without a quick window check.  Outside he saw an unfamiliar car- black, not yellow like that gorgeous set of wheels Mr. Mercury had to tote him around in, and not silver like Preus's Benz. Julia had also warned him of big white vans, as that seemed to be the lab rats' vehicle of choice- so the visitor did not seem any immediate threat just yet.

At least, not till Wes opened the door- and he saw the two men standing there. Under any other circumstances, Wes would have been bouncing off the walls at being in the same room with these chaps. But all the last week's excitement, coupled with seeing them yesterday as well, had siphoned a good deal of their star power away, and right now all he saw were two nosy, old English guys with nothing better to do but pester him on his day off... again.

"Good morning," Roger greeted him.  "We're not interrupting anything important, are we?"

Wes chewed his upper lip irritably. "Not really, just my breakfast."

Brian looked apologetic.  "Sorry for that.  We won't be long at all."

"You got that right.  What are you doing here anyway?"

"Got a few more questions," Roger replied.

"If you have the time, of course," Brian added quickly.  "We really don't mean to impose."

The formerly blond drummer glared at his counterpart.  "Speak for yourself."

"How did you even find out where I live?" Wes asked.

Brian shrugged.  "Your employer is a very obliging fellow, it seems."

Wes tried not to roll his eyes. Wow.  Thanks, Mean Joe Schmoe. "Guys- look, not to belittle whatever your motivation is here, but I told you all I know about Rick yesterday, okay?  Nothing has changed since twenty-four hours ago. Swear to God. Haven't seen him, haven't talked to him, so I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing-"