Rules Are Meant to Be Broken
Title: Rules Are Meant to Be Broken
Fandom:RPF
Characters/Pairings:Eliza Dushku/James Franco, cameo from Robert De Niro
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer:Don't own them, never happened. But oh how I wish it were all true.
Note:I really need to stop coming up with cracky rpf ships involving Eliza Dushku, but hey, she needs to stop being hot so we're even. Set in the start of the Spidey era, and when they were filming City by the Sea.
The moment she met him, she knew he’d be trouble. And not the good kind, either. No, James Franco was the strong, silent type, exactly the sort of guy she usually avoided.
Then again, Eliza had never been very good at following rules, even ones she made for herself, so naturally, she found herself captivated.
It wasn’t like he gave her a reason. James hardly talked to her when he didn’t have to. He was too distracted, too caught up in his own little world for her to even show up on his radar.
Everyone said he was shy, but Eliza didn’t believe a word of it. Golden Globes had a way of going to people’s heads. Maybe the guy really did think he was every bit as hot as James Dean.
She’d made a bitchy comment about it once, at the craft service table after Mr. Mystrerious’ line screw ups had them shooting for three hours straight.
“The guy’s a method actor, Dushku. They’re all a little loopy and intense. Give the kid his space, and he’ll brilliant.”
When Robert De Niro spoke up, you damn well listened, and that was pretty much the first and only time she ever ran her mouth about James’ little quirks.
Despite the fact that part of her thought he was a total snob, there was another one that couldn’t get enough of the guy.
He was a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved. She stirred her coffee, watching him as he sat under a tree with a sketchbook in hand. He looked better than anyone made up to look like a guy on the run, going on three hours sleep had a right to. His curly hair was wild, his hand flying along the sketch pad like he had one more second left on Earth and he had to get it all down before it all went to hell.
She approached him cautiously; trying to get a peek of what was under his pencil smudged hand, but he flipped the cover over it as soon as he noticed he wasn’t alone.
“Hey, Eliza,” he said, not looking up until he shoved his stubby little pencil into the spiral of his sketchbook. "Need help running lines or something?"
“Um actually…,” Eliza started lamely, feeling like a moron for not having an actual reason. “I got you coffee,” she said, holding her cup out for him.
“Oh. Thanks,” he said awkwardly.
“It just has sugar.”
“How I like it.”
They sat for a moment in awkward silence. He must’ve sensed it, because he shifted a little, sitting his pad against the tree before turning his attention to her.
“Are things weird between us?”
“What? Why would they be weird?”
He looked away, and for a moment she thought that they’d settled into their trademark silence.
“I don’t know. Things just seem…awkward.”
Then she realized what the problem was. It wasn’t James, it was her.
“You heard what I said,” she said softly.
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I just-”
“You’re focused,” she filled in. “I know, I get that even. It’s just… well, I’m used to working with a bunch of crazies who jump up wearing clown noses between takes, and you’re Mr. Sits Off in A Corner…. I guess I sort of thought you were-”
“A snob,” James filled in. He shrugged. “It’s okay. I just like a little time to myself, you know?”
“All the time?”
He nodded.
“Doesn’t that get lonely?”
“Not if you’re okay with being alone with you.” He offered her a weak smile as he got up, taking his sketchpad along with him.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some sugar for this coffee,” he explained. “It tastes like crap. Must be because it’s guilt coffee.”
“It is not guilt coffee!” she protested as she stood up and brushed off her jeans. “It was hey-James- how- are- okay, it was guilt coffee! I feel really bad now, happy?”
“Extremely,” he said, flashing her that killer smile of his that so rarely made an appearance. As he struggled to rip open a sugar packet and balance his book at the same time, curiosity started to get the better of her again.
“I could hold that for you,” she offered innocently.
He laughed. “Oh I’m sure.”
“I’m not gonna peek!”
“It’s nothing special, really. It’s just doodles.”
“And here I thought it was your elaborate plan to kill Spidey,” she teased. “And I thought you painted.”
“I do. I just like to sketch stuff when I don’t have my supplies around. Hey, speaking of Spidey, did you really try out for MJ?” he asked, looking up at her.
She shrugged. “Kinda glad I didn’t land it to be honest. It just seems like a lot of pressure. Comic book fans are fierce. I wouldn‘t want them pissed at me if I screwed up Peter‘s girl.”
“Well technically Gwen came first. They’re gonna be pissed that they left her out.”
She looked at him, confused. “Who?”
Ducking his head sheepishly, he pretended to be enthralled with stirring his coffee. “Nothing, I’ve just been doing a lot of research lately. I’m turning into a total nerd.”
“Turning into? Oh, James, honey, are we forgetting what your first show was called?”
“Why? You gonna slay me if I forget?” he teased.
“Oh! Oh that was low!”
He smirked, carrying his coffee back over to his tree. “I’m Harry, like my job to be slimy.”
She shook her head, smiling as she followed him. “Well if I was MJ I’d so kick your ass.”
“No, if you were MJ you’d get to be my hot lady friend.”
She grinned. “It’s a damn good thing I didn’t get that part then.”
He grinned back. “Yeah, it’s a damn good thing.”
Fandom:RPF
Characters/Pairings:Eliza Dushku/James Franco, cameo from Robert De Niro
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer:Don't own them, never happened. But oh how I wish it were all true.
Note:I really need to stop coming up with cracky rpf ships involving Eliza Dushku, but hey, she needs to stop being hot so we're even. Set in the start of the Spidey era, and when they were filming City by the Sea.
The moment she met him, she knew he’d be trouble. And not the good kind, either. No, James Franco was the strong, silent type, exactly the sort of guy she usually avoided.
Then again, Eliza had never been very good at following rules, even ones she made for herself, so naturally, she found herself captivated.
It wasn’t like he gave her a reason. James hardly talked to her when he didn’t have to. He was too distracted, too caught up in his own little world for her to even show up on his radar.
Everyone said he was shy, but Eliza didn’t believe a word of it. Golden Globes had a way of going to people’s heads. Maybe the guy really did think he was every bit as hot as James Dean.
She’d made a bitchy comment about it once, at the craft service table after Mr. Mystrerious’ line screw ups had them shooting for three hours straight.
“The guy’s a method actor, Dushku. They’re all a little loopy and intense. Give the kid his space, and he’ll brilliant.”
When Robert De Niro spoke up, you damn well listened, and that was pretty much the first and only time she ever ran her mouth about James’ little quirks.
Despite the fact that part of her thought he was a total snob, there was another one that couldn’t get enough of the guy.
He was a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved. She stirred her coffee, watching him as he sat under a tree with a sketchbook in hand. He looked better than anyone made up to look like a guy on the run, going on three hours sleep had a right to. His curly hair was wild, his hand flying along the sketch pad like he had one more second left on Earth and he had to get it all down before it all went to hell.
She approached him cautiously; trying to get a peek of what was under his pencil smudged hand, but he flipped the cover over it as soon as he noticed he wasn’t alone.
“Hey, Eliza,” he said, not looking up until he shoved his stubby little pencil into the spiral of his sketchbook. "Need help running lines or something?"
“Um actually…,” Eliza started lamely, feeling like a moron for not having an actual reason. “I got you coffee,” she said, holding her cup out for him.
“Oh. Thanks,” he said awkwardly.
“It just has sugar.”
“How I like it.”
They sat for a moment in awkward silence. He must’ve sensed it, because he shifted a little, sitting his pad against the tree before turning his attention to her.
“Are things weird between us?”
“What? Why would they be weird?”
He looked away, and for a moment she thought that they’d settled into their trademark silence.
“I don’t know. Things just seem…awkward.”
Then she realized what the problem was. It wasn’t James, it was her.
“You heard what I said,” she said softly.
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I just-”
“You’re focused,” she filled in. “I know, I get that even. It’s just… well, I’m used to working with a bunch of crazies who jump up wearing clown noses between takes, and you’re Mr. Sits Off in A Corner…. I guess I sort of thought you were-”
“A snob,” James filled in. He shrugged. “It’s okay. I just like a little time to myself, you know?”
“All the time?”
He nodded.
“Doesn’t that get lonely?”
“Not if you’re okay with being alone with you.” He offered her a weak smile as he got up, taking his sketchpad along with him.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some sugar for this coffee,” he explained. “It tastes like crap. Must be because it’s guilt coffee.”
“It is not guilt coffee!” she protested as she stood up and brushed off her jeans. “It was hey-James- how- are- okay, it was guilt coffee! I feel really bad now, happy?”
“Extremely,” he said, flashing her that killer smile of his that so rarely made an appearance. As he struggled to rip open a sugar packet and balance his book at the same time, curiosity started to get the better of her again.
“I could hold that for you,” she offered innocently.
He laughed. “Oh I’m sure.”
“I’m not gonna peek!”
“It’s nothing special, really. It’s just doodles.”
“And here I thought it was your elaborate plan to kill Spidey,” she teased. “And I thought you painted.”
“I do. I just like to sketch stuff when I don’t have my supplies around. Hey, speaking of Spidey, did you really try out for MJ?” he asked, looking up at her.
She shrugged. “Kinda glad I didn’t land it to be honest. It just seems like a lot of pressure. Comic book fans are fierce. I wouldn‘t want them pissed at me if I screwed up Peter‘s girl.”
“Well technically Gwen came first. They’re gonna be pissed that they left her out.”
She looked at him, confused. “Who?”
Ducking his head sheepishly, he pretended to be enthralled with stirring his coffee. “Nothing, I’ve just been doing a lot of research lately. I’m turning into a total nerd.”
“Turning into? Oh, James, honey, are we forgetting what your first show was called?”
“Why? You gonna slay me if I forget?” he teased.
“Oh! Oh that was low!”
He smirked, carrying his coffee back over to his tree. “I’m Harry, like my job to be slimy.”
She shook her head, smiling as she followed him. “Well if I was MJ I’d so kick your ass.”
“No, if you were MJ you’d get to be my hot lady friend.”
She grinned. “It’s a damn good thing I didn’t get that part then.”
He grinned back. “Yeah, it’s a damn good thing.”