A/N: I don't know anything about guns. I shot one once, though. In my Easter dress. Also, obviously Nicole Kidman won the Golden Globe award for Best Actress Drama that year, and you'll later see that Shayne's movie wasn't a musical or comedy, but this is fiction, right? I'm hoping to find some fans :-)

Chapter 2

In the bright sunlight Don pulled on his aviators as he directed Shayne to the SUV. He opened the door for her. She thanked him and slid into the front seat, digging in her bag for her own sunglasses. Don closed her door and crossed around the front of the truck to climb into the seat beside her. She snapped on her belt and pulled down the visor to check out her reflection in the mirror. When she saw Don watching her in his peripheral vision, she quickly replaced the shade.

She blushed again. "Sorry." It was the first word she had spoken in his presence.

"No problem." Don felt he needed to dignify her apology with some sort of response. He also felt that he needed to get a little bit more information about her before he put a sidearm in her hand. "So, do you have any weapons experience?" he asked, heading south to Inglewood and his regular place.

"I need some work with the handguns." She replied. "I'm familiar and proficient with a rifle and a shotgun." She watched his eyebrows rise as he took in the information. "I played a Confederate widow last spring and just wrapped on a Western. Besides that, I grew up in Virginia. My dad saw to it that we could handle guns."

"Ah, I see," responded Don. "What do they have you using?"

"I'm no expert, Agent Eppes, but I'd say whatever you carry," smiled Shayne.

"It's Don," he smiled back, "And I'd say that's a pretty good assumption. We'll go with it." She nodded and pulled out her script. Don turned his attention to the road.

"Oh, and Don?" she asked a few moments later.

He looked over at her. "Yes?"

"I have to clean it, too. This scene here," she pointed at the page, "I'm cleaning the gun and putting it back together while I'm talking to Gareth's character," she explained.

"Ok," he paused. "We can go over that, too." They both returned focus to the actions that had been occupying them, at least for the moment. "Shayne?" Don asked just a second or two later.

"Hm?" she answered, not looking up from her script.

"How many films have you been in?"

"Oh, gosh, Don, I'm not sure. I quit counting at 12. I made three movies last year, one in a leading role."

"How'd that go?" he asked with a grin.

"It screens at Venice at the end of the summer. I guess we'll see then." She looked back down to the script.

"Yeah, I guess so." Don said, basically to himself. "Sorry, I'll let you read." No response. Don kept driving.

He turned the SUV onto a side street in a seedier section of town. They approached a cinder block building surrounded by a chain link fence topped with razor wire and a locked gate. Don nodded to the very large tattooed man outside who opened the gate to allow them to enter. Shayne shot him a sideways glance as she stowed her script and sunglasses in the bag that she shoved under the seat.

"It's ok." Don assured her. "I'm a regular, and these guys are legit."

"I didn't say anything," spat Shayne.

"You're not that good of an actress, Shayne." Don pronounced, turning toward her.

She gave him a little huff and opened the door. Don jumped out of his side and directed her toward the front door. At the counter directly inside, Don greeted the man behind it. He asked for a few supplies and handed over Bobby's money. Shayne glanced around surreptitiously while she waited for Don to collect the necessary equipment. A few minutes later he handed her safety glasses and ear protection and directed her to their booth.

Before they began Don laid out the guns and ammunition and gave her the complete run down on the selection of handguns she would be using. He held up the first for her to examine.

"Now, I'm going to explain each by the type of ammunition is uses. There are several different models from various manufactures that use each kind, but that doesn't really matter for you right now. I want you to get the overall idea, and it's the ammunition that makes the bang, anyway. This is the .40 S&W. This evolved from the 10mm Auto, which was adopted by the FBI in 1989. Eventually, when this was developed, it was found to be too powerful for some agents. They scaled back to the .40 a while later. Most Agents carry this caliber in something like a SIG-Sauer P226." He moved to the second. "This is the .45ACP. The SWAT and HRT guys carry these now, the Springfield Custom Professional Model M1911-A1." Finally, he showed her the .38 and the 9mm. "The .38 is the traditional ammunition used by the FBI, so it's probably a good idea for you to be familiar with it and the 9 pretty much rounds out the stereotypical law enforcement family of handguns. Now there's more in-depth information about subclasses of each cartridge and the usual associated manufactures and models, but I guess an overview of these four should be enough for now, and unless you need to know more specific info or get into assault weapons or the heavy firepower, you'll be set."

Shayne nodded and Don began explaining how to clean, load and shoot each one of the test models he had rented from the clerk. She followed his instructions perfectly and carefully but skillfully duplicated all of his directions and movements. Don could quickly see that she handled the firearms naturally, even gracefully. After practicing the basics a few more times, he decided that they could move on to firing them. Again, he began by demonstrating the proper form, aim and execution of the shot. He squeezed off three rounds from each weapon, relishing the power the feel of the cool metal in his hands always gave him.

Finally, almost reluctantly, Don handed over the first pistol, the standard issue .40, to Shayne. She carefully wrapped her fingers around the butt of the gun and raised her arms. She lined up the shot with her feet shoulder width apart, the right slightly in front of the other just as Don had shown her. Slowly she pulled the trigger. The target placed the shot up and to the right of where Shayne had aimed. Don stepped up beside her and placed his hands on top of hers and the gun. She turned her face toward his as he slid in behind her, his arms still on top of hers. She nodded and he helped her pull the trigger again. This time, though, with his hands guiding hers, the shot was straight and on target. He stepped away and she fired the third shot alone. It nearly duplicated the hole made by the second one. She repeated this motion until the clip was empty. She shot him yet another sideways glance and he nodded and pointed to the second firearm. They repeated the procedure similarly with each weapon until Don was satisfied that Shayne could convincingly fire a live handgun. When they had finished, she cleaned each weapon with minimal input from Don. He found himself more than slightly impressed with how quickly she picked up the things he had shown her. It was almost like teaching Charlie.

It was after 2 pm when they finished and returned the paraphernalia to the man at the counter. By this time Shayne was feeling significantly more at ease than she had when they first arrived. She flashed a smile at the attendant who asked if he could get a photo and an autograph for the wall. She agreed and he produced a Polaroid camera that was thrust into Don's hands. He snapped the photo and Shayne signed the white part on the bottom as the picture developed. Russ, the guy behind the counter, tacked the photo on a section of the wall that Don had never paid attention to before. He and Shayne stepped forward to watch her take her place among about a dozen well-known movie stars. Russ asked her if she was working on a film. She said that she was and gushed a bit over how Don was helping her prepare for her role. Russ wished her good luck and admitted that he couldn't wait to see her wielding a pistol on screen. Shayne blushed but thanked him for his help. Don shook Russ's hand and followed Shayne out the door.

Once they had made it to the car, Don pulled out his phone to check in with the office. Megan assured him that all was well and relayed information regarding Colby's surgery, which had gone very smoothly. He hung up after a few more minutes of updates from the office and turned to face Shayne, who had returned to reading her script.

"What time do we have to be back?" he asked her, glancing at his watch as his stomach growled.

She laughed at him and said that she thought it would be fine if they stopped for something to eat before they returned to the set. "Unless, of course," she teased, "You're dying for a 6 inch turkey sub from Subway." Don decided that he wasn't and directed his car onto the 405 heading north. He turned off on Wilshire, continuing toward his office.

"I thought you just checked in with them," said Shayne.

"I did. I just thought we could get some lunch around the corner and it will be easier if we park here and walk."

"Oh, good idea. How's your friend?"

Don assured her that he was doing well as he pulled in the parking structure and found his space. Then, he and Shayne crossed the street and headed down Gayley Avenue to his favorite pizza place within walking distance from work. They took a table in a corner, the only one not occupied by college students or scrub-clad hospital workers, even though it was well after the regular lunch hour rush.

"UCLA and the medical center are just a few blocks away," explained Don when Shayne commented on the number of patrons. "Two groups of people who are definitely not on the 9-5 schedule."

"I'm assuming FBI agents are another group," mused Shayne as she glanced over the menu.

"Sometimes we do actually fall under the 9 to 5 umbrella, and sometimes we get caught in the rain."

Shayne smiled. "That reminds me, you have to pick up your call sheet when we get back. It tells you when and where to be at all times. We're starting principal photography tomorrow, so that will be important. The AD will give it to you, that is, if we have an AD."

"AD?" asked Don.

"Assistant Director. He or she keeps things moving while the director sets up the shots; at least that's how it is on a big film. Presumably it will be a sibling or friend of Bobby's. That seems to be the only prerequisite to work on this picture." Shayne rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm guessing he isn't paying you much compared to what you could make on a big-budget project. So why are you doing this one?"

"I shouldn't have said that," she apologized. "Joe is a friend of mine, and when he showed me the script, I knew I wanted in. I thought they were going to pitch it to a major studio, but Bobby decided to make it himself. Actually, we're in a better situation because Bobby's uncle is producing and Warners is quasi-attached. If Bobby were producing it, we'd be going at it completely alone. This is the kind of movie that usually gets made without shooting permits or bathrooms, so I guess we should be thankful for the fact that we have the use of the sound stage and backlot at Warners."

"I guess we should. But while we're complaining, I can't believe my boss sent me down here for an entire month. I'm in charge of an entire team. I have no problem with Colby taking care of this, but me? My boss, our Assistant Director, said we had to honor our commitment to Warner Bros. He had no idea it was a rogue project. He acted like it was a Star Wars movie or something," Don complained back.

"I think 20th Century Fox made Star Wars, but still, that's really funny! You're more miserable about this than I am! Your boss made you? That's great. Bobby's basically renting the studio for free. I think Warner Independent Pictures will be credited as the Production Company, and they certainly haven't agreed to distribute the film. Bobby's hoping his uncle can produce a film festival invitation. He's hoping to be ready for Sundance next year, and maybe we'll get a distributor there." She was laughing so hard she could barely finish.

"I'm really glad you're enjoying my misery, Shayne."

"Seriously, though, Don. You have to read the script tonight. It's amazing. I told Joe that I'd make the movie for free. Little did I know he'd take me up on it. Oh well, I'm just hoping it will be my Queens Boulevard." The waiter appeared to serve their drinks and take the order.

"I swear you Hollywood folks speak another language. What's a Queens Boulevard?" Don felt perplexed every time she opened her mouth.

"You really don't watch many movies, do you Don?"

"Uh, no. Not much TV, either. Just Sportscenter when I get the chance. And the Dodgers."

"Oh yeah? You're a baseball fan?"

"I played in college and a couple of seasons in the minors."

Shayne raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Wow. So maybe you're the celebrity here."

Don chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. That was a long time ago."

"What position? Oh, wait, let me guess!" She paused for a moment and squinted her eyes as she examined him. "Middle infield, obviously. But which position?" She tapped her chin with her index finger. "Second base." She finally decided. She raised her eyebrows in expectation of his answer.

Don glared back at her, head slightly cocked to the side. "That's quite a gift you have."

Shayne beamed brightly. "I'm right? I knew it!"

Before Don could respond the waiter arrived with their lunch. Don served them both before asking, "How did you get into movies?" effectively turning the conversation away from himself.

"I've always done community theatre, when I was young, in high school and some minor stuff in college. But in no way was I planning on becoming a 'professional.' I have a business degree from Harvard. My dad definitely didn't plan on me being an actor. He says I should have attended a less expensive school if I was going to throw away my degree and his money."

"Ouch," grimaced Don.

"I guess I realized that I didn't want to do the whole corporate ladder thing, even in the context of his business, maybe especially in that context. I was working for my dad in London the summer after I graduated, and I auditioned for a part in a play. I almost think I did it to prove to myself that I should go on to graduate school or work or something. I didn't imagine for one second that I'd get the part, but I did. The play ran the entire summer of 2001, and by the time it ended, I'd signed with an agent in London who got me another play and then my first three film roles."

"Really?" Don was becoming intrigued. "In American movies or English ones?"

"Two were American films in Britain, and the third was French."

"Would I have heard of them?"

"Some people have, but I doubt you're one of them. They were no Braveheart."

Don blushed. "I just don't get to many movies."

"It's ok. I think a total of, oh, 400 people in the US saw them." She smiled back.

"You look incredibly familiar, though. Have you done anything that I would have heard of?"

"Probably not. It's been mostly artsy and foreign stuff plus a few 'can't miss blockbusters' that, big surprise, missed." She looked away from him and took a bite of her pizza. "This is good."

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite places."

"Do you go out often?" She asked.

"Every once in a while. Maybe every two months or so, depending on the caseload. Mainly when we a case resolves positively, grab a beer with the team, something like that. What about you?"

"Well, I don't club hop with Paris Hilton, and I do wear panties most of the time. So I guess that disqualifies me from being one of the 'cool kids,' but I do have a few regular spots I hit from time to time."

Don laughed. Even he had heard about Paris Hilton and the pantyless epidemic affecting young stars in Hollywood. "I hate to break up this party, but I'm guessing that the walkthrough is going to take some time, plus I've got a script to read and some research to do tonight. We'd better get back."

"I guess you're right. It might take a while. We're not nine to fivers, either."

"Good to know." Don laid a couple of bills on the table and the two left the restaurant.

They drove east to the Valley and pulled through the studio gate. Inside Sound Stage 3 the flurry of activity had dramatically increased from the morning. Shayne led him to the set where she assumed the crew was gathered to begin the shooting walkthrough. Bobby asked her how the shooting range had gone. She deferred the question to Don who assured the director that Shayne showed excellent command of the pistols. Bobby nodded and asked the cast and crew to open their scripts. He explained that they would be blocking the scenes in the order of the script and then in the order in which he planned to shoot. Three hours later they were finished and the crew was dismissed. Bobby, Gareth, Shayne, Dominic, Tim, and a few other folks remained to work out some of the loose ends before the next day. Shayne waved at Don right before he turned to go. He raised his hand, but she had already turned back to take in the instruction that Bobby was doling out to the assembly.

Don climbed into his SUV and had barely closed the door when his phone rang on his belt. He retrieved it and flipped it open.

"Eppes."

"Don?" Charlie asked on the other end.

"Yeah, Charlie. What's up?"

"Well, it's 7:30. When you phoned me this morning, you indicated that you would be informing either Dad or me of your plans for the evening. We are about to sit down to dinner, and I was wondering if I should set a place for you or if you'll be kept at work a bit longer?"

"Actually, I'm on my way out right now. It'll take me 20 minutes or so to get there, so you and Dad go ahead and eat. Just save me some, ok?"

"Will do, Don. See you in a little while."

Don closed his phone and threw his copy of the script on the passenger seat. He started the car and turned on the radio. He wasn't sure which station it was tuned to, but he laughed aloud when a Britney Spears song began playing. Instead of immediately hitting the next programmed station, he listened to pop music until he arrived at Charlie's. He pulled into the driveway and even found himself humming "Whoops I Did It Again" as he strode into the kitchen where his Dad was washing dishes.

"Donnie! Charlie said you were on your way. There's a plate in the refrigerator. I think Charlie's still in the dining room correcting some papers. He wanted to talk to you."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll just warm this." Don decided as he placed the plate in the oven. He pushed through the dining room door to find Charlie thoroughly engrossed in students' papers and lesson plans. "Hey, Chuck."

"Don. You made it. How was your day?" He let the nickname slide this once.

"Ah, it was interesting. What about yours?"

"Nothing unusual. I want to hear about your new assignment, though. That is, if you want me to hear." Charlie backpedaled.

"No, that's fine. I want to tell you about it, actually. Let me get my dinner, first."

"Sure, Don. I'll be right here." He went back into the kitchen where Alan was pulling the plate from the oven with a potholder.

"I think it's ready, Donnie. Be careful, though, the bottom is warm, so you have to put it on a hot plate. There's one right over there." Alan pointed to the counter beside the fridge. Don grabbed the hot plate as well as a beer from inside the fridge.

"You have time to sit, Pop?" Don asked.

"Sure, Donnie. I'll be right in."

"Nah, leave those. I'll finish them when I'm done with this. Come on in here with us."

Alan smiled at his son and dropped the dish towel. "Yeah, ok."

Don set his dish on the hot plate and started cutting the steak in front of him. Alan and Charlie both sat watching him. Finally, Charlie sat up on the edge of his seat.

"So, Don, what's the new assignment?" he asked.

Don pulled the screenplay from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to his brother. "I'm a technical advisor on a film that is currently shooting on the lot at Warner Bros."

Charlie and Alan glanced back and forth at one another and at Don. Charlie spoke first. "Was this something you were expecting, Don?"

"No, Buddy, it was not. Colby was supposed to do it, but he had his appendix taken out this morning." Alan and Charlie both gasped. "He's ok," assured Don, "But he obviously couldn't make it. So, long story short, they sent me and spread out the team for the rest of the month."

Alan studied his elder son's face. "How are you feeling about that?"

"Well, I spent my day taking the lead actress to the shooting range, teaching her how to clean and shoot handguns. Then, I watched the cast and crew set out the shooting schedule for the next few weeks. I really have no idea what I'm supposed to do, except read the script, and I also need to research the cast and something called Queens Boulevard. So, I'm definitely going to need help. I haven't even watched a movie forever, much less attempted to help make one. I'm completely out of my element here."

Charlie nodded. "Ok, Don. This isn't normally the type of help I'm accustomed to offering, but I will absolutely do my best to assist you in any way. Let's start with Queens Boulevard. Now, is that plural or possessive?" He asked as he pulled his laptop in front of him.

Don rubbed his hand through his hair. "I have no idea. Try both?"

"Ok. Ah! Here it is, Queens Boulevard, as in the street in the New York City borough. It's an independent film by Billy Walsh and starring Vincent Chase that debuted at the Sundance Film Festival two years ago."

Alan shrugged his shoulders. Don massaged the bridge of his nose. "That makes absolutely no sense to me. Does it say anything about the significance of the film or anything like that?"

Charlie studied the screen. "Yes. According to this site, which appears to be administrated by a group of Vincent Chase fans, before casting the role of Aquaman, James Cameron attended the premiere of Queens Boulevard. Although he only saw a few minutes of the feature, it was enough for him to feel confident in casting Chase, and the film went on to record the highest grossing opening weekend in Box Office history."

Don continued eating his dinner as he mulled Charlie's information. "Well, that makes sense," he finally decided. "Even I've seen Aquaman." He turned back to Charlie, "How about a list of filming terms, a glossary or something? I have no idea what these people are talking about, and I'd kind of like to make sure they aren't talking about me."

Alan laughed. "I know you haven't read the script yet, Donnie, but what is the movie about? And what type of technical advice are you giving?"

Don explained as much as he knew about the overall plot of the movie while Charlie continued his searching. Alan agreed that it did sound like an exciting idea and asked if there was a perspective release date. At this point Don was able to show off his newfound knowledge of the film industry by repeating what Shayne had told him at lunch. Aland seemed impressed by all that Don had learned in just one day. Charlie printed off a list of important cinema terms and asked Don about the cast members he wanted to research.

"Start with Shayne Carrigan." Don spelled her name and Charlie ran the search as he took his plate and empty bottle to the kitchen. When he returned to the dining room, Alan had walked around the table to stare at Charlie's laptop screen. They both looked up as Don entered. "What?" he asked.

"Is this the girl?" inquired Alan.

Don glanced at the screen. "Yeah, that's her."

"She's quite lovely, Donnie."

"She's like 15, Dad."

"Actually, she's 26," piped Charlie. He continued reading. "She has an MBA from Harvard Business School and an undergraduate degree in Economics, graduating Magna Cum Laude from the same institution. Impressive for an actress."

"Or for a person," smiled Don.

"Oh, wow, this is impressive. She graduated from Harvard in 2001 and didn't make her first movie until 2002. That means she was accepted totally on her own merit and not due to any factor of fame as is sometimes the case in the Ivy League. Anyway, here's a list of all the films she's done. Oh, I know this one. Amita loves it. We went to see it at USC last month."

Don joined his father looking over Charlie's shoulder. "Which one?" Charlie pointed to the screen and clicked on the blue link.

"La Liberté d'Etre Libre. It was very good. She was very good." He devoured the information on the screen again. "Yes, here. That's what I thought. She was honored for her performance."

This definitely piqued Don's interest. "What do you mean by 'honored?'"

"She won a Golden Globe and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress. The eventual winner of the second award was Nicole Kidman."

Alan whistled through his teeth. "Wow, Don. She's quite accomplished."

Don nodded for a few seconds. "I guess she is. Anything else, Charlie?"

Charlie frowned up at his brother. "Unfortunately, yes. If this information is current, she's dating Vincent Chase." He leaned back to allow Don and his father to see the photo gallery he had found. Splashed across the page were images of Vince and Shayne on the red carpet, on the beach, in the airport, pretty much everywhere.

"That's where I've seen her!" exclaimed Don. "The tabloids!"

"So, not only are you not worried that you have a crush on Aquaman's girlfriend, you also read tabloids?" Charlie asked cheekily. Alan laughed.

Don shoved his brother and glared at his father. "Ok, guys. Thanks so much for your help," he gushed sarcastically. "I've got some reading to do, so I'd better hit the road."

"I thought you were going to do the dishes, Donnie." Alan reminded.

"Even though it was just a clever ploy to get you to spend some time with us, I was actually going to do them, Pop. But now that you and Charlie have had so much fun at my expense, I'm definitely not doing them." He snatched his script off of the table and strutted toward the kitchen. "Night, guys," he called back to Charlie and his dad as he headed out the door.

Charlie and Alan remained at the dining room table staring speechlessly at one another for a few moments more. "You think he likes her?" Alan finally asked.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "No idea, Dad. She's very attractive. She's obviously intelligent and I'm assuming, knows how to handle a weapon. Those are all qualities that Don finds admirable in a prospective partner, both social and professional."

Alan chuckled at his younger son's assessment of the situation. "I guess you're right, Charlie. Well, I guess that's all the information we're going to get tonight. Want to help me finish cleaning the kitchen?" Charlie looked skeptically at his father. "Ok, you don't have to say it. Finish your work. I'll take care of the kitchen."