the_water_clock | FIC: Stanley and Livingstone (AI: Ryan/Simon, PG)

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FIC: Stanley and Livingstone (AI: Ryan/Simon, PG)

Author: Clio
Title: Stanley and Livingstone
Pairing: American Idol: Simon Cowell/Ryan Seacrest
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Ryan and Simon realize that Africa changed everything. Set during Idol Gives Back week.
Length: 2000 words.
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Thank you to

dana_kujan for the excellent beta! (I hate commas; could you tell?) I imagine that Ryan and Simon's African Honeymoon—you know, when Ryan said, "We learned how to have fun again"—had a lot to do with the copious amounts of Rymon we saw this year, and it was only now that I figured out how to write about it. Contains references to their fight over the Teri Hatcher mess, in Even Cowgirls Get the Blues.

I am a white man in Africa
If I were to stay here
There'd be no one to save me.
-Neil Finn, "Dr. Livingstone" (Crowded House)

Ryan was in the booth, doing voiceovers for that night's news, when he glanced down at the vibrating Blackberry to see one of the 19E office numbers come up. He had no idea who—could be a PA asking him something unimportant, could be Bruce, could be anyone. So he checked the message, and it was Nigel, and Nigel calling on a Monday was an odd thing.

"Yeah, Ryan, phoning to see if you could come by after your program and check some rough cuts of the Africa packages. Give me a ring and let me know, won't you? Cheers thanks."

Odder still. Ryan wasn't a producer, didn't get to look at rough cuts in general, was lucky that Nigel trusted him to write his own voice over scripts. But the Africa packages would need almost no voice overs, he knew, because they'd done so many standups on site. There wouldn't be much more to say; the images spoke for themselves.

He called his dinner date, hoping he'd answer and not be in some meeting. "Hello," said that warm voice, in that tone he used for Ryan and Ryan only, that tone that said, "I always love it when you call, even when I don't."

"Nigel wants to see me tonight. Can we push back dinner a little?"

"He wanted to see me, too, actually," Simon replied. "I was going to text you."

"Oh." Simon wasn't a producer either—rather infamously—so that Nigel wanted to show him a rough cut made all of this that much stranger. "I think I'll be there around six, but I don't know how long he'll take."

"He told me to come by about seven."

Specifically after him, then. Ryan racked his brain for what this could possibly be about, as he and Simon hadn't given anything away while the cameras were rolling. They couldn't have; it wasn't as though Kenya was particularly gay-friendly. "Well."

"Yeah."

"So, I'll see you there, and then I'll just wait for you, and you can give me a ride."

Simon was silent for a moment. "Yeah, let's do that. Jim drove me in, but I'll just ask him to drop off the convertible. But do you have anything to do while you wait?"

"Yeah, I need to write the countdown show, and that's all on the laptop anyway. I can use Nigel’s office."

"Right, well, I'll see you tonight then."

"Yeah." Ryan hung up, confirmed with Nigel, then went down to wardrobe still wondering what the hell was going on.

When Ryan got to 19E, Nigel was waiting for him in one of the editing closets. Strange to see him alone, not even a PA in the room, sitting in front of the Avid.

"Thanks so much for coming in," Nigel said, shaking his hand. "I know Mondays are busy for you, but I wanted you to see what we're showing on Wednesday, since you'll have your hands full the next two days getting ready for the show."

Ryan nodded. "Well, thanks, Nigel."

Nigel rolled the footage and Ryan saw Grauman again, strong little man, who'd made him think that if he had been abandoned with his sister, he'd have stepped up, too, and so he could see himself in Grauman immediately, deeply, and had had to call Meredith as soon as he got back.

"That's the package we'll use before Simon comes up on stage," Nigel said, and Ryan nodded. "This one is for later; I think you'll agree that you wouldn't want to have to follow it."

Ryan scowled slightly, confused, but turned back to the screen. And there was Emily, wonderful lady taking in all those children, and Simon doing his best British imperialist act, which American Ryan found simultaneously baffling and flat-out hilarious but probably more appropriate than anything he himself could manage. Atlanta had in no way prepared him for Africa; his black friends had longer lineages in the Georgia soil, even America, than he did. So about five seconds off the plane he went back to the way he'd been as an intern at sixteen, or on his first television show with Merv: gut instincts guiding him, senses honed until he was all reaction. He would process what had happened in the night, writing it all down by hand in a journal. But this time he had Simon, and so he wrote it all over Simon's body, too.

And then, oh, God. Emma.

Emma in that little room, and Simon storming out to collapse against the wall, and oh, hell, there was that second, that nanosecond of Ryan himself, after he left the room to look for Simon, turning his head, and—

"I know it's a bit cheesy, doing that in slo-mo," Nigel was saying, and his voice seemed far away, "but there isn't much footage there."

Ryan nodded absently…

When Simon ran out of the room, Ryan signaled the producer to keep the cameras on himself and not follow Simon. He apologized to Emma's friend, assured her that they'd help her, thanked her for her time, even got Emma to acknowledge his presence before leaving the tiny room, overheated and stuffy and smelling of death.

The cameras followed Ryan out, followed his eyes as he turned and saw Simon, squatting against the wall and crying. He told the cameras to turn off, shouted at them really—"I SAID CUT"—and made sure that red light was off. The producer said that everyone needed a break anyway, and walked the crew back to the trucks.

Ryan knelt down in the dirt in front of Simon. "Darlin'? Darlin', it's me and no one is watching but you have to look at me."

Simon raised his head, and Ryan could see the wet tracks against his dusty skin.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Tonight, I'll come in and get you, but it's not about us right now. We both have to put our masks on and help them. Once we're alone I'll rip that mask off and take you by the hand and lead you out of there. But right now you have to get it together. Do you hear me, darlin'? Tell me you hear me."

Simon nodded, sniffed, wiped his face with both hands, large and covering his cheeks and eyes.

"Tell me."

Simon pulled his hands back down, resting them on his knees, just a centimeter from Ryan's, though they daren't touch. His eyes, which had been liquid just moments before, were back to being glittering little black diamonds. "I heard you."

"I'm in there with you, darlin'."

"I know."

"Okay, c'mon," Ryan said, standing up and reaching out his hand to help him up, and Simon looked down at their hands as he stood before letting go quickly as he must. But Ryan kept the sense memory for the rest of the day, and he knew Simon did, too, for he kept his left hand balled in a fist, as though he still had Ryan's hand in his and was hanging on for dear life.

When Ryan looked up at the screen again, he saw Simon the British Imperialist taking command, this time of getting Ruth to the hospital. Nigel was saying, "We'll need your voice over for this bit, to say what happened to Ruth later," and Ryan nodded, sadly.

"The other bit," Nigel went on, "is the malaria piece, but that's just you in it." He looked at Ryan. "Are you all right with this?" he asked.

"Yeah, I mean, you were right. I wouldn't have wanted to be onstage after that package."

"No, we'll cut to Ellen, probably, after that. But Ryan," he continued, "do you think he'll be all right with this?"

Ryan had suspected that Nigel suspected, especially after that US Magazine quote, but now Ryan knew that he knew, and probably had known since the fight they'd had over Teri Hatcher, and wondered what Simon did or didn't tell him in Nigel's car that night. "Well, you're asking him later, aren't you?"

"Yes, but now I'm asking you."

Ryan looked up at the screen, and Nigel had scanned back to that moment, with Ryan looking over his shoulder and Simon in the distance. "I think so," Ryan answered, carefully. "You can't really tell what he's doing, anyway."

"Well, thanks much, Ryan," Nigel said, and they both stood. "I do appreciate it. Can I get a car for you?"

"No," Ryan said, and looked Nigel square in the eye. "Simon is driving us home after he sees this. I thought I'd wait for him in your office, if I can use your desk for a while? I have a script to write anyway."

Nigel stared back, and Ryan could see that he knew that Ryan knew he knew, and that Ryan knew he didn't give a damn thing away just then. "Perfectly fine," Nigel said. "Do you need an internet connection?"

"No, I downloaded everything I need," he said.

Simon was waiting outside the editing closet, and Ryan couldn't help but grab his hand as he walked past him, and hope that Simon could keep it with him.

Later, as Simon drove them home, Ryan said, "So, did you tell him, or did he work it out on his own?"

Simon smiled a little. "Nigel has known me for years," he said. "When he gave me that ride, that night you and I were fighting, I didn't have to tell him. He said he'd seen me pull a lot of shit through the years but he hoped I loved you, for all of our sakes, because if I didn't he'd personally see that I was killed, and he really didn't need to oversee a contract killing and a heartbroken host on top of two hit television shows."

Ryan nodded, wondering at Nigel's protectiveness of him. "So, he doesn't have a problem with it, apparently."

"Well, he wouldn't, would he?" Simon replied, grinning. "So, I said, yeah, I love Ryan, don't worry about it."

"Wait, so you told him before you told me?" Ryan asked.

"I didn't mean to," Simon replied. "I thought I'd already told you."

Ryan replied to this by holding up his left hand for Simon to talk to.

"I'm sorry?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

Simon's eyes were on the road, so he raised his right hand up to clasp Ryan's. And then he sang, "It's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide."

Ryan wanted to laugh at Simon's horrible singing, but he couldn't get a chuckle out because his throat was too tight with everything that he'd felt that evening, and with Simon even saying all of this out loud, so instead he swallowed and said, "'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'"

And Simon did laugh, but oddly, laughter didn't break the mood, but made it even sweeter, and he said, "No, Ryan," in his impatient way, and Ryan was pleased.

The next day there were flowers in his office after the radio show, a little pot of African violets, and a card that said, "Thank you for holding my hand, on three continents no less," and beneath it a quote:

Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
Ryan googled it, then called Simon. "John Donne? I thought you didn't pay attention at school because you were too busy making trouble."

"I didn't," Simon said. "Nigel gave me the quote, last night."

"Oh, well, that's all right then," he said. "Thank you, they're really lovely."

"Well, it will be a rough week," Simon said.

"Yeah."

"And we can't hold hands on stage. In fact, I don't even want you to look at me, while I'm up there."

"No?"

"I won't be able to hold it together if you do. No more masks for me."

"Not even African ones?" Ryan asked, joking, only not really.

Simon laughed, too, but there was steel in his voice when he replied, "Not even African ones. Not any more."

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ok, first of all, you know you've converted me, right? i do believe in rymon. i do believe in rymon!

this moved me to tears. i was crying throughout the sequence, god knows. i do love both of them, and expected to see them rise to the occasion, but it was more than i'd thought. simon was raw. and i remember that ryan's voice was completely different. completely.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Tonight, I'll come in and get you, but it's not about us right now. We both have to put our masks on and help them. Once we're alone I'll rip that mask off and take you by the hand and lead you out of there. But right now you have to get it together. Do you hear me, darlin'? Tell me you hear me."

my favorite, i think. or maybe this:

"Wait, so you told him before you told me?" Ryan asked.

"I didn't mean to," Simon replied. "I thought I'd already told you."

oh btw-

And if this love, though placèd so,
From profane men you hide,
Which will no faith on this bestow,
Or if they do, deride:
Then you have done a braver thing
Than all the worthies did,
And a braver thence will spring,
Which is to keep that hid.

Since it was following your story that got me to

cakeforever in the first place, and thence converted me to Cake, I consider that a favor returned! But aaww, I didn't mean to make anyone cry!

What struck me about all the Africa packages, not just that week but even the ones they rolled a few weeks before, is that when they would come back Ryan would say, "What do you remember about Africa, Simon" or some similarly open question, and Simon's first sentence would always, always be, "Well, you were there with me, Ryan."

Also, you have reminded me to amend my A/N—that little back and forth between Ryan and Simon is a reference to Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (http://jlh.livejournal.com/272342.html#cutid1) which details the Teri Hatcher Incident.

OMG thank you for the Donne! (Say, are you a Sayers fan? Because Donne = Peter in my head, always.) And thanks for the awesome comment!

ok, first of all, you know you've converted me, right? i do believe in rymon. i do believe in rymon!

Yes! I knew you would eventually! It couldn't be long if you were already a Caker! XD *does a happy dance to celebrate your conversion*

Yes, yes, yes. So much love for this. I wibbled all the way through and I am at WORK, for shame.

Aww, I didn't mean to make anyone wibble! But I am so glad that you liked it! Thank you!

Ugh. This moved me to tears, love. You know how I feel about their African honeymoon. That with the masks motif and the connection to the copious amounts of Ryan we got the pleasure of seeing this season...I am a puddle on the ground, and happy to be thus.

Atlanta had in no way prepared him for Africa; his black friends had longer lineages in the Georgia soil, even America, than he did. So about five seconds off the plane he went back to the way he'd been as an intern at sixteen, or on his first television show with Merv: gut instincts guiding him, senses honed until he was all reaction. He would process what had happened in the night, writing it all down by hand in a journal. But this time he had Simon, and so he wrote it all over Simon's body, too.

But Ryan kept the sense memory for the rest of the day, and he knew Simon did, too, for he kept his left hand balled in a fist, as though he still had Ryan's hand in his and was hanging on for dear life.

Simon was waiting outside the editing closet, and Ryan couldn't help but grab his hand as he walked past him, and hope that Simon could keep it with him.

Ryan wanted to laugh at Simon's horrible singing, but he couldn't get a chuckle out because his throat was too tight with everything that he'd felt that evening, and with Simon even saying all of this out loud, so instead he swallowed and said, "'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'"
And Simon did laugh, but oddly, laughter didn't break the mood, but made it even sweeter, and he said, "No, Ryan," in his impatient way, and Ryan was pleased.

"And we can't hold hands on stage. In fact, I don't even want you to look at me, while I'm up there...I won't be able to hold it together if you do. No more masks for me."

Also, it was so lovely to see Nigel not being horrible! He's a fantastic guy! I want to have dinner with him and talk about Rymon antics!

And gah! John Donne?!?! You did not just quote John Donne in Rymon fic! He's my faaaaaavorite!!!

I love you so much. So so so much for this. :D

OMG Thank you! I didn't mean to make people cry, I honestly didn't. And John Donne always equals Lord Peter for me, which is where I got the quote, actually.

I adore Nigel. He's so Nigel. And he's such a shipper!

Ohhh. God, this is so sweet, and sad, and succeeded quite thoroughly in bringing back all of my emotionally unbalanced Idol Gives Back feelings. You're always so spot-on when you write them, and so having you handle this particular subject in relation to them is just awesome.

Simon's eyes were on the road, so he raised his right hand up to clasp Ryan's. And then he sang, "It's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide."

Ryan wanted to laugh at Simon's horrible singing, but he couldn't get a chuckle out because his throat was too tight with everything that he'd felt that evening, and with Simon even saying all of this out loud, so instead he swallowed and said, "'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'"

And Simon did laugh, but oddly, laughter didn't break the mood, but made it even sweeter, and he said, "No, Ryan," in his impatient way, and Ryan was pleased.

Looooved that, especially -- the humour and the banter that is very very them, but with so much going on underneath it. Sigh.

You win everything that is to be won, my friend!

I'm just so glad that everyone liked it because it is suuuuuch a tricky moment and they are not openly emotional and so I was very nervous until Dana read it. And I was even particularly nervous that the singing was a bit much, so I'm glad it wasn't because I couldn't get that little line from that song out of my head.

But mostly, I just love them so much. THANK you for this!

Such a great response to that show! I love the way you show the two of them working together, how Ryan's good at the sort of American-feeling thing, reacting everything, and Simon comes to the rescue with his British Imperialist act where Ryan just has no idea what approach he could use. (I loved that line about Ryan trying to think about his own ties to Africa, and how all his friends from Georgia are more American than he is--or for longer, anyway.)

And then there's Nigel who knows, and now they know he knows, and now he knows they know he knows--what a relief! It's just great how he's added to the dynamic too, not just as an outsider in the relationship but as the producer, which they aren't, delicately handling the talent and the show, knowing he's got good stuff to show, but also understanding what all is underneath.

In his recap Jacob described Ryan as a tuning fork and I thought it was very apt because for all his OCD he is, like any interviewer, very reactive and a very good listener. And I can see Nigel being protective of him for some reason, though I don't really understand why.

I'm so glad you liked it, as it was such a tricky event to write a way into. Thank you!

Turned out beautifully, love. Yay!

Thanks! And thanks for giving it that read through!

omg. *sniffle* So sweet.

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.

You're welcome. And, as always, it was my pleasure.

Oh! Did I mention you are my favorite writer in this fandom? ::g::

I love that picture of Simon, I just have to say that first.

OMG! I am like, totally speechless because I've always been your fangirl! So that you like my stories is just … !!! Thank you! ^_^

Catching up on things after a week at the beach...

So, ah, speaking of your story-telling... Did you know Ryan's in Paris for Eva L's wedding? Paris. Paris. I don't know who his "and guest" is, but I hear Paris isn't far from London.

No pressure.

Paris!

Beautiful!

Never enough Rymon.

Never enough!

Thank you so much!

So sweet. I love Rymon. They are the cutest couple.

Aren't they? I adore them. Thank you so much!

this was so lovely, understated but all the more poignant and just perfect. you captured what happened in a beautiful way. i'm not making any sense but i LOVED it.

I was so worried about striking the right note with them so I am SO PLEASED at your comments. Thank you so much!

This was just beautiful.

*sniffles*

Aww, I didn't mean to elicit tears! But thank you so much!

aw...you're awesome in every possible way.

i'd been dying for some good rymon too :)

OMG, thank you! I'm so pleased I satisfied your craving!

I do so love the way you write. As much as I love the Rymon.

that warm voice, in that tone he used for Ryan and Ryan only
Ack, I love this.

gut instincts guiding him, senses honed until he was all reaction.
So Ryan. Even though I know a lot of what we're supposed to believe is spontaneous is, in actuality, scripted, I still think Ryan onstage is very much so just going with it.

"Darlin'? Darlin', it's me and no one is watching but you have to look at me."
I love when Ryan says "darlin'." LOVE.

Simon was waiting outside the editing closet, and Ryan couldn't help but grab his hand as he walked past him, and hope that Simon could keep it with him.
I love this -- like before, like in the video...love the throwback.

"When he gave me that ride, that night you and I were fighting, I didn't have to tell him. He said he'd seen me pull a lot of shit through the years but he hoped I loved you, for all of our sakes, because if I didn't he'd personally see that I was killed, and he really didn't need to oversee a contract killing and a heartbroken host on top of two hit television shows."
NIGEL! I hope he's like this.

"So, I said, yeah, I love Ryan, don't worry about it."
"Wait, so you told him before you told me?" Ryan asked.
"I didn't mean to ... I thought I'd already told you."
&hearts &hearts

"'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'"
Um, hi, me, too!

Fantastic!

That tone: So a few years back Ryan called Simon one morning on air, waking him up. His housekeeper answered the phone and at Ryan's behest went to wake up Simon, and Simon gets on the phone:
S: Hello? <--groggy, who the fuck woke me up?
R: Hello. <--normal, a bit businesslike
S: Hello! <--voice warm and full of hearts and flowers and I love being woken up by you
R: You're on air. <--quickly, before Simon says something else
S: Oh GOD! <--disappointed and annoyed.
So that tone? That tone is CANON.

Darlin' is my second favorite thing that Ryan says (the favorite being 'no-no-no-no-no') and I have a huge fetish for it. I love that it is both Southern and English, and that they both say it.

Nigel is a Rymon shipper. He said in US Magazine that he doesn't script Ryan and Simon's banter because in his story they'd be together already.

The I thought I told you is a reference to the story I linked to in the A/N, actually.

I, too, always thought the line was "I get high."

As for the scripting. All the stuff with the singers and Ryan is totally scripted, that is, everything that happens before they actually sing. But I don't think anything between Ryan and Simon, whenever, is scripted, for a lot of reasons. First, Simon doesn't go to the dress rehearsal; he sits in his trailer and listens to the singers. Second, you can tell when Ryan is doing something scripted because he doesn't do it that well; there was a lot of scripted jokes between he and Dunkelman first season and they're terrible. Third, Ryan has been on the radio five days a week for over fifteen years, so he is actually incredibly good at unscripted chatter; that is how he makes his living and why he has a star on the Walk of Fame (it's for radio). And when Simon is interviewed about Ryan he always says that one of the things he loves about Ryan is that he's so quick-witted. So like, the infamous "high heels" moment was probably in the script as "Ryan makes jokes with Simon" because Nigel isn't stupid, but the exchange itself was spontaneous.

Okay that was a reply to your review full of philosophical musings on Rymon, sorry about that! But it was all to say, THANK YOU so much, I'm so pleased that you liked the story!

Wow, this almost moved me to tears.
It's so sweet and emotionally powerful.

"But Ryan kept the sense memory for the rest of the day, and he knew Simon did, too, for he kept his left hand balled in a fist, as though he still had Ryan's hand in his and was hanging on for dear life."

The trust between them is so beautifully written as the way they seem to be able to communicate and being in tune with what the other is feeling without using words.

Hope ya wont mind me friending you, easier way to make sure that I wont miss any of yar stories^_^

:mems:

Thank you so much! It's hard to write about such an emotional moment and hit the right note so I'm glad you felt that it worked.

The trust between them is so beautifully written

That was definitely another thing I was trying to get across, that they trust each other enough to be that vulnerable, and be that in tune with each other.

Friend away! There is a big story I'm working on now that I hope to be posting in a few weeks, so hold tight. And I'm so flattered!

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FIC: Stanley and Livingstone (AI: Ryan/Simon, PG)

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