The Question,
by Pic
Rated: Mild M
Pairing: I don't really know what category this really is - I'll call it - Matthew (from Lunch w/Charles - with some het overtones
(undertones?).Spoilers: Nearly infinitesimal for Lunch with Charles.
Summary: It is April Fool's Day and Matthew is done with his assignment mentioned in Real People (don't need to have read a word of that story to get this one), but he can't go back home just yet.
Disclaimer: Recognizable characters aren't mine.
Author's Notes: It isn't so funny, but what can I say - you've seen the t-shirt design. Thanks to Missy for the information on Tarot cards and the reading - any errors that are in this text are mine.
Beta: Missy again for a beta effort hampered by not knowing the character, although some screen caps helped a little.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Kelly Morgan stood for a moment at the French doors, looking out at the man on the deck of the large two-story beach house. Waiting and simmering, threatening to boil over, if she was any judge of character. Who knew how long he'd been out there? She could see Jaz's press packets for the soap and movie lying on a chair next to his briefcase.
Irritated, Kel shook her head at the stupidity of Helene the Hun. Playing power games with journalists was a stupid, petty way to get your strokes. Jaz had her first real movie role to publicize, and Kel couldn't stand by and let her production company's project crash and burn. Helene had already played the egomaniac, rejecting the first writer the magazine had proposed. Now, she and Jaz were antagonizing the replacement.
Kel couldn't do anything about the attitude but she had to try to smooth over the rough treatment. Hopefully keep the guy from trashing the movie in retaliation. It wasn't high art but it was a significant step up for her, a lucky break so early in her career, really, and Kel wanted, if at all possible, to keep him from forming a negative bias against the film.
Her non-professional assessment came as naturally as breathing -- tall, lean, loose-limbed and rangy. He was staring at the ocean so she couldn't see his face but his hair was dark and a little windblown. Tossing the thought that she'd lately spent far too much time assessing rather than interacting aside, she took a deep breath for courage, in case she was too late and he was already too angry to bother with polite. To open the door, she shifted the two bottles into one hand and stepped out on the deck. "Hi," she said.
He jumped and quickly turned to face her. "Hi," he replied automatically, half way to her with his right hand extended before he stopped in puzzlement. Kel knew the instant he realized that she wasn't the star he was expecting. "Who are you?" he blurted with an edge in his voice. "Are you the stylist? If you are, can you just get her out here? No pictures today. There're plenty of stock photos in those," he added, gesturing toward the materials he'd set aside. "Including several from the film that haven't seen the light of day yet, so "
He was older than she'd expected and far better looking. With a smile, Kel held out one of the beers. "I'm not Jaz's stylist. Think of me as the long overdue welcome wagon."
Looking from her to the beer, he began, "I don't usually "
Grinning at the longing in his voice as it trailed off, she murmured, "My name's Kelly. Everyone who knows me calls me Kel and could tell you that I hate to drink alone." Her eyes were alive with amusement as she lifted one beer bottle to her lips and wiggled the other to call his attention back to it.
"Why not?" he muttered. "The way my day is going, I could use one." Taking the bottle, he smiled. "Thanks, Kel. I'm Matthew, the interviewer. What's your connection to the star?"
Sensing he meant nothing by it, she hid her irritation at being defined by association with another person behind humor. "So, Matthew, the interviewer, how do you know I'm not domestic help, breaking the cardinal seen and not heard rule?"
For the first time, Matthew really looked at her. Kel knew what he saw. Tall. Pale skin dusted with the faintest of freckles. Red hair that was too bright to be anything but natural or a dye job gone a tad overboard. Short shorts, a tight, cropped t-shirt and battered running shoes. Nothing to sneeze at but in this town, where you couldn't help but trip over beautiful people, nothing to write home about either.
"You'd be out of uniform, if you were."
She laughed and he focused for a moment on her mouth, making her glad she'd at least slapped on some lipstick before emerging. "I guess," Kel admitted, sipping her beer and glancing past him to the ocean. "I work for Sanctuary Productions."
"The meat cleaver people," Matthew noted with a grin.
She made a face, pouting briefly. Not that it was an entirely inaccurate description of a movie that featured an over the top homicidal ex-boyfriend with a fondness for sharp implements and a caustic sense of humor. "I'm an Associate Producer." Before he could leap to any conclusions based on her age or anything else, she added, "I insisted on the title to see if they'd actually give it to me." Shaking her head, still not quite able to believe that her aggressive ploy had worked, she clarified, "My day and night job is keeping Jaz out of trouble."
"How tough is that?"
"Are we off the record, Matthew?"
Falling into step with her as she moved to the deck railing, he shrugged and said, "If you want us to be."
After regarding him thoughtfully for a moment, she suggested, "Why don't we say that we are and then talk about whatever you think you might want to use later?"
"That's fine with me."
Smiling, she clinked her beer bottle against his and brought hers to her lips. When he followed her example, her smile broadened, eyes sparkling.
"Did we just drink to something?" Matthew asked warily.
"I don't know, yet," Kel murmured, tossing her hair back with a flip of her free hand.
There was a challenge in her manner and, to her surprise, Matthew responded. Leaning one forearm on the railing, but facing her instead of the ocean, he let his eyes move over her slowly, lingering just an instant in all the right places. Long before he ended his perusal, she'd become incredibly aware of everywhere his eyes had paused.
Pleasantly off balance, Kel wasn't sure what to do or say, but he bailed her out by rephrasing his earlier question. "How taxing is it to keep Jaz - is that with a z or an s, by the way -- in line?"
She blinked a time or two before deciding which of his questions to answer first. "With a z. Only one, though, or Helene will have your ass for breakfast."
"If that's the Nazi manager, not even in her wildest fantasies," Matthew firmly asserted, and the smile that he'd suppressed before escaped captivity.
Giggling, Kel bit her lip and wondered if she should share. Matthew's expression was encouraging and attentive, a professional journalist's 'you can trust me' look that she immediately dismissed. There was something in his eyes, though, that said trustworthy in a way that she could accept.
"If Helene even allows herself to have fantasies, you wouldn't star in them, Matthew."
"Not her type, huh?"
"Not even close," she murmured, inviting him closer with her tone.
Clearly warming to the game, Matthew stepped next to Kel, lowered his voice and amusedly asked, "Is that so?"
Mildly surprised that her signals were interpretable, given her extreme lack of anything resembling a social life since filming had begun, she impishly waited for him to raise his beer to his lips before querying, "You do have a dick, right?"
Matthew managed to turn his head and spray beer over the railing rather than at her, laughing, coughing and sputtering all at once. Patting his back helpfully with one hand, Kel bent down and craned her neck, ostensibly to answer her question for herself. Nodding, she straightened and regarded him with laughing eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Ensures your safety, you know. Helene isn't into dicks."
"That's interesting," Matthew muttered.
"No it isn't," Kel corrected, resting the hand that had been patting his back just above his right hip. "What is is that Jaz doesn't know. She'd have a major spasm. The whole concept of girls liking girls freaks her out."
Sighing, he admitted, "You're right. Damn! Too bad I can't use it." Seeing that she wanted to ask, Matthew offered, "Corporate ties between the magazine and Sony/Columbia."
"Too bad," she muttered regretfully. Still, she felt better for letting off some steam through a tiny measure of spite. And it wouldn't even cost her. Brightening visibly, Kel smirked. "Well, you better not leave your backgrounders here unless you've got a 200 word limit, Matthew. You won't get anything out of Jaz that isn't rehearsed, cleared with Helene and booorrringgg." When he sighed, she quickly continued, "Won't be your fault, though. There's nothing to get. She works, eats, sleeps, reads fashion magazines and bounces from hobby to interest to obsession on almost a daily basis. Nothing holds her attention. Nothing and no one."
Harkening back to what she'd said earlier, Matthew speculated, "So your actress-sitting job's easy, then?" When she didn't respond, he went looking for reasons. "Unless the flightiness you alluded to involves sex or drugs."
After briefly meeting his eyes, she pushed off of the deck rail restlessly. "Nothing like that." Eyes drifting to the table, she gestured toward it with her beer bottle. "There's an example. Two weeks ago, she had to have a deck of Tarot cards. To get a little space, I even volunteered to go and get one for her. Presented them when she and Helene were going over scripts out here and you can see where they sit. Exactly where she set them aside. Unopened."
"Maybe she'll get around to it when she notices them again. When she gets bored with my questions, probably."
It was weird, the way Matthew immediately picked up on her mood. Most guys wouldn't even have noticed, much less responded to it. "Won't happen," Kel muttered, crossing the deck to pick up the cards. "A 'friend' told Helene that dabbling with something like that would confuse Jaz's image."
"Confuse her image?" he asked, laughing. "C'mon, Kel, you can't be serious? What the fuck kind of image is Jasmine Caroteen, anyway? Are we associating with flowers or the health benefits of raw carrots and lousy spelling?"
His effort to cheer her up demanded a smile and Kel managed a wan one. The incident with the stupid cards had been telling in too many ways for her to dismiss it with a joke. Tossing the deck at Matthew, she shrugged. "Maybe you can't be a femme fatale, if you use anything other than your body to get your way."
She hated the bitterness that had crept into her tone and didn't want to talk about it, but thankfully Matthew took the conversation down a safer path. "You into Tarot?"
"I'm curious," she admitted.
Smiling slightly, Matthew confided, "I know enough to do a simple reading. A Celtic Cross is beyond me, but I can get you a basic answer to a question."
"I can ask the question?" At his nod, she said, "Killer. I'll get us another beer first."
--ooOoo--
Before Matthew could object, she was already walking toward the sliding glass doors. Her taut, firm ass distracted him from voicing his protest. The blush he could feel forming on his face made him remember that he'd skipped lunch and that a second beer was probably not a good idea, particularly since Kel was serving a Belgian import with a high alcohol content.
Calm down, Matthew. She's just a kid, for Christ's sake.
Still, for the first time since his sneak, no, make that fiend, of an editor had assigned him this ridiculous interview with a twenty year old soap opera babe-a tiny favor, that's what she'd called it-he was actually not actively hating the assignment.
Matthew wrote about places and the people he found there. Not personalities. He despised personalities, mostly because they typically had none. Aware of the date, he'd waited for the fiend to say "April Fool. You're so gullible, Matthew." She hadn't, the bitch. What she'd said was how the actress had heard bad things about Jeff Muller's interview style and had refused to talk to him. Since their publisher was affiliated with the movie's distributor, an interview had to be done. The scheduled release date demanded that it appear in next month's issue. "There's no time to send anyone else, Matthew," Cara had cajoled, even as he'd overheard her assistant changing his return flight to April 2.
Taking a deep breath, he sat down at the table and closed his eyes, blocking out everything except for the sound of the ocean, letting go of his negative energy. It solved nothing and would likely fuck up the reading he was about to do.
In no time at all, Kel was back, had pulled a chair around to sit next to him, placed an ice-cold bottle of beer in front of each of them and prompted, "What's a Celtic Cross?"
His voice unconsciously took on an instructive tone, focusing on the question rather than the young woman who'd asked it. "It's a ten card spread. Looks impressive and has some complex interplay between certain cards. I can show you the arrangement if you want, but I only really feel comfortable with the simpler three card past-present-future spread." Matthew hesitated because he couldn't tell how she'd react, but a respect for the practice dictated that he obtain certain information. "If you're sure Jaz won't mind."
"Why would she mind?" Kel impatiently asked.
"There's a school of thought that you shouldn't let anyone else touch your cards."
Pursing her lips, Kel took a swig of beer for inspiration. Smiling as a flash of it arrived, she put her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer, softly announcing, "Consider them my gift to you, Matthew, the interviewer. If Jaz ever notices they're missing, I'll replace them."
Her logic was sound and the second beer was going down just as easily as the first had. Coughing slightly to cover a small belch, he opened the pack and admired the cards. "Nice deck. A different take on a Rider-Waite."
"Is that good?"
"Yeah," Matthew confessed. "I'd never figure out anything too different." Beginning to shuffle, Matthew inquired, "So, do you have a question, Kel?"
She was silent for almost a full minute, clearly thinking, and he tried not to notice her hand absently kneading the muscles of his shoulder. "Um well," she began, blushing. "There's this guy that I'm interested in. And "
Grinning at her uncertain pause, Matthew prodded, "You want to get in his pants?"
"Not exactly." Responding to his raised eyebrow, she deadpanned, "I want what's in his pants to get into mine. In a major way. But I don't know him very well, so I don't know what kind of chance I've got." Looking down at the table, she mumbled, "I guess my question is what do I need to know to get him into bed."
"About him, you or both?"
"Both."
Her quiet, subdued tone suggested that this had become serious for her. Matthew wasn't sure that was a good thing, but he couldn't see any way to back out, barring his luck vastly improving and Ms. Jasmine making her entrance. "Ok," he countered softly. "While I shuffle and cut the cards, I want you to meditate on your question."
Ceasing her gentle massage, she sheepishly muttered, "I don't know how, Matthew."
"Just try to clear your mind and think about your question and the guy that inspired it."
The lucky son of a bitch. Surprised by that stray thought, Matthew forced himself to focus on who was waiting for him at home and tried to convince himself that his lapse was inspired by the beer, not the woman - no, the girl - who was seated close to him with her eyes closed and brow slightly furrowed in concentration.
Cut the cards and get this underway, Matthew.
"You ready?" he whispered. She nodded, cautiously opening her eyes, staring trustingly into his.
Looking away without acknowledging the effort it required, Matthew dealt the first card. "This is what you need to know about the past." They both regarded it for a moment. "The Five of Cups." Matthew's memory for what a lot of people would consider trivia was outstanding. "It means loss or regret. If it's relevant to your 'let's sleep together' scenario, I'd say that the loss or regret probably has to do with a previous partner. Do you have a spectacularly failed relationship in your past, Kel?"
Something that might've been fear flashed across her face, but she got past whatever it was and responded, "I'm not good at the relationship thing, Matthew. I avoid them. If you don't commit, you can't get hurt, right?"
"As long as it doesn't hurt too much to be alone, I suppose," he replied. "If not you, then him. Could be that the object of your prurient interest has had a bad relationship or two that might make him hesitate. Or he might hesitate if all you want is sex and he's after something more than that." Matthew chuckled at the face she made at the thought.
"What about you?" she asked, capturing his eyes with hers again and placing a hand on the one of his that held the cards. "Is sex enough for you?"
He shrugged, looking down at the card he'd dealt. "No. Hasn't been for a long time."
"Why not?"
Shaking his head, Matthew gently chastised, "You're supposed to be focused on your question, Kel."
"Yes, sir."
"That's 'yes, sir, card reader, sir' to you." She simply giggled and sipped her beer, so Matthew sighed and turned over another card. Surprised, he muttered, "Jesus."
"What?" she asked, completely alert and serious. "What's the matter?" "Nothing really. The High Priestess is just a very strong card, that's all."
"Ok." She sounded dubious. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
Matthew thought the first bit of interpretation was apropos to the situation at hand. "She's a call for calm. She signals that the present is a time to be non-reactionary. So maybe you don't make your move for the guy right now. It might be too soon or he might not be receptive to your approach at the moment."
"I thought guys were always interested in sex."
He smiled at what seemed to be a joke, but one look at the pensive frown on her face told him otherwise. "For guys your age, that's certainly the norm. That might be it, you know. Maybe you've stumbled on that rarest of breeds - a mature twenty-something guy. If you have, every woman I know would tell you to wait and pounce at just the right time to prevent him from getting away." Grinning, he added, "You may never see another one again."
She was nothing, if not persistent. "I thought all guys were the same when it came to sex, especially in the Viagra era."
"They are, more or less, but sometimes, believe it or not, sex isn't the be all and end all." Looking around furtively, Matthew leaned close and breathed into her ear. "Don't tell anybody, but occasionally, it's nice to have someone to talk to, cuddle with and company when you fall asleep watching TV or reading a book."
"Is that just because you can't get it up six times a night anymore?"
Her answering whisper made her unrepentant question somehow palatable. "At least you sprang that gem on me when I didn't have beer in my mouth," Matthew muttered. "And that might have something to do with the attitude shift, yes, Miss 'I can keep coming until dawn.'"
"I'm sorry, Matthew," she whispered, softly kissing his cheek, smiling ruefully as he belatedly reacted, leaning back as she was pulling away.
Uncomfortable, he muttered, "Ah Kel?"
"I didn't mean to get bitchy on you." Softly touching his cheek, she added, "That's just my way of apologizing. Will you go on? Please."
Unsure why he'd reacted so strongly, Mathew refocused his attention and haltingly began. "You or he or both of you should take some time now to receive information, allow yourselves to consider what's possible. It's appropriate for you or your potential partner to be aware of and explore the mysteries you find in your lives." Matthew spoke faster and his voice grew surer as he explained, "This is when you should listen to that little voice that calls out to you from the back of your mind and whispers things that you don't consciously grasp. Or won't for some reason." Glancing at Kel, he sheepishly admitted, "She's one of my favorite cards."
"So the word is that I should listen to my instincts, right?" He nodded encouragement. Sighing dramatically, she demanded, "About what exactly?"
"I don't know, Kel. Maybe about what you want and why. I mean, you said you don't know the guy all that well. Why do you want to sleep with him?"
She was staring at her beer bottle. Matthew let her for a time, before he smiled, reached out and turned her head toward him with slight pressure of a finger on her chin. The tears in her eyes took him aback. "Hey, Kel, Jesus, take it easy. You don't have to answer."
"I I'd like to," she whispered. "If if you don't mind listening."
Wiping the tear that had leaked out of her right eye off of her cheek as gently as he could, Matthew nodded. "Go ahead."
"Because I don't feel lonely when I'm with him." With a ragged sigh, she continued, "I know that probably sounds silly, but I feel lonely a lot, Matthew, and this - what did you call it - actress-sitting is just making matters worse. Jaz doesn't even see anyone else. Well, other than Helene, anyway. You watch when she finally deigns to grant you an audience. She won't look you in the eye unless she's flirting with you. And if she does that, run - do not walk - for your car. You definitely don't want to go there."
Very quietly, he asked, "Is sleeping with a man you barely know the answer?"
"It's an answer."
Unable to deny the truth of that simple statement, he took a sip of his beer and put a supportive arm around her shoulders. When she turned those large hazel eyes on him, he speculated, "Maybe what the High Priestess is telling you is that you need to get in a better place before you approach him. It might be too much to ask for him to be enough of a physical distraction that you feel good about ducking your issues."
"Why is she your favorite card?"
Matthew smiled and didn't fight the subject change. "Because every time I see the High Priestess, I'm reminded of my bad habits. I look before I leap. And after I've leapt, I fight to stay wherever I've landed, because I figure why the hell else did I bother to leap in the first place. She says look first and then make your move, but don't forget to ask questions later." Hugging Kel briefly, Matthew found his thoughts flitting briefly to the women he'd had in his life before coming back to the lonely and quite young one seated beside him. "You don't like relationships. Me? I need them. So much that I tend to lose myself in trying to keep them."
"You do that?"
He laughed heartily and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you for sounding so amazed. Now I know for sure that I hide my tendencies well."
"Are you doing that now?" Kel asked in a small voice, watching his face avidly. "Losing yourself in a relationship, I mean, not hiding your tendencies."
"No." As soon as he'd spoken, uncertainty flared in Matthew's mind and he wondered if it showed. His response had been too quick, too sure, and he'd been down that road before. "Well, at least, I don't think so." With a long-suffering sigh, he added, "There goes the idea of writing the Jasmine Caroteen interview on the plane. After this, I'm going to be dissecting my current relationship."
"Sounds healthy," she mused, looking at the colorful card that had caused the stir resting at its place to the right of the other. "And only fair, if I have to deal with stuff before I can get laid."
"How's that exactly, Kel? I'm referring to the fairness aspect. It's your reading."
She managed a genuine smile and leaned into Mathew. "Well, it might not be fair, but it sure makes me feel better."
"That's something," he allowed, shifting to stay close but be able to continue the reading. "Now, let's see about your future." With that he turned the third card over and placed it on the far right of the spread.
"A nine," Kel noted, looking to Matthew for elucidation.
"Nine of Cups, reversed." Before she could ask, he specified, "That means upside down. The card itself represents delight in all the senses. Wishes coming true, maybe."
She beamed, launching herself toward him and into a fierce hug, whispering, "Thank you." Matthew gingerly placed his hands on her back when she gave him an enthusiastic kiss. It was difficult to ignore someone as unabashedly affectionate as Kel and pushing her away seemed wrong in a whole lot of ways.
"Hold on a second," he interjected when she let him up for air. "It's reversed. That means the happy outcome isn't certain. I'm thinking that something needs to change for the two of you to be intimate. Most likely something that will be identified during the present period of introspection. You dealing with your loneliness, maybe. Or him dealing with his past failures." Her disappointed look prompted, "Hell, what do I know? It could just mean that it's blind luck whether the two of you will be on the same wavelength when one suggests getting hot and sweaty."
"Our paths don't cross that often," she offered.
Matthew nodded thoughtfully. "If that's the case, you might need to orchestrate a chance meeting when you're ready. How are you at duplicity for a worthy cause, Kel?"
Draining her second beer, she banged the bottle on the table, seemingly pleased that getting laid was deemed a worthy cause. "I can handle that. I can definitely handle that."
"Well, there you have it. Reading accomplished." Matthew glanced at his watch before scooping up the cards. He couldn't believe that he'd been talking with Kel for so long. It hadn't seemed like any time at all, although he supposed that it was good that it had been longer than the ten minutes he'd first suspected given that'd he'd had two beers of the decidedly potent variety.
"Thanks," she murmured, suddenly shy. "I should probably go and see if I can find out what's keeping Jaz."
Before she turned away, Matthew impulsively asked, "Are you really on duty 24/7?" When she shook her head, he realized that he was responding to her earlier words about loneliness. The sentiment resonated within him, prompting Matthew to continue. "What about later on this evening?"
"I don't have to be, unless Jaz pulls something unprecedented. She's got an early call tomorrow. Why?"
Words had rarely failed Matthew, yet they threatened to now. Finding that interesting, he ignored it for now and forged ahead through the speaker's block. "I'm stuck in LA until tomorrow. You want to have dinner or a drink?" A very frightening idea occurred to him, forcing another question. "You are old enough to be served a drink in this town, aren't you?"
She laughed. "Dinner would be nice."
They were still smiling at each other when Helene threw open the slider with a resounding bang and announced, "Jasmine Caroteen meet Matthew Seagul from Inspire magazine." Lowering her voice, she ordered, "Run along, Kelly."
Holding Matthew's eyes for a few heartbeats, Kel said, "We'll hook back up when you're through."
She giggled at the scandalized look Helene and Jaz shared at his nod of agreement and slipped into the house, barely containing her glee. It wasn't often that she did anything that those two noticed. Not that she cared that much. At least not today, she didn't. Not after that pleasant interlude with the promise of more to come.
Glancing back through the doors, she saw Matthew wince slightly at something Helene said before dutifully looking over the agent's shoulder as she pointed out what she considered important in the press package for the film. Kel found herself actually looking forward to reading an article written about Jaz by this man. She suspected it wouldn't be anything like Helene or Jaz might imagine, but was reasonably certain that Sanctuary Productions would be satisfied, if not gratified by it.
Much more importantly to her mind, a dinner date with a man who made her feel like a woman with a purpose wasn't a bad start. It didn't even matter that Matthew had no idea he was the gentleman subject of her impetuous question. Kel considered it victory enough that she'd recognized what she wanted and admitted it to herself. Actually emerging from an assessment with a recommendation was a big step in the right direction for her.
She wasn't even particularly bothered that Matthew was headed out of town and back to some sort of relationship. And, ok, so it was a little disappointing that all indications were that he wouldn't entertain a one-night stand. But the cards said maybe someday. And that, at the moment, was good enough for one Kelly Anne Morgan. She felt like anything but an April Fool for taking the chance of bringing an irritated journalist a beer.
The End
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
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