FIC: Blind/sighted 2 of ?

[crabby-monkey.livejournal.com]

Rating : PG
Words: 770-ish
Summary: Wayne meets the keeper of the fruity goodness...

Wayne shook his head and sighed. “Man, none of us never knew! At least, I never did. And really, I should have.” He took the bottle from Greg’s hand. “You want another, man?”

“No more for me.” Greg smiled bitterly. “Too much to drink and it really plays hell with my navigating. How’s that for a kick in the pants, huh? All the time in the world to drink or use whatever the fuck I want… and I can’t because it makes me so loopy I couldn’t walk a straight line behind a walker. And after they approved my use of medical grade cannabis, too! Now isn’t that ironic?”

“That really sucks! I’ll just put the empties… umm… where should I put the empties?”

“There’s a bin under the sink, left side. Just because I can’t have another doesn’t mean you have to limit yourself.” Greg tracked Wayne’s progress with head cocked, listening. He nodded slightly to himself as he heard the * clink * of the bottles into the bin.

Wayne sat back down on the couch and curled one leg underneath to face Greg. “I can understand why you didn’t want anyone to know, but what do you do with yourself? Is anyone helping you?”

“I’ve got an assistant/secretary who reads my fan mail onto tape. Evelyn’s a bit prissy, so when I get a Braille mail, I make sure to read that first. I type my responses on the computer, and print them out – got a special font that duplicates my handwriting, so that helps a lot. Eve’s also in charge of the studio, mixing, recording, and hooking me up with whatever radio station wants an interview.”

(Eve? Never would have pictured him with a female assistant…)

Just then, the front door burst open. “Proopy, I’m home! Ooh, how lovely! You decided to let the sunshine in!” The voice was a warbling tenor, and the accent was vaguely British.

A vision in zebra-print silk shirt, tight black leather pants, black ascot and ankle boots breezed into the room. His light brown hair was perfectly done, and he reminded Wayne of the bitchiest member of the Queer Eye guys. He skidded to a stop in front of the couch, blinked, and then extended a rather limp hand to Wayne. “Helloooooo, sunshine! Come to beard old grouchy pants in his den, hmmm?”

Greg snorted. “Wayne Brady, Evelyn Montague. Eve, Wayne. Wayne and I used to work together.”

Evelyn smiled at Wayne. “And he actually let you in! I’m impressed – he usually doesn’t stir from a funk. What did you do, threaten him with bagpipes?” At Greg’s snort, Eve nudged Wayne in the side. “I actually had to do that once, when we were still in the ‘getting to know you’ phase of our relationship.” He preened, flicking a bit of imaginary fluff off his collar. “Really, I thought ‘The Good Ship Lollipop’ was the perfect tune to play on the pipes… but after the third chorus, he flung the door open and all but dragged me in!”

Wayne couldn’t help it. The picture conjured up by the assistant was just too funny to keep inside. He fell off the couch giggling, and as he applauded, Eve curtsied.

Greg shot a dirty look at both of them that managed to just barely miss withering. “If you’ve gotten that out of your system, why don’t you give Wayne the grand tour?” He winced and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Eve became all business and handed Greg a pill. “Water?”

“Yeah.”

Eve hurried out and came back with a tall glass of water. “Bad one?”

“Hmm.”

Wayne looked from one to the other. The comedian was definitely paler than before, and Eve was all business checking his pulse. “Maybe I should go and come back another day?”

Greg shook off Eve’s hand and reached out to Wayne. “Don’t go. Let Eve give you the tour, get all your questions out, and don’t worry about me.” He winced briefly. “I’ll be okay if I just lay down for a while.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes! Now go and leave me alone until that kicks in!” Greg got up unsteadily and headed toward the darker portion of the apartment.

Wayne started to go after him, but Eve put out a hand to stop him. “Don’t. He’ll be all right in about an hour or so. Best thing you can do is not take any notice of him while he’s feeling this way. Come along, His Royal Pain-ness has decreed that you shall have the tour of this dark kingdom, and tour you shall have!”