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A fine romance, with no kisses
A fine romance, my friend, this is
The drive back is rather different.
It takes them longer to go back to Sydney, with only two people alternating at the wheel. Adam does try to teach Benji how to drive while Tick is sleeping off a headache caused by the other two actually making it from "Ninety-nine fat trannies working on the wall" all the way down to forty-three, but they have to abandon that idea rather immediately when they realise that Benji's feet don't quite reach the pedals.
"We'll get you some platforms," Adam promises, and rubs his knee where he hit it on the dashboard after heroically throwing himself at the brakes to avoid hitting a kangaroo. It's alright, though. This time the medicine cabinet is actually filled with the kind of content it was meant for. Tick raided the pharmacy in Alice Springs and stocked up on bandaids, antihistamines, insect repellent, cough syrup and five different brands of painkillers before they left. Adam's fairly confident that Tick also stole one of the fire extinguishers from the hotel lobby and shoved it under a bunch of frocks. Knowing the mood of Priscilla, that might actually have been one of his brighter ideas. Since the medicine cabinet is otherwise occupied, the bar has been relocated to the foot of Adam's bed, safely hidden away from - at least somewhat - innocent child eyes. Tick wasn't brave enough to ban alcohol completely. They had a feeling they might need it. Besides, it could be useful for antiseptic reasons.
"Fantastic," Adam had said as he wrapped up the bottles in towels. "When I cut my feet open in my sleep, all the bacteria will just wash away, and I'll be right as rain. Of course, I might bleed to death, but at least I won't get a nasty infection."
"Oh, do stop whining, Felicia," Tick had replied, wearing the same enormous grin he'd been wearing for weeks. "Think of how much fun it'll be to be a grown-up. Imagine having someone around whose bedtime is earlier than yours." He'd pinched Adam's cheek and wandered off, before Adam had a chance to tell him that the whole being grown-up thing didn't sound all that appealing.
Before they had left from Sydney, Tick had taken him aside and pleaded with him to try not to go out of his way to antagonise Bernadette too much. Adam had rolled his eyes and sighed before finally agreeing. Tick has no idea how much he actually tried. Adam is fucking talented at antagonising people. Before they left from Alice Springs, Tick didn't so much plead as push Adam against as a wall and order: "And no fucking drugs, Adam! I swear, if you do something that stupid this time around, I will throw you off the bus and leave you in the fucking desert!"
Adam squirmed against him, widening his eyes. "Why Mr. Belrose..."
Tick loosened his grip a fraction and sighed a little, his face taking on the far too familiar "Oh why do I even bother" expression.
"Fine," Adam said, relaxing against the wall. "I'm not a complete imbecile, you know. I'll behave. I'll be a boring adult."
It is rather nice though, not being the kid this time around. Being the one that Tick actually talks to, instead of being told to be quiet and go to bed, and shut up about bloody Abba already! No one's telling him to shut up about Abba now. He can only find one cassette, even though he knows he brought several. Bernadette probably burnt them all in some sort of ritual sacrifice to the gods of no taste. Still, it's better than nothing. He's singing along to Dancing Queen loudly while Tick and Benji are sitting on the floor of the bus, building a scaled model of their giant stiletto, Tick complaining about the lack of silver-coloured Lego. The fact that an eight-year-old boy has replaced a transvestite of an unmentionable age does surprisingly little to the general level of maturity.
You're just as hard to land as the Ile de France
I haven't got a chance, this is a fine romance
Adam is leaning against Priscilla next to an old, dusty gas station in the middle of nowhere. He never realised just how much nowhere there was in this country. Benji leaves the ancient looking payphone he's been talking to his mother on and walks up to Adam.
"Bernadette wants to talk to dad."
Adam nods toward where Tick is trying to make sense of the gas pump. "You go tell him. I'll entertain the old girl in the meantime." He picks up the phone and puts on his most annoying voice. "Bernadette! How are things in the outback? Has Bob made an honest woman out of you yet?" A stony silence greets him from the other side of the line, but he's never let that stop him before. "Well, just let me know well in advance so I can pick out my bridesmaid dress. I'm not trusting you with that. I'm thinking lavender, a bold cut, something that will really show off my tits." Still silence. Adam gives up. "Hello Bernadette," he says sweetly.
"Adam!" a pleasant voice greets him. "How lovely to hear from you. Have you got yourself lost in the desert yet?"
"We are quite capable of taking care of ourselves, Bernadette, my dear."
Bernadette makes a doubtful noise. "I bet you have absolutely no idea where you are right now."
"I do, actually. We passed a dead rabbit a while back that I'd recognise anywhere. We're a few hours from Coober Pedy." He's more aware of this than he wants to be.
"Oh," Bernadette says, and then "Are you alright?"
"You know me, darling. I'm always fine. Fabulous in fact."
"Yes, you are, aren't you?" Bernadette says slowly.
Adam runs his finger over the phone, watching it leave a line in the grime. "But it's sweet of you to care," he admits.
"Stay away from the locals now, alright?"
"I'm sure they'd be thrilled to see me again," he says bitterly. "We had so much fun last time!" He sees Tick approaching and finds his best smile. "Here's Mr Belrose for you now," he says politely before handing the phone over to Tick and climbing aboard the bus, heading straight for the back.
Adam doesn't let things get to him, he never has. There is no place in the world for a drag queen with a sensitive soul. Sometimes he wonders how Tick has coped for so many years. So the feeling of dread that wells up within him as they get closer to Coober Pedy baffles him a little. He takes a pair of scissors to the red wig he wore on his last visit and that was damaged in the fight. He hacks away at it, more viciously for every mile they travel, and it looks even more like shit now than it did when he started. And then they pass Coober Pedy.
"Aren't we stopping?" Benji asks, pausing in his tale of what has happened in his life during the last half decade.
"No," Tick says shortly. "Cooper Pedy is a horrible little place full of narrowminded people. We're better off stranded in the desert."
"Ok," Benji says easily and goes back to talking about his football team.
Adam puts the wig and the scissors down slowly. Then he rises and walks up to the front of the bus. He meets Tick's eyes in the rearview mirror and Tick raises his eyebrows slightly. "Feeling better then, darling?"
"Yes, thank you." He puts his arms around Tick's neck and squeezes tightly for a few seconds, only loosening his grip slightly when Tick squeaks in protest, and then gives him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. Tick wipes his face with the back of his hand and rolls his eyes at Benji.
"Ignore him. He gets a bit weird when he hasn't had his medication."
Adam grins widely and looks at Benji. "Did I tell you about the time your magnificent father, dressed as princess Diana, tripped over his dress and fell off stage in the most popular nightclub in Sydney?" To the sound of Benji's peals of laughter and Tick's groans of embarrassment, he shares the story, exaggerating freely, and never once letting go of his grip on Tick.
You're calmer than the seals in the Arctic Ocean
At least they flap their fins to express emotion
The hotel in Broken Hill is still the crazy painter's tribute to the Australian wildlife, and their room is possibly even more bizarre than the last time. After Benji is soundly asleep, Tick and Adam decide that since it seems like they're already hallucinating, they might as well be drunk, and so they raid the minibar. They never even think about heading down to the hotel bar. While they're filling up the empty vodka bottles with water, they toast to Bernadette and start talking about what she and Bob might be doing this very moment. When Adam finishes throwing up in the bathroom and returns, Tick is already out, snoring quietly. Adam pulls the cover up over him, and staggers off to his own bed, the image of Bernadette and Bob still burning on the inside of his eyelids.
The next morning he's woken up by a small hand shaking his shoulder and his eyelids still burning, this time from the impossible brightness of the room.
"What time is it?" Adam murmurs into his pillow, swatting at the annoying hand.
"Six."
"Oh, Christ, Benji, go back to sleep."
Benji insists and shakes him until Adam finally sits up in bed. Then he tugs at Adam's hand, dragging him over to the window. Once there, they stand side by side, staring down at Priscilla in silence. The big blocky red letters aren't quite as noticeable on Priscilla's bright pink exterior as they were on the old silver one, but they still stand out like fire.
"Right," Adam says brightly before looking away. "Nice to see people remember us." Benji turns to look at him and Adam shakes his head a little and sighs. "Feel like doing some painting before your dad wakes up?"
After a bit of rummaging he finds half a bucket of paint and the two brushes he bought the last time they were in Broken Hill. He pries the lid off the bucket and hands one of the brushes to Benji, who is still looking somber. He knew he should say something, but he has no idea what. It feels dangerously close to parenting.
"Some people are just..."
"Arseholes?"
"Your mum probably says that all the time, right?"
"Pretty much." Benji smiles a little and Adam makes a face in mock exasperation.
"Well, for once she might have a point."
They work rather well together. Adam takes the upper parts of the letters, and Benji the lower.
"Hey!" Benji protests when they meet in the middle and Adam's brush leaves a bright pink smear on Benji's arm.
Adam scoffs. "I'll have you know I have been called the Picasso of public transport!"
Benji dips his brush in the paint and squints at Adam. "Is he the one whose paintings don't really look like anything?"
"I think that goes for pretty much all of them." Adam transforms the last bit of red into pink and steps back to admire their work. "Excellent job, young Benjamin!" He picks him up and swings him around, feeling a strange sense of pride as the boy laughs in delight. When he puts him down they high five and manage to clear away the bucket and brushes right before Tick steps out on the hotel porch. He blinks sleepily at the morning sun before walking over to them.
"What are you two up to?" he asks putting his arms around Benji, pulling him close.
"Packing," Benji says, gazing up at his father.
"All your things are still in the room."
"Right," Adam says. "We're just making sure the bus is ready for packing. So much more effective that way."
Tick looks suspiciously at him, but then Benji's arm catches his attention. "Is that paint?"
"Oh, Benji," Adam says admonishingly. "What did I tell you about leaning against the bus? You know, I got the paint really cheap," he explains to Tick. "I think all the sun might have been too much for it. The bus is starting to bleed." He grabs Benji's hand and drags him toward the hotel before Tick has a chance to reply. "Let's get you cleaned up before your skin starts to peel off."
"I'm a lot older than you, you know," Tick says later while he's at the wheel, Adam in the seat beside him, painting his toe-nails.
"Well, that ain't a surprise to anyone, sweetheart," Adam drawls.
"I've been through a lot."
"I'll say! Wife and a kid, can't think of anything more terrifying." Adam smiles cheekily and wiggles his toes at Tick. Tick glances at Adam's feet and wrinkles his nose in objection. Adam sighs and breaks out the nailpolish remover.
"I'm not sure why you feel the need to protect me," Tick continues.
Adam bends over his toes. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"A bleeding bus, Adam? Really?"
Adam lifts his head and meets Tick's eyes. He shrugs a little, almost defiantly.
"What did it say?" Tick asks.
"Nothing too bad. Must have been the less creative wankers this time." He watches Tick's hands grip the wheel tighter. "It's alright, love," he says gently. "I doubt Benji's scarred for life."
"It's not alright! It's never alright! I knew it would be like this."
A few minutes pass in silence before Tick finally sighs deeply and reaches for Adam's hand. "Thank you, though," he says and squeezes it.
"Anytime," Adam says, and is almost surprised by how much he means it.
We should be like a couple of hot tomatoes
But you're as cold as yesterday's mashed potatoes
The thought of Tick and his wife is both fascinating and gross at the same time, and Adam just can't stop bringing up the subject.
"How did you get her to marry you, anyway?" he asks.
Tick pokes at the fire with a stick, smiles and shrugs. He throws a guilty look toward the bus where Benji's sleeping and lights a cigarette. "You'll have to ask her about that."
"Oh, I did," Adam says, moving a little closer. It's a cold night, after all. "She was most informative. I just wanted to give you the chance of telling me your side of the whole sordid affair."
Marion hadn't told him a thing. When he had cornered her before that evening's performance she'd just slapped his arse and laughed in his face. "If you want to get a marriage proposal out of Anthony Belrose, you'll have to figure out how for yourself." And then she'd flounced away, still laughing, ignoring his weak protests.
"Not a chance," Tick says now, laughing too.
Adam makes a face, far from defeated and moves even closer, so that they're shoulder to shoulder. "You know, I've never had a married man," he says lightly, poking the fire with his shoe, drawing it back quickly when the shoestrings starts to glow.
"An experienced girl like you?" Tick says without even blinking, nudging his shoulder gently. "I find that very hard to believe."
"Oh, I'm sure I'll get around to it," Adam says, and lets his hand fall on Tick's thigh, his fingers moving ever so subtly.
"Well, you've climbed Kings Canyon in drag," Tick says as he slowly moves his leg out of reach. "What could possibly stop you now?"
"I don't know," Adam says, looking down at his empty hand. "Some obstacles are proving more difficult to get over than I thought."
They sit in silence. It's not awkward, Adam thinks, just slightly disappointing.
Tick clears his throat. "Benji wants me to do the Abba show."
"Yeah? Are you going to?"
"Might be time." He's silent for a while again. "You interested?"
"Really?" Adam asks, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. "The legendary Abba show with the magnificent Mitzi del Bra? Little ol' me?"
"Adam..."
"Hang on, let me savour the moment." Adam puts his hand over his heart and sniffles a little. "This might actually be the greatest moment of my life." He's not entirely joking.
"I could just call Bernadette, you know."
"Don't." He forces himself to be serious for a moment. "Yes. Please. I would be honoured."
"Ok, then." Tick looks away, not really hiding the smile on his face.
"Hey," Adam says. "I get to be Agnetha, right? Well, I have the arse for it!" he continues at Tick's affronted look. "And let's face it, you're a terrible blonde!"
My heart's not made of plastic,
You're the reason I'm sarcastic;
Cause this is a fine, fine romance!
"I'm scared to death," Tick confesses, watching Benji in the back of the bus, making funny faces at the cars that passes them as they roll into Sydney. "What do I do? What do I say?" He looks at Adam with a helpless expression on his face. "What if he wants to have the sex talk?"
"Well, I can't think of anyone more suitable than you," Adam says, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Driving in the city feels strangely intimidating after miles and miles in the wilderness. "You can do all kinds of interesting comparisons."
Tick starts biting his nails and Adam sighs. "Relax! He's eight. I don't think he's quite up for that yet."
"He'll need help with his homework, you know. Things like maths. I don't remember any maths!"
"Stop it," Adam says sternly and pulls Tick's fingers away from his teeth. "Do you want your nails to look like shit next time you're on stage? Besides, as I said, Benji's eight years old. Two plus two equals four. Can't be more complicated than that at his level."
"How did I let Marion talk me into this?" Tick wonders morosely.
"You seem to be doing fine so far," Adam says.
"Of course!" Tick says. "Two weeks on a bus, a constant adventure. And you."
Adam stops at a red light and turns to look at Tick. "What about me?"
"You've been..." Tick laughs. "I never thought I'd say this, but you've kept me sane. You've been amazing. Don't know how I'll do it without you."
Adam shrugs. "You don't have to. You could just... keep me around." There's a moment of silence and he groans at himself. "Sorry, sorry," he says and shakes his head. "I don't know why I keep doing that! I'll just stop."
"No," Tick says quietly, and Adam stares intently at the traffic lights, refusing to look at him. "Please. I'd be honoured."
There's a hand on Adam's thigh and the lights turn to green.