"Are we bringing down the house, darling?" Serge asked, passing Tiffany a handful of clips while fussing with her hairstyle for the last scene.

"Nobody's thrown anything yet." She snorted "S'wonder the way Milo swaggers about, spouting his lines."

"Do we think they like it then?"

"Like I said, no one's tossed anything..."

*****

"I heard it let go when I crossed my legs." Grace stood with arms out while Ellen deftly sewed the split seam in the side of the dress.

"I should have double stitched both sides, I'm sorry Grace."

"Hey, no problem. If things don't go well, maybe I can use it to stir up some reaction."

"Well, your next scene in this is short, so we can get you out of it and I can fix it properly."

"You two have done a really great job you know. Aside from acting with Milo and Tiffany, this is the hardest job in this thing."

Denise smiled, running her hands down the back of the dress, "we should probably move this middle button too Ellen, Grace must have been sneaking too many of Hartley's snacks." She gave Grace a friendly poke in the back and walked around to stand behind Ellen.

"There, that should hold well enough." Ellen stood and stepped back, bumping into Denise, who's arms came up and circled her waist.

"Oh, Denny... sorry..."

"My treat."

Grace stared at the two women, a titillating shiver running beneath her skin as the situation slowly dawned on her.

*****

Milo frowned in the reflection of the hand mirror Henry held behind his head.

"Can't you cover that bald portion a little better?"

Henry snapped the mirror down sharply and walked around to the cosmetic case, taking out a small aerosol can.

"What's that?" Milo's frown changed to a look of concern.

"This is called Ace Manouflage." He replied, haughtily. "It's a camouflage spray for balding men." He shook the can vigorously, popping off the cap and holding it over Milo's head.

"Whoa, wait a minute! What does it do?" He ducked forward out of the way.

"Let's just say it's our little ace in the hole." Cheerfully, he sprayed the cool mist onto Milo's head, finishing with flourish that left a small, runny puddle. "There we go, Mr. Braithwaite, only your hairdresser will know. You'd better hurry, your cue is in two minutes."

*****

"Hey Gregorio, I noticed you limping in that last scene. How come?" Jeffrey asked, solicitously.

Allen scowled, massaging his groin. "I don't know, I guess I pulled something."

"Tsk, tsk, Allen. Naughty boy." Amanda smirked, catching his comment as she passed behind them.

"Bloody women." Allen hissed, glowering at her back.

*****

"Okay Marshall, remember, surprise and anger when you find Henry Sales waiting in your home - just don't overdo the reaction. Ready? Okay, now..." Nigel watched anxiously as Milo made his entrance through the mock the door and walked into the living room, halting abruptly when he spied Henry Sales by the window. As he followed the dialogue on his master script, he glanced up to see black streaks running down Milo's neck and soaking into the collar of his white shirt.

"Oh God..."

"Oh darn, I'm too late." Nigel turned to find Henry Matute holding a towel and fighting a smile that belied his facetious disappointment.

"He insisted on hiding his bald spot, then just rushed out before I could finish..."

"Uhuh." Nigel shrugged his head and leaned against the curtain ropes. "You'd better be doing something somewhere else when he finds out, Henry."

"Gotcha, Mr. Stainway." He winked and danced away, chuckling.

Nigel watched as the scene progressed, cuing a nervous Shelia, across the stage, with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, you're home, Marshall." She walked sedately to her mark, pausing and throwing a dramatic hand to her throat. "Oh, and we have company!"

"Henry's just leaving, aren't you Henry?" He turned and pointed emphatically to the door.

"We'll take this up another time Maj- Marshall," Daryl grimaced at his flub. "Sorry to have intruded, Mrs. Benbow." He strode quickly across the stage and out the door into the wings.

"Awh shit! I blew that line, didn't I?" He said to Nigel, pounding his fist into his hand.

"It's fine, it worked just fine, Daryl. Your expression was perfect for the situation, nobody will have noticed."

"Yeah?"

"Really."

"Hmmm." Daryl walked away, silently forgiving, and congratulating himself.

Nigel sighed and stepped around Everet, who was gripping his curtain switched with rabid intensity, and waved to Ross. "Cue the telephone at the end of Milo's first sentence."

Ross nodded his reassurance.

"I something the matter between you and Henry, dear?"

"Just the age old game of politics, Miriam." He turned to the writing desk and Shelia gasped aloud.

"Huh? Wha-"

They both looked offstage to Nigel, as the telephone on the desk began to ring, frantically spinning his finger for them to keep going.

"Uh, I'll uh- excuse me dear." Milo recovered, turning back to pick up the telephone.

"Oh dear!" Shelia squeaked again, blushing and rubbing her arm.

"What?" Milo sputtered, staring at her.

"I'll- I'll ah- I'll go and fix some coffee."

She threw a quick glance at the audience and fled the stage with Milo gaping after her in confusion. The telephone rang again, bringing a titter from the audience, as he stared stupidly at the receiver already in his hand.

"Oh Nigel, I'm so sorry- I couldn't help- he's got something horrible running down his neck!" Shelia looked like she was about to faint.

"It's alright, don't get upset." He gestured animatedly to Milo to continue the scene. "These things happen."

"But Now what- I've left the stage, I—"

"Okay, listen, just listen." He soothed, patting her shoulder. "When he's off the phone, go back out and say, 'It'll be ready a few minutes then carry on with your regular lines, okay. You can do this Shelia, c'mon now." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and nodded, breathing deeply and watching for Milo to finish his telephone call.

The scene finally ended, and Everet lowered the curtain, smiling smugly at his control board.

"What the bloody hell..." Milo stormed off stage, arms akimbo and fists clenched, with Shelia pattering after him murmuring apologies.

"It's fine, Milo, everything's fine." Nigel calmed. "Go on down and see uhm- Antonio, about your makeup for the next scene. Away you go. There's a good fellow."

"Oh I've made him so mad—"

"It worked perfectly Shelia, don't bother about it. You were great." Nigel guided her toward the dressing room corridor, waving for Darlene to come and take her off his hands.

"Just a small glitch." Victoria put her arm around him. "The audience didn't mind."

"I think the audience are the least of my worries."

"Well that's what you get for using amateurs." She giggled maliciously, hugging him tight.

"Boy, you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" He looked at her with patient amusement.

"In every way possible, nephew." Her face softened as she kissed his cheek. "Better get back to work dear, they're ready for the scene."

*****