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"All The While"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. A/N: For Maeve and Tina - and me - AND any other 3x5xM fans out there. Probably going to be a bit late for Valentine's Day but I'm going to try! A/N2: Went ahead and decided the show they were working on is The Pillowman because I love it. If you aren't familiar with the play, and you like dark, fucked up stories, I suggest you go out and get a copy. It reads really well - you don't have to see it to love it. A/N3: Thank you, always, always Ro, for beta reading! Warnings: language, smut Pairings: 3x5xM, 5xM, 6x2
"All The While" "...So you want cue 47 called after he comes onstage?" The question caught Wufei between bites, and he chewed furiously for a moment before nodding. "Yes - just as he gets to the downstage archway, that's when I want the light to change," he explained to the stage manager, Duo. "Okay, gotcha…" Duo bit down on the corner of his lip as he erased the note he had previously made in his script and replaced it with Wufei's new call. "Alright… let's see… There was something in Act 2 you wanted to change also…" Duo started flipping through his script, and Wufei took the opportunity to shovel a few more bites of salad into his mouth. It was the night of the final dress rehearsal for The Pillowman, and Wufei had had to grab a salad from a vendor at Penn Station as he changed trains from New Jersey to the subway to get to the hole in the wall off-Broadway theatre where the show was being produced. He had had a production meeting for another show, and as a result, he had arrived cranky, hungry, and more than a little stressed out. But, at least, on time. He had asked Duo to come in early so they could go over the lighting cues and make a few adjustments, and the stage manager had rolled his eyes, muttered something about 'lighting designers who need to get laid more', but agreed to it. "Oh, yeah, right here - you told me you wanted cue 84 called when the projection fades, but Meilan wants it called before, and-" Wufei rolled his eyes. "Meilan isn't the lighting designer," he pointed out. "No, but she's the scenic designer and the projections designer," a loud, irritated female voice called out from backstage. Wufei sighed and looked up and, sure enough, Meilan walked onstage, glaring out into the dark seats and up to the booth where Duo and Wufei were huddled over the prompt book. "Fine. Why do you want it called before the projections fade?" Meilan gave an irritated huff, as if it should be obvious why she wanted it done her way, and Wufei rolled his eyes. "If you call it before they fade, it creates a transition back into the world - if you wait and do it after they fade, it chops the moment off and it's too abrupt. We need to slowly come back to the interrogation room - the projected scenes are the escape. You can't fuck with that." Wufei wanted to argue with her, wanted to stick to his original intention because he thought it looked crisper but… But she was right. As she too-often was. "Fine," Wufei grumbled to Duo, "change it." Wisely, Duo remained silent, but the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. This was the fifth show in the last two years that the three of them had worked together on, so Duo was no doubt used to the peculiar relationship Wufei and Meilan had by now. Of course, Wufei and Meilan had been working together for even longer. They had first met in grad school, six years ago, and had gotten into a near shouting match within fifteen minutes of being introduced. For the three years it took to earn their MFAs, Wufei and Meilan had been assigned to work together more often than not - to the point that it became a running joke for the other designers and stage managers to bring popcorn to the early production meetings on each new production so they could enjoy the "show" of Wufei and Meilan hashing things out. And while they tended to argue a lot, they also, once they were past the majority of their arguments, managed to work together to create stunning designs. For a year, after graduation, Wufei had worked in London, assisting renown designers and trying his best to be noticed for more than his skills at updating paperwork and ability to function without sleep. Eventually, however, he had moved to New York City, and the very first show he booked as a lighting designer in his own right had also been with Meilan as the scenic designer. "Well, that's all I had - do you want to talk through anything else, or do you mind if I go run over a few notes with Zechs?" Wufei arched an eyebrow. Zechs Merquise, the director for the show, had proven to be as notoriously narcissistic and brilliant as his reputation had suggested. Wufei had been surprised, however, by the way that Zechs treated Duo - with respect, even courtesy. It was an unfortunately rare thing for directors to really appreciate their stage managers, and Wufei had been fully prepared to revise his opinion of Zechs as an arrogant- if genius - ass. Until three nights ago, when he had stayed late to refocus and re-patch a few of the lights and walked in on Duo and Zechs in the green room. Thankfully, neither man had noticed Wufei, and Wufei had fled the scene, trying in vain to scrub the mental image of Duo on his knees in front of Zechs, sucking his cock while Zechs looked down at him with something very close to affection on his face. "Any notes I should know about?" Wufei asked. Duo's face turned red, and Wufei had to smirk. "Er, uh, no. Just a few… transition things and… producer notes…" "Right." Duo, still flushed, slammed his prompt book closed and booked it out of the booth. Wufei lingered, however, pulling up a few of the cues as he finished off his salad and tweaking the light levels. While he worked, Meilan continued to fuss with the set, using a knife to chip away some of the paint on the walls, distressing the already thoroughly depressing interrogation room even more. She was wearing her standard work attire of paint-spattered leggings and sweatshirt that was easily three sizes too large, her hair pulled up into a bun with more than a few strands escaping to frame her face. Wufei realized he was spending more time staring at her than he was eating or working, and he sighed and forced himself to focus. In truth, though, Wufei was just tweaking things at this point. The show could have opened tonight - hell, it could have opened last night. The entire technical staff had been on the same page and, bizarrely, ahead of schedule for weeks now. It wasn't all that often that Wufei found himself in the position of having to sit through a dress rehearsal and knowing full well that, unless Duo planned to fall asleep at the light board, he would have no notes to give, nothing to fix, nothing to do. He was fairly certain Meilan was in the same position - she seemed to be trying to find something to fix, when, in reality, the set was as close to perfect as it could be. She always impressed him, but this set, in particular, was a testament to her talent. He had been relieved when he had learned she would be the set designer - he cared too much about this show to want to work with a designer he didn't respect and trust implicitly. And, after two weeks of snarky emails, three meetings over coffee between just them and another two meetings with the director, Meilan and Wufei had figured out the world of the play, and Wufei knew this show was going to be one that he looked back on and judged all others against. By the time he finished his salad and finished stepping through every cue in the show, Duo returned to the booth, his hair a little mussed but otherwise there was no evidence that he and Zechs had been going over notes. Wufei shouldn't say anything… but it was too difficult not to. "Did he get you a Valentine card?" Duo looked at him in confusion. "What?" "Zechs. Did he give you a Valentine?" "No? Why… why would he?" Wufei arched an eyebrow. "Maybe because you've been fucking him for two months?" It was a guess - Wufei had just walked in on them the one time, but after that, he had thought back to the interactions between Duo and Zechs, tried to figure out just when their relationship moved past a strictly professional level. He was fairly confident it had to have been after the very first meeting - when Zechs had sneered at Duo's flippant attitude and made a handful of snarky comments. By the next day, however, when the production team met the cast and they had a read thru of the play, Zechs hadn't been at all snarky towards Duo and had, in fact, cast several lingering looks in his direction. Duo cheeks flushed, and Wufei wondered if he was going to try to deny it. "We aren't twelve. Why the fuck would he get me a Valentine?" Duo finally muttered. "'S'not like you got one for Mei, did you?" Wufei scoffed. "Meilan and I aren't dating." "Neither are Zechs and I. Like you said, we've just been fucking for two months. You and Mei, though…" "What?" Duo shrugged. "Nothing. Just, I mean… how many times has she slept over at your place in the last month?" Wufei shrugged one shoulder, refusing to feel defensive. "A few. The MTA is a pain in the ass late at night, and it just makes sense for her to stay over." "Uh huh. And after these little sleepovers… how often do you two have breakfast together the next morning?" Wufei scowled at him. "What does that have to do with anything?" Duo smirked. "Nothing, nothing. That's just normal dating stuff. No need to get your panties in a twist." Wufei rolled his eyes. "We are not dating." "You know, I feel like we've had this conversation before… like… the last show we all worked on together? And the one before that? And the one before that?" Wufei sighed. It was true - he and Duo had been having this argument for two years now. But, as Wufei had already said, they weren't dating. Meilan didn't do relationships - that's what she had said to him the opening night of their first show in grad school, when she had pushed him into the bathroom at the bar hosting the cast party and yanked down his trousers and shoved a condom into his hand. She didn't have time for them, didn't have the patience to deal with the emotional pitfalls of sharing her life with someone else. Wufei felt exactly the same - which explained why the three relationships he had had in the last five years had all ended after only a few months of dating, the longest only lasting six months. He and Meilan seemed to always find their way to each other - always during the shows they designed together, and it had become as familiar and expected a part of the design process as their inevitable arguments and the satisfying final product. It was, if Wufei was honest with himself, both the best and worst part of working with her. It was certainly the worst part of tech week. She almost always spent tech weeks at his apartment in Manhattan, her own in Brooklyn just far enough away that they managed to convince each other that she should stay over. She would come over tonight, and tomorrow night after the opening night party - and then she would go back to Brooklyn and float out of his life until work brought them together again. "We aren't dating," he repeated to Duo before standing up. He tossed his empty salad container into the trash and grabbed his bag. He walked out of the booth, resolutely ignoring Duo's snort of amused disagreement. To get into the theatre itself, he had to go through the main lobby of the theatre, and as he cut through, he bumped into someone. An unfamiliar someone. A tall, sculpted, smirking someone with a fall of auburn hair and bright green eyes and a chiseled jawline. Wufei stared. "Hey, I'm Trowa. Trowa Barton." "Hi." The man was… unfairly gorgeous, somehow managing to look good even bundled up in what looked like layers of sweaters, a peacoat, scarf and beanie. Trowa's lips twitched. "I'm here to photograph the show? Rey asked me to be here fifteen minutes before it started." "Oh. Oh. Right." Wufei managed to pull himself together. Rey, or Relena Darlian, was the founding artistic director of the theatre company producing the play. Despite her youth - or maybe, Wufei suspected, because of it - Relena have proven time and time again that not only was she an excellent producer, but a great director. She also tended to accumulate talented, good-looking friends. Or boyfriends. Wufei looked over Trowa again. Lucky Relena. "Is she here?" Trowa prompted. Feeling like an idiot, a feeling Wufei despised more than almost any other, Wufei forced himself to focus. "She's running a few minutes late. The MTA is…" "A fucking nightmare," Trowa muttered, and nodded. "That's fine. Can you show me the theatre, and I can start setting up." Trowa adjusted the two bags cross-strapped on his body, and Wufei looked at them. It always amused him when professional photographers showed up for photo calls - the good ones came looking like they had prepared to photograph a war zone. Trowa, at least based on appearances, was one of the good ones. "Yeah, no problem." Wufei held open the door to the theatre and gestured Trowa inside. "Thanks. I didn't catch your name?" Trowa was smirking again as he walked into the dark theatre and Wufei followed him. "Wufei Chang. I'm the lighting designer." Trowa set his bags down on a chair near the front of the stage and began stripping out of his many layers of clothing. Duo had turned on the house lights, giving the audience a warm glow, and Wufei tried very hard not to think about how the lights made Trowa's face look like it belonged in a Rembrandt painting. He had always loved Rembrandt. Trowa removed four sweaters. Four. As he pulled off the last one, the hem of his shirt got caught and came up as well, revealing Trowa's defined abs, some kind of wheel tattoo over his heart and the glint of metal piercings through each nipple. Wufei's mouth went totally dry, and it was a supreme effort to look away as Trowa jerked his shirt back down and finished removing the sweater. When Wufei looked away, however, his gaze landed squarely on Meilan, still onstage, looking back at Wufei with a smirk and an arched eyebrow. Wufei felt himself blushing. Bad enough to get caught staring at Trowa's body. But to be caught by Meilan, of all people, would mean merciless teasing. Trowa ran a hand through his hair, tossing the beanie onto the pile of clothes, and turned to look at the set. "Wow." He was smirking again, eyes roving over the dark walls, and Wufei felt himself mirroring the expression. It always felt good to have an outsider appreciate their work - and Meilan's scenery deserved all of the wows in the world, in Wufei's mind. "Meilan is the scenic designer," Wufei said, gesturing to her. Meilan wiped her hands off on her leggings and approached the edge of the stage. She jumped down and walked over to them, holding her hand out to Trowa. "And projections designer," she added with a smirk. "Trowa - photographer." The tall man shook her hand, his own completely engulfing hers. The top of Meilan's head only came up to the base of Trowa's neck, and even in her oversized sweater, Meilin looked incredibly small beside the other man. "It looks gorgeous," Trowa said after he let go of Meilan's hand. He looked over his shoulder, smirking at Wufei again. "The lights too." It was just a preshow look - a dim blue-gray wash with filtered shadows drifting across the stage in lazy spirals - but it set the mood, introduced the audience to a grim, hopeless world as they walked in and took their seats. Or, at least, it would, starting tomorrow night with the first preview. Tonight, the only people watching the four-person show would be the designers, director, producer, publicist and, now, the photographer. Although Trowa would do less watching and probably more climbing through the audience and snapping photographs. "Thanks." Meilan smirked again, that knowing look that she had perfected years ago. The look that made Wufei want to either pick a fight or get her naked. Or both. Very often both. "Sorry! Sorry I'm late!" Relena called out as she rushed into the theatre, unwrapping a scarf from around her neck, her heels clacking on the ancient wooden floor. Trowa turned to look at her, his smirk turning into a genuine smile, and Wufei felt a thread of jealousy. Even though he had assumed they were a couple. "Doesn't matter to me - you're paying me by the hour regardless of whether or not you're here." Relena rolled her eyes, but she stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek, Trowa leaning down to accommodate her. That was… interesting. Not the greeting Wufei would have expected between them. Certainly not the greeting he had seen her exchange with other men she had dated. "I see you've met two of our brilliant designers," Relena turned her bright smile to Meilan and Wufei. "I was wondering…" Trowa trailed off as he fiddled with the lenses of his camera. "Yes?" "Do you mind if I take some candid shots - not just of the play, but of them," Trowa gestured to Wufei and Meilan, and made a vague gesture towards the booth at the back of the theatre. "My editor keeps whining about not having any stock photos of technicians and designers. If that's okay with all of you?" "Your editor?" Meilan asked. Trowa nodded. "I do some freelance work for Playbill - reviews and photographs, of course." "Are you reviewing our show?" Wufei had to ask, wondering how the hell Trowa would be able to take photographs and focus on the show enough to write a decent review. Trowa smirked. "Yeah, but not tonight. I'll come back tomorrow night for the preview." Wufei nodded, satisfied and relieved. Meilan rolled her eyes at him. It was uncanny, how clearly she could follow along with his thought process sometimes. "I don't mind if they don't," Relena said, looking again at Wufei and Meilan. Meilan shrugged. "I don't care." "Neither do I," Wufei said, though he felt a little anxious at the prospect of having Trowa take photographs of him. "Great. I've got some disclosure papers somewhere in my bag…" He pulled out a stack of slightly crumpled papers and gave Relena a rueful look. She rolled her eyes, but accepted them and tried to smooth them out. "I'll make copies and pass them around," she said, shaking her head as she failed to unwrinkle one of the corners. "Sorry - and thanks." "No, it's fine." Relena reached over and squeezed Trowa's shoulder. "And thank you for doing this tonight. I know it's Valentine's Day and you probably had plans with-" "No," Trowa cut her off, his voice a little chilly. "No plans." "You and-" "We broke up last week." Trowa looked away, snapping a lens into place on his camera. "Oh, Trowa! I had no idea! What-" Trowa looked over at Relena, giving her a small, twisted smile. "He dumped me on my birthday. So, considering that my other options tonight were to stay at home with my cat and get drunk or go out to a bar, get drunk and go home with some stranger, I'd much rather be here, getting paid to do something I enjoy." Trowa seemed completely unconcerned that he had an audience to his confession - nor did he seem to care what Meilan and Wufei might think of him or what he said. Relena's brows drew together in a sympathetic frown, but when she reached out again, he gently shrugged her off. "I'm going to get some test shots in before the run starts - thanks for dealing with those forms." He walked away, and ~ * ~ |
