by K E Lane
CHAPTER TWO
I tapped on the door to Liz's trailer with the toe of my boot the next morning at 7:55, sipping from a large paper coffee cup in one hand and dangling a cardboard carrier containing two more steaming cups from the other.
The door opened and Liz's assistant, Paula, motioned me in. I grunted in greeting and entered the trailer, holding up the carrier and gesturing with my chin at the one closest to Paula.
"White mocha something-or-other. With soy."
She took the indicated cup out of the carrier, murmuring, "You're a doll. Thank you." As I moved past her, she touched my arm. "And I don't believe a word of it."
I frowned. "A word of what?"
"What they're saying. About you and that extra and the goat."
Goat, monkey…not much difference when you're supposedly fucking them.
I smiled politely. "Thank you Paula, I'm flattered you think so highly of me." She frowned, not quite believing the sincerity of my words. Before she could say anything more about my rumored love of goats, I continued on. "How's Liz this morning?"
Liz wasn't a morning person, and it was always good to know where her mood was before conversing with her.
"Well, she's…"
The door to the trailer's tiny bathroom swung open and Liz stomped out, glaring at Paula and me.
"Liz is an adult and doesn't like it when people talk as though she's not present." She flopped down on the couch, still glaring. "And for god sakes, Paula, I told you that thing about the goat was just a stupid rumor. Honestly, I don't know how that crap gets started."
"Amazing, isn't it?" I commented dryly, and held the carrier up as a peace offering. "The most caffeinated, sugary thing they had."
Her eyes softened a little and she reached out her hands. "Ohhhh. Gimme."
I set the carrier down and handed her the cup. She sniffed at it and took a sip, closing her eyes and groaning in a way that should have made me blush, considering my recently acknowledged sexual orientation, but didn't. Liz, despite her undeniable attractiveness, had never affected me in a sexual way. That put me in a very minuscule percentage of people on this planet, and was most likely the reason why Liz liked me.
Someone pounded on the trailer door. "Car here for Stokley and Harris!"
I reached out a hand and hauled Liz to her feet. "Let's get this over with," I said, with obvious trepidation.
"It's not that bad, Caid," Liz cooed, and patted my cheek. "You need to work on your people skills, anyway."
I scowled and she laughed, leading us out of the trailer and stopping on the top step with a little squeak of dismay when the bright sunshine hit her face. She turned to Paula, who was already handing her a pair of sunglasses that were designed with more thought to style than function. She took them without a word.
I shook my head, pulling my own sunglasses from on top of my head and slid them into place before following Liz and Paula down the stairs and into the gray limo where two people from the network's PR department were already waiting.
Liz absolutely hated sharing limos with people she didn't know, and sat in sullen silence during the ride to the hotel, shooting daggers at the car's two extra passengers. The two looked uncomfortable, but I didn't have enough sympathy to start a conversation that might have eased the tension. Liz's preference for riding by herself was well known, and these two should have known better. Instead I sat back and sipped on my cooling coffee, letting the caffeine do its work while Paula typed furiously on a thin laptop and occasionally talked on her cell phone.
At the hotel, we were escorted to a small conference room and offered croissants, muffins and more coffee. A few minutes later, 45 reporters from various national and international media outlets were herded in, took their seats, and started a barrage of questions.
I was nervous at first, still not used to the growing celebrity that 9th Precinct had brought me and unsure of myself with the press. The majority of questions, though, were aimed at Liz, and soon I relaxed, enjoying the show that was Elizabeth Ann Stokley. The woman was truly a master at handling the press; deflecting questions with a charm that left the reporters smiling, serious one moment and flirting the next, controlling the room without letting them know they were being controlled.
Finally, after and hour and a half, the moderator called for last questions.
"This question is for both Ms. Stokley and Ms. Harris," A short, stocky woman in the back said. "Are you aware that over the past two years there has been an explosion of on-line stories depicting the two of you in homosexual relationships, with each other and various other 9th Precinct cast members? Has this affected your working relationship at all, and what do you think of the chances of such a relationship story line ever making it into prime-time?"
I heard Liz's shocked intake of breath beside me, but kept my eyes on the reporter and what I hoped was a casual smile on my face, even though my heart was pounding so loud it was a wonder the mics didn't pick it up.
Taking a calming breath, I glanced over at Liz, noting that she was as rattled as I'd ever seen her. I felt a flash of annoyance. Was the thought of being a lesbian, or being thought of as a lesbian, so appalling?
I immediately pushed the annoyance aside; my own initial reaction to the question hadn't been much better, and I was a lesbian. At least in theory.
Amazing how society has trained us.
"I guess I'll take that one, if you don't mind, Liz?" I said, giving her a reassuring smile.
She seemed to regain some of her composure, and even managed to smile back. "Go right ahead."
I directed my attention back to the reporter, noticing that the other reporters were awfully damn quiet.
I thought for a moment.
Okay, Caid, let's go easy with this. I had barely come out to myself, and certainly wasn't ready to come out to the world.
"Yes, I'm aware that there are websites that contain stories about our characters on 9th Precinct, and that some of the stories are lesbian in nature."
I surprised at how natural it sounded to use the word.
Lesbian.
I was a lesbian.
I hadn't actually said it to myself yet; it was much easier than I expected.
I paused at my internal revelation, and the reporter who asked the question opened her mouth to speak. I cut her off before she could expand on her question.
"How do these stories affect my relationship, working or personal, with Liz?" I shrugged. "They don't. Liz and I are good friends, and have a very comfortable working relationship, contrary to what occasional newspapers and magazines might report. None of you, of course," I smiled my most charming smile, taking a lesson from Liz, and was gratified to hear a several chuckles. "I don't see either of those relationships changing because people are writing stories about the characters we play on a TV show."
"As to whether I think a homosexual storyline will ever make it into prime time…I thought it already had. There have been several gay characters in primetime television. Granted, maybe we've got a ways to go before it's an established, popular character on a drama like 9th Precinct, and their sexuality is handled with the same casualness as it is for heterosexual characters, but we're getting there." I smiled at the woman. "So, to answer your question, I'd say the chances of that kind of storyline showing up on primetime are good, but I'm not going to guess at a timeline."
Several reporters raised their hands after I was done, but one of the PR people - Nick, I think his name was - announced that we had engagements elsewhere, and the session politely, if reluctantly, broke up.
We signed some autographs for a group of people waiting in the lobby and then climbed back into the limo, the two men from PR wisely electing to take a cab.
As soon as the car door had closed, Liz turned to me and gripped my arm. "What the fuck was all of that about? People think I'm a lesbian, and they're writing about it on the internet? That's illegal! Can I sue them or something? Shit, I need to call Woody and see if I can sue. Paula, get m
e Woody."
I sighed. Thank you for being concerned about my career, too, Liz.
"Liz…calm down. Jesus." I pulled my arm away and sat back, running a hand through my hair in annoyance. "They're not stories about you, for fuck sakes; they're stories about Jen Hastings. A fictional character."
This seemed to calm her a little, but she still took the phone when Paula handed it to her.
"Woody? Of course it's Liz. I'm having a crappy day, thank you very much. Did you know about these internet people who think I'm a lesbian?"
I rolled my eyes. "Liz…"
"Here, Woody, let me give you to Caid. She knows all about it."
The phone was thrust into my hand, and I resignedly put it to my ear.
"Woody? It's Caid."
"Caid, what the hell is she talking about?" Woody Stein's harried, nasal voice came over the line.
I put my fingers to the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. "Listen, let me call you back, okay?"
"Caid…"
"I'll call you back." I snapped the phone shut, knowing that would piss Woody off, but also knowing that Liz would smooth it over for me.
"What are you doing?" Liz asked angrily, "You need to…"
"Liz."
"…tell Woody about this…"
"Liz."
"I'll sue them…"
"Liz, shut up!"
Liz blinked, and Paula looked at me in shock, but the car was finally quiet.
"Thank you. Now just listen to me for a second, okay? These stories - they're called Fan Fiction. People write stories about the characters on TV shows, and then put them out on these internet sites for other people to read. They aren't about you. You can't sue anyone, because they aren't about you. They're about the characters in the show."
"I can't?"
"No, you can't."
She was quiet for a moment, then frowned. "How did you know about this stuff? And why didn't you tell me?"
I scratched absently at my neck. "I was doing some…ah…research on the Internet one night, and I came across a site that had some stuff about the show. I was curious, so I read some of it." I didn't think she needed to know exactly what my 'research' was about. "I didn't tell you, because I didn't think it was important. They're just stories, Liz. It's not about you. No one is accusing you of being a lesbian."
She was still frowning, her brows furrowed in thought. "I want to see some," she said abruptly.
I shrugged. "Fine, I'll send you some URLs."
"Some what?"
Liz was hopeless with computers. I looked over at Paula, who nodded.
"Paula knows what I mean, and she'll show you."
"Show me now. Use Paula's computer. It's a half-hour trip back to the studio."
Sometimes her attitude really ticked me off.
"Say please."
Liz blinked. "What?"
"Say please. I'm not your goddamn assistant, Liz - no offense, Paula," I glanced over at the assistant apologetically. She smiled slightly and shook her head. "I'm your friend and coworker. Say please."
We stared at each other for a long moment, and finally she sighed. "I'm sorry, Caid." Her voice was subdued. "Please."
I let out my own sigh, and turned to Paula. "Paula, can we borrow your laptop for a bit please? This car has wireless, doesn't it?"
"Of course, Caid." The woman nodded, clicking a few times to get out of what she was doing, and handed the laptop over to me.
I opened up a browser window, Googled a few keywords I knew would get me what I was looking for and browsed through the results, finally selecting one, glancing at it quickly, and placing the computer in Liz's lap.
"Here's one. Press this button when you want to go down more."
"Thank you," she murmured politely, and started reading.
I divided my attention between watching the cars around us who were also caught in lunch-time traffic, and watching Liz's expression go from curious and slightly bored to intent and involved. I smiled slightly at her absorbed expression. I actually hadn't read a lot of 9P fan fiction - it seemed slightly egomaniacal - but I had enjoyed this one very much.
Liz was still reading when the limo pulled up in the lot outside the studio, looking up reluctantly when Paula announced they had arrived.
"But…I'm not done. Can I save it somehow?" she asked sheepishly.
Paula assured her they could and took the laptop from her, bookmarking the site and looking over at me with a wink.
I smiled back and followed Liz out of the limo and through the lot, curious about the thoughtful expression on her face.
When we reached her trailer she turned, the thoughtful expression now turned slightly calculating. "So there are a lot of these stories?"
I nodded. "Hundreds…thousands even, I suppose."
That surprised her. "All about Jen and Rita?"
"Oh…no, no. They put all sorts of characters together." That seemed to disappoint her, and I frowned. "Why?"
She ignored my question and asked her own. "How many are lesbian stories? A lot?"
"A lot." I nodded.
That satisfied her, and she climbed the stairs to her trailer, throwing a vague, "See you later," over her shoulder.
I stared at the closed door to her trailer for a while, wondering what was going through her head, and thinking that whatever it was, I probably wasn't going to like it.
Finally I shrugged, and headed for my own trailer, wondering if Robyn was on the set today.
CHAPTER THREE
Kreizeck's episode, titled 'Snap', wrapped shooting early the following week, and despite my original misgivings and intense dislike of the man, when post production was finished, it turned out to be one of the better episodes we'd done. Still, we were all glad to have some of our regular directors back in the director's chair, and the next few weeks went by quickly as we settled back into our normal routine.
9P worked on a sixteen-day cycle for each episode, with the first eight days dedicated to preproduction activities such as casting and finding and confirming locations, and the next eight days consisted of the actual shooting. With rotating directing and production teams, they were able to overlap the preproduction of an upcoming episode with the actual shooting of the current episode, so the actors were always shooting, the casting department was always casting and one of the production teams was always working on setting up our next week.
It was a grueling schedule that ran from late July until mid May, and I knew I wasn't the only one looking forward to the summer hiatus. Like many of the other cast members, I had other projects going on during the break so I'd still be busy, but a change of pace would be very welcome.
Liz hadn't mentioned the dreaded Internet-authors-who-thought-she-was-a-lesbian again after the day of the Q&A, but Paula told me she had asked for more sites, and spent a lot of time on Paula's laptop, much to the assistant's annoyance.
I ordered a new laptop online that evening and gave it to Paula when it arrived a few days later, telling her she could keep it and give the other one to Liz. She seemed stunned at my generosity, but Christ, I made more money than I'd ever be able to spend…might as well spend it on people I liked.
Robyn caused a stir in Brazil during Davis Cup play, where she watched from reserved seats as Josh Riley served and backhand-volleyed his way to two match wins, helping the US gain a victory over the Brazilian team. Her sunglass-shaded face and bronze skin were shown and commented on so many times during Josh's matches that it was amazing anyone watching actually remembered there was tennis going on. I watched what matches I could, not even making the effort to lie to myself and say I was watching for the tennis, although the tennis was pretty damn good. I just wanted to see her face, as pathetic as that sounds. The memory of her body against mine no longer stopped my breath, but it was still burned in my memory, and wasn't going away any time soon.
I'd seen her rarely and only in passing since our scene together; the plotline she had been involved with on 9P had concluded for
the moment and she was no longer required on our set, so I was surprised one morning, more than a month after the wrapping of 'Snap', when she showed up for the preliminary table read for the season finale that would start shooting at the end of our current eight-day shoot.
A table read was a sit-down reading of a script for an upcoming episode with the writers, producers, director and the regular cast members present to give feedback and discuss any location or casting issues. It was one of the only roles that the cast members had in the preproduction process, and I liked the chance to get a peek at what we would be doing the following week, as well as being able to give feedback.