I swung my bag over my shoulder, moving on the set, trying to stop glancing at my watch.

"Little Red!"

I smiled but kept moving as I heard Scott call me. "Morning, Scooter!" I called, keeping my course set on the trailer.

"David was worried," he said, jogging to my side.

"I just slept in, my alarm was set to 5 pm instead of 5 am," I replied, smiling as you stepping into the trailer, Scott following.

"Why do you get up that early?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

I shrugged, smiling. "I guess growing up I never really had alone time," I explained. "So...I started getting up earlier that I needed to. It gave me the alone time I needed."

"And it just stuck?" Scott asked, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nodded, hanging my red jacket up. "It always did. When I had roommates it was useful."

"No roommates now?" he questioned.

"Nope, just me, myself and I," I told him, getting all the supplies ready for the first scene of the day. "What about you?" I glanced at Scott, who was now sitting comfortably in one of the styling chairs.

"Same here," he replied, smiling. "Just me."

"Scooter! Styles!"

We both looked up as Avi stepped into the trailer, smiling as he saw us both. "There you two are."

"Here we are!" I cried, smiling. He chuckled, nodding out to the set. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Scott replied, standing.

I laughed softly, following him out of the trailer. I tried not to blush as he held out a hand, helping me step down from the trailer. The butterflies in my stomach grew as he smiled at me, squeezing my hand before letting go, following Avi.

-/::\-

I bit my lip, looking closer at the page, letting my pencil flow across the page.

Suddenly, the door to the trailer opened, and I slammed the sketchbook shut, standing as I saw Scott step into the trailer. And as I looked at him, I was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to stare.

Scott's face, neck, hands, and part of his chest were covered in mud. Dried, caked on mud. And he looked miserable.

But at the same time, he had clean sweats on, and nothing else. No shirt.
And I wanted to stare.

Looking away from his firm chiseled chest, I met his eyes. "Well, you are a mess," I stated.

He nodded, smiling. "I was told you could help?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" I responded, smiling.

Scott chuckled, moving towards me. "Both. Avi did tell me, but I was asking if you could."

"I can," I replied, turning the chair towards him. He let out a sigh of relief, falling into the chair. As I moved towards the drawers to get my washcloths and wipes, he asked, "What's this?"

I turned to see him looking at the sketchbook lying on the counter. "Oh, that's uh.."

"I remember those sketches from when we first met," he stated, looking up at me. "They were fantastic."

Blushing, I moved towards him. "Thank you," I muttered.

"Do you sketch in your free time?" he asked as I took his left hand, wiping away the crusty mud.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Yeah, I...do actually. That's why I...get up early every morning."

"Really?" I looked into his eyes, feeling the butterflies in my stomach grow as I saw curiosity, and kindness in his eyes.

Smiling, I nodded. "Yeah. It was always my time to...draw."

"Maybe...next time we have lunch...you could show me some of your drawings," he said softly.

I nodded, smiling. "I'd like that."
Scott's smile grew, and he laughed. "What?" I asked, wondering why on earth he was laughing.

"Smiling this much is making the mud crack," he told me, making me laugh.
"Well, that make my job easier," I commented, making his laughter grow.

-/::\-

Wiping the final make up off of Sarah's face, you smiled, stepping back.
"Alright, I think we're done."

"Thank you, Mitch," she said, standing.
"See you tomorrow," I called as she exited the trailer. "Night, Mitch."

"Night!"

I felt my heartbeat increase as Scott stepped in, a large smile on his face. "Hey," he said.

"Hi there," I replied, smiling widely at him. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, first I need all this extra make up off," he said.

I laughed, gesturing to the chair. "Well, the chair is empty."

Scott laughed, sitting in the chair he and Kirstin frequented more than anyone else. Grabbing another cleaning wipe, I started to wipe the powder on his face, running my eyes over his freckles. "You said this was the first thing you need. What's second?"

"Second is our lunch actually," he told me.

I stopped cleaning, looking at him. I could feel my nerves growing as I thought about another lunch with Scott, the possibilities. "Our lunch?"
He nodded, keeping eye contact with me. "Looks like our schedule is busy all week for lunches," he explained. "So I was thinking...what if we did dinner instead? Tonight."

I took a slow breath, smiling as I nodded. "I would really like that."

-/::\-

I smiled as the waitress left, looking back to Scott as he set down his glass. "This is a nice place," I commented. It wasn't fancy, that was for sure. But it was nicer than most of the diners I frequented.

"David told me about it, actually," he replied, leaning back in his seat. "I've been dying to try it, but too busy."
I laughed, smiling. "Well, we're trying it now."

"That we are," he agreed, smiling at me, before changing the subject. "So, I have to ask, how long have you been drawing?"

I bit my lip, shrugging. "Since I can remember, I guess. it helped in beauty school, for projects and such."

"But you never thought to go into art?" He asked, leaning onto the table.
I shook my head. "No, no. I've always loved hair, makeup. Drawing was...is just a hobby. Something I love that's not work."

"But you do love what you do?"

"I do, I really do," I told him, resting my elbows on the table. "I just know I'm not good enough at drawing to be an artist."

"From what I saw, you're amazing," He contradicted.

I smiled, trying not to blush. "I did bring my sketchbook," I told him, reaching to my bag.

"You did?"

I nodded, opening the sketchbook before moving it across the table. "Mitch, wow" He muttered, slowly flipping through the book. "These are...amazing."

I blushed as he looked up at me, a soft smile on his face. "Thank you," I said, smiling in return.

Looking back at the sketchbook, he said, "You're a really good artist, Mitch. Reminds me of..."

"Of what?" I asked, curious. Scott smiled, looking back at me. "Da Vinci."

"What?"

He nodded, his smile only growing. "Can I call you that, Da Vinci?"

Laughing, I slowly nodded. "Yeah, if you want."

"Just our special secret," He said, flipping to the last page.

"Our special nickname," I agreed, laughing.

Scott's smile grew, if it was possible, and he slid the book back to me, tapping the page. "This is my favorite one by far."

"Really?" I asked, looking at the sketch I had made of the impala.

"Oh yeah," he replied. "I like it almost as much as your new Nickname, Da Vinci."

Laughing, I shook my head, looking back into Scott's eyes. "No more nicknames, okay, Scooter?"

Chuckled, he shrugged. "Can't promise anything," he replied, making me laugh.