Pearls and Tattoos – A Scott/Lauren Fic

By Gigi

Disclaimer: I own nothing (DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT) relating to Scott, Lauren, or anybody else concerning the cast of Gilmore Girls.

Chapter 1: Spill

A/N: Lauren’s point of view, and, btw, I have made a slight adjustment to the actual interview! And no way am I doing it word for word.

“And we’re off the air! Great job, guys. Take ten, and then we’ll bring on Scott!” The director yells.

“God, I’m so tired!” I whisper to Alexis, stifling a yawn.

“What on Earth were you doing that made you so tired?” Alexis whispered back, a concerned tone in her voice.

“I was talking to my dad. He’s visiting in a month or two and wanted me to know. Then we sort of got off on a tangent…Okay, I seriously need coffee, now,” I say as I get off the couch—the one from my “inn”—and head straight toward the refreshment table.

“Lauren!” I groan as I hear Brooke’s voice behind me. Pasting on a smile, I turn around to face Brooke. Thank God I have coffee now.

“Hey, Brooke, what’s up?” I ask, taking a long swig of my coffee. Brooke Burke is an okay interviewer, but she is kind of boring sometimes.

“I had a crazy idea,” she begins. Those are never good words coming out of her mouth…or anybody’s for that matter. “I was thinking that, for people who are new to the show and have only seen reruns, you could sit on Scott’s lap when we go back on.” She’s joking right?

“Um, why?” is all I manage to get out. She wants me to sit on Scott’s lap? That’ll make everybody think we’re together!

“So people will know your characters are together in the show! And I think it would be a nice twist. Nobody will expect you to sit on his lap! It’ll keep the audience interested. How about it?” Brooke looks at me with pleading eyes. God, how I hate this woman right now.

“Fine, I guess I can sit on Scott’s lap…” I concede. Wait ‘til Amy gets wind of this! She’ll never let me live it down. Grumbling, I start on my way back to the couch until I bump into someone: Scott. Perfect. “Ah!” I yelp in pain as the hot coffee I was enjoying just a minute ago pours all over my shirt.

“Oh, my God, Lauren, I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was—” Scott stops mid-apology to stare at my shirt, which is completely soaked through and see-through, now. This day just keeps getting better and better!

“It’s okay. I’m going to go change, now. Hey, does anybody know where I could get an identical shirt like this?” I yell. Melissa comes rushing toward me, as she saw the whole fiasco occur, with a towel, ushering me to the wardrobe department.

“Hurry! You only have like three minutes!” Melissa urges.

“Ouch! The nails, the nails, the naaaiils!” I complain as she pushes me into the wardrobe.

“Come on, look!” Melissa starts tearing through the clothes. “YES! Found it!” She holds up the white shirt identical to mine in triumph.

“Great, thanks!” I snatch the blouse from Melissa’s grip and start to take off my now-brown shirt.

“Oh, sorry!” I turn around—I’m not wearing a shirt at the moment; just my bra—to see Scott at the door of the wardrobe. Covering his eyes—at least he isn’t ogling me—, Scott continues, “Um, Brooke just told me about the…er…seating situation and you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to…”

“Um, no, it’s okay…is that all?” I ask, blushing furiously while frantically trying to find something to cover my upper half.

“Uh, no. Brooke wanted to me to tell you that you have one minute to get back on the set,” Scott declares, his hand still over his eyes.

“Okay…see you in a minute!” I say, my voice going two octaves higher than usual. As soon as Scott closes the door, I slip the blouse on and adjust my pearls, grumbling. “God, that Brooke is one swell girl, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Melissa inquires, helping me fix my hair.

“Well, the seating situation is that I have to sit on Scott’s lap!” I answer, turning around just in time to see her expression.

“No!”

“Yes! And, then, of course she sends Scott to come and get me—”

“LAUREN, YOU ARE NEEDED ON SET ASAP!” a voice outside the wardrobe door sounds. Whoever it is keeps rapping on the door.

“Coming!” I yell to the person. Facing Melissa one last time, I say, “Well, it’s show time!” And with that, I head out to the set.

A/N: Okay, okay, I know it’s kind of short, but I don’t have much time, see? So review! I hope you liked it, and if you didn’t, feel free to keep it to yourself!