the catherine cawood gifset i just reblogged is an example of sally w’s self-plagiarisation somewhat distantly, but it is definitely related to these moments i adore in the ltih xmas special, when some man makes the mistake of using the term ‘ladies.’ and the first one of course is to caroline and gillian, in the restaurant, and gillian gets all defensive about it (‘ladies, who’s he trying to kid’) while caroline is much more comfortable letting herself be put in that category. but the second one is at the theatre, when gillian and olga come in late and the usher says ‘sorry, ladies,’ and they both look behind themselves in sync to see where these supposed ladies are.
and every time i watch it i just think, oh, caroline. caroline, caroline. caz. cazza. you are in so much trouble.
Gillovny fic about David coming back to NY after his tour in Europe. (Chapter 2 will be posted this week, I promise.)
pushes the door of his apartment on this late afternoon, he’s surprised to be
welcomed by the yapping of his dog. Brick was supposed to stay with Téa the
time he was in Europe, but seeing the mess in his living room, he quickly understands
what happened. Small sneakers are mixed with high heels at the feet of the
couch, a black dress hangs on the armchair and a stack of dirty dishes are threatening
to fall into the sink. In any other occasions, he would be pissed off. If it
was West or Miller, he would have punished them and make them clean the whole
house for leaving such a mess behind them. Actually, he’s just happy to know
she’d decided to stay at his apartment during his tour. It feels good to be
back home, and even better to know she’d made herself home. In some way, he
feels reassured when he sees her girly cosmetics in his bathroom and her toothbrush
next to his.
about calling her to let her know he’s back. He’d told her he’d land today, but
he didn’t tell at what time. Maybe he should take this occasion to surprise
her. He decides to switch off his phone for a couple hours, just the time to
take a shower and a little nap. She hadn’t made the bed this morning, and the
sheets smell like her. That’s when he wraps himself into her scent of Jasmin that
he realizes he sees her again in a few hours. They’re used to spend time away
from each other. It’s not the first time, and it’s not the last, but oddly, he
feels that it was harder than ever. Two weeks ago, he secretly cried on the
plane to Glasgow. It never happened before, and it was just the first time of
many others during his tour. After every concert, when the adrenaline of going
on stage slowly vanished from his blood, he collapsed onto the bed of his
lonely hotel room and shed tears on his pillow that smelt nothing. Every time he
hung up with her, he felt his throat tightening. He still doesn’t understand
why it happened while they’ve just been apart for two weeks, and not months
like they’re used to, but when he rests his head on his pillow and smells her
shampoo he wishes he won’t have to leave her again in a few weeks. First, because
he loves her and simply wants to be with her, but also because he doesn’t want
to feel this again. This sadness. This emptiness. It took him half a century,
but now he understands what it feels like being just a half of a human being.
His happiness depends on his other half, and he can’t wait to hold her in his
arms again. To feel her skin against his. To tell her how much he missed her
and whisper words of love in her ear while he makes her come beneath him.
jetlag, he knows he could sleep for hours, but that’s not the plan. He sets his
alarm clock to wake up in an hour before drifting off.
to enter the theater pretty much unnoticed. He just had to take a few pictures
with fans and sign two or three autographs, but now that he’s sitting on the
last row, no one comes to bother him. The lights shut down, and she appears a
few minutes later, stunning in her beige suit. After all those years, he’s
probably the only one able to understand her emotions through the tone of her
voice. No one in the theater would notice, but as she starts to say her lines,
he knows there’s something wrong. He can perceive the bad vibrations emanating
from her. Is it sadness? Angriness maybe? He isn’t sure. Everyone around him seems
to enjoy the play while he keeps staring at her with concern. What could be
wrong, he wonders. If something happened with her boys, she’d have told him.
Told him… called him… his phone! Fuck! He forgot to switch it on when he woke
up! He knows how inappropriate it is, and he would hate that if the girl next
to him did the same, but he doesn’t care. He shifts loudly on his chair to
search in the backside pocket of his jeans and unlocks his phone, probably
dazzling his neighbors. Hopefully, it was in mute mode, and the dozens of text
messages and missing calls appear one by one on the screen. It starts nicely. “When
are you landing, sweetie?” “I’m leaving, call me when you’re here.” “Baby, if
you’re married to a Frenchy now, can I keep your dog at least?” But with his
lack of answer, she’d quickly interlocked the passive-aggressive mode. “Dave,
can you answer me? I need to know if I should shave my legs or if I can let my
hairs grow.” “Just in case you lost my number in Europe. It’s Gillian.
Remember?” “I’m going on stage in half an hour and I really start to worry.
Please call me.” “I hope your plane crashed somewhere and that’s why you don’t
answer my call. Otherwise, you’re just an asshole.” And last but not least: “Fuck
stupid. But his first reflex is to call her right away. That’s only on the
first ring that he realizes she stands just in front of him, and he can’t talk
to her. Godammit! He wants to find a way to let her know he’s here. He can’t believe
he’d let her go on stage without telling her he was back and safe. He’s such an
ass, he thinks. Yes. It’s stupid. But he coughs. Loudly. He clears his throat.
In the vain hope that she hears and recognizes his voice. It doesn’t work, and
he just manages to piss off his neighbors even more.
intermission, he thinks about going backstage, but he knows she has to play
again, and probably won’t be able to do it well if she sees him. Whether she’d
be mad at him or relieved to see him, it’ll change her emotions and she’ll lose
her concentration. So he just stays in his seat, and waits for the play to
start again. Maybe she will notice his missing call. More likely, she won’t. He
knows she doesn’t like to look at her phone between her scenes.
lights turn on and the audience stands up to ovation the cast, he quietly
sneaks out of the theater and heads backstage. Thankfully, the security guy
recognizes him, and he runs to her dressing room. She’d changed the decoration
since the last time he went to see her. There’s more photos of him and them on
her walls and desk. It makes his heart ache even more to know he wasn’t the
only one moved by this separation. He notices there’s more and more Chewbacca goodies
everywhere, and she’d framed the little note he’d let on the fridge when he
left. “I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m just going out for some croissant in
Paris. I won’t be long. I love you, D.”
the audience scream and clap louder. She’s probably alone on stage now,
getting her well-deserved standing ovation. His heart starts to pound in his
chest, knowing she should be there in a minute or so.
I just want bloopers to be release and I just want one of those bloopers being about the elevator scene, and Archie comes back running into frame, grabs Gillian face and kiss her real hard. Big open mouthed kisses with tongues, hands grabbing hair and hips, Gillian being pushed against the lift’s doors, and the doors opens, and they both fall down onto the lift floor, Archie on Gillian, and they both start laughing their ass off.
Okay, so Gillian Anderson was tagged in about 30+ professional tweets, wishing her Happy Birthday. Among them was various charities, TV channels, online press, TV show accounts, co-stars!, Hollywood people….She replied to 1 charity.
(Also, she replied to 1 account that was created by her fans!❤️ #AllHeartGillian)
David Schmoppie Duchovny didn’t even tag her - cause you obviously don’t need to do that, when you are tweeting the person, who is laying next to you in the bed - and her reply was the sweetest thing ever.
What’s my point? Nothing,really. Just that they are happy, in love, and they spent their birthdays together.