cryptictac

shutterbug_12

The table is scattered with Styrofoam coffee cups, dark sunglasses, water bottles, stack upon stack of annotated script pages, and a Tupperware container missing its lid. Inside, it holds tomatoes, squares of white cheese, and three types of lettuce. An olive or three might be hiding in its cool depths.

Hugh is not eyeing that salad. He is listening to the table read like he should, the overview of the next story arc, the way Katie is reading the stage directions in an even monotone. He is not paying attention to the fact that someone forgot to crank the AC, that LA in August is disgustingly hot, that a room filled with fifteen or so bodies only exacerbates the way his shirt has begun to stick to his shoulder blades and the small of his back.

Lisa brushes his arm as she reaches for her salad and stabs a red tomato with a plastic fork. Hugh does not make this pitiful little sigh and Lisa's eyes do not gleam mischievously as she pops the tomato in her mouth.

They've been through this before. Hugh did not share his water so Lisa will not share her lunch. It's dreadfully unfair, actually. He has a cold. There are germs to consider.

He leans into her so that their voices will not carry. His forearm brushes against the bare skin of her shoulder as he muffles his words into his knuckles. "New studies have found that vegetables are actually bad for you."

Lisa grins and must tuck her chin so that her smile doesn't light up the room. "I thought you knew tomatoes are fruits." She spears another one and holds it between them, indecisive between offering it and keeping it for herself.

"Well, yes, true, but closely related to vegetables. It might do best to be wary."

She laughs softly, in the way girls laugh that has always gotten to him, even when they stopped being girls and he was old enough to no longer let it affect him. Hugh smiles behind his fist, and tilts his head away from the others in the room so only Lisa can see. He has a reputation to uphold, of course; Robert might pull ahead in their bet if Hugh looks too cheery this early during shooting.

The fork wavers in the air as Lisa sizes him and his desperation up. "You could just ask if you're that hungry."

"But that would be the sensible thing to do," Hugh counters and Lisa shakes her head, that bright, wide smile growing all the brighter. Her hair tangles over his shoulder, sticks a bit to the side of his neck.

Shifting the Tupperware over to him, her face suddenly goes very serious. "You owe me a water."

Hugh's about to admit to feeling rightfully abashed for his earlier behaviour, but then David is calling them to attention, exasperated without being fond. "Time to work on House, okay guys, not the Hugh and Lisa Show."

Lisa giggles and Hugh blushes, and he quickly eats the tomato to save himself the embarrassment of apologising for the next five minutes.