Totally Plausible written: October 27, 2006 For Shanalle's two-lines challenge. There's one timeline glitch, but I don't think it detracts from the story. Unbeta'd for grammar, so please forgive the semicolon abuse. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ everybody wants to be just like me i'm naked and famous -presidents of the united states of america - 'naked and famous' "Oh my gosh, you guys, it's here!" The sound of the lathe drowned out Kari's voice. Tory pulled off his earphones and shouted over the noise. "What?" Kari held the brown envelope at arm's length. "I said it's here!" Tory elbowed Adam in the gut; Adam glanced up from the spinning lathe and raised a single red eyebrow at the sight of Kari bouncing on the balls of her feet. Into his ear Tory yelled, "The mail came." Adam pulled the earphone off his left ear. "What?" "I SAID THE MAIL CAME!" "Oh." Adam hit the switch with his arm and the lathe ground to a whiny halt. "Come on you guys!" Kari was hopping now, pulling at the fastening of the envelope. "Check it out!" "Alright, alright," said Tory. He pushed his goggles up into the spikes of his hair and tossed his gloves on the counter. "Keep your panties on." "Let's open it on the draft table before you pull out all the power cords," said Adam. "Where's everybody else?" "GRANT SCOTTIE JAMIE GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE!" Adam wiggled a finger in one ear. "Yes, thank you, Tory." Brushing the dust from their clothes they followed Kari out of the lathe station; she was still bouncing in her Docs, squeaking with joy as she tore into the manila packaging. Jamie was already sitting on the far side of the drafting table, squinting through a magnifying glass at the fine electrical soldering he'd been working on all afternoon. He glanced up as the noisy party approached. "Jamie, it's here!" Kari cried, waving the envelope. Before Jamie could reply, Grant and Scottie emerged from one of the storage rooms. Scottie was wiping grease from her hands with a towel. "What's all the racket in here?" Seeing what was in Kari's hands she grinned and said, "So it finally got here, huh? Well, let's see it! Rip that bad boy open!" Kari put her hand in the envelope and paused. She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, but now that it had arrived she found herself hesitating. What if it sucked? What if she looked like a big goober? What if Tory laughed at her? What if Adam and Jamie didn't approve? "Come on, Kari, don't leave us hangin!" Scottie said. "Yeah," said Tory, "You didn't call us all over here for nothin." Grant smirked. "As if you needed a reason for another break." Kari pulled out the envelope's contents and placed it on the table. The magazine was brand new, extra glossy in the studio track lighting. There was a green Post-It note sticking out from the pages. Kari flipped to the marked spot and laid the magazine open for all to see. Her jaw dropped. "Holy shit, Kerr!" cried Scottie. "You look amazing!" Tory and Adam leaned in for a closer look. Adam was nodding; Tory whistled and slapped Kari on the shoulder. "Well done, my lady, that is quite the awesome." She couldn't believe it was really her — her, Kari Byron, airbrushed to a gleam and winking coyly from the pages of an FHM layout. The pictures were better than she'd hoped — not too posed, not too plastic, just over-the-top enough to be funny. She was pretty sure they'd given her far more cleavage than God had, but that was okay — all in the name of public relations, right? For a minute she stood there, staring at the shiny pin-up version of herself with one hand over her mouth and a big stupid grin on her face. "Well, say something," said Adam. "Whaddya think?" She looked up at his grinning face and was surprised to find that, instead of answering, she bit her lip. She'd known the shoot would be sexy (duh, that was kinda the point), but some of the shots were pretty blunt on the phallic innuendo... using lab equipment from the M5 offices. She'd had the full go-ahead beforehand, but suddenly the reality of the situation seemed a little different from the idea. "Is it... is it okay, Adam?" He gave her a 100-watt smile, teeth shining against the lathe-dust coating his freckled face. "I think it's awesome, Kari." She clapped her hands and squealed, making everyone laugh again at her delight. "What say, G?" Scottie said to Grant. "Did you know Byron had tits like that?" "Scottie!" Grant's eyes darted to Kari's tank top and then quickly away. His cheeks flushed just pink enough to make Scottie laugh louder. "Aw, c'mon, don't be embarrassed! We're all brothers and sisters here." She grabbed Grant around the shoulders and smiled at Kari. "Tell the girl she looks alright." Kari threw him a mischievous smile; Grant ignored the lewd faces Tory was making beside him and said, "It's really great, Kari. Congratulations." "Yes, congratulations, Miss Byron." Adam took off his hat and bowed. "You have now officially arrived. Getting naked in men's magazines is one step closer to pop culture infamy." "She's not naked! She's fully clothed!" said Scottie. "Well, mostly. And don't tell me that if you had a body like that you wouldn't be strutting it for the cameras every chance you got." "He already does," said Tory. "Didn't you see him at the pier yesterday?" He and Grant began mimicking Adam as he disrobed for the swimming experiment, glorying in the luminescent white flesh displayed for all to see. Kari laughed behind her hands. "Hey, I'm serious," Adam said. "If you're nobody and you take your clothes off, that's exploitation. If you're naked and famous — that's success." The boys clapped and hooted — Kari returned Adam's high-five, still laughing. "Well, I hope you can be as successful someday." "God, no!" cried Grant. "There aren't enough sunglasses in San Francisco!" He ducked behind Tory to dodge the piece of Styrofoam Adam threw at him. Kari flipped through the spread one more time, looking over each picture more carefully. When she was finished, Scottie reached for the magazine. "Hey Jamie, did you get a look?" She slid it across the table toward him. "Did you see how pretty our Miss Kari is?" Jamie didn't look up from his work, still peering at the delicate circuits beneath his magnifying glass. "I'll look at it later," he said. "I have to finish this." "C'mon, Jamie, she's reeeeally purrrty." Scottie wiggled the pages in front of him; when he gave no reaction she held the magazine in front of her nose and spoke in falsetto. "Hi, Jamieeee, see how short my lab coat is?" Jamie stood up abruptly and pulled the soldering iron from its socket. "I said I'd look at it later. Some of us actually have some work to get done around here." Without another word he scooped his box of materials and toolkit and stalked off toward his office. Scottie stuck her tongue out after him. "Who pissed in his Cheerios?" "Don't pay any attention," said Grant. "He's been weird all afternoon." They all went back to chattering over the photos, but Kari watched Jamie's door close and looked over at Adam. He grinned at her and shook his head, and a second later Tory said something loud and inappropriate and they all started laughing again as Kari leaned over the table to read through the article with Scottie. --- "Pull it tighter, Kari!" "I am pulling it — hold it up on your end!" The rig began to creak under the strain; they shifted their weight and tried again. The pulley turned another inch and drew the tubing even tighter between them. There was no way it was going to hold under that much pressure. Adam had that look on his face, the determined scowl of I-will-make-this-work-or-kill-you-all-trying; they braced their feet and pulled one more time. Kari was just thinking to herself, man, I bet surgical tubing would really hurt if it — when a sound like a gunshot whipped through the workshop. "Ow!" She sat down hard and grabbed her right ankle; the rig crashed to the floor behind her to the sound of Adam swearing and production assistants running for cover. She felt tears pricking behind her eyes; she peeled her hand back from its death grip and risked a peek. The tubing had caught her across the tendon — her ankle, bloodless white between the cuff of her chinos and the frayed top of her Chuck Taylors, was already swelling around a vicious welt. The blood blister was spreading beneath her skin but her ankle was numb from the shock. She tried to wiggle her toes but couldn't. Adam and Grant were crouching beside her before her yelp had finished echoing off the rafters. Grant's hands were on her shoulders, and The Look had vanished from Adam's face. "Are you alright?" "I'm not bleeding." She pulled back her hand and Grant grimaced. "Jesus. Come on, let's get you inside. Can you walk?" "Don't try," Adam said. She could hear his dad voice coming out and tried not to smile. Grant helped her up and her full weight fell on her foot, and not smiling was suddenly much easier. They helped her, one on each side, hopping her way into the inner offices where the first-aid kits were. Across the studio she could hear techs and interns buzzing, and she didn't need to crane her neck to see the camera man trailing behind them. She made a mental note to call her mom and tell her which episode not to watch. Jamie opened the door to let them in. He already had his business face on — which, when Kari thought about it, probably wasn't much different from his pleasure face. She choked back a giggle at the thought and Jamie raised an eyebrow at her as they passed. "What happened?" "Pulley rig broke," Adam said. "The tubing got her across the ankle." "It's OK," Kari said quickly. She enjoyed being the girlie-girl around this place but not when they were all looking at her like that. "I'm fine. Nothing's broken." "You don't know that for sure. There's a lot of force in that thing." Jamie cleared a stack of folders off his desk and gestured with his head. "Let me see." "You want me to sit on your desk?" "Would you rather I called the EMTs?" Kari sat on the desk, using Adam and Grant's shoulders to boost herself up. Her ass hit the blotter with a smack and she saw Adam's eyebrows waggle. "I heard that, Savage." "I didn't say a word!" "This desk is flimsy, OK? And you're a married man." He leered at her; she stuck out her tongue. Jamie rolled his eyes. "Adam, get me the compression bandage out of the kitchen kit, will ya?" "I'll grab some ice," said Grant. He and Adam left the office in opposite directions and the room grew decidedly quieter. Jamie pulled on the lace of Kari's shoe and she jerked. "Ow! That hurts!" "Then hold still." He picked at the knot to untie it but his blunt fingers wouldn't fit through the loops. He frowned. "Here, let me do it." She reached down between his fingers and slipped the laces free with ease. Jamie pulled off her shoe and she bit back a yelp. It wouldn't do to be a wuss around the soldier. Time to suck it up. She was just glad her sockless feet weren't too sweaty today. The shock of the blow was wearing off; where before it was limp and numb her ankle was now starting to throb with a slow, ominous pain. The welt where the tubing had hit was a splotched purple bruise and the skin around it was already swollen and stiff. She knew it wasn't broken, but she sure wasn't looking forward to waking up tomorrow morning. Below her Jamie was grumbling in irritation. "If I've told you once, I've told you two a thousand times, use proper safety gear." "I'm sorry, Dad, I forgot my ankle helmet this morning." She grinned down at him, dangling her bangs between them, but he was not smiling. The furrow between his brows had turned into Red Rock Canyon. Her grin disappeared. He took her foot in his right hand; his fingers went all the way around the sole and met at the top of her instep. He wrapped his left hand around her calf just below the cuff of her chinos. He eased her foot upwards — it hurt like hell, but nothing made any unnatural noises. She felt his fingers flex, one by one, tiny variations of pressure as he adjusted his grip. All the way back — all the way down — left, right, a slow circle through the full range of motion. The circulation was coming back in prickly waves; her skin grew warm beneath his fingers. Her heartbeat thumped in the stripe under his palm. Jamie shook his head. "It's not broken." "Why thank you, Mr. Willoughby." His eyebrow quirked until it disappeared into his beret. She couldn't hide her grin. "It's a book." From the corner of her eye she saw Adam and Grant approaching the office door. Leaning back on her palms on top of his paperwork she said more loudly, "But I forgot soldier boys can't read." His mustache twitched exactly as she expected, ruffled by his indignant snort, and she smiled brightly as the boys blustered through the door. His face flushed like it always did when he was readying a sharp retort, but the comeback never came. Instead he just looked at her, the unused wit twinkling in his eye, and she blinked down at him until Adam slammed the roll of bandages onto the desk beside her and made her jump. "She gonna live, Doc?" She found his concern truly moving. He had a new pulley in his other hand and The Look was steadily returning to his face. In the standard response, Jamie rolled his eyes and frowned. "I think she'll pull through. I'd sue your ass if I were her, though." "Hey, I had everything under control out there—" "Yeah, I saw your 'control' and I told you you can't—" "Don't even start that shit with me because I—" They yelled at each other for the next five minutes while the entire production crew watched from the other side of the glass. The sheer volume of swearing was so entertaining that it wasn't until minute four that Kari realized Jamie's hand was still on her calf. He bound her ankle while arguing, without even looking at her. As the bandage wrapped around the welt his thumb moved in a tiny circle across her skin. He never stopped yelling. --- "Here, Miss Byron, this one's yours." Kari lifted her head from the table long enough to squint at the cup in front of her. "No, that's Grant's." She put her head back into the pillow of her arms; she was so glad she'd chosen these arm-warmers today. They were most comfy. The intern re-read the scribbled Sharpie on the paper cup. "Oh, right, my bad." He handed the cup to Grant, who took it gratefully. "One large decaf mocha with Splenda." "Doesn't that stuff give you head cancer?" said Tory. "Sugar makes my hands shake," replied Grant. "I can risk the head cancer or I can let Adam wire the explosive switches." "Splenda. Mmmm." The intern handed Tory his cup next: "One large mocha, double shot, extra whip, extra chocolate." Tory scooped a blob of whipped cream from the top and shoved his finger into his mouth. Kari, who had raised her head again, grimaced in disgust. "OK, this one's yours, Miss Byron. Medium caramel macchiato, no whip, with soy milk." "Ugh, talk about head cancer," said Tory. She opened her mouth to reply; he stuck out his chocolate-and-whipped-cream coated tongue at her. She shuddered and drank her coffee. This was so not in her contract. "Mr. Savage? House blend, black, extra strong, and I am totally not cleaning your bathroom today." Adam pushed back his hat and took a huge swallow. "Mmmm, colonically delicious." The intern traded a look of horror with Grant and then passed a cup to Scottie. "One chai latte, extra spice." He plucked the last cup from the container and tossed the holder into the recycling. "And herbal tea for Mr. Hyneman, no sugar. Catch ya'll later, my work here is done." When the intern had scampered away Scottie stifled a yawn. "I don't know how that kid can be that chipper this early in the morning." "That's why we pay him the big bucks," said Adam. "We don't pay him," said Jamie. "I know. Ahahaha!" Kari leaned on one elbow across the table and sipped her coffee. These early-morning meetings were a total pain in the ass. But, it was either that or start the day after the camera crew arrived, and nobody wanted to be seen on TV pre-morning-beverage, so this sneaky solution had become a necessary evil. After half a cup of macchiato she was starting to feel awake, but it was ungodly how some of these guys were such morning people. Especially Adam, whose sudden thwack of palms on the table nearly made her spill her drink on her fuzzy arm-warmers. "OK! Let's get this show on the road. We're late already and the crew'll be here any minute — I'd really like to have a game plan before the producer's meeting." Scottie blew across the top of her chai. "What do we got?" Adam fished through the pile strewn across the table — folders, notebooks, Post-It notes, production memos. "If we want to do the detonation today we're going to have to get some other stuff done this morning. Those foam cubes need to be cut so the techs can start painting them, and Tory's molds have to come out of chill. How are the gear sets?" "I can finish the frames in an hour. I just need the fuses so I can thread them through in time for the detonation." "I'm almost done with those," said Grant. "If everything's set up we can do the detonation this afternoon." "That's what I'm talking about!" said Tory. "We haven't blown shit up in almost a week. I'm getting blueballs over here." "TMI, TMI," said Kari. "Inside voice, remember?" "We can't do the detonation today." Jamie took a sip of tea and wiped his mustache with his thumb. "The circuitry for the robot myth still has to be tested and we can't spare enough people for a proper setup." "Sure we can," said Adam. He pointed at an open folder. "We can push the circuit test back till Thursday, get the production assistants to cut the cubes this morning, and put all the main crew on the detonation." Jamie shook his head. "Those gear sets have to be completely finished if we want a decent result. And Kari's ankle still isn't 100% — we need everyone on their feet if we're gonna fire anything dangerous." Oh, great, thought Kari. Now I'm the reason nobody gets to play with explosives today. Thanks a lot, Jamie. No way was she going to let that go without a protest. She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could comment Scottie beat her to it. "So I put off the mechanics till tomorrow and help Grant finish the gears, the rest of you set up the blast site, and when we fire you can keep Kari at your station where it's safest." Kari looked at her. Scottie gave her a smirk. "Can't leave the feeble females unattended, now can we?" "Sounds good to me," said Grant. "Shouldn't be too hard. Anything to keep Tory from mentioning his balls ever ever again." They all looked at Tory, who had his empty cup upended over his mouth to catch drops of chocolate on his outstretched tongue. He saw them watching and wiped his mouth. "What?" Adam shrugged. "Fine with me. Jamie?" Jamie glared down at the production schedule, his arms crossed, one finger tapping against the side of his cup. Finally he nodded. "OK. Let's set it up. Grant and Scottie can finish the prep, Adam and Tory can set up the perimeter and take the blast shield on the right, and I'll take the firing switch from the left side with Kari." "Right on!" Scottie tossed her empty cup into the trash can and stretched. "C'mon G, we got plenty of time to get our build on and still watch the big boom." Adam made a few notes and gathered up the piles of paper. "I'll call the fire crew and tell them we're set up for a 4:00 detonation." Jamie picked up his folders and tucked his tea cup into the crook of his arm. He stuck his pen into the gap between his hat and his glasses. "Kari, you're with me at 2:30 for setup." She put her cup on the table and clicked her heels together, saluting him with one pink-and-black-striped arm. "Yes sir, oh captain my captain!" He blinked at her, then shook his head before walking away. She held the salute until he was halfway down the hall, then turned toward the supply closet, still grinning. Scottie was still leaning across the table, watching; she winked at Kari from beneath her kerchief. Kari dropped her arm and her grin; she drank the rest of her coffee and threw the cup away before heading to the supply closet as the camera crew began to file in. --- "Has anybody seen my welding gloves?" Nobody had, apparently: not the camera guys smoking cigarettes behind the holding bay; not the interns burning popcorn in the kitchen; not the researchers leaning back in their chairs one by one as Kari scuttled breathlessly down the hallway. "John, have you seen my welding gloves?" "No, sorry, I sure haven't." From across the studio came an impatient shout from Tory. "Come on, Byron, we're waiting for you, get a move on!" "Shut up, I'll be there in a second!" "Just grab some gloves and let's go!" Kari scowled as she checked a set of cubbyholes. "I don't want a pair of gloves. I want my pair of gloves." She stooped over a box of junk and started ransacking it, tossing items into the hall behind her. "That's why I refer to them as my gloves, because I prefer them over other gloves and did in fact purchase them for my very own." She heard John the researcher chuckling from his cubicle and her scowl deepened. "Come on, Kari, let's go, the clock is ticking!" She stood up and yelled. "Well then you can just take the clock and shove it straight up your — oh, hi Jamie." He was coming out of the printing room, thumbing through a folder of papers. He glanced at the path of destruction around her. "Problems?" "Have you seen my welding gloves? I can't find them anywhere." "Nope, sure haven't. Can't you just grab one of the spares?" "No way, dude. Tory wears those every day and I don't even want to think about where his hands have been." Jamie snorted. "Can't argue with you there." She bent over and started retrieving the things she'd scattered across the hall, tossing them back into the storage box. Her hair was starting to fall from its ponytail; she swiped her bangs from her face with the back of one hand. "Kaaarrriiiiiii—" "I SAID I'M COMING!" From the next room came the sound of breaking glass as an intern dropped a popcorn bowl. Jamie's snort became a chuckle. "Look, I just got a shipment of stuff yesterday — it's in a box behind my desk. I know there's a size small glove in there. Just go get them." She dumped an armful into the box and smiled. "Oh, thanks, Jamie, you're a lifesaver. I'll put them back this afternoon." "Don't worry about it. Just get that welding done so we can get to the blowing-stuff-up part." Opening his folder he walked off toward the research room, pushing his glasses up on his nose, absorbed again in what he was reading. Kari shoved the lid back on the box and sprinted down the hall to Jamie's office. The lights were off; she flicked them on and looked around until she spotted the UPS box in the corner. She moved a jar of pens and a crash helmet off the top, pulled open the flaps and dug around inside — sure enough there was an assortment of gloves, brand new and still in the plastic. She pulled out two smalls, shut the box and turned to scurry out before Tory burst a blood vessel waiting for her to return. Jamie's desk was spotless as usual, papers arranged in order, a pile of books and magazines perched tidily on one corner. Kari stopped in her tracks, her eyes going wide. She tilted her head to read the spines lined up beneath some sci-fi novel and a sticky-note pad — Popular Mechanics, Natural History Today, The Journal of Mechanical Engineering, Top Gear Year in Review, and the June 2006 issue of FHM. "Kari, where the hell are you?!" She jerked and looked up, craning her neck to yell through the open door. "I'm on my way!" She stuck the gloves under her arm and left the office as quickly as she'd come in, turning off the light behind her. Halfway out the door, she realized she was laughing. --- "You guys reading everything OK?" "Roger that, Adam, radio's working fine." "Perimeter, how we doing?" "You're all clear from this point; detonation is go." "Cameras?" "We're good, we're rolling, all set." "Roger that. OK, people, let's do this! Fire in the hole!" "Fire in the hole!" "Detonation number two, circuitry explosion, and 3...2...1..." The shock wave rattled the safety shield an inch back towards Kari's face. An instant later the sound of it blasted past her earphones. Thwoooom. An orange fireball uncurled in a perfect roar into the clear blue afternoon sky. Kari screamed. "Yes! YES!! Woooo!" She could hear Adam's whoop from across the parking lot; random crew members were clapping and cheering from various corners of the bay. Pieces of shrapnel began to rain down on the pavement as the smell of burnt powder stung Kari's nose. Beside her, Jamie was laughing. "That. Was. Awesome! Jamie, did you see that?" "Yes, well, I did pull the trigger." Kari brushed her bangs back from her face with both hands, still laughing in exuberance. Their camera crew, satisfied with their reaction shots, left them alone and headed over to the blast site to get the first glimpse of the damage. The interns who had congregated to watch chatted amongst themselves as they filed back into the building. Through the radio came Adam's tinny but ecstatic voice. "That frigging rocked! Let's do it again!" "Get it cleared up and we'll reset," said Jamie. "Twenty minutes to second fire." Kari's knees were getting scraped from flailing around on the concrete. She flopped back on her haunches and leaned against the shield, pulling her earphones down around her neck as she tried to catch her breath. "That looked so cool. Did you see the smoke? I bet the fuse was— ouch!" The scab on her ankle scraped against a hinge and she jerked, losing her balance and sitting down hard on the pavement. Jamie grabbed both her arms to steady her; she held onto a fold of his white shirt to keep herself from falling over. "Easy there, Sparky, don't kill yourself with the excitement." She was too stoked for it really to have hurt; the rush from the explosion was still high and the old joke came out before she even realized it. "Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited." She waited for the retort, or at least the dark cheeks and gruff mumble of another gibe well done. A second ticked by, then another. Jamie's hands were still around her arms. She felt giddy, the past week and the past day catching up with her all at once — it was too much to contain. She cocked her head at him and grinned. "Well? It's your line." She barely had time to gasp before his weight made her back squeak against the battered blast shield. Her sneakers skittered across loose bits of gravel. What do you know, she thought, as her eyes closed and her fingers curled in his white shirt. He does have lips under there after all. Jamie tilted his head and opened his mouth, and her inner monologue dissolved into radio static. Her heart was pounding in her ears when he drew back. His palms lay flat against her ribs, his thumbs resting just beneath the edge of her black lace bra. They moved in tiny strokes with each of her breaths. When he smiled, his mustache tickled the corners of her mouth. "Sorry, sweetheart, we don't have time for anything else." Kari looked up into Jamie's face. A second dose of adrenaline raced in her blood, an entirely different rush mixed with the familiar exhilaration of playing with fire. She shifted against the plexiglas and grinned, enjoying the thrill of a freshly-lit fuse. "Looks to me like we've got twenty minutes." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ back