Title: And The Winner Is…
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@hotmail.com)
Date: 2/7/05
Rating: PG-13
Authors notes: Fandom cross-over. Feedback is more than welcome and can be sent to phobosgirl@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: don’t know, never will, blah balh
Warnings: RPS
Complete: yes


And The Winner Is…

Gale hated Hollywood parties. Really hated them. He disliked all parties, truth be told, but Hollywood parties were the worst. He was only attending tonight because he wanted to show his support for Indy films and the Independent Spirit Awards was THE Indy event of the year. Well, yeah, ok- he was showing his support, technically. He was also doing the humiliating but necessary schmoozing his agent had demanded. After The Unseen and Social Grace, he could almost write his own ticket in the Indy industry, but pressing the flesh came with the territory and his agent was pretty sure it was good for the soul, too. Or some shit.

Standing in a quiet corner trying hard not to be noticed, Gale held a watered-down gin and 7 in a glass dripping with condensation and scanned the room with bored eyes. He decided to wait another twenty more minutes and then bail for the night. He’d done his duty to Indy films and his agent.

Examining the cheap-assed carpet for the millionth time tonight, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Affecting his most approachable demeanor- eyes wide and clear, slightly embarrassed smile on his lips, a face guaranteed to beguile movie produces and make housewives shed their panties- he looked up at his visitor.

The ruggedly drawn face and sandy hair made this A-list actor instantly recognizable and Gale waited to be asked if he knew the direction to the men’s room.

“You’re Gale Harold, aren’t you?” Gale was almost stunned into silence. Guys like this never knew who he was.

“Yes, I am.” He was opening his mouth to tell the man were to find the bathroom, still not believing the dude could have approached him for actual conversation, when the other man stuck out his hand. Gale took it and clasped it firmly.

“Viggo Mortensen.” As if Gale wouldn’t have known. His voice was soft and Gale was struck by his quiet manner. Not the usual Hollywood greeting at all.

“Nice to meet you,” he answered, his curiosity growing.

“You have that show on TV, don’t you?” Viggo took a sip from a battered bottle of Evian that he’d already peeled half the label from. “It’s on pay cable, right?”

“Showtime,” Gale offered, “it’s called Queer As Folk.”

“Riiiiight.” Viggo drawled and smiled.

Gale nodded and waited to see if Viggo would comment on it or not. Usually the next question was something along the lines of, “Yeah, it’s about all those fags, right?”

Viggo said nothing, though, just continued smiling, letting his eyes roam the room before settling them disconcertingly back on Gale’s face. Viggo nodded as if Gale had spoken again, and Gale started to wonder if the guy might be stoned. His trained nose didn’t pick up the signature sweet aroma of weed so if Viggo was wasted, it was on something besides Gale’s favorite herb.

“So how’s that goin’ for ya?” Viggo asked, finally.

“Great,” Gale was glad to have the silence broken again, “We’re about to wrap it up, the series is ending.”

“Wow!” enthused Viggo, “How long you been on the air?”

“Five seasons, altogether.”

“Awesome.” Viggo nodded in that smiling, slightly fucked-up way and continued staring at Gale.

After so many years working around gay guys, Gale was pretty confident in his own gaydar, but he couldn’t get a hit off this guy- was he being cruised or not? He decided to revert to the default position and assume not.

“So you work with that other guy, right?” Viggo’s eyebrows lifted in question. “The blond kid?”

“Randy Harrison,” Gale tendered. “Yes, he’s my acting partner.”

Viggo’s head seemed to be on an invisible line attached to a pulley system hidden in the ceiling, because he couldn’t seem to stop nodding. Up and down. Up and Down. Gale pretended not to notice- maybe it was a physical condition.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Viggo ventured, and suddenly Gale got it. He wasn’t being cruised. Randy was, through him. He suppressed a smile. This actually happened to him all the time, but never with someone as well known as Viggo Mortensen.

“I guess.” Gale answered. “He’s a nice guy. Good actor.”

More nodding and smiling. “I’m a sucker for blonds”

“That’s fake,” Gale confessed. “He’s not really a blond.”

“No?” Viggo was surprised.

“No, they dye it for the show. His hair is really sorta light brown.”

“Oh.” Viggo sounded disappointed. “Well, you’re not bad yourself, you know,” Viggo commented, making a pointed pass, his gentle eyes traveling down Gale’s body and back up again.

Gale rubbed his lips to cover his grin.

“Thanks!” he answered, brightly.

Gale waited for the other shoe to drop. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“You guys ever…” Viggo leaned in conspiratorially as if Gale might generously share some intimate secrets.

“Hmm?” Gale asked, arching his eyebrow. He was enjoying this.

“You know,” Viggo went on, his smile still firmly in place. Gale waited silently, playing dumb.

“Fucked,” Viggo said out of the side of his mouth.

Gale sputtered a laugh and said, “Uh, no. I’m, um, straight.”

He flashed the man his widest toothy smile.

"Shit, sorry Gale,” Viggo backed up a step, “Didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought, you know, ‘cos of your show and all, you might be…”

Gale was, by now, well practiced at this and wanted to put the poor man at ease.

“It’s ok, it’s a common mistake, happens all the time.” His smile was genuine, though he was chuckling inside.

“Yeah,” Viggo was nodding. Again. “I bet it does. Thanks for being so cool about it.”

Gale just shrugged politely.

“So um,” Viggo was looking around the room again, still standing close to Gale.

Batter up, Gale thought to himself, knowing that Viggo was about to make another move on his absent acting partner. He almost laughed out loud.

“He seeing anyone? This Randy kid?” Gale was impressed with how quickly the man came to the point. He obviously didn’t seem to care that Gale knew he was gay, although he might have just assumed that someone as low on the Hollywood echelon ladder as Gale couldn’t do his career much damage if he outted him.

“Yeah, he is,” Gale said with something like sympathy in his voice. “Sorry.”

“The best ones always are, right?” Viggo winked.

“I guess so,” Gale shrugged and was relieved to feel the vibration of his cell phone ringing in his coat pocket.

He pulled it out, smiling apologetically to Viggo. He flipped the phone opened, took note of the number and said, “Sorry, man, I have to take this.”

“Nice to have met you, Gale,” Viggo smiled widely, “Good luck to you!”

“Thanks, Viggo, the same to you!”

Gale watched him walk away until he’d blended back into the glittering crowd before putting the phone to his ear.

“How’s the party?” Randy’s voice was playful.

“As expected,” Gale answered. “Boring and tedious. There is some good news, though.”

“Yeah?” He could hear Randy munching something, probably carrot sticks. The guy was fucking over the moon for carrot sticks. Some throwback from his youth.

“Viggo Mortensen wants to fuck you.”

Randy’s laughter rang out over the phone line, making Gale smile.

“He does, huh?”

“Yeah, but he’ll settle for me.” Gale chuckled.

Randy laughed again. “What’d ya tell him?”

“I said no thanks for both of us, hope you don’t mind.”

“Mmm well, he’s hot,” Randy admitted, “but I’m hopelessly taken.”

“Yeah I told him that.” Gale was finally starting to enjoy his night.

“Ok, then. Get your ass home. Randy Harrison wants to fuck you.” He could hear Randy’s smile through the phone.

“On my way, boss.” Gale snapped the phone shut, slid it back into his pocket and made his way across the room. Feeling smug, he slapped Viggo on the back as he exited, pushing his way past a crowd of paparazzi who barely noticed him.

The End