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01 July 2009 @ 12:29 am
MOAR?!  
Title: Tabloids
Author: elaborationlove
Fandom: RPF
Characters/Pairings: Keanu Reeves/Sandra Bullock
Rating: G
Summary: Keanu and Sandra have moved in together--and the public wants details!
Author's Notes: None.
Warning: None.



When they move in together, they expect the guff. And they get it.

Keanu comes in, dripping wet, the drops hanging from his long eyelashes, threatening to drop onto the new wood floor and cause a stain. He shrugs off his light blue rain coat and slaps the tabloid onto the nearest cardboard box that reads “Kitchen”. It’s Sandy’s writing on the box and he winces—hopefully he didn’t break a coffee maker or anything.

She, too, is wet when she emerges. He figures she came from the shower—she’s in a white bathrobe and rings out her hair as she walks towards him in bare feet. A small gasp comes from her mouth when she feels the cold wood beneath her.

“More trash?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow and motioning to the offending “news” with her elbow.

“Yeah. They’re speculating you’re pregnant.”

“What?!” She gestures to her figure. “This is for a movie!”

“You’re not fat,” he laughs. “Not even close. The point is, they still think something’s going on between us.”

Sandra makes an O with her mouth. She picks up the tabloid and her eyes dart around the page. It’s splashed with gossip, mostly white font on a red background over pixilated pictures. You’d think, based on how much the paparazzi get paid, they could take a better picture. This one, she thinks, is of J.Lo. She can’t be sure, though.

Their story—hers and Keanu’s—is located, according to the caption of the eye-catching photo of him carrying a cardboard box into their new apartment, on page six. She flips to it and sighs. “Oh, goodie.”

Keanu takes a bite of the donut he left on the counter earlier in the day. It’s stale and he makes a face. “What’s it say?” he says, mouth still full. He catches bits of falling food with his right hand cupped near his chest. Still, some of the powder clings to his purple shirt and he brushes it off.

“Hmm. Well, apparently, you and I have been seeing each other for the last three months. My baby is due in seven.” She rakes her eyes over him after summarizing this bit and then continues, adding her own editorial, “I love you to bits, Keanu, but…I wouldn’t have sex with any guy in the first month—let alone you.”

He feigns hurt, pressing his hand over his heart. “Sandy! How could you? I thought what we had was special!”

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the paparazzi.”

He comes behind her, doing a brushing clap with his hands to rid himself of the powder. “What else does it say?”

“It’s possible the baby is Gerard Butler’s—what? I haven’t even met him!—and they’re moving in together so they can prepare for the baby.”

She throws the magazine onto the dining table, sighing.

“I think we’re going to have to do some damage control.”

He shrugs. “If you really think it’s necessary. I mean, when you’re not showing any…roundness…they’ll figure out that you’re not really pregnant.”

“Unless they think I got an abortion.”

“True.” Keanu puts the heels of his hands against the dining room table, closing her in. There’s barely enough room for her to turn around and face him. “Or…we could…make it a reality. I mean, not the baby thing, but….At least, for them. You know. We are actors.”

Sandra pushes her way out of the small cage he made. “No, thank you. I’ll just schedule a press conference, that’s all.”

“For this? I don’t think it really calls for one. Just mention it during the next interview or whatever.”

Pushing a hand through her hair, she sighs. “Alright. I thought we were going to make a big deal of this, though. Like—that was the point. To encourage other people to do the same thing. Remember? Good for the wallet, good for the environment?”

“Yeah, well. I don’t know if that’s going to work now. The public’s already got their own ideas.”

“Press conference, then?”

“Alright.”

- - -

“Sandra, how far along is the pregnancy?”

“Keanu, how is the new movie coming? Is there an official title yet?”

“Keanu, how much did the apartment cost?”

“Keanu, boxers or briefs?”

“Sandra, when did you find out? How did you feel?”

“Um…” Keanu leans into the microphone and speaks softly. “If we could…have everyone quiet for a minute? We’ll explain what’s really going on.” He glances at Sandra—the second half of what is now dubbed “Keandra”—and she nods.

“Okay. So there’ve been rumors about me and this little guy,” she says, ruffling his hair. “I’ll tell you what you want to hear: I love him to pieces. Now, here’s what you don’t want to hear: like my best friend. There’s nothing more to it. We didn’t buy an apartment because I’m supposedly having a baby—which I’m not.”

“Sandra, why did you buy the apartment?” It comes in a thousand voices, it seems, and she wonders how stupid can they be? Obviously, she was getting to that point.

“We bought the apartment as a publicity stunt.”

She smirks as gasps come from the crowd of reporters.

“For the environment and the economy. The point was to show, by example, how Americans—and people all over, really—can not only save money by sharing an apartment with a friend, but how it helps the environment, too. Keanu?” she prompts.

They spend the next hour answering questions, giving tips on saving money and helping the environment, and a little bit of what it’s like to live with each other.
 
 
 
Love is the coolest thing that’s ever happenedjoannacullen on July 1st, 2009 04:34 am (UTC)
Hm. Interesting. :)
elaborationloveelaborationlove on July 1st, 2009 05:13 am (UTC)
:)