joincidence
in
__oat
Private (PG)
Title: Private
Fandom: RPFS
Pairings: Marcia Cross/Felicity Huffman
Word Count: 1,177
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t claim to know anything about these two actresses or anything that has happened between them.
Summary: The aftermath of that kiss.
***
As she’d expected, by the time that they get backstage, her cellphone is already ringing. She makes a private bet with herself that it’s her publicist, and sure enough, when she checks the display, it tells her that Heidi is calling. She puts her straight through to voicemail.
As she puts her phone back into her bag - silky blue, matching her dress exactly, it took her weeks to find - she feels a hand on her shoulder. She whirls around, knowing exactly who it is.
“I suppose you want me to explain.” It’s almost as if Felicity is a different person. The vibrant, confident woman from the stage is nowhere to be seen. This Felicity stands demurely in front of her, not quite meeting Marcia’s look.
“Not really.” She starts to gather up her things. “This really won’t help me convince the media that I’m not gay, you know.”
“Mar, I…” Felicity’s voice falters, and Marcia takes advantage of her friend’s moment of confusion to push past her. She’s stopped, however, by a reporter.
“Marcia, Felicity, what’s the story behind that kiss?” Marcia is certain that she’s seen this woman’s false smile somewhere before, probably on some show that she channel-surfs past because they never get anything right, and that really bugs her.
“You know how these things are, you get caught up in the moment,” Felicity giggles, and Marcia giggles too, because that’s what’s expected of her.
She knows that the show’s going to do well by this, and that can only be good, right? And she knows that she has to smile when she’s near Felicity, because the cast has had too much negative publicity already. But she knows that she’s going to get the flak for it. She’s just spent months denying the rumours that she likes women, and now Felicity has just ruined it all.
When she was in Felicity’s arms and listening to the crowd squealing and stamping their feet, she was too stunned to realise what was happening. The moment that Felicity released her and she laughed nervously, the only thought that screamed through her mind was “Marcia, your publicist is going to kill you.”
But it’s not even that that upsets her so much. What upsets her is that she has never done anything like that before in her life. She’s by no means Bree, but she’s just not an impulsive, breezy, sharing-passionate-lesbian-kisses-in-front-of-America kind of person. Did Felicity not even notice that? They’ve known each other a while now; they’re so comfortable around each other: Felicity is probably her “best friend”.
Huh, “best friend”. Such a childish title, she’s not called anyone a best friend since she was in sixth grade. But that is how Felicity makes her feel - young, excited, as though she could do anything. Maybe it’s partly the success they’ve all had this year. But she never felt like this on Melrose Place, she never felt almost drunk, giddy about the idea of going to work and spending time with those people.
Heidi has asked her a few times whether she’s gay. She always shrugs, doesn’t commit herself to an answer. After all, it isn’t Heidi’s job to know everything about her. Isn’t a publicist just there to give her image to the public? She’s never been very good with telling people things. In this business, she just doesn’t know whom to trust. So she keeps her private affairs just that. Private.
“I’m sorry,” Felicity says quietly, as she follows Marcia through the crowd of people.
“What’s done is done,” Marcia tells her, smiling and nodding at the strangers around them.
“I didn’t plan on doing it, you know.” For a moment, Felicity’s smile fades and she seems to lag behind. Marcia catches her hand and pulls her gently along after her. Appearance is everything, isn’t it?
“But you still did it.” It crosses Marcia’s mind that this is a very strange conversation to be having; they’re talking quietly to each other under the mask of smiles as they walk past hundreds of people, all wanting to talk to them, talk about them, see them kiss again.
Felicity shrugs, and doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Marcia supposes that there is nothing she can say in response to that. “I’ll drive you home if you want,” Felicity offers tentatively, as they near the doors.
“I was going to take a cab.” What a feeble excuse.
“I need to talk to you, without all these people around.” Felicity sounds near to tears now, and Marcia feels herself nod, and say, yes, it’s fine; she actually would like a lift after all.
She relishes those few moments of silence as they walk towards Felicity’s car, parked in the furthest corner of the car park by an over-enthusiastic valet. It comes as a shock when Felicity reluctantly pulls her own hand away; she’d forgotten that they were even holding hands, that they were so close. She feels the cold wind gush around her as Felicity gets into the car and moves away from her, and even as she notices that, she notices the contradictions. How can she still want to hold her hand?
She shakes herself and gets into the car herself. When she looks up, Felicity is looking directly at her.
“Are those rumours true?” she asks, and Marcia wonders why that’s even relevant, but when she asks, Felicity just looks at her.
Marcia holds her friend’s gaze for a full minute before she lets herself answer. “They could be. When I think of… some people.”
She feels Felicity’s hand hovering over hers for a moment, before it settles. She twists her own hand so that she can clasp Felicity’s. A hesitant smile is shared between the two.
A few moments pass by like that, before Marcia feels she should say something. “I don’t… I like my private things to be, y’know, private.”
“So you didn’t like the kiss?” Felicity ventures.
Marcia shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that… that sounds so rude. It was a lovely kiss.” She knows that she sounds like Bree, and part of her is laughing inside her head about it. “If it had been more… private, I think I would have really liked it.”
“We’re pretty private here.” Felicity’s voice is quiet and even, and Marcia is shocked by how confident she seems.
“I’m still mad at you,” Marcia tells her, although it doesn’t quite ring true, even to herself. How can she say she’s mad at her when she’s smiling at her?
Felicity grins. “I know. You fiery redhead,” she adds, before giggling. Marcia joins in, feeling herself blush.
As their giggles subside, Felicity strokes Marcia’s hand. “I won’t do it again then. I promise you, Mar. It was just a one-off thing… you just, you looked so beautiful, and I wondered what it would be like, and… I have wanted to do it all year. I wasn’t lying.”
Marcia smiles, before leaning her head back on the seat. “Just so you know… I wouldn’t mind if you did it in private.”
Fandom: RPFS
Pairings: Marcia Cross/Felicity Huffman
Word Count: 1,177
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t claim to know anything about these two actresses or anything that has happened between them.
Summary: The aftermath of that kiss.
***
As she’d expected, by the time that they get backstage, her cellphone is already ringing. She makes a private bet with herself that it’s her publicist, and sure enough, when she checks the display, it tells her that Heidi is calling. She puts her straight through to voicemail.
As she puts her phone back into her bag - silky blue, matching her dress exactly, it took her weeks to find - she feels a hand on her shoulder. She whirls around, knowing exactly who it is.
“I suppose you want me to explain.” It’s almost as if Felicity is a different person. The vibrant, confident woman from the stage is nowhere to be seen. This Felicity stands demurely in front of her, not quite meeting Marcia’s look.
“Not really.” She starts to gather up her things. “This really won’t help me convince the media that I’m not gay, you know.”
“Mar, I…” Felicity’s voice falters, and Marcia takes advantage of her friend’s moment of confusion to push past her. She’s stopped, however, by a reporter.
“Marcia, Felicity, what’s the story behind that kiss?” Marcia is certain that she’s seen this woman’s false smile somewhere before, probably on some show that she channel-surfs past because they never get anything right, and that really bugs her.
“You know how these things are, you get caught up in the moment,” Felicity giggles, and Marcia giggles too, because that’s what’s expected of her.
She knows that the show’s going to do well by this, and that can only be good, right? And she knows that she has to smile when she’s near Felicity, because the cast has had too much negative publicity already. But she knows that she’s going to get the flak for it. She’s just spent months denying the rumours that she likes women, and now Felicity has just ruined it all.
When she was in Felicity’s arms and listening to the crowd squealing and stamping their feet, she was too stunned to realise what was happening. The moment that Felicity released her and she laughed nervously, the only thought that screamed through her mind was “Marcia, your publicist is going to kill you.”
But it’s not even that that upsets her so much. What upsets her is that she has never done anything like that before in her life. She’s by no means Bree, but she’s just not an impulsive, breezy, sharing-passionate-lesbian-kisses-in-front-of-America kind of person. Did Felicity not even notice that? They’ve known each other a while now; they’re so comfortable around each other: Felicity is probably her “best friend”.
Huh, “best friend”. Such a childish title, she’s not called anyone a best friend since she was in sixth grade. But that is how Felicity makes her feel - young, excited, as though she could do anything. Maybe it’s partly the success they’ve all had this year. But she never felt like this on Melrose Place, she never felt almost drunk, giddy about the idea of going to work and spending time with those people.
Heidi has asked her a few times whether she’s gay. She always shrugs, doesn’t commit herself to an answer. After all, it isn’t Heidi’s job to know everything about her. Isn’t a publicist just there to give her image to the public? She’s never been very good with telling people things. In this business, she just doesn’t know whom to trust. So she keeps her private affairs just that. Private.
“I’m sorry,” Felicity says quietly, as she follows Marcia through the crowd of people.
“What’s done is done,” Marcia tells her, smiling and nodding at the strangers around them.
“I didn’t plan on doing it, you know.” For a moment, Felicity’s smile fades and she seems to lag behind. Marcia catches her hand and pulls her gently along after her. Appearance is everything, isn’t it?
“But you still did it.” It crosses Marcia’s mind that this is a very strange conversation to be having; they’re talking quietly to each other under the mask of smiles as they walk past hundreds of people, all wanting to talk to them, talk about them, see them kiss again.
Felicity shrugs, and doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Marcia supposes that there is nothing she can say in response to that. “I’ll drive you home if you want,” Felicity offers tentatively, as they near the doors.
“I was going to take a cab.” What a feeble excuse.
“I need to talk to you, without all these people around.” Felicity sounds near to tears now, and Marcia feels herself nod, and say, yes, it’s fine; she actually would like a lift after all.
She relishes those few moments of silence as they walk towards Felicity’s car, parked in the furthest corner of the car park by an over-enthusiastic valet. It comes as a shock when Felicity reluctantly pulls her own hand away; she’d forgotten that they were even holding hands, that they were so close. She feels the cold wind gush around her as Felicity gets into the car and moves away from her, and even as she notices that, she notices the contradictions. How can she still want to hold her hand?
She shakes herself and gets into the car herself. When she looks up, Felicity is looking directly at her.
“Are those rumours true?” she asks, and Marcia wonders why that’s even relevant, but when she asks, Felicity just looks at her.
Marcia holds her friend’s gaze for a full minute before she lets herself answer. “They could be. When I think of… some people.”
She feels Felicity’s hand hovering over hers for a moment, before it settles. She twists her own hand so that she can clasp Felicity’s. A hesitant smile is shared between the two.
A few moments pass by like that, before Marcia feels she should say something. “I don’t… I like my private things to be, y’know, private.”
“So you didn’t like the kiss?” Felicity ventures.
Marcia shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that… that sounds so rude. It was a lovely kiss.” She knows that she sounds like Bree, and part of her is laughing inside her head about it. “If it had been more… private, I think I would have really liked it.”
“We’re pretty private here.” Felicity’s voice is quiet and even, and Marcia is shocked by how confident she seems.
“I’m still mad at you,” Marcia tells her, although it doesn’t quite ring true, even to herself. How can she say she’s mad at her when she’s smiling at her?
Felicity grins. “I know. You fiery redhead,” she adds, before giggling. Marcia joins in, feeling herself blush.
As their giggles subside, Felicity strokes Marcia’s hand. “I won’t do it again then. I promise you, Mar. It was just a one-off thing… you just, you looked so beautiful, and I wondered what it would be like, and… I have wanted to do it all year. I wasn’t lying.”
Marcia smiles, before leaning her head back on the seat. “Just so you know… I wouldn’t mind if you did it in private.”