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12 August 2007 @ 05:43 pm
Theatrical Muse: Week 190: Question 190  
Name: Dr. Sid Hammerback

Fandom: CSI: New York

Word Count: 836


You've temporarily turned into a child, what do you do? (Child muses are temporarily turned into adults!)


He looked at her, danced with her, loved her, cherished her. And when he appeared as her father, and then her lover, her look was one of incredulous delight. It was a small time production of The Sound of Music, something done, organised, rehearsed, in between university classes, weekends, parties, social events. Oh sure, most of the main characters had an understudy, but Von Trapp was sick, and his own understudy couldn’t be found. Therefore, since he was meant to be playing Rolf, and was the understudy of Von Trapp, he was playing both Von Trapp, and Rolf. It wasn’t that hard, but, it still was.

Although Ralf and Liesel had only just begun a unique journey of courtship, or, ended it, really, their own dating had been going on for years, and, as they danced, and wowed the audiences with their captivating looks, their cherishing, loving, it was clear they were in love, even if circumstances and history itself prevented their characters from ever getting together. And, as Liesel’s father, his sternness, his order, his melting of nature, his captivation with Maria, he was believable, even if he was, playing, two parts, two alternating parts, that really, should have been played by different people.


The two budding actors ran out of the changing rooms, hand in hand, kissing, their stage makeup still on, their hair still done, brushed to correctness. His muffled “Mhmph.” as they crashed into the side of his car was greeted with her warm laughing, her giggles. Leading her around to the front passenger seat, he opened the door for her, got her seated, and then ran around to the driver’s seat and got in. Driving her back to their home, their apartment, he cooked her dinner and they lay together on a mattress, under a rug, in front of the television, watching flickering colour pictures wave in and out of the screen. Empty bowls sat piled beside them, drops of rice and sauce left within their depths, and they eagerly examined each other’s faces with their lips, tongues, fingers, skin. There was something so sex filled about that moment as he positioned himself above her, humming a song softly within his throat, his contained voice rumbling pleasantly.

As he pressed against her, she smiled, greeting him, the warmth of her skin radiating off her body in waves. Twisting, turning, waves. The next night, Von Trapp was still ill, his understudy was still missing, and Maria, who had been sleeping with Von Trapp outside the play, was now ill as well. As he played father, and then lover of Liesel, she played Liesel, and, Maria. There was a rousing case of missing understudies around, because, he was originally playing Ralf, but was understudy to Von Trapp, and Marianne was understudy to Maria, but was meant to be playing Liesel. It was true, most of the major roles, did have understudies, but, many of the understudies were already other parts as well, some major, some not. The rest, well, two of them at least, were just, missing. It was complicated, but, it made the after performance sex, even better, as they enacted out the roles of two sets of lovers, within their sheets. That was something terribly artistic about it.

They bowed at the performance of the third and last night, acting the parts they had on the second. Sid as Von Trapp, as Ralf, and Marianne as Maria, as Liesel, they bowed, and bowed, and bowed, to raucous cheers, applause, and flowers.

The thing about such childhood like fancies, the stories that the play told, the way, they danced, sung, loved, held, each other tight, was that, they were true, they had, indeed, been lived. There was nothing so truer in that bowing, applause filled moment, than their endearing, surviving love. Couples pressured as they had been, may have cracked, refused, and halted under the foolish dual roles they were putting to play, putting into action. Being two people on stage at once? It was silly, and foolhardy to say the least. But, it had also been, so, much, fun.


The Sunday night, brought with it, no performances, no makeup, no tiring dual roles to fulfil. Tying up her dress, he combed her hair, and kissed her on the cheek. They arrived at the dancehall, themselves again, lovers, poised and ready for the rest of their life to continue, and, begin, not to end, never to end. Kissing her as they danced, the man smiled at his lover, his young wife, the music filling their ears, their hearts, their heads. Rooted in the present, they twirled and whirled with the whimsical melodies, and jerked and pulled at each other as a more upbeat tune came onto the speakers. And, as he lead her to their real bed that night, and tucked her under the covers, and lay beside her, he was happy. For all the world, he was happy, she was happy, and, they were happy. It was, perfect. It was perfect.
 
 
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