[identity profile] roncha78.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] popslash_lollipops
Since the guy has killed me repeatedly today, I would like a JC/female based on

Anyone? Please? :)
From: [identity profile] callsigns.livejournal.com
"That's great, love." The camera shutter whirred and clicked, and the flash was a quick, blinding glare, but JC didn't even blink. He kept a lazy smile aimed at the set photographer, who fiddled with the lens and took a few more shots. "Nearly done now, just one more."

"Take your time," JC smiled, and the photographer nodded briefly, her face mostly hidden by the camera. JC suppressed a yawn and stretched an arm out along the back of the couch.

"Not bored, are you?" The girl leaned forward to take another picture. "You enjoying your visit?"

"I am, I am." JC crossed one leg over the other, still trying to get comfortable on the sofa - the material was scratchy, and it wasn't nearly tall enough to provide any kind of back support. The furniture on these shows was almost always really bad. He didn't get that. All shows should have big beds to chill in, or La-Z-Boys, or something. But whatever. He smiled again at the girl, sorta hoping she was done with the pictures, but sorta not caring. "I dig the UK; y'all are real friendly over here."

"We are?" The girl grinned at him, lowering the camera. "I mean, we are, yeah." She half-turned away, messing with something on the equipment. "Alright then, love, I think we're done here; you're free to go," she told him, not looking his way.

"Great, thanks." He didn't get up, though - he kept sitting, looking at the girl as she unslung the camera from around her neck. She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I'd say 'take a picture, it'll last longer,' but that's really too expected, isn't it?"

JC laughed. He loved it when they weren't freakin' intimidated, when they were willing to joke around. Took the pressure off. "Cop a squat, girl, you look tired." He smiled at her bewildered look, and patted the cushion next to him. "Sit down, I mean."

A faint blush spread over the girl's cheeks - huh, guess she wasn't as untimidated as he thought. "Thanks doll, but no. Work to do, bills to pay, you understand," she said lightly, with a little toss of her head. Her springy brown curls bounced off her shoulders, and he had the sudden desire to see if they felt as shiny-soft as they looked.

"Dedicated to your work, I can dig it." He rose then, and crossed to the girl, bending his head to speak quickly and quietly in her ear. "How about after work? You got plans?"

"Oh, um . . ." the girl flushed again, prettily, and JC went ahead and put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes cut over to where his thumb rested on the outer edge of her collarbone, and then darted back to his face. "I really shouldn't, you know. Might get in trouble." She wasn't trying to escape from under him, though. She was down, he could feel it.

"Nah, no trouble. I guarantee it." He spoke warmly. This chick's number was in the bag. "Just a good time. Dancing. Drinks. You know, fun."

"Mmm, fun," she mused. "Yes, I've heard of it."

"So I can call you?" He didn't even have to hold his breath for it. In the fuckin' bag.

"You can call me." She dug in her pocket for a pen and paper, and when she handed her name and number over to him, her smile was bright and confident, just how he liked it. He wondered how that smile would taste, and knew he'd know by the end of the night.
From: [identity profile] callsigns.livejournal.com
no prob, babes . . . maybe next time, i'll work up the gumption to go even further . . *gasp* :)

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