Hi, it's been like a frigging month. Not on.
Title - Sometimes Myths Actually Are Good Metaphors For Life.
Author - Sarah sailorscully
Pairing - RPF - Kate Walsh/Eric Dane
Rating - NC-17
Spoilers - not really.
Words - 1,360
Notes - MERRY FRIGGING LATE CHRISTMAS, __inadream. NOW I CAN MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. <3
Kate had a headache.
Kate had a headache, and despite the fact that she was trying to hide it, there were signs. Signs like the fact that she inadvertantly would pinch the bridge of her nose between takes, feet dangling off the side of the set's tacky hotel room bed, or the fact that although she was trying to be her usual goofy, cheery self, she turned aside discreetly and winced every time Ellen laughed or Dempsey talked or every time she saw Dempsey's wife walk past holding some sort of hair utensil.
Eric was concerned.
Kate got headaches, sometimes. So did Katie. Migraines, even. And they commiserated. A lot. They were always in each others' trailers, watching movies, eating crap food and just...laughing and talking. Being girls. At least, that's what Eric assumed they did. He wasn't particularly up to par on the habits of the other sex. Women were mystical beings, in his mind - even Rebecca was hard to understand. And...now his thoughts were drifting. The point was, Kate and Katie were usually each other's go-to people when they weren't feeling well.
Kate had a headache, and today? Today, Katie was shooting on an external set, about twenty miles away.
So Eric decided to take matters into his own hands. It was part of his job, anyways - part of his job as an actor to make sure the show ran smoothly, to make sure his fellow actors were always okay.
So he kissed her, passionately so - they were shooting a hotel room scene, after all - and they wrapped up the take, directors satisfied, finally. Kate shook her head, trying to clear it, when Eric spoke up.
"Hey, you don't look so good...I have some cold medicine and tylenol you could use. And some soup. I can make damn good soup. Wanna come over?" he said softly to her, one hand on her shoulder. Kate turned around, eyelids drooping, and nodded.
"'Kay...that sounds good, actually. I think...I think my partying is catching up with me," she said, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper.
Eric smirked. Yes, that would make sense, Kate - you party like you're twenty-three, which you probably shouldn't do at almost-forty, he thought (but would never ever say.)
Kate tottered off to Eric's trailer, leaning on his arm the whole way. She was cute, he thought. Really cute.
"Why's your trailer so far?" she muttered, grumpy. Eric shook his head.
"Kate, my trailer's like...second closest to the set, after Dempsey's."
"Why doesn't anyone call him Patrick?" she wondered, giggling.
Half an hour later, Kate was sleeping in Eric's small trailer bed, shivering. She was running a small fever, and Eric didn't want to bother anyone else. Besides, why should he? Pretty much everyone else was busy shooting scenes. Luckily for them, they were done shooting for the day.
So he covered her with a few blankets, and sat down beside her, watching her carefully.
He sat for a while, the better part of an hour, thinking about her, watching her sleep. Kate was an enigma; she fell so completely into her character, and it always took her a little while to get out of character - or so it seemed. She always made Addison-eyes at him for at least ten minutes after every take.
He looked over, and started; there she was, doing it again. Those eyes - they were a really piercing blue, now that he looked - really looked - at them. Her fever was gone, her eyes clear, and her Addison eyes killed him. Not that he'd ever willingly admit that.
She's sitting up, he realized, she must be okay, and probably she's wondering why she's in my bed....
and she's kissing me. KISSING me.
KISSING ME?
He pulled away, a little startled.
Maybe. Maybe the Addison-for-Mark eyes, he realized? Weren't Addison eyes at all.
He leaned closer, to scrutinize her face, brow furrowed.
Maybe they're Kate for Eric eyes.
She didn't say anything, but a small smile grew on her face. She was obviously feeling better, at least - and that was the last thing Eric thought before Kate pulled him down beside her on the bed. She snuggled her face into his shoulder, and took a deep breath.
"You know, those scenes we've been filming? Have been giving me some pretty bad ideas," she whispered, voice low and rough. He shivered,almost afraid to look at her. But he couldn't resist, and his eyes flickered down, giving into temptation.
He'd had feelings for Kate, sure, back when they filmed season two. She was hot, she was hilarious, everyone loved her, and her eyes were always sparkling. But he'd left to do other things, and then there'd been Rebecca, and he'd gotten married, happily, and he'd nearly forgotten about Kate. Not forgotten, actually - pushed her to the back of his mind.
But then there was this season, and the sex scenes, and - Christ, Kate was reaching towards him, now -
- and there it was - Kate's mouth on his again, her long, slender fingers tracing lines along his collarbone, and the thought crossed his mind that maybe, probably, right now, he was like that chick from that Greek myth, the one who was pulled to Hell for looking back at something she was told not to. Yes, that was it - Rebecca was his Orpheus, and Kate his Hades, and he was the one getting screwed by temptation, now.
Well, that Greek chick ended up in Hell eventually, he told himself, before dipping his head to lick and breathe and kiss along Kate's collarbone. Why not enjoy the trip?
So he relaxed, and Kate took the opportunity to push him onto his back. She straddled him, undid the buttons on his shirt, and kissed a long line down his chest, from his lips to his navel.
He reached his hands up to touch her, and she let him, actually - let him slide her shirt off and toss it to the floor, let him touch the sides of her ribs and stomach and dance his fingers lightly over her red-silk-covered breasts (that was ADDISON's bra, he told himself, amused.) Kate whimpered softly, red-painted nails resting dangerously on his chest, hair tumbling in her face.
And from there everything was a whirlwind in Eric's mind - a whirlwind of shedding clothes, touching, feeling, body heat radiating from everywhere and every part of both of them, and Kate's eyes - Kate's eyes, staring directly into his, were ice in the midst of fire, sending chills through his nervous system, making his hands shake and his entire body stiffen. He slipped his hand between them, arm brushing against her breasts, fingers reaching and stretching and there, he made her gasp, twisting and rubbing against her center as best he could. And there, he froze again, because he didn't realize how Kate had been positioning herself above his shaft, enough so that at the slightest touch? She gasped and sank herself onto him, suddenly, so suddenly.
And still, she stared at him - eyes hooded, shoulders back - stared at him all throughout, all while she fucked him, and he hung on, fingers grasping her thighs harder and tighter, and there - THERE, his eyes rolled back and he groaned, sinking back onto the bed.
He rolled her to the side, and Kate blushed, cheeks red and eyes averted and so....Kate, of her, so unlike her character, so... un-Addison of her. Eric grinned (Mark's character was creeping into his personality, on the other hand!) and leaned over her, fingers twisting on her clit, again. And suddenly her nails were sunk in his back, and her own back was arching, her eyes were rolling, her mouth open in a silent scream.
She collapsed back on the bed, breathing hard, and Eric watched her, tracing little circles on her stomach, soothing her, smiling gently. She looked up at him, eyes hooded, voice scratchy.
"Thanks for making me feel better, Eric."
"No problem."
"Eric? We have got to make Shonda write us a real sex scene."
Eric laughed.
If this was hell?
Orpheus could go fuck herself.
Author - Sarah sailorscully
Pairing - RPF - Kate Walsh/Eric Dane
Rating - NC-17
Spoilers - not really.
Words - 1,360
Notes - MERRY FRIGGING LATE CHRISTMAS, __inadream. NOW I CAN MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. <3
Kate had a headache.
Kate had a headache, and despite the fact that she was trying to hide it, there were signs. Signs like the fact that she inadvertantly would pinch the bridge of her nose between takes, feet dangling off the side of the set's tacky hotel room bed, or the fact that although she was trying to be her usual goofy, cheery self, she turned aside discreetly and winced every time Ellen laughed or Dempsey talked or every time she saw Dempsey's wife walk past holding some sort of hair utensil.
Eric was concerned.
Kate got headaches, sometimes. So did Katie. Migraines, even. And they commiserated. A lot. They were always in each others' trailers, watching movies, eating crap food and just...laughing and talking. Being girls. At least, that's what Eric assumed they did. He wasn't particularly up to par on the habits of the other sex. Women were mystical beings, in his mind - even Rebecca was hard to understand. And...now his thoughts were drifting. The point was, Kate and Katie were usually each other's go-to people when they weren't feeling well.
Kate had a headache, and today? Today, Katie was shooting on an external set, about twenty miles away.
So Eric decided to take matters into his own hands. It was part of his job, anyways - part of his job as an actor to make sure the show ran smoothly, to make sure his fellow actors were always okay.
So he kissed her, passionately so - they were shooting a hotel room scene, after all - and they wrapped up the take, directors satisfied, finally. Kate shook her head, trying to clear it, when Eric spoke up.
"Hey, you don't look so good...I have some cold medicine and tylenol you could use. And some soup. I can make damn good soup. Wanna come over?" he said softly to her, one hand on her shoulder. Kate turned around, eyelids drooping, and nodded.
"'Kay...that sounds good, actually. I think...I think my partying is catching up with me," she said, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper.
Eric smirked. Yes, that would make sense, Kate - you party like you're twenty-three, which you probably shouldn't do at almost-forty, he thought (but would never ever say.)
Kate tottered off to Eric's trailer, leaning on his arm the whole way. She was cute, he thought. Really cute.
"Why's your trailer so far?" she muttered, grumpy. Eric shook his head.
"Kate, my trailer's like...second closest to the set, after Dempsey's."
"Why doesn't anyone call him Patrick?" she wondered, giggling.
Half an hour later, Kate was sleeping in Eric's small trailer bed, shivering. She was running a small fever, and Eric didn't want to bother anyone else. Besides, why should he? Pretty much everyone else was busy shooting scenes. Luckily for them, they were done shooting for the day.
So he covered her with a few blankets, and sat down beside her, watching her carefully.
He sat for a while, the better part of an hour, thinking about her, watching her sleep. Kate was an enigma; she fell so completely into her character, and it always took her a little while to get out of character - or so it seemed. She always made Addison-eyes at him for at least ten minutes after every take.
He looked over, and started; there she was, doing it again. Those eyes - they were a really piercing blue, now that he looked - really looked - at them. Her fever was gone, her eyes clear, and her Addison eyes killed him. Not that he'd ever willingly admit that.
She's sitting up, he realized, she must be okay, and probably she's wondering why she's in my bed....
and she's kissing me. KISSING me.
KISSING ME?
He pulled away, a little startled.
Maybe. Maybe the Addison-for-Mark eyes, he realized? Weren't Addison eyes at all.
He leaned closer, to scrutinize her face, brow furrowed.
Maybe they're Kate for Eric eyes.
She didn't say anything, but a small smile grew on her face. She was obviously feeling better, at least - and that was the last thing Eric thought before Kate pulled him down beside her on the bed. She snuggled her face into his shoulder, and took a deep breath.
"You know, those scenes we've been filming? Have been giving me some pretty bad ideas," she whispered, voice low and rough. He shivered,almost afraid to look at her. But he couldn't resist, and his eyes flickered down, giving into temptation.
He'd had feelings for Kate, sure, back when they filmed season two. She was hot, she was hilarious, everyone loved her, and her eyes were always sparkling. But he'd left to do other things, and then there'd been Rebecca, and he'd gotten married, happily, and he'd nearly forgotten about Kate. Not forgotten, actually - pushed her to the back of his mind.
But then there was this season, and the sex scenes, and - Christ, Kate was reaching towards him, now -
- and there it was - Kate's mouth on his again, her long, slender fingers tracing lines along his collarbone, and the thought crossed his mind that maybe, probably, right now, he was like that chick from that Greek myth, the one who was pulled to Hell for looking back at something she was told not to. Yes, that was it - Rebecca was his Orpheus, and Kate his Hades, and he was the one getting screwed by temptation, now.
Well, that Greek chick ended up in Hell eventually, he told himself, before dipping his head to lick and breathe and kiss along Kate's collarbone. Why not enjoy the trip?
So he relaxed, and Kate took the opportunity to push him onto his back. She straddled him, undid the buttons on his shirt, and kissed a long line down his chest, from his lips to his navel.
He reached his hands up to touch her, and she let him, actually - let him slide her shirt off and toss it to the floor, let him touch the sides of her ribs and stomach and dance his fingers lightly over her red-silk-covered breasts (that was ADDISON's bra, he told himself, amused.) Kate whimpered softly, red-painted nails resting dangerously on his chest, hair tumbling in her face.
And from there everything was a whirlwind in Eric's mind - a whirlwind of shedding clothes, touching, feeling, body heat radiating from everywhere and every part of both of them, and Kate's eyes - Kate's eyes, staring directly into his, were ice in the midst of fire, sending chills through his nervous system, making his hands shake and his entire body stiffen. He slipped his hand between them, arm brushing against her breasts, fingers reaching and stretching and there, he made her gasp, twisting and rubbing against her center as best he could. And there, he froze again, because he didn't realize how Kate had been positioning herself above his shaft, enough so that at the slightest touch? She gasped and sank herself onto him, suddenly, so suddenly.
And still, she stared at him - eyes hooded, shoulders back - stared at him all throughout, all while she fucked him, and he hung on, fingers grasping her thighs harder and tighter, and there - THERE, his eyes rolled back and he groaned, sinking back onto the bed.
He rolled her to the side, and Kate blushed, cheeks red and eyes averted and so....Kate, of her, so unlike her character, so... un-Addison of her. Eric grinned (Mark's character was creeping into his personality, on the other hand!) and leaned over her, fingers twisting on her clit, again. And suddenly her nails were sunk in his back, and her own back was arching, her eyes were rolling, her mouth open in a silent scream.
She collapsed back on the bed, breathing hard, and Eric watched her, tracing little circles on her stomach, soothing her, smiling gently. She looked up at him, eyes hooded, voice scratchy.
"Thanks for making me feel better, Eric."
"No problem."
"Eric? We have got to make Shonda write us a real sex scene."
Eric laughed.
If this was hell?
Orpheus could go fuck herself.