Title: The Seducer, Part 7
name: Scribe
fandom: The Drew Carey Show
pairing: None
status: WIP
criticism: Yes
archive: Yes, let me know where
feedback: Yes.  poet_77665@yahoo.com
Webpages: 'Poetic' Series (X Files Krycek/Mulder
stories built around poems)
http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver     My personal
stuff, slash, fanfiction, and original at
http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665   and all my stuff
is archived under the name Scribe at
http://www.fanfiction.net.  My private forum there is
http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Feedback is always welcome.
Disclaimer: Not mine, but I love 'em anyway.
summary:  Oswald is perplexed, and Lewis isn't helping
things any.
notes:
rating: NC-17

The Seducer, Part 7

by Scribe

Oswald was lying across the bed on his stomach, chin
on his crossed arms, moping when Lewis arrived
upstairs.  Lewis paused to admire a very nice scenic
view of Oswald posterior before he came the rest of
the way into the room.  "Hey, buddy.  You okay?"

"What is this strange power I have over men, Lewis?
And why the hell can't I have it over women?"

"I don't know, Oswald.  Judging from my Star Trek
experience, I WOULD say that you've entered an
alternate universe where everyone's personality is
completely opposite from their usual one, but Mimi is
still a bitch, and Kate is still easy."
"Wick never even NOTICED me before.  Oh, except to
tell me that you and me both were a comfort to
fundamentalists everywhere, as living proof that
Darwin's Theory of Evolution Through Survival of the
Fittest couldn't POSSIBLY be true."

"See, Oswald?  You shouldn't have anything to do with
someone who insults you like that."

Oswald blinked.  "That was an insult?"

"How IS your Uncle Bonzo, anyway?"

"Fine.  Him and Aunt Cheetah are gettin' a divorce,
though."

Lewis sat on the bed beside him.  "Besides the fact
that Wick is a man... sort of.... you have to take
into account the SIDEDNESS of this.  It's just like a
bolt out of the blue."

Oswald rubbed his butt.  "Yeah, I felt like I'd been
struck by lightening when he pinched me."

"It's just a physical attraction for him. Oswald.
True love grows deep, over a long period of time.
Say," he said casually, "How many years have we known
each other, anyway?"

Oswald shrugged, not looking at him.  "Most of our
lives, I guess.  You're like a brother to me."

Lewis winced, then cleared his throat.  "How do you
feel about the Southern take on... um... family
relations?"

Oswald looked thoughtful.  "I have a cousin from
Alabama who says he goes to family reunions to meet
dates."

"And?"

"Come to think of it, HE pinched my butt at the last
reunion, too!  My God, it's everywhere!"  Oswald
rubbed his rump again.

"That really seems to be bothering you."

"Why do you think I'm laying on my stomach?  If there
ever was a
lay-on-your-back-and-stare-moodily-up-at-the-ceiling
moment, this is it, and I CAN'T!"

"Say, that's rough.  Would you like me to get you some
ice for that?"  He paused.  "An Absorbine, Jr. rub
down?."  Pause.   "Maybe a nice coconut oil massage?"

"Nah.  I'd get all sticky."

"You sure would."

Oswald sat up, sighing dejectedly.  "I just don't know
what to do about this situation.  I mean, Wick is
Drew's boss, and Drew is my friend.  I don't want to
do anything that might, like, get him in trouble, or
anything."

"Look Oswald, Drew's a big boy...  Man, THERE'S an
obvious statement.  Anyway, he can take care of
himself.  You have to think about YOU.  I mean, even
if you WERE going to go Greek, it wouldn't be with an
over-polished, warm-beer drinking, scone-eating,
Yorkshire Pudding-addicted man who puts 'u's in words
where they don't belong and says 'shed-ule' instead of
'sked-u-al'.  Right?"

"Pardon?"

"You'd go for the All-American type: a hard working,
handsome, passionate, blue-collar Joe."

"Do I KNOW any of those?"  He thought.  "Well, there's
Steve, but Mimi would neuter me."

Lewis sighed.  "It just bothers me that there's been a
couple of times during this fiasco where you've
seemed, well..."

"Horrified?"

"No."

"Scared shitless?"

"Curious."

Oswald sat up quickly, yelping when his butt hit the
rather firm mattress.  "I am NOT curious!  I've never
BEEN curious."

"Oswald, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you spend
three days in junior high unwinding all the string in
a baseball to see if there really WAS explosive
material inside?"

"That was my science project!"  He puffed out his
chest proudly.  "I got a C-."

"It was a D+.  And aren't you the one who always runs
his finger over everything that has a WET PAINT sign
on it?"

"Hey, it has to dry SOMETIME."

"And didn't you poke a hole in the bottom of every one
of those Godiva chocolates to take an inventory of
what kind you had so you could write up a list of what
order you wanted to eat them in?"

"But you gotta space out your praline cremes or you'll
end up with nothing but maples and amarrettos."  Lewis
stared at  him, and he sighed.  "All right, all right.
I'm a fucking cat, okay?  Meow."  Lewis shuddered,
and made a noise.  Oswald looked at him suspiciously.
"Did you just purr?"
"Uh, no.  I cleared my throat."  Lewis cleared his
throat.  "The thing to remember is, Oswald, that if
you ever DO decide to... you know... you should do it
with someone you trust."

Oswald gasped.  "I should do it with MR. ROGERS?!"

Lewis winced.  "No, that's not what I meant."  He
paused.  "Though with those sweaters..."  He shook his
head.  "No, no.  If you DO decide you want to
experiment, go to a friend."

Oswald thought.  "I don't HAVE that many good friends.
There's Drew.  No offense to him, I love him, but..."
He gulped and said hastily, "I didn't mean I LOVE
him, but, you know...  Anyway, he's kinda chunky."

"Chunky is a term for peanut butter.  Drew is... big
boned."

"Whatever.  Then there's Kate, but I've already done
it with her, and anyway, she's a girl, so that kind of
negates the whole purpose.  Then there's you..."  He
trailed off. 

Lewis reclined on his elbow and gazed up at him.
"Ye-es?"

"Uh...  But...  But... you're not... gay."  Pause.
"Are you?"

Lewis sat back up, his voice indignant.  "Certainly
not!  However I AM willing to make almost any
sacrifice for a buddy's peace of mind.  This
depending, of course, on whether said buddy wanted to
top or bottom."  He put an arm around Oswald's
shoulders.  "And another thing in my favor.  I have a
background in the field of experimentation.  After
all, I work at Drug Co.  And you should SEE some of
the experiments those guys run with the lab animals
off the record."

Oswald looked a little squeamish.  "Yeah?"

"Oh, nothing that hurts them, of course.  But it can
be very interesting."  He got a faraway look in his
eyes.  "There's something oddly compelling about a
macaque monkey in a little leather vest."

"Lewis, you gotta stop working the graveyard shift."
Oswald stood up and moved out of his friend's reach.
"I don't think I could do it with you, Lewis.  Sex
changes everything in a relationship."

"Maybe you ARE gay.  That sounded too damn sensitive
for a normal heterosexual male."

Oswald arched his eyebrows, crossing his arms.
"Sometimes we just want to be held."

"I was wrong.  You're not gay, you're a woman, and we
just haven't noticed it till now."

Oswald's hands flew to his hips.  "Am not!"  Lewis
looked at his pose, then quirked an eyebrow.  Oswald
quickly removed his hands.  "Am NOT!"

Lewis' voice was sly.  "Prove it.  Drop your pants."

Oswald started jerking at his belt, muttering, "I'll
show you, you rat.  Don't believe me, huh?  Well, I'll
just..."  He suddenly realized what he was doing when
he saw Lewis going for the Instamatic.  "HEY!"

"I was just going to document it for posterity."  He
looked at the camera.  "Can you get 8 x 10s from the
negatives for this thing?"

"Lewis!"

"It's not like I'm asking for a poster or anything.
Though I heard there's this printing shop downtown
that will..."

"I'm not listening to this!"  Oswald started for the
stairs.

"Wait!  Don't go!"  Lewis hurried after him, his voice
rising.  "At least wait till I get behind you so I can
look at your butt!"
Oswald got halfway down the stairs when Wick appeared
at the bottom.  The Englishman stood, arms
outstretched to either side, hands on the rails,
effectively blocking passage.  "Hello, Oswald."  His
voice was deep.  "Why don't you slide down the
banister?  Just sling one of those long legs over,
s-t-r-addle it, and s-l-i-d-e on down.  I'll catch
you."

Oswald started back up.  Lewis appeared at the top of
the stair.  "Don't listen to him, buddy.  Come back up
here, where you'll be safe.  Have I told you that Drug
Co. is looking for research volunteers to test a new
cellulite cream that's supposed to firm and tone the
buttocks?  I was planning to join, and I can get you
on."

"Don't listen to him, darling." Wick sniffed.  "Your
arse is beautiful just the way it is.  It should be
framed.  In fact, I've brought my tape measure with
me, so if you'd just let me take a few
measurements..."

"DREW!"  Oswald wailed.

At his table in the bar, Drew sighed.  "Aw, hell, here
I go, playin' Jack Armstrong, All American Boy again."
He put down his beer, got up, and went to the stairs.
"Mr. Wick!  Lewis!  Back off!  Have you no shame?"

"No, absolutely not."  Wick peered past Oswald at
Lewis.  "You?"  Lewis shook his head.  Wick turned
back to Drew.  "Complete and utter absence of shame,
Carey."

"What about dignity?"

"Please, Carey.  After Fergie's toe sucking incident?"

"Well, for heaven's sake, if you have to pant after
the poor guy, be a gentleman about it!"

Wick hung his head.  "You're right, Carey.  We English
do have a fine old tradition of genteel, romantic
courtship.  Robert Browning, Lord Byron, Tennyson and
all that.  Of course..." He turned lustful eyes back
to Oswald.  "...there's also Benny Hill to consider."

Steve walked past.  "If you run a big chase through
here with saxophones,  a bald headed midget and bare
breasted women, I'm kicking you out."

Wick stepped back, opening up a passage, and bowed to
Oswald gallantly.  "Please, fair one.  Come down from
your lofty perch," he shot a glance at Lewis, "Before
the buzzard gets you."  Oswald eyed the narrow space,
his hands going to cover his rump.  "Do not fear, I
shall not molest you.  Not in public, any way.  Your
delectable posterior is safe for the nonce."

"Yeah," Lewis growled.  "But is it safe from the
nance?"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but my lawyer
can bust your balls.  Watch that sink hole you call a
mouth."  Wick warned.  "Oswald?"

Oswald edged cautiously past Wick.  Nigel didn't grab
at him.  His fingers twitched worse than a junkie who
was two days dry with a bag of China White in front of
him, but he didn't grab.  Instead he waved Oswald over
to the gang's regular table again, and held his chair
for him.  Oswald started to sit, but paused halfway
down.  Bitter experience  had taught him that a chair
that was there when you started down might NOT be
there when you approached landing.  Wick cooed,
"That's all right, lamb.  You just squat there as long
as you like.  I'll just stand here and compose a
sonnet to your bum."  Oswald sat.

Kate, on the other side of the table, said, "I've had
guys write poems about my body parts before."

Drew joined them.  "Yeah, Kate, but I'm not sure
limericks count in the grand scheme of things."

Wick folded his hands on the table and said
solicitously, "Are you feeling safer now, with your
friends around you?"

"Yeah, kinda."  Oswald eyed Lewis warily as he took
his seat next to him.  "Some of them."

"Taking Carey's good advice..."  Wick paused, looking
astonished.  "Good Lord, I can't believe I'm saying
that.  I can probably make a fast fifty selling the
story to the World Weekly News."
"Nah, too unbelievable." Lewis dead panned.  Drew
threw a pretzel at him   It might have been effective
if Oswald didn't catch it and eat it.

"Neatly done, pet.  In any case, I am doing the proper
thing, and stating my intentions publicly.  Oswald,
I'm going to court you."

Oswald looked dismayed.  "But what have I done?  Won't
you get in trouble for a frivolous lawsuit?"

"Luckily I don't find brains all that sexually
stimulating.  I mean that I'm going to woo you, chat
you up, take you out, romance you..."

"Put the moves on you."  Lewis scowled.

"Yes, but in a very sophisticated, respectful way.
Oswald, will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"

"I hafta work." he stalled.

"You DO get a lunch break?"

"Well, yeah." 

"Come by the office tomorrow at noon."

"I dunno."

Wick sighed.  He leaned a little closer, made his eyes
enormous, and batted lashes that suddenly looked about
three inches long.  "Please?"

"Oo.  Okay."

"Splendid!"  He got up, and took Oswald's hand.  He
kissed it, "Saying you won't regret this."  Then he
turned around and strutted out of the Warsaw, singing
along with the song someone had just fired up on the
kareoke machine.  "I'm gonna ma-ake you luuuve me....
Oh, yes, I will!  Oh, yes, I will!"

Lewis looked hurt.  "I can't believe you did that."

"But Lewis, he gave me puppy dog eyes.  You know I
can't resist puppy dog eyes."  Lewis tried it himself.
"I meant cocker spaniel puppy dog eyes.  Not
bloodhound puppy dog eyes."

"Rats."

"Yeah, they kinda look a little beady, too..."

Kate was curious.  "You're really gonna go out with
Wick?"

"It's just lunch, Kate.  I mean, it'll be broad
daylight, and on my lunch hour.  Nothing can happen
under those circumstances, right?"

Drew ate a pretzel.  "You could do a speech on that.
I think the Annual Convention of the Managers of
No-Tell Motels has a slot open on their Afternoon
Delights panel."


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