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The Complete Fic Directory
- All I Do Each Night Is Rehearse The Pray Routine
- Appendicitis
- An Act Of Un-Remembrance
- Beginnings
- Better Than Today - Kylie Minogue
- Black
- Breathe Out
- Christmas Shopping
- Choreography
- Dancers
- Dangling
- Days
- Default Settings/Do You Love Me? [Part One]
- Displacement Theory [Blue]
- DJ (I Could Be Dancing) - Alphabeat
- Enchanted
- Ends (Loose And Otherwise) [Ends]
- Enemies
- Family
- Fine Time To Lose Your Mind - Jack McManus
- Fireworks
- Flat Tyres And Palm Prints [Birth]
- Flu
- Friends: A Dictionary [Friends]
- From Angels To The Moon/The Soup
- Green Light [Green]
- Hell Raisers
- Home Invasion
- Hours
- In My Veins
- Insides
- It Was The Death Of Something [Death]
- Just Like Children [Children]
- Kiss And Make Up
- The Last Time
- Lonely At Christmas
- Love Songs
- Lovers
- Middles
- Midnight Sun
- Mistletoe
- Months Go By [Months]
- More Important Than Fear
- Muddied Stars [Brown]
- Not Enough
- Of Peacocks
- On The Subject Of Angels [Orange]
- Playing House [Parents]
- The Price Of Friendship
- The Prize
- Post-Match Analysis
- Puddles
- Red
- Secret Admirer
- Secret Agent Owen
- Shades
- Shine - Skies Of America
- Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
- Snap
- So Good To See You
- Stage Fright
- Stay (Oh Darlin')
- Study In Motion
- Summertime Feeling - S Club 7
- Sunrise
- Sunset
- Teammates
- That Night In Amsterdam/Do You Love Me? [Part Two]
- This
- Three Sets Of Three
- Twenty-Nine (And A Half)
- Under A Colourless Sky [Colourless]
- We Found Something That Belongs To You [Outsides]
- We Were Strangers Once [Strangers]
- Weeks
- What Did You Say This Time?
- What Will The Papers Say? [Purple]
- White Out [White]
- The Wordsmith/Breathe In
- Years
- Yellow
- Yesterday's Promise
- 3-0 Defeats
- Barlow's Music Shop Series
- Fanfiction Challenges
- The Postcard Prompts
- OT3, OT4 & OT5
- Stories By Band Member
- Stories By Ship
- Stories By Genre
- Stories By Era
- Band-Free AUs
- Prompt Requests
- Other Fandom Fics
- Follow Me
Secret Agent Owen
Gary jumped as something hit the back of his head. Looking around for what had hit him, he spotted a balled up strip torn from a matchday programme. Frowning he picked it up and unfolded it. Mark Owen’s distinctive scrawl was written in the corner of the page; ‘Gaz! HELP ME!’. Gary blinked, looking around him for a moment – he didn’t come with Mark and he definitely didn’t remember Mark saying anything about joining him at the match. Then another piece of balled up programme came hurtling towards the back of his head. Sighing and rolling his eyes slightly, Gary turned to pick it up, unfolding it to find Mark’s handwriting once more. ‘Gaz! LOOK UP!’. Gary raised an eyebrow, slowly lifting his gaze. Leaning over the wall above him, his scarf dangling down and his hair in his face, was Mark Owen.
“Marko – what the hell are you doing in the Arsenal boxes?!” Gary asked.
“SHHHH!” Mark gestured at him frantically to keep it down, almost losing his balance. Having narrowly avoided falling over the wall and down into the Liverpool hospitality area, Mark suddenly flapped and ducked down. Gary was about to ask him what the hell he was up to when he spotted the big screens out of the corner of his eye; of course they’d decided to cut to a celebrity in the crowd. Smiling awkwardly and trying to look anywhere but at the camera, Gary kicked the programme scraps away from him and folded his arms. Eventually the cameraman got bored and Gary turned around once more.
“Marko!” he called. The top of Mark’s head bobbed up above the wall, his eyes just visible over the edge. Gary bit back a laugh.
“Heya Gaz,” Mark called back, slowly standing up again and looking around nervously.
“Help you?!” Gary laughed.
“Yes!!!” Mark whined and Gary only chuckled harder.
“Have you turned Gunner on me or did Arsenal just invite you as a guest?” he smiled.
“Guest. I can’t celebrate anything Liverpool do. Gaz it’s killing me! You know how bad I am at sitting on my hands!!” Mark moaned, half slumping across the wall, his scarf dangling down once more.
“Serves you right then, you should have come with me!” Gary shrugged.
“I didn’t know you were coming!!” Mark pouted.
“Is that why you’re trying not to be seen? Hoping the Liverpool faithful won’t mistake you for a traitor and start burning your effigy down Albert Dock?” Gary teased. But his tease was short-lived, as suddenly Mark’s scarf was whipped off from round his neck and thrown, with force, into Gary’s face. But Gary couldn’t help it, he was still far too amused to stop chuckling and his chuckles only got harder as he saw Mark appear on the ground’s big screen, folding his arms and sulking for all he was worth.
“Marko – what the hell are you doing in the Arsenal boxes?!” Gary asked.
“SHHHH!” Mark gestured at him frantically to keep it down, almost losing his balance. Having narrowly avoided falling over the wall and down into the Liverpool hospitality area, Mark suddenly flapped and ducked down. Gary was about to ask him what the hell he was up to when he spotted the big screens out of the corner of his eye; of course they’d decided to cut to a celebrity in the crowd. Smiling awkwardly and trying to look anywhere but at the camera, Gary kicked the programme scraps away from him and folded his arms. Eventually the cameraman got bored and Gary turned around once more.
“Marko!” he called. The top of Mark’s head bobbed up above the wall, his eyes just visible over the edge. Gary bit back a laugh.
“Heya Gaz,” Mark called back, slowly standing up again and looking around nervously.
“Help you?!” Gary laughed.
“Yes!!!” Mark whined and Gary only chuckled harder.
“Have you turned Gunner on me or did Arsenal just invite you as a guest?” he smiled.
“Guest. I can’t celebrate anything Liverpool do. Gaz it’s killing me! You know how bad I am at sitting on my hands!!” Mark moaned, half slumping across the wall, his scarf dangling down once more.
“Serves you right then, you should have come with me!” Gary shrugged.
“I didn’t know you were coming!!” Mark pouted.
“Is that why you’re trying not to be seen? Hoping the Liverpool faithful won’t mistake you for a traitor and start burning your effigy down Albert Dock?” Gary teased. But his tease was short-lived, as suddenly Mark’s scarf was whipped off from round his neck and thrown, with force, into Gary’s face. But Gary couldn’t help it, he was still far too amused to stop chuckling and his chuckles only got harder as he saw Mark appear on the ground’s big screen, folding his arms and sulking for all he was worth.