fluffy gillian

Right now, I am Gillian in this image. She is me. My job is the incarcerated alien freedom fighter with a Nokia strapped to his chest that is handcuffed to me.

I, however, am not wearing a custom pinstriped power suit with no top on underneath, so maybe that’s why I keep flipping all the tables in all the conference rooms.

Happiness is homemade

Gillovny Ficlet


Sometimes, the little things of everyday life can make a man perfectly happy. That’s what he was thinking, brushing his teeth in front of the mirror of his bathroom. He could see her reflection in the bedroom, she was reading a book in bed, glasses on, one of his shirt covering her body, the left sleeve falling off her shoulder to let her soft tanned skin appear. She looked peaceful, and so was he. It had been a perfect day. They went to the beach with her kids, ate sandwiches they’d prepared together earlier and he bought ice cream for the whole family before they came back at his home and crashed on the couch to watch a movie. Everybody was sleeping now, and he spit the foam of the toothpaste into the sink, switched the bathroom light off and joined her on the bed. Without a word, he kissed her bare-shoulder and watched her smile. She’d taken a shower before him, but her skin still tasted like sea and sun.

“You’re not tired?” he asked, without any innuendos. He didn’t need them anymore. If he wanted to make love to her, he could tell her frankly, or better, he could show her how much he wanted her. They had an honest and truthful relationship now.

“I am.” she whispered, and put her book on the nightstand.

She turned off her lamp, and laid down, her back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, his leg over hers and rested his groin against her butt, forming a perfect spoon. He put a soft kiss in her neck, took a deep breath of her smell and closed his eyes, ready to abandon himself to slumber. But after a few minutes of calm and peace, she broke the silence.

“Okay. Stop.” she said sharply, and switched the light on. “That’s not us.”

“Hey, what’s wrong? What do you mean, that’s not us?” He backed off a little bit on his side of the bed, surprised by her sudden move.

“We don’t do that. *You* don’t do that! We don’t do family vacations, we don’t eat ice cream on the beach, and you don’t spoon me at night fully dressed and soft! That’s not *us*!” He attempted to speak, he wanted to calm her down, but she didn’t let him talk and kept going. “We’re not like that. Look at us! We look like a milk advertising’s family! You rented a minivan, David!” she screamed the last sentence, and he feared she’d wake up the kids, so he paused a few seconds, waiting to see if he heard something, but the house was still silent, besides the supposedly soothing sound of the ocean.

“Calm down, honey,” he tried, and failed.

“And don’t honey-me, for fuck’s sake David! Who are you?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m a little lost here, because I was truly and fully happy a few seconds ago, and I thought you were too, but apparently, I was wrong,”

“You’re happy?” she interrupted, tears forming in her blue eyes that she blew away in a slow blink. “How can you be happy? You’re not even yourself!” He frowned his eyebrows in misunderstanding. “The real David would have pinned me against the wall and fucked me to death before falling asleep. He doesn’t brush his teeth in a pajamas and kiss me goodnight like a little wifey!”

“The real David? Gillian, I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but the real David is right here in front of you. The one who pinned you against the wall, was unsecure and territorial, he was unhappy and frustrated he couldn’t have what he wanted. But he does now.” he said, softly caressing her cheek. “I have you, and you make me happy,” he added, deciding it was time to drop the third person. “Everything that happened today, is exactly what I want and what I need. So I’m sorry if the real me bores you, but…”

“You’re not boring me!” she interrupted. “I thought… I thought you were doing all of this for me, and I don’t want you to lie for me. I love you, I just want yourself and to be happy.” This time she couldn’t refrain her tears, and he wiped them with his thumb.

“I am. Gillian. I am.” He put a chaste and lingering kiss on her lips, and looked into her wet eyes. “But if you want me to pin you against the wall, just say the words, woman!” he smiled, hovering her body with his, and she chuckled beneath him. “Can we go to sleep, now? I have a long fishing day tomorrow, and fishermen wake up early.” She smiled again, and nodded, switching the light off a second time before they regain their initial position. “And tomorrow night,” he whispered in her ear, “I take you out. And I’ll make sure there’s plenty of walls around us, okay?”

“Okay,” she answered, and he heard the smile under her whisper.

9

G and DD’s giggles ‘n grins while filming The Goldberg Variation, for Magda! ;)

The Goldberg Variation was the first time I was able to see Gillian and David work together, and I learned exactly how hard it is to truly lock down a set when you are on location,” fan Patricia Steffy informs me.

“At two different points, production was stopped because random people realized that they had happened upon the location shoot. The first time involved a teenager. She was across the street and apparently just realized what was going on–at which point she started yelling David Duchovny’s name and dancing. All this climaxed with a rather impressive twirl around a street lamp ala Singing in the Rain. David was amused enough to stand up and applaud while getting the rest of the cast and crew to join in. I thought they were going to have to redo Gillian’s make-up she was laughing so hard.”

—Erica Fraga, LAX-Files: Behind the Scenes with the Los Angeles Cast and Crew (2010)