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TAGGIE O'HARA and RUPERT CAMPBELL-BLACK Rivals S01E08

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"Well, here you are." "Here I am."

bonus:

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hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

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ABOUT TIME (2013) dir. Richard Curtis

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He caught Lisa's grin but he didn't acknowledge it - thinking about why he even suggested she bring that particular piece of ancient history with them was especially out of the question for him, let alone giving her any more leeway in feeling like she knew him in some type of way beyond the character he'd been playing on those decomposing reels.

The Man from Deadhorse had been the beginning of the end for his career, his reputation, his old life... but she didn't need to know that.

"Hell, you probably know that film better than me at this point." Cooper replied, watching her zip her bag with ease then pause in reflection.

"You sure you didn't teach medicine in that vault of yours? Don't know too many people that catch pneumonia and live to tell about it out here, 'specially doing it on their own."

"The only stupid ones are the ones you don't ask," she played off of him with a stereotypical teacher response. While she wasn't aware of it, there were some things that never changed and a teacher's sense of humor remained the same as it had always been.

Watching him hand the tape over, a bright smile was thrown his way. Was that a hint of vanity there? They wouldn't be coming across anywhere to watch it anytime soon, she was sure. Yet, Lisa took it from him and moved to slip it into her bag.

"No. We can't forget this. Without it, I'd have never known who you are." The bag was zipped back up after the film was safely tucked away. "I fell asleep to this movie every night just to have some noise to keep my company," a pause, "I came down with a really bad pneumonia, like I could barely walk that's how bad it was."

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Warmth spread through Matt's chest at her suggestion for the nativity placement. For a brief moment, he was able to live in the present with her, his fantasy of life with her becoming real right before his eyes. "I agree, let's do that."

He stood, taking the smaller box she handed over and set it on the table next to the phone for later. He noticed her getting up but was just a few seconds too late to help; she'd moved out of reach before he was able to offer a hand. A slight disappointed frown crossed his features as he reached down into the box for more lights but it was gone by the time he straightened back up.

"Christmas music coming up," he replied, dumping the other ball of lights he had onto the couch next to her and crossing to the shelves flanking the fireplace. Matt searched the spines of the records before finally producing the one he'd been looking for, holding it up for her approval. "How about Bing? Everyone loves Bing."

He hadn't thought anything of her at the window, it seemed. It felt like a relief that he hadn't suspected that she'd still been in search of a way out. The windows were out completely, it seemed.

"It'll look nice there," Lynnie agreed before turning back towards him and hobbling towards the box. A faint pang of pain slipped through her as weight was accidentally settled on her wounded leg.

Carefully, Lynnie lowered herself down to the box to look through the box of decorations. It had all been rather dated, but she made no comment on that fact. Back home, she had her own dated figurines for Christmas that her mother had once collected -- things that she'd managed to take from her worthless father after her mother had passed away.

"This would look nice by the phone," she said of the nativity scene, "We could find a candle to light beside it every night to really bring focus on it at night."

She handed it over to him before taking up some of the light strands. She hobbled with the strand back to the couch and took a seat. Fingers worked to untangle them slowly, carefully. The brunette pretended as if everything was fine, as if this was something normal between them.

"Christmas music would be nice right now."

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"Hadley," John drawled, stretching the syllables of her name deliciously in his gravelly baritone. The corner of his lip tilted upwards in a half grin. "I don't drink whiskey late at night with anyone, let alone a proper woman such as yourself, without a reason."

He watched her closely from across the table, hesitation crossing her features. Understandable, of course - she wasn't young, but she was young enough to still feel the eyes of society at her back, judging her every move. Perhaps that was the smartest reaction in this situation.

"No," he replied, taking a final drink from his glass and sliding it over the polished surface of the desk. He met her gaze with his own. "I don't make it my business to flaunt my personal life to the world unless I deem it necessary. In my humble opinion, two colleagues getting to know each other isn't vital information."

"So interest is returned then," Hadley ventured to ask. She was far from virginal, but she wasn't someone that just jumped into bed with any ol' man. Yet there was no denying that she had held an interest in John. He was a strong man and held leadership like no other politician she'd known, which included her own father.

She feels a hint of embarrassment. Never has she allowed herself to be so open with anyone like this before.

"Even if your interest was returned... wouldn't you worry about what people would say?" There'd been no thought of keeping a relationship secret. It hadn't been considered as of yet. "I don't want to jeopardize anything."

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"Peculiar," he mused, watching her cheeks flush. While that could have been from the alcohol, John was certain she was fishing through her memory, trying to reconcile what he told her with what she remembered doing. He found it to be especially endearing catching her off guard considering in the short time he'd known her she had very clearly made the effort to appear professional.

"But not disinteresting. I'm flattered despite being old enough that people may mistake me for your father."

She had decided that it was her last drink for the night. She'd set it to the side and focused her attention fully on the Governor. There was a bright red blush upon her cheeks at the mention of how she had made her desires for him known.

Hadley had some memory of that night, but not much. She'd recalled leaning against him as they had walked back to the hotel, but that had been it. It was his chuckle that relaxed her for the moment. He didn't seem upset about her admission.

"...and what do you think about my interest?"

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Bruce Campbell in MANIAC COP 2 (1990) dir. William Lustig

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my muse has just come home in a bad mood & is refusing tell yours what’s wrong.  how would your muse prod mine into opening up? 

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American Gothic Gif-Through:

Rivalry [Part 1] – Pilot [3/?] 

                                          “What do you know about me?”  

                     “Yankee blue-blood, Harvard med. Came to town last fall,                                                                                    been causin’ trouble ever since.”

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“I care about you, Lyn. And I just want you to be happy. That’s all." 

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“I’m glad for that,” he said, his expression returning to a more relaxed one. He mirrored her smile. “This campaign will run more smoothly if we agree on what we’re trying to do.”

John watched Hadley return her glass to the table - no doubt she was feeling the potency of the alcohol starting to hit her. Of course after her stint the other night it made sense that she’d be a little more aware of how much she was drinking and around whom.

“Nothing offensive, I assure you.” He tried and failed to hold in a chuckle. He wasn’t lying to make her feel better; she had, in fact, said nothing that would offend him. Rather she had mentioned her interest in him as she swayed on her feet, clinging to his arm while he walked her back to her hotel room. Unfortunately her insistence that she repay him with a thank you kiss had been rudely interrupted by her promptly turning and vomiting into her bedpan.

“You did manage to make your interest in me quite clear, however.”

A longer sip was taken of her freshly poured whiskey. The amber liquor warmed her up from the inside as it slipped down her throat down into her stomach.

Hadley listened to him speak about his past. All politicians had a story, had excuses, had reasons for all that they did. No matter the decision, there would always be people that were hurt. There would always be casualties somewhere. No doubt that those that had led during the Civil War had felt that weight on their shoulders, had held those casualties and traumas of the survivors in their mind constantly ... but they could still so easily make their excuses. That went for both sides.

"I can't think less of you," she assured him, smile still on her lips. "It's the truth of politics. Every move you make will have some amount of darkness."

The blonde could feel the whiskey starting to work on her slightly. She felt herself feeling slightly more floaty and it was with that knowledge that she would not allow herself to drink anymore. She hadn't had any plans on getting drunk. She'd been working until the Governor had come back to the office to find her there.

"About the other night, my memory is a little fuzzy. I didn't say anything offensive, did I?"

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At first he didn't avert his gaze as she dressed; he didn't see a need to considering she had just been fully bare before him in the bathtub. However the sight of his shirt falling to her thighs sent a shiver of desire running down his spine and he willed himself to turn away before he found himself undressing her again.

The question of if she would even let him do such a thing after what they'd been through remained in the back of his mind, dampening the current of want pestering him. Their situation was abnormal, yet he still desperately wanted her to want him back.

( Of course he hadn't really thought about what he would do if she decided she didn't... )

"That's where we always put the tree. Seemed like the most logical spot, I guess," Matt busied himself with the boxes he'd brought downstairs, putting the tree decorations aside for now. He looked back in her direction when she finished dressing, offering her a smile in response to her thanks.

"Weekends are for sleeping in, aren't they?" He pulled open a box labeled 'lights' and reached in only to find a tangled mess. He sighed and sat back on his heels, pulling over another box with a neat 'nativity and misc' written on the side in a flowy cursive. Inside was a delicately carved wooden nativity scene that he'd made for his mother as a gift as well as other assorted interior decor that had been collected over the years.

"Looks like we'll have to untangle the lights before then... but this we can put out tonight. Wherever you like."

Lynnie allowed his comment about her mother being proud slip by. She hadn't wanted to discuss it in detail so she let it lay. They could always bring up their family another time. He didn't need to know that her mother was rolling in her grave at the sight of her daughter cowering to men, even though that was all that she'd ever known. It was what Lynnie had watched her mother do every day of her life.

As he disappeared, she hopped over towards the window. Outside, it was still white and she'd never be able to trek through the woods alone and with her current condition. An attempt was made at opening the window, yet it wouldn't budge.

The remark about stopping at her house struck her as odd. Would he really allow her to go back home? Would he really allow himself to be seen with her? Did he even think about the neighbors?

"I think the tree would look nice right here," she said, covering up the reason as to why she was at the window. "The Christmas lights would look really nice from outside looking in, don't you think?"

Turning her back to him -- despite the fact that he'd already seen her naked -- Lynnie pulled his shirt on before allowing the towel to drop once the hem fell against her mid thigh. She was careful in slipping his boxers on, not bending over for him to see her ass. She was being modest here, protective of her nudity.

Finally, she turned back to him and offered a soft thank you before moving back towards the box of decorations.

"Do you sleep in on the weekends? I always slept in on Saturdays. I was thinking that if the tree farm doesn't open until later that we could work together on putting the lights up outside..."