I thought it'd be good to start writing Rock You fic again. Plus I had encouragement from xXGaGaGirlXx (Thank you). So this archive was born, a place for all my one-shots and WWRY shorts.

Disclaimer – I don't own We Will Rock You. Anything you recognise isn't mine. Any bohemians that may pop up that you don't recognise will be. I don't own the songs and lyrics that may or may not give these one-shots their titles either.

Warning – Just a heads up for strong language. You know what the bohemians are like. Especially Meat!

Yeah if the grammar's a bit wobbly, it's because I've literally just finished my huge drama essay – and I have no beta.


01. Let Them Know It's Christmas

It was unusual, to say the least, for the Heartbreak hotel to be quiet. It was even more unusual for the bohemians to be gathered together and quiet. But today wasn't an ordinary day. As Prince and Cliff had been out 'on the scavenge' as they put it; they had come across something new – something wonderful. Pop had described it as a radio, and after much fiddling around, he had even made it work.

The radio burst into life as a dial was turned, and a little squeal escaped from the front of it, causing half the bohemians to jump and cover their ears, turning to each other in enraged bewilderment. Madonna came and sat down on the crate next to the device, enthralled and hypnotised as Pop continued in vain to make some sound emerge from the box. Thinking she had the idea, Madonna motioned for Pop to move out of the way and she knelt down with her ear to the speaker – much like you would if you were trying to crack a safe- to try for herself. There was a horrible fuzzy sound; Pop called it interference; that reminded some bohemians of snow…

A high pitched noise came from the old contraption again and this time, the platform of the Heartbreak was filled with the sound of synthetic bells and plastic laughter. Big Macca shuddered involuntarily and swiftly nodded at Madonna, who promptly switched off the radio.

"GaGa Christmas music…" Paul whispered the venomous phrase with narrowed eyes. "What a load of …" He paused, unable to think of the right words. His brow creased in concentration as he sought for some inspiration. On seeing the other bohemians looking expectantly at him; he tried again. "What a load of – of -"

"Commercial bollocks?" A strong Scottish accent rang out across the platform, interrupting Big Macca's struggle to find fitting words to express his disgust. Paul's eyes brightened in comprehension at the phrase and looked up to face her, grinning and nodding his head.

"Yeah… That." Meat smirked in reply as she stood, hands on hips beside a crate of Jack Daniels'. She brought a gloved hand up to her face to inspect her nails, her tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek as she picked at her middle finger with her thumbnail. Impatiently she blew one of her blonde dreadlocks from in front of her eyes.

"S'always the way though ain't it? They have their emotionless, meaningless celebrations that turn their brains to shit and we have… Our own ways…"

"Of turning our brains to shit?" Macca replied, puzzled. A few whispers of 'vodka' could be heard along with knowing nods.

"No! Our own ways of celebrating! But yeah," Meat nodded to the few bohemians who had spoken during the confusion, nodding at them before winking; "vodka pretty much sums it up." She sat down on the crate she had been standing beside; deciding that public speaking probably wasn't such a good idea. The Heartbreak lulled into a thoughtful, yet uncomfortable silence as some of the bohemians tried to find something to say to break the unusual stillness.

Madonna decided it was time to speak up. "Anyone else wanna show the pigs how it's done?" She grinned and a rushed murmur of excitement spread throughout the group of bohemians. "Then let's Partay!"

Immediately, make-shift instruments were whipped out of their places. Lulu started everyone off with an elaborate bass pattern that set the whole of the Heartbreak alive. Soon enough, all the bohemians had come out of their places around the hotel and had all gathered on the platform to really start celebrating. Big Macca and Bob moved slowly across the platform, heaving a large box full of alcohol steadily; gripping so hard their knuckles were going white. Meat had hopped off the crate of Jack Daniels and had thrown the top of it off; and – with help from Aretha, Madonna and Charlotte- she was distributing it around the group of merry bohemians.

As the music playing, the drink flowed and the bohemians danced the night away; each one of them prayed that their music would reach the surface and show the GaGas Christmas really had begun.


This one was rather short in comparison to my usual length of fic, but short and sweet to start with I think…