clo (clo) wrote in clofic, @ 2005-07-08 00:13:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | andy roddick, andy roddick/roger federer, mardy fish, pg, roger federer, series, verse:bounty |
Series: Risk (verse:Bounty, PG, Mardy Fish, Andy Roddick/Roger Federer)
Title: Risk
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mild hints of Federer/Roddick
Summary: Mini-prequel to Bounty. Mardy gets asked for help from an unexpected person.
Notes: Set around the 2004 Olympics in Athens. This is the morning of Wednesday 18th, the day Andy lost to Gonzalez.
Disclaimer: Not mine, own themselves, don't sue, not worth it, it's all for fun and never happened.
Risk
Mardy had always thought most tennis players were evening people.
He hated mornings. He knew Andy, currently sprawled over the bed across the room and snoring softly, hated mornings. Okay so James had a habit of getting up horrendously early just to wind the rest of them up with his cheerful awake-ness when they finally rolled out of bed hours later but he secretly liked to sleep as much as anyone. Mardy had even heard that Federer, the untouchable Swiss, liked nothing more than to sleep in. So when his phone rang painfully loudly at eight-o-five am, he seriously considered throwing it against the wall to teach a lesson to whoever thought just-gone-eight am is a good time to call.
He didn’t of course. Mardy was the sweet, innocent one who never – okay, hardly ever – broke racquets or got annoyed. He’s the one who carried Andy back to his hotel room at four in the morning after the number two seed had been out all night partying. He helped people out at his own expense and when Andy had stuck his foot in mouth again, it was always Mardy who smoothed things over. He was the reliable one, the one who stopped Andy burning out or starting fights after particularly bad days. It meant he’d never had the time or effort to plough into his own tennis or his girlfriends or his life in general, not that it really bothered him. Andy once told Mardy he was so laid back he could be pushed over and used as a bridge. Mardy had had to think about it for a few minutes until he’d decided it had been an insult. He’d dunked Andy in the pool as revenge, but it had stuck in his mind ever since.
He wasn’t sure he liked being a pushover but then, he wasn’t sure he had the drive or ambition to be anything else. Being laid back was easier. Which is why he didn’t even sound overly annoyed as he answered the phone, after groping sleepily under the bed to find it first.
“Fish speaking.”
“Mardy?” It took him a long moment to place the accent and even longer to believe it. Why that particular person would be calling him at such a god-awful time of day… He thought he’d got it wrong until the voice confirmed his suspicions, a little hesitantly. “It’s Roger. Federer. I want… need a favour.”
~
Half an hour later Mardy was sitting in the coffee bar in the Athlete’s Village, still mostly asleep despite the fact he was on his second frappe. He had never seen the place so empty – there were a few girls who looked like gymnasts curled in the booth by the window and a hulking bald guy methodically working his way through a litre jug of black coffee as he read his newspaper in the corner but other than that it was dead quiet. Mardy slid surreptitiously a little further down in his booth, feeling almost like a secret agent as he drained the dregs of his coffee. Before he could get up to order another one a slender brown hand set a fresh frappe down in front of him and Roger Federer slid hesitantly onto the bench across from him, cradling a cup of black coffee.
Well damn. Mardy had been suspecting a wind-up yet the Swiss was sitting right in front of him, sipping his coffee and avoiding the American’s eyes with every sign of nervousness.
Interesting.
“Guten morgen,” Mardy greeted him, remembering enough from German class to get the basic pronunciation right. Roger’s smile was sudden, dazzlingly bright and whoa, Mardy hadn’t realised the Swiss could turn the charm on like that.
“Guten morgen.” Roger put down his coffee and reached up to tuck a wayward curl of his hair neatly behind one ear, still smiling. “How are you?”
“Good. A little sleepy. You?” Mardy realised how weird it was to see the Swiss with his hair down – the few times they’d met before had mostly been on-court, with the shining brown curls caught up neatly in a ponytail. Now the Swiss looked almost relaxed, with hair falling into his eyes and his casual white t-shirt with a Swiss flag on the sleeve. It was the little things that betrayed his nerves, from the way he tilted his coffee from side to side and tapped his fingertips against the cup to the way he repeatedly pushed back that stubborn strand of hair. Mardy hid a smile and leant back in his seat, picking up his frappe as he waited for an answer.
“I’m- I’m fine. I…” Roger trailed off, frowning in frustration. “I’m sorry to wake you so early.”
“It’s fine,” Mardy assured him and he was telling the truth. Seeing Roger Federer twitchy and begging favours was worth getting up early for, even if only because seeing was believing. The Swiss’ smile faded and he glanced absently out the window as if searching for what to say.
“I would like to ask a favour,” he said finally and Mardy nodded, taking a sip of frappe. He took the time to enjoy the icy coffee taste before swallowing, reflecting on how to answer. Roger watched him with that scarily infinite patience he used on court, dark eyes narrowed against the morning sun shining through the window.
“So you said.” Mardy watched the Swiss’ anxious finger-tapping speed up and decided he’d kept Roger hanging long enough. “What can I do to help?”
Roger visibly relaxed, a genuine smile lighting up his expression as he shuffled sideways a little to sit more comfortably back in the booth. “It involves a bet.”
“Whoa!” Mardy’s mental alarm bells kicked into overdrive. Last bet he’d dealt with had involved a naked Andy, a naked Marat Safin and a video camera. He thought he’d probably lost ten years of his life sorting that little drunken exploit out. “What sort of bet?”
“The Australian’s bet. To kiss Andy.” Roger could smirk more wickedly than Mardy would’ve thought possible at this time of day. “You know, for the five hundred dollars.”
“Ah yes.” Mardy’s wariness gave way to amusement - that little bet was driving Andy nuts. It was hilarious to watch him twitch at every Australian accent he heard and Mardy was all for anything that gave him ammo to tease Andy with. “I have heard it mentioned once or twice.”
“I got to know Naomi – the Australian water polo captain,” Roger added and Mardy nodded understanding. “At lunch yesterday. She’s very nice.”
Mardy sipped his frappe with a noncommittal nod. He didn’t know much about the Australians, (though Andy had tried his best to infiltrate the Australian camp on more than one occasion) and he wasn’t sure why Roger was bringing the bet up, so he sat back and waited for the Swiss to get to the point. Roger seemed nervous again, staring down at his coffee.
“They were thinking of calling it off. Too much publicity you know. She said it wasn’t fun anymore.”
“They’ve called it off?” Mardy’s heart sank. The bet had been a good source of entertainment since they got here. A bored Andy Roddick was on level with plagues of locusts and hyperactive toddlers on the annoyance scale, and the Australian stalkers had given him a good distraction – without the bet Mardy knew Andy would’ve been driving everyone around him out of their minds all week. No bet meant nothing between Andy and boredom. Mardy wondered if it was too late to switch roommates.
“Not… exactly.” Roger’s hands tightened around his coffee mug until his knuckles went white. “I wasn’t really thinking and I… I offered to become involved.”
Mardy laughed. “Involved? How could you possibly-“ He broke off suddenly as it clicked, blinking slowly a few times before his smile widened into a broad grin. “Tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying. Please.”
“It’s not what- I didn’t think-“ Roger hastily tried to defend himself. “I was joking but she took it seriously and-“ He faltered again, dark eyes flicking up to stare pleadingly at Mardy who was trying not to suffocate with suppressed laughter. “It’s serious.”
“Yes. Serious.” Mardy held back his amusement a second longer before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, putting his head down to muffle the sound against his crossed arms. Roger shifted uncomfortably on his bench.
“I’m glad you find it funny,” he said stiffly which only made Mardy laugh harder. It was a few long minutes before the American could catch his breath and sit up again, wiping away tears of mirth.
“Oh I would give anything to see Andy’s face when you do it,” he said gleefully. “How much are they paying you to do it? Six hundred? Six fifty?”
“Eight hundred dollars,” Roger answered with a hint of reluctance. Mardy’s smile faded.
“Eight- eight hundred dollars?” He repeated in awe. “How’d you drive them up to that price? I mean it deserves something good, but eight hundred-“ He broke off, shaking his head wordlessly.
“They offered,” Roger said quietly. Mardy’s laughter seemed to have offended him slightly. “They seemed to think it would take that much to make me do it.”
“Wouldn’t it?” Mardy asked without really thinking and caught the fractional hesitation, the way Roger’s eyes glanced away, avoided Mardy’s stare. “Roger?” he asked slowly. “Wouldn’t it?”
“I-“ Roger rested his head on one hand. “I don’t know,” he said, shades of frustration in his tone. “I think, perhaps…”
Mardy carefully put down his coffee, leaning back to regard the Swiss with a critical eye. Andy ranted about the man at every opportunity; described at length the mocking smile, his ‘un-fucking-natural patience’ and how he was so annoyingly, incredibly perfect. In fact he’d been harping on about Roger so much lately that Mardy had been getting a little suspicious – he’d known for years Andy was bisexual and no one talks about someone they hate so constantly, even if what Mardy suspected was attraction rather than dislike, was on the subconscious level. Only now it seemed the attraction wasn’t just one-sided.
Very interesting.
“Roger,” Mardy said softly. “I have to know what you want to get out of this. If it’s simply a kiss for eight hundred dollars fine; Andy gets a harmless shock, you get the money and I get to laugh. If it’s more than that… Andy’s my best friend. I don’t want you going near him if it’s going to end with you getting him into something then changing your mind at the last minute.”
Roger looked startled. “I didn’t think you’d realise,” he admitted guiltily after a long pause. “I don’t know what to do. I wish I had never started it. I thought you might have some advice, tell me how Andy would react to… to me…”
“Kissing him?” Mardy finished with a slight smile. Roger returned it and sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over his eyes.
“Ja. Yes.”
“I have a feeling you’d be surprised,” Mardy replied, his smile widening. “But Roger listen; you’re sure about this? Once Andy gets hold of an idea he won’t let it go in a hurry so keep in mind getting in will be much easier than getting out. Do you really want to do this?”
Roger met his gaze, dark brown eyes fixing on pale blue, and didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure,” he said firmly. “I want to do this.”
“Okay.” Mardy took a deep breath as it occurred to him he was going to match-make between his best friend and his best friend’s arch rival. It was far too early in the morning for plots this complicated. “You’ve got the perfect excuse to grab Andy anywhere, at any time, by saying it's for the bet. Preferably not somewhere too public.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Roger agreed dryly. “I need to be able to follow him though you know? I need to know where he is to choose the best place.”
“That’s where I’ll come in. I can call you when he leaves, let you know where he’s headed maybe.” Mardy paused, combed a hand through his hair as he thought. This was crazy. Andy was going to kill him. Unless, in some insane, improbable way it all worked out and Andy and Roger lived happily ever after in some quaint little Swiss chalet in the mountains. He started to smirk again at the unlikely mental image.
“What?” Roger asked. Mardy shook his head and dragged his attention back to the problem at hand.
“Nothing. So when do you have to do this? Before we leave on Sunday?”
“Ja. The Australians have to actually see me do it.” Roger pensively looked down at his coffee again. “Are you sure he won’t get upset?” he asked quietly. On impulse Mardy reached out to rest a reassuring hand on the Swiss’ slender wrist.
“I think deep down, he’d love to return the favour,” he offered comfortingly. Roger seemed to absorb the words for a moment and the resulting smile lit up his expression, dragging an answering smile out of Mardy. Draining the last of his frappe the American frowned in thought, withdrawing his hand to lean his chin on it.
“Tomorrow then maybe. If it all screws up we still have Friday and the weekend to come up with a backup plan. We’ll have to see what happens in terms of winning matches…” And Mardy trailed off, remembering too late Roger was defeated in singles and doubles only yesterday. “Jesus, sorry Roger I didn’t…” The Swiss shook his head, avoiding Mardy’s eyes.
“I am coping,” he said with a shrug. “This helps. So tomorrow morning? You’ll call when he leaves?”
“Yeah.” Mardy reflected on what they were doing for a second. If he thought in any way it would result in Andy getting hurt then he would’ve have stopped the whole thing dead the instant Roger brought it up but he was confident Andy would see the funny side, or better yet realise what his subconscious has been telling him all along. Mardy was merely… nudging him in the right direction. Yeah, he thought to himself. Good excuse.
“Right. We have a plan.” He glanced at his watch and jumped up, surprised at how much time had passed. If Andy woke up and found him missing with no explanation there’d be hell when he got back. “I’d better go – I didn’t tell them I was leaving. I’ll call you tomorrow morning when he gets up, to give you time to get over there, then again when he’s left the room? That sound good?”
“Fine.” Roger looked up at him with a smile, more relaxed now than he’d been since he first sat down. “Thank you Mardy. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“You can repay me by doing one thing,” Mardy suggested and Roger nodded.
“Anything.”
“Don’t you dare hurt Andy,” Mardy said in a low, deadly serious tone. “Because if you do you’ll have me to answer to and it will not be pretty. Understand?”
Roger blinked once, then offered his hand. Mardy took it and they shook, firm and determined.
“I swear,” Roger said sincerely. “I will never intentionally hurt him. You have my promise on that.”
Mardy nodded slowly. “That’s good enough for me. Until tomorrow then I guess..” He let go of the Swiss’ hand and started to turn away only to hesitate, looking back. “Roger can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why me? Weren’t you taking a risk asking Andy’s best friend for help?”
Roger smiled. “I trusted you not to get mad at me. You’re the only one I thought would understand.”
Mardy considered it for a moment. “I guess… yeah. Thanks.”
“I should be thanking you.” Roger looked down suddenly shy or embarrassed, Mardy couldn’t tell. “You should go. You don’t want Andy to be worried.”
“No. Tomorrow then.” Mardy glanced back once as he reached the door, looking thoughtfully at the Swiss number one who was staring into his cup of coffee and smiling. Of all the things Mardy had expected to hear in this meeting, Roger Federer wanting to kiss Andy Roddick wasn’t in the top ten. Hell, it probably hadn’t even been on the list. Chuckling to himself, Mardy pushed through the door, out into the morning heat of Athens.
Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.
~ Fin~