Blimey, I actually wrote something... and by something, I mean a silly little dialogue only drabble. Fun!

Title: Tom Is Dead.
Rating: PG
Pairing: FletchJones
Summary: How would you feel if people went around saying you were dead, hmm?
A/N: This was going to be a two-parter of sorts, then the second half got a life of it’s own (ahem) and a title and a completely different universe, so that’ll be posted later. First, the rather silly dialogue-only drabble where I take one look at the canon then catapult it out of the window… Danny sounds scarily like Vince Noir at points. *blames the BSH entirely*
Dedication: imagine___, for alerting me to the latest hilarious fandom quirk.


‘Tom! Guess what they’re saying about you now! It’s the best thing yet, I swear!’

‘And by ‘they’ you mean, who, exactly?’

‘The fans. Our fans. Except if they’re saying this I’m not really sure they could be fans, because that’d be just weird and I’m still kinda creeped out over the band fiction writing thing, cos god those girls are –’

‘Danny. Shut up and get back to point.’

‘What was that?’

‘What they are saying about me this time, apparently.’

‘Oh, right, yeah! Basically, you’re dead.’

‘… What?’

‘You make really cute expressions when you don’t know what to say, you know?’

‘Shut it. I’m dead?’

‘Yeah! Apparently, right, you died last December and we’ve put loads of clues in the CD covers and somehow even in our songs, and we’ve actually replaced you with someone who looks, talks, sings and plays the guitar exactly the same as you do! How amazingly would that be! It would be like we’d killed you and then cloned you or something, and we could have a whole army of Toms that would crush the world with the power of your fusion guitar lick, imagine that! But anyway, I digress…’

‘I can’t believe it.’

‘I know! How insane are they!’

‘No, that you just used ‘digress’ in the right context.’

‘Hey! I can use big words like ‘digress’ if I want!’

‘Although, digress isn’t actually all that big. About seven letters, really.’

‘That’s big for me!’

‘I think anything above six is too big for you. Letters, numbers, inches…’

‘Oi!’

‘What?’

‘You just – you, said that – you tried to…’

‘Insinuate something?’

‘Probably!’

‘No I didn’t.’

‘You did!’

‘I never. You don’t even know what it means, ha!’

‘Yeah, but I bet Harry does! I’ll make him tell me!’

‘He’s not talking to you.’

‘What! Why not?’

‘Because you keep asking him what big words mean, even after he bought you that dictionary and spent an hour highlighting everything you’d asked him so far so you won’t forget!’

‘Well, it made a better doorstop. And I remembered a few words…’

‘You just couldn’t be arsed to read it! And those were all the ones to do with sex, weren’t they?’

‘So?’

‘So… I’m dead, yeah?

‘Yeah.’

‘… Danny?’

‘What?’

‘Care for a little necrophilia?’

‘… Alright then.’

Fin.


you have no idea how much will power it took not to start mentioning dead parrots