Title: Mementos
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@hotmail.com)
Date: 6/12/05
Rating: G
Authors notes: Feedback can be sent to phobosgirl@hotmail.com.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. None of this is real nor should any implication be made based on this manuscript that I have any insider info on either of these two actors.
Warnings: Gale/Randy RPS
Complete: yes

Mementos

You thought you saw him slip into the costuming room so you followed and found him there alone, searching the racks of clothes that crisscross the middle of the room. You’d often thought that Patrick should have had props make up street signs to guide those who ventured into this maze, though you know that it wouldn’t matter now, anyway; things had drawn to a close and only a few of the crew would need to be in here again.

You’ve been accused of walking too quietly and startling people with your sudden appearance, so you clear your throat softly from where you stand fifteen feet behind him.

He turns, looking hurried and distracted, but he still has a smile for you when he realizes it’s you. Your gulp is inaudible to him.

“I didn’t know you’d be here today!” He pauses in his search.

“Looping,” you tell him with a smile and a shrug of your shoulders.

“Ah.” He’s already turning away, only half listening.

“What are you looking for?” you ask, taking five steps towards him. “Maybe I can help?”

“Patrick said I could have that black turtleneck from season three, remember the one?” He’s sliding hangers quickly along the clothes rods, briefly checking and rejecting each piece. “It’s so warm and soft, and Simon loved- aha!”

He snags his prize from the middle of the rack, tugging it out of the pile and holding it up to inspect it. He turns it this way and that, checking to make sure it’s still intact. You move up next to him, grace and sadness radiating from you in turns.

“It looks like it’s still in good shape,” he decides with a smile and a nod.

“You looked amazing in this,” you murmur, fingering the delicate cashmere and remembering how it looked against the pale stretch of his neck.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, surprised that you’d even noticed how he looked in anything he’d ever worn, and then decides you’re kidding him. He bumps your arm with his shoulder, giving you a playful smirk.

Your hand drops from the sweater and you turn your best shit-eating grin on him, guaranteed to assure him that you were, indeed, joking.

You ignore the clenching sensation in your chest.

“So,” he turns his face away from you and you’re stunned by how much you’re already mourning for him. His eyes graze the rows and rows of racks.

“Is there anything here you want to take home to L.A. with you?”

You blush suddenly, your eyes dropping to the floor at his feet before finding his face again.

“Yeah.” Your smile masks the words that won’t come. “There’s one thing I’d like to take with me.”

“Well,” he says, moving suddenly away from you and stepping towards the door, folding the sweater into a neat package as he goes, “you’d better hurry up and grab it. I hear the vultures are gonna Ebay whatever doesn’t go in the garage sale!”

You’re saved from coming up with a witty reply by Patrick appearing in the doorway.

“Hey, boys,” he addresses both of you, “back to raid the pantry?”

“Yeah,” Randy answers, “just wanted to get this before I leave.”

He shows the sweater to Patrick, who nods, reaching for the clipboard on his desk, his attention already on something else.

Randy stands for a moment in the doorway and waves at you, smiling beautifully.

“Kiss Kim for me,” he instructs, and you assure him that you will.

He turns to the right and disappears, heading in the direction of his trailer.

Your feet are rooted to the floor and you stare at the door, as if by sheer will you can make him return.

“Something I can get for you, Gale?”

You’d almost forgotten Patrick was still in the room.

His question bounces in your mind for a while until finally you turn your attention from the door and wink at him.

“No, there’s nothing here I want, now.”

He nods, satisfied, and wanders into the racks of clothing.

At the door, you look at the long hallway down which Randy disappeared, making up your mind.

Finally, with a decisive nod of your head, you turn, hitting the exit door to your left with your shoulder, and step out into the cold evening.

“Nope, nothing there I need, now.”

The End