Something Like Dog Poo

Fandom: My Big Birkett: The Sweet, Terrible, Glorious Year I Truly, Completely Lost It by Lisa Shanahan
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Rating: K+
Characters: Gemma Stone and Raven De Head
Word Count: 1,186
Summary: Missing scene in which Gemma helps Raven clean off his makeup after the final performance of The Tempest.

Note 1: I really enjoyed this book and was disappointed to find that there was no fanfic for it on this site. Then one night the mood struck me and I had to go with it.
Note 2: Remember when Mum told Gemma, "The moment that something like the dog poo happens to you and you don't care, you'll know you've found 'the one'"? As I was writing this, I realised that Raven passed the dog poo test when Gemma stayed late after the play to help him clean up. And the book kind of skips over it and doesn't have Gemma realise that the dog poo test's been passed! Oh well. We omniscient readers know it, anyway.
Note 3: This is one of the rare times you will see me using first person narrative.

Disclaimer: This one-shot is based on the book by Lisa Shanahan. I am not affiliated in any way with Lisa Shanahan, Allen & Unwin, Delacorte Press, or Random House, Inc.

The backstage area was starting to empty as people trickled out, flowers in hand. "Don't forget, everyone!" announced Mrs Highgate. "You're all invited to the after party at Nick's house, courtesy of Mr and Mrs Lloyd!"

I wiped the last of the cold cream off my face and stood up. "Here," I said, taking the chair by its back and swivelling it toward Raven. "Let's try to get that gloop off your face."

He put a hand on the chair's back, next to mine. "You should go," he said. "I don't want you to miss the party."

"Sit down, Raven," I said. "I don't want you to miss the party either. If you try to take all that off by yourself, you'll be here all night!"

He grinned and sat down. "It is a chore to get off." He reached for the cold cream and began slathering it on. "You were really good tonight. All the nights, actually."

I smiled. "Thanks. So were you." He shrugged, not letting my words sink in. "I really mean it, Raven. You could make this into a career."

He looked up at me in the mirror, face white with cream. "Nah," he said. "It takes too long to take off this bloody makeup. I'd never have any free time."

"You really want to shrug off fame and fans for a reason like that?" I asked, watching him wipe off the cream. I pointed under his left ear. "You missed a spot."

"Fans?" Raven asked, raising an eyebrow as he wiped under his ear.

"Yeah. Jody said the girls in the audience were all swooning over you," I answered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I didn't know why. I was only talking to Raven. I'd just spoken in front of dozens of people!

"Really," he said, giving me a strange look. "Is Caliban the type of bloke girls go for?"

I shrugged. "Well, that's what Jody said, anyway."

Raven surveyed himself in the mirror and sighed as he reached for the cold cream again. I came around on his left side and sat down on the counter, facing him. I turned my head to read the labels on the bottles on the counter. There had to be something here that would help Raven get his makeup off faster. "What play do you think Mrs Langton and Mrs Highgate will do next?"

"I don't know." He tossed his dirty cloth onto the counter before reaching for a new one.

"Maybe something more modern?"

Raven shrugged. "They seem pretty into older stuff to me."

"I guess." I picked up a bottle and a clean cloth. "Mind if I do your arm while you do your face?"

He stopped wiping his face and looked at me. "You don't have to stay, Gemma."

"I know. I want to."

"All right." He went back to wiping his face. I squirted some of the bottle's contents into my hand and smeared it onto his forearm. "So," Raven said, "are you going to go out for theatre again?"

"Maybe." I frowned at the stubborn paint I was working on. "I'm thinking about it. It's been fun, but I don't know if I want to do it again."

"Why?"

"Well, it's just that when you're acting, you have to become the person you're playing," I said, scrubbing at Raven's arm. I was sure that underneath all that blue, his skin was turning red, but he didn't complain. "Mrs Langton had me journaling as Miranda and everything. It takes a lot out of you, being another person. When I get to put it aside, it feels such a relief to just be myself again."

He nodded. "I guess I know what you mean." There was a pause. "I didn't know you were writing stuff as Miranda."

"Yeah. Mrs Langton wanted me to try it after my terrible acting the first few weeks. She said I wasn't seeing Miranda through her own eyes."

"So it worked?"

"Yeah, it did. I actually hated Miranda until I did it, so it was good advice."

"You hated Miranda?" Raven asked, twisting his head to glance at me.

I frowned. I hadn't meant to tell him that, because then I'd have to explain why. I didn't really know how that conversation would go. "Yeah."

"Why?" he asked, as I finished up his forearm and moved down to his lower arm. I had to kneel next to him on the floor to get at it properly.

"Well, because she was so self-righteous. And she was so horrible to you."

Raven's face was beginning to be visible beneath the blue paint. "Me?"

"Well, to Caliban. And I just hated having anything to do with that."

He stopped scrubbing at his face and looked down at me. "Why?"

I looked down at the floor. The fluorescent light above the counter crackled and cast shifting patterns of shadow on the lino. "Gemma?" Raven asked.

"Because…because it's not true," I said. "You aren't an 'abhorred slave, which any print of goodness will not take, being capable of all ill.'" I concentrated on the paint lodged between his knuckle lines instead of looking at his face.

"They're just lines in a play," said Raven.

"Yeah, I know. But sometimes…" I sighed. "I just… I just didn't like them being said to you. They're awful words. You deserve better." Gathering my courage, I stopped scrubbing his knuckles and looked up at his face.

"Gemma, it was all right," Raven said, watching me carefully. "But thanks anyway." He smiled, and his dimples formed two blue craters. "You're a good friend, you know that?"

I returned his smile, suddenly feeling warm inside. "The sequins aren't coming off on your forehead," I told him.

He sighed in exasperation, and the craters disappeared. "I know."

I stood up. "Here, let me try."

Raven tilted his head back, and I squirted my lotion directly on his forehead before scrubbing religiously. The sequins were just beginning to peel away when Raven protested. "Ow!"

"No pain, no gain," I spouted to him, but I eased up on the rubbing. "See, it's coming off!"

"With the rest of my forehead, too," he grumbled.

"Well, you could always just go to the party like this."

"No," he said, "I'd rather not."

There was a lull in which all that could be heard was the swipe of the cloth clawing at the sequins at Raven's hairline.

"Hey," I said finally. "Thanks again for the necklace. It's beautiful."

Raven's eyes darted to where the shell hung around my neck. "Good. It reminded me of you."

I thought of how he might have come by it. Did he go out looking for it, or did he just happen to come upon it and think of me? I didn't feel comfortable asking. I imagined him with Robin and Sparrow on the beach, looking for the perfect shell. Raven had surprised me with his choice, really. The necklace was modest, symmetrical and lovely—exactly the type of jewellery I would have chosen for myself. My eyes found Raven's, blue and contemplative, and I smiled. "Well, I love it."