#but for now heres what i got

Do I have any right posting another AU when I have more than enough to work on? Will it stop me anyhow? Does any of this surprise anyone? I thought so.

This comes directly from when I was randomizing my writing blog recently and I came upon this prompt fill. That being said: I have no self control. XD

The Coal Hill Catchment Community Musical is having open auditions, and for one man’s niece and daughter, it’s a perfect opportunity to get him out of the house and doing something non-doctor-y for once. [2209 words; Whouffaldi-endgame community theater AU]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Can you? Please? Uncle Basil, I think this would be very good for us as a family!”

The grey-haired, middle aged man accepted the paper flier from across the table and furrowed his brows at it. It was an open call for auditions for a community-preformed musical based out of the secondary school, his niece grinning at him from over the casserole.

“Why?”

“We can spend time together,” his niece pouted. “You seem to have had less and less time for us since I got into secondary…”

“…and what is that supposed to mean, Dorothy?”

“Oooh, Dad got out the full name.” Basil glared at his daughter, who was sitting down with her own plate of food, and she recoiled with a laugh. “Just saying.”

“Alright then, Bill,Ace: please tell me why it is so important that I do this, despite the fact I am only ever not here because of my job.”

“Like I said: we’d get to spend more time together,” Ace shrugged. “I already signed up to do stage crew, and Bill and Heather are helping with costumes…”

“Heather is doing costumes—I don’t know if I’ll be co-opted into hair and makeup or as part of the cast.”

“…and anyone extra I bring is extra credit for my Humanities class, and you know how much I hate Humanities and it hates me.”

“You know that this will cut into time at work,” Basil stated.

“You’ve held down enough for two-and-half full-time jobs between us and the hospital for two decades,” Bill replied. “I think the staff will understand if you want to not be on-call for a bit. Spend some quality time with the family. Take a semi-vacation. Do something silly for once.”

“Billie, I am not in the mood for silly… at least that much of it.”

Bill and Ace both grinned at that—ha, so he thought.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was late Saturday morning in the auditorium, with Basil being all but dragged into the fray by his niece and daughter. The large room was a roaringly raucous environment, where there were plenty of people running around, from some adults all the way to some kids in lower secondary. Bill and Ace placed a thin practice script in Basil’s hands and gave him large grins accompanied by enthusiastic thumbs-ups. He scowled at the paper, completely unamused.

“‘The Music Man’?” He glared at his girls over the rims of his glasses, which he was glad he remembered to pocket before leaving the house. “You didn’t tell me that there’d be singing.”

“Just a little bit, and your voice is amazing!” Ace insisted.

“Whythis, of all things?” he replied. “Who was put in charge of figuring out the playbill?”

“That would be me,” answered another adult, this one closer to his age. She was short and squat, with a sour face, clutching a clipboard in her hand. After giving Basil a look-over—he was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, as well as having refused to take off his hoodie—she pointed over towards a group huddled in the corner. “Go there first, and let me see how you fare.”

“Are you the director?”

“I am the everything,” she insisted. She looked at Ace and raised an eyebrow. “This is your uncle?”

“Yeah—I told you I was serious about that extra credit,” the teen replied, trying to play it cool. “Can you please sign that form now…?”

“Not until after casting,” the Everything said firmly. At that, Bill and Ace brought their adult over to his designated waiting area and had him stand there, reading over his sample lines. Most of the other men standing there—and it did seem like men, or that they were at least in the process of casting all the traditionally masculine roles—were teenagers and uni kids, with the occasional washed-up and pathetic-looking middle-aged man that only made things worse. It made him feel like a tit standing there, surrounded by kids the same ages as his niece and daughter, but hey, it could have been loads worse, right…?

Right…?

After being called on to read some lines for a few different characters, none of whom he felt entirely interested in portraying, Basil was allowed to roam freely as the Everything worked on casting the extras. He found his daughter in the back of the stage with her girlfriend, fitting one of the other actors for her costume. She looked to be in her early thirties, and definitely not the sort who was still clutching onto the glory days for as long as she possibly could. Did she have a young cousin or neighbor, perhaps? Certainly she was not here because she had a child old enough to be in the chorus…

“So you’re here for someone’s extra credit too, aren’t you?” he asked, hands jammed in his pockets. The woman glanced over at him and shook her head.

“No—I’m one of the teachers over at Coal Hill. They asked if I could help out and drum up some interest in the student population. I also help verify said extra credit.”

“You don’t remember Miss Oswald, because she first came in teaching levels younger than me and Ace didn’t have her for Lit,” Bill explained. She then looked from the teacher to her father and back. “Oh, yeah, Miss Oswald, this is my dad, Basil Potts. His brother is Ace’s dad—that’s how we’re cousins.”

“…and you’re not a McShane yourself?”

“What can I say? I was having a tiff with the folks around when I got hitched, but then again, so was my brother when he married,” he shrugged. “Most people call me the Doctor, though. Surgeon. St. William’s.”

“Then call me Clara.” She flinched and glanced over at Heather. “Be more careful, please.”

“Oh, sorry Miss Oswald,” Heather cringed. “I’m still not used to doing this on a live person yet. The pins can be tricky.”

“That’s alright… just… I want to have all of my blood in my body and not on the dress.” Clara then turned back towards Basil, who seemed to be watching Heather. “So, did the Almighty Director give you a role yet?”

“No—she’s being too cagey,” he frowned. “I don’t even remember the characters I read for—it’s been so long since I last saw this thing…”

“Not a musical fan?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, not with all my patients and raising the two most insane hellions to pass through Coal Hill,” he shrugged.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Bill frowned.

“…but do you deny it?” His daughter paused and then shrugged at that. “I thought so.”

“That does explain a lot,” Clara quipped. “It must mean that the man who raised them must have plenty of energy to keep up.”

“Some days, I don’t even know how I manage,” he admitted. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Bill and Heather attempting to hide their faces and laughter. “What…?”

“Dad, you’re a terrible flirt,” Bill claimed. Basil scowled at that.

“I wasn’t flirting!”

“Then explain what you were doing just now during that conversation.”

“You live in my house; I can still ground you.”

At that reminder, Bill immediately quieted, which only caused Clara to chuckle instead.

“I’m taken, for the record,” she claimed. “Mister Pink—I believe Ace had him for maths a couple years ago.”

“Yes, I remember; looked nearly ready to die of exhaustion on Parents Night.”

“That’s likely the one,” she confirmed. Heather tapped on her shoulder and helped her off the stool she was standing on. It was jarring, seeing her so short compared to him—must have been nearly a foot’s difference. “I need to get out of this thing. See you at the casting announcement.”

“Likewise,” Basil nodded. Once Clara and Heather had turned the corner, the older man glared at his grinning daughter. “Stop it, you.”

“Stop what…?”

“She’s seeing someone, and I plan on not seeing anyone,” he clarified. “If you and Ace think that me participating in this play means that something at home is going to change, then you’ve got another think coming.”

“Well, she does have a lot of chemistry with everyone, so I guess it’s not too much a stretch that she was just being friendly,” Bill noted, “but that still doesn’t change the fact that you suck at flirting and need to up your game.”

“I need to up nothing,” he insisted. “Now let’s see if we can sneak out to the bakery across the street for a couple sausage rolls before the cast is announced.”

“…and leave Ace here?”

“We can bring some back for her too, now come on, before the Everything decides she wants me to audition for Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, late that afternoon when all the day had been sucked up, there was plenty of casting decisions that made the group of people scratch their heads as the Everything announced the results after their break. The Mayor and his wife turned into the Mayor and her wife, the sidekick character ended up being a disturbingly egg-shaped man whom no one else seemed to want there, while the leads…

“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for: the two main characters in this production,” the Everything nearly giggled. Basil glanced over at his niece and raised an eyebrow.

“She always like this?”

“Only when she thinks she found something spectacular… which admittedly is a lot,” Ace snarked. They watched as the Everything nearly exploded in excitement.

“This year’s two leads are: Miss Clara Oswald as Marian Paroo and Doctor Basil Potts as Harold Hill!”

A weight dropped in Basil’s stomach as the room began politely clapping for the two awarded the leads. He had read lines for the male lead…? And he actually got it…? How…? Was this a trick? He could feel himself growing paler as he was urged to step towards the Everything, who made a show of handing him a thick, heavy script.

“Congratulations, Doctor Potts,” the Everything grinned. “Raw talent like yours only comes around once in a blue moon, and I do believe we are due for another wonderful performance!”

“Yeah,” a teenaged boy scoffed, “you just like looking at his bum and danglers.”

Most of the school-aged participants—and a few of the adults—snickered at the claim. The Everything’s face grew deep red in anger, as she was now beyondcross.

“Alright! Who said that?! You are going to be booted to ushering so quickly your head will spin!” She stormed off in the direction of the voice, while it seemed as though Basil was almost instantly forgotten, standing there in the middle of everything.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of one another for the next few months, aren’t we?” He glanced to the side and saw Clara giving him a nudge with her elbow. “Could be worse—you and The Egg could have swapped roles.”

“That’s true,” he admitted absentmindedly. He looked at the script in his hands and frowned. “If we were going to do one of these things, the least she could have done was gotten something from this side of the Atlantic…”

“Now listen up, everyone!” the Everything said, clapping her hands together to grab attention from those whom she lost. “We are going to start practicing in one week! In that time, I need you to read over your lines, begin to learn your songs, and get ready to learn come choreography! Most of you should be able to gather some clips off of the internet, however, the principals should have sheet music in the back of their scripts…”

“So that’s why it’s so heavy,” Clara mused. Basil flipped towards the back of the stack of papers to find that there was a lot of music… even for something that was called The Music Man. As he browsed, memory of watching the film version of the musical came flooding back to him; he had literally been conned by his children into being cast as a con artist.

He had been conned into playing a con.

Now, the only trick was to not let his coworkers realize what was going on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later that night, as Bill and Ace sat on the couch and watched a movie version of the musical together, Basil sat up in his room with the script and sheet music. He read over his lines doused in highlighting pen, examined the meter of the music, and, once he became engrossed enough, pulled out his old guitar to hum along to as he figured out the score. It was taxing to go over something that he hadn’t seen in a long time, using the guitar to help guide him where it could. He figured it would all be worth it, though, as it meant doing something with his kids that wasn’t just making dinner and leaving halfway through a film because his pager went off.

Downstairs, his daughter and niece looked at each other and grinned mischievously—Doctor Basil Potts was actually getting into their family project, and with any luck, there would be someone else frequenting the house by the production’s final curtain call.