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"CUT! Aaaaand that's a wrap for today, people! Good work, good work. We met again in the studio at five! Be sharp!" Director Neil Nadleman called on the set of Slayers TRY. The cast and crew snapped out of production phase and started to wander off in their own directions. This was the third, and possibly final season, of Slayers and it was crunch time. It was too soon yet to tell if they would finish filming before their deadline. Tara Jayne walked over to the ladies' dressing room, shrugging off the cumbersome cape and slipping off the heavy headdress. Damn, but the lights were bright in there. It had been a long day. David could not seem to find his proper "motivation" for the first half, and Veronica had been getting on everyone's nerves. Not to mention Lisa threatened to walk off the set several times, and would have if Eric had not stopped her. Scottie had mostly been an observer during filming, trying desperately to hide his smile at everyone's suffering. Tara raked a hand through her long hair. It was all her own, and not a wig as the rabid fans constantly claimed. She wished it were a wig, then she could take it off now. The weight of all that blond hair was causing her headaches. Not that her co-stars were completely innocent either, but she just wanted her hair to be short for a time, just to see what it was like. As soon as they were done filming, she would get it cut. For now, she just put it in a haphazard bun at the nape of her neck. Slipping out of her white boots, Tara thought about what would happen after this gig. She would probably go back and finish up college. It was not as if she was getting offers left and right, although there was that one porno offer with Crispin. But there was no way in HELL that was going to happen. She was going to miss everybody after this. After all, the Slayers had their moments. Tara smiled to herself, yep, they did have their moments, didn't they? She was done taking off her costume and slipped on her pink gingham summer dress that was cut just above her knees with had a square neck and thin little straps. Tara grabbed a white scünci off of her dressing table to secure her half falling-apart bun as she searched with her toes underneath her table for her pink flip-flops. She located one as she grabbed her locker key out of the drawer of her dressing table. Exasperated, Tara finally bent down to the ground to search for her other flip-flop. "A-ha! There you ar-DAMNIT!" She had become a bit too excited and whammed her head on a support beam of the dressing table. This day was so not helping her in the headache department as she slipped on her flip-flop and make her way out to the actors' break room. * * * Scottie Ray had to laugh, just f*cking laugh at the shit that had been pulled today. Leaning back precariously in one of the wooden chairs around a scarred table, he had a hand over his forehead and could not stop giggling inanely to himself. Addie and Lisa had to deal with faulty pyrotechnics for the most part of the day. After several smoke bombs in the face and an equal amount of the reapplication of make up, she had threatened to walk off the set. Eric had pulled her aside, however, and somehow managed to talk her into finishing the day's shoot. Scottie knew, as every other damn person involved with Slayers, that there was something going on between those two. Hey, the tabloids had to be right ever once in a while, didn't they? As far as he was concerned, Scottie had the best role in this series. Not too much make-up, prosthetics, wigs, or costumes. Luckily all he had to have on his head was a half wig, the rest of his hair was dyed the same color. He felt really sorry sometimes for Crispin, it took a crew of six three hours to have him ready for the camera. Never in a million years would Scottie ever subject himself to that. Although, he did have to begrudgingly admire Crispin's dedication to his acting. He shook his head to himself as he suddenly remembered reading about Crispin and Tara's porno offer. That had been a real shocker. Although he supposed not really. After all, Tara was an emerging actress with her first big gig. It was only natural in this town to get a porno offer at least one or twice. After all, Tara had a great ass. But then again, so did Veronica...until she opened her mouth. God, but she had an annoying voice. Scottie leaned his head back and stretched his arms a little. He was just wearing a pair of jeans and some leather sandals. His shirt was lying on the table, but he was too lazy to pull it over his head. Lisa, Eric, Addie, and Veronica had all left by now and David was probably still "in a meeting" with Neil. Sometimes he could be a real arrogant prick. Crispin would be here a least another hour before they got all his make-up and prosthetics off. It was pretty quiet out there now. He had left the door to the break room open, having been too lazy to close it after him as well. Leaning over he flipped in the small portable radio and searched for his station. No hype, just music from the 60's, 70's, and 80's. Damn, commercials. Shrugging to himself, he slid the radio back on the table and decided to wait them out. He slid his fingers together and cradled the back of his head as he leaned ever further back in the chair. He zoned for a minute until he heard a sound coming towards him from the hallway. It was a distinctive flip- flopping sound. He looked towards the door and was rewarded a few seconds later when Tara made her entrance. Good, so she was still here after all. Not that he had been waiting for her, per se. Her hair was all messy and wispping everywhere; charmingly so. A stylist would have charged a fortune for what her hair did all on its own. Not that he waxing poetic about her hair though. Abruptly, he leaned forward and the chair came down hard on all four of its legs. "Hey, Filia," he drawled. She paused in the doorway for a minute until she caught on to his game. That and when she finally managed to tear her eyes from his bare chest. Smiling slowly, she replied, "Hey, Valgaav. I didn't know you were still here." She walked to her locker and went to get out her purse. Scottie shrugged and made an incoherent sound. Tara was rummaging around in her purse and asked him suddenly, "Say, do you have any aspirin or Tylenol or something?" She pulled her purse out of her locker, locked it and slipped the key into her purse. "Naw, sorry. Got a headache after today's...activities?" Tara heaved a sigh at his words. "Yeah. Don't you?" she asked looking at him pointedly. He just shrugged again. Then he kicked out one of the chairs across from him, "Take a seat for a minute." She smiled appreciatively, and threw her white drawstring purse on the table and sank down into the chair. She looked back up at him again. "Thanks." At that moment, David was stomping down the hall to his dressing room. The little bastard had his own dressing room, how the hell had that happened? Tara winced as he slammed his door. Scottie placed his steepled fingers against his lips before speaking. "I take it the 'meeting' with our illustrious Director Neil didn't go too well." She laughed weakly at that and they looked out of the corner of their eyes at each other before laughing a little harder. Suddenly, his door was opened roughly and David's voice rang out in the quiet, "Where's my cappuccino?!" With a disgusted look, Tara kicked the door to the break room shut. That impressed Scottie mightily, he did not know that she had that in her. David: 0, Tara: 1. "Hey! I didn't know you listened to this station!" Tara broke out suddenly with a wide smile on her face. He smiled back, "It's the only station worth listening to." Just then a song was coming on and Scottie decided to sing along. Hey, anything by Three Dog Night was worth singing along to. "Just an old fashioned love song playing on the radio/ And wrapped around the music is the sound of someone promising they'll never go." Tara was still smiling, only now she was watching him intently.
"You swear you've heard it before as it slowly rambles on and
on/ Now she was humming softly along with him. He let her take the next stanza.
"To weave our dreams upon and listen to each evening when the
lights are low/ Scottie smiled appreciatively. She had a great voice to go along with that great ass.
"You swear you've heard it before as it slowly rambles on and
on/ This time they took up the tune and lyrics together and harmonized. The whole time grinning at each other like fools.
"Just an old-fashioned love song/ They both messed up on the following lyric, being too amused with each other to pay much attention. "To weave our dreams upon and listening to a song . . ." Laughing, they tried to get back on track for the fade out,
"Just an old-fashioned love song/ "Are you hungry?" Tara asked as she slung her purse strap over her head and shoulder. Oh shit, was she asking him out? This chick was gutsy. Not that he didn't like it or anything. Averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck, Scottie replied, "Yeah, I guess so. Why?" She just shrugged and fluttered her lashes at him, "Oh, it's just that I know this really nice outdoor Bistro within walking distance and I was just wondering if you'd like to escort me there. And maybe stay to join me." Whoa, she said Bistro. How many women of his normal association said Bistro? Whoa, he was just officially asked out on a date. Whoa. Ex-Girlfriend: 0, Tara: 1. Scottie rose up from his chair, threw on his black "Dark Lords Kick Ass" T-shirt, flipped off the radio, and bowed before Tara. Rising, he presented her with his hand; open and palm up, "M'lady." Tara giggled as she placed her hand in his and he helped her up from the chair. "Good Sir," she replied. Opening the door for her, Scottie noticed that she had forgotten to remove her dragon ears. Suited him just fine, he thought they made her look really cute. Cute and sexy. Not that he had a thing for ears or anything, but he decided to keep this information to himself tonight. As Scottie tucked her arm inside his and lead her down the hallway, Tara could not help but notice that her headache was not so bad anymore. * * * Everyone had left it seemed and it was dark, but the light in the break room was still on. Throwing open the door to the empty room, David yelled, "Where's my cappuccino?!"
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