Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now you're an All Star get your game on, go play
Hey now you're a Rock Star get the show on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
HOLLYWOOD BABYLON
(approx. 4.5 years ago – 2-3 months after Dean & Beth get serious
2 weeks after Route 666 from Highway to Hell
Warner Brothers Studios
Hollywood, California
Beth's POV
John looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting next to me on the tour trolley as it slowly crept through the various studios of Warner Brothers.
"First opened in 1927, the lot has been in continuous operation for eight decades," the tour guide said over the loudspeaker. Dean turned to a chubby kid sitting next to him eating an icecream and grinned.
"Hey, you know this is where they filmed Creepshow?" He said, I twisted around in my seat to look at them, and the kid threw Dean a look as much to say he had no idea what he was talking about.
"Now to the right, here is Stars Hollow. It's the setting for the television series Gilmore Girls. And if we're lucky, we might even catch one of the show's stars," said the tour guide.
Dean leaned forward and tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, hey Sammy would love that!" I chuckled, shaking my head at how much Dean was enjoying this tour.
John rolled his eyes at Dean and looked at me. "Come on," he said.
"Awww, come on! Let's finish the tour!" Dean said to John, but the older Winchester simply got off the trolley in full confidence that we'd be following. I jumped off the trolley and watched Dean hesitate.
"Dean!" I said to him, throwing him a warning glance. Dean sighed and slid out of his seat on to the pavement below, a scowl on his face.
We started following John around one of the buildings, Dean was checking out some of the people standing around. "Beth, check it out, it's Matt Damon!"
I spun around, all excited, and was disappointed at what I saw. I sighed at Dean. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not Matt Damon," I said, rolling my eyes.
"No, it is." Dean said determined.
"Well, Matt Damon just picked up a broom and started sweeping," John said, listening in on the conversation.
"I think I'd know Matt Damon if I ran into him, thank you very much!" I quipped, sticking my tongue out at Dean.
"Oh that's mature," Dean said smuggly. "Well, maybe he's researching a role or something."
"I don't think so..." I said, shaking my head.
"Come on, I think Stage 9 is this way," John interrupted us, heading in a new direction.
Dean sighed, clearly wanting to go have a little fun, but he wasn't about to argue with his father. John caught the sigh and turned to look at us.
"Hey you were the ones who wanted to come to LA," he said to us.
"Yeah, for a vacation Dad," I laughed, "Swimming pools, movie stars, not work!"
He smirked at us and shook his head. "Working is good, it'll keep you focused," he said gruffly and I sighed.
"Yeah, ok. All right. So, this crew guy – he died on set?" Dean said with a shrug in my direction.
"Yeah, rumours are spreading saying the set's haunted," John replied with a short nod.
"Like a poltergeist?" I said nervously, it'd only been about ten weeks since we'd encountered one of those and it had sent me flying through a second-storey window, almost to my death. Dean grimaced and laid one of his hands protectively at my lower back.
"It could be a poltergeist, yes," John said, nodding. He frowned a little at me, recognising that I was still a bit beat up from that, I'd had a massive gaping wound in my side which had only just healed up from the fall, my shoulder had been dislocated too – they were all just starting to return to normal now. The wound was still extremely tender to the touch, and I subconsciously ran a couple of fingers along it.
Dean tried to distract me. "You know it was rumoured that the set of Poltergeist was cursed. That they used real human bones as props. Like three of the actors died in it!" John and I stared at him. Not the distraction I really had wanted.
"Well it might be something like that," John said in all seriousness. Dean sighed.
"All right, so this crew guy – what's his name?" He asked.
"Frank Jaffey," I said to him, wondering if he ever actually listened to John when he was briefing us.
"Frank Jaffey – he got a death certificate or a coroner's report or anything?" Dean asked.
"Well, no. But it's LA, you know? It might not even be his real name. But the girl who found him said she saw something – a vanishing figure," I said. I had been paying attention, but then, I usually did.
"Girl's name?" Dean asked.
"Tara Benchley," John said and started walking toward the studio again. Dean's eye perked up at the sound of that.
"Whoa, whoa, Tara Benchley? From feardotcom and Ghost Ship, Tara Benchley? Why didn't you say so?" Dean said, starting to hurry after his father.
"What, now you're suddenly on board?" I asked, trailing after them.
Dean saw the sigh and came back to me; John shook his head and kept walking. "Oh, come on, I'm just a fan of her work. She's very good." He said giving me a quick kiss and one of his heart-stopping smiles. I rolled my eyes and started to follow John. Dean chuckled, putting his arm around my shoulder and walking with me.
Stage 9 Movie Set
Beth's POV
When we entered the set John wandered off to talk to one of the crew members who was setting up microphones, waving us on to a group of a couple of directors huddled talking near the front of the set.
"No look, don't get me wrong. Everyone at the studio loves the dailies, me included. We were just wondering if it could be... you know, a little brighter." One guy was saying, he was well dressed in a suit, and had the suave hair thing going on. I figured he was someone higher-up in the Hollywood food chain of movie production.
The man with him looked sceptical "Brighter?" He asked. He was less impressive, a little over weight, in a polo shirt with a cap on, and looked tired and impatient with the well dressed man.
"Yeah, Jay. More colour. McG, you know what I'm saying; you're the master of that stuff." Fancy hair said to the taller man standing with Poloshirt guy.
"Brad, this is a horror movie." The guy identified as McG said.
"And who says horror has to be dark? It's sort of depressing, don't you think?" Hair guy, aka Brad, said. As he was talking he'd noticed Dean and I wandering over. He looked right at Dean.
"Uh, excuse me, Green Shirt Guy?" He called out, pointing to Dean's over shirt. Dean looked surprised and pointed to himself. "Yeah, yeah, you. Come here."
Dean looked at me and shrugged before walking over to this guy.
"Can you get me a smoothie from Kraft?" He asked Dean.
"You want a what from who?" Dean asked, not understanding.
Brad scoffed at him. "You are a P.A.? This is what you do?" He asked. Dean looked confused and I quickly walked up to intervene.
"Yeah, yeah, … one smoothie, coming right up," I said, pulling Dean away with me.
"What's a PA?" Dean asked, still confused.
"They're kind of like slaves," a British accent sounded from behind us. I spun, recognising the voice.
"Jefferson!" I exclaimed. The tall, spikey haired Brit had walked up behind us when we weren't looking and was standing there smirking at us.
He inclined his head to the side and we all wandered off somewhere more private to talk.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him, as soon as we were out of earshot.
"Same thing you guys are by the looks of it," Jefferson said with a smile. "Only I have managed to convince them I know something about props, I'm handing the weapons – not that there is exactly a massive amount on this set."
"They'll let anybody in this business huh?" Dean asked with a smirk.
"Apparently so," John said, finding us in the dark and coming up behind us.
"Hey John, long time," Jefferson said with a nod. John nodded back, looking all serious at him. Jefferson swallowed. The last time Dean and I had gone on a case with Jefferson, I'd been eighteen, and Dean had disobeyed orders – not entirely his fault – and I'd been caught by the homicidal spirit we were hunting. Jefferson took the blame because he was the lead on the hunt; things had been a bit tense with John since then.
They stared at each other a while and then John's face broke into a grin; he laughed and reached forward, pulling Jefferson into an embrace.
"Good to see you man," John said, uncharacteristically. I raised an eyebrow while Jefferson and Dean looked stunned at the show of affection.
"Hey, this guy and I go way back," John said in explanation. "I can't stay mad at him forever."
"Could have fooled me," I muttered. I liked Jefferson, but hadn't really approached the idea of working with him since the Philadelphia hunt because of how pissed John had been over the whole thing and how it went down.
John just looked at me, and then chose to ignore the statement.
"You need a hand with this one?" John asked, looking at Jefferson.
"The more the merrier, you know me," Jefferson said enthusiastically. "I just got here a few days ago, so far there hasn't been anything to get excited about."
"Well that could be a good thing." John said with a nod. He was thinking something over, and I exchanged a look with Dean, who shrugged.
"I'm gonna leave Dean and Beth with you, I don't think we all need to work this one." John said.
"What?!" Dean said, gaping.
"Stay here and work the job, I'm heading out for a week," John said.
"To do what?" Dean asked.
"None of your business Dean." John replied sternly. I elbowed Dean in the ribs and he grimaced at me. Just the same, he fell silent.
"You have Jefferson here, it's not like I'm abandoning you. I have a few things to take care of, that's all." John said sternly, looking over at us.
"Yeah I bet you do..." Dean muttered under his breath, looking at me. I frowned at him, curious as to what had gotten into him.
"What's the supposed to mean?" John asked, catching the comment. I held my breath, afraid that this was going to end in a fight like it usually did.
"Look why don't you just admit you're off to get your freak on with Cole? What's so wrong with just being upfront about it?" Dean asked. I stared at him. What did he care if John was going off to see Cole? I reasoned that's what he was going to be doing, but he wasn't going to admit it. We'd just spent time hunting a water spirit with her a month ago, and I highly suspected she'd been the reason John was so absent from the case with Cassie, just two weeks ago. But John admit to spending that amount of time with her? It wasn't going to happen.
"What I do with my time is my business Dean, check your tone," John said with a steely gaze. He wasn't about to take Dean's shit, he'd already born a few of Dean's comments, but they were starting to wear thin on the older man.
I kind of understood Dean's hesitation, after all, Bobby was like a second father to us – well third for me – and it was a little weird thinking about Cole, who was our age, with John. On the other hand I was being incredibly selfish; I was looking forward to the alone time with Dean.
I didn't know what was going on as far as John and Cole were concerned right now, I didn't know if they were talking, fighting, or something else - I got the impression she was laying low – not sure what to do now we were back on the road. John didn't mention her, and we didn't ask – Dean was still in denial about the whole thing because she was his age, and that just weirded him out.
John had turned to converse quietly with Jefferson and I looked at Dean who was fuming at his father.
"Hey, let it go," I said quietly in his ear. "If he needs to take off, let him."
He threw me a frustrated look and shook his head; I knew he was thinking along the same lines as me. Lately John wasn't adhering to his own rules very much. But I had to admit he still got the job done; we probably had a lot that we could learn by watching this, because sure as hell, whenever we got distracted on the job, things went a little haywire.
"OK." John said finally, turning to us. "Keep your heads on straight, work the job; don't get carried away having too much fun." I smirked at that one, thinking back to my twenty-first birthday only three months ago. "Stay safe," John finished, looking at me. I nodded. "Keep Dean out of trouble please?" He asked, and Dean snorted. I laughed and nodded in response. Dean was still rolling his eyes at John.
"Sammy's started school, I'm going to check on him," John said quietly to Dean as he walked past him. Dean stared. It was the first time John had mentioned Sam at all since the fight. I was floored. I should have expected it, but I hadn't – I'm not sure what was worse. "Look after your sister," he said, looking back at me. Dean nodded, now silent.
John gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and smiled, ruffling my hair a little. I smiled back at him. Then he was gone, walking out of the studio.
"Yeah, and the rest," Dean muttered to his retreating back. "Isn't gonna take a week to check on Sammy," he said to me. I rolled my eyes; he just wasn't going to let it go.
"So guys," Jefferson said, breaking the mood. "Where are you staying?" Staying? We looked at each other and then the smiling blond and shrugged.
"I thought you might say that. Well most of the places around here are booked solid because of some Buffy convention." Jefferson said.
Dean looked confused. "Who is Buffy?" I snickered and shook my head. He knew what Charmed was, but somehow Buffy had slipped under his radar, maybe three hot women on the screen trumped one.
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it's a massively popular TV show Dean," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Oh yeah? Vampire Slayer? Pffft yeah right. Now Charmed, that's realistic, plenty of witches out there, dunno about good ones, but vampires?" Dean looked sceptical. "You know if they want to make a realistic TV show, they should make one about our lives… they could call it … Supernatural Hunters… yeah."
Jefferson laughed at the idea and I grinned.
"Only you would think there's something in our lives worth televising, Dean," I said with a shake of my head. Dean looked offended.
"Hey, I happen to think I'd be very popular, in the right lighting…" he said with a grin.
"Well, I'm not sharing you with a raging fan base – bad enough just about every woman throws herself at you now, so enough of that and maybe we should get back to the job at hand?" I said to him.
"Smoothie!" Dean exclaimed and started to run off to do his new job. Jefferson called out directions to him as he went, laughing as Dean almost ran into a fake wall.
"Well, well," Jefferson said to me with a cheeky grin. "Guess I do have to give up the bed for certain this time if you're staying with me." I blushed and he threw an arm around my neck in a brotherly fashion. "So how long has it been?" The last time Jefferson had worked with us I'd been eighteen, and Dean and I had shared a bed – it was all relatively innocent until he'd woken up with a boner shoved in my back in the morning. That had kind of got our hormones brewing, and they'd been simmering away ever since causing an untold amount of sexual tension in the family unit.
"Uh… three months?" I said to him, a little chagrined.
"Is that all?" Jefferson looked shocked. "You took your time!" I groaned and nodded.
I looked pained because he was right. We'd taken way too many years to get to this point.
"That's ok, least you got there in the end. Now there's a massively big couch in my suite, this is Hollywood after all, and I thought I'd roll in style this time around. The studio is paying; they just don't know it yet!" Jefferson's laugh rolled easily from his lips and his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It was good to see him again. "You guys can have the ridiculously large bed."
Hours later I was just loitering about. Dean had returned with his second tray of smoothies, setting them down. We looked around as the cast and crew got ready to resume shooting. Dean nodded up at the scaffolding and indicated he was going to take a look. I was busy watching the actors get into position.
"Why don't we take it from 'Come on, it'll be fun,'" suggested McG and they all nodded. "And, action!"
Tara Benchley was playing the lead character Wendy in the movie. She stepped up to the set, a book in her hands and resumed her role.
"Come on, it'll be fun," she said in character. She began reading from the book in very choppy Latin, I tried not to smirk; Latin was like a second language to me so maybe I was a little critical. Dean was inching his way along the scaffolding, EMF meter in his hand. He scanned around, and then started to make his way down to me again.
Tara was still struggling through the Latin and the director was getting annoyed.
"Maybe we'll finish this up tomorrow," he suggested.
The actress broke character and looked over at him. "Oh my God, I hate you so much right now."
"Cut!" McG called out at that. Everyone around me, cast and crew started laughing. "Very nice," McG said, shaking his head.
A few minutes later Dean was at my side at the food and drinks table.
"So?" I asked, inclining my head toward the scaffolding.
"No EMF anywhere," Dean said, picking at the food and starting to stuff his mouth.
"Great. So, what do you think?" I asked.
"Well, I think being a P.A. sucks. But the food these people get, are you kidding me? Look at these things!" He picked up sandwich and held it out to me. "They're like miniature Philly cheesesteak sandwiches. They're delicious!" Leave it to Dean to discover the food. He held one out to me and I grinned, taking it from him. I took a bite and it was like a little bit of steak heaven melting in my mouth. I nodded appreciatively.
"What'd you find out about the dead crew guy?" Dean asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
"Frank Jaffey was just filling in for the day. Nobody here knew him or where he lived or anything," I said.
"Oh great. So you found out about as much as I did." Dean said with a sigh.
"No, not quite…" I let my voice trail off as one of the crew approached. His name was Martin and I think he was one of the script writers.
"Hey guys," he said to us casually, looking up at me. I was staring over at the set, so I missed the double-take that he did when he saw me.
"Rose?!" He asked, looking at me. I glanced over at him, wondering whether he was talking to me or not, it appeared he was by the way he was looking at me.
"Uhh..." I said hesitantly.
"Rose Byrne is that you?! You remember me? Martin Flagg? We worked together on The Goddess of 1967," I stared at him. I had no idea what he was talking about. Martin continued to ramble on.
"I mean, it was three years ago and all, and things move quickly in the movie industry right? I was on location in Australia for that one." Dean started nodding at him, smiling away. I threw him an incredulous look.
"Yeah, yeah Marty, of course she remembers you... she talks about you all the time," Dean said, taking Martin's hand and shaking it. He turned stern eyes to me which told me to start acting, and make it good.
"Right, of course, sorry it's just been a long day!" I said with a smile, leaning forward to give Martin a kiss on the cheek.
"What happened to your accent?" Martin asked me, looking at me curiously.
"My accent?" I asked, then remembered Rose Byrne was an Australian actress. "Oh! Yes, that. Well you see... I'm working on an American film see, and it's just easier to stay with the accent, otherwise I lose it." I tried my best to sound credible.
"Well, you nailed it," Martin said with a dazzling smile, looking at me like he could eat me up. "I really love what you've done with your hair."
"Oh?" I said, a little self-consciously, touching the long dark tresses that were hanging down my back.
"Yeah, I mean red was awesome, but I just love the brunette – is that your natural colour?" I nodded because I couldn't think of another answer. "Yeah, I thought so." Martin said with another smile.
"Yeah, those brunettes, something special about them isn't there?" Dean cut in with an awkward smile. Martin more or less ignored him.
"Uh, yeah." He said to Dean, raising his eyebrow. "So what are you doing here?" He was looking at me again, deep dark eyes staring into my soul.
"Uhhh, well you know I'm a big... big... huge fan of horrors, a little guilty pleasure of mine." I said, trying to think of something to say.
"Oh really? Well, why don't you come sit with me while we film? Maybe you can give some of these young kids some real acting tips!" Dean was nodding at Martin's suggestion and pushing me away. I threw a look back at him as much to say, what the hell are you thinking.
"Sure, Marty," I said finally. "Just give me a minute to give my PA some errands to run, ok?"
Martin looked Dean over and then nodded. "Well don't be long, we're about to start again." I nodded with a smile and watched him walk away, before spinning on Dean.
"Are you insane?!" I whispered urgently. "I'm no actress!"
"Yeah, but he doesn't know that!" Dean said, he was beaming at me and I rolled my eyes.
"Listen, before I have to go be all Hollywood," I said to Dean, drawing his gaze again. "I did dig up some stuff about Stage 9's history."
"Yeah?" Dean asked, curious.
"Yeah, four people died messy here over the past eighty years. Two suicides and two fatal accidents," I said.
"Any one of those could be a vengeful spirit," Jefferson said, coming out of what seemed like nowhere.
"Yeah. We've just gotta narrow it down more," Dean said, his eyes suddenly becoming distracted as Tara walked on to the set. "I'll get right on that." He wandered off and I rolled my eyes. If I wasn't still riding high on the fact that he and I had solidified our relationship a few weeks back, I would probably feel hugely insecure right now. Scrap that, I still did, and I sighed at Jefferson.
"You know he's never going to change in that regard," Jefferson said. "Best get used to it, but I wouldn't worry about him going someplace else, you don't see the way he looks at you little girl." I chewed on my lip, wanting to believe him, not sure I completely did. Then again, he had turned down Cassie two weeks ago when she threw herself at him.
"Well," I said thoughtfully, looking over at Martin who was waving me over with a big smile. "Two can play at that game." I raised my eyebrow at Jefferson and he shook his head.
"Beth! Don't be like that with him." But I was already walking toward Martin. "Beth!" I glanced back to see Jefferson looking a little bewildered at the pair of us, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
I sat in the director's chair next to Martin and beamed at him. Dean caught the look out of the corner of his eye as he was talking to Tara, and he turned narrow eyes to me. Martin was a pretty good looking, if not older man, if I wasn't completely and utterly in love with Dean I might have even pursued Martin given his obvious affection for me. I was flattered.
Stage 9 Movie Set
Dean's POV
So maybe it hadn't been such a great idea to push Beth into pretending she was a movie star. Movie stars got attention, and while I couldn't exactly blame Marty for being interested, it did leave me with an uncomfortable feeling in my gut. I found myself starting at Beth as she smiled and talked to Marty, instead of focusing on the girl in front of me.
I grabbed a sheet of paper from one of the set workers as they walked on by and stepped up to Tara Benchley, the Tara Benchley who was sitting on a chair right there in front of me.
"Are you supposed to get one of these?" I asked her, holding out the paper. She looked up and smiled at me, I took it as a good sign.
"I don't really know what I'm doing," I said nervously.
"First day?" Tara asked with a smile.
"Yeah. My big break." I said, acting all shy and stuff. She chuckled at me. God I'm good, I thought. "You know, I know it's really uncool to say this, but I'm a big fan. I loved you in Boogeyman," I said honestly to her.
"Oh God, what a terrible script," she said with a smile. "But thank you."
"Yeah." I said smiling back at her. There was an awkward pause as she stared right at me. I imagined I could feel Beth's eyes staring right into my head. Good thing she didn't have laser vision. "You found him, right? The dead guy?" I asked at random. Tara went really quiet in front of me and looked away. "I'm sorry," I back pedalled, "you probably don't even want to talk about this."
"No! No, actually. It's ok. Nobody around here really brings it up very much. I think they're all scared I'm gonna have some kind of a breakdown," she confessed.
"That must have been awful. What happened?" I asked.
"It was horrible. There was all this blood coming from his eyes and from his mouth. And, uh... I saw this, um..." she stopped, looking a bit embarrassed.
"What?" I asked, pushing for information.
"I saw this shape. To tell you the truth, I don't know actually what I saw. I just know I saw it." Tara finished.
A geeky looking dude came up to Tara and handed her a snapple. "Here you go, Tara."
"Thanks Walter," she said with another smile. He walked away.
"So, this crew guy, Frank – did you know him?" I asked.
"No, not that well," she said, shaking her head.
"It's funny, it's like no one around here actually knew the guy," I said with a slight frown.
"I've got his picture," Tara said.
"You do?" I asked, surprised.
She smiled at me. "Yeah. I take Polaroids of all the crew. It's just one of those things you do to kill time on set." She pulled a binder from the table beside her and started flipping through it. "Right there," she said, stopping at a page and pointing at a photo. I leaned forward a little, something about the guy seemed really familiar. Then it hit me.
"Son of a bitch!" I said under my breath. Tara looked at me curious and I made my excuses, hurrying off the set, I needed to find Jefferson and tell him what was going on. Beth looked like she was stuck with Marty for the next few hours; already I could tell she wanted to stick pointy things in her eyes. I pulled out my phone and texted she, letting her know to stay put. She glanced over her shoulder at me, frowning and I blew her a kiss when no one was looking, then grinned and headed toward the exit.
Gerard St. James' Residence
Dean's POV
Jefferson and I headed up the steps to the house we'd discovered belonged to Gerard St. James. Jefferson was harping on about being careful of Beth's feelings, and blah blah blahdiblah in an English accent. He was still blahing on as I knocked on the door.
"Listen, Jefferson, Beth's a big girl, she can take care of herself." I said, turning as a man opened the door.
"Gerard St. James?" I asked, just to be sure.
"Yes," the man said with a nod.
"You're still alive. And you're not Frank Jaffey," Jefferson said to him.
"Uh, no." He confessed, looking at us both.
"You were Desert Soldier Number Four in Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn?" I asked, wanting to make doubly sure I had the right guy.
"I was," Gerard confirmed.
"I knew I recognised you! I am a huge fan. I mean, your turn as a tractor crash victim in Critters 3?" Gerard said the movie's name in unison with me as I mentioned it. He smiled, pleased that I seemed to know what I was going on about.
"Wow, yeah," I said, pleased that I had the right guy.
"Well, please, come in," Gerard said, waving us through the door.
We entered the house and Gerard went about bringing us coffee. I looked around, it was comfortable surroundings but modest, pictures of Gerard lined the walls in various characters and roles he'd played.
"Yeah, it was the producers," Gerard said in response to one of Jefferson's questions. "They brought me up for the day to play Frank."
"Just to fake your death?" I asked.
"Well rumours of a haunted set, free publicity, especially when you're making a horror movie. It's already all over the internet." He said.
"Yes, we know," Jefferson said stiffly.
"These days, it's all about new media, building buzz." He said to us.
"And the ghost Tara saw?" Jefferson asked, putting his coffee aside. Jefferson was British, he tended to go for the tea.
"Projected on a screen of diffusion," Gerard explained.
"Isn't that kind of cruel?" I asked, "Messing with their heads like that?"
"Hey, I just play the part. I don't write the script. Speaking of, I'm playing Willy in a dinner theatre production of Salesman at Costa Mesa , all next month." He said, plugging away his act. He handed me a flyer. "You get a free pepper steak with the coupon."
I nodded, then something occurred to me. "Now, wait a second. If you're seen in public, won't that ruin the hoax?" I asked.
"Oh please. Frank and Willy? Totally different characters," he said.
"Yes, well, thank you very much Mr. St. James. It was just nagging at us. But we're very glad... you know, to see that you are alive and well." Jefferson said, standing.
"Absolutely," I said to him with a nod. Gerard shook both our hands. "Hey," I said. "I wanted to ask you... what was it like working with Richard Moll?" I looked at Jefferson and he was staring at me confused. "Metalstorm. He was Hurok, King of the Cyclops people." Jefferson looked horrified at mention of cyclops people in a movie.
"Gentlemen's gentleman." Gerard said, and I nodded.
"Yeah?" I asked. I chuckled and then looked at the coupon in my hand. "All right. Pepper steak!" I looked at Jefferson and the man rolled his eyes at me, leading the way out of the house.
Stage 9 Movie Set
Beth's POV
We were on to yet another take of the same scene. The actors playing Mitch and Kendra were filming in the abandoned warehouse on set.
"When we read from that book, we must have brought them back. Back from Hell!" Mitch said. I noticed one of the crew grimace while Kendra gave her line. "It doesn't matter. We're not going anywhere until we find Wendy and her sister. Got it? Now let's get busy."
"Cut!" McG called out to everyone. "Very nice."
"No good for sound. I'm getting some kind of feedback," the guy I'd seen a moment ago said. Everyone around me sighed.
"Another costly sound delay. All right, we're going again for sound, people!" Someone shouted.
"Thank you!" the sound guy called back.
"No, no, look. It's a great scene, really dynamite. But I've still got a few... not problems, just questions," Brad was saying.
"Like what?" McG asked, annoyed with the man.
"Well, for one, the rules aren't really landing for me. Like, the kids do this Latin chant, and that makes the ghosts show up?" Brad asked, and McG nodded.
"Yeah?"
"See," Brad continued, "but if the ghosts are in Hell, how do they hear the chanting? I mean, what do they have, super-hearing? It's a logic bump. The rules don't track." I almost snorted and thought to myself, the Supernatural doesn't always make perfect logical sense. I held my tongue though, after all – it was just a movie.
McG rolled his eyes. "Marty, you're the writer," he said, looking over at Martin who was half-listening, and half talking to me about some of the things he'd enjoyed while in the Australian outback filming.
"What if I throw in an explainer?" He said without missing a beat.
"Yeah, that'd be super. Excuse me, I've gotta check some messages," Brad said. He left and McG rolled his eyes at us both.
"Suits!" He muttered.
Brad wandered off to another area of the set and production resumed again on the film.
"When we read from that book, we must have brought them back. Back from Hell!" Mitch said.
"But I don't understand. If they were in Hell, how could they hear our chanting?" Kendra said, going with the new lines.
"They must have super-hearing!" Mitch said.
Suddenly the ceiling of the abandoned house caved in, and I jumped a little, not having expected it. The actors screamed and ran off the set. Marty jumped too, in fact, everyone did and I realised, this wasn't part of the act. It was especially more obvious when we realised that Brad was hanging from a noose.
Dean and Jefferson collected me from the set, and I was relieved to be leaving. It wasn't over though.
"Rose!" Marty called out, jogging after us as we were leaving. I bit my lip and then turned to smile at him.
"Hey, so I was wondering. I know it might seem a little odd... especially given that someone just died and all... but I was hoping maybe you'd like to have dinner?" He asked. I hesitated, trying to think of a way to get out of the idea. Right at that moment Tara walked past making eyes at Dean, he smiled back at her and I saw red.
"Yeah sure, why not?" I said, and Dean turned to look at us. "Tell the man where I'm staying please," I said to Dean, and then turned on my heel and walked out. I stopped and looked back at Marty who was standing there like he didn't believe I'd said yes. "Pick me up at 7!"
Jefferson escorted me to the car with a chuckle. "You know you really shouldn't tease Dean like that." He said.
"Why not?" I asked with a smirk, opening the passenger door of the Impala. "He's a big boy, he can take it. Why should he be the only one who gets to flirt? Maybe it'll teach him a lesson."
Jefferson rolled his eyes and shook his head, getting in the back seat. "You two are some of the most incredibly stubborn people I've ever worked with... aside from John of course." I snorted, he hadn't seen anything yet.
Outside Motel Room
Beth's POV
My "date" with Martin had gone quite well, as far as dates went. I had managed to steer us clear of any famous people or paparazzi because the last thing I wanted to do was run into anyone else who thought they knew me, or have my picture show up in the latest TV rag out there.
We had just made it back to the motel room and there was the awkward moment right before you said good night. Do you kiss them? Shake their hand? Say you had a good time? Martin went in for the kiss, and I froze, not sure what I should be doing. What would Rose do? I didn't know anything about her; she could be married for all I knew! Marty's lips got closer and closer, I pulled back slightly and then to my relief, the door opened.
Dean stood in the entrance, looking out at us and he cleared his throat loudly.
"Oh," Martin said, looking over at him. "Your PA stays with you in your suite?" He asked, curious.
"Uh, yeah, well not always – only at certain times of my schedule, I've been really swamped lately; he knows how to get me to … relax!" I said pathetically, and smiled to try and hide the ridiculous reasoning.
"That's right. Above and beyond, that's my job." Dean said with a smirk. "That's why she pays me the big bucks," he said, turning stern eyes to me.
"Right, well I should probably get some sleep," I said, looking at my watch. It was almost ten o'clock.
"You're coming to the set tomorrow morning?" Martin asked.
"You'll continue filming?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah, you know what they say – the show must go on." Martin said with a shrug. "It's what Brad would have wanted." I nodded, speechless.
"She'll be there," Dean answered for me, and then pulled me inside with a curt "Good night." He shut the door behind us, pushing me into the wall.
"How was dinner?" He asked, leaning in close.
"Fine. Yours?" I asked, looking up at him. I really wanted to mess with him, but I was tired, and I hated playing these games at the best of times. All I wanted to do was go to bed, and have Dean with me, no messing around.
"Room service here is great." Dean said quietly, looking at me. I reached up a hand and stroked it along his face.
"I missed you," I said quietly, letting him see the honesty in that statement bleed through in my eyes.
He sighed and leaned his forehead to mine. "Me too," he said back, then kissed me softly, his hands coming up to frame my face as he angled my head up.
"Can we go to bed please? I'm so tired," I said to him, he smiled and nodded.
"The bed is great too!" He grinned, pulling me down the little hallway into the suite. It was like a small house, a kitchen with open plan living room and dining opened up to a balcony outside where there were lounge chairs looking out over the city lights. Jefferson was bundled up on the couch watching some old movie on the big screen TV, he looked up as we entered.
"Hey, did you have a good night?" He asked with an amused expression on his face.
"No!" I said, crossing my arms. He snorted at me, and lay back down on his pillow.
"Told you not to go!" He said and I groaned, throwing my hands up in the air.
Dean followed me into the bedroom and as soon as the door closed he was undressing me, kissing along my shoulder. I moaned a little at the distraction and ran my hand up into his hair, leaning back into him.
"Shhhh," Dean said into my neck, "Don't want to give Jefferson a free show," he whispered into my ear. I would have laughed if it weren't so frustrating at the same time. I just wanted to enjoy this time with Dean alone and here we were again, having to watch ourselves, but at least we had closed doors to hide behind this time. I suppose I could deal with that.
Dean was running his hands along my breasts, he squeezed a nipple through the fabric of my dress and I gasped at the electric thrill it sent through my body. Just when had this man gotten so good with his hands? I bit my lip and retracted the mental question. I didn't want to know, just enjoy the ride.
He seemed to be doing his best to make me moan loudly and I pulled away with a cheeky grin, turning to face him. Grabbing the waistband of his pants I pulled him over to the bed, and unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. He was only standing at half-mast and I grinned, perfect.
Dean's eyes were curious as I pushed him to the mattress, straddling him across his lap as his legs dangled off the bed. I took my time, hands running along his hard abs, tracing the lines there. I removed his t-shirt and sat back to admire the Adonis before me. I didn't get to do this much either, kind of hard to when John was always around. Whatever little pleasures we did find were often in the dark, under the covers, hidden in the wee hours of the early morning. This was a welcome change.
The lights were too much, so I got up to dim them, using the switch by the door. Dean lay on the bed watching me silently. Hungry eyes following my every move. I slipped out of the dress I'd worn to dinner, letting it fall to the ground, knowing just how good my lingerie set looked, especially in the dim lighting which made everyone look better. He took in a sharp breath and I saw his interest pique before me, coming to attention.
I grinned and prowled over to the bed, resuming my position over him. I trailed hot kisses along his neck and down his chest, taking a nipple in my mouth and clamping down on it softly. Dean gasped and arched his back against my mouth, his head rolling back into the mattress. I grinned, that was exactly the reaction I had been looking for.
"Shhhh," I whispered up to him, teasing him with his own words from earlier. He groaned again but this time a little quieter.
I trailed my tongue along his side, tasting the soft skin that I loved to run my hands along. Tonight I explored the same area with my lips and tongue, nipping and leaving kisses as I slipped lower and lower on his body. Dean looked up at me when he realised where I was heading, his hazel eyes were dark from unspoken desire. I smiled innocently at him and then blew a soft breath along his shaft, it twitched from the incredibly light sensation and Dean laid his head back with another small groan.
Encouraged, I settled in between his legs, running my hands along his thighs as I experimentally traced along his shaft with more light blowing. This was one thing I did have some idea about doing, although it had been a long time since I'd played around with my old teenage boyfriend Travis. My father would have killed me if he'd known what we got up to in the old town movie theatre when no one else was watching. Now I was just glad that I wasn't completely new to any of this.
Dean was watching me again, and I grinned up at him as I licked along his shaft from base to tip in one long drawn out motion. When I reached the top I swirled my tongue around the tip, before dropping to the base again and repeating the movement. Dean looked as if he'd stopped breathing, his arms lying beside him as he fought not to cry out from the sheer pleasure. I'd never done this to him before.
Slipping his tip into my mouth, I focused on it for a moment, swirling my tongue around, and massaging the shaft with my lips. Dean gasped again, his hands bunching in the sheets as he arched involuntarily at the touch. I slid him further into my mouth, slowly and carefully so as to avoid a gag reflex. When I hit the base of him with my lips I sucked on him a couple of times like a lollypop, this got an audible moan out of him, and he bucked against me.
My hands I trailed up along his abs, just loving the feel of him pushing up against me as I went to work, moving along his shaft, sliding him in and out, my lips I kept firmly around him, dragging them along the soft, engorged skin. I swirled my tongue around his tip whenever I reached the top, then slid back down and sucked, gliding up again, another flip of the tongue, only to repeat with a hard suck.
The movement was rhythmic and deliberate, I looked up to see Dean's eyes were clenched shut and his face was buried to the side in a pillow. He was breathing heavy and thrusting against my hands, trying not to jerk up whenever I got to the suck. He was trying so hard not to force the issue and just let me have control.
As his breathing reached an erratic point, I changed it up a little; this time when I slid down I took one of his balls into my mouth with an extremely gentle care.
"Oh God," Dean groaned, pulling a pillow over his head and moaning again. I grinned to myself and sucked it as if it might melt in my mouth if I worked too long. I moved to the other one, giving it equal treatment, they started to tighten with the excitement and it was enough for me to move back to my original attentions.
Dean's breathing had slowed a bit; I took it as a challenge. Running my tongue the length of his shaft, I once more slid my mouth over his tip, circling my tongue around the glans, and gently massaging it with my lips. Dean was moaning into the pillow again, it muffled his cries a little but not entirely.
As his breathing grew more and more erratic, I felt my own excitement start to trickle down my legs, and I moaned as I pulled him all the way into my mouth. My hands found themselves trailing down his stomach and under his buttocks, holding him to me as I sucked him fully. I swallowed once, my throat and mouth constricting around his shaft and Dean bucked, his hands coming back to clutch at the sheets, eyes on me again.
I didn't like to be watched, so I flipped my tongue around his shaft a few times, keeping him inside my mouth while I did. The movement threw him into another convulsion which saw Dean's head roll back against the bed, his knuckles white from the strain of not calling out his excitement. Feeling a little less self-conscious, I could now begin the final stage of bringing him to his finale.
Right now it was more about consistent, rhythmic movement, and I listened to his sharp intakes of breath, using his body movements to gauge the pace. Slowly at first I slid him in and out of my mouth, the same long trailing tongue and lips combination bringing a startled breath from him as he got higher and higher. As his breathing quickened, coupled with little sighs, so did my pace and I drew him into me, bit by bit, moment by moment.
His hips started to jerk under me, and I heard a soft hitch in his breath, short gasps coming as suddenly his hands buried in my hair, holding my head in place. I froze, unsure about what he wanted and he relaxed his hold on me realising I had startled. He didn't remove his hands, but I had movement of my head again. "Oh Beth, don't stop," he moaned, and I resumed my pace. It wasn't long until he was quivering under my touch.
When he reached his peak, he let out a long low groan, and thrust his hips up at me a little, I pulled him all the way in, letting my throat constrict around him as I swallowed and sucked on his entire erection. He convulsed underneath me, jerking up and I felt his release come, pumping into me. I swallowed, pushing him further into my mouth, as far as I could bear without gagging. He clutched at my hair and it felt wildly erotic to feel his hands on me like that, holding me to him.
He moaned, softly this time, falling lifeless back on the bed. I felt him soften in my mouth and gave another quick little suck earning a groan of protest from Dean. Grinning I slipped him out of my mouth and kissed along his thighs, up over his abs to his heaving chest where I splayed my hands and gently massaged the skin. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck, lying at his side, feeling the heat pulsing from his body. He rolled into me a little, pulling me close.
"That... was amazing," he murmured into my hair and it brought a smile to my face. "Where on earth did you learn to do that?" He asked suddenly, a slightly jealous tone underlying the comment.
I looked up at him and he was staring at me as if seeing a new facet to me he hadn't seen before. "Well, you know, like I said. I've had boyfriends in the past you know." I said to him, and his eyes darkened with the jealousy. I giggled at the thought of Dean Winchester, sex god who had slept with more than his fair share of girls getting jealous over me and my little list.
"I'm joking," I said, to save his manhood. "Girls magazines and romance novels can be incredibly descriptive, and give lots of good tips... I'm a fast learner," I said with a grin. He seemed to like this answer and rolled me, pinning me to the mattress with a long, lingering kiss.
"Your turn," he said with a cheeky grin, starting to kiss along my neck. I moaned and pulled the pillow over my head. I'd just spent ages torturing him, I knew from experience that I could look forward to the same from him. I groaned before he'd even reached my stomach with his kisses. Oh this was going to be sheer torture, and I knew it.
Stage 9 Movie Set
Beth's POV
We took our time getting to the set in the morning. I was supposed to be a movie star, I didn't do 6am starts. Dean wasn't leaving my side, and he was still grinning like a Cheshire cat, it was slightly unnerving. Still, the night had been a highlight of our very brief relationship so far, I had to admit that.
When I arrived the actors were filming again, starting with where they had left off the day before.
Tara's character Wendy entered the house, looking around in the shadows for her friends.
"Wendy?" Mitch asked, surprised.
"Oh, Mitch! God, you're alive!" Wendy said, throwing herself into his arms.
"You can't get rid of me that easy," he said, holding her to him.
"Rumble, rumble, rumble!" McG called out from his director's chair. The set came to life and the floor started to move underneath them.
"Salt. Ok, we need salt," Wendy said. "I read in that book that it keeps ghosts away." She glanced frantically about the house, looking for some.
"Kendra, Logan, you guys check the back," Mitch said to their friends.
Martin was behind me, whispering to Jay, one of the other producers.
"Jay, the poor bastard killed himself. Like, for real. Shouldn't we shut it down or something?" Martin asked.
"We had a moment of silence for him at breakfast. He was just a studio guy," Jay said.
"Shhh!" McG said to them, looking back from behind the camera as the filming continued.
"I love you," Wendy said to Mitch.
"I know," he said. The actor playing Mitch shone his flash-light directly in Tara's eyes and she flinched, breaking character.
"Sorry," He said, and I smirked. It wasn't easy keeping your flash-light out of people's eyes, we all had it down to a fine art by now, but I had been a total klutz at it when I first started going into dark and dangerous places with the Winchester's.
"Can we cut or something?" Tara asked, breaking out of character completely.
"Uh... yeah, cut. Cut!" McG called out.
Dean was wearing a headset he'd stolen off someone and he got excited at the announcement. "That's a cut!" He called out and then promptly shoved a taquito into his mouth. I shook my head at him, rolling my eyes.
McG got up and approached Tara. "Hey, what's up?"
"I'm sorry. I'm just a little upset." She said, running her hand through her hair.
"Well, with everything that's been going on around here, who can blame you?" McG said to her.
"I just can't wrap my head around the dialogue, you know? Salt? Doesn't that sound silly? I mean, why would a ghost be afraid of salt?" She asked. Beside me Dean smirked and continued to munch on his taquitos.
McG nodded, and turned toward us. "Okay, um, Marty?" McG said to the man sitting beside me.
"Yo," Martin said back to him.
"What do you think?" McG asked.
"Not married to salt, what do you want? We still sticking with condiments?" He asked and I had to fight to keep myself from laughing.
"If just sounds different, not better. What else would a ghost be afraid of?" McG asked. Walter, one of the other PAs muttered to himself from next to Dean.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," he said, shaking his head.
"What would a ghost be scared of? Maybe shotguns?" Marty asked Jay. I thought about our latest invention, rock salt infused ammo, to be used with shotguns – and suddenly the idea didn't sound as crazy as first appeared.
"OK, that makes even less sense than salt," McG said to Marty.
"These people are idiots," Walter said, and he turned and walked out.
Jefferson came up to us and Dean turned around. "Walter's a little testy for a PA, huh?"
"How's it going in here?" Jefferson asked casually, leaning against a pole and crossing his arms. He had this way of just being present, and comfortable, and yet blending in so that people didn't pay him too much attention at the same time.
"It is going really good, man. Tara's really stepped up her performance. I think it's probably from all the sense memory stuff she's drawing on." Dean said.
"Sense memory?" I asked sceptically, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah." He nodded.
"Dean, you know, I ask how it's going in here, I'm talking about the case right?" Jefferson said, his voice getting a little impatient. "We don't really work here."
"I thought you hated being a PA," I said to him.
"I don't know. It's not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know?" He said, holding out his plate to me. "Taquito? They're wonderful." I had a sneaky suspicion it was more about the food than anything else with Dean.
"OK, well listen, I conned my way into the morgue," Jefferson said.
"And?" Dean asked.
"News reports were right: Brad's a doornail, no question." He said, confirming that this time we were indeed dealing with a real dead person, unlike the last publicity stunt.
"Copy that.." Dean said into his headset. He looked at Jefferson. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Copy that?" Jefferson asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What did you say?" Dean asked.
"The news reports were right. Brad's a doornail.." Jefferson repeated himself.
Dean interrupted again. "They are aware." He said into his headset.
"Who's aware?" Jefferson asked me, looking confused. I shrugged.
"Don't ask me, he's been like this all morning," I muttered, shaking my head and sinking into my chair.
"I'm sorry," Dean said to Jefferson again. "What were you saying?"
"Uh..the newspaper is right: Brad's dead. No question about it." Jefferson said for the third time.
"I guess it's a good thing we didn't skip town then," Dean said, looking at me.
"Yeah," I muttered.
"Oh, come here. I want you to hear something," Dean said to Jefferson. I'd already heard it and I was convinced there was something more to the recording than what was being explained as bad feedback.
Dean took Jefferson to the audio guy. "Hey Dave, can you play him that thing you were playing me earlier?" Dean asked.
"Sure," Dave said with a shrug, handing Jefferson a set of headphones. I watched as Jefferson listened to the recording – half way through the dialogue the sound would become staticky and distorted. I knew when he'd reached it because he looked up, exchanging a curious glance with me.
"EVP," Jefferson said to us later when we were backstage.
"From the night of Brad's stage dive. All of a sudden, I'm getting electromagnetic readings up the wazoo. For some reason, it's a legit haunting now." Dean said, frowning and running a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Well, who's the ghost, Dean? What's it want?" I asked.
"I don't know. I think we should take a look at Brad's death scene." Dean said, and Jefferson nodded at the suggestion.
Dean led us outside to one of the trailers. Once inside he popped a DVD into the television.
"Hey, where'd you get this DVD?" I asked, leaning forward.
"They're called dailies. I got it from Cindy. She's kind of got this on-and-off thing going with Drew. He dubbed me an extra copy." Dean said, I shook my head, amazed at the stuff he could dig up, sometimes without even trying.
We watched the footage from the day before, including the unexpected entrance into the film.
"All right, here's where the guy fell through the roof." Dean said.
"Right," Jefferson said, nodding.
The footage showed Brad crashing through the ceiling of the set, hanging by a noose.
"Hey, wait, go back, go back," Jefferson said, pointing at the screen. Dean skipped back and played the film again. "Right after. Right. Wait. There." Dean paused and we were looking at a completely different set and standing in the far corner of the set is a ghostly white woman.
"It's like Three Men and Baby all over again." Dean muttered. I looked at him confused.
"What's your point?" I asked.
"There's a scene in the movie where people say that the camera caught a ghost on film. Apparently, in the background of one of the scenes, there was this boy that nobody remembers from set. Spirit photography." Dean explained.
"I've seen her before," Jefferson said thoughtfully, staring at the screen.
Moments later we were back in the studio, sitting at a table. Jefferson showed us a print out of an article.
"Check this out," he said. "Elise Drummond - starlet back in the thirties. Had an affair with a studio exec. He uses her up, fires her, leaves her destitute, so Elise hangs herself from Stage 9's rafters, right into a scene they're shooting."
"Just like our man, Brad. So, what, she's got it in for the studio brass?" Dean asked.
"Possibly. I mean, it's a motive. And Brad's death matches hers exactly." Jefferson said. I sighed and looked at Dean.
"We're digging tonight, aren't we?" I said. Jefferson nodded and Dean patted me sympathetically on the shoulder. I hated digging up graves at night time.
Hollywood Forever Cemetery
It was dark, as it always seemed to be when we went to dig up graves. The three of us were carrying shovels as we worked our way through the graves surrounding us.
"Which way?" Dean asked, and I glanced down at my map, handing him my shovel.
"Uh... over here." I said, leading the way. I stopped and grinned at Dean, and he paused.
"Look." I said, pointing at an honest to goodness grave for Humpty Dumpty.
Jefferson looked horrified and shook his head. Dean was grinning from ear to ear. "This map was totally worth the five bucks!" He exclaimed. "Hey, we've gotta go check out Johnny Ramone's grave when we're done here." He said.
"You wanna dig him up too?" I asked sarcastically.
"Bite your tongue heathen!" Dean said to me in a stern tone.
"You know guys, what I don't get is why now? I mean, after seventy-five years, Elise Drummond suddenly goes homicidal, you know? Why this movie?" I said, thinking out loud.
"Well, maybe she's mad they're making a scary ghost flick." Dean offered.
"Come on, is it really that scary?" I asked sceptically and Jefferson laughed.
We stopped in front of a headstone and I gestured. "Here we are."
We started digging and it was pretty straight forward from there. No ghost arrived to try and stop us, no security guard came and surprised us, Elvis didn't walk up and say 'hi'. Once we found the bones, they were salted and burned, and our work was done.
Stage 9 Movie Set
Next Morning
We found out the next morning that Jay had been killed over night. It had happened in a very gruesome way.
"Run-in with a giant fan. Same thing happened to an electrician back in '66, a guy named Billy Beard." Jefferson said to us.
"What the hell dude?" Dean asked, looking a little grossed out.
"I don't know. Doesn't seem like Elise this time, either. It's not her M.O." Jefferson said with a shrug.
"No, we already torched her. So, what, are we dealing with another ghost?" Dean said.
"Maybe," I said with a shrug.
"Yeah but these things don't usually tag-team," Jefferson said with a frown.
Outside in the lot McG had gotten out of his car. He gathered everyone, cast and crew together, and we lingered with the others.
"Everybody! Gather around, okay! I've got an announcement to make." He said, handing his keys over to a PA. "Hold that for me." He raised his arms in the air. "Everyone! Huddle in! In light of Jay's accident last night, and in cooperation with the authorities, we're shutting down production for a few days. I know, I know. Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. We've had a few setbacks this week. But we all know what Jay and Brad wanted more than anything. And that was to see Hell Hazers 2: The Reckoning on screens all across America! Now, we owe it to them to go on and to pull together and make this damn movie, huh?"
The speech was quick, and met with cheers and applause from the crowd.
"But not today. Go home. Someone will call you." McG finished, waving everyone off.
Later on Jefferson was back inside watching more of the dailies. We found him watching a piece of footage where Tara is struggling through her Latin.
"Hey," I said to him as I reached the screen.
"Hey," Jefferson said in a friendly tone. "So, you find out where the electrician's buried?"
"He wasn't. Billy Beard was cremated." Dean answered with a frown. Which of course posed the question – how was he haunting the set if his bones were already toast?
"Great, any suggestions what to do now?" Jefferson asked.
"No idea. Anymore ghost cameos in the dailies?" Dean said, looking at the screen.
"Not in the first six hours. You know, maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie because they think it sucks. Because, I mean, it kind of does." Jefferson said with a chuckle.
I was listening to Tara on the screen; she was reading the Latin again, if you could call it that. I hadn't caught it the first time because she really just was that bad at it. But something caught my attention. I rewound to the same part and listened closer.
"Listen to the invocation. Guys – that's the real deal – a necromantic summoning ritual." I said, eyes widening as I looked up. "What the hell is that doing in a Hollywood movie?"
We went looking for Martin. I found him in his office on the phone.
"No, dude, we're down for a few days - force majeure... Yeah. It's cool, though. Gives me time to pitch that time-travel thing. …. Yeah. All right, get back to me on this, all right? Seriously. ….. No, I'm serious. ….Dude, are you serious? 'Cause I'm serious." He looked up and smiled when he saw me at the door. I shifted uncomfortably at the attention. He'd been completely aloof the day after the date and I had been a little obsessed with Dean, so I hadn't thought too long and hard about it. "All right. Cool," he said, hanging up. "Rose... we're all shut down. What are you still doing here?"
"Yeah, uh... sorry, Marty. I couldn't help myself. I just had to tell you that I read the script." I said to him. He looked at me surprised and happy at the same time.
"And?" He asked.
"Yeah, it's uh, it's awesome." I said with a smile.
"I know, it's pretty rockin' right? I'm glad you liked it!" Marty said, coming around to stand in front of me.
"Yeah, I really liked the attention to detail." I said to him with a nod.
"Color me guilty, but that is me. I'm a total detail buff." He said to me with a grin.
"No, I can tell. I mean, the way you worked in all those Enochian summoning rituals and all the authentic language." I said, and his face fell, the smile fading. I realised that I had said the wrong thing.
"What, you mean that Latin crap? No, that's Walter. Walter Dixon, the original writer. You like that garbage?" He asked.
"Wait, Walter the PA, Walter?" I asked, looking confused
"No, he's not a P.A. He's got a clause in his contract that allows him to come on set." Martin said, frowning at me.
"But he wrote the invocations?" I asked.
"He wrote a whack-job screenplay. There's no pace, there's no love interest, it's all wackadoo exposition. I had to cut, like, ninety percent of it to make it readable, the other ten percent to make it good."
"Huh, well you did a great job Marty, it's the best." He smiled at me and my phone started ringing. It was Dean, I took the call, pretending it was my agent and excusing myself.
Dean looked sternly at me when I came out, I nodded. "Your buddy Walter has some explaining to do," I said.
An hour later we had tracked down an original script, the one Walter had written. It was called Lord of the Dead.
"Should've kept Walter's original script. It's actually pretty good." Dean said.
"Yeah. And it reads like a how-to manual of conjuration, like a textbook on how to summon ghosts and get them to do whatever you want." I said, looking at another page and grimacing.
"Yeah, like kill people." Dean said.
"Yep. So, let's say somewhere down the line, Walter learned some pretty black magic." I said, pacing in front of him, I didn't really like where this conversation was going.
"Yeah. And let's say he's pissed at these people for wrecking his movie." Dean said with a nod.
"Motive and means," Jefferson said, taking a seat in one of the director's chairs near us.
"It's worth checking out," Dean said.
Dean was loading up the gun with the new ammo we'd come up with while I'd been in recovery mode.
"Think this is gonna work?" I asked nervously, looking at the casings that contained rock salt.
"Of course it'll work, it was your idea." He said with a smile, leaning over to kiss me. "No time like the present to try them out."
I nodded nervously, but didn't argue. We closed up the Impala, and went in search of Walter.
We found him in amongst a forest setting at Stage 9 with Martin.
"You know, the history, the lore in my draft was completely accurate. We could've gotten it right for the first time ever in this whorehouse of a town. But you tore it to shreds. You replaced it with cleavage and fart jokes. It was real." Walter said to Martin, who was looking confused.
"Who gives a rat's ass about "real"? We're talking about ghosts here, Walter. There's no such thing." Martin said.
"That's where you're wrong, Martin." Walter said. He held up a talisman and started chanting in Latin, it was flawless, and he knew what he was doing. Martin rolled his eyes at Walter.
"Okay, nutjob. End of the meeting." I watched as he turned and came face-to-face with a ghost. Martin screamed at the sight and fell to the floor. He started to get dragged back toward the giant fans that had killed Jay – they were suddenly working and droning at us menacingly.
"Oh, God, no! Please, no!" Martin cried out and we were moving, shotguns in hand.
"You ruined it, Martin! Everything I worked for!" Walter yelled. "Now you're gonna find out what being a ghost is really like."
"Walter, please! Walter, help me!" Martin called out.
Dean rushed ahead of me, and pointed the shotgun at the spirit, firing. Instantly it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Dean turned and grinned at me. "Hey it worked!" I smiled and turned off the fan, relieved.
"You are one hell of a PA!" Martin said as Dean helped him to his feet.
"Yeah, I know," Dean said with a chuckle.
"What are you doing?" Walter asked us, staring.
"I could ask you the same thing Walter," I said, walking up to him. Walter scampered off, climbing the stairs to the scaffolding.
""Raising these spirits from the dead? Making them murder for you? That's playing with fire, Walter." I said, following him.
"You don't understand!" Walter said.
"You know what? You're right, I don't understand." I said, shaking my head.
"Just... wait, look. You put your heart and soul into something, years of hard work. It's years, and then they take it! And they crap all over it! And then they want you to smile and say, "Thank you"." Walter was rambling, completely convinced of his argument.
"Walter, listen. It's just a movie. That's it." I said, reaching out to him.
"Look... I've got nothing against you, you're a great actress. You're not part of this. Just please, please, just leave. But Martin's gotta stay." He said, looking over at the screenwriter.
"Sorry, can't do that. It's not that we like him or anything, it's just a matter of principle." Dean said.
"Then I'm sorry, too." Walter said, raising the talisman again.
"Walter. Walter, pl- don't." I said, trying to connect to the guy.
He began chanting and the set was shaking under our feet. To the side of me three ghosts appeared, looking cold and menacing.
"Beth!" Dean shouted to me and raised his gun. The ghosts, all looking deformed in one way or another, started to walk closer. "Come on! Come on!" Dean muttered and I looked around, I was cut off from Dean by them.
Suddenly they disappeared, and I was knocked to the floor by an invisible force. I found myself panicking, it had only been 10 weeks since a poltergeist threw me out a window, and here I was about to be killed by a couple of ghosts. Right when my life had started to pick up!
Jefferson reached my side, pulling me to my feet with a look of concern. "Come on, come on, move!"
Martin was with us and we started to run away from the ghosts, Dean following close behind. Lights on the set started to crack and sizzle as they burst one after the other We ran into another building and shut the door behind us. Dean reloaded the shotgun and grinned at me.
"Come out to the coast! We'll get together, have a few laughs!" He said, quoting John McClane from Die Hard down to a tee. I laughed and kissed him quickly, Martin gaped at the display of affection. We loved those movies.
Dean looked around and then realised we didn't actually have any shelter; the house we were in was just an abandoned set and was open at the back.
"Oh man!" Dean said looking at the gaping hole behind us.
"I can't believe this. Ghosts are real!" Martin said, looking astounded. He was staring at me as if wondering just how it was that a big shot movie star like me was going along with all this.
"What makes you say that?" Jefferson asked sarcastically.
"But I don't understand. How is Walter controlling them?" Martin asked.
"Probably that talisman," I said, looking at Jefferson and Dean, they nodded.
Jefferson had pulled out his phone and was holding it in front of him.
"What are you doing?" I asked him, frowning.
"If film cameras pick these things up, then... maybe..." Jefferson used his camera to scan the room we were in. Suddenly he flinched and pointed.
"Dean! Right there!" He said. Dean didn't question, just aimed and shot in the direction that Jefferson pointed.
"Got him," Jefferson confirmed. I hoisted my own shot gun up and looked around. Jefferson continued to look around with his phone. "There! Right there!" He said. This time I fired and the ghost disappeared.
I was feeling sore from the knock I'd received, my side aching again. I grimaced and put a hand to it. Dean tossed me a worried look. We spotted Walter on a walkway above us and Jefferson handed his phone to Martin.
"Here, you got the idea?" He asked, and Martin nodded. "All right, you hold them off. I'm going after Walter." Just like that he bounded across the room up the ladder to the next lot of scaffolding.
"I cannot believe there's an afterlife!" Martin said incredulously.
"Oh there's an afterlife, all right. But mostly, it's a pain in the ass," Dean said, complaining.
It wasn't long before Jefferson reached Walter up on the second level. I watched in combined horror and fascination as Jefferson stalked up to him, and they exchanged words. Walter ran out the door and out a back exit. Dean, Martin and I ran for the exit while Jefferson followed him. We reached them after another exchange was had between Jefferson and Walter. The next thing I knew Walter had thrown the talisman on the ground, breaking it. I looked at Dean and he shared my expression of horror.
"Oh I wouldn't have done that if I were him," Dean said.
"Why not?" Martin asked, looking at him.
"Because he just freed them, we can't stop them now. And he brought them back, made them murder for him. They're not going to be very happy with him." I said.
Suddenly Walter fell to the ground screaming in pain. Blood began to seep through his clothing he was wearing. Martin raised the cell phone to look and grimaced at the sight before him. I didn't want to see, I just didn't want to know.
Later That Day
Martin had rewritten the script of the movie. It now had cellphones as ghost detectors, and shotguns with rock salt to fight them with. He was loving the new direction of the movie, and things were definitely looking up for him. I'd rolled my eyes at the idea and how quickly Martin had been to jump on and take advantage of how we'd saved him – milking it for his own profit.
Dean and I slunk out of the trailer with satisfied looks on our faces. We'd taken full advantage of the seemingly abandoned trailer and escaped for a few hours once the immediate danger had subsided.
Martin happened to be walking by as we exited; he saw us and stopped, looking at me curiously.
"Wow, you are one hell of a PA," he said to Dean, clearly referencing the fact that in the last 24 hours Dean had saved his life AND now was sexually servicing the actress he thought I was.
"Thank you," Dean said with a smirk. I laughed and shook my head.
"Hey Rose, it's been really nice seeing you again," Martin said, dismissing what he'd just seen. I stepped down and nodded, starting to walk with Dean.
"So, I have a friend who's making this remake... it's gonna be huge!" Martin said. I inclined my head.
"Oh yeah?" I said.
"Yeah! And I think you'd be great for the role of the temple priestess!" He said.
I looked at him with a shocked expression. "You want me to play a whore?" I asked.
He looked stunned. "No! No, no, no! Not that type of temple priestess. The temple priestess. Briseis." I stared at him, the name familiar to me; it was one of my favourite classical stories.
"Your friend is making a movie about Troy?" I asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
"You'd be playing opposite Brad Pitt!" Martin said. I liked the idea of that and threw a grin at Dean.
"I see, well, it sounds intriguing Marty. Have him call my office and set up a reading." I said, and then I stepped back and took Dean's arm.
"Yeah, ok! Thanks again Rose! Take care!" I waved at him and chuckled as we walked away.
"Man, that'll be so funny if he really does call her." Dean said with a laugh.
"Stranger things have happened," I agreed, smiling.
"God I love this town!" Dean said, walking me into the sunset, his arm wrapped tightly around me. He held me and I laid my head on his shoulder as we walked. Suddenly the sunset rippled in front of us and moved to the side, revealing instead the rooftops of Hollywood before us. It was all a set and we were leaving it behind. Back to the real world for us, and not a moment too soon.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: All Star by Smash Mouth
If anyone has any ideas for little one-shots, I'm all ears, please leave them in a review or send me a PM – I'm likely to do them all at some point! Someone gives me an idea and I'm just running with it most of the time.
OK short one next time, I'm still away, I just happened to get most of this done last night before I left. My sleep deprived brain thanks you for any reviews/PMs you leave :D
Big thanks to EarthhAngel, as always for bouncing ideas off, lots of laughs, and proofreading :D Go check out her story How To Save A Life for John & Cole action, plus some Dean & Beth pre-relationship stuff too (set about 3 months before this story)
I couldn't resist putting in a little comment around Rose Byrne, she's the actress I've had in mind since pretty much the beginning for Beth. I love her! This would have been around the time she played Dorme in Star Wars Attack of the Clones. And who could resist the idea that maybe Dean & Beth were responsible for her getting the part in Troy? haha