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Thank You	By : SweetChildDeath Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Placebo Views: 2691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Placebo. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Thank You
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Thank You
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Disclaimer:
No, I don't own Placebo, don't own Steve, don't own Brian, Don't own Dido's song "Thank-You". Too bad too...I wouldn't mind owning Bri and Stevie B. I don't own very much in this fic as far as characters are concearned, but that's the point of this disclaimer, huh..?

Shouts out to the All Uncompassing Chaa, and Homefry.

All 'Cebo ispirations come from you guys.

LOF!!

Rated uhm, somewhere around like PG13 or something for language.

Nothing really heavy, just sweetness and stuff. Vague Slashy-ness implied.

Meow.

Oh, and just so y'all know, Stevie's POV.

R&R!!

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"..And I'd like to thank you for giving me the best day of my life.."

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Brian had been moping around for nearly a week and a half by the time I decided I'd had quite enough. Not that he'd been doing much of anything to pester me in the first place, but that was just it, he wasn't doing anything. I quite literally could not remember the last time I had seen him emerge from the "cave" that was his room.

Now usually this sort of thing wouldn't have bothered me in the slightest due to the fact that the schedules that the both of us kept were quite peculiar to begin with. Also, since we had just returned home after several months of extensive touring, it was not unusual to have severe jetleg and want to sleep to all hours of the night and day. With that, I could definatly sympathize .

Keeping all that in mind, I thought nothing of Brian's abesence at first. I was quite used to waking up at some point during the day, to find Bri just creeping into the flat after having been out all night. But this was quite different, quite different altogether. Not only had I not caught even the barest of glimpses of Brian in days, but also it appeared that nothing in the flat had been disturbed by him. Being that Brian was who he was, I atleast expected to see something moved out of place, I mean Christ, even the crumpled pack of fags on the counter hadn't been moved even a centimeter.

This carried on for most the week, during which I braved the hall several times to boldly go where no--err most men have gone before, only to find that the little sod had locked the door. Brian never locks his door. I should know, I'm always barging in to his room uninvited, and then being shrieked at for never knocking. I always tell him that he should lock the door. It would figure, that the one time I actually need to talk with him, he up and locks the bloody door.

Well, atleast I can't say he never listens to me.
Not to be discouraged too easily, I'd pounded upon the door until recieving an acknowledging shriek from the other side. I couldn't exactly be too sure, but it sounded like somewhere, stuck between the string of profanity there was a " Go the bloody fuck away, Hewitt!" tacked in there. But like I said, I dn'dn't be too sure. It became a daily routine. Wake up, scour the flat for signs of life, knock on the Queen's door to make sure he wasn't dead, get screached at. Needless to say by the end of the first week I'd been able to add several very interesting phrases to my extensive mental catalouge of curses and insults. What can I say..? Brian's just good like that I suppose.
By the second Friday however, like stated earlier, I was getting just slightly miffed.
I had just finished leaving about the one-billionth message on Stef's answering machine ( He was out of town visiting some friends--Some Spanish bloke named Eduardo I believe ) when I decided that come hell or highwater, I was going to get Brian out of that damnable room of his. I also had hopes of getting him to talk to me, but considering just who I was dealing with, I told myself not to get overly ambitious.

Setting the phone on it's cradle, I turned, setting off in the direction of Brian's room. Ready to pound down the door if need be, I was quite surprised when the knob turned easily within my grasp. Even more so when the door actually swung open on it's hinges after I'd given it a soft nudge. It was dark inside the room, but I wouldn't have expected any less, after all... It did happen to be half nine in the evening,that and the fact that Brian had always had a flair for the dramatics. He liked sit in the dark when he got like this, claiming that the shadows were a representation of the darkness in his soul or some bollocks like that.

It took me a minute, my eyes had to adjust to the dark, but I finally spotted Brian. He was settled on the window-sill, peering intently out the glass as if the view were something a bit more interesting than cement buildings blanketed with snow and slushy streets dotted with cars . I didn't even think he'd noticed me slip in, but obviously he had due to the fact that after a moment he turned, pinning me with a weary glare. His voice was raspy when he spoke.

" Don't you ever knock..?"

" No... Bu' you ought to know tha' by now," I replied chipperly, almost annoyingly so. He gave me a sour look, his nose crinkling as his eyebrows dipped downward. I think I must've grinned as well because the look on his face only grew more sour, and he turned away to continue looking out the window. I even fancied I'd heard him hiss, but I couldn't quite tell.

"What do you want, Steven..?" He said after a minute.

" What do y'think I want, Brian..? " I countered as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed closest to the window. Folding my arms across my chest I watched him, waiting for him to give me some sort of explanation as to why he had been acting the way he had. I didn't get the enlightening response I had so been hoping for though, instead I got an idignant snort and that was followed by unforgiving silence.

This was going to be harder than I thought. Time for plan B, I suppose.

Slipping to a stand, I stepped over to the window, stepping over a dark lump of what I assumed was clothing, on the floor. Brian by this time had turned to see what I was doing, obvious query playing upon his face as I drew nearer.

"What..?" He asked flatly.

"Come on, let's go..I wanna show you somethin', " I said, extending a hand, meaning for him to take it. He did, but not after a long moment during which he simply stared suspiciously up at me.

" Go ge' some clean clothes on, go on an' hurry so we can leave. " I continued. And he, now glaring, shook his head adamantly.

" No, Steve. I am no' going out. It's too bloody cold, " He started, breaking away from me to cross both his arms about his chest. " Besides, I don' have anything t'wear. "

"I'll find you somethin' then," I said before proceeding to ransack his closet on the other side of the room. I didn't exactly know what I was planning, only that I wanted to be outside. Despite the cold, it was a rather lovely night. I guess a skirt was out of the question then, hmm...? Sifting through the mess of Brian's closet I pulled from it a pair of shiny red trousers, vinyl I think, and a soft gray sweater with a high neckline. Satisfied I tossed the two items across the room where they landed haphazardly on the bed beside a decidely amused looking Molks.

" Put those on. " I said, gesturing to the clothing with an upward nod of my head. Brian peered in the direction of the outfit I'd picked out and gave an approving nod.

" Not bad, Beanie...I guess you do have some fashion sense after all. Are you sure you're not gay..?"

Chuckling, I waved the comment off before wandering over to the door.

" Mmm, quite. Now hurry up, I'll be waiting in th'living room." I said, thankful that I'd gotten this far with him. Perhaps I'd be able to draw from him some sort of explanation after all..? It was pondering my next move I slipped out into the hall shutting the bedroom door behind me. I was almost tempted to break the knob off should he get the brilliant idea of locking the bugger again, but I didn't. Instead I opted for waiting by the flat's main door instead. But not before stopping in my own room to snatch up a sweater of my own, and pull the cable-corded blue thing over my head.

Fifteen minutes later, on the dot, Brian emerged. Clean clothes, hair brushed, and the faintest bit of make-up gracing his powdered face. I'd made the mistake of attacking his nose once while he was wearing make-ups, and let me tell you, foundation and the such does not at all taste very pleasant. Spinning 'round like a runway model, Brian peered over in my direction, hands tilted upward slightly to match the expression upon his face that asked "Well, what do you think..?". Of course it wouldn't do unless he said it as well, which of course he did after a moment.

" Acceptable..? "

I nodded.

" Maybe I should start calling you Mon Signor Beanie, give you some sort of fashion designer name, yea..? You could start your own clothing line. "

I grinned, shaking my head, laughing I pulled my jacket from the coat closet near the door.

" Nah, nobody in their right mind would wan' t'model for me. Well, except maybe you an' Stef. But you two aren't exactly in your right minds anyway.." I stated with a chuckle as I made to pull my arms through the sleaves of my very new, very expensive, nice black jacket. My very new, very expensive, nice black jacket that Brian just happened to be eyeing.

" Ste-eevie, " He whined. " I don' 'ave anything to wear, I lost my coat at the airport...I'm no' going unless I can wear yours."

Bastard. He knew what buttons to push, and despite the fact that I didn't trust him with it, this new expensive protective barrier from the wind that I had only worn a few times, the first when we shot the photos for the inside of the Black Market Music booklet, I resigned and handed it to him. Of course I eyed him suspiciouly the whole time, shooting menacing looks in his direction before rather comically I said:

" You had better not hurt her, Brian. I'll kill your best lippy if you hurt my baby."

" Mmm, sure, Steve. I'll be careful. " He said with a laugh before slipping it on, he latched himself to my arm.

"Well, aren't we going somewhere..? " He asked after a brief moment. Smiling I nodded. Pocketing the keys to the flat, I slipped out the door, Brian in tow, pausing just long enough to shut and lock the door before continuing down the corridor of the complex. Already I had some vague idea as to where I was going to bring him, all that was left, was to get there. With visions of bars and beer replaced by snow and ice I grinned. I knew exactly where we were going.

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To be continued..... DUN DUN DUN!
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