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“Now, I know I’m taking part in this scene while we figure out the camera angles,” said Rip, “but I’m still the Weapons Master on this set. Everything must be done according to my instruction.”
What a bossy-pants.
“First, we practice the scene using the wooden gun replicas provided.” Rip pointed to some fake wooden guns on a table nearby. Well, that was lame. She was ready to use a real gunright now. She was keen to show Rip just how not-bothered by all this she was. Even if it wasn’t strictly true.
“The firearms will not be handed out until the film is rolling,” Rip said, “and they will be removed the moment the director calls cut.”
“Actually, the director is in LA right now,” said Mabel, trying to be helpful, but also trying to contradict Rip a little.
“Mabel, meet Gloria,” said Rip, pointing to a woman who, as it happened, wasnotcarrying a clipboard, and didnotlook stressed. “Gloria is the Assistant Director of this movie.”
Gloria was one of those people who seemed too cool for school. Everything about her looked expensive, and so casual that it had to have been carefully planned. Gloria nodded as though she didn’t have a care in the world.
Rip pointed to a table set up with a case of weaponry in it. “Only I have the key for that case. And there is no ammo on the entire set. Never. Under no circumstances. Got it?” He spoke with such authority that at first it had seemed annoying to Mabel, but now, she was kinda growing to like it. She respected people who were comfortable with being in charge. People like herself.
“Finally,” Rip said, “when the scene is over, nobody moves until I collect the weapons and confirm that they are all cold.”
Rip handed Mabel a protective top, and she felt an involuntary shiver down her spine. This guy knew his stuff. Until now, she had somehow assumed that she knew better than him about everything. Now, she realized, it was reassuring to have him here. Taking control of an area he was an expert in.
As he helped her put on her protective clothing, and positioned her right where he wanted her, she felt her body tingle wherever he touched her. This was new. This was a strange kind of sexy she’d never experienced before. Was she attracted to the idea that they were in public, being watched by so many other people? No. Was she attracted to the idea that he was handing her a gun right now? Maybe…? Was she attracted to the fact the he was closing her fingers over the trigger, showing her exactly what she needed to do when the time was right? Um…
Was she attracted to his deep, commanding voice?
To his muscles?
To his power?
Yes, yes, yes.
They stood there back-to-back now, with the cameras on them. Then, they paced away from one another, before turning, raising their guns, and then…
They aimed right for each other’s hearts, and…
Bullseye.
CHAPTER 5
“And… cut.”
The assistant director, Gloria, seemed happy. The camera operators seemed happy. The Littles, watching and cheering from the sidelines, seemed happy.
Rip’s face was in the dirt. He’d rolled over and pretended to get shot a dozen times in a row now. Each time, Mabel had seemed like she was enjoying herself more and more. Play-acting at killing him over and over again.
The first few times she’d done the scene with him, she’d seemed more pissed at him than ever. Her eyes burned with such ferocious intensity that if she’d had magical powers, he knew she’d have turned him into a pile of ash on the floor.
It seemed wrong to admit that he found her ferocious spirit strangely attractive. She was stronger than all the other Littles here put together. Brave and tough and resilient, capable of fighting her corner. But he could see that all that strength was there to protect her vulnerability. A soft, scared center within her, which she’d placed inside a hard outer shell.
It seemed wrong to admit, too, that her vulnerability intrigued him. He wondered how it might feel to take a hammer to that outer shell, to crack away her barriers and see what was left underneath.
Mabel’s bravado died down a little after the first few takes. Seeing thatshehad the power in the scene, each and every time they played it through, seemed to reassure her. She played the role with more softness as time went on. More femininity. She played with her hair and giggled between takes. She looked almost apologetic as her gun pretend-fired and Rip hit the floor for the tenth time in a row.
Rip on the other hand, played up his grit. The pain of being hit. The over-the-top kineticism of his tumble and roll. He couldn’t help but play up to the situation, to do as good of a job as he could. He wanted to impress Mabel, and it was driving him nuts.
By the time that Gloria said it was a wrap, and they’d gotten everything they needed from the rehearsal, Rip felt like a caged animal ready to be set free. He needed to get out of here. Mabel was doing something to him. Her burning intensity. Her sweet vulnerability. She was a tangle of contradictions, and that meant she was dangerous. She was drawing him farther in and pushing him farther away all at once. You couldn’t trust people like that. Rip liked to know where he stood at all times. Otherwise, it was like carrying a gun without the safety on.
He took Mabel’s firearm from her and checked it alongside his own, then yelled out that the weapons were cold. He performed the necessary safety checks, then locked the guns away.
“A good day’s work,” Gloria told the production crew. “I say we celebrate at The Den with a few drinks. Rip and Mabel, will you join us?”
