Rekindled

Under Pressure

In our profession, we need to learn to be flexible. We have to adapt to our environment, whether that would be during an audition when the casting director provides us with a little different direction than we were hoping to portray the character with, or on location when the weather just isn't cooperating and you really long to just be in your trailer with a cup of hot chocolate, or even more so, when you just want to get home to your loved ones and forget all about this career. There are moments where we have to remember why we chose this career and that it is worthwhile when you can provide a little relief to someone's life for that hour and a half that they watch you on screen. Quite a few people think that its the awards that mean the most to us, and don't get me wrong, they do but really its the thanks we get from the fans that make those hours, days, and sometimes in my case, even months worth of gruelling schedules and work really worth it.

There are moments that make you remember why you chose this career in the first place.

This was not that moment.

"Do you think that Will would be up for doing one last Hot Tub Lovers sketch?" Jimmy mumbled to himself, rubbing his face before he leaned over his keyboard, furiously writing in his Word document. "Of course he would, that is a stupid question." I smiled as I flipped through the Rolling Stone he had laying on the couch that I had sprawled out on. Sanz was busy tossing cheetos into his mouth. Neither of us bothered to answer Jimmy's question before he did so himself merely because we knew that it was a rhetorical one. Jimmy had a habit of talking to himself, especially when he was stressed or deep in thought. Today was no different. "So, Will and Dratch. I'm in this obviously." He muttered, his voice low and gravely. He was fighting a bit of a summer cold but he was too stubborn to take anything for it. Ever since his surgery, he's tried his best to not depend on any "Western Medicine" of any kind as he so affectionately put it. This phrase always made me laugh because it's not like he wasn't from here. The reality of the situation was that he had become easily angered and just all around agitated when he was on the painkillers. He didn't like the way they made him feel, several times stating that he had a hard time concentrating with them and as time went on, he found it harder to concentrate without them. He felt himself becoming dependent on them and because of that he quit that and damn near every other medicine cold turkey. He even went so far as to turn down the occasional tylenol or Advil, which I found a little absurd, but if that's what made him feel better then as his wife, I would support him. "Winona?" He asked, again to no one in particular. This time I spoke up. "You always have the host play the love interest for Dave, I don't see why you would switch it up this time."

"Except for the fact that she glances to the pants every time she's around him. You don't want another bitch sniffing around your man, do you?" I chuckled as Jimmy picked up a pen and threw it at him without even glancing away from his sketch. "What?!" Sanz exclaimed, picking up the pen off the floor and chucking it back to my husband, who dodged it easily. Again, without looking away from his work he thrusted his finger towards Horatio's face. "You know what. First of all, don't call the host, or a woman in general, a bitch."
"I was meaning, like a dog, hence the sniffing joke?" Jimmy waved him off, frowning as he went back to type furiously into his word document. "Regardless, we don't talk about women like that. And secondly, she could "sniff" around all she likes, I'm not interested in the slightest. I have a smokin' hot wife and she's all I need." I smiled at him and tossed the Rolling Stone onto his desk, hopping up and running my fingers through his shorter hair. He had recently gotten it cut and while I missed the shaggy mane he had, he looked amazing with the length he left on the top. I mussed it into a spiky mess as he tried his best to hide a little smile. "That's right, baby. Go ahead and put Winona in there. It's only right."

Jimmy nodded, chuckling as he leaned down while I stood behind him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing the nape of it. "Babe, I need to write this." His chuckle was good enough to appease Sanz, but I could feel the frustration and the agitation residing deep in his body language and his voice. "What? I can't kiss my husband?" He shook his head and I leaned over his shoulder to look into his caramelized almond eyes. "But he's so sexy and ooh.." I sighed and closed my eyes. "He's so focused and broody about his craft right now. That's my favorite. He's all I need." Jimmy's eyes flashed, and I could tell he was contemplating giving in but it was only for a moment before the determination washed back in. He shook his head and leaned forward, kissing my lips softly, before gently pushing me aside. "Honey, I love you, you know I do. But this is the finale and I really have to get this done. It's Will's last show and..." He shook his head and as he clenched his jaw, I felt the tension surrounding him. "I owe it to him. So I've got to do this. It's just so.." I looked up and made eye contact with Sanz, who was currently using a cheeto as a mustache. I gestured toward the door with my head and when he scowled in confusion, I lowered my eyes and mouthed for him to get out. He shook his head so I changed my expression to 'the look', as Jimmy so lovingly puts it. I cocked my eyebrow and reduced my eyes to mere slits, pursing my lips and tensing my body as I leaned forward towards him. Horatio's eyes widened and he quickly retreated muttering something about wardrobe before disappearing down the hallway.