A vacated affair!!! VERY 1st RPF EO... :)
TITLE: A vacated affair!!! Pt1
AUTHOR: EO4eva
PAIRING: Mariska/Chris
RATING: M (just to be safe)
HI all… okay, so any SVU fan has mostly likely seen the behind the pics of season 11 where it looks like Elliot and Olivia/ Mariska & Chris are locking lips… but no one has been able to tell whether it’s behind the scenes mucking about, or if it’s a shot from the series. SO… I am writing two shots. One from Elliot and Olivia… and the other from Mariska and Chris based on these photos…
I just wanted to say that I intended to upset no one… I am not suggesting that Mariska and Chris don’t love their spouses, nor do I mean to disrespect these actors, I love them and that was certainly NOT my intention.
Here goes for Chris and Mariska… :)
“I’m tired, Chris. I don’t want to go out,” Doris Sherman Williams groaned as her husband stood in the bedroom of their New York home, changing from his work clothes into jeans and a clean shirt. She watched from the doorway, admiring the body that she had stared at for the last 15 years. He had always had a nice form, good strength; he’d been a construction worker before his acting career had taken off, and a bouncer and personal trainer before that, it was no wonder his body was built like a Greek God.
Chris turned to his wife as he buttoned his shirt, oblivious to her eyes wondering over him. He had stopped seeing that many months ago. “You’re always tired, Doris, unless we’re visiting one of YOUR workmates,” he pointed out.
“I’m very patient, Chris, but there are only so many hours I can take spending time with Marish and Peter. You spend enough time with her at work, all day, every day.”
“It’s work. It’s not the same thing,” he answered hotly. He always felt the need to defend that accusation. As far as he was concerned, work was a separate issue, between takes they could chat, but never enough to get down to important issues before the next take. “And since when did this become an issue. I thought you liked them.”
Doris sighed heavily. “I’m tired. I don’t want to go out, and that’s the end of this!”
“You know what?” he laughed bitterly, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “You can do what you like, I’m going, come or not… I don’t care anymore!” Chris stormed out of the room, tired of her attitude where his friend and co-star, Mariska Hargitay, were involved. Mariska was after all, the Godmother of Doris and Chris’ daughter, Sophia.
Within ten minutes, Chris was ready to go. Sophia and their son, Dante, were staying with friends, which meant it would be a night of adult conversation, since Mariska’s son, August was being taken care of by the nanny. Chris knew that Marish hated that, she loved being a mother, and she worked extremely long hours, but once in a while she needed a night of adult conversation.
Chris stopped in the loungeroom, and looked at his wife, who was positioned on the couch, with her feet tucked hidden under her. “Are you coming?”
Doris threw him a look of disapproval. “Hardly!”
“What’s the problem?” he asked unable to keep the strain out of his voice. He felt his body tense.
“I told you, I’m tired.”
“So am I,” he stated. “I work hard all day, too.”
“Oh yeah, it must be a tough life standing around all day in front of a camera!” her words were bitter and cheap. Doris was a production designer, and her work was important to her. But sometimes she forgot that Chris’ work was important too.
Chris shook his head. Maybe it was better that she didn’t come, right now he wanted to be as far away from her as humanly possible. “I’ll be home later,” he called as he headed for the door.
Once outside, he pulled his phone from his pocket. It was polite to at least tell Marish about the change in plans. She answered after two rings, sounding slightly irate. “Hi Chris,” she greeted almost coolly. “What’s up?”
“Change of plans… Doris is in a mood and isn’t coming,” he said with the same tone that Marish had used when she answered.
Marish sighed heavily through the phone. “Must be the night for it, Peter has taken off somewhere, I don’t know when he’s coming back.” He did that some times, Chris knew, when life got too much for him, he fled, leaving all responsibility to Marish.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” he said with disappointment. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, and the local bar was within walking distance…
“Why should we suffer because-”
“Meet me at CHARLIE’S bar?” he offered.
“Give me half an hour,” she agreed without hesitation.
Chris hung up the phone and buried it in his pocket. He shuffled his feet along the sidewalk of New York City as he made his way to CHARLIE’S bar. He ordered himself a neat scotch and sat stiffly on the bar stool, thinking about Doris. He could picture her sprawled out on the couch, with a sour face. He’d be in the doghouse when he returned home. But as he nursed his drink, he found that he didn’t care. Her attitude of late was terribly moody, and Chris was beginning to feel the effects. He was tired. He missed coming home to the woman he married so long ago, she had always been so happy to see him. And her smile, when she smiled, she lit up the room. He hadn’t seen her smile in months, despite his efforts.
He gulped the rest of his scotch and placed the empty glass on the bar in front of him. The bartender joined him a moment later, and Chris ordered a second drink. “Same,” he gestured to the bottle of scotch on the top shelf. He was sipping his second drink when Marish pulled out the bar stool beside him. His eyes lingered briefly on the red cotton halter neck dress, she was wearing. Marish hung her black leather jacket on the chair, and sat down.
Doris never dressed up for him anymore.
“What do you want?” Chris asked once she’d settled comfortably on the stool.
“A new husband,” she groaned.
Chris smiled weakly. “I’ll swap you for a new wife.”
“We could just trade them both in for something newer and hotter,” she shrugged.
“Yeah,” he nodded sipping at his glass. He knew that neither of them would seriously consider walking away from their marriage. But at this point, all it was, was growing frustration.
“Vodka?” Chris slapped a crumbled ten dollar bill on the bar.
Marish hesitated. “Bacardi,”
Chris pulled back mildly. “Wow… things that bad?”
Marish shrugged as the bartender handed her the drink. She skulled it all in one long gulp making Chris shift uncomfortably on his stool. “Another,” she waved the bartender, who instantly poured another rum.
“You’re almost caught up,” he smiled, mildly impressed. Chris had known Marish long enough to know how much liquor she could hold. Only when life hit hard did she drink rum. It was the only drink that went straight to her head.
On their third round, Chris beginning to see the change in Marish, she was border lining drunk.
“Chris,” she said placing her hand gently on his upper thigh, obvious to her actions. Chris winced. Marish was in his personal space, and he felt the proximity of his hand too close for comfort. “I’m tired, Chris.”
“Let’s get you home then,” he offered.
“No,” she protested openly. “Chris, I just don’t- I’m tired. I don’t sleep. August keeps me awake. Peter is never home. Work is SO emotionally straining. I just, I can’t do it anymore. I’m thinking about quitting the show…”
The words hung in the air like a bad odor. Chris’ eyes widened. “Quit?” he scoffed. “You can’t!”
Marish cocked her head slightly and looked at him, an air of sadness about her. “I’m sorry. It’s too much right now.”
“God, Mar, quitting the show? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” he was still gripped by shock. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, leave Peter,” he smiled only half-joking. He would have done just about anything to protect the well-being of his best friend. He knew she was being irrational. The decision was too quick. She hadn’t spoken to him about it, and he knew she would have, had it been plaguing her mind.
Marish laughed shortly. “Maybe,”
“We should probably think about getting you home,”
“Mmm,” she moaned leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Chris, I don’t think I could get through the day without you, sometimes.”
“I know, Mar,” it was the alcohol talking. Chris took his glass and polished off the remainder of his drink before slipping an arm around her waist and helping her from her place on the stool. He waved to the bartender with his free hand, and walked her into the night air. “Come on, I’m going to get you a taxi…”
As Chris made his way home, he felt the cold air whisked his face, and he dreaded the scene that awaited him when he walked through the door.
Please R&R… I want to know if I’m entertaining ppl or just wasting my time… :) happy day readers!!!