Author's Note: Just a fun little one-shot; I won't be around for the next week, but after that I'll have a few things.

Pairings Note: Slight Freddie/Sam and Freddie/Carly, if you look hard.

Warnings: No language or anything explicit

Movie Magic

"Bom-chic-a-wow-wow!"

"Looking good, Freddie," another random co-worker says. Her eyes linger on indecent places.

Her friend pulls her eyes up to Freddie's face as she adds eagerly, "Very good."

Freddie Benson grins smugly, replying with a quick "thanks", careful not to return the lingering looks.

He's not quite used to all this attention, but he's not going to let it go to his head or lead anyone on. He weaves through the crowded movie set, waving to some people, exchanging short greetings with others, and awkwardly accepting more compliments on his appearance. They've only been shooting for a week, only prep work and endless brainstorming meetings, so Freddie's been too exhausted to put any effort into how he looked. He wore sweatpants and loose pants and unflattering AV-convention shirts from his teenage years. Today, however, is the first official day of shooting. To celebrate, Freddie's wearing his favorite turquoise polo and fitted jeans. He's last girlfriend had loved the outfit on him, and the attention Freddie is receiving as he walks around is slowly convincing him that she'd been right.

But he's got a job to do, so Freddie ignores all the looks and whispered comments that follow him and heads over to the tech booth. He's the head tech for this movie. His underlings have jokingly dubbed him 'the Overlord' despite Freddie's protest. Most of the other techs played far too much Battlecraft as kids, which is where Freddie thinks they got the name from. He doesn't mind being the Overlord much, since he recognizes it as a title of endearment and respect, but it earns odd looks from the camera people and stunt doubles. Freddie still gets mildly embarrassed by what people think; it's not as bad as when he was a kid, but he'll avoid doing things in public if he thinks it'll earn him strange looks and judgment. Freddie likes being in his comfort zone. The tech booth is his safest place, because he knows how to run everything and what he's doing and he's good at it. He's worked hard to get here, to be the best in the business, and Freddie is proud.

"Hey, Overlord," one of Freddie's co-workers greets him as he climbs into the tech booth. The tech booth is as big as a college lecture room, and there are computers everywhere. The monitors each show what a different camera is recording, except for two large computers in the middle of the room. These two computers have monitors that rival a middle-class man's prized football TV. Three people sit in front of one of the big computers, watching the monitor avidly. It shows the main feed—aka it's the view point their most likely to use in the final cut of the movie. The computer next to that one is the control computer. It's the most important computer in the room, because it runs all the programs and oversees all the other computers. It makes sure everything runs smoothly and that nothing deviates from the path. It's also Freddie's responsibility and baby.

He sits down at the lone swivel chair in front of The Computer and spins around to observe the room. "What's going on, guys?" he asks, smiling at them all fondly. The majority of the faces that smile back at him are familiar. Freddie's gathered a following of workers that he trusts and who trust him. He's assembled his own crew of techs that go with him to any of his jobs. Freddie is embarrassed because he's got people clambering to get into his group; it's no secret that Freddie, at the young age of twenty-five, has connections to rival even the veteran techs. Freddie makes sure that everyone in his little group of loyal workers gets a good promotion and job. He's always sad to see them leave, but he knows they can't work for him forever.

"We're scheduled to start shooting in two minutes," Jonah answers immediately. He's a tall, thin guy with brown super curly hair. He and Freddie have been working together for almost two years. Freddie likes Jonah. The guy's funny and has an unhealthy knowledge of old Hollywood movies. Jonah's got an annoying habit of getting gushy and obsessive over whatever girl he's dating at them moment; Freddie wouldn't mind but it distracts Jonah from his work a lot. Luckily, right now Jonah's in recovery after being dumped by his last girlfriend. "But there's a little…um, problem, Freddie," Jonah adds hesitantly.

Freddie frowns. He looks around and suddenly no one's meetings his gaze. Their eyes slide to the floor, all his busy worker bees, and Freddie's stomach clenches uneasily. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he gathers his strength. "Alright," he manages, opening his eyes warily, "what is it?" Freddie is prepared to deal with one of the actors refusing to be shot on a certain kind of HD camera, or a cameraman untrained to shoot in a specific style, or that the director's gone on rampage and decided to fire everyone for some crazy reason.

However, Freddie is not prepared to deal with what Gibby, a minor actor who is dating Sharon, one of Freddie's best clip editors, states bluntly, "Shane walked."

It echoes around the deathly silent tech room. Freddie doesn't want to believe it. It takes a minute to fully sink in. And when it does, Freddie is beyond shock. He's angry and worried and pissed off. "What?" Freddie snaps. He jumps to his feet, looking around. "Why? This close to shooting! That's a breach of contract and he's a—" Freddie stops himself, breathing heavily. He's been dealing with actors and actresses since day one. He's sadly accustomed to this kind of thing by now. He gathers himself and apologizes to everyone in the room for his overreaction. They all wave his apology away with understanding.

"Gibby, where's Spencer?" Freddie asks, trying desperately to forget his anger for the moment. Spencer is the director. He's out there but has had a string of fantastic movies in the past few years, so everyone figures Spencer must be something right. Freddie's still a little skeptical about the purple clay squirrel Spencer affectionately calls Beaver that the director leaves in his director chair when he's gone.

Gibby, short and chubby with a friendly face and nice hair, walks over to Freddie and says easily, "I'll take you to him. He's with the girls."

Freddie flinches at the mention of the two lead actresses. He waves goodbye to the tech room, Gibby blows a kiss to a giggling Sharon, and then the two are hurrying through the set. Freddie now sees the disorder, the worry in the faces of the people hurrying past. Everyone now knows that the male lead has left and no one knows what this means. The schedule, the funding, the planning—it's all in place and rolling. It's far too late to stop it now. That means a replacement or very, very quick script re-write will have to happen. Neither is Freddie's responsibility, but he wants to know what's going to happen. He doesn't want to, but if this turns into a sinking ship, Freddie will jump off. He doesn't stick with lost causes, and it's partially why he's got such a good reputation going. This movie is supposed to be another crown jewel in Freddie's résumé, and once again he mentally curses Shane for ditching. In his many years as the head tech, Freddie's learned that actors, more often than not, are unreliable and flippant.

A perfect example would be the two leading ladies in this movie production. Freddie's heard of them and has kept track of their careers; he keeps track of all mildly successful actors' career and scandals and public actions, because Freddie knows he might be working with them someday. These two actresses are Samantha Puckett and Carly Shay. Carly's the director's little sister, but that isn't why she got the job. She's a phenomenal actress, one of the best in her generation, and does drama so well everyone had been shocked when her comedy film turned out to be hilarious. Freddie has always wanted to work with Carly—and no, it's not because he thinks she's gorgeous, or that he thinks she's kind for all of her donations to charity, or that she refuses to date hordes of men, choosing to occasionally go out with wholesome guys who aren't in the spotlight. But while Freddie's always wanted to work with Carly, the second actress destroys all of his joy at working with Carly.

Samantha Puckett is rude, blunt, and short-tempered. She does all her own stunts and has the appetite of two people. Freddie supposes she's beautiful, in that leggy, long blonde hair kind of way that Hollywood is perpetually taken with. But Sam, as she demands to be called, is so low maintenance that she's high maintenance. Sam likes fattening, junky foods and bad pop music to be in her dressing room at all times. She comes with an entourage of comedians—she was a comedian before breaking into a surprisingly successful acting career—that crack dirty jokes constantly. Freddie has dreaded working with Sam, especially since he knows she and Carly are somehow best friends. Freddie doesn't know how that happened, and it's a sincere, real friendship, not the Hollywood-BFFs that never seem to last. Sam and Carly have been friends since before either of them got big.

It's impressive, but Freddie isn't exactly thrilled to be working with both of them at the same time. He's heard stories and there are more than enough rumors and tabloid articles about what the two get into when they're together. It's enough to make Freddie extremely wary about finally meeting them. He's seen them briefly in a few big meetings, where the heads of all the departments, the director, and the lead actors had all gathered. But Freddie had been a table away and the girls had been flirting with Shane the whole time, barely talking to anyone else. Freddie doesn't plan on having that much interaction with the actresses. He's strictly a tech guy, and actors are trouble. He's learned that if nothing else in his short but action-packed Hollywood career.

Freddie ducks around a guy carrying a huge camera, trying to keep Gibby in sight a few feet ahead. "Gibby, wait up," he calls, but Gibby turns and passes through a door. Freddie pauses, wondering where the door leads. He hesitates, looking around. He's in an unfamiliar part of the set. It looks like he's just behind a set made for the first and third scenes of the movie. Freddie sucks in a deep breath and enters the room.

The first thing that registers is angry voices. There are a lot of people talking at once, arguing, and Freddie blinks to take it all in.

There is a long, rectangular table at the front of the room. Spencer, the director, sits at the center of the table, mouth tight and expression grim. On his left sits Carly, and on his right Sam stands over her chair, pointing and yelling. In front of the table are a few rows of seats. Freddie recognizes a few other actors, some of the leading camera people, and what looks like a producer or two. Gibby is nowhere to be found in the fray, so Freddie takes an unobtrusive seat towards the back and plans on just observing. This looks like a director-actors meeting gone horribly wrong, so Freddie understands why he hadn't been invited. But now it's evolved into the meeting about dealing with Shane's abrupt departure and Freddie is glad he's here to watch it all play out.

After a few more long minutes of everyone arguing, Carly finally rolls her eyes and stands up. She shouts, "Everyone, shut up!" Her voice lessons mean that her voice carries and echoes around the small room. Amazingly, everyone falls silent, looking at Carly. She looks faintly surprised that it worked, but she covers it well. She nods somberly and turns to Spencer. "Alright, so," she pauses, then shrugs and says what everyone has been asking, "what're we going to do?"

Spencer's shoulders are tense with the weight of responsibility and Freddie feels bad for him. Freddie can barely handle being the head tech; he can't imagine what being in charge of the whole movie would feel like. But Spencer waves a hand to quiet all the whispers and admits heavily, "I've talked to our writers. There's no way we can write Shane's character out and still have a good movie."

There are protests and comments from everywhere and once again Carly has to yell, Sam joining in, and Spencer waves his hands for silence. It takes a minute but then Spencer has order again. He's sitting, flanked by the two standing actresses, and it makes an imposing picture. "We need a replacement actor." Spencer states, his eyes scanning the room. "It doesn't even have to be a good actor or a known one. Sam and Carly can be the driving force behind this. We just need a young, good looking guy or something." Spencer sounds frustrated. Freddie doesn't blame him. They have to start shooting today, and negotiations with any level of actor will cut away at that time. Spencer could always draft a cameraman, but from what Freddie's seen, most of them are older guys covered in tattoos or young guys with bad haircuts.

Even Carly, who always supports her brother, looks dubious at this. "Where are we gonna find a guy like that so late?" someone shouts from the crowd. "We can't just pull an actor outta nowhere."

"I'll do it!" a guy declares, jumping out of his seat. Everyone stares at him. He's tall, slender, with wavy blond hair and a nice tan. He's hips are a bit wide, his hair a little too long, but Freddie thinks he could do. Then the guy continues, "I mean, I can pass for a guy, so it wouldn't be too hard—" instantly the guy, or actually the girl, is drowned out by the crowd's talking and raised voices.

Sam's loud voice can be heard over the crowd. "Wait a minute! Shut up!" She's got her hands on her hips, glaring ferociously at the rest of the room. She's intimidating; even though she can't be an inch over five foot four, Freddie thinks. Sam waits until she's got everybody's full attention to continue. "At that last big meeting, with all the bigwigs," she scrunches up her nose as she thinks, "there was this guy."

Freddie remembers that meeting. He crosses his arms and wonders what guy Sam's talking about. He'd never seen her look past Shane at that meeting.

Sam tries and fails to describe the guy, so she turns to Carly for help. Carly instantly steps in, taking charge easily. "He was tall, with light brown hair," Carly explains in a thoughtful, approving tone. "He was tan, very nice smile, slight dimples." Freddie supposes Carly remembers all those details because of her actors' memory; she's got to memorize all those lines. But he doesn't know who she's talking about. He was at that meeting and it was mostly old guys, fat guys, pretty woman, him and a few other techs, Spencer, and the main actors. Carly adds, "Brown eyes that light up when he smiled. He was sitting with some of the tech guys." She bites her lip and then holds her arms up in a placating manner. "I didn't catch his name."

Freddie has a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut. He slides a bit lower in his chair, swallowing nervously. He's thinking desperately, trying to remember if any of his tech friends fits Carly's description. But this guy's a redhead, that one's blond, and another one's bald. Freddie doesn't want to believe it, but already there are a few people looking over at him. Freddie knows a few of them. The ones he doesn't know worry him, because if they're looking at him already, based on just a description, Freddie knows he's in for it.

Then Gibby appears at Spencer's shoulder. He leans down and whispers into the director's ear, and suddenly Spencer is on his feet, eyes searching the crowd. Then his eyes land on Freddie and Spencer grins slowly. Freddie tries to sink lower in his seat, but people are following Spencer and Gibby's gazes. Abruptly everyone around Freddie is staring at him, whispering and pointing, and Freddie knows it's too late to sneak out. He tries to make himself invisible, ignoring the looks. But then Sam shouts victoriously, "Yes! That's him!" Carly and Sam are grinning ear to ear, looking straight at Freddie, and he knows there's no escaping it.

"Come on up, Freddie," Gibby says, smiling cheekily, and Freddie grits his teeth. He unwillingly gets to his feet, and wishes he hadn't worn his fitted jeans today. They're not as tight as the current style, Freddie doesn't want to cut off his circulation, but they're snug and look good on him. Freddie isn't trying to be arrogant. But he knows what he looks best in, and his outfit today is one of his better, and it sucks; because at least if he'd been wearing sweats or a geeky Star Trip t-shirt everyone would've thought twice. But the whispers following Freddie are approving and positive, and not what he wants to hear.

He stops a foot away from the table, looking at the people behind it, and shooting Gibby a venomous look. Freddie glances at Spencer, who is wearing a contemplative look. "Spencer," Freddie says pleading, "I'm a tech, not an actor."

"You don't know that," Spencer replies soothingly, and there's an awful, great light in his eyes that Freddie already knows from the previous movie they'd worked on together. It means Spencer has an idea and Freddie knows his fate is sealed.

Gibby leans forward, beaming, "After all, anyone can act!"

"I can't," Freddie says desperately. He turns to the two actresses, his last hope. "I'd ruin your movie. I'm horribly at acting. I can't even play poker with a straight face. This isn't going to work,"

Sam is chewing on gum or eating something, but she pauses to rake her eyes over Freddie. It's an appraising and intense look, and Freddie resists the urge to shiver. Sam merely states, "You'll do. You can just stand there and look pretty." Then she finishes off the rest of her jerky and ignores Freddie.

He looks at Carly, and she automatically says the second his eyes land on her: "Freddie, don't worry. Your character is only in a few scenes, it's mostly Sam and my characters that the movie revolves around. Your lines aren't that bad," Carly says convincingly, "We can help you with memorizing and faking emotions and everything."

Freddie hadn't listened past "your character"; because Carly has already said it's his character, and that means it's a done deal. He takes a deep breath. He, unlike many other involved in making movies, has never been interested in breaking into an acting career. He likes his job. But how bad could it be? Sharon needs a chance to prove herself, and Freddie could let her take on some more responsibility. Besides, this would mean Spencer would owe him one, and Carly, and Sam, and Gibby, and basically everyone involved in the movie; even Valerie, the main producer and actress with a triumphant career of her own. Freddie weighs the pros and cons in the time it takes Carly to finish her pep-talk.

Then he sighs and declares to the quiet room, "I'll do it."

Then there's an overload of noise, yet again, and Sam is pressing a piece of jerky in his hand, smirking; Carly is throwing her arms around him, her perfume light and flowery; Gibby is dancing on the table, whipping his shirt around; Spencer is throwing and catching a purple clay squirrel into the air; and Freddie knows somewhere Jonah and Sharon are laughing hysterically.

He stares down at his turquoise polo and fitted jeans morosely. It was all their fault.

*

The movie wins three Oscars: one for Spencer, the director, who carries his purple clay squirrel up on stage with him and another for best effects, which Sharon proudly goes on stage to accept, blowing a kiss at a beaming Gibby.

When the Oscar for best supporting actor goes to Freddie Benson, Sam and Carly have to each take an arm and practically drag him on stage. Freddie's in shock but stammers out an acceptance speech.

Somehow Freddie wakes up the next day and he's signed on to do a drama movie with Carly and a comedy with Sam. It's confusing enough to have his picture splashed across the magazines he used to make fun of, but when Carly and Sam are splashed right next to him, Freddie just avoids thinking too much about it.

(But the next time he goes out with Carly and Sam, to a casual dinner, he wears his turquoise polo and fitted jeans because, hey, why not?)