Based on Photo #1 Author: maradao Title: Snapshot (Drabble) Rating: PG POV: Ryan. Disclaimer: The people belong to themselves; Whose Line belongs to other people; the photo itself is the property of laurahall.com. The story independent of all these is mine, and is fiction. No profits made, no libel intended -- please don't read into anything too seriously. *** Sometimes she thinks we don’t notice. After rehearsal, the four of us and Drew at his desk -- we go yapping on and on to keep our teeth from chattering, because the a.c.’s on full blast. (Raleigh Studios doubles as a morgue during its off hours -- didn’t you know?) The winter clothes don’t help much. Wardrobe’s going to come by any minute and make us change into our fiesta wear and all the time we’ll still be yapping, all of us, right into the taping. Anytime she could step in and say something; sometimes does, but mostly she just sits and reads. If the other musicians are there she’ll go off in a huddle and talk with them, but when it’s only her and us, she just seems to want to watch. They’re going to silence out the better part of what we say back here before it goes to air. Good thing, too, or we wouldn’t say most of it. I take a sip of water and wish it was coffee. Too bad they can’t tone down the parrot shirts as well. We’re going to be four squawky parrots with goosebumps because the damned a.c.’s still on. I think that’s what Wayne and Greg are going on about; God knows what Colin’s thinking. God knows what he’s ever thinking when he looks like that. In a minute I’ll talk to him and he’ll snap back to our wavelength. Out of the corner of my left eye, I see her lifting her camera like she doesn’t want anyone to see. I sneak a look over at Greg and Wayne, like I’m about to join in with something, just to give her enough time to get everything adjusted. You have to time these things in your head, or else they look staged. One... (they’re still laughing -- good) two... (looks like Colin’s about to start chewing his nails -- wait for it) three... And just a second before she snaps that perfect candid shot, I turn around and look straight into the lens. (If she’d waited till four, I would have said cheese.) Gotcha, Laura. ***