Part 43 (1/2)
Tony sighed and pointed.
The tall blonde sitting behind the desk in the main lobby was intent on one of her monitors and hadn't seen them.
”You're right. We have a problem.”
”Fortunately, I have a solution.”
”You know a spell to take care of her?”
”Nope. I don't need magic for this.”
Leah patted him gently on the shoulder. ”Tony, you're gay.”
”That'll help,” he said, quietly pulling open the heavy gla.s.s door, ”but more importantly, I'm in television.”
The door got the guard's attention. Wearing a professionally neutral expression, she watched them cross to her desk. ”Can I help you?” she asked, the neutrality touched with suspicion. Tony smiled and pulled a business card out of his wallet. ”I hope so,” he told her, pa.s.sing it over. ”My boss sent me out to find a location for our next episode and with any luck, this building will have the perfect s.p.a.ce.”
”You work on Darkest Night?”
”I do.”
”Oh, wow. I love that show! Lee Nicholas is so hot! That episode where he got captured by the coven and they were going to sacrifice him unless Raymond Dark-who they'd been hunting for centuries-surrendered to them and he was tied out over that altar; that was just brilliant! And that scene where he was chasing that mad scientist down the street after he was ex-sanguinating people and blaming it on vampires, that went right past my mother's best friend's ex-husband's store!” Her enthusiasm dropped about five years off her age. ”It says here you're a TAD?”
He cranked up the camp, just a little. ”I'm also a location scout, the photocopier repair person, decorating consultant, and, occasionally, second dead body on the right.” He leaned in. ”That leg at the edge of the screen after the ma.s.sacre on that container s.h.i.+p at VanTerm-mine.” CB had been way too cheap to have a leg made when he had any number of them walking around collecting a paycheck.
”No.”
”Yes.”
She rose up on her toes and peered over the edge of the desk. ”Oh, my G.o.d, it was your leg! I recognize the shoe!”
No she didn't, it was a different shoe entirely, but Tony wasn't going to mention that. ”Look... Donna...” Her name tag, now close enough to read, said Donna Hardle. ”... I know you can't leave your post, but would it be possible for us to wander very carefully around the building-not touching anything, I promise-to see if we can find the s.p.a.ce my boss is looking for?”
”I don't know; it's Sat.u.r.day, and...”
”And there won't be many people working, so we won't disturb them. We thought about that. And besides, we'll want to shoot on a Sat.u.r.day.”
”On a Sat.u.r.day?”
”Uh-huh.”
”I'm here on Sat.u.r.days!”
”Hey...” His cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the lunatic smiling. ”... that's great. You know, Lee loves to meet his fans.”
Her cheeks went pink. ”He does?”
”Loves to.”
Donna glanced down at the card, looked over the bank of six monitors, bit her lip, and said, ”I guess it's okay if you don't touch anything, and I'll have to make sure you're not carrying cameras.”
”That's fair.” Because if they were intent on industrial espionage, they'd surely have their corporate spy supplies out where they could be easily found. On the other hand, as he turned out the front pockets on his jeans and patted down his jacket, he gave her points for even considering it. Leah had his car keys, so all he was carrying was his wallet.
”And you...” Donna frowned at Leah. ”Are you with the show, too?”
”Stunts,” Leah said shortly, holding out her bag. ”The location needs a safe fall site. Why don't you just hold onto this.” ”You do stunts? That is so cool!” Setting the bag down on her desk, she keyed in a fast run of numbers and the door at the end of the lobby buzzed. ”Go on through. There's a couple of guys working today; don't disturb them, okay?”
”We'll be as quiet as the mold man in episode nine.”
”That was a great episode!”
Leah snorted as the door closed behind them. ”Somebody should tell Donna that womb to tomb she only gets so many exclamation points and she's wasting them.”
”Be nice,” Tony muttered, ma.s.saging the inside of his cheeks with his tongue.
”No.”
Sye Mckaseeh's potential entrance was in a multidesk office with windows overlooking what was probably a manufacturing area.
There were long tables and individual stations of tools, and if it wasn't manufacturing, Tony had no idea what it was. ”I don't see the two guys the guard mentioned.”
”They're probably in R&D if they're in on the weekend,” Leah told him, down on her knees running a hand over the teal blue carpet. ”It's under here. There's a bit of a b.u.mp. I think there was a wall taken down and the office made bigger.”
When he c.o.c.ked his head, he could see the s.h.i.+mmer. ”Back up.”
”What was with all the hand waving?” Donna asked as they came back out into the lobby. ”I could see you on the security monitors,” she added before they could ask how she knew.
”I was setting up the shots,” Tony told her, peering at her through the square of his fingers. ”You know.”
”Of course! So cool! Did you find what you needed?”
”I think so, but now I have to tell the boss. He makes all the final decisions.”
”So you don't know what Sat.u.r.day you'll be here?”
”Not yet.”
”That's okay, I wrote down all my days off until after Christmas, so can you try and be here when I am?”
As Tony took the piece of paper, he laid his other hand over his heart. ”I will do my best.”
”That's just so great!” She was handing Leah back her bag, but her attention never left him. ”Tony, can I ask you a question?”
He noted the impressive amount of information conveyed by Leah's we have another twenty-six of these things to close and not nearly enough time so we need to haul a.s.s expression and then ignored it. Donna had done them an enormous favor and right now was definitely not the time to be acquiring a karmic burden. ”Sure.”
”It's about Raymond Dark and James Taylor Grant.” She lowered her voice and glanced to both sides, as if worried about eavesdroppers. ”Is there, you know, a subtext there on purpose because they always stand so close together?”
”Sorry, that's standard blocking for television,” Tony told her. ”Actors have to be well within each other's personal s.p.a.ce in order to get them both in a small screen closeup. There's no subtext; they're just hitting their marks.” Donna clearly didn't entirely believe him. ”But they're so perfect together.”
He winked, and gave his best imitation of a lascivious screaming queen. ”You don't think James Taylor Grant would prefer a younger man?”