Pairing: Some "Stephen"/Jon.
Warnings: Dialogue-fic, bad logic, and a lot of capslock.
Summary: "Stephen" is concerned about Jon's lack of interest in space training.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual. Any information about space is made up, and should not be taken as fact.
Author's Note: Many thanks to sirdrakesheir for letting me type this at her on AIM, and for encouraging me to post this story here.
“SPACE IS AWESOME, JON! I AM GETTING A BONER JUST THINKING ABOUT SPACE! IT’S THAT COOL. EVEN THE NAME IS COOL. SPACE. SPAAAACE. SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE.”
“Okay, Stephen, please shut up now; I am trying to read this script.”
[There was a short pause.]
“WE OWN SPACE, YOU KNOW. AMERICA DOES.”
"W-what are you talking about."
"WE GOT A MAN ON THE MOON! WE OWN SPACE!"
“You can't just put someone somewhere and say you own it. That’s not how it works.”
"WELL ISN'T THAT HOW AMERICA HAPPENED, JON?"
"ARE YOU SAYING AMERICA IS BASED ON A LIE? IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE SAYING, STEWART?!"
"No, I just meant-"
“ERGO, WE OWN SPACE.”
"...Please get off my desk.”
[At this point in time, there was an awkward pause that lasted for about a minute.]
"Jon, do you know something."
“I know many things-"
“No, but do you know THIS?”
"What the hell is 'THIS', Stephen?”
“Space is cold.”
“...Space is cold?”
“There is no sun in space, Jon. No fiery day-star to bring heat to the huddled masses.”
“And why are you telling me this?”
“SO DO YOU KNOW HOW ASTRONAUTS SAY WARM?”
“You're going to tell me regardless of my answer, aren't you?”
“THEY SHARE SLEEPING BAGS. THAT IS WHAT THEY DO, JON.”
"Stephen, why are you telling me this? We don't have any sleeping bags."
"In that case, we will start with baby steps! In case we need to go to space! Space training starts NOW, Jon!!"
"Alright, alright. Wait, what are you doing those are my pants-"
"I SAID SPACE TRAINING STARTS NOW"
[Here there was another awkward pause, perhaps even more awkward than that last one.]
"...You are wearing my pants on your head. Why."
"EVERYONE KNOWS PANTS ARE EXCELLENT SUBSTITUTES FOR SPACE SLEEPING BAGS, JON. GOD. IF YOU WERE A MEMBER OF TOTALLYNOTGAYSPACEADVENTURES.COM YOU'D KNOW THIS."
"But then, why are you wearing them on your head? That makes no-"
"CAN’T TALK! TRAINING FOR SPACE!"
"…Can I have my pants back now."
"WHY DO YOU HATE SPACE, JON? WHERE IS YOUR SENSE OF ADVENTURE?"
"You're wearing it on your head. C'mon, take those off, man. I need to start filming soon."
“TRAINING CANNOT WAIT! WHAT IF THE PRESIDENT CALLS AND TELLS YOU TO PACK YOUR BAGS FOR JUPITUNE?"
“Stephen, the president is never going to…”
[Here there was a short pause. Stephen said nothing; Jon giggled a little.]
“…Jupitune? Did you just make up a planet name?"
"MAYBE I DID, JON. I NEVER BOTHERED TO LEARN THEIR NAMES."
"That… does not surprise me, really. Tell you what, if the President does call and ask me to go to space, I’ll tell him to talk to you, my brave space adventurer, instead."
"Y-you can't do that, Jon."
"And Why not?"
"I CAN'T GO TO SPACE ALOOOOOONE, JON. I'D MISS YOUUUUUUUUU. I NEED YOU TO TRAIN WITH ME SO THAT YOU CAN COME TO SPACE WITH ME SO WE DON'T HAVE TO BE LONELY."
[Stephen then started crying a little in a sort of girly manner.]
"...Alright, we'll train together later. Now give me my pants back."