FIC: Wilma
Sep. 27th, 2011 05:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFandom: UK Politics
Title: Wilma
Ship(s): Ed Miliband/Wilma (OC)
Word Count: 357
Rating: G
Summary: Ed Miliband is resigning from the leadership to spend more time with someone called Wilma. David is flabbergasted. For this prompt.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Wilma
“Say that again,” David says, blinking.
His brother beams up at him. “I’m retiring to spend more time with Wilma.”
Balls silently pulls out a chair for him, and David sinks blindly into it. “Wilma.”
Ed’s eyes go unfocused. “She’s an angel. Oh, David, you don’t know what it’s like. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel when Wilma’s around. She’s a goddess, she’s…” He trails off in ecstasy.
“How did you let this happen,” David says to Balls, out of the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t look at me,” Balls says, holding up his hands. “I’m not the one who brought her in.”
David takes another look at Ed, who seems to be lost in rapt contemplation of the idea of his Wilma. “Who is?” he grits out between clenched teeth.
Balls narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure. Does it matter?”
“Yes,” David says. “Because I’m going to have his guts for garters.”
Balls looks impatient. “That’s hardly the point now. The point is, what do we do about…” He indicates Ed with a nod of his head. “I rung you because I thought you might be able to talk him out of it.”
David stares at him. “If I could talk Ed into doing anything,” he says, keeping his voice flat, “we wouldn’t be sitting here today, now would we.”
At least Balls has the decency to shift uncomfortably. “He’s still your brother.”
“Who apparently has fallen in love with a slut called Wilma.”
“Wilma is not a slut!” Ed says, very loudly and very indignantly.
David turns in his direction. “Sorry,” he says, politely. “A lovely young woman with an eye to the main chance called Wilma.”
“You take that back!”
“Make me,” David says, through his teeth.
Ed looks wounded. “Wilma isn’t a woman!”
David blinks, and goes through a rapid series of mental calculations. “Wilma isn’t a woman.”
“No!” Ed says.
Very, very carefully, David sets his briefcase down on the floor. “What, then,” he asks, in a voice that sounds far calmer than he feels, “is she?”
“Wilma,” says Ed, with the proud look of the besotted, “is a unicorn.”
~//~
Title: Wilma
Ship(s): Ed Miliband/Wilma (OC)
Word Count: 357
Rating: G
Summary: Ed Miliband is resigning from the leadership to spend more time with someone called Wilma. David is flabbergasted. For this prompt.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Wilma
“Say that again,” David says, blinking.
His brother beams up at him. “I’m retiring to spend more time with Wilma.”
Balls silently pulls out a chair for him, and David sinks blindly into it. “Wilma.”
Ed’s eyes go unfocused. “She’s an angel. Oh, David, you don’t know what it’s like. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel when Wilma’s around. She’s a goddess, she’s…” He trails off in ecstasy.
“How did you let this happen,” David says to Balls, out of the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t look at me,” Balls says, holding up his hands. “I’m not the one who brought her in.”
David takes another look at Ed, who seems to be lost in rapt contemplation of the idea of his Wilma. “Who is?” he grits out between clenched teeth.
Balls narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure. Does it matter?”
“Yes,” David says. “Because I’m going to have his guts for garters.”
Balls looks impatient. “That’s hardly the point now. The point is, what do we do about…” He indicates Ed with a nod of his head. “I rung you because I thought you might be able to talk him out of it.”
David stares at him. “If I could talk Ed into doing anything,” he says, keeping his voice flat, “we wouldn’t be sitting here today, now would we.”
At least Balls has the decency to shift uncomfortably. “He’s still your brother.”
“Who apparently has fallen in love with a slut called Wilma.”
“Wilma is not a slut!” Ed says, very loudly and very indignantly.
David turns in his direction. “Sorry,” he says, politely. “A lovely young woman with an eye to the main chance called Wilma.”
“You take that back!”
“Make me,” David says, through his teeth.
Ed looks wounded. “Wilma isn’t a woman!”
David blinks, and goes through a rapid series of mental calculations. “Wilma isn’t a woman.”
“No!” Ed says.
Very, very carefully, David sets his briefcase down on the floor. “What, then,” he asks, in a voice that sounds far calmer than he feels, “is she?”
“Wilma,” says Ed, with the proud look of the besotted, “is a unicorn.”
~//~
