Oh yeah, I was writing a story, wasn't I...?

*sheepish*

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    Lisa swung the set door open and leaned in on the doorknob, laying the back of her free hand across her forehead dramatically. “I’m ready for my close-up!”
    “You’re always ready for a close-up,” Hugh snarked, walking past her with a cup of coffee. Lisa rolled her eyes and followed him in.
    “Hey.” Lisa caught up with him, and he turned around. Lisa opened her mouth to say something, realized she had nothing to say, and instead reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”
    “Well I don’t want to be responsible for your lips drying out…”
    “Oh, that was not a bad tradeoff,” Lisa said, grinning up at him. “I’d be willing to suffer through a spell of dry lips for a kiss like that.” Suddenly her face grew hot as she realized what she was saying. Hugh was looking down at her with the most intense gaze she’d ever seen, and she had completely forgotten who she was talking to… “Jo’s very lucky.”
    Hugh looked as if she had just slapped him. Lisa swallowed hard and then, without another word, turned on her heel and left him standing in his own misery.
    Because directors sometimes feel the need to be sadists for the sake of being sadists, they filmed the last scene of the episode first, then all the exteriors. This turned out to be lucky for Lisa, because all it required of her was to sit on the couch in Cuddy’s living room drinking whatever she darn well pleased out of a big mug and reading script pages in a big folder that looked vaguely administrative. And she knew full well that she wasn’t going to be reading anything at all.
    What was she thinking? Hugh was married. He had a wife and he had children and he had a life that she knew next to nothing about overseas in London, which was where he felt like he truly belonged anyway, regardless of how much he seemed like he was starting to fit in here.
    What do you really think is going to happen? She asked herself, sitting on the couch and opening the folder. Best case scenario. You get to kiss Hugh day in and day out and do nothing but feel his arms around you… oh God…
    “Lisa?” Greg knocked on the window and she nearly jumped off the couch. “Sorry, just—want to make sure we’ve got a good angle here. Are you good where you are? Because once we get this set you’re not going to move.”
    “Ok.” She looked out the window and locked eyes with Hugh, who was standing on his mark next to the camera, looking through the window. He looked completely bereft, and there was something else in his gaze… what was it? As the two of them stared at each other, Greg moved the cameras around, instructing the operators on where to zoom and when, and not one word was heard by either of the stars. Why did he look like that?
    “I think we’re just about ready,” Greg said finally, and Hugh barely reacted. Lisa didn’t even move. Pain. That was it. His eyes seemed completely dead. He had never looked at her like that before. “Lisa?”
    “What? Sorry. What?” She asked, tearing her eyes away and focusing on her director. “Are we ready?”
    “Yeah. Go ahead and… look anywhere but out the window.” He joked.
    One last glance at Hugh, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He tapped his cane on the ground a few times and looked everywhere but through the window. Lisa sighed and looked down again so the cameras could start rolling, but her mind was a turmoil of emotions. They were actors. The kiss was part of a scene. They were also adults, they were co-workers, they had grown closer with every season they filmed. And as the cameras began to roll, Lisa swore to herself that she was not—absolutely not—going to let that change. No more doing stupid stuff, saying stupid things, flirting with her married friend and then needing to remind herself that he was off limits… absolutely not. She could see now that she had a choice—either a short fling that would end badly for both of them, or a friendship that could possibly stand the test of time, letting them stay close for years on end.
    She chose the latter.