26 Fics in 26 Minutes

A story for a song by a band starting with every letter of the alphabet. Ranging from angst to fluff to humour to porn to general whimsy. Encompassing Boosh, RPS, Nathan Barley, Robots in Disguise, and Asylum, and probably a few other things too.

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Otis Lee Crenshaw – Women Call It Stalking

Otis Lee Crenshaw – Women Call It Stalking

“Rich?”

Shitty shitty fuck. He pulled his hat further down and the collar of his jacket further up, but it was no good, Matt had already seen him. He looked around blindly for an exit, but it was… fuck. It was behind Matt. Not his day.

“Rich, it is you. What are you doing hanging around in this dark corner?” Matt stood in front of him in a suit – why always a suit with this guy? – one arm on the wall, blocking his way out.

Rich tilted his hat back. “Matt. Wow. What are you doing here?”

“Well, this place is just on the corner by my flat. I always get a coffee from here in the mornings, I… may have mentioned it at some point.” His voice started to falter as he took in Rich’s faux-PI outfit. “Were you looking for me?”

“No!” Rich yelped. “No no no. I was, uh, I was just passing, and I thought, hey, coffee! And then, you know, I couldn’t choose from all these weird kinds and I thought, I’ll just sit in the corner behind my newspaper and, yeah, pick one. Think about it carefully.”

Matt looked round at the blackboard with the three different types of coffee written on it. “You were… just passing?”

“Uh huh.”

“Where to?”

“To… the… park. Yeah, I like to feed those ducks.”

Matt smiled uncertainly, looking down at Rich’s paper, which was all he was carrying. “With what, exactly?”

“I thought… pastries! I was gonna buy a pastry, crumble it up, feed it to ‘em. They love French food, you know, croissants, pain au chocolat, that sort of thing. Probably something to do with… foie gras?”

Matt licked his top lip quickly, left to right, and cleared his throat. Rich tried not to stare. “Are you following me?”

“What?” Rich managed a fake, high-pitched laugh. “What are you talking about? I just like coffee!”

“I’m sure you do, but, well, I was at a restaurant last night with a friend, and I thought… I thought I kept seeing you at another table. At the back.” Matt’s tone is teasing rather than angry, but Rich starts to feel uncomfortably warm anyway.

“I was busy last night. CSI was on, you know how I love my cop shows.”

“And last week, someone kept ringing my home phone, hanging up without saying anything.”

“Probably a wrong number. Did I mention how my phone is out of order?”

“Right.” Matt looked down for a moment, speaking quietly. “Rich. I’m going to go over to my table and pick up my coffee, and go back to my flat. You are welcome to join me. If, however, you’d rather, say, stand in the phone box on the corner and ring me without saying anything, that is of course your choice.” He raised his eyes and tried to hold a straight face. “If you want, I will buy you a pastry.”

Rich pretended to consider it for a fraction of a second. “Well, those ducks were getting kinda fat anyway. Wouldn’t want ‘em to sink.”

“Absolutely.” Matt turned to walk back to his table, and Rich followed, heart pounding.