8/24 Instance - "I'm Too Sexy"

[JSherlock]

timeline a few days after Mimic's Survival class.


Summers: Scott paused at Lizzie's door, shifting in the balls of his feet. finally, he rapped once before he could chicken out. After all, if no med school will take me, a backup plan is useful. If this works.

Elizabeth: Yawning, Lizzie wandered to her door and pulled it open. "What?" she blinked, then managed to focus. "Oh, hey Scott."

Summers: "OH - jesus!" Scott turned sharply around, bright red. Were those rips? Oh Jesus. Angel. No! Bad thoughts- good but not helpful. "M-morning, Lizzie." Oh, hell - is Warren there?

Elizabeth: "M-mh? No, Warren left about ten minutes ago. I was sleeping in," she yawned then realised she hadn't pulled a robe on. "Let me get dressed, alright?" she quickly and shut the door. Oops.

Summers: Scott nodded mutely. Please do. Ten minutes later, he'd composed hismelf, and was thankful that she was now dressed in jeans, top, hoodie and a sheepish smile.

Elizabeth: "Sorry about that," she grinned abashed. "What can I do for you? Did I miss a med apointment or something?"

Summers: "No. But it is coming up." He fidgeted for a minute. "Well, actually, I called up my contracts and I explained that my injuries had healed soemwhat - and I can see a bit again..." he trailed off, thinking over those hellish conversations. "And they're still interested."

Summers: ((somewhat))

Elizabeth: "Well, that's great! So..." she shrugged slightly and waited for him to finish. "Where do I fit into all this?"

Summers: "Well, I just wanted some pointers. I remember I just did it as a lark - something for fun to please my manager. But - if this works, I could have a side job or something. If no med school accepts me."

Elizabeth: She laughed slightly. "So...You want me to teach you how to model?" raising an eyebrow she spread her hands wide. "Well...You stand or sit pretty for the camera, really. Eat well, exercise so you look good..."

Summers: "Yeah, that's why they said too. I sent some pictures over. They said I looked good. I'll just be promoting some new shoes, racquets, balls...but. Well, I wanted to pick your brains. I remember being very very bored. And I was told maybe I'd be modelling some of the new
clothing. What the hell does that entail?"

Elizabeth: "Well...Modelling photoshoots or shows?"

Summers: "Uh..." Scott's face went blank. "I don't know? I used to stand around and try not to hit the guy holding the camera with a ball on purpose. That was...a photoshoot? I think. She didn't say anything about..oh. Show?"

Summers: He paled. "Jessica did mention a show, here. In New York."

Elizabeth: "Well photoshoots are relatively easy. If you need to do a show...Well, they're harder. Hope you don't get stage fright!"

Summers: "What do you mean, stage fright?" He ran a hand through his hair, still damp from his morning shower after his run.

Elizabeth: Rolling her eyes she gestured with her hands. "As in you put on a 'costume' walk down and up a catwalk before lots of people with lights and cameras and clapping. Well,
sometimes clapping."

Summers: "Oh, shit." He frowned. "I think she wanted me to go to one, not be in it...I think."

Elizabeth: "You think?" Lizzie smirked. "What did she say exactly?"

Summers: "Let me check." He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and looked it over, going quite pale. "Um. Apparantly, I'll be modelling Dunlop's new line." He said softly.

Elizabeth: She grinned evilly. "Oh you are now, are you? Super! Let me grab my bag," she darted back into the bedroom for a few minutes and came back out, locking ghe door after her.
"Right. the DR should be free if not we can use the theatre instead."

Summers: "I have the DR booked for tennis - ironic, really." He eyed the bag. "What's in there?"

Elizabeth: "I can make us a catwalk for you," she winked. "You got where you're modelling? I can type it into the computer and get plans and that from the web and recreate the centre in the
DR. Cool eh?"

Summers: "Wow - I can't do anything in the DR. I use everyone else's programs. and she didn't say where - just that'd it would be in New York next week. She'd call me tomorrow for all the details."

Elizabeth: Smiling proudly she nodded. "Ah, okay," she bounced along the corridor, glad of something to do that she knew so well. "Well, I can make the program with a place I know. It'll not be the same as whereever your showl'll be but at least it'll have a stage!"

Summers: "Uh...ok." He followed meekly, wondering what he'd done. But this was some cash inflow - and teaching the kids wasn't making enough to support a nice wedding, and a great all-expenses paid honeymoon.

Elizabeth: Letting him key in his acess code to the DR, she swished in and whipped her personal control pad out of her bag. "Give me a little bit - maybe go get me tea? Oh and toast! Buttery!"

Elizabeth: She sat down on the floor and got to work, tapping away intently.

Summers: Scott blinked. "How is that supp- nevermind. I'll be back." He turned and went out. He poked his head back in. "Where do you keep the tea?"

Elizabeth: "Oh!" she rolled her eyes and went into her bag for her keys. "Top drawer of the little stand thing on the larger desk. I keep my teabags in my room now as some filthy bastard kept stealing them."

Summers: "Ok, cool." He took the keys and went to fetch her breakfast.

Elizabeth: "Thank you!" she yelled after him and went back to her progamming.

Summers: When Scott came back with a tray loaded with food, thanks to Kitty, he nearly dropped it. "What the hell is this place?" He looked around at the lights set up, a long platform, and music was softly playing from somewhere. "Christ."

Elizabeth: "Arts centre stroke gallery stroke creative hub in west London. Did a show here in the summer." Lizzie said airily. "Now, how's your posture?"

Summers: "Sounds impressive," he said. "My posture is great. I've always stood up straight. All that swimming and tennis, and horse back riding."

Elizabeth: "That's a good start. So..." she scampered off down the side of the catwalk and climbed some steps. "Posture is important, but so is how you walk..."

Elizabeth: Starting from the end, she moved up and down the catwalk effortlessly, as if she was gliding, head held high and hips swinging.

Summers: Scott didn't even try to contain his laughter. "That's not a walk! No normal human walks like that!" He doubled up, howling. If they thought he was walking like that - they had another think coming!

Elizabeth: She paused and struck a pose. "Well, I'm not exactly normal but you'll be laughing on the other side of your face when it comes to your sho and you don't know what to do!" she smirked. "Though you're sports so you'll probably just have to walk forward, stop and grin."

Summers: "I should be able to manage that." He hopped up on the catwalk.

Elizabeth: "Right, now...You want to try and focus on something like a light so you're always looking ahead, okay?" she scooted to the edge of the catwalk to give him some room.

Summers: "Right." He looked around. Okay, this is just like playing. you concentrate on what you're doing - the people don't matter. He was glad of his glasses as they shielding his eyes from the harshest part of the bright lights. He picked one, and began walking normally, aware of keeping his posture and stride light.

Summers: And he walked right off with a yelp and ended in a tangled mess ont he floor. "I'd call for a medic, but I am the medic." He said after a minute.

Elizabeth: Wincing she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're meant to stop y'know..." she walked down to the edge and peered over. "Are you alright?"

Summers: "I think my pride is shot to hell, but physically, I'm good." He stood up gingerly, a bit red. "Let's try that again?"

Elizabeth: "From the top! You'll be fab! And it could be worse, you should meet the guy who put me through my paces, Anton. He'd make Paris Hilton feel like a scruffy tomboy two minutes after meeting her."

Summers: "Oh, well, that's reassuring. I'm glad I have you. Instead." This time he didn't fall off, and managed a good smile. "How was that?"

Elizabeth: "Well, as Remy would say you have a stick up your arse, but at least you didn't fall over."

Summers: "Gee, thanks." He stuck his tongue out at her. "I am not walking with my hips swinging. I put my foot down on that."

Elizabeth: "Well I wouldn't expect you to but you look like you have an iron rod inserted down your spine. Relax a bit. Don't sweat it - you'll have to do rehersals anyway when you get there."

Elizabeth: She looked at him and thought for a moment. "Your facial expressions need some work too."

Summers: "Well, okay. I feel a bit stiff...but my expression? what's wrong with it? Too vacant?"

Elizabeth: Rubbing her neck she grinned plesantly. "Well. Kind of. You look more like you're being taken down death row than treading the catwalk...Smile, grin, dazzle!"

Elizabeth: She went through a variety of expressions from exuberant to sultry. "Usually your outfit will help you with your expression."

Summers: "It's sportswear. The only expression I can think of is determined."

Elizabeth: "You look constipated, not determined."

Summers: "Don't hold back, will you?" He grinned and schooled his features into a more pleasant look. "How's this?"

Elizabeth: "Better," she smirked. "And I'm being nice! Trust me. Modelling is a seriously bitchy business. It strips flesh from the bone in catty name calling feilds."

Summers: He winced. "Great. Even with the guys?" He walked down, pretending he was walking onto a court.

Elizabeth: "Yes," she nodded. "It's a model eat model world."

Elizabeth: "Oh now you're getting it!" she clapped. "Try it like that again!"

Summers: "Christ." All expenses paid honeymoon. All expenses paid honeymoon. All... He nodded and turned and walked back, going down once again.

Elizabeth: She watched him a few times, feeling pleased. "Yeah, you're getting the hang of it. Don't worry, they'll work with you before the show goes on."

Summers: "Wonderful." He walked back to her, and smiled. "Thanks. I just wanted to not look like a complete idiot. Especially if it's Model eat Model."

Elizabeth: "Fair enough," she nodded. "So are we - oh shit! I totally forgot about my breakfast with all of this!" se sighed as she spotted her abandoned tray.

Elizabeth: (she)

Summers: "Oh - well. It hink I've had enough psyching up, anyway. Let's go get fresh breakfast. I'm hungry now, too." He checked his watch.

Elizabeth: "That sounds good to me!" she jumped off the platform and gathered her things together. "Soooo do we get to come and watch?"

Summers: "You can. And Angel. But nobody else. Oh - well, you can bring Warren if he wants to come." He got the tray, and shurgged. "It's more of quick money than anything, but still - I'll get flack for it if anyoen else knew. Maybe Angel shouldn't come. She blabs." He grinned, to show he meant no harm.

Elizabeth: "Sounds like a right little feild trip and hey!" she protested at the comment about
Angel and threw a slice of cold toast at him.

Elizabeth: "That is no way to talk about your wife to be!"
Summers: "Hah! I bet she tells you things about me, so I feel no guilt." He grinned, and ducked the toast.

Elizabeth: "She may do. But I bet when you guys get together you can whine til the cows come home about shoes, bags and pms!"

Summers: Scott shrugged. "I keep my mouth shut. Besides, I hear about PMS from the source." He held the door open for her with his foot, stomach growling.