jensen/jess suethor, paris, part two
May. 2nd, 2009 02:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupthe continuing weekend romp of Jess Suethor and Jensen Ackles: A Mary Sue in Paris.
Part 2:
Dinner is nothing like what he’s come to expect. They're sitting in the back corner of Chez Paul, secluded and private. Jess is actually eating a meal, unlike most women he's had out to dinner. And they're talking. Which is both a relief and scarier than he’s used to. Jensen can’t believe his luck and tries not to jinx it. If he keeps her talking, he’s sure that he’ll finally relax and stop assuming that she’s a crazed fan waiting to happen.
Not that she isn’t one of his fans. She snorts at his Days of Our Lives work and says she only got introduced to him through Dark Angel. On the one hand, that’s a little relief. It’s not that he’s not fond of Eric Brady as a character. He’s just grown beyond that… time in his life. On the other hand, he’s not sure he likes being identified by the twin and evil twin role he had on Dark Angel.
She waves off his protests with her fork, gesturing emptily at the air. “Everyone has the evil twin thing going on. It’s mandatory on every show so that the actor can show his range.” She shrugs. “That’s not to say that I don’t totally understand that you should be weighed on other parts you’ve played. And that there’s a limit to how much variety you get when you’re hired for television.”
He tilts his head, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”
She blinks at him, setting her silverware down on the table before adjusting her posture and leaning into him from her seat. “Television is awesome on certain levels, you know? It’s a regular gig, beautiful to get your face out there and you develop a decent fan base. Sometimes they’re crazy, you know? But once you have a show on the air, your audience keeps you. It’s not like films or theatre, where one bad performance can kill a career.”
He nods. “I’ve done all three, so I’ll agree with you there.”
Jess smiles in acknowledgement. “Right. But on the other hand, when you get a role on TV, the likelihood of being typecast soars. You left soap operas, but you ended up in sci-fi and horror. Wide fan base, but kind of limiting. And then you’re prey to the whims of promotion, timeslots, and how your writers fare week to week. If a network doesn’t want you, they can drop you.” She relaxes back in her chair a little. “I’m not saying leave TV, or even leave the genre of work you do. I wouldn’t presume. I’m just saying that it’s easier to be stuck in a certain kind of role all the time with TV. And when you give interviews, you should hear how completely enthralled you are with cinematography. You talk about lenses and film like you were born to it. You’d probably rock as a director.”
“You sound like you’ve thought that out,” he says in wonder, unsure whether he’s upset by her bald statements, or whether he really believes that they’re true. “I’ve always been in television,” he murmurs, poking gently at his steak.
She glances up through her eyelashes, and sees how she’s stepped over the line in criticizing his work and smoothly changes the subject and focus to herself and the city.
Before he realizes it, they’re sitting at the table with a goodly amount of wine gone from the bottle between them and the restaurant stacking chairs up around them. He sheepishly leaves a ridiculously large tip as the wait staff lets them out with smiles on their tired faces, and Jess’ breathy laugh does something to Jensen that has him speaking before he’s thought it through. “Stay the night with me, Jess.”
She slyly cuts her eyes at him. “Why sir, what kind of girl do you take me for?” she drawls, lazy smirk curling across her face. He blushes and opens his mouth to make some kind of apology, maybe even end the night there, when she links arms with him. “You haven’t even tried to kiss me yet.” She stops him and turns to stand in front of him, canted toward him coyly as he grasps failingly at the careening conversation. “You don’t mean to tell me that I have to be bold and take that first move. Southern girls don’t really do that, Jensen.”
He shuts her up. Easily, in point of fact. All the way to his hotel room, with his lips against hers.
Part 2:
Dinner is nothing like what he’s come to expect. They're sitting in the back corner of Chez Paul, secluded and private. Jess is actually eating a meal, unlike most women he's had out to dinner. And they're talking. Which is both a relief and scarier than he’s used to. Jensen can’t believe his luck and tries not to jinx it. If he keeps her talking, he’s sure that he’ll finally relax and stop assuming that she’s a crazed fan waiting to happen.
Not that she isn’t one of his fans. She snorts at his Days of Our Lives work and says she only got introduced to him through Dark Angel. On the one hand, that’s a little relief. It’s not that he’s not fond of Eric Brady as a character. He’s just grown beyond that… time in his life. On the other hand, he’s not sure he likes being identified by the twin and evil twin role he had on Dark Angel.
She waves off his protests with her fork, gesturing emptily at the air. “Everyone has the evil twin thing going on. It’s mandatory on every show so that the actor can show his range.” She shrugs. “That’s not to say that I don’t totally understand that you should be weighed on other parts you’ve played. And that there’s a limit to how much variety you get when you’re hired for television.”
He tilts his head, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”
She blinks at him, setting her silverware down on the table before adjusting her posture and leaning into him from her seat. “Television is awesome on certain levels, you know? It’s a regular gig, beautiful to get your face out there and you develop a decent fan base. Sometimes they’re crazy, you know? But once you have a show on the air, your audience keeps you. It’s not like films or theatre, where one bad performance can kill a career.”
He nods. “I’ve done all three, so I’ll agree with you there.”
Jess smiles in acknowledgement. “Right. But on the other hand, when you get a role on TV, the likelihood of being typecast soars. You left soap operas, but you ended up in sci-fi and horror. Wide fan base, but kind of limiting. And then you’re prey to the whims of promotion, timeslots, and how your writers fare week to week. If a network doesn’t want you, they can drop you.” She relaxes back in her chair a little. “I’m not saying leave TV, or even leave the genre of work you do. I wouldn’t presume. I’m just saying that it’s easier to be stuck in a certain kind of role all the time with TV. And when you give interviews, you should hear how completely enthralled you are with cinematography. You talk about lenses and film like you were born to it. You’d probably rock as a director.”
“You sound like you’ve thought that out,” he says in wonder, unsure whether he’s upset by her bald statements, or whether he really believes that they’re true. “I’ve always been in television,” he murmurs, poking gently at his steak.
She glances up through her eyelashes, and sees how she’s stepped over the line in criticizing his work and smoothly changes the subject and focus to herself and the city.
Before he realizes it, they’re sitting at the table with a goodly amount of wine gone from the bottle between them and the restaurant stacking chairs up around them. He sheepishly leaves a ridiculously large tip as the wait staff lets them out with smiles on their tired faces, and Jess’ breathy laugh does something to Jensen that has him speaking before he’s thought it through. “Stay the night with me, Jess.”
She slyly cuts her eyes at him. “Why sir, what kind of girl do you take me for?” she drawls, lazy smirk curling across her face. He blushes and opens his mouth to make some kind of apology, maybe even end the night there, when she links arms with him. “You haven’t even tried to kiss me yet.” She stops him and turns to stand in front of him, canted toward him coyly as he grasps failingly at the careening conversation. “You don’t mean to tell me that I have to be bold and take that first move. Southern girls don’t really do that, Jensen.”
He shuts her up. Easily, in point of fact. All the way to his hotel room, with his lips against hers.
