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braveclementine · 4 months ago

Text

Germany

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

You clung around Tony's neck as he flew across the skies. You had your Agent suit on, along with your breathing helmet and the special gloves that Tony had made. He'd upgraded them so the blasters were amazing. You also had your gun on your hip along with two knives in your boots.

You were flying across the sky to fight a man named Loki. He was already fighting Captain America and there was a jet in the sky so you knew there had to be anywhere from two to six people in it.

"Agent Romanoff, you miss me?" Tony teased as he hacked into the PA system. You looked down below and could see a man wearing red, white, and blue fighting a man who was wearing a helmet that sort've looked like it had antelope horns on it while also wearing green, black, and gold. He had a scepter as his weapon, which had a blue light in it.

Tony blasted the man as he came down and you leapt from his back as Tony crashed into the ground in his 'heroic pose'. You immediately drew your gun, leveling it with the man who had crashed into the steps behind him, the scepter clattering away from him.

Even from here you could hear the music Tony was blasting.

"Make a move Reindeer games." Tony threatened as he let his Iron man suit show off every gun and weapon it had attached to it.

Loki sat on the steps, one arm across his stomach. He was clearly looking for a way out, but even he didn't seem to be able to find a way out of this one. But you still didn't drop the gun.

As Captain America joined his side with his shield, there was a glow of gold and the armor disappeared. He raised his hands in what seemed like surrender.

"Good move." Tony said, powering down slightly and the quinjet started to hover above us. Captain America seemed to be breathing fairly heavily.

"Mr Stark." He finally said.

"Captain."

We stepped onto the Quinjet and let it take us back to the main ship, which Tony and you had not been to yet. You had restashed your pistol in your holster, sitting down across from Loki. Natasha meanwhile, was communicating with Fury over the coms. Steve and Tony were standing nearby to hear what was being said.

Steve and Tony started talking to each other. You didn't bother listening in, preferring to study the God in front of you.

It seemed strange to you, that this God- from space mind you- had come down very recently and Elizabeth had left soon after.

"Whose your soulmate?" You asked, staring straight into the Gods' eyes.

"Why do you care?" Loki sneered, straightening up from where he had been leaning forward. Tony cut angry eyes at the God.

But there was no time to answer, because there was a sudden flash of lightning and thunder rumbled so loudly it seemed to shake the entire jet.

"Where is this coming from?" Natasha asked from up front.

"What's the matter?" Steve asked as he caught the legitimately frightened look on Loki's face. "Are you scared of a little lightning?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows."

Only about four seconds later, something heavy thumped on top of the flying jet. You were standing in seconds, pistol in your hands again, pointing it at the ceiling.

Tony put his helmet on, walking over to exit out of the back of the jet. You grabbed a hold as the air whipped through the jet.

"What are you doing?" You and Steve asked together but suddenly, the blond man that you had seen before on Tony's screens landed there with his hammer.

"You're Thor!" You said in delight, glad another Avenger was there. At least until he slammed his hammer into Tony's chest and sent him flying across the jet. You quickly shot at him, though he blocked every bullet with his hammer. In annoyance, you drew your knives, leaping at him.

You fought knife on hammer for only a few moments before he spun you around and muttered in your ear. "Stay out of this fight. I do not want to hurt you or your little one."

The next thing you knew, he had grabbed Loki by the throat, yanking him out of his seat, spinning the strap on his hammer and taking off.

"And now there's that guy." Tony groaned, getting up from the ground. "Stay here Y/N!"

"Another Asgardian?" Nat shouted back at us.

"That's guys a friendly?" Steve asked.

"Doesn't matter." Tony replied. "If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract's lost."

"Stark we need a plan of attack!" Steve shouted as Tony once more made his way towards the exit of the jet. You held onto the straps once more, heeding both Thor and Tony's words. You would stay out of this fight in the meantime.

"I have a plan." Tony answered. "Attack."

Steve huffed, looking at you, and then went over and grabbed one of the parachutes.

"I'd sit this one out, cap." Natasha called from up front, messing with buttons.

"I don't see how I can." He said, putting it on.

"These guys come from legend. They're basically gods."

"There's only one God, ma'am." Steve said, tightening the straps on his parachute. "And I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that."

You smiled, Steve having gained your respect. His answer was spot on.

Steve grabbed his shield, and he hopped into a perfect dive out of the jet.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

Loki figured he was going to have a hard time getting out of this one alive. For one thing, Thor seemed pretty pissed off at him. He still had a tight grip on his neck and it was very uncomfortable. For another, there was a metal man, a man wearing striped pajamas, two pilots, and a fairly pretty Agent that were all for his arrest.

Oh, and his soulmate was getting closer and closer.

He didn't want a soulmate. He had known about his soulmate for about roughly two-ish Midgardian years now. But he had never come down to Midgard to find her. He didn't want to. If his soulmate was Midgardian, then he was going to have to watch her die in less than a hundred years. It wasn't worth it, no matter what the love might be like.

Loki was suddenly shaken from his thoughts as Thor threw him to the rocky surface, standing over him. Loki groaned in pain. And then he started to laugh, playing things off.

"Where is the Tesseract?" His brothers' deep voice spoke above him in seriousness.

Loki laughed, "I missed you too."

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?" Thor thundered above him. Pun completely intended.

Loki also knew that he wasn't quite himself. Something, someone, was controlling him just slightly. Not enough to give it away, Loki felt that he had most of himself under control. But there was just enough. He didn't really want this, not that badly. Not to go to war with the entirety of Midgard or harm the people here. But Thanos and Ronan wanted it. . . and he was their weapon.

"You should thank me." Loki groaned out, starting to sit up. "With the bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here to your precious Earth?"

Thor dropped the hammer, a sound that sent a ring throughout the space and he gripped Loki's arm, pulling him up before keeping a tight hold on his hair.

"I thought you dead." Thor growled.

Loki felt a pang that didn't match what the mind control wanted him to feel. It was rare that the emotions didn't match, because the mind control knew what he wanted. But it also underestimated the familial love that Loki had for his family, even if he kept it hidden, kept it a facade.

"Did you mourn?" He almost spat out.

"We all did." Thor said, almost sounding surprise. "Our father-"

"Your father." Loki interrupted him in a menacing tone. He could remember the betrayal he had felt when Odin told him he was of Jotun birth. The fact that he would never be the Asgardian King, even with his bumbling fool of a brother.

And still the Soulmate grew closer.

"He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?" Loki asked coolly and Thor finally let him go. Loki shook himself a little, straightening out his clothes. He needed to get out of here before his soulmate came. Before he hurt her. Because he knew with the mind control, it was inevitable that the feelings of himself and them did not match. Loki walked away, holding his back.

"We were raised, together." Thor argued. "We played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?"

"I remember a shadow. Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss." Loki spat out, watching the hurt and confusion on Thor's face. These words. . . they were not his own. "I, who was, and should be King!"

"So you take the world I love as a recompense for your imagined slights?" Thor asked, growing angry. "No. The Earth is under my protection, Loki."

Loki started to laugh as Thor started forwards. "And you're doing a marvelous job with that." He replied sarcastically. "The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. I mean to rule them, as why should I not?"

"You think yourself above them?" Thor asked softly.

No.

"Well, yes." Loki said in a 'duh' voice.

"Then you miss the truth of ruling, brother." Thor scoffed. "A throne will suit you ill."

In anger, both his own and not his own, he slammed his fist against Thor's chest and pushed past him once more, going back up the edge of the cliff that he had been thrown upon. "I've seen worlds you've never known about!" He shouted. "I have grown, Odinson, in my exile." He sneered Thor's last name. "I have seen the true power of the tesseract, and when I wield it-"

"Who showed you this power?" Thor demanded. When Loki stayed silent, Thor continued, getting in Loki's face, "Who controls the would-be-king?"

"I AM A KING!"

"Not here." Thor shouted, grabbing him by the arms, "You give up the Tesseract! You give up this poisonous dream!" Thor's voice softened as he placed a brotherly grip on Loki's neck. "You come home." He pleaded.

Loki scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't have it."

In Thor's anger, he let go of Loki, his hammer flying to his hand. Afraid, Loki said, "You need the Cube to bring me home. But I've sent it off, I know not where."

Thor leveled the hammer with his chest. "Listen well brother."

Suddenly, the flying metal man collided with Thor and Loki blinked in just slight surprise. He hadn't even seen that coming. He smirked and said, "I'm listening."

He went to walk down the ravine and found that there was a beautiful big cat in front of him. The fur was sleek and spotted. The amber eyes were focused on him in a deep, almost understanding way. She was definitely a proud, strong animal.

He nearly touched the spot on his collarbone where her name was written. Had been there for some many years he had lost count. . . eight hundred and forty-six. The two different sides of him raged against each other. Longing vs unnecessary feelings.

She padded forward, nudging his hand with her head. He couldn't react, the feelings inside of him were bubbling up, going to burst. He scratched behind her ear with his fingers.

"You should go." He said, more kindness in his voice that he had thought possible with his mind being taken over. "You'll get hurt if you stay with me. I might even hurt you."

But she didn't move, standing by his side.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

"Do not touch me again." The God in front of Tony said as he got up. Tony let his face plate fall down so he could see his face.

"Then don't take my stuff." Tony answered.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with." Blondie continued.

"Uh." Tony pretended to look around. "Shakespeare in the park?" He stepped forwards as the God almost smirked. "Doth mother know you wear-eth her drapes?"

"This is beyond you, metal man. Loki will face Asgardian justice."

"He gives up the Cube, he's all yours. Until then-" His face plate slammed shut, "Stay out of the way. Tourist." Tony grunted, turning away.

He heard the man behind him grunt a little and caught another chest full of that stupid hammer than sent him crashing into a tree.

"Okay." Tony grouched. He was pissed off. First, Y/N was far to friendly with Agent Coulson. And then she greeted the blond dude by name. Yes, he trusted her beyond a doubt, but he hated watching her interact with other guys. He knew he had a jealousy streak, but it was pretty bad right now.

The two of them started to fight. He blasted Thor in the chest so it was the God's turn to crash into a tree. Thor reached for his hammer and called upon the lightning, striking Tony with it.

To Tony's immense surprise, though static sparked around him and seemed to be causing his machines to go haywire, after the lightning stopped, Jarvis informed him, "Power at four hundred percent capacity."

Well holy shit.

"How about that?" He muttered.

He blasted Thor even harder, but the God still managed to land on his feet. The two of them flew at each other, and they started to fight as they flew through the forest, crashing into trees, but neither of them letting go as they attempted to defeat the other.

They eventually crashed back to the ground once more, Thor throwing the first punch straight to the face plate, making Tony's head snap back.

Thor grabbed both his hands, starting to crush the metal there. Tony quickly blasted him to the side of the face, before headbutting him. Looking shocked, Thor headbutted him back so hard that Tony went flying off his feet.

He flew right back at Thor, grabbing him and tossing him across the clearing so that he crashed into one of the trees they had broken.

Thor got to his feet, looking angrier than he had ever before.

The two of them continued to fight before a very annoying "Hey!" sounded throughout the arena. A shield came flying through, hitting both Thor and Tony in the heads. He watched as the Cap put the shield back on his wrist. "That's enough."

"Now I don't know what you plan on doing here." Steve continued to address Thor as he leapt down from the broken tree he had been standing on.

"I've come here to put an end to Loki's schemes." Thor thundered.

"Then prove it. Put that hammer down."

"Uh yeah. . . no." Tony responded, looking at all of the information inside of his suit. "Bad call. He loves his hammer." Thor sent him flying before he could even finish the sentence.

"You want me to put the hammer down?" He heard Thor thunder again. Tony didn't get to see what happened, but there was a sudden sound like a huge church bell, a flash of brilliant blue light, and all of the trees around them cleared out.

Groaning, he sat up, looking around and saw that Steve was kneeling in the middle of what seemed like a flat crater, his shield above his head.

"Are we done here?" Steve finally asked as the three of them got to their feet.

Thor didn't answer.

But he also didn't attack.

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three-drink-amy · 5 years ago

Text

All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

masterlist - AO3

Chapter Five - There Was Something in the Air That Night

I walked onto the stage, clutching my cup of tea tightly. The cast that was required for the day was already gathered and were chatting amongst themselves. I set my things down on the table off Stage Left. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed Jamie caught up in conversation with one of the actresses in the show, Laoghaire MacKenzie. I closed my eyes, shaking my head slightly, trying to ignore the impulse that immediately came to mind.

“So you’re really Scottish?” I heard her ask.

“Yes.”

“My parents are Scottish!” she said excitedly.

“Nice. Have ye ever been to Scotland?” I tried not to look in the general direction of their conversation, pretending instead to be checking my email before rehearsal started in earnest.

“Oh, no. My parents were both born there though,” she replied.

“Ah,” he said shortly. “Seems like I’d have a lot to talk about wi’ yer parents, then.” I choked back a laugh, covering it as a cough and finally gave into the urge to glance over. Jamie was walking away from her and onto stage.

I followed him, calling everyone’s attention. “Let’s get started, people!” Opening my script, I turned to the right page. “Act One, Scene Five today,” I reminded them. The blocking was completed last week, now was seeing how it all worked.

Jamie fell back by the bookshelf downstage and stared at his script intently. I found myself more and more often watching him as he worked on his craft. It was captivating to me to see how someone getting their first big role adjusted to it. Granted, almost everything he did was captivating to me, one way or another. It was a terrible spot to be in, but here I was. I backed off the stage, walking down to sit in the front and gestured for Joe to start.

I watched as the words I’d been enthralled by were blended with the directions I’d provided and the actors’ own decisions. I treasured the magic of watching a show come together, of being able to watch a scene play out and mentally put a check mark by it, knowing it was completed enough to move onto another scene. John and I — and I suppose, Marilyn — had cast plays together a few times. I knew we were good at it. But watching the actors gel together and become something of their own while adopting their characters was always a thrill. I made notes as I watched it play out — things to correct, lines to emphasize, blocking to tighten. It was routine to me, and yet somehow still unique. I loved this part of it — watching it all come together, bit by bit.

After hours of hard work, we finally broke for lunch. There would be more scenes to go through after lunch. I needed more caffeine and my favorite soup from the deli a few blocks away. I ran in, disappointed by the long line. Releasing a sigh, I resigned myself to wait. I wanted that damn soup.

* * *

Jamie watched Claire leave as lunch time finally approached. He walked slowly out of the theater, deciding to find somewhere to eat on his own. By the time he was out on the street, he’d decided what sounded good. It had only been a few weeks ago that he’d found the place, just a few blocks from the theater. As he made his way there, his mind was on the way the morning had turned out. He kept hearing Claire’s notes in his mind as he waited for the next walk sign to turn.

As it always did, thinking on Claire’s directions somehow morphed into just thinking about Claire. It was terrible, and was certainly part of the reason he was reluctant to take the role in the first place. Second only to his fears of accusations and rumors. But then there was Claire, the gorgeous, smart, funny woman who was basically his boss now. And he knew exactly what she looked like when she fell apart. Nothing could happen — he reminded himself of that daily — but it didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of him that wanted it to.

He opened the door to the deli, trying to shake Claire from his mind. Jamie would have laughed to himself if he wasn’t so surprised by the fact that Claire was standing in line, two people ahead of him. “Claire?” he asked, unable to pretend she wasn’t there.

She turned around, looking past the people between them. A smile crossed her face and he hated himself for how much he felt it. Claire stepped out of line, letting the two people between them go ahead of her. “You like this place?” she asked.

He nodded, looking around. “I’ve only been here a few times, but they’ve the best pastrami sandwich I’ve ever had.”

Her nose wrinkled at his meal choice. “Really? That’s your go-to?”

Jamie shrugged. “Why no’? It’s good.”

“I guess if that’s what you like.” She turned back to look toward the counter.

Jamie couldn’t let the conversation die. It was the first one they’d had in a long time that wasn’t somewhat related to the play. “Well, what’s yer go-to, then?”

Claire turned back, a small grin on her face. “Their soup. It’s delicious.”

“To each their own, I suppose.”

“You’re not a soup person?”

He shook his head. “Nah.”

“What if you’re sick?” she pressed.

One brow raised thoughtfully. “Perhaps if I’m sick, I’ll eat it. But I’m just no’ much of a soup person.”

“Okay, so what do you eat if you’re stuck inside on a cold, rainy, Scottish day?”

Jamie let out a loud laugh. “I dinna ken. A sandwich?” he replied with a shrug. “I dinna usually let the weather determine what I’m eating.”

“Hmm.” Her face was towards the front again, as if she needed to decide what to get. “So, this pastrami sandwich,” she continued, “anything special about it?”

“No pickle,” Jamie told her. “But other than that, no. Just a normal sandwich. And a side of chips. I’m no’ that fancy. Perhaps, one day, if I’ve been on Broadway for years and years, I’ll get a more pretentious order,” he teased.

Claire whipped back around and shot him a look. She knew he was kidding, he could tell by the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know how soup is pretentious.”

“Is it a bisque?” he joked.

“You’re impossible.”

Claire stepped up to the counter when it was her turn to order. He stood a respectful distance back, even if he wanted to stand right next to her like they were together. At one point, she leaned closer to the register, talking in a smaller voice. The cashier nodded, glancing quickly at the line behind Claire. Paying and restashing her wallet, Claire held her hand out for the bag with her ready-to-go soup in it. She thanked the cashier and turned around. Giving Jamie a small smile, she walked out of the deli, most likely going right back to the theater.

Jamie stepped forward to order and the cashier handed him a plastic number. He looked down at it with a confused expression. “That lady in front of you already placed and paid for your order,” she explained. “This is your number.” Jamie’s mouth hung open as he tried to process what she was saying. The woman cleared her throat and gestured for him to move aside.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, walking over toward the pick up spot. He glanced out the door, waiting to see if Claire was lingering. She wasn’t. It didn’t really make sense why she’d pay for him. Either way, he was touched by the gesture, even if it did nothing to ease the way he felt about her. Adding unnecessary generosity to the list of her qualities, he waited for his number to be called.

Jamie quickly ate his lunch at the deli, wishing he could think of anything but Claire. He couldn’t help but wonder if she ever had the same problems he did. Did she ever think of the night they’d spent together? Did she ever wonder what would have happened if it had been a different play he’d been auditioning for? Did she ever talk to him and then examine it all later? Rolling his eyes at himself, he took another bite of his sandwich.

No, she probably didn’t do any of that. He got the distinct feeling that Claire wasn’t as pathetic as he was. She was a damn professional and had acted as such the entire time of production. It was only him that imagined that her praise was just for him. It was only him that pictured joining her after a day at the theater and spending the evening together. He needed to move past it, but it was nearly impossible when he spent all day with her. One day, he’d be able to move on. Well, hopefully. But today, he was still caught up in how easy it was to be around her. In how delightful it was to hear her laugh. In the way his stomach clenched at the memory of her in his arms.

As he threw away the remnants of his lunch, he tried to start building the facade he’d need to go back and face her again.

* * *

Production continued and I was pleased with how things were progressing. There were plenty of long days that sometimes stretched into the night, but we were all determined to get things right. Straight shows had less production time than musicals (for obvious reasons), but I was ready to use each available minute we had to get things perfect.

The cast, however, was not necessarily in agreement.

I could see it in their eyes on days when I’d kept them too long, run them too ragged, repeated a scene too many times. I never apologized for it, because in the end, it would make us better. But, there was the soft part of me that wondered what they thought of me on those days. Would they all go out and berate me? Would I be called a stick in the mud or accused of having one up my arse? I’d heard those comments and worse. And while I never enjoyed hearing it, I knew that they could bitch all they wanted because when opening night came, I’d have them in tip top shape whether they wanted it or not.

One Friday, in the early evening, I could tell the cast was getting drained. It wasn’t in my nature to care all that much, but for some reason, I did. I shortened the schedule from two scenes to the one we were working on. As soon as we finished it, I allowed them all to leave for the weekend. I’d justify it to myself with the reminder of other things I had to work on. A director’s job was more than just overseeing rehearsals, after all.

I watched them all talking as they readied to leave. Gathering my things, I prepared to return to my office, but I was stopped as I packed my bag.

“Claire,” Jamie said as he approached me, “I ken we’re done for the day, but I was hoping to ask ye a few questions about the script if ye had time.”

Looking over at him, I nodded. “Of course. Wrapping up early was more for everyone else’s benefit.”

“Ah, that’s kind of ye,” he commented. I smiled, pretending like I didn’t take it to heart. Pointing to his script, I reminded him of why he walked over. He shuffled it open to the page he wanted. “Okay, so in this scene — I was working on it and it just felt a bit...off.”

“How so?”

He started to explain what he wanted to be able to do and I was caught in another bout of being in awe of him. All actors found a way to connect to their characters, but watching Jamie work was just mesmerizing. The ideas he had and the way he wanted to do this monologue were brilliant. I felt myself nod along as he continued to elaborate on the scene.

“How does that sound?” he asked, his face a bit nervous.

I tilted my head, looking at him. “I think it sounds like you have a really good handle on your character,” I told him honestly.

“Really?”

I smiled and nodded insistently. “Yes, really.”

A shy smile crossed his face. “Thank you. There was another scene I wanted to discuss wi’ ye.” He flipped pages quickly. “Alright, this one where he’s by himself at home, going over the revelation from the scene before. I’ve been doing it one way until the other night a different line jumped out at me and I thought of it from a different perspective. It changed everything to me.”

“Okay. So how do you want to do it?”

He looked at me, passion behind his eyes as he started to explain his new interpretation. Midway through his explanation, he was interrupted.

“Jamie!” Laoghaire called, running onstage to grab his arm. He looked over at her with a stunned expression. “Since we’re off early, a bunch of us decided we’re going to go to a club. You should come with us!” she exclaimed, pulling his arm, trying to get him further from me.

“I’m actually trying to go over some scenes right now,” Jamie told her, gesturing to his script and me. Laoghaire shot me a look. I knew she wasn’t my biggest fan. She couldn’t do anything about it, though, because I held her career in the palm of my hand.

“Okay, well when you’re done, you should come meet us,” she insisted, playfully tugging on his arm. I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible. Jamie was nothing to me but one of the actors in my play. That’s all anyone needed to know. Laoghaire shouldn’t be bothering me so much.

“Sorry, but no. I appreciate the offer, but it doesna really sound like my thing,” Jamie brushed off, trying to get his arm back.

“Come on, you have to!” she whined.

“He said no. And I rather thought no meant no,” I interjected. Grimacing at myself, I glanced over at Jamie but saw an amused expression on his face he was desperately trying and failing to hide. Laoghaire stared at me for a moment — glared, really. “Sorry, we’re just trying to get something accomplished here.”

She let go of Jamie’s arm with a huff. “Sorry to interrupt,” she replied in a formal tone. The girl was halfway off the stage when she turned back. “Jamie, maybe when you’re done here, you’ll reconsider. I’ll text you where we’re going.”

He rolled his eyes at his script. “Aye,” he called back without looking at her. When the door closed behind her, he released a sigh. “Sorry about that,” he said in a small voice.

“Don’t worry about it. So, you were saying how you wanted to do that second monologue.”

“Aye,” he reminded himself. His eyes closed for a second, recentering himself. “Okay, so I was thinking…” he trailed off for a moment. Looking at me, he had a question in his eyes. “Do ye think I could just show ye what I was thinking instead of explaining it?”

I took a step back, gesturing for him to take the stage. “Of course. Please do.”

“Great,” he said as he stepped into place. I watched as he took a moment to get back into character. He was transformed in front of me. Words were coming out of his mouth but he was no longer Jamie; he was Peter. Following the directions already set for the scene, he acted out the monologue, this time with a new take on it. I found myself captivated, even more than usual when I watched him. It was an emotional scene and he was taking it to new heights.

The monologue was interrupted by a loud notification from my phone. I cringed, holding my hand up in apology. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I grabbed my phone and looked down. “Oh, my food is on its way.”

“Ye ordered in?”

“Yeah, I have more work to do. It’s easier to just do it here. I won’t get distracted as easily by my TV,” I reasoned.

Jamie laughed. “I suppose that makes sense.” He walked closer to me. “Would ye mind if I ordered something here as well? I have some other parts I wanted to ask yer advice on.” He took a deep breath. “I ken ye have other stuff to work on, though.”

“Jamie, you have the weekend off. We don’t have to go over everything right now. You’re allowed to go enjoy your weekend. You’ll only get so many of them before it’s 8 shows in 7 days,” I reminded him.

“I ken that, but I’d rather have my questions answered so that I can be rehearsing the way I should be,” he explained. My eyes widened slightly as I looked at him. “Is that stupid of me to say?”

I shook my head, no words coming to mind for a moment. “No,” I said in a small voice. “It’s just…” I tried to think of how to explain it. “It’s just been a while since I worked with someone who was so excited about it all. You know? I mean, take Joe for example. Joe loves what he does and you can see that, but he’s been doing it forever. I haven’t had someone in a while — maybe ever, actually — who asked my opinions on their performance and visibly put so much effort into it.”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly.

I reached out, grabbing his arm. “Jamie, that’s not a bad thing at all! It’s admirable. You’re taking it all so seriously and working your arse off and it’s wonderful.”

He nodded, understanding what I meant. “I dinna want to squander the chance ye’ve given me.”

“You’re not, I promise you. Nor will I think you’re squandering it if you take a weekend to just relax,” I assured him.

“I still would rather get things down, if that’s alright wi’ ye. I can go, though, if ye’d rather work on yer other things or just have some time to yerself. I can –”

“Jamie,” I interrupted him, “it’s fine. You’re welcome to stay.”

He smiled, nodding at me. “Thank ye.” Pulling out his phone, he pointed to it. “I’ll, uh, take a minute to order something, if that’s alright.”

I laughed lightly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He clicked away on his phone before placing it back in his pocket. We workshopped scenes until both our orders had arrived. Jamie was ready to spread out on the stage and eat, but I motioned for him to follow me back to my office. I liked to eat at a table if ever possible.

We sat on either side of my desk and I pointedly ignored the other work I needed to be doing. Conversation flowed easily between us. But then again, it always did. We talked about the play. About the cast. About John’s easily excitable spirit when it came to Broadway. We talked about everything. Everything except us.

“What made you want to become an actor?” I asked, verging dangerously close into personal territory.

A sheepish look crossed Jamie’s face. “Ye’ll make fun of me.”

“No, I will not!”

He sighed deeply, like he was about to say something he’d regret. “Okay, so when I was 15-years-old, a tour of Mamma Mia came to Edinburgh and my sister demanded I had to go wi’ her.”

My mouth flattened into a line as I nodded for him to continue.

His eyes narrowed at me briefly. “So, ridiculous as the show is, I was in awe of it all. They looked like they were having the time of their lives and I wanted to do that too.”

“Mamma Mia is a fine show,” I told him. “It’s just surprising to me that that was the show that did it.”

He shrugged. “So ye’ve seen it, then?”

“I grew up on Broadway. I’ve seen everything.”

A grin spread across his face, like he’d found a new challenge. “Okay, then what’s yer favorite show?”

“Musical or straight show?”

His eyebrows raised. “Both.”

I felt the corner of my mouth tug into a small smile. “Straight show is A Raisin in the Sun.” I could answer that easily.

“And yer favorite musical?” His grin widened. I knew he could sense my hesitance.

I sighed dramatically, not wanting to answer. More than one person had teased me when I told them my true answer. He raised one brow at me. “Fine. It’s Phantom.”

A laugh escaped him, though I knew he was trying to hold it back. “Why are ye so ashamed of that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Because as a part of the Broadway world, I feel like I’m supposed to have a more sophisticated choice.”

“So, then, why Phantom?” he asked, a grin still on his face.

“Well, it was one of the first musicals I ever saw. I was maybe 12 and something about the Phantom was just captivating. I think it might have been the mask. I think it awakened something within me.”

Jamie laughed loudly. “Wow. So let’s say ye’re at a masquerade party. Are ye just wildly turned on the whole time?”

I laughed in surprise at his question. It was a dangerous turn in conversation, to be sure, but I didn’t hate it. “Well thankfully, I’ve never been invited to a masquerade party. That could be a hairy situation.”

He shook his head, continuing to laugh. “I’ll give ye this, it is a verra entertaining show. And that soundtrack. “Music of the Night” is so good.”

“I always liked “Think of Me,” personally.” I swallowed, cursing myself. The song seemed a bit too poignant at the moment. Just looking at him across my desk, one line rang through my head. Don’t think about the way things might have been.

Jamie nodded, a polite smile still on his face. “Aye. That’s a good one as well.” His expression almost seemed strained.

For the first time, I considered what he might think of our situation. Shaking my head to myself, I was reminded of his reaction to knowing me. I cleared my throat, trying to get past this moment I’d accidentally gotten myself into. “What about you? What are your favorites? Mamma Mia?” I asked, teasing him.

It got the desired effect. He laughed a bit, shaking his head. “Nah.”

“So what are they?”

“My favorite straight show is Much Ado About Nothing.”

“Really?”

“It’s Shakespeare! Tis just a classic. And no’ as depressing as any of the dramas,” he reasoned.

I nodded slightly. “I’m surprised as a Scot you’re not saying the Scottish Play.”

“And potentially curse us? We’re in a theater!” He chuckled. “As for my favorite musical…” He tapped his chin, thinking. “Do I have to have seen it?”

“You can’t say Hamilton if you haven’t seen it!” I declared.

He laughed. “How did ye ken that was what I meant.” I just raised an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed in my direction. “Have ye seen it?”

I fought a smile as I leaned back in my chair. “Yes. I actually saw it Off-Broadway.” He glared at me, shaking his head. “You’re the one who asked!” I couldn’t help but make him a bit more irritated with me. “And then I saw it a couple of times on Broadway as well,” I informed him, following up with a small snicker.

“Ye’re the worst,” he informed me. “What are ye going to say next, that ye’re close friends with Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

I laughed loudly, leaning forward. “I wish. He seems like a cool guy. Sadly, no, we’re not friends. Although, I did meet him once.”

Jamie’s glare returned. “Let me guess, at the Tony’s.”

I nodded happily. “Yes, in fact.” I took a sip of my water. “You never said what your favorite musical is. If you don’t tell me, I’m just going to assume it’s Mamma Mia.”

“Ah, yes. It’s actually Rent.”

I smiled fondly as I leaned back in my chair. “A classic for certain. You can’t really beat “Seasons of Love.””

He nodded his agreement. “Aye. Ye missed it the other day when we broke out into it in the green room.”

My eyes went wide. “You’re kidding.”

Jamie shook his head. “No, I’m no’. And I can tell ye, myself included, that there’s a reason some of us are no’ in a musical right now,” he informed me with a guffaw.

“Can you make this organically happen again when I’m around?” I practically pleaded. “I would love to witness some trainwreck like that.” He laughed, but I grew a bit serious. “Those types of fun moments never seem to happen when I’m around.” When I finally looked up at him, he had an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Don’t worry, I know it’s because they don’t like me.”

“They like ye,” he tried.

“Jamie, you don’t have to –”

“No, they do. They’re just a bit scared of ye,” he explained. My eyebrows rose. “Ye’re pretty much their boss, though.”

“So, you’re saying I’m the scary bitch boss?”

“I wouldna say that. Tis more like the boss ye’re intimidated by, but have an immense respect for.” Looking at him, I could see the earnestness on his face. “It’s clear ye ken what ye’re doing and that ye’re no’ afraid to ask what ye want. They’re afraid of pissing ye off.”

“What about you?”

Jamie locked eyes with me. I could feel something between us, but I couldn’t name it. “That immense respect sounds about right.”

I felt the warmth of his statement, a small smile spreading on my face. “But are you afraid of me?”

“Do you think I’d be sitting here if I was?” He sighed as he sat back in his chair. “I’m perhaps a bit afraid that at some point, ye’ll realize ye made the wrong choice casting a no name and ye’ll want Bradley Cooper.”

I laughed. “That’s one thing you don’t have to be afraid of, Jamie. I promise you that.”

He smiled, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap. “So what’s yer favorite part of a show?”

I knew my answer, but it seemed a bit cliche. “Opening Night,” I told him. He could sense there was more and nodded for me to continue. “It’s when everything’s come together. The play has been cast. The lighting cues are set. The music is selected. The costumes are finished. The blocking is done. The rehearsals are over. And it’s time to see if it’s all come together in the right way. It’s terrifying in a way, but so exhilarating. Seeing it all fall into place — the months of planning it — and suddenly, it’s there. People are seeing it and hopefully enjoying it. It’s what I love most about directing. Getting to the part where it’s not just all in my head.”

An impressed look crossed his face. “I like that answer. Soon enough ye’ll be there again.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “What about you? What’s your favorite part of a show?”

“The curtain call,” he told me without hesitation. I raised one brow. “Ye just see how happy they all are. They did it, usually with no big disasters. And they come together and seem genuinely thrilled to be there. It’s the first time ye get to see them as people and no’ just their characters, ye ken?” I smiled as I nodded. “I canna say why, but I’ve just always loved to watch the curtain calls.”

“I could see as an actor why that would be your favorite.” I tilted my head a bit, looking at him. “You’re almost there too.”

He took a deep breath, nodding at me. His wrist turned and he took a glance at his watch. “Shit,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’ve kept ye from yer work and now it’s late.”

I looked at my own watch and found he was right. I’d have probably been home by now if I’d eaten by myself. We’d gotten caught up in conversation and chatted for hours without really realizing it. I hated how comfortable it all felt. It shouldn’t be this easy with the person I couldn’t be with. I shook my head at him. “It’s okay. There are other days for it.” I sat forward to throw away my takeout box. “And this wasn’t totally unpleasant.”

Jamie grinned, seeing through my comment. “Well, I should get going.”

“If you wait just a moment, I’ll walk out with you,” I told him as I packed up my bag. Some of my work I could do at home this weekend. He waited by the door til I was ready to go. We walked side by side, but far enough apart that our hands wouldn’t accidentally touch. Just in case, I pulled my hand up and held it on the crossbody strap of my bag.

When we got outside, I turned to lock up. The janitorial squad was long gone. That should have been my indicator that Jamie and I had stayed too long. We had been oblivious to anything that wasn’t us. I tried to ignore what that could mean. It means nothing, I insisted mentally.

“Do ye, uh, need any help getting home,” Jamie offered.

“I have successfully done so every other day of my adult life, but thank you,” I teased. He blushed a bit, shaking his head. “I appreciate the offer,” I added. “Besides, your home is a lot further away.”

His eyes landed on mine, holding my gaze for a moment. And I’d done it. I’d acknowledged the fact that I knew where he lived. The entire time we’d been working together, we’d done our best to pretend that night had never happened. But my comment brought it all back and I could see it in his eyes. I’d broken the unsaid rule.

“Ye live somewhere verra nice, don’t ye?” he asked, his tone light. I was thankful for his ability to just sidestep that moment.

“I don’t know,” I avoided. “Is Central Park West nice?”

He shook his head with a small laugh. “Perhaps.” His eyes rolled a bit. “Christ, ye probably thought my place was a dump.”

I stared at him for a moment. He was breaking the unsaid rule, too. “I didn’t,” I promised him. His eyes lingered on me longer than I was expecting. I took a deep breath. “Besides, if we’d have gone to my place, the jig would have been up pretty fast.”

“What, do ye have yer name in lights across yer flat?” he teased.

“Thankfully, I’m not quite that conceited.”

“Would it have been yer Tony Award wi’ yer name carved in it then?” he pressed, somehow reading my mind.

“Perhaps.”

“I would imagine it’s prominently displayed.”

“Perhaps,” I repeated.

“As it should be.” He swallowed harshly. “Then, I suppose it’s a good thing we didna go there.” His eyes were on his feet now. My breath drew short at his comment. Maybe he didn’t regret it after all. I knew I didn’t, even after all the awkwardness.

“I suppose,” I whispered.

Our eyes met again and held. There were so many things I wanted to say. So many things I wanted to ask him. I couldn’t. And he couldn’t answer them. I didn’t know how he felt, but the feeling of his eyes watching me brought back that spark I’d felt that night. The same spark I’d felt several times since then, but only in his presence.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “It’s late. You should be getting home.”

I wanted more than anything to invite him home with me. But yet again, I couldn’t. Instead, I just nodded. “Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Goodnight, Jamie.”

“Goodnight, Claire.”

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing #all the shine of a thousand spotlights

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