it's clear to me now that i'm suffering some kind of fannish schizophrenia disociative identity disorder. just as soon as i finally wade into queer as folk fandom for real, i turn around and spend the whole morning writing bruno and boots slash.

this one is for glockgal, who is part of my committee coalition, no matter what fandom. if you've never read beware the fish by gordon korman, this little ditty will probably make absolutely no sense to you. if you know anyone who's read beware the fish, send them my way? glockgal and i have prior experience in being a fandom of three, but that's not to say we wouldn't love a little company.



bruno/boots. not betaed because i couldn't think of anyone to beta it. missing scene from the end of beware the fish, right after they bury elmer's video equipment in the sand pit. plays a little fast and loose with canon, but there was enough going on that maybe nobody would have time to notice that boots had a broken bed.

Boots opened the door in two short, careful movements, still automatically overcompensating for the creaky hinge on the door to room 306, even though room 201 had been their home now for almost a school year. Still two steps behind and in the dark, Boots forgot all about the bed blocking the doorway.

"Ouch!" he said, his shins meeting the bed frame in an all-too-familiar collision. He tripped forward and put out a hand to brace himself against the mattress, but the mattress that had caught his fall every night since they moved into 201 wasn't where it was supposed to be. He fell face-first into the sunken frame, meeting the mattress where it sagged against the floor.

"What's the holdup?" Bruno hissed from the doorframe. "Watch it, you're going to wake up Coach Flynn!"

"I think my bed's broken," Boots said, attempting to push himself up. The cracking noise he heard underneath him seemed to suggest he was only making matters worse.

"Here, give me your hand," Bruno said, and he hauled Boots back up to a standing position. He swiftly closed the door behind him and flicked on the light switch. Together, they surveyed the damage.

"Bruno," Boots said, panicked, "my bed's broken!"

Bruno put a hand on Boot's shoulder, nodding firmly as though he were a used car salesman and the bed was a jalopy that Boots was having second thoughts about buying. "Yep," he said. "I meant to tell you, we were in such a hurry to get Elmer's stuff out to the sand pit, Sidney had a little --"

"--accident," they said together in unison. "Bruno! You let Sidney break my bed!"

"Hey," Bruno said, spreading his palms between them, "In all fairness, Sidney said the bed hit him first."

Boots had his doubts, but Sidney Rampulsky's accidents were like acts of nature. There was nothing to be done but pick up the pieces. "So where am I going to sleep, hmm?" he asked, because act of nature or not, it was two in the morning. At least hurricane victims had the Red Cross.

Bruno walked over to his dresser, newly accessible after the emergency video equipment disposal. "The Hall's not to so broke that they're going to make you sleep on the floor," he said. "There's plenty of extra beds. Dormitory 3 has a whole pile of 'em! You'll have to wait until tomorrow, though," he added thoughtfully, "we can't exactly tell Coach Flynn your bed broke itself in the middle of the night."

Boots navigated around the wreckage toward his own bureau and said, "Yeah, but where am I going to sleep tonight?" in the direction of Bruno's back as his roommate tugged on a pair of safari-print pajamas. He glanced at bed of their absent third and added, "I guess I could sleep in Elmer's bed for tonight, they're not coming back from the fieldtrip until tomorrow, right?"

Bruno turned around just as Boots was reaching for his own pajamas and said, as sheepish as Bruno Walton ever sounded about anything, "Did I mention that Sidney also had a little altercation with the ant farm?"

"Aww, Bruno, come on!" Boots shouted, not caring whether he woke Coach Flynn up or not. "I go along with your crazy plans, I really do. I sneak out after lights out, even though if we get caught one more time we're gonna get expelled, I help you bury Elmer's entire life in the sandpit and all I ask is that I have a bed to sleep in for a couple hours before I wake up and deal with whatever trouble you've gotten us into the next day! Is that too much to ask? Is it?"

Bruno walked over to face him, which in their cramped room only took about a half a step. He put his hands on Boots' shoulders and pushed him over to the bed against the wall. Bruno's bed. "Lie down," he said.

Boots sat down obediently. "But where are you going to sleep?" he asked, confused. His outburst had left him feeling even more exhausted than before.

Bruno shut off the light, so his answer came through the darkness and closer than Boots expected. "Shove over," he said. Boots thought about saying something about whether this was Bruno's brilliant plan, the two of them sharing the bed, but it was almost three in the morning and he could feel Bruno's shoulder brushing against his own, so he shoved over.

It wasn't so bad, really. It was almost like camping, that time Coach Flynn had taken them out and they'd almost died and they'd had to huddle together in the tent for warmth. Boots thought this would be a high time for Cathy to show up, she'd probably scream like nobody's business.

"Do you want to go visit Diane and Cathy?" Boots asked before he could stop himself.

"Why?" Bruno asked. "She probably thinks we're still mad at her about the flying fish."

"Yeah," Boots said. "Probably."

After another couple minutes, the silence becomes unbearable again and Boots said, "Bruno?" He didn't answer, but Boots knew that he wasn't asleep yet, because Bruno always made little whistling sounds when he was sleeping. Not snores. Just little whistles. "Bruno?" he said again, "are you scared?"

"Can't a guy get any sleep around here?" Bruno grumbled. "Scared of what?" he asked.

Boots felt a little foolish, but since he'd already said it, he continued. "Scared that the Hall's going to close?"

Bruno scoffed. "The Hall's not going to close!" he said. "We've got the entire Rankin Book of World Records left! We've got Elmer Dynamicdale and the Scrim-band! We've got Scrimmage's shotgun! Everything's going to be just fine."

Boots sighed. He should have known, even in the middle of the night, Bruno would be ready with the rallying cry. "Bruno, come on," he said. "What if none of that stuff works?"

"So we'll go somewhere else," Bruno said, "it won't be so bad."

"Bruno, your parents live in Vancouver. If you're not at the Hall, they'll want you closer to home, and my parents will have me at York Academy just like my Dad always wanted, and we'll never see each other again, and --"

"Melvin," Bruno interrupted, "listen very carefully." He leaned towards Boots, one hand cupped around his mouth like a megaphone against Boots' ear. "This is the Fish Patrol. The Fish Patrol has decided that activities cannot continue unless a certain someone gets some sleep and stops worrying, because the Fish Patrol is going to fight until the bitter end. We cannot be disbanded! Beware the Fish!"

And then he leaned over a little bit further and kissed him.

Boots sputtered into Bruno's mouth at first, but he wasn't that big of an idiot, he'd kissed before. He'd kissed Diane three times, after the last three McDonald Hall/Miss Scrimmage's dances, which was a lot like saying that since he'd seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, he was a perfect candidate for first astronaut to land on Mars. But it was three in the morning and his bed was broken, and everything was falling apart, it was McDonald Hall's darkest hour and -- he was starting to sound a lot like Bruno.

After a short lifetime or thirty seconds, Bruno pulled away, but left his forehead awkwardly pressed against Boots'. "See?" he said, as though this had been just another one of his crazy plans. "The world didn't end, did it?"

Boots shook his head. Bruno flopped back down on his half of the pillow, but Boots could still feel their shoulders touching. He didn't move away.

"Get some sleep, okay?" Bruno said, "We've got a big day tomorrow."

"What's going to happen tomorrow?"

"Who knows?" Bruno said, burrowing down into the pillow, "that's why we have to make every minute between now and eight-forty-five count."