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25 March 2011 @ 01:17 pm
Fic: On the Hunt  

Title: On the Hunt
Specs: Miranda, Miranda/Gary, 1800 words
Rating: PG
Summary: The story of how Miranda and Gary first met.


Most Friday nights I prefer to stay in.  I come up with the most marvelous activities that are in no way sad or pathetic.  Last Friday I thrust all of my spoons (wonderful word, that, thruuuuuust) into a cake and made a very small Stonehenge.  Quite amusing.  But this Friday Stevie insisted I go with her to a club.

There are two sorts of clubs.  In one sort, there's a stage which one can ascend to sing and dance, perhaps believing for a short while that one is a genuine, bona-fide pop sensation.  In the other sort, there is no such stage.  I of course prefer the former sort of club, but in the absence of a stage it's quite easy to sing anyway.  A greater volume is required to overcome the music, which in the latter sort of club can become rather deafening.  And the club-goers are less likely to sit and listen.  But they can't exactly kick you out just for singing (except for that one time they did) and it does liven up the evening.

So here we are, in the latter sort of club, and though I'm in the mood to belt out “Piano Man,” thus far the music, a ragged kind of assortment of techno beats, has not obliged me.  I've got a drink with many umbrellas, and so far I've only been approached twice.  Both times, it's the same scenario.  A look at my face, and then a sweep down my body and back up to my face, as though to check on whether I'm a man or a woman.  Sometimes the face isn't enough, so there's a quick peek at my tits.  Face, body, face, tits.  (Sounds like a naughty nursery rhyme – head, shoulders, knees and tits, knees and tits.)  The scenario doesn't bother me too much; I'm used to it.  And as long as the man in question finally settles on “woman” we're just as right as rain.

This man walks up to me.  Not just a man – a scruffy angel of a man.  Quite possibly the most handsome man I've ever seen.  And he's looking right at me, and he's smiling, and there's no sweep down, no checking to see if I've got girl parts.  Is this a man?  Maybe he's a supernatural being of some sort.  A fairy, but not the gay kind.  At least I hope not.

“Hi!” he says brightly, and the place where I used to have knees feels sort of weak. 

“Hi, yes.  Hi.  Indeed.”  Babbling, Miranda, you're babbling.

“I'm Gary.”  He sticks out his hand, but I can't imagine why.  Why would someone stick out their hand?  I've seen people do this before but if there's a reason for it I can no longer remember it.  I stroke the back of his hand with my fingertips.  His smile flickers a bit, and then it's just as big and bright as before again.  “And you are?”

Oh, no.  He didn't do the sweep.  He's not sure.  I suppose asking straight out is perhaps more polite than the sweep.  Being up front and all.  “I'm a woman,” I tell him, and then I stroke the back of his hand again.

“That’s your name, then?  Awoman?”  He’s not smiling anymore – he’s grinning.  But now I understand what he was asking me – and he wanted to shake my hand, of course! – but it’s too late now.

“Yes.  Awoman.  One of the more popular Swedish names.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a Swede.”

“There’s two types of Swedes.”  I pause, go for a drink, dodge the umbrellas, finally find the straw.  “There’s the popular tall, thin, blonde Swede, of course, and then the lesser-known solid brunette Swede.”  Gary’s laughing, actually leaning on the bar right next to me, and he’s close enough to smell.  He smells like a delicious pie, if pies were made out of men and not fruit or pudding.  “I’m the former type of Swede, obviously.”

“Obviously.  Tall, I see that.”

“I dye the hair.  It’s too stunning otherwise.”

“Sure, sure.”

“This is all just padding.”

“Quite nice padding at that.”  Wait, what?  What was that?  Did this gorgeous specimen of a man just compliment my padding?  I smile, very sultry, and without ever taking my eyes off his I lean in for another drink.  It’s seductive, that move.  The straw gouges right into my cheek and I’m nearly blinded by an umbrella.  Gary laughs, but it’s a quick, kind of embarrassed laugh, and then he’s patting my shoulder.  “Are you all right, Awoman?”

“It’s Miranda.”

“Straws are deadly, Miranda.  You should be careful.”

“But you saw?  You saw the way it came after me?”

“I did!  Predatory, like.”

“Cheeky straw.”

“So,” Gary drawls, and he’s leaning a little bit closer, “I think it’s best to be on the up and up with you.  I’m doing a scavenger hunt, and one of the items I need is a girl’s number.  Came in here, and decided I wanted the number of a girl I’d actually call.”

I point to the gyrating dancers.  “Did you want me to forge you a path to the girls, then?”

“Write your number down!  But it’s got to be on a cocktail napkin, with the name of the club on it.”

“Strict hunt.”

“Very.”  I scan the bar for a napkin, but of course there aren’t any.  How can there be no napkins?  Not one minute ago I spilled all sorts of drink everywhere, rogue umbrellas lying about, it’s like a mini-tropical disaster right here on the bar, and there are no napkins.  Napkins!  I need napkins!

“Napkins!  I need napkins!” I shout, and the bartender sullenly hands me one.  Ten minutes ago I thought the bartender was a decent catch, but now, compared to Gary, heavenly, perfect Gary, the bartender looks like an utter troll.  But he has given me a napkin, so if he is a troll, he’s some sort of secretly-kind, loves-humans, probably-cries-at-commercials troll.

Here I stand with pen and napkin, and the only thing flitting through my brain is the crystal-clear mental image of Gary using his bare chest to clean up the spilled drink.  I realize I’m just standing there, pen hovering, staring at Gary.

“Your number.”

“What is my number, Gary?” I whisper.  Surely he knows, because I’ve not a clue. 

Gary’s laughing again, hand on his stomach.  “You don’t know your number?”

“Why should I need to know my number?  I don’t call myself.  I’m never at home thinking, say, Miranda, I wonder if you’d like to go do something?  I’m already there, you see.”  And then, out of the haze and the flashing lights and the throng of fit, dancing bodies comes a tiny, tiny blonde angel.  Stevie’s heading my way, and I grab her like I’m drowning and she’s a tiny, tiny blonde life preserver.

“Stevie!  What is my number!”  Stevie looks at me, then looks at Gary.  Looks at me, looks at Gary.  Looks at me, looks at Gary.  “Stevie!”

“So this is what you’ve done today…” she says.  I grab her elbow and pinch the skin just above it.  “Ow, Miranda--!”

“My number.”  Stevie glares at me, then writes my number down on the napkin.  I smile winningly at Gary, who’s watching the two of us as though we’re hilarious comediennes on a hit television show.  “Stevie’s my best mate,” I tell him.  “We do everything together.  Practically attached at the hip.”

“Miranda, I was hoping--” Stevie starts, but I don’t need her anymore, so I put a hand on her head and push her away.  She of course collapses onto the floor since she weighs all of six stone, and Gary’s looking down as though he’s not sure if what just happened is real and, if so, if he should help Stevie up.

“There you are,” I say, handing him the napkin with a flourish.  “My numbers.  My…numeros.  The numeros of moi.”  I stop myself before I start chanting each individual numero in some awful polyglot mix of French, Spanish, and what I think is either French or Spanish.

“You know,” Gary says, carefully tucking the napkin into his wallet, “my mate just sprained his ankle vaulting over a hedgerow.  We had to get a garden gnome.”

“That’s awful.”

“A tragic accident.”

“Did you hold his hand manfully and help him through the pain?”

“Of course.  Comrades in arms.  Brothers in the foxhole.”  I’m not sure where Gary is going with this.  He should probably get moving.  Suddenly it has become very important to me that Gary win this scavenger hunt.  He should win everything.  The world should probably just give him trophies every day for existing.  “It was a pretty bad sprain, so he grabbed a cab and went home.”

“That’s too bad.”  Gary!  You’re going to lose!  But I want him to keep talking to me.  I haven’t faced such a difficult and seemingly impossible dilemma since the time I had to decide whether to keep eating cake or save the cake so that I might have cake to eat the next day.

“And it’s really no fun doing a scavenger hunt by yourself,” he says.

“No, it would be like…”  And I can’t think of another example of something that would be no fun to do by yourself, since I have loads of fun doing things by myself all the time.  “There’s nothing it’s like,” I finally settle on.  “It’s the worst.  Doing a scavenger hunt by yourself is the worst.”

“The worst, definitely the worst.”

“Fighting a war?  Not as bad.”

“Nuclear apocalypse?  All in a day’s work.”

“The sun explodes?”  Ha!  He’s not going to be able to top that one.  “Easy peasy.”

“So you want to come scavenge with me?”  I’ve read before about someone’s heart skipping a beat, and I always just assumed it was a romantic metaphor.  But my heart has definitely skipped a beat, several beats.  It’s just a big lumpy lump in the middle of my chest.  Surely I’ve misheard him.  The last item on his list is probably “enormous woman,” and he’s asking if he can cart me out.  “Miranda?”

“You want me to go on the scavenger hunt with you?”

“Yeah!  It’ll be fun!”  Fun.  Gary doesn’t even know what fun is.  No one in the world has ever had fun before me, this very instant, about to go off and do a scavenger hunt with Gary, grand, gregarious Gary.  I am inventing fun at this moment.

“Of course!  Let’s go!  We’ve already wasted too much time!”  And then we’re shoving off through the crowd, the lights and music cascading down as if to celebrate my moment of triumph.  We’re about halfway to the door when Gary reaches down and takes my hand.       


Tags: ,
singer_shaper: wheredeyatsinger_shaper on March 25th, 2011 09:22 pm (UTC)
You wrote my prompt! *see happy icon*

This is such a fun story. I love all the little Miranda-touches: the Stonehenge spoon sculpture (thruuust), Stevie's begining the "what have you done today" mantra, Miranda shoving of Stevie, Miranda's nervous babbling (when you get nervous socially, you end up lying to impress). But I also like that Gary seems to get Miranda right away, and that she might be what he's looking for because he's searching for something genuine.

Thank you so much!
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:16 pm (UTC)
Aw, you're welcome! I'm glad you left the prompt - I had a lot of fun writing it. And I'm already thinking about a sequel!
a universal sigh: Miranda - Miranda/Gary - hugnaushika on March 25th, 2011 10:21 pm (UTC)
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:17 pm (UTC)

S: Miranda | Miranda/Gary sittingbeyondthepen on March 25th, 2011 10:39 pm (UTC)
This is great, Shannon! You really have the Miranda POV downpat! :D
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:17 pm (UTC)
scribblesandshorts.blogspot.com on March 26th, 2011 02:14 am (UTC)
I was expecting a "to make you feel proud" after what Stevie said. XD Completely awesome.
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:18 pm (UTC)
LOL, yeah, I'm thinking now that Stevie could have kept on it and that's when Miranda knocks her to the floor. I might sneak it in if (when?) I maybe turn this into a spec script.
ghanima sun: mirandaghanimasun on March 26th, 2011 03:44 am (UTC)
You. are. perfection.

I laughed the whole way through this fic. You've captured Miranda's inner monologue and tendency to go on too much perfectly. I can definitely see her saying every line here.

Also I really like that you have Gary approaching her and obviously liking her from the start. I think it's very subtle in the show but I think he definitely likes her a lot, but he's often holding it back a bit until they're both more ready for it.

Anyway you've done this marvelously and it all feels perfectly in character. You should definitely write more Miranda fic. I haven't been able to find any other fic for this show and it definitely deserves it. And you've shown how well you understand the character of Miranda (as we all do, but you've done it in a fic, which perhaps most of us can't do).
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:21 pm (UTC)
Aw, thank you. I just adore her character so much - if a lot of people say they feel like Liz Lemon, well, I definitely feel like Miranda.

And I agree - I think Gary's pretty smitten with her even if he doesn't always know it. I can definitely see him being drawn to her right away, but maybe just telling himself they'll be friends because she doesn't look the way the girls men are "supposed" to be attracted to look.

Depending on how busy this upcoming week is, I think I'm definitely going to write some more. (And is there seriously no Miranda fic comms? That's weird.)
ghanima sunghanimasun on March 27th, 2011 09:26 pm (UTC)
I would love to read a sequel to this!

And sadly I have only found one Miranda comm at all and there wasn't any fic on it, unfortunately.
Martine: PD/Emerson shovella_loony on March 26th, 2011 08:47 pm (UTC)
This is th most adorable fic I've EVER read!

Love it so much, really great written, I could see everything happening on the show...now I want to watch it againxD
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:21 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Yeah, I'm going to try and tough it out a little bit longer before I do a full rewatch. I can't wait for the third season!
Martine: Fantastic Four/Johnnyla_loony on March 26th, 2011 09:29 pm (UTC)
I have to wait at least until I'm back at my placeXD

Do you know when the third season will air?
Shannon: drh cantkungfuwaynewho on March 26th, 2011 09:30 pm (UTC)
I don't know for sure - I think they're hoping for later this year? Maybe fall or something. Which is tooooo looooong.
Lauren Janet: russel/noelljismahname on March 29th, 2011 06:46 am (UTC)
I saw a link to this on tumblr so I decided to read and I'm so glad I did because it is lovely! I love the scenario and you got everyone's characters down PERFECTLY. Very cute ♥
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on March 29th, 2011 03:15 pm (UTC)
Aw, thanks! ♥
kitnkabootle: F and S - Squishy Faceskitnkabootle on September 29th, 2011 06:57 am (UTC)
I can't believe this fic. I am sitting here stunned. Or I was, the first time I've read it (this makes read number three). Your talent is exceptional. You embody Miranda as you write this so cleverly from her perspective.

I can see every aside to the camera... it feels like I'm watching an episode of the show itself. This is not an easy task and something that fanfic writers (including myself) struggle with. Finding the voice of the subject. You did this as though you were born to do it.

This was a delicious read and you've impressed me beyond belief. I hope you don't mind that I rec'd on my journal with a fan video I made. More people need to read this :D :D
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on September 30th, 2011 02:02 pm (UTC)
Aw, thank you so much! What a lovely comment. ♥ (And of course I don't mind recs! Eee!)

One of these days I will get around to making a fanfic master post, but in the meantime, the sequel to this story (and thus the end of my Miranda fic, LOL), is here, if you're interested. And thanks again for reading!
dunderklumpen: Stock_Fangirldunderklumpen on October 8th, 2012 05:08 am (UTC)
Marry me and get my babies!

OMG, that's great, great great!!11!1 I absolutely loved it. The characters were spot on and you managed to capture the pace and humour of the series. I'm really impressed!

I first watched "Miranda" two weeks ago and I'm a little late in the game but since then I'm desperately looking for some fic. And now I found this little jewel. Really fabulous story!

I though I comment anyway although you wrote it already back in march.

Me finding this story (and there is a sequel! *squee*) is perfect timing. I'm currently participating in the "Happy October Swap" and there are two kind souls who offered to record some podfic for me. Any chance I could give them a link to this story and/or the sequel? Or if they don't want I would love to do it myself - although I will certainly have an accent. No problem in the podfic world but maybe you don't like that. Anyway... I officially ask you now for permission to record the "Scavenger Hunt" series;)

Btw if you don't want to give permission - no matter why - I still love you to death for writing that!
Shannon: miranda stagekungfuwaynewho on October 10th, 2012 12:16 am (UTC)
Aw, thank you! One of my secret joys in life is getting a comment on an old entry, just a total and unexpected surprise. This absolutely made my day, so thank you so much.

I would be extremely flattered to have a podfic recorded! As long as it's credited and all that, and I get a link when it's all said and done. :DDD
dunderklumpen: Castle_Beckett pustet Blütenblätter (anidunderklumpen on October 10th, 2012 12:56 am (UTC)
Of course. If it's recorded and finished - no matter if by me or by my October Swap partner - I'll send you the link to the entry.

profshallownessprofshallowness on October 27th, 2012 01:46 pm (UTC)
Oh, this made me hoot with delight and recognition. Well done!
Shannon: miranda gary pillowkungfuwaynewho on November 3rd, 2012 04:12 pm (UTC)
Aw, thank you so much! It's always such a treat to get a comment on an older story, especially for such a tiny, obscure fandom.
karomeledkaromeled on November 7th, 2012 09:38 pm (UTC)
This is such a funny story! Very in character. I love how you make it sound like an actual episode.
treblebethtreblebeth on December 6th, 2013 09:08 pm (UTC)
I just saw this on a rec list somewhere and I'm so glad I did because it's ADORABLE.
Shannonkungfuwaynewho on December 9th, 2013 02:27 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! (And it's sad how tickled I am that a fic I wrote showed up on a rec list!)