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Geoffrey Tennant ([info]unhingedrapier) wrote in [info]utr_logs,
@ 2009-09-11 15:06:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:ellen fanshaw, geoffrey tennant

Caught Up
Who: Geoffrey Tennant, Ellen Fanshaw and the agent of the gay retired model Geoffrey replaced
What: Someone didn't get the memo their client's gone.
Where: At Geoffrey's home in Luton, England
When: This morning
Warnings: Language, probably.


Geoffrey's in an obscenely good mood.

Those don't happen very often. And even less rarely do they happen in the morning hours. It probably doesn't hurt that he's gotten laid with startling frequency this last week or so, along the prospect of starting his own theatre up again without the irritating corporate involvement that the New Burbage festival so readily courted. No whiny executive complaining about the cost of installing a thrust. No ridiculous numbers of boxes of notes written by Oliver on a play he's never really liked all that much.

And oh, most importantly, no Oliver.

One could almost say he's approaching normalcy, as he pads around the ridiculously large kitchen in his bare feet, boxers and a pale green t-shirt this morning, his unruly dark hair the only potential giveaway to his sometimes unstable personality, carting around a mug of coffee while he seeks something for breakfast that he can make without potentially burning the house down.

It'll probably be toast. Again.



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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:09 am UTC (link)
By now, he is leaning on the counter next to the thawing phone, which is puddling around itself rapidly, with his face buried in his hand.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 07:11 am UTC (link)
"She's gone. She went away." Ellen sucks in her lower lip as she moves to rest a hand on Geoffrey's shoulder. "I made her go away."

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:14 am UTC (link)
A deep breath in, and he drops his hand from his face, his expression somewhere between relief, exasperation and petulant sulk. "Are we done talking about my wang with complete strangers today?"

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 07:17 am UTC (link)
"I think," she says slowly, "that we're done with complete strangers today, period." Her hand slides across his shoulder, then moves down his back. She rubs his back slowly for a while in silence.

"Does that mean we can talk about your wang when nobody else is here?"

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:25 am UTC (link)
"Do we need to be talking about it at all?" he asks, faintly incredulous.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 07:26 am UTC (link)
She shakes her head, slowly, then leans forward to demonstrate that speech, of any kind, is not in fact necessary at this moment.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:33 am UTC (link)
He hasn't shaved yet this morning, she'll realise. But his tension slowly ebbs from his frame as she absorbs him in her kiss.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 07:35 am UTC (link)
"Geoffrey," she whispers as the kiss ends, "my feet are getting wet." She shakes one leg, scattering icy droplets across the rest of the floor. "Do we have a mop?"

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:41 am UTC (link)
Geoffrey and domesticity don't tend to mix. "I don't know," he shrugs, then reaches past her for a dish towel and drops it on the floor.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 05:29 pm UTC (link)
She looks down at the dishtowel, as if she has never seen fabric soak up water before, then looks back up at Geoffrey. "Well," she says thoughtfully, "we could just go upstairs and not-talk about your wang."

Her arms slip around his waist as she rests her head on his shoulder.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 07:28 pm UTC (link)
The phone continues to thaw.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Geoffrey sighs, still on edge after that unexpected experience. "I have work to do, Ellen."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 07:51 pm UTC (link)
The ultimate trump card. Especially considering that his current work would be a showcase for her.

One arm slips away from his waist. "All right." Inspiration strikes. "Since we're married now, why don't I pretend to be a traditional wife this morning and make you breakfast?"

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 08:05 pm UTC (link)
"That sounds like an eminently demanding role," he replies. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 08:08 pm UTC (link)
"Geoffrey, have you ever known me to back away from an acting challenge?" She draws herself up to her full height, looking as dignified as she can in a yukata with nothing worn underneath. "Go sit down. I'm going to make you an omelette. And it will be delicious. Probably disgustingly healthy, too, considering what I have to work with here."

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-12 08:20 pm UTC (link)
"Back away from, no - be late for? Always," he notes, as he moves out of the kitchen, pausing to lift one foot with a wordless declaration of surprise as he steps in another rogue puddle of icy water.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-12 11:37 pm UTC (link)
"I can't be late with this role," she declares, moving to the refrigerator to investigate the contents once more. "There's no real deadline, and no one else but you is involved, so therefore I cannot be late." With such sophistry at her command, she begins pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator, humming a jaunty tune as she works.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-13 12:03 am UTC (link)
Geoffrey heads gingerly towards the table, shaking his offended foot as he goes before he sits down. "In other words, I should probably go get a good book."

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-13 12:08 am UTC (link)
"I doubt Thorn had any." She searches the cabinets, pots and pans clattering as she goes. "For all we know he was barely literate. A prettyboy who got filthy stinking rich for posing and pouting. While real artists starve. Is that fair? I ask you, is that fair?"

With a wordless noise of triumph, she retrieves an omelet pan and sets it on the stovetop.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-13 12:13 am UTC (link)
He leans forward in his chair, his chin almost resting on the table. Then he frowns. "What the fuck is a DILF?"

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-13 12:17 am UTC (link)
"Daddy I'd like to fuck," she translates absentmindedly as she finishes beating three eggs together. The eggs sizzle as she pours them into the omelet pan. "As opposed to a MILF."

She begins chopping mushrooms with more flair than efficiency.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-13 12:27 am UTC (link)
Geoffrey's forehead comes down to thunk on the table's surface.

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-13 12:41 am UTC (link)
Ellen checks to make sure that sound is not the start of Geoffrey banging his head against the table, then begins chopping up green peppers. "Well, you are fuckable," she points out.

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-13 12:59 am UTC (link)
He had to ask.

He lifts his head, a somewhat childish frown crossing his adult features. "Does that make me old?"

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[info]dame_ellen
2009-09-13 01:03 am UTC (link)
Ellen gives a little bark of laughter, tossing her head back for a moment. "Geoffrey, does being fuckable make me old? God, I hope not." She scrapes the mushrooms and green peppers off the cutting board into the pan, trying to spread them evenly across half the eggy contents. "Look." She sets the cutting board down and crosses over to the table. "You are magnificent, Geoffrey. You're only going to get more distinguished-looking with age. Years from now we'll walk down the street together, and people will ask, 'Who's that DILF and what's he doing with that hag?'"

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[info]unhingedrapier
2009-09-13 01:12 am UTC (link)
Geoffrey groans, his head dropping back to the table. It's an acronym he'd be quite content never to hear again. "Oh, God."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

(no subject) - [info]dame_ellen, 2009-09-13 01:16 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]unhingedrapier, 2009-09-13 01:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]dame_ellen, 2009-09-13 01:30 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]unhingedrapier, 2009-09-13 01:33 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]dame_ellen, 2009-09-13 01:34 am UTC

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