The Hollywood Files

Happy Birthday to me...Friday the 24

th

was my four year anniversary of joining Literotica.com, so as a special treat, four new stories in one go!

The Hollywood Files are a series of one-shot stories, completely fictional and purely for entertainment. No actual stars were slept with during the writing of this story.

I am one of the best in the business. The role I play is integral to success, and yet few people will know my name. Of course I have a place when credits are written, but nobody remembers me the way they remember John Williams, Michael Bay, Will Smith or Steven Spielberg. Within the industry, however, I am as famous as you can get. My chosen trade is that of a stunt man.

I started doing rudimentary stunts like anyone would, filling extra positions in battle scenes or being fodder to a movie star, but quickly found a knack for planning the stunts myself. Pretty soon I was helping design most of the work with the coordinator. One night after shooting he pulled me aside.

"I think you have some real talent," he said to me. "I heard of a job coming up that I think will suit you perfectly. Just promise me that you'll always show this sort of devotion to your stuntmen." Having been there myself and knowing what hard work they do, I promised.

Before long I was the most sought after stunt coordinator, fight choreographer, and stuntman in Hollywood. I cropped up everywhere, helping the bigger names like Nick Gillard on the Star Wars prequels, or Jackie Chan on several of his western movies, and once on a Chinese film he did. I trained Daniel Craig in his Bond role and helped plan the choreography in the last two of the four Bourne films. I was happy, but I was also alone, until one day I stood up for one of my people, an actress who insisted on being part of the stuntman world, and became part of my world along the way.

--

She was fast, strong, dynamic. Keira Knightley was the most energetic fighter I had ever seen. She took fewer breaks than many of the stunt performers, and these were men and women capable of doing the extraordinary on a daily basis. She picked up the choreography fast, and she was eager to learn and do as much as she could. Her experience with a sword or throwing a punch was enhanced by what I sensed was natural talent, something she had in spades and had never needed before while doing Jane Austen dramas. She was talented, witty, hard-working, and not to mention drop-dead gorgeous.

Many people I knew didn't like her skinny body, or obsessed over it too much. To me, fighting in her tank top and gym shorts, she was close to perfection. I admired that her body showed signs of small yet definite muscle, and she worked on keeping herself fit rather than just thin. Her breasts were small, but they suited her. Her legs were long and had a low-key power to them. Her abs - I don't think I need to say much except "her abs", if you have any idea what she looks like.

And her smile...her smile could light up a room, her dark brown eyes twinkling and her pink lips parting over perfect teeth. She was cute, sexy, adorable, fiery, and stunning all at once. Last but definitely not least she was a talented actress in a variety of roles, and it was a joy in every way working with her.

"That's it," I said as she sparred one of the other swordsmen in the training room. "Don't stick your head up, keep your chin tucked in on the low thrusts...watch your footwork..." I didn't need to say much more than that, but I wanted to make sure she was perfect, and she was definitely meeting those expectations. She grinned as her sword twirled, connecting with the stunt performers at all the right times.

At times I did fleetingly wonder if Keira could keep up, since she was only five foot seven inches tall and admittedly thin compared to the larger stunt men and women, who's swings had more mass and would take a greater toll on her arms with each block. To my great relief I noticed she was developing a lot of toned muscle on her for only being fifty four kilograms, and she was keeping pace with the taller, seasoned professionals. She had taken the dietary requirements of this training quite seriously as well.

Her hair was held back in a ponytail, or as much of a ponytail as she could get with her super short hair. Sweat poured down her face and her brows knitted over dark brown eyes in concentration as the moves became more complex and risky, but she met the challenge with that natural talent I had come to greatly admire, as if her high cheekbones, slender body and gorgeous face hadn't already caught my attention.

"Ok guys, let's break for lunch, we still have a lot of work to get done today." The fighters bumped fists and grabbed water bottles and towels, putting the weapons away as they cleaned up. Keira came over to me, sweat on her brow and a smile on her face.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Looking really good, you guys will have these scenes down in no time."

"Will we be doing costume practice as well?"

"I don't think so, the costume department is frantically working just to get things ready for shooting on location, never mind having enough to spare for now."

"Too bad, I'd like to figure out how I'll be able to move in them."

"I've seen you move - I don't think anything wrapped around your body will be a problem." Keira arched an eyebrow at me.

"I'm glad I rate so highly on your scale...oh and that you think my fighting is good too," she said with a cheeky grin.

"Absolutely," I said, staying completely deadpan. "I mean, your body is rubbish but your fighting is definitely improving." She burst out laughing and slapped my shoulder. I found it infectious, and wanted to make her laugh more often, but I put on my serious face.

"You've got this, no question. When this movie comes out people are going to believe in the blood and sweat on screen -

your

blood and sweat." She quietened down and smiled warmly at the genuine compliment.

"Jason!" a voice called out from behind me. The production manager, Marcus Throne, beckoned me over. I gave Keira a smile and wandered over to him.

"Is she ready?" he asked bluntly.

"I believe she can do the work."

"...I don't see it."

"I do. I have full confidence in our team, I

know

they can pull it off."

"I've been going over the filming schedule; your stunts are too dangerous - I don't want her on set for them."

"She can do it, Marcus. I've seen her train."

"Well it isn't your project on the line if she breaks something. So for your sake there'd better be no risk involved, or I'm pulling her out." Marcus marched off to scorn his caterer leaving me fuming in my own way.

Marcus was the producer, but sticking his nose so violently into the other departments' work was seriously slowing down production. I had faith in my team that the stunts would be both safe and flawlessly executed, but of course there was always risk involved. I glanced over at Keira, wiping her shoulder blades with a towel and laughing at something one of the stunt performers said.

She could do it. And if I told her she could do it, I knew she

would

do it.

The next day I was asked to talk to the costume department about the fight scenes, making sure my people could move in their people's outfits. I had all the stunt men and women come in to be fitted again, double checking their movements and making changes with the head tailors as we went. After Jenkins, the last of my performers, was finished I went to shut the door behind her, and in walked Keira.

"Aren't you going to check mine too?" she asked innocently, a joking smile on her face. I spared a glance at two of the tailors, who shrugged.

"She's basically one of yours, better make sure we don't damage anything," he said. The other one agreed, nodding her head.

"All of her outfits will need to be constantly rechecked for continuity, and if we rip something that'll just slow the whole damn process down." So I helped them get Keira into her clothes and went around her body, lifting an arm here and bending her backwards there, testing all of her suit's limitations to the stunts I knew she was performing. At one point in the second outfit we tested I lifted her leg by placing my hand underneath her knee, my fingers sliding up the back of her thigh a bit as I raised her leg.

"Be gentle," she said giggling. I shot her a glare.

"Now I

know

this isn't your first time," I said back.

"Maybe not...but I'm ticklish too."

"Is that what they call it now? I was thinking something completely different then...my bad." She winked at me, but I saw the hints of a blush in her cheeks that matched my feelings completely, even if it was just a joke. I spent the rest of the process acting as professional as possible, even when handling her body a little more than one would consider normal, but she remained silent, bearing only a faint smile on her face and dishing out no further one-liners until the tailors were satisfied. It took a while - she had four outfits in total to fight in, and I had to check everything

very

thoroughly.

After she left, returned once again to the loose shorts and t-shirt she wore coming in, I asked the tailors if they were satisfied.

"Don't look at us," one of them said, half indignantly. "We didn't want your people here slowing us down. We already knew we had done a good job with the rest of you but the director apparently decided Ms. Knightley the stunt-actor hybrid had to be checked in her outfits to avoid problems down the road." I turned to leave feeling more confused than before I asked the question, at least until I remembered the cheeky smile Keira had given me the whole time.

So, the director thought we needed to be re-checked...

--

A week later shooting commenced. One of the very first shots was a stunt scene that went off without a hitch, even with falling debris and flying stuntmen. Throne watched intently from the sidelines as I directed the men and women I trusted into position. Keira was also watching from offstage, her eyes meeting mine once or twice and smiling at me as a coordinated and well-choreographed stunt worked time after time. She knew just as much as any how hard we had all worked at it. Throne was too tough on us.

Days went by and I grew to miss Keira's presence, her shooting schedule conflicting with mine as she filmed scenes elsewhere while I mixed it up with collapses, sword fights and all manner of controlled chaos. When we were together such as at lunch or late in the day she would always come over and sit with me, talking to me, discussing this stunt or that line, or sometimes just anything that had popped into her head during a minute's break on set. I was attracted to her, and because I knew she was naturally alluring I just assumed I was reading too much into her friendliness.

Then, on a day like any other, something almost went wrong.

Keira was strung up in a wire rig, suspended over a catwalk during a fight scene. It was only 8 feet up, but the catwalk wobbled from side to side and there were a lot of mechanical parts beneath them as part of the stunt. As she ran at her opponent the gantry she was standing on gave way, explosive bolts separating it cleanly into two pieces as she jumped, gliding over the gap and bringing her sword down on her opponent's blade, assisted by wires to make it look as skilful and well-timed as the audience would believe. The part she had leapt from tilted back slightly and debris rained down where she had been standing from above.

As Keira's feet hit the ground, the part of the gantry she now stood on bent downwards due to lack of support, as planned, meant to give her the chance to throw her off-balance opponent into the gap, but the part she had jumped off from was meant to fall further away leaving a space for the stuntman to roll through, and for some reason it didn't. Keira hesitated, not wanting to throw the stuntman if he couldn't fit through the hole and land on the mats below, or if it wasn't going to be safe for him to land near a malfunctioning set piece. The wire rig she was in then tightened up instead of giving her more slack, and as the gears controlling the gantry motion jammed and whined her wires jerked backwards as well, pulling her towards the too-small gap between the gantry pieces.

Keira couldn't safely fall between the solid walkways onto the mats designed for the stunt person because of her wires, and as she landed painfully on the debris she slid down towards the small gap where a body couldn't fit, but her arm could easily end up being partially sandwiched between the wobbling metal pieces. I leapt onto the set, as the director stood up suddenly and called "CUT!"

"Wire hold firm!" I yelled, hitting a button as I ran past the control panel that controlled the wobble in the gantry, stopping it's side-to-side motion. Two of my men joined me and together we threw ourselves at the gantry, pulling it over against the locked gears to prevent the two sides coming back together and crushing anything between them. Keira wire stayed tight so she didn't slip too far and she got to her feet in no time, stepping away from the gap as her stunt partner moved back on the other side.

"All clear!" called the controller for the mechanical parts. "All clear!" everyone raced about, examining the parts, clearing up the debris and helping Keira down from the rig, handing her an ice pack for the shoulder she had landed on. Throne came over to me angrily.

"What was that?!?" he shouted loudly.

"A mishap. Mechanical failure, I'll note, and they happen sometimes. The engineers can fix it - and it could have been worse."

"She's up there in danger, and all you think is that it could have been worse! It's bad enough! She's out - bring in her double, those people are trained for this sort of thing!"

"Keira IS trained for it - she's as much one of my people as she is one of yours!"

"Well we'll see about that!" Throne cried, marching off to talk to the director. I glanced up at Keira, who had heard the whole exchange, a worried and dejected look on her face, and decided I had to have a word with the director myself.

But not today. Today I had to let it pass, choosing when best to fight my battles, and Keira came off stage, a single tear in her eye that no one else noticed.

--

I walked into the training room after having a long, lengthy discussion with my stunt people about the day's events. The mechanism that was supposed to make the rig fall backwards had lost power, and while the problem had been fixed the damage was done.

In the afternoon when shooting was mostly finished I had argued - and the director agreed with me - that Keira's actions on the rig were correct in not throwing her stunt partner when the gantry gap wasn't wide enough to safely allow for him, but it meant she had taken a tumble herself, and even if the risk of injury was small the director was concerned about delays. I pointed out that she was as highly trained as any of us, and it was better having her up there.

Marcus had called for her to be replaced for any non-essential stunt, in other words, anything not needing a close-up shot of her would involve her stunt double. He stressed this was the easiest way of getting it done safely, at the loss of a few closer camera angles. I was asked to approach Keira about the matter, offering the director's words, in order to gauge her response, which infuriated Marcus. Even so I wasn't pleased about having to mention it to her in the morning.

"I was waiting for you," came a voice from the training room. Keira stood by the weapons table, dressed in gym shorts and a tank top, holding her favourite training sword, one of the rubber-edged ones. Her short hair was tied back in a small ponytail as usual and as I entered the room her feet shifted slightly, taking a cautious ready stance. I approached the table, looking without looking, my eyes focused on Keira while I hunted for the nearest weapon in my peripheral vision.

"After today I'm not surprised," I replied, slowly closing the distance. I spied the handle of a short sword in a scabbard facing my direction, the furthest weapon from Keira's side of the table.

"Is Marcus still thinking of keeping me from doing my own stunts?"

"I'm working on it - he director knows your participation relies heavily on using the skills you've learned as often as you can." I dropped my jacket on the table and stared across at her. "Although after today's outburst from Marcus things are a lot more complicated than you think."

"Someone has to play the drama card."

"I guess so."

"I can do it, Jason."

"I'm sure you can. I just don't know if I'll be able to convince the director that you can."

"So how am I supposed to prove I can handle myself if I'm rushed off-stage during the big stunts?"

"That's the tricky part." I snatched the short sword, drawing it from its scabbard and jumping back as Keira swung her blade at me. We stood apart, our swords pointing towards each other with the blades touching lightly, her eyes on me.

"I told you I could handle myself."

"I see that...and I think you just need to let off some steam."

"That's what I'm doing...this de-stresses me better than anything I know."

"You really are one of us." Keira hesitated.

"One of

yours,

" she said firmly.

"There are ways of dealing with stress that don't involve cutting up your instructor."

"If I could beat you it would definitely prove how capable I am."

"Challenge accepted." This definitely wasn't in the script.

She lunged at me so fast I was barely able to read her moves as I leapt clumsily out of the way, never mind raising my sword in defence, but when she landed she was off-balance. I swung lightly at her, knowing I'd only graze her shoulder if she was as good as I really thought, but she recovered enough to fully deflect the half-strength blow and then return fire, swinging quickly left to right and back again. I blocked these well enough and twisted out of her way. Keira glared at me angrily.

"You did that on purpose," she growled. "I got too eager, and you should have landed that, at least a little bit. You're going easy on me." She raised her sword again. "How can I fight Marcus on this when even

you

don't think I have what it takes?!?"

Keira leaped forward and attacked, her sword moving through the air like a deadly ballet. We parried, pivoted and reset over and over, martial artists locked in a never-ending combat of skill, luck and ferocity. Our swords clashed, my arms tired and yet Keira came on, jabbing at my shoulder or reversing and sending a backhanded cut at my legs. She fought harder than she ever did when I watched her practice, and I watched her constantly.

I backed away as Keira swung yet again, a horizontal cut that I mirrored, followed by a diagonal back the other way that made me bring my blade up high to block. When her sword scraped down off of mine she flicked it, bringing the tip of her blade up and over mine to tap it out of the way, leaving me open for another lunge forward. This time I sidestepped and grabbed her arm, pulling her forwards and off balance. Keira wildly brought the tip of her blade back towards us and I barely managed to get mine up and in front of my face to stop it, directing it instead towards her as the force of her swing toppled us backwards onto the mats.

The tip of my sword jabbed through her tank top shoulder strap, poking a hole in the material as we landed on our backs. I jerked Keira's sword hand and her weapon flew across the floor, but before I could do more she rolled away immediately, the sword ripping through her strap as I held it firmly in the ground. Keira kicked out at it as she rolled, sending my sword clattering aside as she knelt up, the ripped fabric of her tank top dangling down her chest, revealing the side of her sports bra.