Title: Bluebirds Fly
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon [Pete/Patrick, Alex/Ryland, Frank/Gerard, Tom/Keltie, Gabe/William, and a few surprises]
Disclaimer: I wish this had happened, omg.
Summary: The KATU news station is getting a new anchor. Resident meterologist, Brendon Urie, is beyond excited, but a new anchor is not all that is in store for the station.
A/N: some of you might recognize this as the Weatherman!Brendon fic I rambled about a few months ago. This will be posted weekly on Mondays, so happy Monday!
“Did you hear the rumor?”
“Oh, Brendon, why are you such a gossip?”
“Because you’re my enabler,” Brendon declared, a grin on his face and a pile of papers in his hands.
Keltie sighed and gave him tired but fond look. “I’m not an enabler. I’m a newscaster.”
“And I’m a meteorologist. What does that have to do with anything?”
Keltie rolled her eyes. She was supposed to be in front of the camera in less than five-minutes, but Brendon had pulled her away to whisper yet another rumor in her ear. She could swear there were more rumors floating around the station than there were clouds in the sky. Of course, that wasn’t saying much since there were never clouds in the Phoenix sky.
Brendon stared at her, his big brown eyes pleading for her to listen to his bit of gossip he had before they were both herded to the stage.
“What is it?” Keltie asked finally, and Brendon bounced up.
“You know how Brent’s leaving?”
Keltie rolled her eyes. “Everyone in this state knows that he’s leaving, Bren. He made it pretty clear when he announced it Live before he even told the producers.”
“Right, right,” Brendon muttered. “Anyway, I heard a rumor of who we might be getting as a replacement.” He stared at her excitedly, waiting for her to ask who it was.
“There’s this guy in Florida who’s apparently the best newscaster in the East. I think his name was Bob or Bill or—”
Keltie scoffed. “Brendon, you’re wasting my time.”
Brendon just frowned as he tried to remember the name. He’d heard Pete talking about it to Patrick earlier, but he hadn’t caught the name. Or maybe they’d been talking about something else. Brendon had been a little wrapped up in the possibilities of monsoons that evening and hadn’t been paying close attention.
As it was, Keltie merely rolled her eyes and hurried back to the stage, having her makeup touched-up as she sat behind the desk, shuffling the papers that were really only for show in front of her, and sneaking glances to her co-anchor, Brent, who had a sort of gloating smirk on his face.
It was Brent’s last day news casting for KATU news in Phoenix. Hardly anyone could say that they were truly disappointed to see him go, but several did worry about his replacement. Brendon was among them.
He just sighed, though, as Keltie hurried away, and glanced down at his papers. It was all his research from that afternoon that he had to explain in a few moments.
“Something wrong, Bren?”
A strong arm slung over Brendon’s shoulder and he looked over to see their sportscaster standing beside him, a friendly smile on his face.
“No.” Brendon sighed. He turned to the man next to him, eyeing his flop flops under his suit for a second. “Who do you think we’ll get as a replacement, Jon?”
Jon shrugged. “Hopefully someone who can read the teleprompter,” he joked.
“What if we get someone like…” Brendon trailed off, biting his lip and glancing at the bright stage area where Brent sat like a peacock on a perch and Keltie refrained from rolling her eyes as the countdown to live began. “You know.”
Jon followed his gaze and sighed. “Don’t worry. The producers will get someone good. Pete’ll make sure of it.” He paused. “Speaking of Pete, he’s gonna hurt his arm pretty soon if you don’t get into position.”
Brendon glanced up to see Pete, the director, gesturing violently to the blue screen he was supposed to be standing in front of as Patrick counted down to one and clicked on the camera. Brendon hurried away from Jon without another word as Keltie began.
“Good evening, Phoenix, I’m Keltie Colleen, and welcome to the six o’clock news on KATU, channel two, Phoenix. Our first story tonight…”
Brendon wasn’t listening as he scrambled into his area and heard the inevitable groan as Pete caught sight of him.
He was wearing a bright blue shirt and knew full well that it would disappear once the blue screen clicked on. Brendon just grinned. It was fun, he thought, to be merely a floating head in the middle of the state of Arizona.
“And now for a look at the weather,” Brent said, his voice sounding smug and forced as he turned towards Brendon. “We go to our very own meteorologist, Brendon Urie. What’s it look like out there, Brendon?”
Brendon forced a polite smile as Brent’s eyes lingered on him. “Well, Brent, it looks like we’re in for more than a few drops of rain.”
He turned from him as he clicked the clicker and began walking the city through his forecast. Clouds were coming in from the south, from Mexico, and bringing monsoons.
“It’s going to be concentrated in the southern part of city, down around Mesa, but the winds are moving fast and even northern parts of Scottsdale can look forward to a brief respite from these temperatures we’ve been experiencing lately.” He smiled winningly at the camera, even winking once. He saw Brent roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye, but ignored him. The viewers loved Brendon’s smile and Pete said it got better ratings for the station.
“Thank you, Brendon,” Keltie said once he’d finished and brought the camera back to her with a sparkling smile. “Well, it looks like things are going to heat up outside, but what about on the court? We go to our handsome sportscaster, Jon Walker, for an update on those Suns of ours.”
Jon was standing on another camera stage to the left of the main stage and grinned at Keltie’s compliment.
“Well, the upset over the Suns’ new coach after the end of the season isn’t looking so hot, Keltie,” he started, turning to his own little projector and talking his way through the games.
Brendon left his post and set down his clicker, sidling over to where Patrick had his camera pointed at Jon while he talked about tournaments and things Brendon didn’t understand.
“So who’s replacing Brent?” he asked casually, innocently, as he stared at the table filled with water and fruit in the corner.
Patrick didn’t even glance up at Brendon’s question. “I don’t know.”
“But you talked to Pete about it. I heard you.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, focusing the camera in further. “We were talking about the food delivery guy.”
“He’s the new anchor?”
“No!” Patrick sighed and turned to Brendon for a second. “Brendon, why don’t you just wait and see who it will be?”
Brendon frowned. “But that’s no fun when you or Pete could just tell me.”
Patrick waved him away as Jon’s piece ended and they swung back to Keltie and Brent at the news desk. Keltie was glancing at Brent, but turned back to the camera.
“On that note, I’m afraid that tonight, we must let go of one of our crew.”
The cameras swiveled to Brent, who was trying his best not to look smug.
“Brent Wilson has been with KATU news for the past two years, and unfortunately, tonight is his last show. Brent, we are going to miss you here at the station. You’ve been like a brother to many and a friend to others.”
She was lying through her teeth, Brendon could see it. Everyone could see it. Jon, who was normally so good-natured, was frowning and had his arms crossed over his chest. Patrick was stoic as he centered the camera on the two of them.
“Well, Keltie,” Brent said, smooth as silk. He always had been. It was what had brought viewers to the news cast at first. “I’m going to miss you all, and all the viewers. I hope that my absence will cause no one pain.”
“Of course not,” Keltie assured him with a sincere smile. “We wish you all the best of luck.” She turned back to the camera. “Thank you for joining us tonight, Phoenix, and stay tuned for KATU news at eleven.”
The cameras clicked off and Pete called cut. Keltie let out a long breath and stalked away from the news desk, heading for her dressing table.
Patrick turned off his camera and swung around in his seat, catching Pete’s eye and exchanging a glance. Brendon watched and frowned. He knew they knew something that he didn’t.
Jon wandered over, clapping a hand on Brendon’s shoulder and grinning, ignoring Brent, who stood huffily and left the desk after no one even bothered to wish him goodbye for real.
“Maybe the next one will actually be able to pronounce Verde Valley,” he joked, elbowing Brendon in the side and dragging a laugh out of him.
Brendon hadn’t liked how the studio had been for the past few weeks since Brent had announced on live television that he was quitting the news station, leaving for a “better” opportunity in Florida somewhere.
It had been tense since then and hardly anyone spoke to Brent aside from when they had to. Brent had become snappy and had taken to rolling his eyes at anything anyone said.
Brendon sighed but smiled at Jon. “Maybe the next one will help me commandeer Patrick’s camera and film my experiments!”
Jon laughed. “I don’t think anyone would help you with those.”
Brendon pouted. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little rain?”
“No,” Jon replied. “I’m afraid of those poles you stick in the ground during monsoons and try to get hit by lightening.”
“I’m measuring the density!” Brendon cried. No one ever believed him.
“Uh huh.” Jon nodded, though it was clear he didn’t believe Brendon. “Either way, when it rains, I’m staying inside with the game on.”
“Speaking of the game,” came another voice from behind them, and both Jon and Brendon turned around to see one of the research writers standing behind them, his eyes narrowed and his hands on his hips. “You didn’t read what I wrote.”
“Yes, I did,” Jon replied calmly, and Brendon glanced between the two. It was a known fact that Spencer Smith and Jon Walker were constantly fighting about what Jon had or had not said.
Spencer maintained that Jon didn’t follow his script. Jon would just shrug and claim that he did, just in his own way. Spencer always seemed to get on top, though, no matter how hard Jon tried, or didn’t try, to stop him.
“Right, so the Suns lost to the Lakers on Tuesday, yeah, but did they also, and I quote, ‘deflate the season faster than a punctured basketball’?”
“Of course they did,” Jon responded with a smile. “Did you watch the game?”
Spencer just glared more. “I’m the writer, Walker, and you read what I say. I don’t do all that research so you can blow it off and pretend you know anything about sports.”
“You don’t know anything about sports.”
Spencer huffed, taking a step forward and poking Jon in the chest. “You read what I wrote, or I take this to the producers. You got that? I’m not playing games, Walker. I’m the fucking writer and you’re the face. Got it?”
Then he stalked off, leaving Jon staring after him.
“Why do you put up with him?” Keltie asked suddenly, appearing behind them.
Jon just shrugged. “Writers. Have to give them creative license, right?”
Keltie rolled her eyes. “At least my writer likes me.”
“Your writer thinks you’re hot and wants to fuck you,” Jon pointed out.
Keltie ruffled herself, looking haughty. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay,” Jon continued. “How about we go down to the writing studio and ask Tom himself?”
Keltie just blushed and glared. “Or we could talk about how you let Spencer walk all over you and you do nothing to stop it. You could talk to Pete, you know.”
Jon shrugged. “Nah. It’s more fun to watch Spencer this way.”
Keltie shook her head and Brendon glanced between the two.
“So… who do you think the new anchor will be?”
Brendon didn’t get to find out who the new anchor would be until the next afternoon when Pete gathered them all for a meeting. Brendon bounced in his seat next to Jon, his leg moving up and down until Jon put a firm hand on his knee. Brendon sent him a pleading look. He needed to know.
Across the table, Spencer was scowling at them, but he was ignored by Jon. The rest of the writers were sitting around him, their attention placed firmly on Pete at the front. The correspondence newscasters were whispering together. Some had been angry when they weren’t automatically asked to fill Brent’s spot.
“All right,” Pete said, quieting the muttering in the room. All heads turned to him as he began to speak. “So, I suppose it’s obvious that we’re getting a new co-anchor for the station.”
Brendon perked up, sitting up straight, his leg finally falling still and Jon removed his hand, placing it on top of the table.
“Who is it?” he asked eagerly, scooting forward as far as he could go until he was leaning over the table. Beside him, Keltie rolled her eyes fondly.
“He’s an up-and-coming news anchor out of Las Vegas, and we’re very fortunate to have landed him.”
“Landed him?” Jon spoke up. “Is he a fish?”
The rest of the room chuckled quietly except Spencer, who merely glared.
“No,” Pete said. “But he is pretty slippery. It took a bit of talking to get him to come out here.”
“Did you tell him about all the girls injected with silicon?” Jon asked, grinning at Pete, who rolled his eyes and ignored the question, though Brendon was sure he would laugh about it with Jon later. They were pretty good friends considering Pete was his boss.
“Anyway. I waited to tell you all because for a while, we weren’t sure he was even going to say yes. But now that he has, you should all meet him.” He walked to the door to the staffroom and stuck his head out. When he came back, he was accompanied with a thin man whose brown hair fell into his eyes. He looked a little nervous as they all stared at him. “Everyone, meet Ryan Ross, our new anchor.”
Brendon’s eyes lit up as they landed on Ryan and he was the first out of his chair to introduce himself.
“Hi!” he cried excitedly, holding out a hand and shaking Ryan’s eagerly. “I’m Brendon Urie, resident meteorologist, or Brendon the Babe Magnet, as my fans like to call me.” He winked loudly at Ryan, who looked taken aback.
Beside him, Jon snorted. “More like Brokeback Brendon, you mean.”
Brendon just pouted. “Well, I get more action than you do.” He turned to Ryan and smiled. “Jon’s the sportscaster.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ryan replied politely, thinking that he must have been crazy to accept this job.
Jon just smiled. “You follow sports at all?”
“Not really,” Ryan admitted, a little nervous at the way Brendon was staring at him.
“You’re awfully nervous for a newscaster,” Brendon piped up suddenly.
Ryan glanced over to where Brendon had his head tilted to the side, a curious expression on his face.
He was saved from answering, though, as Keltie elbowed Brendon out of the way.
“Ignore him,” she told Ryan, shooting him a look. “He’s just an overexcited weatherman.”
“Meteorologist!” Brendon called as Jon pushed him away so Keltie could introduce herself properly.
Brendon pouted as Jon pulled him over to where Pete was talking with a few of the on-site reporters.
“…Got good references and the crowd in Las Vegas seems to like him. You know we would have chosen one of you, but the producers are extremely picky and they’re worried about the station’s ratings after the whole Brent fiasco. They thought bringing in someone new would help freshen things up.”
Gabe just scowled. “So we’re not good enough for them?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Pete backtracked quickly. “Gabe, you’re an important facet to the station. You, and Greta, and Cassie. You’re all important to the station. That’s why we need you out there.”
Gabe didn’t look satisfied and merely shot a glance at Greta, one of the other correspondence reporters, who shared the look. Pete glanced between the two and sighed. “Come on, guys, give Ryan a chance. He’s a nice guy and hopefully he’ll pull the ratings up.”
Brendon stared. “Ratings are falling?”
Pete saw Brendon for the first time and grimaced. “Just down a little. Nothing to worry about, Bren. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Viewership will pick up.”
Brendon wasn’t reassured, but Pete managed to slip out before he could talk to him, and he turned instead to Jon, who was watching the group of writers across the room, all whispering to themselves. Spencer was muttering in a low voice to Bill while Tom listened in carefully.
“Jon,” Brendon whined, draping himself over his shoulders. “This makes me sad.”
Sighing, Jon turned from the group of writers and gave Brendon a fortifying smile. “Don’t worry. Things’ll be fine.” He paused, glancing around the room. “Hey, it’s Friday, how about we go out tonight? We’ll invite Ryan, make it like his welcome to the station. How’s that sound?”
Brendon beamed. “You are amazing, Jon Walker.” He hugged him tightly around the middle.
Jon just patted his head and smiled. “Yeah, yeah, go on and do your research. I’ll talk to Ryan.”
Brendon grinned again and left the room to do his research on the approaching monsoons, looking forward to that evening more than ever.