Fic: Put Myself in the Picture of Success (RPF)
Title: Put Myself in the Picture of Success
Fandom: X-Files RPF
Pairing: David/Gillian
Rating: PG-13
Summary: David and Gillian horse around and reveal more than they meant to.
AN: Written for crazyvictoria's prompt in the homeby_five ficathon. The prompt was a photo of Gillian straddling David, and sadly the link no longer works!
The extra pouted when Chris confiscated the film from her camera. It wasn’t like she would have sold the pictures; she just wanted to look at them sometimes. Geez, some people were so paranoid.
**
Mitch walked out of the claustrophobia that was his trailer and into the watery Vancouver sunshine.
A yelp dragged his attention from the script he was reading and he looked up.
In the corner near a few discarded set pieces Gillian was straddling David and laughing at his feigned attempts to dislodge her.
For the most part the crew continued on around them, some smiling a little but no one really paying any attention. Mitch shook his head.
So this is what the set had come to - nothing these two did got anything other than a glance and a shrug these days - whether it was a screaming argument, complete with slammed trailer doors, or rolling around on unused prop pieces while people were trying to work.
Gillian raised a hand to David’s hair and Mitch flinched, wondering when this was going to end and just who was going to pick up the pieces.
He saw the flash of a camera and turned and walked in the other direction.
**
Chris sat back in his chair and groaned. Rubbing his temples till they hurt, he regretted the day Mulder and Scully came into his life.
He watched David and Gillian out of the corner of his eye when they burst out of her trailer, David obviously fleeing her wrath. She finally cornered him in the remnants of an autopsy set from last week, knocking him flat with the ease of an actress who did all her own stunts.
Their struggle intensified and then stopped abruptly as Gillian subdued her prey. He watched them with half an eye as he paged through the rough cut of next week’s script.
He watched them on set a lot, trying to capture some of what made them David and Gillian to understand Mulder and Scully better. But they were indefinable; they were the stars, even though they wailed about not being able to go to the store in sweat pants and David spent more time watching basketball in his trailer than he did with Gillian, an unseeable force still linked them together. They were Mulder and Scully.
He couldn’t look at them and not see it - most of the time he saw Mulder and Scully before he saw David and Gillian.
But it was his job to protect them - Mulder and Scully, but also David and Gillian - which is why he tried to keep unauthorized set pictures to a minimum. He took the extra’s film, despite her protests, and walked back to his chair. David would thank him later.
He would look at the film tomorrow; see if there was anything he could work into a script.
**
He was supposed to be cataloguing the props from the medical examiner’s set - all the scalpels and drapes and pans had to make their way to the FBI lab set later this week, and it was his job to make sure that nothing got lost in the shuffle.
Things had a tendency to get lost in the shuffle. Especially on this set.
Which is why he, James Martin, second assistant prop master, was currently wishing Gillian would get off David and they would both just go away.
If David would take his hands off of her hips, then Gillian could slide back onto the floor with easy nonchalance and they would both go to their separate trailers. Maybe.
Because, he really needed to disassemble and pack the autopsy table they were on, and what was he supposed to do? Inform the show’s stars that really, yes, they were in his way and he’d like them to move now please? Probably not going to happen.
Attempting to ignore them he organized the background machines that looked like various pieces of lab equipment. Big shiny metal one went over here in this box, other big shiny metal one went in the other box.
A thump and what might uncharitably be described as a squeal brought his attention back to the two people preventing him from doing his job. David had Gillian pinned to the table now, and was smirking at her attempts to free herself. James figured he didn’t really mind all the writhing she was doing.
He wouldn’t, if he were David.
James admitted to being a little bit in love with Gillian, though from what other crewmembers had said in his hearing that was a pretty typical state of affairs on this set. He had only been working on the X-Files for two months, so all he knew was that she was always laughing and her hair shone when the sun hit it.
Also she could hardly be matched for deviousness - in the blink of an eye David was on his back again and Gillian was laughing.
The click of a shutter whirred from somewhere behind him and he wondered if it would be the Enquirer this week, or something slightly more reputable, like People.
He sighed and went back to work.
**
David’s thighs were warm between hers and she exulted in her strength as she pinned him to the autopsy table.
His eyes were warm and smiling; the glint of wariness hidden there must have been a trick of the light.
She squeezed his hands and he squeezed back.
The table was hard under her knees, but she resisted the impulse to rest all of her weight on David. They were just playing.
She liked that they could play like this - be like this - and no one really cared.
Gillian heard the camera but ignored it, choosing instead to lean down and kiss David on his abnormally large nose.
He shifted under her and she grinned down at him, unrepentant.
**
David really hoped Téa would never see those pictures.
End
Fandom: X-Files RPF
Pairing: David/Gillian
Rating: PG-13
Summary: David and Gillian horse around and reveal more than they meant to.
AN: Written for crazyvictoria's prompt in the homeby_five ficathon. The prompt was a photo of Gillian straddling David, and sadly the link no longer works!
The extra pouted when Chris confiscated the film from her camera. It wasn’t like she would have sold the pictures; she just wanted to look at them sometimes. Geez, some people were so paranoid.
**
Mitch walked out of the claustrophobia that was his trailer and into the watery Vancouver sunshine.
A yelp dragged his attention from the script he was reading and he looked up.
In the corner near a few discarded set pieces Gillian was straddling David and laughing at his feigned attempts to dislodge her.
For the most part the crew continued on around them, some smiling a little but no one really paying any attention. Mitch shook his head.
So this is what the set had come to - nothing these two did got anything other than a glance and a shrug these days - whether it was a screaming argument, complete with slammed trailer doors, or rolling around on unused prop pieces while people were trying to work.
Gillian raised a hand to David’s hair and Mitch flinched, wondering when this was going to end and just who was going to pick up the pieces.
He saw the flash of a camera and turned and walked in the other direction.
**
Chris sat back in his chair and groaned. Rubbing his temples till they hurt, he regretted the day Mulder and Scully came into his life.
He watched David and Gillian out of the corner of his eye when they burst out of her trailer, David obviously fleeing her wrath. She finally cornered him in the remnants of an autopsy set from last week, knocking him flat with the ease of an actress who did all her own stunts.
Their struggle intensified and then stopped abruptly as Gillian subdued her prey. He watched them with half an eye as he paged through the rough cut of next week’s script.
He watched them on set a lot, trying to capture some of what made them David and Gillian to understand Mulder and Scully better. But they were indefinable; they were the stars, even though they wailed about not being able to go to the store in sweat pants and David spent more time watching basketball in his trailer than he did with Gillian, an unseeable force still linked them together. They were Mulder and Scully.
He couldn’t look at them and not see it - most of the time he saw Mulder and Scully before he saw David and Gillian.
But it was his job to protect them - Mulder and Scully, but also David and Gillian - which is why he tried to keep unauthorized set pictures to a minimum. He took the extra’s film, despite her protests, and walked back to his chair. David would thank him later.
He would look at the film tomorrow; see if there was anything he could work into a script.
**
He was supposed to be cataloguing the props from the medical examiner’s set - all the scalpels and drapes and pans had to make their way to the FBI lab set later this week, and it was his job to make sure that nothing got lost in the shuffle.
Things had a tendency to get lost in the shuffle. Especially on this set.
Which is why he, James Martin, second assistant prop master, was currently wishing Gillian would get off David and they would both just go away.
If David would take his hands off of her hips, then Gillian could slide back onto the floor with easy nonchalance and they would both go to their separate trailers. Maybe.
Because, he really needed to disassemble and pack the autopsy table they were on, and what was he supposed to do? Inform the show’s stars that really, yes, they were in his way and he’d like them to move now please? Probably not going to happen.
Attempting to ignore them he organized the background machines that looked like various pieces of lab equipment. Big shiny metal one went over here in this box, other big shiny metal one went in the other box.
A thump and what might uncharitably be described as a squeal brought his attention back to the two people preventing him from doing his job. David had Gillian pinned to the table now, and was smirking at her attempts to free herself. James figured he didn’t really mind all the writhing she was doing.
He wouldn’t, if he were David.
James admitted to being a little bit in love with Gillian, though from what other crewmembers had said in his hearing that was a pretty typical state of affairs on this set. He had only been working on the X-Files for two months, so all he knew was that she was always laughing and her hair shone when the sun hit it.
Also she could hardly be matched for deviousness - in the blink of an eye David was on his back again and Gillian was laughing.
The click of a shutter whirred from somewhere behind him and he wondered if it would be the Enquirer this week, or something slightly more reputable, like People.
He sighed and went back to work.
**
David’s thighs were warm between hers and she exulted in her strength as she pinned him to the autopsy table.
His eyes were warm and smiling; the glint of wariness hidden there must have been a trick of the light.
She squeezed his hands and he squeezed back.
The table was hard under her knees, but she resisted the impulse to rest all of her weight on David. They were just playing.
She liked that they could play like this - be like this - and no one really cared.
Gillian heard the camera but ignored it, choosing instead to lean down and kiss David on his abnormally large nose.
He shifted under her and she grinned down at him, unrepentant.
**
David really hoped Téa would never see those pictures.
End