Chapter Text
The Muppets were going on tour, and Scooter was buzzing with nerves. It would be a lot of work organizing it, but he was confident that Kermit would have everything under control. He just had to get ready for the trip, which was in…
He checked the train tickets Dominic had emailed them. His eyes widened. Six days? That was way too soon! In less than a week, he’d be in an entirely different country, a different continent, with nothing to do if he forgot something…
Deep breaths, he told himself. Freaking out wouldn’t solve anything. He could do this.
He sat down at his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. Clicking out his pen, he started making a list of everything he’d need to do before the train pulled out of the station. As the words flowed onto the paper, his mind untangled and the looming cloud of THINGS TO REMEMBER got smaller and smaller.
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Pack (clothes, chargers, etc)
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Tell neighbors about travel plans
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Get travel documents prepped
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Water plants…
A soft voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Hey, Scooter?”
Scooter grinned when he found the source of the voice. “Walter, hey!”
Walter waved. His smile dropped as he noticed the paper. “Sorry, I… are you busy? I can go, I don’t wanna distract you…”
“No, no, you’re fine. What can I do for ya?”
“O-oh, nothing. I just… wanted to see what you were up to.”
“What I’m up to?” Scooter carded a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing exciting, I’m afraid. Just planning for the tour, makin’ sure all my P’s and Q’s are in order…”
Walter stared at him, eyes wide. “But… that is exciting! You’re getting ready to travel the world, and you’re getting everything ready so you’ll have the best time possible!”
“Well, I suppose when you put it like that…” Gosh, Walter was cute when he got excited. He made all of Scooter’s nerves slip away just like that.
“Would you mind if I stay here for a bit? With you?” Walter asked.
“Course not!” Scooter said. “Might be nice to have some company.”
Walter smiled, grabbing a chair and sitting down. They slipped into a comfortable silence. The only sounds in the room wereScooter’s pen scratching on the paper and Walter’s leg restlessly bouncing on the floor.
“Scooter?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you… do you think Kermit’d put me in the show again?” Walter’s voice was so soft, Scooter could barely hear it.
He dropped his pen with a clatter. “Are you kidding? Everyone loved you! That whistling act, that was the freshest thing we’ve done in thirty years! Kermit would be crazy to not let you come back on.”
Walter looked down, but Scooter could see a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It was, like, the only thing you’d done in thirty years.”
“Well, be that as it may, you were still amazing,” Scooter said, grinning at him.
A soft blush dusted Walter’s cheeks. “Thanks, that’s—that’s really nice to hear.”
“Did you… enjoy it? Performing, I mean.”
“I… is that even a question? Yes! It was incredible. It was everything I’d imagined all my life… and more.” Walter smiled dreamily. “Y’know, when I came to LA, I was just hoping that I might get to see Kermit. And now, look at me. Part of the Muppets!”
Scooter’s heart melted at his unbridled enthusiasm. “That’s good. I’m… we’re all really happy to have you with us.” Sure, Kermit had gotten a little sick of Scooter’s rambling about how amazing the Muppets’ newest member was, but he hadn’t disagreed with him, and that was a win in Scooter’s book.
“You did some acts, right? Back in the day?” Walter asked.
Scooter’s cheeks got warmer. “I did, yeah. I wasn’t very good at it, though, not like you.”
“Don’t say that,” Walter said. He looked as firm as his felt face would allow him to. “You were incredible! You were so nice, so talented…”
“Well, gee, I… that’s very nice of you to say.” Scooter struggled to comprehend how someone could be so nice, all the time. Walter saw the best in everyone, no matter what.
“It’s the truth, is what it is.” Walter reached over, squeezing Scooter’s hand affectionately. He did it so casually, completely unaware of the tailspin that small action had sent his brain into. “When I was a kid, I’d watch old episodes of the Muppet Show on VHS. And I loved all of it—that’s why I’m here! But you know what my absolute favorite part was?”
“What?” Scooter asked.
Walter grinned at him, eyes bright. “My favorite part was when you were onstage. Even if it was just in the background! You stole the show every single time. I’d get distracted and have to rewind it, again and again and again. Gary’d get so mad when he was watching with me.”
Scooter blushed. The mental image of a younger Walter fighting with his brother over the remote was incredibly sweet.
“I think I actually broke the tape of the Mummenschanz episode, the one where you sang Mr. Bassman.” Walter giggled. “Boy, were the folks at the rental store mad.”
“Ah.” Scooter had really enjoyed that number, too. The mention of Mr. Bassman brought back fond memories of practicing with Floyd and the Electric Mayhem, making sure all the notes were perfect. Actually performing it onstage, after all that work they’d put into it, had been absolutely exhilarating.
“So, why’d you stop?”
“Well, I… I guess there were just so many new acts that showed up, and I didn’t mind all that behind the scenes work as much as everyone else seemed to. So I figured I’d just stay in the wings, helping everyone else put on a great show.”
“That’s really nice of you.” Walter was looking at him—at him—in awe.
Scooter looked down. He couldn’t make eye contact with him, he couldn’t. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Don’t put yourself down!” Walter said. “I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into making this show as amazing as it is. You’re essential to this operation, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Wow. This… was new. It had been a while since Scooter had actually been recognized for his role. He tried to be humble, but deep down inside, it really was a lot of effort. Walter had just met him, yet he could see through his happy persona down to the lonely Muppet within, desperate for validation from someone, anyone.
He felt tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them away. He couldn’t cry in front of his coworker; he’d never be able to look Walter in the face again. He pasted on a friendly smile, hoping his voice wouldn’t waver too much. “I suppose you’re right.”
Walter smiled shyly. “I was just thinking, I stepped outside my comfort zone that night, performed something I wasn’t sure I was ready to do. And I… had fun! I had the best night of my life, I’d felt happier than I’d ever felt before.”
Scooter remembered how ethereal he’d looked that night, stepping out into the dim blue lights of the stage, surrounded by twinkling stars. And then he’d started whistling and… His heart sped up just thinking about it.
“And I thought, Scooter, you deserve to feel that happiness, too. So maybe… maybe if you tried going onstage again, you’d… discover something new.”
His eyes looked so hopeful. Scooter’s cheeks turned pink; he just wanted to kiss that gorg—
His smile dropped.
Oh. Oh no.
This was bad. This was very very bad.
Scooter laughed nervously. It sounded incredibly fake to his own ears, but he hoped Walter would buy it. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve kinda got a lot to do…”
“Oh!” Walter sat up quickly. “O-of course. Sorry for taking up so much of your time. I’ll go.”
He rushed to the door, then stopped, turning around. “I—Bye.” He waved, cheeks pink.
Scooter gulped, then waved back, still avoiding looking him in the eyes.
With that, Walter closed the door behind him, leaving Scooter alone in his thoughts. He buried his face in his hands. Why’d he have to go and get a crush on Walter?
Well—he knew why. Walter was just the cutest, so kind and bubbly and excited about everything… there wasn’t really anything not to like about him. Scooter groaned, trying to will away the mental image of his smile.
He thought back to Walter’s words from before. ‘Discover something new.’ That did sound nice. It had been a while since he’d been on the stage, other than that one time at the telethon when he’d subbed in for Kermit.
If he was being honest with himself, he’d loved the rush of getting up on the stage. These past few years, he’d been pushing down the gnawing yearning to perform, to have fun, to let his hair down for once. He’d always felt like he had too much responsibility, and he couldn’t justify taking a day off being stage manager just so he could have a bit of fun.
Maybe Walter was right. Maybe he did deserve to feel that rush again.
He grinned, picked up his pen, and drew a neat line under his list of travel plans. Underneath, he wrote a new heading.
ACT IDEAS
Scooter knocked softly on the door to Kermit’s office. “Heya, boss.”
Kermit looked up from the mess of papers on his desk. “Scooter, hello! What’s up, got everything squared away for the tour? Any issues coming up?”
“No, no, everything’s fine,” Scooter said. “I came in to ask about something… different.”
“Oh, well, then… fire away.” Kermit leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Scooter remembered the day he’d finally convinced Kermit to get those office chairs. He’d had a blast spinning around until he was dizzy.
“I was thinking, maybe… Do you think, sometime during the tour, I could do an act?”
“You? An act? Scooter, the last time you performed was—”
“Decades ago, I know.” Scooter’s words came out in a rush. Maybe this was a bad idea. “But I thought it might be fun to do it again, y’know?”
“Hmm.” Kermit put a webbed hand on his chin. “Well, it’s not like it’d be any more dangerous than whatever Gonzo’s planning.”
Scooter winced in agreement. He’d walked by Gonzo’s desk a couple days ago, and seen his computer open to a tab googling ‘how much to ship cow to Berlin’.
“You know what? Sure, why not.”
Scooter’s jaw dropped. “Really? You mean it?” He couldn’t believe that all these years, he could’ve gone onstage again if he’d just… asked.
“Just… don’t overwork yourself, okay? I know you’ve got a lot to do already, I don’t want my assistant stage manager collapsing from exhaustion.” Kermit grinned at him, but there was a tinge of concern in his voice.
Scooter had been pushing himself pretty hard with the whole telethon thing. He practically missed working at Google; the endless crunch he’d dealt with there had left him with more free time than running the Muppet Show nearly by himself.
“I won’t,” he said truthfully. He knew his limits. Getting a bit less sleep every night wouldn’t hurt him that much; another coffee would fix him right up. Probably.
Kermit’s face scrunched, but he didn’t comment on it. “All right. I’m glad we had this talk. Feel free to do whatever you’d like—within reason, of course. Just let me know when you feel ready to do it, and we can figure out where to slot you in.”
“Thank you, chief. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“No trouble, no trouble at all. One thing, though—why the sudden interest in putting on an act?”
“Oh, I—” Scooter’s face heated up. He ran a hand through his hair, smiling softly. “Well, I was talking to Walter, and he thought… maybe I’d like to discover something new. And… I think I do.”
“I see.” Kermit tilted his head to the side and paused. “Walter seems to have… brought out a lot in you.”
“He—he has.” Scooter fought back the urge to call him sir; that formality had long since been done away with. He closed his eyes, heart racing.
“You two seem to have gotten along quite well.”
“I’m… sorry, I don’t quite know what you’re getting at,” Scooter lied. He wasn’t quite ready to open up about his feelings, not yet.
“All right.” Kermit cleared his throat. “If you ever do know what I’m getting at… my door’s open, all right?”
“Y-yes, of course.” Goodness gracious, when would this conversation be over?
“Walter… he’s a good kid. Looks up to you. Won’t shut up about how great you are.”
“I’m… aware.”
Kermit gave him a once-over. “All right. I suppose you probably have some things to take care of before we leave.”
Scooter didn’t, really; he’d gotten most of his stuff done ahead of time, but he knew an out when he saw one. His shoulders sagged. “Y-yeah, gotta… check on a few things, y’know?”
“Well, I’ll let you get started on that, then.” Kermit smiled at him, turning back to his paperwork. “You’ve checked everyone’s tickets?”
Oh, good. Business talk. Scooter could handle that. “Double and triple checked, yeah. There were some issues with Animal being classed as a pet, but we sorted all that out. We’re good to go!”
“Thank you, Scooter. You’ve been a really big help, and, well, I don’t know what I would have done without you,” Kermit said.
Scooter gave him a two-fingered salute. “It’s no problem, chief! I’m happy to help.”
“All right. Keep me posted on your act, okay?”
“Will do!” Scooter headed out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.
Once he was alone, he sighed contentedly, nervous tension evaporating from his body. That had gone… better than he’d thought it would, despite the whole awkward ‘I-know-you-have-a-crush-on-him” talk in the middle. Now he just needed to figure out what he was going to do.
At that moment, Rizzo walked by, carrying a boombox on his shoulder and walking along to the beat of the music blasting out of it.
Scooter sighed a bit louder than he intended to. “Rizzo, we’ve talked about this! Can you just please use some headphones?”
Rizzo rolled his eyes. “Cool it, dude. It’s not that loud.”
“Wh—We are in a theater, for crying out loud! People are rehearsing as we speak! It’s extremely distracting to everyone here, myself included.”
“Not like the Electric Mayhem’s much more distracting,” Rizzo muttered.
“Yeah, well, at least they’re rehearsing for something—”
The music changed to a jaunty pop melody. Scooter stopped midsentence, listening to the music. It was catchy, addictive… and was that a whistle?
“Rizzo… what’s that song?”
“You don’t know?” Rizzo raised an eyebrow. “It’s Moves Like Jagger, by Maroon 5. One of their catchier tunes, in my opinion.”
The lyrics kicked in. Scooter didn’t really pay attention to them. He just stood there, mouth agape, listening to the beat. It was fun, danceable, and didn’t seem too hard to learn—and that whistle. It could really, really work!
“Uhh…” Scooter was brought back to the world to see Rizzo staring at him. “So… can I just go, or…?”
“Uh, yeah, you can.” Scooter cleared his throat awkwardly, gears still turning in his head. If he got the Electric Mayhem on the main melody, and he could ask Wal—
“Cool. See ya.” Rizzo left before Scooter could protest that really, he should turn down the music. He sighed, but his mind was still aflutter with ideas.