![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bantha_foddera sweet display of nothingness (of everything) (of nevermind) by Pen
RPF, Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson, G.
This is a story about ridiculous old friends.
This story is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sloanesomething.
**
The director cuts, and she calls over her shoulder to Alan. "This is the scene," she says, face stern, "when we find out what a bastard you are."
"Yes, well, it could hardly come as a surprise to you," he says, and she shakes her head, soberly.
"No, you're right. Too many years held victim to your bullying tactics," she says, and Lulu hugs her waist.
"Is he very mean?" Lulu asks, mock-seriously.
"Oh, yes," she replies. "The meanest."
"I don't have to take this sort of slander," he says, before the director calls them back into line.
**
There's this one moment, when he's filming with Laura, and he sits on the edge of the desk, and there are some papers that he's crushing but that's in character for Harry, really, and as he leans against the desk there's a faint farting noise, and Laura starts giggling.
There's a whoopee cushion on the desk, and there is only one person in the entire world who could have left it there, he knows.
He waits to start the scene again and soldiers on; he's a professional, unlike some people.
**
"I suppose you think that was funny," he says, later.
"Yes," she replies, "I suppose I do."
**
The phone rings, and she pauses, dress half on. "You are going to this thing tonight, aren't you?" Alan asks.
"You called for that?" she asks of him. "Two hours before the premiere that we have been explicitly ordered to attend, and you call to see if I'm going?"
"You've always been a troublemaker. I thought I'd just make sure."
"I don't know if this friendship is worth it, Alan. I'm half naked, and your intellectual capabilities are clearly not up to my very exacting standards."
Greg yells from down the hall. "Say hello to Alan for me!"
"Greg says you're an old bastard," she says down the phone, and he laughs before hanging up on her.
She knows he knows she lies, and she has Gaia zip up her dress.
**
After the screening, Alan kisses her cheek. "You didn't need to finish dressing," he says. "You're simply ravishing with half your clothes on."
She doesn't even bother to slap his arm, and he doesn't think she even registers the comment.
**
They stand there in the cold with their cloaks, surrounded by teenagers, waiting for the call back to set.
"Will we grow old together, do you think?" she asks, idly.
"Yes," he says, the disdain clear in just one syllable. "You, me, your husband, your daughter, my girlfriend, and our dogs."
"You've not a romantic bone in your body," she replies. "No colour, no soul. I don't know why I put up with you."
"What do you expect?" he asks. "We're old already, Emma."
She slaps him with the backs of her fingers. "Speak for yourself. I'm still spritely, as you were when we first met."
"Twenty years ago," he says, leans over. He runs one finger down her cheek. "Look at these wrinkles. They certainly weren't there when we met."
She pushes him carefully into the mud, knows Sally in wardrobe will be most upset.
Alan laughs.
**
Six months go by, a year; she gets a postcard from France and a card, four weeks after her birthday.
She gets a telegram the day after she gets the call, an actual telegram. She didn't realise they existed outside communiques from the Queen on one's fiftieth wedding anniversary. I'm not working with you, it says. You've worked with Firth twice now.
She laughs.
**
They stand outside in their cloaks, and she fiddles with her glasses.
"I think we've been here before," he says, dryly.
"I think Snape would look excellent in these glasses," she says, and drops them delicately onto his nose. Daniel appears from nowhere, a camera in his hands.
"Brilliant," he says, takes a photo before Alan can stop him.
Emma laughs, and Alan pushes her over; she grips his arm, and he falls, too.
Daniel laughs, causing everyone else to notice, and the lot breaks out in laughter.
He pulls the glasses off his nose.
**
He visits her house on the way. "A belated birthday gift," he announces when she opens the door.
"Well, that's a first," she says. He kisses her cheek; makes to turn. She grabs a hold of his hand in hers; kisses his fingers and smiles at him.
"You are very good to me," she says.
"It's what I'm for. Why else would you keep me around?"
She kisses his cheek. "Let me come with you," she says, grabs her purse and pulls the door shut behind.
In the limousine they speak of nothing; of old friends and potential projects and that time she deserted a mutual project to incubate a beautiful girl, and when they pull up at the screening she gestures at him to go first.
"You're older than me," she says. "I must be respectful to my elders."
He smiles fondly the entire screening and through the parties afterwards, and nobody asks him why.
END
RPF, Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson, G.
This is a story about ridiculous old friends.
This story is for
sloanesomething.**
The director cuts, and she calls over her shoulder to Alan. "This is the scene," she says, face stern, "when we find out what a bastard you are."
"Yes, well, it could hardly come as a surprise to you," he says, and she shakes her head, soberly.
"No, you're right. Too many years held victim to your bullying tactics," she says, and Lulu hugs her waist.
"Is he very mean?" Lulu asks, mock-seriously.
"Oh, yes," she replies. "The meanest."
"I don't have to take this sort of slander," he says, before the director calls them back into line.
**
There's this one moment, when he's filming with Laura, and he sits on the edge of the desk, and there are some papers that he's crushing but that's in character for Harry, really, and as he leans against the desk there's a faint farting noise, and Laura starts giggling.
There's a whoopee cushion on the desk, and there is only one person in the entire world who could have left it there, he knows.
He waits to start the scene again and soldiers on; he's a professional, unlike some people.
**
"I suppose you think that was funny," he says, later.
"Yes," she replies, "I suppose I do."
**
The phone rings, and she pauses, dress half on. "You are going to this thing tonight, aren't you?" Alan asks.
"You called for that?" she asks of him. "Two hours before the premiere that we have been explicitly ordered to attend, and you call to see if I'm going?"
"You've always been a troublemaker. I thought I'd just make sure."
"I don't know if this friendship is worth it, Alan. I'm half naked, and your intellectual capabilities are clearly not up to my very exacting standards."
Greg yells from down the hall. "Say hello to Alan for me!"
"Greg says you're an old bastard," she says down the phone, and he laughs before hanging up on her.
She knows he knows she lies, and she has Gaia zip up her dress.
**
After the screening, Alan kisses her cheek. "You didn't need to finish dressing," he says. "You're simply ravishing with half your clothes on."
She doesn't even bother to slap his arm, and he doesn't think she even registers the comment.
**
They stand there in the cold with their cloaks, surrounded by teenagers, waiting for the call back to set.
"Will we grow old together, do you think?" she asks, idly.
"Yes," he says, the disdain clear in just one syllable. "You, me, your husband, your daughter, my girlfriend, and our dogs."
"You've not a romantic bone in your body," she replies. "No colour, no soul. I don't know why I put up with you."
"What do you expect?" he asks. "We're old already, Emma."
She slaps him with the backs of her fingers. "Speak for yourself. I'm still spritely, as you were when we first met."
"Twenty years ago," he says, leans over. He runs one finger down her cheek. "Look at these wrinkles. They certainly weren't there when we met."
She pushes him carefully into the mud, knows Sally in wardrobe will be most upset.
Alan laughs.
**
Six months go by, a year; she gets a postcard from France and a card, four weeks after her birthday.
She gets a telegram the day after she gets the call, an actual telegram. She didn't realise they existed outside communiques from the Queen on one's fiftieth wedding anniversary. I'm not working with you, it says. You've worked with Firth twice now.
She laughs.
**
They stand outside in their cloaks, and she fiddles with her glasses.
"I think we've been here before," he says, dryly.
"I think Snape would look excellent in these glasses," she says, and drops them delicately onto his nose. Daniel appears from nowhere, a camera in his hands.
"Brilliant," he says, takes a photo before Alan can stop him.
Emma laughs, and Alan pushes her over; she grips his arm, and he falls, too.
Daniel laughs, causing everyone else to notice, and the lot breaks out in laughter.
He pulls the glasses off his nose.
**
He visits her house on the way. "A belated birthday gift," he announces when she opens the door.
"Well, that's a first," she says. He kisses her cheek; makes to turn. She grabs a hold of his hand in hers; kisses his fingers and smiles at him.
"You are very good to me," she says.
"It's what I'm for. Why else would you keep me around?"
She kisses his cheek. "Let me come with you," she says, grabs her purse and pulls the door shut behind.
In the limousine they speak of nothing; of old friends and potential projects and that time she deserted a mutual project to incubate a beautiful girl, and when they pull up at the screening she gestures at him to go first.
"You're older than me," she says. "I must be respectful to my elders."
He smiles fondly the entire screening and through the parties afterwards, and nobody asks him why.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-16 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-18 06:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-16 01:36 pm (UTC)That was delicious. Lies ftw!!!1!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-18 06:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-16 01:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-18 06:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-16 01:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-18 06:24 am (UTC)LIKE HAWKSLEY WORKMAN, ZOMG.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-30 06:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 04:03 am (UTC)Lovely!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 10:51 am (UTC)