Done for the prompt Cheiloproclitic - Being attracted to someones lips. Photo shoots are serious business, right? Not with these two involved. Pre-SR3.

V made a face. Made one, then another as she tried like hell not to fidget, and failed. Her spot on Johnny's lap didn't give her too many options, but she was finding it hard to care as the spotlights threatened to blind her. Too many redos for the photo shoot had already been called by the director, leaving her ready to ooze into the floor out of sheer boredom. With nowhere to go or move to, the two were essentially confined to one spot and told to grin and bear it.

Loud 'suggestions' paired with the bright lights bearing down on them only served to be the icing on the cake, and although V could bullshit her way through it well enough, Gat had a threshold. One that never took much to meet, and every tip pitched their way pushed him closer to that limit. Tested him and his already thin patience, and she had a feeling today was shaping up to be a winner.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she tried to find a comfortable position to shift into, and she tried not to think about the fingers pressing into her hip.

"They still going at it?" Johnny asked, giving up to lean back against the couch.

The loud yelling happening in the hallway carried more than enough for them to pick the words out, and cameraman they were stuck with couldn't stop fidgeting on his feet. Though the stare the pair of them were currently leveling at him wasn't helping any.

"Yep." Gat pulled her with him, and she couldn't help but lean into his shoulder as they waited. Draping her arm around the back of his neck, her fingers idly toyed with the collar of his shirt as the argument grew in volume.

"About the lighting?"

She blew at a strand of hair, but it fell right back into place. "Oh, yeah. Pierce is letting him have it. It's pretty damn amazing."

"But we're still on?"

"Uh, yes." The frown grew severe, and V wasn't sure what to say. "You want out? I think I can cover for you if you want to book it to the exit."

"No point. We'll be back to this shit the following day, and I'm not going back in there."

"The dressing room? Really? You got the easy end of things," she muttered, looking him over with envy. He was wearing jeans. She would've killed for that alone, but the pinstriped shirt he was wearing left her stewing for a good minute when they walked out to start the shoot. "Seriously, did they raid your closet? I think I remember you buying this."

She flicked at one of the buttons and he shrugged. Half of them were already undone, and she was seeing more of his chest than was strictly necessary. That, and the way the muscles in his stomach tensed and relaxed with every motion. Two points of interest that she did not need to notice with him this damn close.

"Anyway," she said quickly, tearing her eyes off of him, "you're fucking gold, because you don't have this to worry about." The short red dress was already running high enough to raise eyebrows, but any higher and there would be no hiding the line of her garters. "And these things?" She turned her hands over and arched her fingers to accentuate her inch-long, violently bright purple fingernails. "I feel like I've got kitten mittens on. Can't do a damn thing."

"You agreed to it."

She pursed her lips, and met the glare he shot her way with one of her own. "And? I can't bitch about it?"

"No."

"Come on. Not even a little?"

She inclined her head ,and pouted just enough for the corner of Gat's mouth to edge down even further. "Fuck no."

"Well, too bad. You're going to hear me do it anyway." Her thumbnail clicked against the nail on her index finger, and she saw Johnny cringe. "Should've opted for something shorter. Or gloves. Yeah, gloves would've been the ticket."

She shook her hands out, and he chuckled. "Sure. Wouldn't have had you flapping your arms like a fucking chicken, though." Narrowing her eyes, V traced one of her nails up the side of one of his tattoos, and nearly fell off of him when he jumped. "Keep those fucking things up and off of me, or I'm sanding them down one by one."

She grinned. "Ooh, touchy, touchy."

The wary look he gave her over the edge of his sunglasses quickly switched to irritation, but he didn't shove her away or pin her arms down. Only kept on watching her, and when she wiggled her fingers at him, his jaw twitched. "I knew those were motherfucking creepy for a reason."

The second part of the shoot called for her to change into a purple number. Something with a long, flowing skirt that made her almost stumble over it on the way back. The snicker from Gat made her flip him off immediately, but when she noticed the suit, she couldn't help but look him over. Suits – and uniforms – were her kryptonite, and Johnny was Johnny. It'd be a shame not to look, or at least that's what she told herself when they got into position on the bed.

"We skipped groceries this week, didn't we?" she asked once the shoot was underway.

Johnny paused as he leaned forward over her legs, and raised an eyebrow. "Thought you had that done?"

"...I thought it was your turn." He gave her a look, and V tried not to hit her head against the cushions. "Dammit."

"Yo, we had this set," he said, keeping himself propped up on one arm as he lowered his glasses. "First week of the month's you. Second, me. Third Pierce, and then Shaundi, and it always cycles back."

"I know, I know, I just...it slipped my mind."

"Did last time too."

"Hey!" she objected. "My memory's not that bad!"

"Oh? I think it's fucking worse than what you're telling me."

He moved closer, and V planted her heel on his chest. "Shut up."

The look of surprise turned into a slow grin, and when his fingers wrapped around her ankle, she shivered. Watched those lips continue to curve into a full-blown smirk and wished she could hate it. "You know I'm right, V."

His grip remained light, but his hand was still warm against her skin.

The cameras flashed while she pushed him back, and she hoped that whatever shade of red her face was could be fixed in post-production.

"The hell are we selling again?"

"Perfume." V thought it over for a second, and twisted her mouth. "I think. Or hell, maybe the condoms. The bed gave me some mixed messages, but it's all advertising bullshit anyway."

Gat groaned, and when the director barked at them both to get into position again she caught the tail end of the sneer Johnny sent his way. "How many more of these do we have?"

She grimaced. "I lost count."

He grit his teeth, and when Pierce dragged the director back into the hall, V tapped her nails on Johnny's shoulder. He was back in the shirt from earlier, the one that he deliberately left unbuttoned enough to make anyone's eyes wander, and she pursed her lips. Tried not to smudge her lipstick, but began chewing at her lip anyway as the yelling only grew louder.

After a few minutes, she felt his eyes move over her. His breath tickled her skin as they sat there, and she counted the seconds one by one as her mouth went dry.

"This is hell, isn't it?" she asked idly, tugging at his collar. His hand had settled into a comfortable place on her waist, and the moment she touched him, he tensed. "Or would purgatory fit better?"

He didn't answer, but when her nails skimmed his neck, she only had enough time to yelp before he gathered her up and stood. One of the fake purple things nearly snapped off when she grabbed for his shirt, and he deposited her in front of the photographer, before storming right past him.

"Hey!" The guy took a step after Johnny, but didn't pursue. "You can't-"

"Fuck off," Gat shot, heading towards the doors.

Her arms pinwheeled while she regained her balance, and both of her hands rested on her knees as she watched him kick the doors to the hall open. The yelling cut off soon after. "Great. I had such high hopes for this one."

"This one?" The guy swallowed, and let out a laugh. "What happened to the last?"

"Better not to know, hon," V replied, waggling her eyebrows. "Let's just say there's a damn good reason we've started requiring a waiver."