Being an emotional mess can really screw up your love life. Take it from me. It sucks. Instead of Norman and I tapping into that very hot and very newfound love making that we nearly blew both of our minds, we cuddled and fell asleep. Seriously, sex would have been a million times more welcome than the dishrag I felt like.

When morning dawned,I felt Norman pressed tight against my back. I had slept in the yoga pants, Norman's t-shirt combo, and it didn't seem to bother his limbido. I felt the same need rush through me feeling the heat from his body, the hardness of him. I barely had a chance to sigh, when he had me rolled over on my back. Hovering over me, I smiled up at him.

"Morning, baby," I whispered, waiting for my first kiss of the day.

Norman's eyes, so very dark, took in the shirt I was wearing. His finger tugged at the neck and a predatory grin took over his mouth. "I noticed you wearing this last night. Nearly destroyed me that I couldn't take it off you then," he lowered his mouth and kissed me slowly, tempting. Pulling back he licked his bottom lip, almost savoring how I tasted. "My shirt never looked so damn good." And then he fell on top of me, and words were rendered useless.

Hours later, maybe, who fucking knows? We lay entwined, finally sated, and probably grinning like lunatics. I looked up at him and giggled. "You know, we should have saved this-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He growled, his arms tightening around me.

"Just saying." I kissed the script tattoo over his pec. "I mean, we have to act like we're lovers in a few hours, we could have saved all that pent up NEED, and won an Oscar."

His laughter made my world bright. "And got a XXX rating, which would ruin the Oscar moment I'm sure." Norman kissed my forehead. "Are you feeling better about everything?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I hate angst. Even my own." I looked up at him thoughtfully. "Having you with me helped."

"Good." Simple and perfect. "Now let's get ready for work."

I started to get up from the bed, but he tugged me back down. And I understood perfectly. Practice makes perfect after all.

Mary was again eyeing my crotch. I tried desperately not to feel the least bit of discomfort, but damn it, this was too much. Then, another boob jiggle, another sigh and I nearly screamed at the deja vu. Donning my robe, I slipped my bare feet in my slippers and walked to set. I smiled and nodded, not nearly as out of it as I had been the day before. Duffy was getting another donut, with sprinkles this time. Jesus, was my faux sex life that fucking hunger inducing?

I rushed up to the bedside and wrapped my arms around Norman's waist from behind. "Hey, you." I whispered into his fake tattoo. I felt his hands cover mine and a chuckle run through him. "Ready for the fun?"

He turned and hugged me. "Sure, it'll be just like this morning. Except you've got a scrap keeping you from me, I've got a bag keeping me from you-"

I snickered. "I was more than willing to go the full mile. Blame Duffy and his whole morality clause." I gave Norman a wink.

"OK, OK, lovebirds." Duffy's voice called from his place by the monitors. "Save it for the screen. Get in place, and I don't even have to give y'all the peptalk. Just get it on, but not too on-" He groaned and took a bite from his donut. "You know what to fuckin' do."

I grinned at Norman and dropped the robe into Mary's hands. Kicking off the slippers, I got onto the bed. I gave Mary a look, waiting for her to tell me I was supposed to look like a woman in love, but she was already gone. Well, thank God, the deja vu was over.

"Action!" And Norman/Murphy's jeans came down. I wondered if the hunger I felt for his touch transferred well onto film. When his body was hovering over me, just like that morning, I sighed, and reached for him. Our lips met, our bodies pressed together, and like that a match was flicked. Every other person on set disappeared as we touched, kissing and thrusting. Arching into him, sighing, and moaning. All too soon for either of us, "CUT!" was called.

"Jesus," Duffy groaned. "I swear, that was hotter than-" He watched the replay while Norman held me, waiting to see if a reshoot would be called. "Fuck, I need all our scenes to go that well. It's good, no it's fan-fucking-tastic."

I grinned up at Norman, and waited for Mary to descend with my robe. Wrapping myself up, watching Norman replace his jeans, I felt a tingle of being watched. I shrugged it off, thinking about the crew and others that had watched us, but turning to go back to get into real clothes, I saw him. Sean had come to watch our scene, and he looked like someone had stabbed him.