Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

. . . And Jesus Brought a Casserole	By : Faline Category: Casts RPF > Smallville Views: 2473 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Note to Myself
- 2-K & R
- 1
- 2
So, that wonderful pin I stepped on last night? Well, that little puncture has become infected. So infected that by the end of shooting today I’d been reduced to limping severely everywhere. After the first twenty people that had asked, Allison made me a little sign to hang around my neck that read, ‘Suffering from cramps. Keep your distance.’
It worked, for the last few hours at least. No more questions about the limp, however there were a few startled and worried looks. Whatever, let them imagine what they will. As long as they don’t ask about the god damn limp.
The bath water is heaven now, though. Slightly oiled with lavender and rose, just the way I like it. The spa is a nice touch too. This has got to be one of the best parts about this job, the apartment of wonder.
Choke is in my hands, balanced above the water precariously. Only a few chapters left, and I’m wishing it was another 200 pages long. Not that the book has needed it, just that I don’t want it to end. There’s so much good stuff in Palahniuk books. The kind of stuff that makes you think. After I read Fight Club I threw away everything, practically, and moved out of state for two years. Any man that can make me leave Michigan deserves a gold medal.
Page 293 creeps up on me just as my cell rings and I’m really torn between just letting who ever it is bugger off so I can finish the book and answering. My voicemail picks up the message, however, the phone is ringing again a minute later. Whatsername comes blasting through the door. It’s the lovely sound of someone sending me a text message. I groan. I’m almost done with this damn book.
The book gets deposited on the floor and I stand, wrapping a towel around me as I head out of the bath room. My cell is in the next room, waiting for me on an end table. I pick it up and immediately chuckle. Allison. Her text message is a bit short and cryptic. It tells me to be out front of my building and ready in twenty.
I glance at the clock. It’s almost midnight. My call is at 7:30 for make-up. That gives me almost two hours to get a decent amount of sleep. I check my voice mail. It’s just as cryptic. What the hell, why not?
Twenty two minutes later, I’m almost drenched, but grinning as this huge conversion van pulls up along the curb. I laugh, I just have to, as the side door pops oven and Tom chauffeurs me into the back. Holy god, it’s not a van, it’s a shaggin’ wagon.
“Come on guys, quick. We’re gonna miss MXC.” As I stumble my way over to the couch, Michael leans back around and puts the van in drive. And we’re off. Allison turns around from the front passenger seat.
“Welcome to the party.” I grin back at her and accept the pop Jensen hands me.
In the dim light of the back, I notice a woman sitting in between Tom and Allison. She grins up at me and Tom says, “This is Jamie, my wife.” I shake her hand.
“Where exactly are we going anyway?”
“It’s a secret.” Jensen nudges me as he says it and there’s a secretive smile shared by everyone except for me. That makes me a little nervous.
“Mike mentioned MXC. What about MXC?”
“Shhhh.” I’m shushed! Actually shushed. Well, that hasn’t happened in a while.
I give Jensen my best ‘annoyed’ expression. “You know, a girl has a right to know where she’s being taken to after a hasty kidnap. I hope you guys don’t intend to ransom me.”
“Nah, we were thinking we’d just keep you.” All right, that was a good come back. Another grin, this time from Kristen. God, she’s a beautiful girl. Oh, to be 21 and hot again.
“We’re here!” Michael throws the van in park and launches himself out of the vehicle. I move to get up but Jensen has other plans. He produces a handkerchief out of thin air and holds it up suggestively. After a few moments more annoyed looks, he just shrugs and ties it around my eyes.
Now I’m screwed. I’m a klutz when I can see. I only hope I don’t make a hideous mistake and land on my face or something. The side door is opened and I’m pulled up and lead out.
We’re still in the city. Probably in a parking garage. I can hear a city street, however it’s muffled. Maybe the first or second level. The noise is still loud enough. The rain has eased though, thankfully. I hope they don’t take me back outside though. Puddles are not my friend. The group remains fairly quiet as we cross to what I’m going to hope is an elevator. I don’t even want to imagine stairs like this. We stop. An elevator dings. Thank god.
Male hands, probably Michael’s or Jensen’s grab my upper arms and lead me forward, stopping me before I hit the wall. To gauge my surroundings, I raise a hand and reach out for the back of the car. It hits a chest instead.
“Oh shit, my bad. I didn’t know you were in front of me.” Everyone chuckles around me. I run a hand up the chest to who ever’s shoulder.
Has to be Mike. Jensen wasn’t wearing a jacket. “Hey now. No groping in front of others.” Yup. Mike. I giggle, actually giggle. It sends the rest into peels of even more laughter and I’m starting to get the idea that they’re all stoned, or else spend their days in perpetual joy. Since I don’t smell weed, the latter is the answer and that makes me happy. At least I’ll be working with happy people. That’s always a plus.
The car lurches into movement and instinctively I grasp both of his shoulders now. I take just a moment to enjoy the nice muscle.
“He meant what he said Kendra. No groping in front of others.”
“You know, I don’t think you fully understand what it’s like to feel the ground moving and not understand why.”
“Actually I do. They did this to me my first night as well.” Jensen chuckles, he’s to my immediately left and back behind me a little.
“Great, I’m with a bunch of serial kidnappers. That makes me feel so much better.”
I try to mentally count the floors but I lose track after thirteen. My hands have long since been removed from Mike’s shoulders. I stick my hands in my back pockets to keep them from getting ‘gropy’ again. My left hand curls around my phone and I stroke it reassuringly. If anything bad happens, at least I know that by touch alone.
“All right, everyone take your seats.” Kristen to my right, up against the wall if the echo is anything to go by. I hear a few people shuffle as they sit, however, I don’t like this idea.
“WHAT?!”
Kristen, or at least that’s who I assume it is, puts a hand on my arm. “It’s cool. Just a fun game we play in elevators. Sit down, it won’t hurt, I promise.” I comply, landing hard on my ass. There’s no being graceful when your equilibrium is off, really.
The car stops and my stomach goes from normal resting mode to my throat in half a second flat. “Oh god.” The other three women all laugh in joy while the guys cheer. There’s a mad scramble and the group rises. Two people pull me to my feet and turn me around.
There’s nice carpet under my feet. I reach out to my right and my hand hits a wall. I drag it along as we walk, encountering a door every now and then. An apartment building. Another stop and a jingle of keys. Someone lives here. I can’t guess however, since I don’t know whose where anymore.
I’m given a little shove as someone pulls my blindfold off. I blink rapidly, trying to not scream from the intruding light, but grin when I see where I am.
It is an apartment, but it’s probably more festive then regular. There are balloons littering the floor around the main room, which looks like the living room. To my left there’s a table set up and all the regular kitchen equipment. On the table is a cake. On the far wall there’s a TV with three couches and a few big comfy chairs sitting around it. I turn around to look at everyone.
Grins for everyone, quite literally. “Welcome to the show Kendra.” Allison steps forward and gives me a huge hug. The other four actors came forward and I was suddenly surrounded by a big group hug.
“Jesus, you people don’t understand claustrophobia, do you?” More laughing and everyone backs off. I looked from face to face expectantly, but no one said anything. “Now, what’s this about MXC?”

~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Five beers later and I seriously shouldn’t still be here. It’s going on two, and I’ve been on a couch for hours while drinking Guinness like its water. The last time I stood up to go to the bathroom, I was a little tipsy. I should have stopped then, but I’d finished my fourth and asked for another one when Jensen went to get another round. I really shouldn’t be here, being my usual obnoxiously drunk self, on my first night in Vancouver.
But hell, you only live once, right? Right?
The room is pretty quiet. MXC ended about an hour ago and we decided to just turn off the TV and talk. Right now, Jamie and Kristen are talking about something girl related while Mike is doing impressions much to the amusement of Jensen, Allison, and myself.
The startling sounds of Alien Ant Farm’s Smooth Criminal starts to blast from my rear. Everyone stops and looks at me. “Shit. My ass is ringing.” I dig my phone out. It’s my cousin. I flip the phone up and answer. “What do you want?”
“Wow, you’re brutal when you’re drunk.” I stick my tongue out at Allison.
“What do you mean what do I want? You’re the one that called me.”
“Trust me Mick, if I’d called you, I’d remember it.”
“You’re drunk, aren’t you? How many have you had?”
“Only a couple . . . err . . . five?”
The room bursts out laughing. “Where the hell are you anyway? Isn’t it late in Canada right now?”
“Yeah, I suppose it’s late, but you know me and time when I’ve been drinking. I’ve actually been kidnapped and forced to watch Japanese game shows.”
”Nice, but you still didn’t tell me why you called me.”
I thought for a moment for a possible explanation. “It was my ass. My ass called you.”
There was pure, undiluted silence filtering through the room and my phone for about ten seconds before everyone burst out laughing. In my ear, Mick was still silent. “Honest to god, my ass just wanted to say hello. It’s really sorry though, if it woke you up.”
“It’s all right, I wasn’t sleeping. That whole eight hour time difference definitely works in my favor.”
“Yeah yeah buddy. Just remember that when it’s two in the morning over there.”
“Hey!”
“Payback’s a bitch sweet cuz.”
He’s quiet for another second. “Yeah, I hear ya. I’ve gotta run though. My boss is shooting daggers through his eyes and my health insurance won’t cover multiple stab wounds in the work place. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay.” I hang up without another word and I know that I’m going to have to apologize for all of this later on, but for now, whatever. He knows what I’m like when I get my drink on. He knows too well, I think.
“Your ass?” I look over at Mike, and burst into more laughter. “I think it’s time to get you home.” He stands, draining the rest of his Pepsi and holds out a hand for me. I grab it and yank, standing up. Unfortunately, balance is not one to grace me too often and I end up on the floor instead.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jensen nudges me with his foot.
“No, I’m Kendra. What’s your name?” This time, Mike grabs me under the armpits and hauls me to my feet. The man’s got muscle. Lots of nice muscle too. It’s no mean feat to pick me up. I’m notoriously tall and ‘bulky’ as my sister likes to say. The bitch.
“Now, that’s an admission to being too drunk if I ever heard one.” Kristen stands as well. Sobriety, that’s her M.O. apparently. It’s cool though. At least I won’t make out with her on accident. I hate it when that happens.
The rest of the group stands as well. They all make their ‘Yeah, it’s really late’ spiels and walk to the door with Mike and me. Kristen gives us all a hug and I remember someone saying vaguely that this is her place. Makes sense that she’d walk us to the door and say goodbye.
The ride down in the elevator is significantly less heart stopping and I take the chance to enjoy it for once. Leaning against the back wall, I rest my head on the mirror and catch a glimpse of myself on the other side.
God, I look wasted. My eyes look all blurry and my bun is down at the back of my neck. I reach up and pull the elastic out. Mike watches me and his gaze widens slightly when all two and half feet of brunette glory tumbles down. He pulls a strand away and rubs it between his finger tips.
“Your hair is still wet.”
“I was in the bath when Allison called.” He nods and drops the hair in his hand. I shake my head a bit, trying to get the fly away pieces out of my face.
“You’re hair is really gorgeous. How long have you been growing it?” Allison also pets my hair, only she settles for the parts closest to my scalp.
“Years, I think. Since high school. Let me think for a second.” I do the mental math. It’s 2005, I graduated in 1996. Started growing my hair out in 1993. “Errr, about eleven years I think. I’ve cut it quite a few times, obviously. Or else it’d be around my knees. Gotta get rid of those damn split ends somehow.”
“I hadn’t even realized it was so long. That bun they had you in today hid it really well.”
“Yup. Fine hair, that’s the curse with it. When you put it up, it’s a tiny little bun, but when it’s down it’s flying all over the place. My agent said I might have to cut it though, for the role. Something about a later episode.”
“That’ll be a damned shame. It’s hard to find hair that long anymore.” Jamie gives me a sympathetic smile.
The door dings open and we’re back at the garage. The group says goodbye to each other, and I give Allison a curious look. “We all drove over here to decorate and make your cake.” She gestures to a few vehicles by the van.
“It was good cake. Thanks.”
“Not a problem.” She pulls me into another hug. “We really are glad you’re here. It was getting so predictable on set.”
“Like anything is predictable on our set.” Tom chuckles as he gives me a hug as well. Jamie also gives me one and I hug her back slightly reserved. She was pretty quiet and quiet girls I can never judge.
Jensen is next, just a quick one, before he’s pulling away as well saying, “Well kids, it’s been fun. I’ll see you all in a few hours.”
Allison groans. “Don’t remind me. Eight am has to be the devil’s own hour.”
I turn to Mike, expecting him to give me a hug as well, however he simply starts walking toward his van. I get the idea that I’m going home with him. I laugh in my head. Going home with him. I wish. I give everyone a final wave. “Thanks again. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
I hobble over to the van. For some reason, my foot is throbbing again. That makes absolutely no sense. I glare down at it a second before opening the passenger door and launching myself into the seat.
We’re silent as we make our way out of the parking garage. I really have no idea where we are. I’ve been in the city for about twenty hours. It’s the middle of the night. It makes sense that I’m completely lost, but I don’t like that feeling. I’ve always been so good with directions.
The drive is short, probably seven blocks at the most. We pull to a stop in front of a building and it takes a moment of squinting and looking at the front door for me to realize this is my apartment building. A crazy giggle bubbles out of my throat and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking at Mike almost appalled.
He’s just looking at me, half-smirk on his face. “Home sweet home. Do you need any help getting back up stairs?” God, he’s so hot. Even bald. I’ve never been one for bald guys, but shit. He’s changing my opinion. “I wouldn’t want you to fall down the stairs or something.”
I shake my head, still giggling a little. “No, I should be okay. And, if I don’t make it up the stairs, I’ll just crash in the lounge. Someone will probably complain, but fuck ‘em.”
He nods and reaches over, giving me a hug. The problem with conversion vans is the foot and a half space between the seats. I have to meet him half way or I won’t get my good night hug. So, I lean over, and wrap my arms around him. I store every single thing I notice about him in my mind, for later examination. Read as: when I’m sober.
Somehow, my face finds that part of his skin where his neck meets his shoulder; one of the best parts of the male body. I take a deep breath and a shudder runs down my frame. He pulls back and looks down at me. “Are you all right?”
I swear, his eyes sparkle. Really REALLY sparkle. It’s so cool. I’m about to say no and ask for another hug, but I really have to go to bed. I have to be up in five hours. I have to go to work tomorrow. I have to remember my sexual by-laws.
“Yeah. But, I’m way too drunk, and you’re way too hot. I’ll see ya tomorrow Mike.” He laughs as I stumble my way to the ground and into the building. As the door closes behind me, his laughter is still echoing in my ears.
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. . . And Jesus Brought a Casserole