Chapter Text
“James, I don’t understand why you feel the need to do this. If I wanted to decorate, I’d decorate myself. Besides, shouldn’t you be spending time with your daughter?” Mark appreciated the sentiment, really. It was just a bit weird that James, an Atheist, was so adamant about decorating for Gita Jayanti. Mark barely celebrated it himself, and yet James had managed to get his grubby hands on old decorations (likely from Mark’s parents, as they had been dropping hints about Mark taking James and his daughter in as guests for a Puja this year) and was loudly complaining about the lack of “decorateable surfaces” in Mark’s quarters.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and in burst Daisy, James’ daughter, arms full of bags of food from every Indian place in the country. Seamus followed behind her, carrying significantly more bags of food. He greeted Mark with a bright smile and waved as best he could with all the bags in his arms. Mark sighed and sauntered over to him, taking some of the bags and leading Seamus and Daisy to the SAS quarters kitchen.
While the three of them were putting away the feast James had apparently ordered months in advance, they heard a crash coming from the living room, followed immediately by “FOOKIN’ BASTARDS WITH THESE GODDAMN FOOKIN’ PIECES OF SHIT I CAN’T FOOKIN’ TAKE IT ANYMORE” which was cut off by Mike’s hysterical laughter.
Mark motioned for Seamus and Daisy to keep putting things away while he went to go check on the situation in the living room.
“James, there’s no need to-” There was a fire. How was there a fire? There hadn’t been any candles, certainly no fireplace. How had this flame started? Mark didn’t have time to ask, as James was still swearing violently, now cursing Mike’s chances of ever actually working up the nerve to ask Gustave out, to which Mike was responding by announcing he was going to go spend time with someone who appreciated him (Gustave) and that anyone else could get fucked. Except for Daisy. And Seamus. And Mark.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and before Mark knew it, a fire extinguisher was being shoved into his hands, and Seamus was walking back to the kitchen to continue putting away their mountain of food.
Mark extinguished the fire, and then decided that James was, in fact, deserving of a few good sprays with the retardant. This resulted in James tackling Mark, and Daisy loudly telling Mark to “KILL HIM!! KNOCK HIS BLOCK OFF!!! GET HIM!!!!!!!” Mark pulled away from James, dusting himself off while James lamented how even his daughter despised him.
“DAISY! Oh, love of my life, light of my days, why must you torment me so? Why is this plane so unkind, so unloving, so……… cruel?!”
Seamus was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and expression gleeful. “James, why don’t you get up from the floor and come help me put these decorations back up, hm? Maybe that’ll help you understand that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
Daisy laughed as her father stuck his tongue out at Seamus, before struggling to get up and dust himself off.
“You are all so cruel to me. I am leaving. I am going to live my life as a Victorian orphan, or perhaps a newsboy. I will be taking my little rucksack and leaving to become a lone vagabond, and there’s nothing any of you can do to stop me. So long, o cruel coworkers, boyfriend, and daughter. I bid thee farewell as I embark upon this journey to encounter mine own true family and friends. May you spend much time pondering my whereabouts and safety, for you will never hear from me again! O Lord, may you see the tortures I have been forced to endure in this mortal realm, and grant me luxury and decadence upon my arrival at the gates of your palace! I am but a humble soul, subjected to agonies and darkness the likes of which most cannot comprehend. I ask your forgiveness, o Heavenly Father, o Lord of All, for my actions in speeding up my arrival to you. May we meet again, friends, for I am returning home to Heaven!” And with that, he stabbed himself with the prop knife he always keeps on him, and collapsed to the ground, expression peaceful as he lay there, motionless.
Mark kicked him.
“Lover?” Of course James was gonna keep up the act. “O love, my soul hath been cleansed by the Holy Light! I am finally deserving of your affections! May you shower them upon me as you would any other divine being, my love! There may be a deity in your midst, but worry not, I will not report your sins to the Father, as I know you have good intentions. All that I require is that you worship me, friends! You may be asking yourselves, “Oh, Your Righteousness! How might we best serve thee?” and I thank you for your eagerness in proving your loyalty. Currently, the best way for you to carry out my will is for you to assist dear Seamus in decorating for JamesDay, the newest holiday during which you have to be kind to anyone you know who happens to be named James. Now run along, faithful subjects! Go and decorate for this most joyous occasion and report back to me once you’ve completed your tasks! Adieu!” With that, he turned on his heel and walked gracefully in the direction of the GIGN’s quarters, probably to undermine Mike’s attempts to seduce Gustave. Mark sighed and shook his head.
“So. Do we want to decorate, or do you want me to show you how to assemble a proper feast out of what we have?”
Seamus shrugged, indicating his neutrality, while Daisy was already insisting that they add extra black pepper to her father’s dish.
-
When James finally came back, everyone (including Mike, who had managed to succeed in securing a date with Gustave) was seated around the table, eating the fast-breaking feast and chatting about something or other. He pulled up a chair and forced himself between Mark and Daisy, thanking them for their charity in not preparing him a plate.
“Oi, we were waiting for you so it wouldn’t get cold, mate.” Mike scolded as Mark carefully started dishing him up a plate, signaling Daisy to distract her father so that he could oversalt the curry.
“Dad, why were you gone so long? Uncle Mike got here an hour ago!”
“Oh, sweetheart, I was just letting Dr. Kateb know he should watch himself around Uncle Mike, since Uncle Mike stans Margaret Thatcher, and is, therefore, an enemy of the people. Thank you, my love.” He smiled at Mark as his plate was set down before him, completely unaware of what awaited him.
He pressed a kiss to Mark’s cheek, then lifted a spoonful of curry to his mouth.