[SGA RPS] Soon Burn Out
Title: Soon Burn Out
Pairing: Martin Gero, Martin Wood
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2000
Summary: Key lime pie, a fireman's hat, and Confucius are the best Martin can do.
Notes: Blame the Martins for being so ridiculously awesome in commentary. Also, many thanks to melloniel for the beta.
Originally Posted: November 4, 2007
Soon Burn Out
"Hey," Martin says, ducking into Gero's office and pulling the door shut behind him. "Elements for lunch?"
Gero's frowning at a marked-up up script rewrite and doesn't even spare him a glance. "What?"
Martin sighs. "Elements," he repeats. "For lunch?"
"Yeah, no, I got that," Gero says, flipping pages. "But you're shooting. You don't have time for lunch."
"You're right," Martin says, "I don't have time. I just think it's fun running the stairs to get to your office."
His tone is sharper than usual and when Gero looks over at him, he sees that Martin is tired, frustrated. "What's up?" he asks, setting his script aside.
Martin sinks into a chair. "Stunt sequence," he says dismissively. "Bam Bam has to recalibrate something or other and it's setting us back."
"Ah," Gero says wisely. "The greatly feared thingamjig malfunction."
"Exactly."
"Y'know, the only thing that breaks more than the thingamajig is the whatsitcalled. We really ought to get those replaced."
Martin's phone rings, some nondescript jingly-jangly tone. He pulls it out of his pocket, frowns at the caller ID, and cuts the ringer mid-jangle. Gero looks at him questioningly, but Martin shrugs it off. "Not in the budget," he says, returning to the conversation. At this point in the season, that's pretty much the answer to everything.
"Damn budget."
Martin doesn't disagree. "Come on, let's go. You drive."
"Why do I have to drive? I drove last time."
"Because I called it."
"You called it? What are we, ten?"
"Shut up," Martin says, tossing Gero's keys at him. "You'd have called it first if you'd thought about it."
"Yeah," Gero says, "True."
He locks the door behind them and they navigate the maze of industrial green hallways they long ago agreed would make a great set for a horror film. As they pass Joe Mallozzi's office, Gero says loudly, "I think I have a solution to all our budget woes, by the way."
"Yeah?" Martin says. "What's that?"
"Get rid of Mallozzi and his foodie crap. His business lunches alone -- have you seen those expense reports?"
"I can hear you!" Joe hollers from his office.
"I mean, really," Gero continues blithely, "what kind of guy eats crisp pork belly and corn and cheese ice cream? Something's got to be wrong with him. He's got to be at least a little unhinged."
"You ate it, too! And did I mention I can hear you, asshole?" Joe hollers, louder this time.
"And don't even get me started on Baron Destructo," Gero says as they turn down another hallway. "Who picks a supervillain alter ego based on the feudal system?" A baseball comes hurtling down the hallway, but Baron Destructo's powers do not, apparently, include aiming around corners. "A supervillain with bad aim!" Gero adds over his shoulder.
Martin laughs, but they pick up the pace and hurry outside just the same. "He's going to kill you, you know," Martin says.
"Slowly and painfully," Gero agrees, but the impending doom is worth it to get Martin laughing again.
-----
Once they're out of the studio Martin looks more relaxed, though that's not saying much. The day's shooting schedule doesn't seem that tight so whatever problem Bam Bam's encountered must have really set them back. But it looks like the last thing Martin wants to talk about, so Gero opts for an entirely different conversational tack -- one he hasn't attempted before because it calls for a very delicate blend of subtlety and nonchalance.
"So," he says, "what you think you might be doing next year if the show doesn't, uh, y'know, get picked up?"
He really needs to work on his subtlety. And nonchalance.
Martin gives him a look that says as much. "The show's going to get picked up," he says, with the tired air of someone who's already had this conversation more than once. "They'll probably make us sweat it out, but they'll pick it up. It's too soon to be worrying about that, anyway."
"Yeah," Gero says, poking at what's left of his egg salad sandwich, "it's really not."
"You'll be fine. We'll get picked up and you'll have another whole season to try to get that Dr. Pepper bit in."
Gero's automatically defensive. "The Dr. Pepper bit is really funny."
"That's why it's been cut, what -- three times already?"
"Four," Gero says, a bit of McKay in his tone. "Fifth time's the charm."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"I'm telling you that it's really--"
Martin's phone goes off again, jingle jangle. He checks the caller ID, cuts the ringer, and sticks the phone back in his pocket. Martin's usually good about answering his phone; it's not like him to keep blatantly ignoring it.
"What's going on?" Gero asks.
"Nothing," Martin says. "It can wait."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Martin flags down the waitress for more iced tea, then takes his time stirring in two fake sugars. "So," he finally says, "how's Stephanie? Got any plans for her birthday yet?"
Gero thinks Martin needs to work on his subject changing as much as he needs to work on his subtle nonchalance, but he's kind enough to refrain from pointing that out. "Next month," he says instead. "I was thinking a weekend at a B&B, but that's so…conventional."
"What did you want to do, take her skydiving?"
"Nothing that extreme. Just something memorable."
"You'll think of something, I'm su--" Martin's phone goes off a third time, the jingle jangle replaced by the ominous sound of the Imperial March. That means it's either Brad or Rob -- Jason spent a long afternoon on set swindling people out of their phones just to reprogram their ringers -- and Martin turns his phone off completely.
"You're sure everything's fine," Gero says, and tries not to make it sound like a question.
"Yes," Martin says firmly. He pushes his plate aside and reaches for the small menu card on the table stand. "I want dessert. You want dessert?"
"You have time?"
"They have key lime pie. There's always time for key lime pie."
Gero's not really going to argue with that. "Okay," he says, "but you're buying. I called it."
-----
It's another twenty minutes before they get back to the studio. Gero follows Martin to the effects stage, curious about what's going on. The answer becomes clear when Bam Bam breaks away from a circle of waiting crew and stuntmen and heads straight for Martin the moment he steps onto the soundstage.
"Where the hell've you been?" he demands. "I tell you we're ready to shoot and then you just disappear? My people work harder than yours do, take risks yours don't, and when they're ready to go you should be ready to go, not off doing whatever you damn well please for hours at a time while we sit around and wait! You couldn't even pick up your goddamn phone? What the fuck, Martin?"
Martin sighs, but holds his hands up placatingly. "I'm sorry," he says. "I had to put out some fires that just couldn't wait. I wasn't trying to put anybody off, and I'm sorry for the delay. But if everybody's ready, we can go ahead and--"
"We've fucking been ready, Martin, that's the point!"
"I know," he says. "I heard you. But this really couldn't wait."
"He's right," Gero says, stepping up from behind Martin. "It was one of those last minute things -- wasn't much we could do. We got in and out as quickly as we could."
"I'm sorry," Martin says again. "I really am."
"So, what?" Bam Bam says, as though he's expecting more. "That's it?"
"Yeah," Martin says. "What more do you want?"
Bam Bam looks far from appeased, but with the rest of the crew standing by he's not willing to push the issue further. "Fine," he says shortly.
"My apologies to everyone," Martin says to the room at large. "Now, if someone will call Jason so he and Lani can run through their final blocking, we can get started."
-----
Martin doesn't make it back to his office until 9:30, a good hour after they've wrapped for the day. Gero isn't sure exactly what happened out there, but it's the midseason crunch, they're short on time and money, and tempers are bound to flare; it's just that point in the season. Still, though he gave up on his rewrite two hours ago, he's waited around to make sure that's all it was.
"Martin?" he says, knocking on his open door and taking a tentative step into the office.
Martin motions him in. "Shut the door," he says.
Gero does, then settles into a chair. "So. You want to tell me what that was all about?"
"Nothing," Martin says. "Everything? That's the hell of it." He rubs at his face and sighs. "You know how I'm always saying that if this job wore me down, that if I were pissed off and yelling all the time I'd probably start looking for another job?"
"Yeah."
"I thought about looking for another job today."
"What's going on?"
Martin shrugs. "Everything and nothing," he repeats. "Rachel's pregnant, Jane's pregnant, Joe's got something going on with his management, Jason's something going on at home, the budget's tight, the films are bleeding our crew…take your pick. Today I just needed a break. I couldn't deal with Bam Bam anymore and I needed a break. I figure every hundred episodes or so a man's entitled."
Gero nods. "Still," he points out reasonably, "middle of the shooting day? Probably not the best time to take it."
"Well, no," Martin agrees. "But I was really fucking hungry, too."
"And the key lime pie was good," Gero admits.
"Yeah," Martin says, smiling ruefully. "It was. I don't know. Maybe I've just been doing this too long."
"Can't say that yet. Word has it we've got another season ahead of us."
"Really?" Martin says. "And here I thought your money was on us getting the axe."
"Well, a wise man once told me not to count my chickens until they've hatched. He also said, 'Man who tell one too many light bulb jokes soon burn out,' so, y'know, take it with a grain of salt."
Martin shakes his head, but he's hiding a smile.
"By the way," Gero adds, "'putting out fires?' Was that really the best you could do?"
"Hey, there's a reason I'm not a writer."
"You're not kidding, Mediocre Martin."
Martin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Get the hell out of here, Gero."
"See you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow."
-----
Principal photography is nearly at a close before Martin gets that same tired, frustrated look about him again. As filming on the finale begins, people are starting to worry about their jobs in earnest and the rate at which the producers are receiving notes from the network doesn't ease anyone's concerns. Tensions are running high and while Martin doesn't look ready to cut and run quite yet, it's only a matter of time.
So Gero takes matters into his own hands and with a little fancy footwork (and no small amount of bribery) manages to clear Martin's schedule for lunch on an almost sunny Tuesday afternoon. He's nothing if not a man with a plan so he makes his invitation in style, sneaking into Martin's office and propping a note written in all caps just because Martin hates it ("ELEMENTS @ 1:30. THEY HAVE SPOTTED COW CHEESECAKE. WHAT IS SPOTTED COW CHEESECAKE?") up against a gift he bought weeks ago and has been saving for just such an occasion. Then he sneaks back to his own office, pages Martin, and kicks his feet up on his desk, waiting to bask in the glory of his own genius.
Ten minutes later Martin's leaning in his doorway, the note in one hand and a bright red fireman's helmet in the other. He's grinning.
"What, no fire truck?" he asks. "Is this really the best you can do?"
Gero grins back. "Just for that, you're buying."
"I bought last time."
"Hey, I called it. They're your rules."
"Next season," Martin says. "Next season, the rules are going to change."
Pairing: Martin Gero, Martin Wood
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2000
Summary: Key lime pie, a fireman's hat, and Confucius are the best Martin can do.
Notes: Blame the Martins for being so ridiculously awesome in commentary. Also, many thanks to melloniel for the beta.
Originally Posted: November 4, 2007
Soon Burn Out
"Hey," Martin says, ducking into Gero's office and pulling the door shut behind him. "Elements for lunch?"
Gero's frowning at a marked-up up script rewrite and doesn't even spare him a glance. "What?"
Martin sighs. "Elements," he repeats. "For lunch?"
"Yeah, no, I got that," Gero says, flipping pages. "But you're shooting. You don't have time for lunch."
"You're right," Martin says, "I don't have time. I just think it's fun running the stairs to get to your office."
His tone is sharper than usual and when Gero looks over at him, he sees that Martin is tired, frustrated. "What's up?" he asks, setting his script aside.
Martin sinks into a chair. "Stunt sequence," he says dismissively. "Bam Bam has to recalibrate something or other and it's setting us back."
"Ah," Gero says wisely. "The greatly feared thingamjig malfunction."
"Exactly."
"Y'know, the only thing that breaks more than the thingamajig is the whatsitcalled. We really ought to get those replaced."
Martin's phone rings, some nondescript jingly-jangly tone. He pulls it out of his pocket, frowns at the caller ID, and cuts the ringer mid-jangle. Gero looks at him questioningly, but Martin shrugs it off. "Not in the budget," he says, returning to the conversation. At this point in the season, that's pretty much the answer to everything.
"Damn budget."
Martin doesn't disagree. "Come on, let's go. You drive."
"Why do I have to drive? I drove last time."
"Because I called it."
"You called it? What are we, ten?"
"Shut up," Martin says, tossing Gero's keys at him. "You'd have called it first if you'd thought about it."
"Yeah," Gero says, "True."
He locks the door behind them and they navigate the maze of industrial green hallways they long ago agreed would make a great set for a horror film. As they pass Joe Mallozzi's office, Gero says loudly, "I think I have a solution to all our budget woes, by the way."
"Yeah?" Martin says. "What's that?"
"Get rid of Mallozzi and his foodie crap. His business lunches alone -- have you seen those expense reports?"
"I can hear you!" Joe hollers from his office.
"I mean, really," Gero continues blithely, "what kind of guy eats crisp pork belly and corn and cheese ice cream? Something's got to be wrong with him. He's got to be at least a little unhinged."
"You ate it, too! And did I mention I can hear you, asshole?" Joe hollers, louder this time.
"And don't even get me started on Baron Destructo," Gero says as they turn down another hallway. "Who picks a supervillain alter ego based on the feudal system?" A baseball comes hurtling down the hallway, but Baron Destructo's powers do not, apparently, include aiming around corners. "A supervillain with bad aim!" Gero adds over his shoulder.
Martin laughs, but they pick up the pace and hurry outside just the same. "He's going to kill you, you know," Martin says.
"Slowly and painfully," Gero agrees, but the impending doom is worth it to get Martin laughing again.
-----
Once they're out of the studio Martin looks more relaxed, though that's not saying much. The day's shooting schedule doesn't seem that tight so whatever problem Bam Bam's encountered must have really set them back. But it looks like the last thing Martin wants to talk about, so Gero opts for an entirely different conversational tack -- one he hasn't attempted before because it calls for a very delicate blend of subtlety and nonchalance.
"So," he says, "what you think you might be doing next year if the show doesn't, uh, y'know, get picked up?"
He really needs to work on his subtlety. And nonchalance.
Martin gives him a look that says as much. "The show's going to get picked up," he says, with the tired air of someone who's already had this conversation more than once. "They'll probably make us sweat it out, but they'll pick it up. It's too soon to be worrying about that, anyway."
"Yeah," Gero says, poking at what's left of his egg salad sandwich, "it's really not."
"You'll be fine. We'll get picked up and you'll have another whole season to try to get that Dr. Pepper bit in."
Gero's automatically defensive. "The Dr. Pepper bit is really funny."
"That's why it's been cut, what -- three times already?"
"Four," Gero says, a bit of McKay in his tone. "Fifth time's the charm."
"Keep telling yourself that."
"I'm telling you that it's really--"
Martin's phone goes off again, jingle jangle. He checks the caller ID, cuts the ringer, and sticks the phone back in his pocket. Martin's usually good about answering his phone; it's not like him to keep blatantly ignoring it.
"What's going on?" Gero asks.
"Nothing," Martin says. "It can wait."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Martin flags down the waitress for more iced tea, then takes his time stirring in two fake sugars. "So," he finally says, "how's Stephanie? Got any plans for her birthday yet?"
Gero thinks Martin needs to work on his subject changing as much as he needs to work on his subtle nonchalance, but he's kind enough to refrain from pointing that out. "Next month," he says instead. "I was thinking a weekend at a B&B, but that's so…conventional."
"What did you want to do, take her skydiving?"
"Nothing that extreme. Just something memorable."
"You'll think of something, I'm su--" Martin's phone goes off a third time, the jingle jangle replaced by the ominous sound of the Imperial March. That means it's either Brad or Rob -- Jason spent a long afternoon on set swindling people out of their phones just to reprogram their ringers -- and Martin turns his phone off completely.
"You're sure everything's fine," Gero says, and tries not to make it sound like a question.
"Yes," Martin says firmly. He pushes his plate aside and reaches for the small menu card on the table stand. "I want dessert. You want dessert?"
"You have time?"
"They have key lime pie. There's always time for key lime pie."
Gero's not really going to argue with that. "Okay," he says, "but you're buying. I called it."
-----
It's another twenty minutes before they get back to the studio. Gero follows Martin to the effects stage, curious about what's going on. The answer becomes clear when Bam Bam breaks away from a circle of waiting crew and stuntmen and heads straight for Martin the moment he steps onto the soundstage.
"Where the hell've you been?" he demands. "I tell you we're ready to shoot and then you just disappear? My people work harder than yours do, take risks yours don't, and when they're ready to go you should be ready to go, not off doing whatever you damn well please for hours at a time while we sit around and wait! You couldn't even pick up your goddamn phone? What the fuck, Martin?"
Martin sighs, but holds his hands up placatingly. "I'm sorry," he says. "I had to put out some fires that just couldn't wait. I wasn't trying to put anybody off, and I'm sorry for the delay. But if everybody's ready, we can go ahead and--"
"We've fucking been ready, Martin, that's the point!"
"I know," he says. "I heard you. But this really couldn't wait."
"He's right," Gero says, stepping up from behind Martin. "It was one of those last minute things -- wasn't much we could do. We got in and out as quickly as we could."
"I'm sorry," Martin says again. "I really am."
"So, what?" Bam Bam says, as though he's expecting more. "That's it?"
"Yeah," Martin says. "What more do you want?"
Bam Bam looks far from appeased, but with the rest of the crew standing by he's not willing to push the issue further. "Fine," he says shortly.
"My apologies to everyone," Martin says to the room at large. "Now, if someone will call Jason so he and Lani can run through their final blocking, we can get started."
-----
Martin doesn't make it back to his office until 9:30, a good hour after they've wrapped for the day. Gero isn't sure exactly what happened out there, but it's the midseason crunch, they're short on time and money, and tempers are bound to flare; it's just that point in the season. Still, though he gave up on his rewrite two hours ago, he's waited around to make sure that's all it was.
"Martin?" he says, knocking on his open door and taking a tentative step into the office.
Martin motions him in. "Shut the door," he says.
Gero does, then settles into a chair. "So. You want to tell me what that was all about?"
"Nothing," Martin says. "Everything? That's the hell of it." He rubs at his face and sighs. "You know how I'm always saying that if this job wore me down, that if I were pissed off and yelling all the time I'd probably start looking for another job?"
"Yeah."
"I thought about looking for another job today."
"What's going on?"
Martin shrugs. "Everything and nothing," he repeats. "Rachel's pregnant, Jane's pregnant, Joe's got something going on with his management, Jason's something going on at home, the budget's tight, the films are bleeding our crew…take your pick. Today I just needed a break. I couldn't deal with Bam Bam anymore and I needed a break. I figure every hundred episodes or so a man's entitled."
Gero nods. "Still," he points out reasonably, "middle of the shooting day? Probably not the best time to take it."
"Well, no," Martin agrees. "But I was really fucking hungry, too."
"And the key lime pie was good," Gero admits.
"Yeah," Martin says, smiling ruefully. "It was. I don't know. Maybe I've just been doing this too long."
"Can't say that yet. Word has it we've got another season ahead of us."
"Really?" Martin says. "And here I thought your money was on us getting the axe."
"Well, a wise man once told me not to count my chickens until they've hatched. He also said, 'Man who tell one too many light bulb jokes soon burn out,' so, y'know, take it with a grain of salt."
Martin shakes his head, but he's hiding a smile.
"By the way," Gero adds, "'putting out fires?' Was that really the best you could do?"
"Hey, there's a reason I'm not a writer."
"You're not kidding, Mediocre Martin."
Martin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Get the hell out of here, Gero."
"See you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow."
-----
Principal photography is nearly at a close before Martin gets that same tired, frustrated look about him again. As filming on the finale begins, people are starting to worry about their jobs in earnest and the rate at which the producers are receiving notes from the network doesn't ease anyone's concerns. Tensions are running high and while Martin doesn't look ready to cut and run quite yet, it's only a matter of time.
So Gero takes matters into his own hands and with a little fancy footwork (and no small amount of bribery) manages to clear Martin's schedule for lunch on an almost sunny Tuesday afternoon. He's nothing if not a man with a plan so he makes his invitation in style, sneaking into Martin's office and propping a note written in all caps just because Martin hates it ("ELEMENTS @ 1:30. THEY HAVE SPOTTED COW CHEESECAKE. WHAT IS SPOTTED COW CHEESECAKE?") up against a gift he bought weeks ago and has been saving for just such an occasion. Then he sneaks back to his own office, pages Martin, and kicks his feet up on his desk, waiting to bask in the glory of his own genius.
Ten minutes later Martin's leaning in his doorway, the note in one hand and a bright red fireman's helmet in the other. He's grinning.
"What, no fire truck?" he asks. "Is this really the best you can do?"
Gero grins back. "Just for that, you're buying."
"I bought last time."
"Hey, I called it. They're your rules."
"Next season," Martin says. "Next season, the rules are going to change."