Oh im enjoying writing this too much to not share with you all. Watching the show back, there are quite a lot of interesting details let slip about Guys past that I think are fic-worthy. Here goes...



It was late at night; Caroline Todd and Guy Secretan – housemates, colleagues, friends, yet not lovers much to Guy’s consternation; were slumped together on their living room sofa, a bottle of gin filling the space between them.

“You really don’t want to know” sighed Guy dramatically

“I do! Tell me Guy. Come on, I promise I won’t castrate you the moment you show some sort of emotional depth”

“Mac might”

“Well maybe, he is quite handy with a scalpel. But you can trust me, and if not me, you can always confide in Gordon” Caroline waved the bottle of gin in front of Guys face and he brushed it away in irritation.

“Alright. We’ll start from the very beginning then”

Caroline grinned and burst into song enthusiastically “A very good place to start”

“Don’t start quoting musicals at me! Isn’t this situation already gay enough?”

“Okay sorry, I’m listening, please go on”

“Right well, you know perfectly well how it all began, with that bitch Joanna Clore, or Joanna Pearson as she was back then…”


Thirty-three years earlier…


Joanna stumbled on up the hillside hurriedly, slipping slightly on the icy concrete path as she went and pulling her ski jacket about herself more securely to keep out the biting wind. She was sick to death of the cold, feeling like the tips of your fingers had detached themselves from your body, constantly shivering so badly that even the simplest task, such as applying the fifth layer of mascara, became a daunting prospect. Not that she’d felt like wearing make-up much these past 10 months.

She paused briefly to glance at her watch, Swiss-made, she thought with a bitter twist of humour. It was just after 5am. Fine, nobody would be around until 6, which should leave plenty of time for her to make a hasty escape. The taxi to the airport was booked and, she predicted, she would be enjoying her second coffee and 24th fag in the departure lounge long before anyone discovered…

Joanna gazed down at the bundle of blankets wrapped tightly in her arms. A tiny nose peeped out at her from underneath its woollen shroud, a faint cry lost on the wind of the ski slopes. With a cautious finger, Joanna touched the satin-soft skin of the baby’s cheek, wiping away a fleck of snow gently. She shook her head to rid it of any foolish adolescent sentimentality. For christ sakes this was the best thing for the baby, she couldn’t exactly look after it, what with her GCSE’s coming up and her parents going through a messy divorce battle, she felt in the way enough as it is without this…this thing on her hands. Besides, Fabian was older, more responsible, and pretty well off if his sports car was anything to go by. He said he had a speedboat too. She also vaguely remembered him mentioning something about his wife not wanting any children, so really, Joanna was doing him a favour, giving him a final parting gift before she returned home.

Reaching the entrance to the Gstaad Prestige Ski School she placed the baby carefully under the shelter of the entrance porch before turning away without hesitation. Nervous now, in case anyone should hear her footsteps creaking in the snow, or, god forbid, a newborns howl out on the porch, Joanna crept away to a safe distance before turning back. But no lights had been turned on, no voices raised in exclamation - all was as silent and still as before. She’d done it! Nine months of worrying, of isolation, of panic attacks and it was all over. With a sense of freedom filling her throat and almost choking her with its intensity, she began at first to walk, then jog away from the school towards the main road, where the taxi driver would probably be waiting for her. Suddenly grinding to a halt, she spun back around and squinted at the already-distant building where she could just about make out a minute shadow motionless in front of the doorway.

“Good luck” she whispered quietly.

Ooooh! I love it already...very interesting idea. can't wait to read more :D

Ohh good idea - look forward to reading more :D

Yay, new fic! I'm looking forward to reading more of this.

Ahh interesting idea Hollie!
More soon please!! :D

ooh i like it!! awww joanna does have semtimentality... deep deepdeep down.

and i luv caro and guys lively banter too!

love it!!!!

guy's backstory is always a good fic topic, and i love your writing style hollie. :D

Anothe HolliePingPong ficcy! Yayness!

I love it already - the line 'Isn't this situation already gay enough?' is now my MSN tagline :lol:

:notworthy for your writing, which I always adore (as you know)

One thing though - wouldn't Joanna be going back to do O-levels or GCEs because she's too old to do Gucksees?

Well ta very much my lovelies. Umm Nadie i think joanna was meant to be in switzerland being all pregnant at 15...so i worked out that she would either be 16 or almost 16 at this point so still in GCSE year. Then again thinking it over i doubt she would have had time to work much towards the exams!!




The man from the adoption agency popped his head back round the door and smiled encouragingly at an extremely anxious-looking couple, one of whom was perched on the very edge of her seat, gripping on to it so viciously that her knuckles were not only white, but that her fingernails had actually sunk into the fabric of the chair; the other pretended to read a local newspaper in an attempt to appear unconcerned, oblivious to the fact that his newspaper was both upside-down and three months out of date.

“Mr and Mrs Secretan? You can come in now, they’re ready for you.”

The couple jumped in fright, and were ushered from the waiting room with pale faces and tight lips. The adoption agency official, a Mr. Armend Lehmann, showed them to their seats where they faced the formidable matriarch of the orphanage Helga Zimmerman. Helga had run the Berne orphanage for 20 years, and saw it as her life’s work to make every happy couple as miserable as she was by unloading troublesome orphans on to them and getting the little brats out of her nice clean facility as soon as possible.

“So, French I take it” Helga spat noisily behind the desk. “Always the same, always here with your little garlic strings and your Ooh la la Geneva’s.”

“Pardon me Ma’am but we’re all Swiss citizens here are we not?” retorted Stephane Secretan in annoyance, it was moments like this that made him homesick for Lausanne.

“Quite.”

Eyeing the unusually short man with his patchy pepper tinted moustache with a look of frank dislike upon her bulging features, Helga motioned for her assistant to enter the room. “Hans! HANS! Where are you, you cretin. Could you bring in Guillaume please? Sometime this week might be useful”

The assistant reappeared out-of-breath ten minutes later holding a very young child, no more than a few months old in his arms, who was screaming vigorously and determinedly. Hans loitered by the doorway, uncertain of what to do next.

“Well go on then! Do I have to do everything for you? Pass it to the future parents!”

Looking rather shell-shocked at being addressed as ‘parents’ the Secretan’s did not move from their seats for a moment and there was an uncomfortable pause as each person in the room battled to turn awkwardness into action. Suddenly, Marie Secretan got to her feet and gathered the baby into her arms. The still-bawling infant opened his eyes in shock at this turn in events. He gazed at the woman before him in wonder and promptly forgot how to cry. Marie rocked the child gently in her arms, her chestnut curls framing an almond-shaped face and brilliant green eyes, the baby made a grab for a shimmering locket of hair that swayed over him, taunting him.

Hans looked at the pair agog. “That’s the first time he’s stopped screaming in a week. I swear it still carries on in his sleep!!”

But Marie wasn’t listening. She gazed down at the baby boy in awe, so small and alive and perfect, and she smiled gently “Hello Guillaume, nice to meet you. I’m your new mother.”

I think Sinead was saying that GCSE's hadn't been invented when Joanna was in school.
Great installment, anyway. I love baby Guy.

Aww bless hehe!

More soon Hollie!! :D

Oh yes...i am an idiot :blush please forgive me

Yup Joanna would have definately been taking O Levels in those days ;)

I love the idea of a baby Guy when he was still sweet and innocent :)

:notworthy :notworthy :notworthy

oh my gosh that was fabby i loved every second of it hollie yu are ledgend this is soo damn good already I soo can't wait for more

i want baby guy. he's just TOO CUTE!!!! :wub:

Yay just caught up. I heart this fic Hollie!! Woop

Im glad your all enjoying it because heres more sickening cuteness! :)


He wanted that stuffed giraffe. He wanted it, and he was going to go and get it. Determinedly, Guy pushed himself onto unsteady chubby little legs and staggered forward a little, swayed precariously, and fell flat on his face. He burst into noisy tears. At once, Marie came running through to the living room and swept him up in her arms, patting him sympathetically on the back while she checked for bruises.

“Its okay Gee…you’ll be alright. Look! Not hurt see! Come on it’s your first birthday today. Yes it is, your one whole year old today! So try not to go doing too many stunts and hurting yourself, or you’ll have plasters all over your face in the photos! And that might be embarrassing in a few years time…What is it? What do you want?”

“Ugooo!” Guy gestured frantically towards the abandoned giraffe “UGO!”

“You want Hugo? Clever boy! I’ll go and get him for you. Stay there alright? No crawling off while my backs turned!”

But Guy was quite content to curl against the sofa leg and suck his thumb, just the sound of his mothers voice was enough to calm him down, and she was here, and soon Hugo would be here, and everything was right with the world. He fell asleep.

aww that was total cuteness oh bless lovely guy :wub: i love this hols it rocks my socks

one.... two... three... AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWw and thank god, we need fluffiness in this godforsaken angst hole of a forum.... ah, who'm i kidding, i love the drama too. But HUGO omg hes just the sweetest ever!!!

Damn and here was me thinking Guy would be the sort of child who didn't walk til he was at least 2 :rolleyes:

Yeah, sorry for pointing that out :blush

Still, I lub it. He is a cutie. Makes me sad that I know Marie has to die soon, though....

Lol IMO i looked that up specially to check it was possible in case you told me off in all your child-related knowledge. And hes an extremely intelligent boy and fast learner :P

Nadie stop giving plot lines away! People might not have realised!

Ooooh yes it's one of my areas of expertise - along with O Levels and how much chocolate you can eat before feeling sick :)

La la la its 2am i should be writing essay but am cheerful enough to post more :) Sorry to ruin fluffiness!


“Woah woah WOAH there” Caroline waved her arm energetically and looked confused when she smacked herself on the nose. “Ow. I thought you didn’t have a mother? You never told me anything about Marie!”

Guy turned a little pink and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well she died when I was only two, and I don’t…don’t really remember much about her to be honest. Just now and then, I see someone in the street who I think looks a bit like her, has, I dunno her walk or the way she threw back her hair when she laughed and…” Guy trailed off.

Caroline grasped his hand gently and stroked it with her thumb “And…”

“Sometimes I follow them a little way, just to see where they go, who they meet, what their life is like. But it’s never quite right. I can’t quite put my finger on who my mother was, I barely remember her face. But there’s something there”

“How did she die?”

Guys face paled “She was murdered”

:blink: :blink: :blink: :blink: :blink: :blink: :blink:

Murdered? Oh my! I can't wait to hear more of this, it's amazing.

dum dum dummmmmm!

sorry it was time for a dum dum dum moment

ooh i love this fic hols it rules :notworthy

*flip*

Ohhh my this is so lovely!!!
Your really not helping me though..i want a baby..a little cury haired baby!!
Murdered you say!! By who??

- flip

All I can think of is Sue saying MURRRRDDUUURRERD in a very scary way. This is awesome though Holbot woop!

No! hollie you made guy sad.


fix it now.


Love this with all my heart. especially 'ugoo' :D

:o murder i didnt expect that. Im incrediably hooked to this fic already haha

:o murdered? aww :(

more soon Hollieeee!

Sowwee Howwee!

Oh, I love it! though because of that deleted scene, I half expect Guy to be making it up lol

I know, its Muurrrrddeerrrrrrrr



Thirty-one years earlier…

It was 1.07am, but Stephane was still busy in his study, figures swimming drunkenly before his eyes as he rubbed them furiously, willing himself to stay awake. Marie had been in to visit him several times, bringing him cups of coffee and Ovalmaltine, and suggesting ever so subtly, that perhaps it was time that he should give up and go to bed. Yawning widely, he resigned himself to the fact she was probably right. As he leaned back in his solid oak chair and stretched tired muscles he suddenly became aware of a strange scraping noise outside his door.

Thinking it Marie, downstairs to fetch a drink, or to complete some mundane task that could easily have waited until the morning but would be playing on her mind and preventing her from sleeping, Stephane opened the door and wandered into the hallway. There, he froze. The scraping scratching sound was much louder now, yet the hallway was in darkness. His wife must be upstairs asleep, so what on earth was making the noise? Without thinking, he grabbed a weighty candlestick - the nearest object to hand that looked even vaguely threatening, and crept towards the front door of the house.

To Stephane’s eternal horror there was a sudden Crack! And Shatter! Of broken glass and voices filled the corridor, echoing harshly to each other, whispering of treasures, riches and family jewels. He threw himself back into the shadow, trying to stifle heavy breathing and keep himself hidden until the intruders came in sight. Before he knew it they were everywhere, masked, all in dark clothes, slightly scruffy with heavy boots leaving muddy imprints over Marie’s precious cream shagpile carpet. Funny the things your mind focuses on at times like this, but all Stephane could think about was the welfare of that bloody carpet, and what Marie might say when she saw it in such a state. He quivered in the glare of her imaginary wrath. And then he went for them.

Suffice to say, being a fairly studious banker, Stephane Secretan had never been the aggressive type, and despite the element of surprise he had over the thieves, he was quickly overpowered and one jaw-jarring punch sent him spinning to the ground where he fell unconscious almost immediately.

A few of the burglars returned with items, trinkets of some value. But they were merely accomplices. Only their leader, who had been planning this mission carefully for months and was actually a distant relation of the Secretans, disowned from the family due to his previous behaviour, and thus disowned from much of the wealth he believed it was his right to inherit, knew better. He led the way to the first floor, creeping across carpeted staircases, reducing all noise to a bare minimum to avoid waking others in the household. But it was too late. As the thieves headed for the first door upon reaching the landing the house was flooded with light and Marie Secretan stood there resplendent in her dressing gown and loose flowing curls, with a baseball bat clutched firmly in her left hand.

“What the hell do you think your doing” This wasn’t a question, this was cold hard fact.

Swinging the bat to face her potential burglars, Marie quickly moved across to shield the doorway which they had been heading towards. The one which contained the priceless figure of her sleeping son.

“Get out of my house. Get out now, and I won’t call the police for five minutes after you have left”

The burglar considered this proposal. He had wasted too much time, too much effort and practically all his resources to give up now, not when he was so close to regaining what was rightfully his. He took a step closer, feeling the cold hard glint of a knife in his pocket - he had nothing left to lose.

Oh I got confused for a minute - was reading Stephane as Stephanie. :rolleyes: Loved the way you've got the original name for Olvaltine in there :thumbsup

Woop woop drama !!!

oooh i like how his mum was stronger than his dad haha

Marie is a redhead...standing over her son's cot to bprotect him...

HARRY POTTER OVERTONES!

That was written rather well, dear Hollie!

Overtones...or nicked the whole plot. One of the two ;) More later, will have to get writing as Im catching up with myself

actually thought you had seplet ovaltine wrong there hollie, i didn't know it was it's original name.

And NOOO!!!! Marie can't die! she has the same name as a secretan in my fic.!!!!

coincidence, no?

This is very sad, but i was looking up stuff about Switzerland on Wiki and found out thats what they still call Ovaltine there! So its a geographically correct and historically accurate drink :lol: :blush oh im a freak

And that name thing is a coincidence! *puts away binoculars and runs away from charlottes house*