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beansideTitle: As Negative As I Am
Rating: R
Pairing: CMM/JDM
Disclaimer: This never happened. Really. Only in my brain.
A/N: Still going strong. The previous parts can be found here.
If there was one thing he should be doing right now, Jeff thought, it probably wasn't reading a script he knew he wouldn't have time to do. The house settled, groaning softly around him, and Bisou shifted against his legs, making a little doggie snuffling noise in her sleep.
He'd gotten used to only having this time of morning to himself while he was doing Grey's and Supernatural-stolen minutes just after dawn. Somehow, even with a normal shooting schedule, he found himself awake and prowling the house most mornings.
It wasn't a big deal today. He was due in at noon for some bullshit thing with NBC execs, to finish hammering out his deal for Shonda's new show. That was, of course, assuming said show ever happened.
Sure, he thought, it was Shonda, so it probably would, but there was always that niggling little doubt.
Did you really think they wanted you? They'll find someone younger and hotter and you'll be back to scraping by.
No matter how many scripts he'd gotten, or how much money he'd managed to squirrel away into retirement funds, he always ended up coming back to years of eating ramen, of scrambling to make rent, and clipping coupons and watching sales. He was hot right now. It could all go away in a heartbeat. He never forgot that.
The sun had risen high over the canyon as he read, and Bisou lifted her head, watching him through one barely opened eye before deciding that sleep was more interesting.
"Good girl," Jeff murmured. "I'll make you breakfast in a bit."
The phone shrilled and she lifted her head, giving him a withering glance. Well, make it stop, Dad, it seemed to say.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Jeff. Glad you're awake," Kim murmured. "How's it going in LA?"
"It's good. What's up?" If one of the executive producers of Supernatural was calling, it probably wasn't good.
Kim hesitated. "We have a little situation, and I was hoping you might be willing to help."
"What's wrong? Boys okay?"
"Jen and Jay are fine, it's actually Murray-"
"Chad? What's going on?"
"He's been doing the two shows for the last eight weeks, you know. And One Tree Hill isn't making it easy on him. Sure, they said they'd help out, but damn near every other day, they're finding an "extra shot" or realizing that one of the ones he filmed isn't good enough. He's been flying back and forth so much, I'm amazed he knows which set he's supposed to be on," Kim said. "Plus, he's been doing a couple reshoots for us lately, which hasn't helped."
"I can imagine. I had a bitch of a time, and you guys and Grey's couldn't have been nicer about it. So what happened?"
"He finally hit the end of his endurance and crashed. Jared says he fell asleep, but that's the deepest sleep I've ever seen. I'm betting he passed out."
"Is he in the hospital?"
"Nah. Jen and Jay took him home, promised to watch him. You know as well as I do, if they did the hospital, they'd term it "exhaustion," which is a Hollywood phrase for "total druggie." Chad's got enough issues without the network giving him shit."
"So what do you need?"
"Well, here's the thing. I went to the network, and told them that we wanted Chad for the rest of the season. I think we're going to have his loup garou stalk the boys for a while, he can guest next season, get killed off. One Tree didn't like that idea much."
"I'll just bet," Jeff muttered.
"So, we had to give a little. Namely, if you'll do it, a guest spot on One Tree Hill that they can publicize to the hilt, try to suck in some ratings for their last five shows," Kim snorted.
"I've got a meeting with NBC and Shonda later, I can see what I can do-"
"Already been there, done that. They're willing since you're not going to be filming for them until next season. Chad'll have to give Shonda a guest shot on one of her shows next season, a big cross promotion with SciFi. Look dude, I know it's a lot to ask. But I've got Jensen threatening to throw a diva bitch fit if I don't do something, and I didn't even know he liked the sonofabitch."
"Jensen? Seriously? Must be pretty bad, then. Yeah, I can add a guest shot to my contract with CW. I'm not doing anything else but post production on the movie, so I'm pretty available."
"Cool. Thanks, man. I'll owe you one. When you're up here in March, we'll go out and I'll buy you a beer and a joint."
Jeff laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Just let me know when I need to book a flight to North Carolina."
He hung up and glanced at the clock. Nearly eleven. He'd better put his ass in gear. He'd call Jensen later to check on Chad. Stupid little bastard, letting himself get that run down.
Yeah, because he was such a great role model for that particular trick.
His phone rang as the car was pulling onto the freeway, Jensen's cell phone showing up on the caller ID.
"How's Chad?"
"Hello to you too, Morgan. He'll be fine in a couple days."
"You sure you shouldn't take him somewhere?"
"Nah. He's fine. Honestly, I don't think he's any worse than you were. You just were too damned stubborn to crash." Jensen was quiet for a moment. "I heard that you were willing to help him out though. Thanks."
"Aw, Jen. I didn't know you cared."
"I don't. But he was freaking Jared out. And that, I do care about."
"Umhmm," Jeff rumbled.
"Don't give me that. What about you? Last I heard, Junior insulted the fuck out of you and tried to give you a blow job. Now you're best buddies?" Jensen drawled.
"I wouldn't say best buddies. He's a good kid. Kid being the operative. And we all make stupid mistakes.
Devour ringing any bells, Jen?"
"Fuck you, Jeff. At least it wasn't Six."
Jeff laughed. "Amen to that. But c'mon, once you get past all the alpha bullshit, he's not a bad kid. Hell, my mother loves him."
"Awww...is she picking out china patterns for you two yet?"
"She would if I'd let her. For a woman who wasn't real happy with the whole bi thing, she's gotten pretty damn hung up on the whole 'get Jeff settled' thing. She whipped out the guilt trip when I went to pick up Bisou a couple months ago."
"Which one?"
Jeff sighed. "The 'Your father and I won't live forever, you know. I want to know that you have someone special when we're gone' guilt trip. Dude, they're in their sixties, not their fucking eighties!"
Jensen laughed. "Yeah. But they love you. They want you to be happy."
"I know. I am happy, though. I've got my girl." He glanced up as they pulled into the parking lot. "Okay, gotta go, Jen. I'm heading into a meeting with the execs for Shonda. Do me a favor. When he wakes up,
have him give me a call."
"Will do. Knock 'em dead, Jeff."
Jeff hung up and slipped out of the car, fixing the public smile onto his lips.
The meeting went as well as could be expected. Shonda pushed the execs for the stuff she wanted, they balked about money, Shonda trotted him out like her prize pony, he signed his contract, they gave on some stuff, denied others, and three hours later, he got to go home and shower. He loved acting. No question there. And he liked eating, too. So this job was a good thing.
But goddamn. It was easier when it didn't feel like whoring. He'd always thought that once you 'made it,' things got easier. And in some respects, they had. People sent him scripts with parts that went beyond 'second policeman.' That was nice. But this...there were going to be literally hundreds of people who depended on this show for their jobs. Depended on him. It was a little terrifying.
At least he had his girl either way. He took her out for a nice long run along the beach and settled in with her on the couch to watch a couple of movies. Nothing exciting, but it worked for him.
The next morning, he woke up on the sofa with drool on his leg and a crick in his back, and a cell phone shrilling in his ear. He cleared his throat, and sat up, ignoring Bisou's dirty look.
"Am I your pillow now?"
Her look said plainly that yes, he really was.
Jeff flipped the cell phone open. "Morgan."
"Hey, Jeff," Chad murmured, voice scratchy, still sleepy. It made Jeff's brain go to places it wasn't allowed to go, of Chad all sleep-warm and tired. He'd bet on the little asshole being a snuggler, somehow.
"Hey, how're you feeling?"
"Better. Amazing what twenty-some hours of sleep'll do for you." Chad laughed without any real humor. "I just keep getting farther in debt to you, Morgan."
"No debt," Jeff rumbled. "You're a friend. When I can, I try to help my friends out."
Chad was quiet for a moment. "Thanks. Seriously. If you ever need a kidney or something, just call."
"Will do. So, I'll see you next week, I understand."
"Yeah. They e-mailed me my big death scene and all. I'm going to spend that day drinking, let me tell you."
"Oh. Have they decided what they want me for yet?"
Chad snorted. "Yeah. You get to play the EMT who tries to save my dumb ass. You should consider taking up drinking, too."
"That bad?"
"Dude, check your e-mail."
Jeff wandered over, flipping on his screen and settled in front of it, clicking his e-mail. Sure enough, there was a pdf file of script pages waiting for him.
He read through it quickly. "You gotta be kidding. Are they really going to make you...wait, fuck that. Are they going to make me spout this bullshit?"
"Awww...the mighty Jeffrey Dean Morgan has to lower himself? Nah, it'll get polished some by next week. Don't worry. Besides, no one says you have to list it on your resume. I sure as fuck won't."
"Just this episode, or all four seasons?"
"Hmm...think anyone'd buy a coma?"
"Only for House Of Wax," Jared called in the background.
Jeff laughed softly. "Guess that's a no."
"Yeah. Anyway. Thanks again. Tell Bisou I said hello."
"Will do. Tell Joe the same. I'll see you soon."
"Okay, Jeff. Bye."
Jeff hung up the phone and stared at the screen for a few minutes before he finally moved again.
Rating: R
Pairing: CMM/JDM
Disclaimer: This never happened. Really. Only in my brain.
A/N: Still going strong. The previous parts can be found here.
If there was one thing he should be doing right now, Jeff thought, it probably wasn't reading a script he knew he wouldn't have time to do. The house settled, groaning softly around him, and Bisou shifted against his legs, making a little doggie snuffling noise in her sleep.
He'd gotten used to only having this time of morning to himself while he was doing Grey's and Supernatural-stolen minutes just after dawn. Somehow, even with a normal shooting schedule, he found himself awake and prowling the house most mornings.
It wasn't a big deal today. He was due in at noon for some bullshit thing with NBC execs, to finish hammering out his deal for Shonda's new show. That was, of course, assuming said show ever happened.
Sure, he thought, it was Shonda, so it probably would, but there was always that niggling little doubt.
Did you really think they wanted you? They'll find someone younger and hotter and you'll be back to scraping by.
No matter how many scripts he'd gotten, or how much money he'd managed to squirrel away into retirement funds, he always ended up coming back to years of eating ramen, of scrambling to make rent, and clipping coupons and watching sales. He was hot right now. It could all go away in a heartbeat. He never forgot that.
The sun had risen high over the canyon as he read, and Bisou lifted her head, watching him through one barely opened eye before deciding that sleep was more interesting.
"Good girl," Jeff murmured. "I'll make you breakfast in a bit."
The phone shrilled and she lifted her head, giving him a withering glance. Well, make it stop, Dad, it seemed to say.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Jeff. Glad you're awake," Kim murmured. "How's it going in LA?"
"It's good. What's up?" If one of the executive producers of Supernatural was calling, it probably wasn't good.
Kim hesitated. "We have a little situation, and I was hoping you might be willing to help."
"What's wrong? Boys okay?"
"Jen and Jay are fine, it's actually Murray-"
"Chad? What's going on?"
"He's been doing the two shows for the last eight weeks, you know. And One Tree Hill isn't making it easy on him. Sure, they said they'd help out, but damn near every other day, they're finding an "extra shot" or realizing that one of the ones he filmed isn't good enough. He's been flying back and forth so much, I'm amazed he knows which set he's supposed to be on," Kim said. "Plus, he's been doing a couple reshoots for us lately, which hasn't helped."
"I can imagine. I had a bitch of a time, and you guys and Grey's couldn't have been nicer about it. So what happened?"
"He finally hit the end of his endurance and crashed. Jared says he fell asleep, but that's the deepest sleep I've ever seen. I'm betting he passed out."
"Is he in the hospital?"
"Nah. Jen and Jay took him home, promised to watch him. You know as well as I do, if they did the hospital, they'd term it "exhaustion," which is a Hollywood phrase for "total druggie." Chad's got enough issues without the network giving him shit."
"So what do you need?"
"Well, here's the thing. I went to the network, and told them that we wanted Chad for the rest of the season. I think we're going to have his loup garou stalk the boys for a while, he can guest next season, get killed off. One Tree didn't like that idea much."
"I'll just bet," Jeff muttered.
"So, we had to give a little. Namely, if you'll do it, a guest spot on One Tree Hill that they can publicize to the hilt, try to suck in some ratings for their last five shows," Kim snorted.
"I've got a meeting with NBC and Shonda later, I can see what I can do-"
"Already been there, done that. They're willing since you're not going to be filming for them until next season. Chad'll have to give Shonda a guest shot on one of her shows next season, a big cross promotion with SciFi. Look dude, I know it's a lot to ask. But I've got Jensen threatening to throw a diva bitch fit if I don't do something, and I didn't even know he liked the sonofabitch."
"Jensen? Seriously? Must be pretty bad, then. Yeah, I can add a guest shot to my contract with CW. I'm not doing anything else but post production on the movie, so I'm pretty available."
"Cool. Thanks, man. I'll owe you one. When you're up here in March, we'll go out and I'll buy you a beer and a joint."
Jeff laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Just let me know when I need to book a flight to North Carolina."
He hung up and glanced at the clock. Nearly eleven. He'd better put his ass in gear. He'd call Jensen later to check on Chad. Stupid little bastard, letting himself get that run down.
Yeah, because he was such a great role model for that particular trick.
His phone rang as the car was pulling onto the freeway, Jensen's cell phone showing up on the caller ID.
"How's Chad?"
"Hello to you too, Morgan. He'll be fine in a couple days."
"You sure you shouldn't take him somewhere?"
"Nah. He's fine. Honestly, I don't think he's any worse than you were. You just were too damned stubborn to crash." Jensen was quiet for a moment. "I heard that you were willing to help him out though. Thanks."
"Aw, Jen. I didn't know you cared."
"I don't. But he was freaking Jared out. And that, I do care about."
"Umhmm," Jeff rumbled.
"Don't give me that. What about you? Last I heard, Junior insulted the fuck out of you and tried to give you a blow job. Now you're best buddies?" Jensen drawled.
"I wouldn't say best buddies. He's a good kid. Kid being the operative. And we all make stupid mistakes.
Devour ringing any bells, Jen?"
"Fuck you, Jeff. At least it wasn't Six."
Jeff laughed. "Amen to that. But c'mon, once you get past all the alpha bullshit, he's not a bad kid. Hell, my mother loves him."
"Awww...is she picking out china patterns for you two yet?"
"She would if I'd let her. For a woman who wasn't real happy with the whole bi thing, she's gotten pretty damn hung up on the whole 'get Jeff settled' thing. She whipped out the guilt trip when I went to pick up Bisou a couple months ago."
"Which one?"
Jeff sighed. "The 'Your father and I won't live forever, you know. I want to know that you have someone special when we're gone' guilt trip. Dude, they're in their sixties, not their fucking eighties!"
Jensen laughed. "Yeah. But they love you. They want you to be happy."
"I know. I am happy, though. I've got my girl." He glanced up as they pulled into the parking lot. "Okay, gotta go, Jen. I'm heading into a meeting with the execs for Shonda. Do me a favor. When he wakes up,
have him give me a call."
"Will do. Knock 'em dead, Jeff."
Jeff hung up and slipped out of the car, fixing the public smile onto his lips.
The meeting went as well as could be expected. Shonda pushed the execs for the stuff she wanted, they balked about money, Shonda trotted him out like her prize pony, he signed his contract, they gave on some stuff, denied others, and three hours later, he got to go home and shower. He loved acting. No question there. And he liked eating, too. So this job was a good thing.
But goddamn. It was easier when it didn't feel like whoring. He'd always thought that once you 'made it,' things got easier. And in some respects, they had. People sent him scripts with parts that went beyond 'second policeman.' That was nice. But this...there were going to be literally hundreds of people who depended on this show for their jobs. Depended on him. It was a little terrifying.
At least he had his girl either way. He took her out for a nice long run along the beach and settled in with her on the couch to watch a couple of movies. Nothing exciting, but it worked for him.
The next morning, he woke up on the sofa with drool on his leg and a crick in his back, and a cell phone shrilling in his ear. He cleared his throat, and sat up, ignoring Bisou's dirty look.
"Am I your pillow now?"
Her look said plainly that yes, he really was.
Jeff flipped the cell phone open. "Morgan."
"Hey, Jeff," Chad murmured, voice scratchy, still sleepy. It made Jeff's brain go to places it wasn't allowed to go, of Chad all sleep-warm and tired. He'd bet on the little asshole being a snuggler, somehow.
"Hey, how're you feeling?"
"Better. Amazing what twenty-some hours of sleep'll do for you." Chad laughed without any real humor. "I just keep getting farther in debt to you, Morgan."
"No debt," Jeff rumbled. "You're a friend. When I can, I try to help my friends out."
Chad was quiet for a moment. "Thanks. Seriously. If you ever need a kidney or something, just call."
"Will do. So, I'll see you next week, I understand."
"Yeah. They e-mailed me my big death scene and all. I'm going to spend that day drinking, let me tell you."
"Oh. Have they decided what they want me for yet?"
Chad snorted. "Yeah. You get to play the EMT who tries to save my dumb ass. You should consider taking up drinking, too."
"That bad?"
"Dude, check your e-mail."
Jeff wandered over, flipping on his screen and settled in front of it, clicking his e-mail. Sure enough, there was a pdf file of script pages waiting for him.
He read through it quickly. "You gotta be kidding. Are they really going to make you...wait, fuck that. Are they going to make me spout this bullshit?"
"Awww...the mighty Jeffrey Dean Morgan has to lower himself? Nah, it'll get polished some by next week. Don't worry. Besides, no one says you have to list it on your resume. I sure as fuck won't."
"Just this episode, or all four seasons?"
"Hmm...think anyone'd buy a coma?"
"Only for House Of Wax," Jared called in the background.
Jeff laughed softly. "Guess that's a no."
"Yeah. Anyway. Thanks again. Tell Bisou I said hello."
"Will do. Tell Joe the same. I'll see you soon."
"Okay, Jeff. Bye."
Jeff hung up the phone and stared at the screen for a few minutes before he finally moved again.
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