dvd commentary: the liberation of katie holmes, part three
We're pumping these out while we have the time-- we should be able to post one a day so they're all done this week!
They land in Tampa twenty minutes late, which already puts Jason in a shitty mood, and when he has to wait another fifteen for her to snag her suitcases from the luggage claim, he's downright petulant. The kind of petulant where he just huffs and suffers in silence, because he's too nice to ever lose his shit in front of her, which is almost more annoying than him mouthing off.
"Why didn't we just fly straight to Clearwater, anyway?" she questions as she yanks her second heavy suitcase off the belt.
Jason reaches over without saying anything and takes it from her; she can't help but notice his arm muscles. Kind of impressive. "One, it's like Scientology Metropolis. They own everything and have people working for them everywhere. We have to be undetected. Two, there wasn't a direct flight there from LAX anyway, so." He shrugs and jerks his head toward the exit. "Come on. We gotta go."
miss deviant: Yeah, that's us covering our asses, and where research came in handy. No direct flights. Side note: did you know St Petersburg/Clearwater airport's code is "PIE"?
buffyx: Sounds delicious!
They stop at the car rental place. She uses the big paneled window to reapply some clear lip gloss while he speaks to the person behind the counter, filling out forms and handing over a credit card. Ten minutes later, he's got a pair of keys clutched in his hand.
"A Hummer?" she exclaims once they reach the parking lot. "You rented a Hummer?"
"Nice, huh?" Jason pats the hood appreciatively, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. He's such a guy.
"At least it's in black," she grumbles. "If it was yellow, I'd be walking."
miss deviant: Welcome to the Left Behind series, Scientology edition!
buffyx: missdeviant came up with the Hummer. It seemed so appropriate.
miss deviant: And it's such a boy thing. Hummers and giant televisions. They cannot resist them.
buffyx: Like moths to a flame.
She lets him drive of course, but she starts doubting that decision when he pulls on a rustic, dirt road highway riddled with potholes. Five miles along or so and she sees a sign that says CLEARWATER with an arrow. Except it's pointing in the opposite direction.
"Uh, where are we going?" Kristen twists around in her seat to watch the sign disappear behind them. "Clearwater's the other way."
"I know what I'm doing," he tells her, pulling at the belt strap across his chest.
"Yeah, but I don't," she shoots back.
miss deviant: I liked the idea of them going somewhere really isolated and creepy. Also, it made sense, because with all the Scientologists in the town itself, it would be hard to hide a secret plot.
buffyx: And Jason not letting her in on everything keeps in line with what happens later. He's not willing to hand over all the information upfront.
He’s already convinced her to travel more than three thousand miles and he’s STILL not telling her what she wants to know. She's cross, and he won't stop fiddling with the stupid radio dials. Finally, she slaps his hand away and snaps, "WILL YOU QUIT ALREADY. I JUST WANT TO LISTEN TO 'BEHIND THESE FUCKING HAZEL EYES,' OKAY? OKAY."
Jason smirks, until it’s like he finally gets it into his skull that she's dead serious. Then he puffs out his lower lip and sighs dramatically, like boys do when they know they are about to get an earful.
buffyx: I have a total girlcrush on Kelly Clarkson, for the record. If loving her is wrong, I don't want to be right.
miss deviant: This was actually the first section I wrote after buffyx asked me to co-write. I had been brainstorming ideas all night and just as I fell into bed, this scene came to my head. I had to pull my laptop onto my pillow and type it all out in an e-mail. For the record, I ALSO love Kelly Clarkson.
buffyx: I like that she is on edge and just wants to listen to the song, because one of my biggest pet peeves is people talking over the radio when it's a song I like. Especially when I'm stressed.
miss deviant: Oh, me too. I used to freak out if anyone tried to change "Escape" by Enrique Iglesias. I even had a little car dance I did.
"What's wrong?" he asks, exasperated. And a teeny tiny part of herself hates him then, because it's a sign he knows her well enough to be aware that when she gets like this, it's gonna take more than Kelly Clarkson to calm her down. She wonders when that happened.
"What's WRONG?" she echoes incredulously. "Let's see. I've flown cross country to take on one of the world's most powerful movie stars, who is a spokesmodel of one of the world's creepiest religions- no offense- and somehow I don't find it comforting that you're taking me to an unknown location in a vehicle ranked Most Likely to Survive an Apocalypse by Car and Driver Magazine for six years running."
miss deviant: I may have a TEENY TINY obsession with apocalypses.
buffyx: That makes two of us.
Kristen's chest tightens, her breathing ragged as she puts her fingertips to her temples. This was crazy. Staying at home with the dogs: not crazy. She had to learn to make better life choices, instead of being pulled up down and sideways by Jason Fucking Dohring and his Hummer-renting, Harlequin-Romance reading self. Even if he DID have really nice arms. Slowly, like he's afraid she's going to bite his watch off, Jason reaches over and flicks off the radio.
Then, he starts talking.
miss deviant: I wrote that one, right? I would like to bask in the glory for three seconds. *basks* Okay. I'm done.
buffyx: I'm not sure who coined Jason Fucking Dohring, but that is a nice paragraph. The arms comment clinches it.
miss deviant: Well, whoever said it first (and fine, it was probably NOT me), welcome to our favorite running gag!
buffyx: It's like Stonehenge. NOBODY KNOWS.
For the next twenty five minutes, she's regaled with his life story. How Scientology gave him everything he ever wanted: a career, a wife, a purpose in life, a pass to go to the front of the line on all the rides at Disneyland. And how, at twenty-two, he realized that maybe he had stopped getting everything he wanted, and started to get everything THEY wanted him to have - whether it was a part of his own life plan or not.
miss deviant: Jason opens up!
buffyx: This is really the start of our version of Jason, who is questioning his faith. It's the beginning of what ultimately leads to him exposing his DARK SIDE. He doesn't know WHAT to believe in! Woe! Angst! Turmoil!
She doesn't speak through most of the pauses, stopping him only once to ask, "So you don't believe that psychiatric drugs are the gateway to Satan?"
"Actually," he says slowly, "I still do."
He doesn't elaborate, and his eyes do not leave the road.
Kristen doesn't ask questions after that.
buffyx: Ann wrote this, and I like it because when she explained it to me, it made a lot of sense. And added to the complexity of Jason. She can explain what that moment means.
miss deviant: Well, it's really important to understand that even though this Jason is essentially rebelling against most of the things that he is known, he's still ingrained with a lot of the beliefs he was raised in. This is important because a) it's going to be really hard for him to do what he has to do, and emotional turmoil always makes for good fiction and b) he still has to believe that sex on a plane is not cheating. And he can only believe that if he still holds on to some tenets of his former faith.
buffyx: Right. He can't just shake it off overnight. The degree to which we hammered out Jason's characterization is kind of ridiculous. But we really developed him and once we did that, writing him became pretty easy. Or, not easy-- but knowing where he was going and what he was going to do came more easily. And there are still things we know he's going to do in the sequel because he has to do them. But we won't go into that here.
miss deviant: BE CAREFUL! DO NOT SPOIL OUR AUDIENCE! Anyway, I think that's a part of the reason that this started feeling less like, "Let's make these pretty people have gratuitous sex" and more like, "These are characters who may be based on real people, but they have their own motivations." And it's the difference between Jason Dohring, the actor, and Jason Fucking Dohring, the revolutionary.
buffyx: Yeah, one of the reasons I got over my issues with RPF is because it feels like they're basically original characters. I mean, we draw upon some facts and everything, but it's still building characters mostly from the ground up. I’m weirdly attached to them because they feel like they’re ours.
About another half hour passes before they cross back onto a main road, one that is actually paved and not screaming Impending-Death-At-The-Hands-Of-Incestuous-Redneck-Serial-Killing-Family, though it still looks like they're in the middle of nowhere.
Kristen props her Skechers up on the dashboard, reaching back and reclining her seat a bit. They eventually pull into the parking lot of a low-class hotel; Jason hasn't even cut the engine before she jumps out, letting her sunglasses slide back down from the top of her head.
"This?" She turns to him and stares. "We came all the way here for this?"
"Uh." A pause as he squints at the sign. "Yeah. Looks like."
He pops the backseat open, lifts two of the suitcases out, trudging past and toward the entrance without a word.
miss deviant: Strong AND helpful. I like that in a man!
buffyx: The idea is-- and I don't think we ever outright explained it-- that Jason has instructions to stay at this specific motel. And he knows Josh is involved, but not that he's going to actually show up there. I mean, this is what I assumed. I think missdeviant and I were on the same page.
miss deviant: That we were!
Jason has put down her bags and raises two fingers in a wave. "Hi," he says to the woman. "Reservation. It's under-" He hesitates and glances sideways at Kristen. "Steve Holt." She barely manages to repress a snort.
buffyx: Yeah, "Steve Holt" was my idea. My turn to bask!
miss deviant: I know.
buffyx: Though, missdeviant suggested Harry Hamlin. Which is also pretty hilarious!
miss deviant: It was a START!
buffyx: But, Steve Holt wins. Because-- you know-- STEVE HOLT. (I was doing the arm gesture there, but you can't see that.)
miss deviant: buffyx suggested we reference Arrested Development as much as possible. and I totally agreed. Sadly, I think this is our only (?) direct reference.
buffyx: And really, I would not even have come up with it had Ann not introduced me to its brilliance when I stayed with her in Austin!
miss deviant: Oh, man, you don't want this commentary to turn into a full on Austin reminisce, do you? Because I can talk about that weekend for HOURS. Actually, this whole fic kind of ended up being a full-on Austin reminiscence.
buffyx: This is true. That weekend spanned tens of thousands of jokes. Hey, REMEMBER THAT THING WITH THE THING?
miss deviant: HILARIOUS!
buffyx: Totally!
The woman checks a few things in her computer, hands an envelope to Jason, then reaches into a drawer and produces a set of keys. Real keys, not the kind that look like credit cards that most hotels use. They jingle as they slide across the counter.
One of the consolations is that it's a real hotel. An ugly and kind of smelly one, Kristen thinks, but it's not like the places Veronica Mars frequents. At least here, there's no ice machine outside the door and you don't have to walk outside along a cracked concrete sidewalk to get to your room.
Except, that's the problem: Room. Singular. As in, Jason fucked up the reservations.
"Look, you were a last minute addition!" he says defensively.
She glares. "Whatever. Look, I'll just go book another one. No problemo."
buffyx: OBVIOUSLY, they needed to share a room. However contrived getting them in there turned out, it had to be done. And really, the whole fic is full of cliches. It's part of its hilarity.
miss deviant: CLICHE BUT AWESOME was kind of a mantra while writing this.
buffyx: Exactly.
miss deviant: Actually, I don't think the whole room sharing thing was as cliche as some of the stuff we pulled later.
buffyx: Right. But, if anyone wants to know, the cliches strung throughout the entire story were purposeful. Really. There are parts that are supposed to read like a cheesy action blockbuster. Just more self-aware.
Kristen walks back to the lobby, hits the bell again and does her best Veronica impression. "Hi. I know I was just here but my friend- Steve? See, he made an eensy weensie mistake and only booked one room when we actually wanted TWO. So is it possible that I can get my own room?"
Kathy Bates gives her a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sorry honey, but there's a conference in town-" she begins.
"Even a different room. With two beds," Kristen cuts in. "He and I, well, we're not- and it would be weird if- I mean..." She trails off when the woman just turns around and walks to the back room, shaking her head.
"Well can I at least get a cot?" Kristen yells after her. Nothing.
Her mouth drops open. Oh, this place so just lost a star with that one.
miss deviant: Man, I love snarky, nonchalant Kathy Bates.
buffyx: I love the star line, too.
She stomps back into the room. "Damn plushies and their stupid covert conferences," she mutters under her breath.
"I'm guessing that didn't go well," Jason observes as she flops backward onto the bed.
"How observant of you," she states flatly. "I call the bed, by the way."
"Dude, like I care." He stretches his arms out over his head, and she's suddenly distracted by the patch of stomach that shows as his shirt slides up. Hello, Mr. Happy Trail. "Not like we're going to be doing much sleeping anyway."
buffyx: Plushies! Which are the same as furries, by the way.
miss deviant: Well, not quite. We had to do some research on that one.
buffyx: I’m still trying to repress. They’re very similar, at least.
miss deviant: Very similar. Plushies are often furries.
buffyx: I believe at some point we intended to namedrop Teddy Dunn as a plushie. I can't remember what happened to that, but it would have been HILARIOUS. Because we're mean. Or, I am, anyway.
miss deviant: We are. We kill kittens and eat them with toast.
buffyx: Whatever, it's not like I booed him in Austin! I have some class!
miss deviant: Man, you are just baiting me with this Austin shit. REMEMBER TIPTOES???
buffyx: OH GOD I KNOW. Let's stay focused, here.
miss deviant: Okay. So. MORE SEXUAL TENSION! And happy trails. And cliches.
buffyx: Oh, and I wrote the Happy Trail line. Hello, hotness!
miss deviant: FULL CREDIT TO HANNAH! EXTRA POINTS!
buffyx: Considering that Ann wrote like 97% of the actual smut, I claim credit for what little hotness I can.
Her heart plummets into her stomach-or, possibly, a few feet south of that- and she's pretty sure a strangled noise escaped from her throat. What did he just say?
Of course, he notices her silence. Of COURSE. Why did he have to pick this weekend to suddenly become in tune with her brain waves?
"Uh," she says. Attempts to swallow. "What are you- I don't- I mean…"
He lets out a little laughing sigh. "I don't know about your covert operations expertise, but it's not the way it looks on Alias. There are actual hours of planning that go into breaking into a high tech secret facility. Whole hours of planning, I might add, that don't include choosing a wig."
buffyx: Yay for manufactured sexual tension!
miss deviant: And wig-choosing! I thought a lot about the pacing of Alias when we wrote some of the later action scenes, so it seemed only fair that we give it a shoutout.
Jason turns, snatching a sheet of paper that must contain the hotel's channel list from off the top of the television. "Oh, look. This place gets the Food Network! How rad is that?"
"Quite rad indeed," she responds dryly, but the sarcasm seems to miss him by a mile. Or twelve.
"Look, we passed a bar on the way here," he says. "Want to go get something to drink?"
Alcohol actually does sound pretty awesome right now.
"Sure," Kristen agrees. "Let me go take a shower so I don't smell like airport."
Jason fidgets with the paper before putting it back onto the television. “Um. I'll go find something to do in the lobby while you-- whatever."
miss deviant: RAD!
buffyx: Of course, there had to be mockage of his embarrassing use of the word "rad." In fact, I'm surprised we didn't abuse it more.
miss deviant: I know, right? This was the only time we had him say it. Later, we became obsessed with the "or whatevers" and dropped 'rad' completely.
buffyx: The "dudes" kind of fell to the wayside, too.
miss deviant:I also love that he's watching the food network. Some debate went on over which channel would be sufficiently dorky yet also plausible for Jason (in all his earnestness) to like.
buffyx: The Food Network is brilliance. I think he has a season pass for Iron Chef. And gets, like, actually excited for the reveal of the secret ingredient. He's that level of dorky.
miss deviant: Oh, totally. And Lauren has gotten him hooked on Rachael Ray. It's why we love him. Well, that and the arms.
Kristen shoots him a simpering smile as he leaves the room. She hears the key turn in the door’s lock. Yeah. Good luck with finding something to do. Maybe he could get Kathy Bates’ sister to show him where she kept the extra antler.
Surprisingly, the ancient shower has amazing water pressure, and the hot steam does wonders for her mood. She closes her eyes, lets the water pour over her. By the time her feet hit the thin white towel that’s playing the role of a bath mat, she’s almost ready to forgive Jason for the one-room stunt.
Almost. Not completely, because to forgive him completely would mean she’d have to forgive him for the twisty feelings caused by that bare patch of stomach, and she’s not ready to go there yet. Nope. Not even going to dwell on that.
buffyx: Denial, denial, denial.
miss deviant: Oh, Kristen. Give in already. I also like the towel "playing the role" of the bathmat. It seems like such an actress-y way to observe things. it also implies that the towel is a pretty poor bathmat. Much like a llama would be a pretty poor alpaca.
buffyx: I like that Kristen isn't stupid. She just compartmentalizes. And I think from this part on we transitioned her from sounding less ditzy Valley Girl.
miss deviant: That was all MY influence. (Okay, not really.)
buffyx: Well, once you got on, I dropped the constant "oh my god"ing and there were less "whatever"s. Though she still does it on occasion. But the more she gets pulled into the scheme, the more serious she tends to become. Like, "Oh, so this isn't a joke? Huh." So it makes sense.
miss deviant: I agree.
Getting dressed is harder. Jason didn’t mention anything about the kind of attire required to infiltrate a Scientology stronghold, so she had kind of unloaded her closet into her bags. She hopes it doesn’t involve special robes, because those, she didn’t pack. As she rummages through her second suitcase, she wonders where she thought she was going to wear a silk halter dress.
Um, wait. Hello. Drinks. Dress. Unbeatable combination.
Besides, if a girl was going to die in the near future while completing a religious mission, she’d better spend her last hours on earth looking damn good.
miss deviant: Man, I remember spending about a half hour on shopintuition.com looking for a dress for kristen to wear. Also, Kristen is totally an overpacker. Remember that Jason hasn't really told her anything about what they're doing or how long they'll be gone - so she needs EVERYTHING.
buffyx: Packrat!
miss deviant: That will come into play later!
buffyx: A girl's gotta come prepared.
miss deviant: STOP SPOILERING OR I WILL CUT YOU!
buffyx: Oh whatever. Anyway, if I had her figure, I'd be dragging that dress everywhere I went too.
"What? You thought I'd break out my stealth turtleneck this early into the mission?"
"What do you think this is? The Ivy?”
They start walking across the small lobby towards the exit. Kristen’s heels click rapidly on the wooden floor.
"Don't look at me like that," she snaps.
"What? Looking-- there was no looking."
"You gave me that look!” She pivots to face him in front of the doorway. “That look that says I am high-maintenance. Which I am not. Now get me to the bar and order me a Bloody Mary, goddammit."
miss deviant: Stealth turtlenecks are so Seth Cohen.
buffyx: Bloody Marys are actually really disgusting. But I like that she doesn't just order frilly drinks. Homegirl can hold her liquor.
miss deviant: You chose Kristen's drink. I would have just given her a vodka on the rocks or something. Which - also not too shabby.
buffyx: I did, I know. Mostly because I like the sound of it. I do like how she gets pissed at him for looking at her like she's high-maintenance, then turns around and orders him to get her a drink. Hee.
miss deviant: I love that!
“Jason.” A smooth voice emerges from the coat room just inside the lobby’s door, and they both turn toward the noise. “Why don’t we get the lady what she wants?”
miss deviant: We kind of bandied about regarding where we should end this one. We always knew it was going to be Josh, but we considered revealing him at the end of the section.
buffyx: I like that it was all mysterious instead.
miss deviant: Of course, we soon realized that CLIFFHANGERS RULE! We're sorry for freaking you out and making you think it was Tom Cruise. I like the mysteriousity too. THE PLOT THICKENS!
buffyx: Cue the dramatic music!
They land in Tampa twenty minutes late, which already puts Jason in a shitty mood, and when he has to wait another fifteen for her to snag her suitcases from the luggage claim, he's downright petulant. The kind of petulant where he just huffs and suffers in silence, because he's too nice to ever lose his shit in front of her, which is almost more annoying than him mouthing off.
"Why didn't we just fly straight to Clearwater, anyway?" she questions as she yanks her second heavy suitcase off the belt.
Jason reaches over without saying anything and takes it from her; she can't help but notice his arm muscles. Kind of impressive. "One, it's like Scientology Metropolis. They own everything and have people working for them everywhere. We have to be undetected. Two, there wasn't a direct flight there from LAX anyway, so." He shrugs and jerks his head toward the exit. "Come on. We gotta go."
miss deviant: Yeah, that's us covering our asses, and where research came in handy. No direct flights. Side note: did you know St Petersburg/Clearwater airport's code is "PIE"?
buffyx: Sounds delicious!
They stop at the car rental place. She uses the big paneled window to reapply some clear lip gloss while he speaks to the person behind the counter, filling out forms and handing over a credit card. Ten minutes later, he's got a pair of keys clutched in his hand.
"A Hummer?" she exclaims once they reach the parking lot. "You rented a Hummer?"
"Nice, huh?" Jason pats the hood appreciatively, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. He's such a guy.
"At least it's in black," she grumbles. "If it was yellow, I'd be walking."
miss deviant: Welcome to the Left Behind series, Scientology edition!
buffyx: missdeviant came up with the Hummer. It seemed so appropriate.
miss deviant: And it's such a boy thing. Hummers and giant televisions. They cannot resist them.
buffyx: Like moths to a flame.
She lets him drive of course, but she starts doubting that decision when he pulls on a rustic, dirt road highway riddled with potholes. Five miles along or so and she sees a sign that says CLEARWATER with an arrow. Except it's pointing in the opposite direction.
"Uh, where are we going?" Kristen twists around in her seat to watch the sign disappear behind them. "Clearwater's the other way."
"I know what I'm doing," he tells her, pulling at the belt strap across his chest.
"Yeah, but I don't," she shoots back.
miss deviant: I liked the idea of them going somewhere really isolated and creepy. Also, it made sense, because with all the Scientologists in the town itself, it would be hard to hide a secret plot.
buffyx: And Jason not letting her in on everything keeps in line with what happens later. He's not willing to hand over all the information upfront.
He’s already convinced her to travel more than three thousand miles and he’s STILL not telling her what she wants to know. She's cross, and he won't stop fiddling with the stupid radio dials. Finally, she slaps his hand away and snaps, "WILL YOU QUIT ALREADY. I JUST WANT TO LISTEN TO 'BEHIND THESE FUCKING HAZEL EYES,' OKAY? OKAY."
Jason smirks, until it’s like he finally gets it into his skull that she's dead serious. Then he puffs out his lower lip and sighs dramatically, like boys do when they know they are about to get an earful.
buffyx: I have a total girlcrush on Kelly Clarkson, for the record. If loving her is wrong, I don't want to be right.
miss deviant: This was actually the first section I wrote after buffyx asked me to co-write. I had been brainstorming ideas all night and just as I fell into bed, this scene came to my head. I had to pull my laptop onto my pillow and type it all out in an e-mail. For the record, I ALSO love Kelly Clarkson.
buffyx: I like that she is on edge and just wants to listen to the song, because one of my biggest pet peeves is people talking over the radio when it's a song I like. Especially when I'm stressed.
miss deviant: Oh, me too. I used to freak out if anyone tried to change "Escape" by Enrique Iglesias. I even had a little car dance I did.
"What's wrong?" he asks, exasperated. And a teeny tiny part of herself hates him then, because it's a sign he knows her well enough to be aware that when she gets like this, it's gonna take more than Kelly Clarkson to calm her down. She wonders when that happened.
"What's WRONG?" she echoes incredulously. "Let's see. I've flown cross country to take on one of the world's most powerful movie stars, who is a spokesmodel of one of the world's creepiest religions- no offense- and somehow I don't find it comforting that you're taking me to an unknown location in a vehicle ranked Most Likely to Survive an Apocalypse by Car and Driver Magazine for six years running."
miss deviant: I may have a TEENY TINY obsession with apocalypses.
buffyx: That makes two of us.
Kristen's chest tightens, her breathing ragged as she puts her fingertips to her temples. This was crazy. Staying at home with the dogs: not crazy. She had to learn to make better life choices, instead of being pulled up down and sideways by Jason Fucking Dohring and his Hummer-renting, Harlequin-Romance reading self. Even if he DID have really nice arms. Slowly, like he's afraid she's going to bite his watch off, Jason reaches over and flicks off the radio.
Then, he starts talking.
miss deviant: I wrote that one, right? I would like to bask in the glory for three seconds. *basks* Okay. I'm done.
buffyx: I'm not sure who coined Jason Fucking Dohring, but that is a nice paragraph. The arms comment clinches it.
miss deviant: Well, whoever said it first (and fine, it was probably NOT me), welcome to our favorite running gag!
buffyx: It's like Stonehenge. NOBODY KNOWS.
For the next twenty five minutes, she's regaled with his life story. How Scientology gave him everything he ever wanted: a career, a wife, a purpose in life, a pass to go to the front of the line on all the rides at Disneyland. And how, at twenty-two, he realized that maybe he had stopped getting everything he wanted, and started to get everything THEY wanted him to have - whether it was a part of his own life plan or not.
miss deviant: Jason opens up!
buffyx: This is really the start of our version of Jason, who is questioning his faith. It's the beginning of what ultimately leads to him exposing his DARK SIDE. He doesn't know WHAT to believe in! Woe! Angst! Turmoil!
She doesn't speak through most of the pauses, stopping him only once to ask, "So you don't believe that psychiatric drugs are the gateway to Satan?"
"Actually," he says slowly, "I still do."
He doesn't elaborate, and his eyes do not leave the road.
Kristen doesn't ask questions after that.
buffyx: Ann wrote this, and I like it because when she explained it to me, it made a lot of sense. And added to the complexity of Jason. She can explain what that moment means.
miss deviant: Well, it's really important to understand that even though this Jason is essentially rebelling against most of the things that he is known, he's still ingrained with a lot of the beliefs he was raised in. This is important because a) it's going to be really hard for him to do what he has to do, and emotional turmoil always makes for good fiction and b) he still has to believe that sex on a plane is not cheating. And he can only believe that if he still holds on to some tenets of his former faith.
buffyx: Right. He can't just shake it off overnight. The degree to which we hammered out Jason's characterization is kind of ridiculous. But we really developed him and once we did that, writing him became pretty easy. Or, not easy-- but knowing where he was going and what he was going to do came more easily. And there are still things we know he's going to do in the sequel because he has to do them. But we won't go into that here.
miss deviant: BE CAREFUL! DO NOT SPOIL OUR AUDIENCE! Anyway, I think that's a part of the reason that this started feeling less like, "Let's make these pretty people have gratuitous sex" and more like, "These are characters who may be based on real people, but they have their own motivations." And it's the difference between Jason Dohring, the actor, and Jason Fucking Dohring, the revolutionary.
buffyx: Yeah, one of the reasons I got over my issues with RPF is because it feels like they're basically original characters. I mean, we draw upon some facts and everything, but it's still building characters mostly from the ground up. I’m weirdly attached to them because they feel like they’re ours.
About another half hour passes before they cross back onto a main road, one that is actually paved and not screaming Impending-Death-At-The-Hands-Of-Incestuous-Redneck-Serial-Killing-Family, though it still looks like they're in the middle of nowhere.
Kristen props her Skechers up on the dashboard, reaching back and reclining her seat a bit. They eventually pull into the parking lot of a low-class hotel; Jason hasn't even cut the engine before she jumps out, letting her sunglasses slide back down from the top of her head.
"This?" She turns to him and stares. "We came all the way here for this?"
"Uh." A pause as he squints at the sign. "Yeah. Looks like."
He pops the backseat open, lifts two of the suitcases out, trudging past and toward the entrance without a word.
miss deviant: Strong AND helpful. I like that in a man!
buffyx: The idea is-- and I don't think we ever outright explained it-- that Jason has instructions to stay at this specific motel. And he knows Josh is involved, but not that he's going to actually show up there. I mean, this is what I assumed. I think missdeviant and I were on the same page.
miss deviant: That we were!
Jason has put down her bags and raises two fingers in a wave. "Hi," he says to the woman. "Reservation. It's under-" He hesitates and glances sideways at Kristen. "Steve Holt." She barely manages to repress a snort.
buffyx: Yeah, "Steve Holt" was my idea. My turn to bask!
miss deviant: I know.
buffyx: Though, missdeviant suggested Harry Hamlin. Which is also pretty hilarious!
miss deviant: It was a START!
buffyx: But, Steve Holt wins. Because-- you know-- STEVE HOLT. (I was doing the arm gesture there, but you can't see that.)
miss deviant: buffyx suggested we reference Arrested Development as much as possible. and I totally agreed. Sadly, I think this is our only (?) direct reference.
buffyx: And really, I would not even have come up with it had Ann not introduced me to its brilliance when I stayed with her in Austin!
miss deviant: Oh, man, you don't want this commentary to turn into a full on Austin reminisce, do you? Because I can talk about that weekend for HOURS. Actually, this whole fic kind of ended up being a full-on Austin reminiscence.
buffyx: This is true. That weekend spanned tens of thousands of jokes. Hey, REMEMBER THAT THING WITH THE THING?
miss deviant: HILARIOUS!
buffyx: Totally!
The woman checks a few things in her computer, hands an envelope to Jason, then reaches into a drawer and produces a set of keys. Real keys, not the kind that look like credit cards that most hotels use. They jingle as they slide across the counter.
One of the consolations is that it's a real hotel. An ugly and kind of smelly one, Kristen thinks, but it's not like the places Veronica Mars frequents. At least here, there's no ice machine outside the door and you don't have to walk outside along a cracked concrete sidewalk to get to your room.
Except, that's the problem: Room. Singular. As in, Jason fucked up the reservations.
"Look, you were a last minute addition!" he says defensively.
She glares. "Whatever. Look, I'll just go book another one. No problemo."
buffyx: OBVIOUSLY, they needed to share a room. However contrived getting them in there turned out, it had to be done. And really, the whole fic is full of cliches. It's part of its hilarity.
miss deviant: CLICHE BUT AWESOME was kind of a mantra while writing this.
buffyx: Exactly.
miss deviant: Actually, I don't think the whole room sharing thing was as cliche as some of the stuff we pulled later.
buffyx: Right. But, if anyone wants to know, the cliches strung throughout the entire story were purposeful. Really. There are parts that are supposed to read like a cheesy action blockbuster. Just more self-aware.
Kristen walks back to the lobby, hits the bell again and does her best Veronica impression. "Hi. I know I was just here but my friend- Steve? See, he made an eensy weensie mistake and only booked one room when we actually wanted TWO. So is it possible that I can get my own room?"
Kathy Bates gives her a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sorry honey, but there's a conference in town-" she begins.
"Even a different room. With two beds," Kristen cuts in. "He and I, well, we're not- and it would be weird if- I mean..." She trails off when the woman just turns around and walks to the back room, shaking her head.
"Well can I at least get a cot?" Kristen yells after her. Nothing.
Her mouth drops open. Oh, this place so just lost a star with that one.
miss deviant: Man, I love snarky, nonchalant Kathy Bates.
buffyx: I love the star line, too.
She stomps back into the room. "Damn plushies and their stupid covert conferences," she mutters under her breath.
"I'm guessing that didn't go well," Jason observes as she flops backward onto the bed.
"How observant of you," she states flatly. "I call the bed, by the way."
"Dude, like I care." He stretches his arms out over his head, and she's suddenly distracted by the patch of stomach that shows as his shirt slides up. Hello, Mr. Happy Trail. "Not like we're going to be doing much sleeping anyway."
buffyx: Plushies! Which are the same as furries, by the way.
miss deviant: Well, not quite. We had to do some research on that one.
buffyx: I’m still trying to repress. They’re very similar, at least.
miss deviant: Very similar. Plushies are often furries.
buffyx: I believe at some point we intended to namedrop Teddy Dunn as a plushie. I can't remember what happened to that, but it would have been HILARIOUS. Because we're mean. Or, I am, anyway.
miss deviant: We are. We kill kittens and eat them with toast.
buffyx: Whatever, it's not like I booed him in Austin! I have some class!
miss deviant: Man, you are just baiting me with this Austin shit. REMEMBER TIPTOES???
buffyx: OH GOD I KNOW. Let's stay focused, here.
miss deviant: Okay. So. MORE SEXUAL TENSION! And happy trails. And cliches.
buffyx: Oh, and I wrote the Happy Trail line. Hello, hotness!
miss deviant: FULL CREDIT TO HANNAH! EXTRA POINTS!
buffyx: Considering that Ann wrote like 97% of the actual smut, I claim credit for what little hotness I can.
Her heart plummets into her stomach-or, possibly, a few feet south of that- and she's pretty sure a strangled noise escaped from her throat. What did he just say?
Of course, he notices her silence. Of COURSE. Why did he have to pick this weekend to suddenly become in tune with her brain waves?
"Uh," she says. Attempts to swallow. "What are you- I don't- I mean…"
He lets out a little laughing sigh. "I don't know about your covert operations expertise, but it's not the way it looks on Alias. There are actual hours of planning that go into breaking into a high tech secret facility. Whole hours of planning, I might add, that don't include choosing a wig."
buffyx: Yay for manufactured sexual tension!
miss deviant: And wig-choosing! I thought a lot about the pacing of Alias when we wrote some of the later action scenes, so it seemed only fair that we give it a shoutout.
Jason turns, snatching a sheet of paper that must contain the hotel's channel list from off the top of the television. "Oh, look. This place gets the Food Network! How rad is that?"
"Quite rad indeed," she responds dryly, but the sarcasm seems to miss him by a mile. Or twelve.
"Look, we passed a bar on the way here," he says. "Want to go get something to drink?"
Alcohol actually does sound pretty awesome right now.
"Sure," Kristen agrees. "Let me go take a shower so I don't smell like airport."
Jason fidgets with the paper before putting it back onto the television. “Um. I'll go find something to do in the lobby while you-- whatever."
miss deviant: RAD!
buffyx: Of course, there had to be mockage of his embarrassing use of the word "rad." In fact, I'm surprised we didn't abuse it more.
miss deviant: I know, right? This was the only time we had him say it. Later, we became obsessed with the "or whatevers" and dropped 'rad' completely.
buffyx: The "dudes" kind of fell to the wayside, too.
miss deviant:I also love that he's watching the food network. Some debate went on over which channel would be sufficiently dorky yet also plausible for Jason (in all his earnestness) to like.
buffyx: The Food Network is brilliance. I think he has a season pass for Iron Chef. And gets, like, actually excited for the reveal of the secret ingredient. He's that level of dorky.
miss deviant: Oh, totally. And Lauren has gotten him hooked on Rachael Ray. It's why we love him. Well, that and the arms.
Kristen shoots him a simpering smile as he leaves the room. She hears the key turn in the door’s lock. Yeah. Good luck with finding something to do. Maybe he could get Kathy Bates’ sister to show him where she kept the extra antler.
Surprisingly, the ancient shower has amazing water pressure, and the hot steam does wonders for her mood. She closes her eyes, lets the water pour over her. By the time her feet hit the thin white towel that’s playing the role of a bath mat, she’s almost ready to forgive Jason for the one-room stunt.
Almost. Not completely, because to forgive him completely would mean she’d have to forgive him for the twisty feelings caused by that bare patch of stomach, and she’s not ready to go there yet. Nope. Not even going to dwell on that.
buffyx: Denial, denial, denial.
miss deviant: Oh, Kristen. Give in already. I also like the towel "playing the role" of the bathmat. It seems like such an actress-y way to observe things. it also implies that the towel is a pretty poor bathmat. Much like a llama would be a pretty poor alpaca.
buffyx: I like that Kristen isn't stupid. She just compartmentalizes. And I think from this part on we transitioned her from sounding less ditzy Valley Girl.
miss deviant: That was all MY influence. (Okay, not really.)
buffyx: Well, once you got on, I dropped the constant "oh my god"ing and there were less "whatever"s. Though she still does it on occasion. But the more she gets pulled into the scheme, the more serious she tends to become. Like, "Oh, so this isn't a joke? Huh." So it makes sense.
miss deviant: I agree.
Getting dressed is harder. Jason didn’t mention anything about the kind of attire required to infiltrate a Scientology stronghold, so she had kind of unloaded her closet into her bags. She hopes it doesn’t involve special robes, because those, she didn’t pack. As she rummages through her second suitcase, she wonders where she thought she was going to wear a silk halter dress.
Um, wait. Hello. Drinks. Dress. Unbeatable combination.
Besides, if a girl was going to die in the near future while completing a religious mission, she’d better spend her last hours on earth looking damn good.
miss deviant: Man, I remember spending about a half hour on shopintuition.com looking for a dress for kristen to wear. Also, Kristen is totally an overpacker. Remember that Jason hasn't really told her anything about what they're doing or how long they'll be gone - so she needs EVERYTHING.
buffyx: Packrat!
miss deviant: That will come into play later!
buffyx: A girl's gotta come prepared.
miss deviant: STOP SPOILERING OR I WILL CUT YOU!
buffyx: Oh whatever. Anyway, if I had her figure, I'd be dragging that dress everywhere I went too.
"What? You thought I'd break out my stealth turtleneck this early into the mission?"
"What do you think this is? The Ivy?”
They start walking across the small lobby towards the exit. Kristen’s heels click rapidly on the wooden floor.
"Don't look at me like that," she snaps.
"What? Looking-- there was no looking."
"You gave me that look!” She pivots to face him in front of the doorway. “That look that says I am high-maintenance. Which I am not. Now get me to the bar and order me a Bloody Mary, goddammit."
miss deviant: Stealth turtlenecks are so Seth Cohen.
buffyx: Bloody Marys are actually really disgusting. But I like that she doesn't just order frilly drinks. Homegirl can hold her liquor.
miss deviant: You chose Kristen's drink. I would have just given her a vodka on the rocks or something. Which - also not too shabby.
buffyx: I did, I know. Mostly because I like the sound of it. I do like how she gets pissed at him for looking at her like she's high-maintenance, then turns around and orders him to get her a drink. Hee.
miss deviant: I love that!
“Jason.” A smooth voice emerges from the coat room just inside the lobby’s door, and they both turn toward the noise. “Why don’t we get the lady what she wants?”
miss deviant: We kind of bandied about regarding where we should end this one. We always knew it was going to be Josh, but we considered revealing him at the end of the section.
buffyx: I like that it was all mysterious instead.
miss deviant: Of course, we soon realized that CLIFFHANGERS RULE! We're sorry for freaking you out and making you think it was Tom Cruise. I like the mysteriousity too. THE PLOT THICKENS!
buffyx: Cue the dramatic music!