What do you mean there's no Carter scenes?

Written by dipdipdipmyblueship and thelocalknickermerchant

She leaned her tired body against the railing, her suitcase propped up next to her legs and two takeaway cups in her hands. Rolling her head from side to side to stretch out the kinks, her eyes scanned the lounge at Manchester airport. Taking a sip of the hot coffee in her hand, she gazed up at the board once more and adjusted the tote on her shoulder.

The sound of suitcase wheels rolling along the tiled floor caught her attention, and she turned her head sharply to see a tall woman approaching. The woman stopped beside her, looked down to the tote and gestured to the items strategically poking out of the top.

With a smile, she handed the woman the cold brew black coffee in her hand, "Dingo," she nodded.

The tall woman nodded back, "Coyote."

"For a few minutes there, Knickers, I thought you'd arrived at another terminal," Cece pushed herself from the railing.

"Well, it's a good thing I caught sight of those or I may have walked right past you in this crowd," Knickers replied, pointing to the Australian and Canadian flags in Cece's tote. "So, everything sorted?"

"Yes! The car rental's sorted," Cece explained as she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and fell into step beside Knickers. "We can dump our stuff at the hotel and head on in right away. How was the flight?"

"Long," Knickers replied. "But I had an overnight layover in Dubai, so I caught some shut-eye. You?"

"Yeah, direct flight. Landed about an hour ago. Had a kid sat behind me and the brat kept banging on my seat like it was a drum or something. Honestly, it took all my patience not to throttle his useless parents."

"Well, hopefully, today will be worth the hassle!"

"Hope so! Oh, it's this way," she gestured towards the exit. "You're okay to drive, though, right? Because you know..."

"Yeah, we're meant to be under the radar here, and that won't happen with you driving down the wrong side of the road."

"What do you reckon our chances of getting in without passes are?" Cece chewed her lip as she looked up at the large grey building.

Knickers' eyes fell to the gate, where a few of the cast had exited around midday. "Once we're in, we're home and dry. We can talk our way out of any sticky situation no problem."

"So, our biggest hurdle is getting inside?"

"Pretty much."

"Any ideas?"

"Not a clue."

"Same. There's security on the gate."

"The offices will be locked up as well. If only they did set tours during the week, then we could've slipped away when they weren't looking."

"Hold up, hold up..." Cece elbowed Knickers and pointed to a group of people walking in their direction.

"I can't believe they're letting media interns come to a Coronation Street press event," a young woman prattled excitedly to her friend. "My gran is gonna freak when she finds out, she's been watching since literally forever."

"I know, right?" her friend, an equally excitable young woman said. "It's so exciting!"

Knickers and Cece's heads snapped towards each other as they both mouthed 'Press' simultaneously, before surreptitiously watching the young women as they talked about the afternoon ahead..

"Our first press event at Corrie! I can't wait to get all the goss, hey, do you reckon - oh my god, the Coronation Street sign! Come on, let's get a selfie!"

The two women broke away from the group and ran to the low wall near the studios, dumping their bags, their water bottles, and press passes onto the wall and focused all of their energies on getting the right angles for the perfect Instagram shot.

Knickers grinned to herself as a plan hatched in her mind.

"You thinking what I'm thinking, Cece?"

"How long do you think we've got? Until those girls realise their passes are missing?"

"Probably around the same time it takes security to realise we haven't made it to the press briefing," Cece responded as they came to the end of the hallway. "Okay, right or left?"

"Left."

"This place is a maze," Cece huffed. "How are we going to make it to the sound stage without being seen?"

"Keep an eye out for a lift or a staircase. There has to be a directory there-"

"Quick!" Cece grabbed Knickers' arm and pulled her into the closest room and closed the door. "Someone's coming!"

"That was close," Knickers sighed as they peered through the small window inset into the door.

"Ahh, you must be the new script editors!" A voice boomed cheerfully from behind them; they both spun around to see a man peering around the doorframe at the far end of the room.

"Oh my god," Cece whispered, tugging at Knickers sleeve. "That's Damon Rochefort!"

"You're early!" Damon chuckled as he approached the two wide-eyed women. "Well, come on in, I'll introduce you to the team. We're just waiting for Iain to join us."

Knickers grabbed onto Cece's elbow as the writer headed back into the room. "Okay, we gotta pitch this idea to them before MacLeod shows up, or we're done for."

"So tell us, what's your feedback on the summer storylines we sent your way?" Damon asked after the women had been introduced to the writing team.

"Before we get into that, we've got a critical scene that has to go into this Friday's episode. So we kinda need it approved and shot pretty much straight away."

"A critical scene? What is it?"

"It's Carla and Peter on Valentine's Day," Cece began. "It starts with them-"

"No, sorry, that's impossible," one of the writers interrupted. "That episode was filmed and edited weeks ago. And what about the press? Duncan Lindsay from the Metro isn't gonna thank us for making all his articles on the episode untrue in one fell swoop, is he?"

"Besides," another writer chimed in. "The actors are busy filming scenes for their Spring storyline."

"They're here today?"

"Yeah, I had a coffee with Ali on her morning break," Damon said. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason, just...good to know-"

"Yes, sounds like you had a lovely morning," Knickers said absently as she tried to inconspicuously elbow Cece in the ribs.

"Ow, what did you do that for?" Cece gasped.

"Shhh!" Knickers hissed while hitching a smile on her face for the benefit of the writers who were now staring at them. "I need to talk to you. In private."

"What? Now?"

"Yes, now!"

"Okay... but why?"

"Because..."

Knickers placed her hands on her hips, her eyes boring into Cece's as she quickly glanced at the door and back again.

"Oh, right," Cece turned back to the assembled writers. "Won't be a-."

Knickers couldn't wait any longer and practically dragged Cece from the room, impatient to set the next stage of their plan into motion.

"Right, we gotta make copies of these and get to the sound stage before we're found out," Knickers pulled out the short script from her bag as she peered down the hallway. "Let's try this way."

"Wait, I've got an idea!" Cece dug around in her purse and held up a bobby pin. "Aha!"

"Not the time to be doing your hair, Cece."

"No," Cece shook her head in frustration. "I was thinking we could jam the lock with it."

"Ah, that is a good idea."

"Umm, okay..." Cece looked hesitantly from the bobby pin to the door. "I'm not sure how to-"

"Give it here!" Knickers thrust the script at Cece, snatching the pin from her hand and pushing it forcefully into the lock. "You just gotta shove it in and hope for the best-"

"That's what she said," Cece grinned.

"You and that gutter mind of yours!"

"I blame you entirely."

"Right, that should do it. Let's go."

"You know we won't be able to film at the studios, it's too risky," Cece declared as they rounded another corner. "We gotta get them out on location somehow."

"Location?" Knickers asked. "Where?"

"Anywhere. It doesn't matter. Even if it's just to the canal."

"But it has to be isolated enough so we can film uninterrupted," Knickers snapped her fingers. "Hey! We could film it on a boat."

"Now, where the hell are we supposed to find a boat last minute?"

"I dunno, google it?"

"Google it?" Cece repeated, unimpressed by the suggestion.

"Yes, google it!" Knickers said with a grin. "Ah, admin offices. Now we're getting somewhere."

They peered around the doorway into the relatively empty office, save for a redheaded woman sitting behind the desk.

"Look, we're running short of time here, we just gotta take the plunge and do it," Cece said, her voice low to avoid detection. "You get those scripts photocopied. I'll keep watch out here while I google where to rent a flaming boat!"

"On it." Knickers walked confidently towards the desk. "Hi, I'm so sorry to trouble you, umm... Cheryl, is it?" she pointed to the nameplate on the counter.

"That's right," Cheryl replied with a smile. "And it's no trouble. How can I help?"

"I need to get these copied but I'm not sure how to do it? They mentioned in the induction that I'd need my swipe card or something? I'm new, you see. But the machine was broken, so I'm not gonna get my card until tomorrow at least. So... I dunno?" Knickers shrugged her shoulder in despair.

"Here," Cheryl held out her swipe card. "Just use mine."

"No, no, I'm not looking for a houseboat," Cece's voice could be heard by Cheryl and Knickers as they chatted by the photocopier. "I don't need anything fancy. Just a boat. Like a 1-cabin sailboat..."

"Planning on doing some sightseeing on the canal?" Cheryl asked, gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, no, it's actually for a last-minute shoot scheduled for this afternoon," Knickers explained as she placed the pages of the script in the feeder tray. "Got a couple of Carla and Peter scenes to film this afternoon."

"Really?" Cheryl said, a broad smile lighting up her face. "Don't you just adore them together? They're my absolute favourite couple on the show."

Knickers grinned, "they're brilliant, aren't they?"

"They really are. You know, they've got a big storyline coming up this Spring, don't you? Not like that helps right now, I'm really missing seeing them on screen at the moment."

"Which is why we're shooting these last-minute Valentine's Day scenes."

"Oh, is that so..."

"...You do? Oh, that's fantastic!" Cece gave Knickers a thumbs up. "We'll need it for, say, four hours to be safe. When? This afternoon." She suddenly frowned, "Why are you laughing...? Hello? Hello?" Cece looked at her mobile, "how rude..."

"Oh dear, trying to rent boats last minute can be quite tricky." Cheryl leaned against the doorframe. "I'm surprised you're doing the research and booking of it if I'm honest. Typically, that's the director and location manager's job..."

Knickers and Cece exchanged a quick look.

"Oh, you know, Type A personality, me!" Cece chuckled. "I'm used to working on independent films, you know, where you have to be jack of all trades."

"I keep telling her to leave it to the location manager," Knickers chimed in. "But she's stubborn that one!"

"Well, the location managers are all out at the moment, so if you're looking to rent a sailboat for today, then you'd be out of luck..." Cheryl smiled knowingly at Cece, "unless of course you know someone who knows someone who rents out sailboats..."

"And do I know someone who knows someone who rents out sailboats?" Cece asked carefully.

"You do now."

"You've got all the information?" Cheryl asked. "You got his phone number? The address?"

"Yes," Knickers nodded, tucking the paperwork into her bag. "Thank you so much, you have no idea-"

Brrrinnng brrrinnng

"Hold on a minute," Cheryl interrupted before answering the phone. "Hello? ... Oh, I see. No, I haven't. Okay, yes sure. I'll see you in a minute." Cheryl placed the telephone receiver down with a sigh before turning to Cece and Knickers. "You two need to get out of here and onto the sound stage. Now."

"Now?"

"Right now," Cheryl declared as she stood up from her chair, ripped a page from a notepad and handed the scrap of paper to Knickers, while Cece quickly gathered the script pages from the photocopier. "That's the number to call when you're ready for the minibus. Now, go on and get out of here."

"Thanks," Cece called over her shoulder as they hurried out of the office and down the hallway.

"Oi!" Cheryl called out to them before pointing in the opposite direction. "That way, turn left at the end, then down the stairs."

"Cheers!" Knickers called out as they dashed past. "Drinks on us at the Dockyard!"

Cheryl watched in amusement as the pair reached the end of the hall where Knickers promptly turned left as instructed while a frazzled Cece instead turned right.

"Hmmph!" she snorted with a shake of her head as she watched as Cece appeared momentarily, waving at her one last time, before running after Knickers.

"Cheryl?"

Cheryl jumped in fright as Iain MacLeod's voice boomed out from behind her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, you startled me." She stepped back to allow him entry into the office. "How's the press event going...?"

They stood at the edge of the set and stared at the bedlam that was playing out in front of them; the crying, the vomiting, the smelly mess.

"Oh, hell no!" Knickers turned sharply on her heel and made a beeline for the stage door as Cece jogged to catch up with her.

"Quads!" Cece visibly shuddered as she remembered the cries of eight distressed babies. "Who thought that was a good idea?"

"Forget about them," Knickers said. "I know I have. Where the hell are they?"

"Let's think about it logically," Cece said. "Which sets would they realistically be filming in? There's Roy's flat, the cafe, Daniel's flat, number 1..."

Her voice trailed off as they stepped into the most iconic set of them all, their eyes widening in awe as they stared this way and that, struggling to take it all in.

"We've got time for a quick stop, don't we?" Cece asked hopefully. "I mean, we have to take a selfie behind the bar of the most iconic pub in soap history, don't we?"

The two women locked eyes and grinned, an unspoken agreement between them, as they stepped onto the empty soundstage of the Rovers Return.

"And these interns reckon someone stole their passes?" Cheryl asked, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. "They're just trying it on, chancing their luck."

"No, security checked out their ID's and they're legit," Iain said. "You haven't noticed any strangers around, have you?"

"Me?" Cheryl asked with a shrug. "No, nothing unusual back here."

"Right, well, if you hear or see anything, give security a call."

"Will do."

"What's this?" Iain asked as he picked up a short script from the photocopier.

"Damn!" Cheryl whispered underneath her breath. "I don't know. Give us a look?"

"It's a script, but not one of ours. Who's used this machine recently?"

"No one."

"Well, someone must have."

"Maybe when I was at lunch?"

"Yeah," he said absently. "Maybe."

"Where are you going?" Cheryl asked as Iain disappeared through the office door.

"Security!" he called out, already halfway down the corridor.

"Oh, girls," Cheryl said to no one in particular. "For your sake, I hope you're not messing about and you're on the road already."

Having done all she could, she sat down in her office chair and, after reaching for a chocolate digestive and dunking it into her freshly brewed cup of tea, pulled a sheaf of papers from her drawer, a parting gift from Cece and Knickers, and leaned back, relaxed, ready to read all about Carla and Peter's Valentine's Day.

"That one of you is perfect!" Cece gushed as she looked at the image on the phone, then showed it to Knickers, who was standing behind the Rovers bar and pretending to pull a pint.

"Oh, that is a good one," Knickers smiled as she took her mobile back. "Oh my God! How long have we been in here?"

Cece looked at her watch. "Damn," she grabbed the scripts from the counter. "We better get outta here."

"Wait!" Knickers called out. "One more shot! With the two of us together. If nothing else, we'll have a good photo to give to the press when we get arrested"

Cece laughed, "Okay, one more!"

Placing the scripts down, she stood next to Knickers, who raised her mobile up above their heads, "1-2-3..."

"Yeah, I reckon that was them," MacLeod said as he peered at the multitude of screens in the security office. "But where are they now...?"

"They can't have gone far," the Security Manager observed wisely.

"You're right," MacLeod agreed. "I'm gonna go find em, you keep checking the cameras and as soon as you spot them, you call me, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Shhh!" Knickers pulled Cece back towards her. "Do you hear that?"

Cece leaned forward slightly, picking up the faint sound of voices in the distance.

"B Marker."

"Quiet on the set, please; and action."

"This has to be it," Cece mouthed to Knickers who nodded excitably. They remained where they were for several minutes until a booming "Cut!" was heard and then broke into a run towards the final soundstage. They both skidded to a stop as they rounded the wooden panels of the set, finding themselves right in the centre of the sitting room of Number One, and suddenly the focus of the multitude of people on the set.

"What's the latest?" MacLeod spoke into the phone pressed against his ear. "Where are they?"

"Last I saw…" the Security Manager replied. "They were on the sound stage, the Rovers."

"What do you mean, the last you saw? I wanna know where they are right now!"

There was nothing but static on the line.

"Well?"

"I've lost 'em."

"Are you –? Find them!" MacLeod demanded. "Call me as soon as you do."

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, MacLeod entered the sound stage with its multitude of sets and made a beeline to arguably the most famous set; the Rovers Return.

Knickers and Cece stood rooted to the spot, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide and staring, as if they had just been blasted with the giant freeze ray gun of some cartoon villain.

Everyone in the room had stopped and turned to stare at these newcomers, these unknowns, interlopers. Everyone was looking at them, a question in their eyes; the camera operator, sound and lighting technicians, the director, script supervisor, the talent.

That's what they had come to see; the talent. Alison King and Chris Gascoyne. It was these two that had tied the tongues of Knickers and Cece so that they were momentarily struck dumb.

"Yes?" the director finally asked, the impatience clearly written all over his face.

But Knickers and Cece were oblivious to the director; their entire focus was on Chris and Ali, who glanced at each other, then back at the newcomers, amused smiles playing on the corners of their mouths.

"Can I help you?" the director tried a second time to get their attention.

"Umm…" Knickers murmured, elbowing Cece in the ribs and hissing, "Say something!"

"What?"

"Anything!"

"Okay," she rallied, raising her voice to address the room. "We're, umm…"

"The writers," Knickers took charge. "The writers sent us."

"We've got a new script," Cece interjected. "For filming today."

"It's a bit last minute," the director observed with furrowed brow. "We haven't done any prep work, I haven't figured out the blocking, they haven't learned their lines," as he motioned towards Chris and Ali.

"Oh, they're more than capable," Cece said with a grin. "Besides, it can't be helped, you know, being last minute and all."

"It's a reshoot, you see," Knickers explained. "For Valentine's Day."

"But that's going out on Friday! We're filming for April at the moment."

"We're just following orders," Knickers shot back with an innocent shrug of her shoulders. "If you wanna take it up with the big boss, go ahead."

"They said it has to be filmed today," Cece added gravely. "Without fail. Like you rightly pointed out, it's airing on Friday."

"Okay," the director capitulated with a sigh. "Give us a look at the script."

MacLeod strode down the hallway, stage doors to his left and to his right. He'd had no luck in the Rovers, the Rovers back hallway, he'd even stuck his head into the large room where sets that were currently broken down and not in use for filming were stored. He'd glimpsed parts of Audrey's, the builders yard flat, Beth and Kirk's, Nick and Leanne's, Dev's. But it was obvious that the air in there, stale and dank as it was, had not been disturbed in a long time.

'Wow,' he thought to himself as he gazed about the room. 'So many sets not in use right now.' When suddenly it came to him. 'Hold up, I know a set that's constantly in use.'

So he hurried out of the broken down set room, then walked a short distance down the hallway before entering a space that was crammed with so much tat there was hardly room to turn around without bumping into something or someone.

He was standing in the front room of No. 5 Coronation Street.

But he didn't stay; he caught sight of Dolly and Sam and heard, rather than saw, the eight screaming babies that meant, he knew from bitter experience those past few months, would cause endless disruptions to the filming schedule.

'Ugh,' he silently chastised himself. 'We really didn't think through the long-term viability of this storyline.'

In the hallway once more, he called security; he was sick of this, he wanted answers, he wanted to know where those pesky women were.

"I was just about to call," the security manager informed him moments later. "They're in No. 1."

Striding down the hallway now, ready to catch them out, he made a beeline for the set that represented the most established family in Coronation Street history; No. 1 Coronation Street, home of the Barlow's.

He pushed open the door, the harsh words of censure on the tip of his tongue, only to be met with yet again an empty set.

"This one definitely," Cece grinned with satisfaction as she held out to Ali a figure-hugging red dress, cut low in the front, with the hem line skimming the tops of her knees.

"Ooh, yes," Knickers interjected. "That's giving me some early twenty-fourteen vibes that is."

"And Christmas twenty-twelve don't forget," Cece added.

"And her hair that day," Knickers shook her head dreamily at the memory. "We have to give her the same hair today."

"Definitely," Cece nodded in agreement.

"Don't you think, hi," Ali waved awkwardly as Knickers and Cece turned to face her. "Yeah, don't you think that dress is a little inappropriate for filming on a boat?"

"No," Knickers declared before catching sight of Chris. "No! No no no! Not that one!"

"What's wrong with this one?" he asked, holding up the green canvas jacket regularly worn by Peter Barlow. "It's perfect for on a boat."

"This?" Knickers gently prised the green coat from his hands. "Needs laundering."

"I'll take that," Cece said, taking the coat from Knickers. "Pop it in the bin. The laundry bin of course," she added quickly as she caught Chris' eye, his eyebrow raised dubiously.

"This is the one for you," Knickers said as she handed him the classic Peter black leather jacket.

"That's you told, innit!" Ali smirked, taking a swig of water from her trusty bottle. "Are we ready then?"

"A quick stop at hair and makeup to get some waves into your hair and then we can hit the road."

MacLeod stepped outside and into the bracing February air, needing to escape for a moment the confines of the sound stage. As he stood there, shaking off the stress of the chase, he spotted a minibus driving towards the main exit.

Is that? No, it couldn't be.

But it was; Cece and Knickers sitting in the front, taking charge; a film crew, Chris Gascoyne and Alison King all riding in the back.

"Hey!" he shouted, running towards the minibus, his arms waving frantically in the air. "Stop!"

Cece and Knickers waved back at him, each with a big grin on their face; taking their cue from their new leaders, the rest of the passengers waved happily at MacLeod as the minibus exited through the security gate and pulled onto the public road beyond.

Cece and Knickers couldn't help but grin, congratulating themselves as they witnessed first hand the filming of not just what is a national, no– an international institution, Coronation Street, but the scenes being filmed had actually been written by them for their favourite characters. Could life get any better?

"It's going well, isn't it?" Cece whispered to Knickers, who merely responded with a hissed "Shhhh!".

They watched as the camera captured a bird's eye shot of Chris and Ali in full Peter and Carla mode, laying back on the deck of the boat as the overhanging branches of the weeping willow tree on the nearby riverbank cast dappled shadows over their bodies, their fingers interlinked as they held tight onto each other's hands.

"Cut!" the director yelled. "Let's get set up for the dance shot. And folks, this is the martini shot so start packing it up. I wanna get home before dark."

"Ooh, great!" Knickers whispered in an aside to Cece. "I could do with a nice cocktail."

"Umm..." Cece glanced awkwardly back at Knickers, successfully hiding her eye roll from her friend. "I don't think that's what he means."

"No?" Knickers looked disappointed. "But we are going for drinks after, aren't we?"

"Of course!"

"That's alright then," Knickers grinned.

"Picture's up."

"Shhh!" Cece whispered.

"You shhh!" Knickers shot back with a nudge in the ribs.

"Roll sound, roll camera."

Clap! The 2AC slated the clapperboard.

"And… Action!"

Chris gently took hold of Ali's hand and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arm around her as she twirled in.

"Are we seriously gonna dance?" Ali asked. "Here?"

"Why not?"

"There's no music for starters."

"Hold on."

Chris momentarily let go of Ali's hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Searching for a very particular song, he propped the phone up on the access hatch cover, and pressed play. Immediately the familiar ting ting ta ting ting ta ting ting ta ting ta ting ta of Frank Sinatra's Fly me to the moon rang out across the water.

Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars

He pulled her in close to him once more, his one arm clasped tight around her waist, the other resting gently on her shoulder, and together they moved as if both occupying the one body around the deck of the boat, swaying in time to the music.

Let me see what Spring is like on Jupiter and Mars

Meanwhile, off camera, Cece and Knickers couldn't help themselves; they stepped from side to side, shimmying their shoulders and swinging their hips as Ol Blue Eyes crooned.

"We can't do this," Ali declared, one hand on her hip, the other clutching the script.

They had been about to shoot the very final shot of the day when suddenly Ali and Chris had stopped in protest.

"Why not?" Knickers asked. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's pornography," Chris pointed out.

"Best leave the smut to the written fics, yeah?" Cece whispered to Knickers.

"If we must," Knickers sighed. "Any objections to a good old-fashioned snog?"

Ali and Chris hesitated, just for a moment; but this moment was enough for Cece.

"Oh, come on!" Cece started on what Knickers knew full well was about to become a rant. "You two, no, not you two, Carla and Peter I mean, you've been back together for almost a year. A whole year! But not one proper snog in all that time. Not! One! Snog! What's with that? Do you know how long we've been waiting for this? Five whole years. And not one goddamn snog. A couple of pecks here and there? It's not good enough! And that's when you're actually on screen at all. I mean, we finally get the Carter reunion we've been craving for five whole years, and then you just disappear for a month at a time. You pop back, have a couple of scenes with Bertie – do you know what that does to the fandom? Do you? Do you know how we all start thinking about baby Barlow number two? But no! You disappear off-screen again for another month. You're driving us crazy!" Cece threw the script she was holding into the air in frustration, much to the amusement of the crew. "And do you realise we have not had one scene of you two together this year? At all? Not one! Either you're on screen –" she pointed at Chris, "and you're not," as she swung her finger towards Ali. "Or you're on screen and you're not. And all the while the fandom is foaming at the mouth and we are left to write all those scenes that are missing and all the smut to tide everyone over, get them through this drought. And you won't give us one lousy kiss? One kiss! Throw us a freaking bone here people. Will it kill you to give us one proper kiss? We want some of that old Carter passion."

"With tongues," Knickers added.

"Yes," Cece demanded. "We want tongues."

"What do you mean?" Ali asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she studied the faces of Cece and Knickers. "You're left to write the missing scenes for the fandom?"

"Umm…" Knickers stammered.

"Well, ah…" Cece glanced across at Knickers. "We, umm…"

"We're losing the light," Knickers successfully changed the subject. "Let's get this shot!"

Cece and Knickers watched on in satisfaction as Ali and Chris granted their wish and filmed the Carla and Peter Valentine's Day snog. It was everything they'd hoped for; it was romantic, it was passionate, and yes, there were tongues.

As if their passion had shook both heaven and earth to its core, the sky opened with a rumbling crack of thunder, and the rain began to fall.

Before the director could open his mouth to call cut, Knickers grabbed his wrist and held it, her sudden vice-like grip powered by her overwhelming need to get as much Carter passion on film as they could.

"Don't you dare," she hissed at him.

And so the scene played out; Ali and Chris, Carla and Peter, kissing in the rain on a boat on Valentine's Day.

"Hey, come here," the director called out to Cece and Knickers as they crew packed up the gear and Ali and Chris dried themselves off, wrapping blankets around their shoulders in an effort to keep warm. "Take a look at the dailies."

The two women peered into the laptop screen where the raw footage of the shoot had been downloaded and watched the scene play out, shot by shot, line by line, each word spoken and each movement made fitting in perfectly with the romantic concept.

"It's amazing," Knickers said, staring at the screen in awe. "Just perfect."

"Beautiful camera work," Cece murmured in agreement.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The three people huddled around the laptop jumped in shock and turned to see MacLeod storming towards them over what was now a muddy and slightly slippery patch of grass.

"We've just wrapped for the day," the director explained. "You should see these –"

"Wrapped on what exactly?" MacLeod demanded to know.

"The Carla and Peter Valentine's Day scenes," Knickers said matter-of-fact. Now that the shoot was over, she felt brave enough to take whatever punishment was coming.

"The–? But there aren't any Carla and Peter Valentine's Day scenes."

"There are now," the director said. "And they're pretty good, if you wanted to…" He motioned to the laptop screen, stepping aside to make room for MacLeod.

With a quick look of censure at Cece and Knickers, MacLeod stepped to the laptop and watched the footage. For what seemed the longest time, he was silent; watching. Once or twice he glanced again at Cece and Knickers, but they couldn't read his expression; they had no idea what he was thinking.

Finally, he straightened his body from where he had been leaning over the laptop and turned to look at the prey he had been chasing all afternoon.

"You two wrote this?"

"Yes," Cece said.

"Do you like it?" Knickers dared to ask.

"Actually," MacLeod said, the beginnings of a smile discernible at the corners of his mouth. "I do like it. I like it very much. There is one thing I'd like to know."

"What's that?"

"How did you two manage to take two of our actors and a director and a whole ass film crew out of the studios and onto a boat without being stopped by security?"

"Can I ask you a question?" Knickers countered. "How did Michael Bailey get a winter wonderland set up in a few hours with no notice, no council permits, no safety inspections, shall I go on…?"

"No," MacLeod shook his head, chuckling at Knicker's skewed logic. "I think you've proved my point."

"So…" Cece asked with some hesitation. "What happens now?"

"Well, there's some very special people I'd like to introduce you to," MacLeod said. "Have you two ever been in a writers' room?"

Cece and Knickers turned to each other, the panic and horror each felt reflected back in the other's eyes.

"Oh, no!"

"The writers!"