halfdutch (halfdutch) wrote,
halfdutch
halfdutch

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Foxshy for the flist. ;-D

Title: Advice
Pairing: Josh/Foxy plus guest stars ;-D
Rating: PG-13
Note: Great minds think alike! I wrote this to cheer up my flist. It's RPF on crack because it's COMPLETELY made up. Since Josh wasn't even AT the Globes. The other people mentioned here all were, just maybe not at this particular party.


“OhmigodIloveLost! Can I take your picture?”

Even before he or Matt can reply, the girl is shoving her camera at a friend and is squeezing in between them. They obligingly put their arms around her and smile. She asks for one more and they keep grinning into the flash. And then finally she flits off after Patrick Dempsey and they’re alone until the next onslaught.

They look at each other and laugh and that moment is probably being documented by another photographer. There’s dozens of them roaming the InStyle party and after a while they just learn to ignore them, or freeze, smile, and then go back to what they were saying.

It’s still weird, having strangers and, hell, even really famous people come up to him and want to shake his hand. Still can’t believe anyone knows who he is. And there are so many more famous people here -- George Clooney and Jamie Foxx and Paris Hilton. If he weren’t next to Matt, he probably wouldn't even get recognized.

They’re still on a high from the win. Matt doesn’t seem to mind that he lost. The first thing he did after hitting this party was to march up to Hugh Laurie and congratulate him, because that’s just the way he is. Josh thinks he was more disappointed about the whole thing than Matt was, but Matt is all smiles and is shaking hands with ease and Josh hangs back, looking for Maggie, a splash of red, somewhere across the room.

He’s learned to stop gawking like an idiot at the big names, the ones he grew up wanting to be in the movies, but when Harrison Ford strolls past, looking like he’s lost his date, Josh can’t help but stare. He elbows Matt, who nods and winks back, and then somehow the way the crowd flows, Harrison is facing them. “Hey,” he mumbles. “Congratulations.”

All Josh can do is grin from ear to ear because even with that gray beard, it’s still Han Fucking Solo talking to him like he knows who he is but he can’t get one word out.

So Matt’s the one who thanks him, and soon they’re talking about all kinds of outdoorsy guy things and Josh chimes in when he can, but then the conversation shifts to planes and he’s fucking lost. He just nods and smiles and starts to feel like a fifth wheel, but he can’t be mad because it’s Indiana Jones after all, so this is as good a time as any for another drink.

He heads to the bar -- one of about four at the party -- and there’s a line, of course, because Clooney is there, Globe in hand. He’s surrounded by some guys who are probably Warner Bros. execs or something, and their adoring wives, but he glances up when Josh sidles up to the bar and shoots that movie-star smile his way.

Josh gets his drink -- classic martini, dry with an olive -- and raises it in a toast. “Hey, congratulations, man,” he says, and Clooney dips his head in acknowledgement. The bartender is pouring out another martini from the shaker and Clooney takes it, leaving a $50 on the bar.

“You too,” he says, stepping away from the execs, who have gone into a huddle anyway. “Great show.”

“Thanks,” Josh says in surprise, covering his reaction by taking a sip of his drink. He’s sure that a) Clooney has no idea who he is and b) even if he does, has never actually seen an episode of Lost. Guys like him don’t have time to watch TV.

“It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?” Clooney is saying, and Josh nods, looking around the room at all the people dressed in their borrowed finest.

“Yeah. Still getting used to it,” Josh says, and then he thinks maybe Clooney meant something else. But he’s just gazing out over the crowd, same as he is. He looks serious, but his raises his eyebrows, emphasizing the laugh lines around his eyes, and for a second, he reminds him of Matt.

“It’s weird when you get here in your 30s or later,” George is saying. He points at Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. “God knows what it’s like for them,” and Josh laughs, sloshing his drink a little. He licks the liquor off his thumb, shooting a sidelong glance at Clooney to see if he noticed.

Maybe it’s just that TV thing where everyone seems like your best friend, all those hours logged with Dr. Ross and all, but talking to him is somehow almost as easy as talking to Matt.

“You’re gonna win an Oscar this year,” Josh nods. “You ever think you’d get there?”

“From The Facts of Life?’ No.” And they both laugh, nearly doubling over. It feels so comfortable to stand next to him, like he’s always been knocking back drinks with Clooney and living the high life.

“I’m always expecting it to all go away, one of these days. Just wake up one day, and 'Poof.' So I moved behind the camera. And that’s when they decide to reward me for my acting.” Clooney grins, mad Irish charm making Josh feel warm, even before that last drink.

“You paid your dues,” Josh says, and he thinks back to how close he was to chucking it all. He’s not jealous of Clooney’s success. Hell, he’s still so damn glad just to have landed the show.

“Tell you what,” Clooney says, as if he’s reading his mind. “You’re hot now. TV Guide covers. Photo shoots. Movie offers, right?”

“Yeah. Just did my first lead,” Josh says. It’s a small lie, but he guesses -- prays is more like it -- that Clooney’s never heard of Cold Heart. “Horror film, but it’s a start.”

“Gotta start somewhere. Mix it up. I got so sick of playing the dashing doctor. It was such a fucking blast to get a gun, play a bad guy."

Josh laughs, “Well, maybe I’m doing the exact same guy I play on TV. I don’t know. Maybe I should go play a doctor instead?”

His eye falls on Matt, still in deep conversation with Harrison Ford. He wishes he’d look over just then, and see who he’s talking to, but he doesn’t. Matt’s probably getting an offer for Harrison’s next movie. Which could only be the villain or his police partner who gets murdered or something, which gives Harrison an excuse to kick ass. Take names. Look pissed off and save the day. Either way, the second lead in a Harrison Ford film ends up dying doesn’t he? Josh doesn’t really want to see Foxy dying on the big screen.

“Only roles in town: Doctor or criminal,” Clooney is saying with a laugh. “Or cowboy.”

“Yeah.” Josh nods. “Gonna be a whole lot more cowboy movies now, I figure.”

Clooney gives him an appraising glance. “You’d make a good cowboy.” Josh is too busy blushing to respond. “Just one bit of advice. If someone ever asks you to put on a rubber suit for a part ... don’t.”

“You mean ... Batman?”

“Yeah.” Clooney shudders. “Can’t believe I have a career after that. Nearly killed the franchise.”

Josh makes dismissive noises, while secretly wondering if Clooney knows about the meetings to play Gambit. “Worked out OK for Hugh Jackman. And Christian Bale,” he says. It wasn’t ever going to happen, on his schedule, but he can’t admit that that small part of him that’s still squealing inside over meeting Harrison Ford -- that teenage boy part of him really wanted him to play a big damn superhero.

“Sure, hey, don’t listen to me,” Clooney says. “I'm making this up as I go. And hey, good luck with your movie.”

He’s tipping his head and Josh just has time to mumble “You too,” before he's mobbed by a fresh set of wellwishers.

Josh grabs another drink, one for him and one for Matt, and walks back over.

“Did you get to touch it?” Matt is rocking on his heels and grinning at him.

“What?”

“His Globe. Did he let you hold it?”

“Ha. Very funny. And no. Just gave me some career advice.”

“Which was?”

“Tell you later,” Josh says, handing Matt his drink. Matt shrugs and jerks his head toward the balcony. “Smoke?”

“Yeah.” Josh follows behind. Matt’s really the one who should be getting advice from Clooney. Josh is still getting started. Matt’s poised to break through. He’s already a whiz with that camera of his. He could be directing. Making that movie with Harrison Ford, maybe. Could be the next Harrison Ford. Matt does that righteous, pissed-off thing even better than him, really.

The show is just a stepping stone for Matt. For Josh, now, it’s everything.

“Hey, what is it?” Matt is saying as he lights Josh’s cigarette. He looks concerned. Like he’s prepared to pack it all in right now if Josh wants to leave.

”Nothing. Just feels good to win.”

“Yeah.” Matt grins. “It does.”
Tags: foxshy, lost_fic, rps
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