RPFS
Title: One Kiss
Fandom: SNL/Mean Girls
Pairing: Tina Fey/Lindsay Lohan and Tina Fey/Amy Poehler
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1539
A/N: I am so going to hell for this but it was totally worth it. Set during the filming of Mean Girls - one event from 3 POVs
Amy
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so selfish. I don’t think about it very often (obviously I’m too busy thinking about myself) but occasionally I wonder if life would run more smoothly without my compulsive need to follow every rash urge and desire. When you’re the eye of the storm it can be hard to focus on the destruction around you, but believe me I know it’s there. Of course it’s simpler to blame someone else. I stare at this mess and I blame Tina. It was always easier to be a hurricane than to look into her hopeful brown eyes and know I had fallen short of her ridiculously high standards yet again.
Given that I’m so self-centred I shouldn’t also be jealous, yet I am. Last night I stood like some idiotic peeping tom, watching Tina and Lindsay play and giggle in an abandoned make up truck, and tasted bile in my mouth. It was the end of the shoot and I should have been whirling in smoke and lights, the centre of attention at the wrap party. Instead I stood on the outside looking in as they prepared to go. Lindsay was curling Tina’s hair to match her own, she was dazzling in silk and a (too short) skirt but every time she made Tina laugh she looked like a 9 year old at her best friend’s sleepover. Lindsay is a good kid, a ‘peach’ as Tina calls her, but each time she bent down to whisper against Tina’s ear a part of me wanted to go in there and send her to bed without any supper.
I wasn’t surprised when Lindsay methodically placed down the curling tong, ran her fingers through her curly handiwork and finally rested her hand on Tina’s shoulder. I could practically feel Tina’s skin (always cool to touch) under my own fingertips as Lindsay’s hand kept travelling down her bare arm. It was natural that she would lean over and kiss Tina. Even so my breath caught in shock in the back of my throat. The kiss was quick and chaste; Tina sat perfectly still with her hands folded primly in her lap, but the very innocence of it is what hurt. The noise of the storm had long since drowned out ‘I love you’s’ between us, but in that moment I could clearly see what Tina and I had lost.
I guess I’m not 100% selfish. If I were I would have ran in there and stopped it. I could have played the morality police, appealing to Tina’s conscience. However, it’s not as if I have a soapbox - or a leg - to stand on in that department. I could have played the voice of reason, appealing to Lindsay’s common sense. It wouldn’t have been hard to point out the cracks in her idol’s façade, after all Tina is just a wrecked building waiting to tumble down. Hell I could have simply been the scorned, jealous girlfriend, I have a feeling I would be good in that role, but really what right do I have? I’m too selfish, I don’t want to lay claims on anyone else because then they would have claims on me. No, the only right I have is to stand out in the cold and shiver.
It was only one kiss. However next time I’m afraid it will be more.
Lindsay
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so young. Sure it’s cool to do things for the first time - lipstick, boys, sex - but occasionally I feel as though I’m tumbling over myself to get to that imaginary finish line marked ‘adult.’ Growing up in the business is distorting. I feel older than my friends but my image is suspended in time. I’m just ‘that freckled kid from The Parent Trap,’ or ‘that cute girl from Freaky Friday,’ I feel like I wouldn’t have an identity unless it was captured on film. For that reason I hate cameras, but everyday I have to fight the urge to scramble in front of them just to prove I still exist and grow.
I didn’t want Tina to see me like that - a little girl caught on film. She sat in the first read through, only breaking her concentrated note making to quietly mutter one liners under her breath, and I knew I didn’t want to be young in front of her. For her I wanted to be grown up and smart and funny. I prayed the days she was on set would be the ones where I was wearing a skirt and heels rather than that childish checked shirt. I’d will her to come over and talk to me just so I could prove I wasn’t the air headed starlet that magazine photographs make me out to be. She’d call me a ‘peach’ and I’d figure I was one step closer to going for coffee in her, no doubt stylish, New York apartment.
A movie set is a strange kind of fantasy. All the while I was trying to be older whilst she sat off camera, scuffing her shoes against a desk and trying to fit into a teenage world. I played ‘the new girl’ but she was the one would who would come to me and beg playfully for tips to improve her ‘awesome acting.’ She was only pretending to be a teacher but of course I had a crush on her because she was my real role model.
I’m guessing everyone could tell I admired her before I knew myself. When you’re a redhead it’s hard to hide the blush that comes each time one particular person walks into the room. They may have noticed but they didn’t understand. I didn’t fully understand until I saw her and Amy together. They were pushed against her trailer wall and hadn’t heard me pull the door open (I forgot to knock) They were breathless and tangled up in each other. Amy had her eyes closed and Tina’s hand was in her hair, snapping her head back, as she kissed along her exposed neck. I saw them and I knew what I wanted. I didn’t just want to be like Tina, I wanted to be with her and forget that I was only ‘a kid.’
So I kissed her. We talked and we flirted, then I leant over and kissed her. It wasn’t like kissing a boyfriend. She was smooth and cold but she tasted sweet. I ran my tongue along her closed teeth and she moaned softly before gently pulling away. She licked her lips once and smiled knowingly.
It was only one kiss. However next time she licks her lips I know I will want more.
Tina
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so jaded. For the most part I’m too busy to question being bitter. However occasionally I’ll stop and look at the crazy carnival my life has become and wonder why all I can see is grey. Some days I suspect I must have been born this way. Some nights I think Amy might have something to do with it.
Working on this movie has made me long for the days before a wisecrack and cynical smile replaced genuine feeling. Everything is so new and exciting, everyone is so fresh and young, that it is easy to get caught up in this manic energy and make believe. When you walk onto a classroom set and, unlike SNL, the walls don’t shake you can’t help pretending you’re standing on the brink of your future. Surrounded by teenagers the smell of hope and hormones is dizzying. Here I can let Amy fuck me in my trailer and I can almost believe it is love.
Of course it’s not and all this is just my mid life crisis (earlier than most but hey, I’ve always been an over achiever) talking. I don’t really want to be a teenager again. I look at Lindsay, all broken sentences and misguided flirting, and I remember how awkward it was. I’m jaded now but at least I’m hardened - when you’re young you’re fresh but you’re raw. Lindsay is better turned out than I was; she has poise and confidence and seems to have mastered the mysteries of eyebrow waxing, but she still can’t hide the feelings flitting across her eyes.
I don’t make a habit of kissing teenage girls (which I’m sure my husband would be thrilled to know…) but I’d catch those unguarded eyes glancing my way and I knew what was coming, after all I used to use that exact same look on Amy. I guess I should have stopped her before it got to the point of us sitting alone, trading secrets and gossiping like naughty schoolgirls. Even when she leant forward and her hair fell across my bare shoulder I still could have pulled away and been the sympathetic but responsible mentor. I didn’t, instead I sat perfectly still and let her kiss me. I am jaded, but not enough to resist the lure of playing the version of myself that Lindsay thinks I am. She tastes of cherry lip-gloss and adoration.
It was only one kiss. However next time, when Amy isn’t watching, I know it will be more.
Fandom: SNL/Mean Girls
Pairing: Tina Fey/Lindsay Lohan and Tina Fey/Amy Poehler
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1539
A/N: I am so going to hell for this but it was totally worth it. Set during the filming of Mean Girls - one event from 3 POVs
Amy
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so selfish. I don’t think about it very often (obviously I’m too busy thinking about myself) but occasionally I wonder if life would run more smoothly without my compulsive need to follow every rash urge and desire. When you’re the eye of the storm it can be hard to focus on the destruction around you, but believe me I know it’s there. Of course it’s simpler to blame someone else. I stare at this mess and I blame Tina. It was always easier to be a hurricane than to look into her hopeful brown eyes and know I had fallen short of her ridiculously high standards yet again.
Given that I’m so self-centred I shouldn’t also be jealous, yet I am. Last night I stood like some idiotic peeping tom, watching Tina and Lindsay play and giggle in an abandoned make up truck, and tasted bile in my mouth. It was the end of the shoot and I should have been whirling in smoke and lights, the centre of attention at the wrap party. Instead I stood on the outside looking in as they prepared to go. Lindsay was curling Tina’s hair to match her own, she was dazzling in silk and a (too short) skirt but every time she made Tina laugh she looked like a 9 year old at her best friend’s sleepover. Lindsay is a good kid, a ‘peach’ as Tina calls her, but each time she bent down to whisper against Tina’s ear a part of me wanted to go in there and send her to bed without any supper.
I wasn’t surprised when Lindsay methodically placed down the curling tong, ran her fingers through her curly handiwork and finally rested her hand on Tina’s shoulder. I could practically feel Tina’s skin (always cool to touch) under my own fingertips as Lindsay’s hand kept travelling down her bare arm. It was natural that she would lean over and kiss Tina. Even so my breath caught in shock in the back of my throat. The kiss was quick and chaste; Tina sat perfectly still with her hands folded primly in her lap, but the very innocence of it is what hurt. The noise of the storm had long since drowned out ‘I love you’s’ between us, but in that moment I could clearly see what Tina and I had lost.
I guess I’m not 100% selfish. If I were I would have ran in there and stopped it. I could have played the morality police, appealing to Tina’s conscience. However, it’s not as if I have a soapbox - or a leg - to stand on in that department. I could have played the voice of reason, appealing to Lindsay’s common sense. It wouldn’t have been hard to point out the cracks in her idol’s façade, after all Tina is just a wrecked building waiting to tumble down. Hell I could have simply been the scorned, jealous girlfriend, I have a feeling I would be good in that role, but really what right do I have? I’m too selfish, I don’t want to lay claims on anyone else because then they would have claims on me. No, the only right I have is to stand out in the cold and shiver.
It was only one kiss. However next time I’m afraid it will be more.
Lindsay
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so young. Sure it’s cool to do things for the first time - lipstick, boys, sex - but occasionally I feel as though I’m tumbling over myself to get to that imaginary finish line marked ‘adult.’ Growing up in the business is distorting. I feel older than my friends but my image is suspended in time. I’m just ‘that freckled kid from The Parent Trap,’ or ‘that cute girl from Freaky Friday,’ I feel like I wouldn’t have an identity unless it was captured on film. For that reason I hate cameras, but everyday I have to fight the urge to scramble in front of them just to prove I still exist and grow.
I didn’t want Tina to see me like that - a little girl caught on film. She sat in the first read through, only breaking her concentrated note making to quietly mutter one liners under her breath, and I knew I didn’t want to be young in front of her. For her I wanted to be grown up and smart and funny. I prayed the days she was on set would be the ones where I was wearing a skirt and heels rather than that childish checked shirt. I’d will her to come over and talk to me just so I could prove I wasn’t the air headed starlet that magazine photographs make me out to be. She’d call me a ‘peach’ and I’d figure I was one step closer to going for coffee in her, no doubt stylish, New York apartment.
A movie set is a strange kind of fantasy. All the while I was trying to be older whilst she sat off camera, scuffing her shoes against a desk and trying to fit into a teenage world. I played ‘the new girl’ but she was the one would who would come to me and beg playfully for tips to improve her ‘awesome acting.’ She was only pretending to be a teacher but of course I had a crush on her because she was my real role model.
I’m guessing everyone could tell I admired her before I knew myself. When you’re a redhead it’s hard to hide the blush that comes each time one particular person walks into the room. They may have noticed but they didn’t understand. I didn’t fully understand until I saw her and Amy together. They were pushed against her trailer wall and hadn’t heard me pull the door open (I forgot to knock) They were breathless and tangled up in each other. Amy had her eyes closed and Tina’s hand was in her hair, snapping her head back, as she kissed along her exposed neck. I saw them and I knew what I wanted. I didn’t just want to be like Tina, I wanted to be with her and forget that I was only ‘a kid.’
So I kissed her. We talked and we flirted, then I leant over and kissed her. It wasn’t like kissing a boyfriend. She was smooth and cold but she tasted sweet. I ran my tongue along her closed teeth and she moaned softly before gently pulling away. She licked her lips once and smiled knowingly.
It was only one kiss. However next time she licks her lips I know I will want more.
Tina
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so jaded. For the most part I’m too busy to question being bitter. However occasionally I’ll stop and look at the crazy carnival my life has become and wonder why all I can see is grey. Some days I suspect I must have been born this way. Some nights I think Amy might have something to do with it.
Working on this movie has made me long for the days before a wisecrack and cynical smile replaced genuine feeling. Everything is so new and exciting, everyone is so fresh and young, that it is easy to get caught up in this manic energy and make believe. When you walk onto a classroom set and, unlike SNL, the walls don’t shake you can’t help pretending you’re standing on the brink of your future. Surrounded by teenagers the smell of hope and hormones is dizzying. Here I can let Amy fuck me in my trailer and I can almost believe it is love.
Of course it’s not and all this is just my mid life crisis (earlier than most but hey, I’ve always been an over achiever) talking. I don’t really want to be a teenager again. I look at Lindsay, all broken sentences and misguided flirting, and I remember how awkward it was. I’m jaded now but at least I’m hardened - when you’re young you’re fresh but you’re raw. Lindsay is better turned out than I was; she has poise and confidence and seems to have mastered the mysteries of eyebrow waxing, but she still can’t hide the feelings flitting across her eyes.
I don’t make a habit of kissing teenage girls (which I’m sure my husband would be thrilled to know…) but I’d catch those unguarded eyes glancing my way and I knew what was coming, after all I used to use that exact same look on Amy. I guess I should have stopped her before it got to the point of us sitting alone, trading secrets and gossiping like naughty schoolgirls. Even when she leant forward and her hair fell across my bare shoulder I still could have pulled away and been the sympathetic but responsible mentor. I didn’t, instead I sat perfectly still and let her kiss me. I am jaded, but not enough to resist the lure of playing the version of myself that Lindsay thinks I am. She tastes of cherry lip-gloss and adoration.
It was only one kiss. However next time, when Amy isn’t watching, I know it will be more.