Epico: 7/?
Epico - A Sorta Fairytale: Chapter Seven
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [adayindreamland].
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dominic Monaghan/Emilie de Ravin, Ian Somerhalder/Maggie Grace, Orlando Bloom/Evangeline Lilly
Summary: Love. Friendship. Growth. Sex. Change. Drama. But mostly just sex. Sure, we have a plot… somewhere around here (now where did I put that thing?), but when broken down into its simplest form, Epico = SEX!
Disclaimer: We don't own these people. They're real, sure, but none of these events have or ever will transpire. No offense is meant and we're making no profit from this. Title taken from the song A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos.
Authors’ Notes: We all really hope you enjoy reading Epico (fyi, that’s Spanish for epic, and if you say it out loud, you absolutely must be wearing a sombrero). We’ve been working on this fic for ages and it’s really become our baby - our alcoholic, sex-addicted, constantly horny, and occasionally violent baby whom we love with every bit of our hearts and souls. We realize that no one will be able to give our baby the same unconditional love we have showered upon it, but our hope is that Epico will be able to bring a smile to your face and warm the cockles of your heart. Or it might rot your brain, but that’s the risk you take when dealing with Epico.
Please remember: Feedback is to us as sex is to Magsian, Domilie, and Orlilly. As in, very important, and something that needs to be done 24/7.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
“Josh,” Emilie sighed into the phone, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She glanced up to the streetlight and nearly growled. Still red. “You have to understand, I’m not trying to be unreasonable.”
“I know you’re not.” His reply was far from assuring. “It’s just hard for me to drop everything here in L.A.”
Emilie pressed a little too hard on her gas pedal when the light turned green, her head falling back against the headrest of her seat as she sped down the street. She was already going out of her way to work to pick Dom up, but now she was running late. “I’m not asking you to, I never did. But with the show, we can afford to keep your place in L.A. and also have one here.”
“Do you really wanna deal with having two houses?” he asked at length, the sound of his own car door opening and closing as he made his way inside. “I didn’t peg you as the kind of person who has more places than needed. Next you’ll be asking for a beach house or two in Barbados.”
"Well what exactly are you suggesting, Josh? I can't live in L.A. and shoot in Hawaii, and I'm not going to quit Lost." She sighed, irritation creeping through her body. "Look, I'm late; can we please just talk about this later?"
"Emilie, this is important. This is our future! Baby, please... it'll get to later and you'll be too tired, and I'll be too tired, and I probably won't be able to get a hold of you because of shooting and-"
Emilie couldn't help it. She was already tired, and when she was tired she couldn't multitask so driving came first and Josh came second. His voice became fuzzy static in her ear as she made sure she didn't crash the car and die in a blaze of flames. She loved him, she did, but he'd probably still be talking as her charred body was lifted from the wreckage.
"Em? Emilie? God, Emilie, please don't ignore me. I just... I love you, Em, and I want everything to be perfect. And right now we're not heading anywhere near perfect, and it's freaking me out. You're freaking me out. Can we please just talk about this?" His frustration was evident in his tone and Emilie wished she could say the right thing. But she didn't know what it was, and she had to admit she was freaking out a little too.
She pulled onto Dom's street and sighed again, softer this time. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow?"
"Sure, whatever, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Just be in a better mood, okay? Because I fucking hate it when you're like this with me. There are two people in this relationship, Emilie, and you're one of them." And with that the line went dead, leaving her with nothing but a dull ache in her chest that told her something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong.
Emilie threw her cell phone into the backseat just as she slowed in front of Dom’s house. It was a few annoyingly long moments before the front door swung open and out came a bounding Dom with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
As he slid into the front seat, the smirk was unwavering. “How do you do this fine day, luv?”
Rolling her eyes, Emilie slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, startling Dom as he sunk into his seat and frantically reached for his seatbelt.
“Something wrong?” he asked as she did a sharp u-turn, his tone a mixture of concern for her and fear at being thrown through the windshield if he didn’t buckle up soon.
“No,” she lied, not making eye contact. “Just don’t want to be late.”
Emilie could feel his eyes on her for a couple of minutes then, and she had never felt a stronger contradiction of emotions. With his eyes trained on her she felt like she was on display yet, paradoxically, she was comforted by the fact that he actually cared to know what was wrong.
Then he had to screw it up by being polite and not pushing the subject. “Just burned a CD with some good Aphex Twin songs. Bound to cheer you up, yeah?”
"Yeah," she replied noncommittally, not entirely sure she'd actually heard anything by Aphex Twin before. Dom had fairly good taste when it came to music so she let him put on the CD. What happened next was definitely not what she had expected. A pounding stream of beats assaulted her ears as Dom bobbed his head wildly but in time with the music. It was quite a sight to see: his head bouncing up and down, side to side, hips following the pattern in rapid succession.
A large grin spread across his face, his nose scrunching up, and she almost for a second thought she could hear his teeth clashing together as his movements became crazier, then suddenly slower while the pace of the song changed into an odd video game style interlude. "I fucking love this song!" He said excitedly, looking over at her momentarily. "Techno Tetris, it's called! S'brilliant, isn't it?"
It could've made her smile on any other day. Any. Other. Day.
God, she wished it was a day where she hadn't been up since god knows when shooting, and hadn't had an argument with Josh, and wasn't in a foul mood. His smile was so innocent, his actions so adorable, and that ache in her chest returned for some reason she couldn't bear to pinpoint right now. It was when the vocals kicked in, on repeat, and he started to sing along that the headache formed and she lost it.
"Bloody hell, Dominic, will you stop banging your head around like a retarded gypsy moth!”
His expression wasn't what she had expected either; an odd mixture of pride with underlying hurt and concern. He slowly reached out and pressed stop, twisting in his seat so he could face her more comfortably. "Em..." He trailed off, a crooked smile appearing on his lips.
"What?" She glanced at him, alarmed. "For the love of God, what? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Aw, luv, you have been listening to me when I rattle on about bugs! I'm so proud of you! I'll buy you a cookie if you can name one of the trees that are immune to a gypsy moth." He grinned at her, leaning his head against the headrest.
She pulled up at the lights just as it flashed red and shook her head, looking over at him. "Dom, now really isn't the time or the place for one of your bug quizzes."
"You know you want that cookie... just baked, mmm, and so warm it practically melts on your tongue," he said, his eyes widening innocently as hers narrowed a little.
"Are we still talking about the cookie, or do I have to hit you?"
"Hit me, or spank me?" He replied, that innocent puppy dog look still on his face. She wanted to hit him, or hug him, but the lights flashed from red to green and she pressed her foot on the accelerator. "Sorry, I know I'm talking to a lady with a ring on her finger now. I'll be a good boy, promise."
Emilie sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time that day and brought one hand up to rub against her forehead. "The common olive tree."
"Pardon?" Dom blinked, almost comically.
"The common olive tree is immune to gypsy moths. You owe me a cookie, you brainwashing bug freak."
“I’ll get you one soon enough, young grasshopper.” He bowed his head, then laughed, relaxing back into his seat. When he reached to turn the song back on, she slapped his hand away. “Bloody hell, Em! I hope you don’t make that a habit!”
Her jaw set firm, she slowly shook her head and explained through gritted teeth. “I’ve got a headache and don’t need techno crap pounding away at full volume. This is my car, so you’ll follow my rules.”
“Knew I should have asked Holloway for a ride,” Dom muttered under his breath, receiving another smack from Emilie. He was less than amused, considering the top of his hand still stung from the first hit. “What’s going on, did I do something?”
“No, Dominic, you didn’t do anything.”
“Must’ve, considering you’re full-naming me and all,” he pointed out.
“I just…” she arched her neck to the side abruptly, the sound of it popping bringing a wince to both their faces. “I’m not in the mood.”
Dom threw his hands in the air, “For what? Playful banter? Thought you were always in the mood for that. I mean, is there-is there something wrong?”
“Nothing is-”
“And don’t try to convince me there isn’t,” he warned her quietly, still not taking his eyes off of her. “Come on, you can tell me. What is it?”
"I'm just having a bad day," she said quietly. "Just leave it at that, please, I'm not in the mood to be asked twenty questions."
Dom made a face, his nose scrunched in disgust. "S'not woman's troubles is it? You know..." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Riding the crimson waves?"
"Oh my god! I can't believe you just asked me that!" Emilie smacked him upside the head, not hard enough to injure him badly but just enough to make a satisfyingly audible thwack.
“Jesus, Em! Just tell a bloke he's crossed the line, don't fucking smack his eyeballs out of his head."
Still in complete disbelief, she looked over at him. "You crossed the line. Happy?"
"No, because I have no eyeballs." He shook his head, moving his jaw around a little as he sunk into his seat. "I am never gonna understand you, Emilie de Ravin.”
---
“We’re over.”
The words had been hanging over her head all week. At first she was in denial; Ian was right, they hadn’t gone out on a date or done anything couple-y so, basically, they weren’t anywhere near being a couple. What would she be losing if she let him go, if she let him move on with his life and onto different women?
But when the next day came and she had to film scenes with him-the details of which she couldn’t even recall, other than what Ian was wearing (the tan shirt with the sleeves torn off, strained with dirt and sweat and showing off his amazing arms)-it was as if a stampede had trampled all over her body, leaving her exhausted and unable to think or remember lines.
An entire week of shooting had passed until finally, Maggie had enough of wondering and basically doing nothing. She wasn’t going to sit on her ass and try to figure out how she felt. She was going to do something.
Maggie was going to fix this. She had to.
She had no idea what to label her feelings for Ian or why she needed him so goddamned much, but she did know that she had to fix the problem.
And the feeling of cold sheets next to her in bed was annoying enough, not to mention starting the day without the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. It was like waking up on Christmas morning only to find that there was not one single present; that there wasn’t even a tree.
Lounging on the beach, the sun warm against her stomach, she watched him approach. Every inch of his exposed skin was covered in sweat or dirt and she was overwhelmed with the strong urge to pounce.
Ian pointedly avoided her eyes as he spun off the cap of a water bottle and poured it over his head, letting the cool water wet his hair and trickle down the side of his face. The liquid accentuating every chorded muscle that was available for the eye to see didn’t help either, revealing smooth lines Maggie didn’t know exist.
“Maggie!” yelled the director after several minutes passed and she hadn’t said a word. “Alright, we’ll try it again.”
As the crew moved to reset the camera and lights and reposition themselves, Maggie shook her head and tore her eyes away from Ian, who turned and walked back into the jungle to start the scene over.
“Shit,” Maggie sighed, pointedly reading whatever useless information the magazine offered; desperate to not glance at Ian’s retreating back. “Get a grip.”
---
After about a half a dozen or so takes, Maggie and Ian finished the scene and they had a print for the episode. Shannon was questioning Boone instead of staring at him and wishing he were naked and the director, along with everybody else, was happy to be finished.
Ian made his way towards his trailer, but Maggie-finally thankful for her long legs-caught up quickly. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” He took a long gulp of his water, not even looking at her. He didn’t even slow down until she grabbed onto his arm and forced him to.
“You need to stop avoiding me for one,” she whispered. “Maybe we could have avoided this past week of barely finishing scenes if you’d just-”
“I told you, until you figure out what you want, there’s nothing for us to talk about,” he said in as firm a tone as he could manage. Standing as close to him as she was, she could see his blue eyes clearly and every emotion behind them. He was grasping for control, trying to be cold and distant but was having a hard time with it. The small flicker of hope Maggie had grew ten sizes at that.
“I did, Ian, I…” she let a smile pass over her face. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”
His eyes lit up despite himself, “Like…on a date?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, smile growing as each second passed and he stayed close and listened to her. “There’s this great place I’ve been wanting to try, Foxy talks about it all the time. I’d…I’d really like it if we could go there on Friday.”
“In public?” Ian disguised a laugh as a cough and managed a semi-serious expression. “What if someone sees us?”
“Who cares if they do?”
He smiled then, a full-on smile, and nodded. “Sounds great.”
---
Evi ran her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp as she surveyed the food spread out over the table. She’d just spent three hours up in a tree, nearly falling more than a dozen times, and she was sure when she got home there’d be bruises along the inside of her legs. And despite all of that she had a smile on her face when she heard Dom and Ian approaching, the topic at hand catching her attention.
“He’s a bloody idiot if you ask me,” Dom muttered under his breath as he brushed past Evi to reach out and grab a peach. Taking a big bite out of it, he gave her a swift wink and smirked, “Your boyfriend’s being a bit of a wank these days.”
“My boyfriend?” Evi played dumb, even if the image of Orlando immediately flashed before her eyes.
“Ah, that’s right, your ‘special friend.’” Dom rolled his eyes, exaggerating his point by doing air quotes. “Mr. Orlando Bloom is too busy gallivanting across the beach with Keira to return my calls.”
“Oh!” Evi held her finger up as if it finally hit her, sarcastic. “You meant your boyfriend.”
Ian laughed, ignoring the grapes thrown his way by the Mancunian. “Someone’s a little sensitive today.”
“M’not being sensitive,” Dom narrowed his eyes. “S’just the fact that Bills isn’t going to be able to make it for my birthday, my brother’s busy and so are my parents. Thought it’d be nice to have an old friend to visit.”
“He says it as if we’re not good enough.” Evi feigned hurt when she turned to Ian, who was staring off at something in the distance. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. “Earth to Ian!”
“What? Oh…yeah, sure.” Ian tore his eyes away from watching Maggie try to cool herself off in the shade to turn to meet Evi’s confused stare. “What?”
“Nothing…” the suspicion in her voice was evident, even if she did apparently brush it off.
“Um,” Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat, pushing away from the table to leave. If he timed it right he could pull Maggie out of view from everyone else and have a moment to…“I have to go do something.”
Just as he left, Emilie walked up to the table in a huff, glancing over to Dom and scoffed.
Evi rolled her eyes, head falling back against her shoulders as she groaned. “What the hell’s going on with everybody today?”
“I’m sorry, forgive me, I must be riding the crimson waves or something,” Emilie snapped, grabbing a dozen pieces of celery and pointedly snapping them in half as she glared at Dom.
“Riding the crimson waves? Who says that?”
“Certain hobbits who don’t know when to just shut up and…” Emilie stopped herself before she could go any further. Taking in a deep breath, she looked across the table at Dom evenly. “Look, Dom…I’m-”
“S’alright,” Dom shrugged, putting a few more things on his plate before slowly backing away. “Just having a bad day, I’ll leave you girls to your talk of manicures and fake orgasms.”
“You know, that’s not actually what we talk about all the time but whatever,” Evi patted him on the back supportively before he vacated. When he was out of earshot she gave Emilie a scolding look, “What’s up with you two today? Are we looking for another rerun of awkwardness? Because I didn’t like it the first time around and-”
“No, it isn’t that,” Emilie cut her off, dropping her celery on her plate. “I’m just not having a good day so far and I took it out on Dom a little.”
“Dom’s used to being picked on, so you must’ve taken it out on him a lot,” Evi pointed out.
“Well, he got in my car and-” she paused when Yunjin and a flushed Maggie approached before continuing. “I dunno, I had a bit of an argument with Josh and it’s just…I’m so sick and tired of arguing.”
“Then don’t argue anymore,” Yunjin suggested.
“It’s not that simple,” Emilie, frustrated with her hair in her face, put it into a sloppy ponytail before slapping her hands down on the table, startling the other three women. “Josh and I want different things half the time and I can’t force him to think differently. And I won’t let him force me either.”
“Compromise.”
“We have but…I dunno, he’s flying in tomorrow, we’ll work it out.”
Evi rubbed her back comfortingly. “You should rest or something, you look tired.”
“I am,” Emilie said quietly. “I’m just getting to the point where I don’t even want to work it out.”
Maggie looked to her friend and roommate with sympathy, feeling sad just looking at her. “Well, maybe that’s the problem…”
She looked at the taller blonde but found she couldn’t even disagree with what she’d said.
---
Tomorrow came sooner than Emilie thought. One minute she was tired and exhausted and thinking she could ‘work things out’ with Josh and the next she was driving from the airport with Josh rambling on in the passenger seat, apologizing for the way he came off and saying he agreed, that they should buy a house, that she was right. He told her he contacted a realtor and that they’d hear in a few days if there were any good houses for sale in the area.
Without a moment to breathe, Emilie and Josh received a phone call the very next day. A house within their price range, beautiful and on the beach. And it was spacious so if they had any “additions” on the way, as the realtor put it, they’d have more than enough room. Josh insisted on looking at it right away. Emilie didn’t have the heart to argue against it.
The car came to a complete stop and she stayed in her seat, frozen. Josh was peeking through his window at a large white house, talking rapidly about window structures and balconies and all sorts of things her brain couldn't handle right now. She merely watched her hands in the regulation two and ten spots, the way her knuckles were whitened with pressure, the tiny glint of light reflecting from her ring.
"...and look, there's actually a white picket fence! How crazy is that?" Josh laughed excitedly and opened the car door, slamming it harder than he had intended and shocking her out of her stupor. "Em, this place is perfect!"
"Looks great," she responded blandly.
He looked back at the car and spotted her still sitting there. With a small frown he knelt down next to his open window and looked at her concerned. "Baby, you okay?"
"I'm fine, really." She forced a smile on her face and carefully extracted her hands from their place. Her ring felt slightly more uncomfortable than usual and she rubbed absently at the space between the band and her knuckle before opening her door and stepping out.
"Then let's go inside and check it out!" Josh held his hand out, big smile stretching across his face when she took it. The realtor walked outside onto the porch and waved them over as they approached along the stone path.
Emilie couldn’t fight the unsettling feeling gnawing at the inside of her stomach, like she’d had something bad to eat. She would have assumed that’s what it was but she opted out of lunch before driving to the house, the sense of appetite lost to her as the thoughts of buying and owning a home with Josh, taking that next big step, overwhelmed her.
Once inside, Josh and the realtor-a short man with only an inch or two over her named Clarence-talked about moldings while she fell behind, staring at framework of the doorway. Clean, comforting, perfect. And when she stepped inside, the word perfect hit her like a train again. The word might as well have been painted all over the walls, it was so goddamned amazing and exactly as she pictured it in her mind.
It wasn’t furnished but she could easily imagine it that way; chairs and couches and end tables of warm colors falling in tune with the walls, a welcome picture for guests. The walls were a melted color that reminded Emilie of a house in Tuscany. It was exactly as she imagined it.
She stood in the house, the world she and Josh shared, just a few feet from the doorway leading outside, to the other world; the world with her friends and her work and her life. She was standing in her dream home with an enthusiastic fiancé-who finally agreed with her on buying a house in Hawaii-and all she could think about was how much she wanted to leave and go learn to surf with Dom.
The entire ordeal was giving her an even more unpleasant feeling. It almost felt like she was splitting right down the middle; one half pleading to buy this fantastic house and marry Josh and live happily ever after while the other screamed and shouted to be let out of this place, to be freed from this four walled prison and be allowed to work all day and laugh and have fun all night. And all she wanted was the pain and the headache to stop, but she didn't know how she could make it.
Or maybe, she reasoned, she already knew how she could stop it but she also knew that it was going to hurt just as much to decide.
Josh appeared in a doorway down the hall and waved at her cheerfully, smile so wide it looked like it hurt. "Em! What are you doing just standing there? Clarence said if we're done down here, we can go check upstairs."
One of the ground rules in any horror film was that running upstairs equaled certain death. There was no way to escape up there unless you were feeling particularly brave and wanted to try your hand at jumping out a window or off the roof. If you were smart, and you wanted to live, then you had to run out the front or back door and get the hell away from whoever was behind you with a razor sharp blade or some other implement that would hurt like hell.
“I don't want to die," she said suddenly.
"Nobody wants to die, but we don't tend to have these thoughts while we're trying be shown round a house." Josh looked at her, a little confused, and then shifted his gaze to the stairs. "Do they look unstable or something? I'll go first if you want."
Emilie shook her head and took a step back towards the door. "No, I don't want you to die either. But if we go upstairs then that's what'll happen. We'll buy our dream house, settle down into our dream relationship, have our dream children and we'll die. I don't want to be in a dream my whole life, Josh. I want to wake up and I want to live."
"I don't get it. Do... do you not want the house? Because you're overreacting just a little bit." He measured out a small amount with his thumb and forefinger to punctuate his point.
“What if…” She didn’t move forward-two feet from the doorway was already two feet too far away-and the way she stayed glued to the spot must’ve triggered something in Josh’s mind that this was no laughing matter, because his entire body seemed to slump as he waited for her to finish. “It’s not the house, Josh.”
“Then what is it?” Despite obviously being afraid of the answer to his question, he still stepped closer, concerned. “You can tell me, Emilie, whatever it is.”
“It’s not the house,” she repeated weakly, nodding to herself. “If anything, if there was a reason for me to stop worrying and stop wanting things and stop not wanting other things, it would be this house, believe me.”
“Baby…” His hand touched hers and she drew it away like it had been burned.
“I’m sorry,” she immediately said and carefully slipped her hand under his to appease him. “I…Josh, I love you, I want you to know that.”
“I do know that, but right now you’re scaring me,” he tilted his head so he could see her better. He swallowed and it was so loud it seemed to echo throughout the entire empty house. His hand was starting to shake a little. Or maybe that was her own hand.
Emilie took in a deep breath and finally said it, “I don’t want to get married, Josh.”
“That’s fine, baby, we can wait, I don’t…” He offered her a sweet smile and brought his free hand to the side of her face, like he’d accidentally upset her. “I don’t want you to feel pressured that we have to get married right now-”
“No, I-that’s not what I’m saying,” Emilie shook her head and placed her hand over his. “I don’t want to marry you, Josh.”
"Is it me?" He swallowed, blinking back what she desperately hoped wasn't what it looked like. "I mean, did I do something wrong?"
"Josh, it's nothing like that okay? I just... I took a step back and I looked, really looked at my life, and I don't want to hurt you by entering into something that I can't be a hundred percent committed to."
"You're ending this right now? Why now? Emilie, I nearly gave up everything to come live out here."
Emilie managed a small smile and slowly pulled her hand back. "And now you don't have to. Who am I to make you drop everything to be with me? That's not fair. It's not fair on you, and it's not fair on me. It's better this way, for both of us."
Josh wasn’t anywhere near smiling. “You…how can you say that it’s fair for this to end? I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t want to give everything up. Because I do, whatever it takes. I want us to be happy.”
“That’s the point, Josh,” Emilie watched as he took a step back, away from her-this woman he hardly knew all of a sudden. “I don’t see myself being happy, not like this.”
“I don’t get how this-it’s coming out of nowhere for me, Emilie, because up until now I was under the impression that we were happy, that you made me happy and that I-” his jaw was set firm as he looked at her in disbelief. “I thought I made you happy.”
“It’s not your fault, Josh. You’re a great, amazing guy and these past two years have been…I don’t regret a single moment of it.”
There was no going back now as Josh continued to step away slowly. There must’ve been a strong sense of conviction in her eyes that he saw, that proved to him she wasn’t just overreacting or having a mood swing. This was how she felt. And it hurt her more than anything to know that she was the one doing this to him.
"So what? It was fun while it lasted?" Josh shook his head, laughing but it held no humor. "I can't even begin to... it's just over? We're finished? Done?"
"Stop it! Please, just stop it. I love you, I always have and I probably always will. But the future…I don’t want this-” she motioned from him to her and to the house, “I don’t want this future and I'm sorry, but what would you rather have me do? Stick around and pretend everything’s perfect and fine? I'm not trying to hurt you! I want you to be happy and I know you won’t be with me.”
Josh continued to back away, not stopping until his back came into contact with the banister. He winced slightly but it was obvious that the only thing he could even focus on was her and what she was telling him. He couldn't understand how she'd been fine earlier and now... now there was just this.
"If you're going to leave, then just do it," he said firmly. "I don't want to hear anymore of this. I can't. Just... just go."
Emilie nodded, even if the thought of leaving him like this was awful enough. "If that's what you want." She turned and walked towards the front door, opening it and feeling a cool breeze wash over her. "I'm sorry," she said, so quiet the wind might have carried it away if she wasn’t so sure he could still hear her. "For everything. I never meant to hurt you like this."
"Well you did, Emilie."
She turned just in time to see him walk up the stairs, each step louder than the last as his anger began to seep through. Emilie shut the door quietly behind her and took a deep breath. There was a wave of emotions coursing through her but she barely had the energy to move let alone sift through them. All she knew was that it was finally over. Maybe tomorrow she'd start her surfing lessons.
---
Maggie was pretty sure this was not what she had pictured herself doing in those first few weeks of shooting Lost. At the beginning it had just been a fleeting thought that Ian was hot and had a cute ass. Maybe in the back of her brain she was listing off the things about him that would make him dateable; hot, cute ass, smart, funny, dorky in a good way... But still, she'd never exactly thought they'd spend some time having casual sex whenever and wherever before they actually sat down to a date. Not that she was complaining. It was just unexpected.
She reached over to steal his drink and taste it; she couldn't remember what the hell it was called, but it was a nice color and she was feeling brave. While in the process of leaning over, her arm brushed his and she felt the usual sparks. Probably ten times worse because they hadn't had sex for like ever, and having to sit opposite him while he was wearing one of those button-up shirts with the first three buttons undone was killing her. If it wasn't such a public place she would enjoy pouncing on him right now.
"So were you gonna ask first, or was stealing it always on your secret agenda?" Ian watched amused as she leaned back into her seat and took his drink with her. "Because for the record, I probably would've said yeah."
"For the record I know you'd probably say yes to a lot of things I asked, so it was pretty pointless."
Ian laughed and reached over, stealing her drink in retaliation. "Oh yeah? Like what?”
"I can't tell you!" She swallowed some of his drink and nodded a little with approval before setting it down. "Not bad. And I can't tell you, because if you knew then you'd make a point of saying no when I asked one of the questions."
"I would not! Why would I do that?"
"Because you're immature," she replied with a grin, stretching one of her legs and ‘accidentally’ brushing her foot against the hem of his trouser leg.
With a grin, Ian raised his eyebrows slightly. "Are you attempting to play footsie with me?"
"Might be." She brushed her foot past his leg again, trying to look as innocent as possible but failing more with every second. "Why, you got a problem with that?"
"No problem. This time, though, you’d better check that Orlando isn't around so you can't give him any more surprises."
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Maggie grinned coquettishly as she watched Ian casually drop a napkin over his lap.
Ian shook his head and tried not to let his eyes roll back when her toes moved so high up his leg she could count the change in hic pockets. “No….no you’re-!”
His voice jumped up a few octaves when Maggie did a little trick with her big toe, surprising him. Thankfully, no one noticed.
“You’re evil,” he practically growled under his breath. “Maybe I should keep you as a secret.”
“Oh? Well you’re a dork so maybe you should stay a secret too,” she shot back, still amused. “It’s funner, I get to do things like this to you and you have to act like nothing’s going on.”
“To be fair, even if everyone in the world knew we’re whatever we are, I’d still...” he took a moment to put his fist against his mouth to suppress a small groan as Maggie continued to torture him. “I’d still have to pretend. Doesn’t matter how famous we are, nobody wants customers making each other com-”
Ian stopped himself just in time as both he and Maggie saw a familiar face approach, the latter slowly removing her foot from Ian’s crotch and the former putting another napkin on his lap.
Foxy stood in all his glory at the end of their table, wide smile on his face as he surveyed his two friends together. "Maggie! Ian! Good to see you guys, how's it going?"
"It's going great, thanks." Maggie smiled at him, keeping him occupied with her while Ian cleared his throat and tried to arrange the napkins a little better without being caught. "So what are you doing here?"
"I'm here with some of the guys, actually. You should've told us you two were gonna hang out tonight! We could've had a big get-together."
Maggie and Ian exchanged a surreptitious glance and then turned their gazes back to Foxy, both putting on smiles as Ian nodded. "Well, this was just kind of unplanned, y’know…”
Holloway appeared somewhere in the distance and Foxy waved him over before turning back to them. "Well how about now? You guys wouldn't mind, would you?"
Maggie and Ian both looked to each other for a brief moment, exchanging a million thoughts in the span of a second or two. But the decision already seemed to be made by the hostess who, with a polite smile, motioned to the empty table beside Maggie and Ian’s, asking if Foxy and his ‘party’ would like to sit there.
“Sounds great,” Foxy thanked her, sitting down at an angle so he was still facing the two. “Next round’s on me, after the day I had.”
“I didn’t know you were working today,” Maggie commented.
Foxy waved it off, “No, Marguerite and I…you kids’ll understand when you get married.”
Again, Maggie and Ian shared a glance before Ian made a joke of it. “Yeah, us kids. We’re too busy sucking on our thumbs and eating with bibs to understand the complexity of relationships.”
Maggie playfully slapped his arm, “You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone that I still sucked my thumb.”
Holloway sat down on Foxy’s other side as Jorge sat across from them. “Don’t listen to Matt, he’s just crabby ‘cause his dentures are bothering him.”
“Hey, guys,” Jorge leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “How do you think Emilie’s doing? I heard about her and Josh.”
“I dunno,” Holloway shook his head. “Poor girl, been a bit quiet all day, from what I saw.”
Maggie took another sip of Ian’s drink. “They just broke up yesterday, it’ll take her a while to…I don’t really know, actually. She’s the one that ended it and it seems like she’s blaming herself a little.”
“Well,” Foxy grabbed the glass of water placed down before him and raised it. “She’ll get through it, we’ll help her.”
Everyone made noises of agreement and raised their glasses.
---
Ian looked down at his watch and disguised a frustrated groan with a cough. He mouthed to Maggie, nine o’clock. They’d been there for an hour and hadn’t even been able to enjoy their date, because Foxy and Holloway were too busy laughing at some story Jorge was telling.
Her foot brushed along his leg again and he smiled to himself. Their eyes met and they finally just dropped all pretenses and smiled-beamed-at each other as they came to an agreement.
Clearing her throat, Maggie reached down beside the leg of her chair for her purse and gave an apologetic look to the three gentlemen sitting a few feet away. “Sorry guys, but I’m pooped.”
They expressed sympathy and she congratulated herself in her head, turning to Ian. “Ride home?”
Ian feigned half-hearted frustration. “I suggested we take two cars but no, you just had to insist.”
“You coming back after you drop her off?” Jorge asked absently, downing the last of his water. “Because being the designated driver with these two is going to be a handful.”
Feeling only a little guilty at having to lie to his friend, who wasn’t feigning frustration with having to deal with a shitfaced Holloway and Foxy at all, Ian gave a noncommittal nod.
After saying their goodbyes and getting their coats, Maggie and Ian made a hasty retreat.
“That was an interesting first date,” Maggie noted as he opened the door to the car for her and she slid into the passenger seat. He ran around the front of the car and hopped in, slamming the door shut and leaning over to give her a quick kiss. She smiled as he pulled away and started the engine. “What was that for?”
“You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted sheepishly. “I wanted to tell you that about a dozen times.”
“Oh,” Maggie brought her hand to her mouth as she grinned like a fool for a moment before leaning over and turning his head to give him a deep kiss, tongue teasing his lips and causing the car to swerve a little.
“Um,” Ian cleared his throat and shook his head a little to get his eyes to focus back on the road. “What…um, whatwasthatfor?”
“I wanted to do that all week,” Maggie said with a proud smile and then, under her breath, “Among other things.”
Ian’s grip tightened on the steering wheel and he pressed a little harder on the gas pedal. When Maggie giggled, he offered a weak excuse. “Just want to beat traffic.”
“Sure,” she said, not believing a word of it.
---
Ian yanked at the strap of her dress, nearly ripping it, as his mouth collided in a bruising kiss. “Emilie home?”
“I was thinking we could do this without her,” Maggie laughed against his lips, practically clawing at his shirt; already knowing that Emilie was going to be late because of a scene with Terry.
“Shut up,” he growled.
“You know, we-” she barely had the willpower to pull Ian away from her neck to look him in the eyes, cheeks flushed bright red and breathing in sharp intakes. “We could have told them about us.”
Ian’s eyes trailed all over her face, studying her for a moment before giving a small nod, “Yeah, we could’ve. But we didn’t.”
His fingers found the hidden zipper at the back of her dress and slowly pulled it down as Maggie tried to keep her eyes from shutting involuntarily at the feeling of cool air along her spine. “I want you to know…I would’ve, if you wanted me to. I would’ve been fine with it.”
“I know,” he smiled sweetly, almost like he was impressed, and kissed the corner of her mouth. “That’s why I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this with, doesn’t matter if it’s a secret as long as it’s with you.”
Maggie’s hands dropped down between them to undo his belt, “So you’re admitting you overreacted before?”
“Before…?” Ian kissed her neck as his pants fell around his ankles. Searching hands snuck under her dress to slip under the fabric of her panties as he spoke against her flushed, sensitive skin. “Sure, fine.”
“Do you even know what ‘before’ I’m referring to?” Maggie grinned into his hair as he slid the fabric down her legs until she kicked them off.
Ian let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head, pulling back just far enough to kiss her chin and look up at her with pleading eyes. “This isn’t really the time to be thinking about anything other than getting naked as quickly as possible.”
His fingers drifted over the inside of thigh and Maggie’s entire body shook at the feeling. She nodded faintly, “You’re…you’re right, talking is-”
“Stupid?”
“Right now it is.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed the collar of his shirt, ripping it open and sending the buttons flying every which way. They both laughed. “Maybe if Emilie finds buttons from your shirt she’ll finally clue in, you think?”
Ian brought his other hand to the side of her face and leaned in to give her a short but scorching kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
TBC…
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [adayindreamland].
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dominic Monaghan/Emilie de Ravin, Ian Somerhalder/Maggie Grace, Orlando Bloom/Evangeline Lilly
Summary: Love. Friendship. Growth. Sex. Change. Drama. But mostly just sex. Sure, we have a plot… somewhere around here (now where did I put that thing?), but when broken down into its simplest form, Epico = SEX!
Disclaimer: We don't own these people. They're real, sure, but none of these events have or ever will transpire. No offense is meant and we're making no profit from this. Title taken from the song A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos.
Authors’ Notes: We all really hope you enjoy reading Epico (fyi, that’s Spanish for epic, and if you say it out loud, you absolutely must be wearing a sombrero). We’ve been working on this fic for ages and it’s really become our baby - our alcoholic, sex-addicted, constantly horny, and occasionally violent baby whom we love with every bit of our hearts and souls. We realize that no one will be able to give our baby the same unconditional love we have showered upon it, but our hope is that Epico will be able to bring a smile to your face and warm the cockles of your heart. Or it might rot your brain, but that’s the risk you take when dealing with Epico.
Please remember: Feedback is to us as sex is to Magsian, Domilie, and Orlilly. As in, very important, and something that needs to be done 24/7.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
“Josh,” Emilie sighed into the phone, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She glanced up to the streetlight and nearly growled. Still red. “You have to understand, I’m not trying to be unreasonable.”
“I know you’re not.” His reply was far from assuring. “It’s just hard for me to drop everything here in L.A.”
Emilie pressed a little too hard on her gas pedal when the light turned green, her head falling back against the headrest of her seat as she sped down the street. She was already going out of her way to work to pick Dom up, but now she was running late. “I’m not asking you to, I never did. But with the show, we can afford to keep your place in L.A. and also have one here.”
“Do you really wanna deal with having two houses?” he asked at length, the sound of his own car door opening and closing as he made his way inside. “I didn’t peg you as the kind of person who has more places than needed. Next you’ll be asking for a beach house or two in Barbados.”
"Well what exactly are you suggesting, Josh? I can't live in L.A. and shoot in Hawaii, and I'm not going to quit Lost." She sighed, irritation creeping through her body. "Look, I'm late; can we please just talk about this later?"
"Emilie, this is important. This is our future! Baby, please... it'll get to later and you'll be too tired, and I'll be too tired, and I probably won't be able to get a hold of you because of shooting and-"
Emilie couldn't help it. She was already tired, and when she was tired she couldn't multitask so driving came first and Josh came second. His voice became fuzzy static in her ear as she made sure she didn't crash the car and die in a blaze of flames. She loved him, she did, but he'd probably still be talking as her charred body was lifted from the wreckage.
"Em? Emilie? God, Emilie, please don't ignore me. I just... I love you, Em, and I want everything to be perfect. And right now we're not heading anywhere near perfect, and it's freaking me out. You're freaking me out. Can we please just talk about this?" His frustration was evident in his tone and Emilie wished she could say the right thing. But she didn't know what it was, and she had to admit she was freaking out a little too.
She pulled onto Dom's street and sighed again, softer this time. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow?"
"Sure, whatever, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Just be in a better mood, okay? Because I fucking hate it when you're like this with me. There are two people in this relationship, Emilie, and you're one of them." And with that the line went dead, leaving her with nothing but a dull ache in her chest that told her something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong.
Emilie threw her cell phone into the backseat just as she slowed in front of Dom’s house. It was a few annoyingly long moments before the front door swung open and out came a bounding Dom with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
As he slid into the front seat, the smirk was unwavering. “How do you do this fine day, luv?”
Rolling her eyes, Emilie slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, startling Dom as he sunk into his seat and frantically reached for his seatbelt.
“Something wrong?” he asked as she did a sharp u-turn, his tone a mixture of concern for her and fear at being thrown through the windshield if he didn’t buckle up soon.
“No,” she lied, not making eye contact. “Just don’t want to be late.”
Emilie could feel his eyes on her for a couple of minutes then, and she had never felt a stronger contradiction of emotions. With his eyes trained on her she felt like she was on display yet, paradoxically, she was comforted by the fact that he actually cared to know what was wrong.
Then he had to screw it up by being polite and not pushing the subject. “Just burned a CD with some good Aphex Twin songs. Bound to cheer you up, yeah?”
"Yeah," she replied noncommittally, not entirely sure she'd actually heard anything by Aphex Twin before. Dom had fairly good taste when it came to music so she let him put on the CD. What happened next was definitely not what she had expected. A pounding stream of beats assaulted her ears as Dom bobbed his head wildly but in time with the music. It was quite a sight to see: his head bouncing up and down, side to side, hips following the pattern in rapid succession.
A large grin spread across his face, his nose scrunching up, and she almost for a second thought she could hear his teeth clashing together as his movements became crazier, then suddenly slower while the pace of the song changed into an odd video game style interlude. "I fucking love this song!" He said excitedly, looking over at her momentarily. "Techno Tetris, it's called! S'brilliant, isn't it?"
It could've made her smile on any other day. Any. Other. Day.
God, she wished it was a day where she hadn't been up since god knows when shooting, and hadn't had an argument with Josh, and wasn't in a foul mood. His smile was so innocent, his actions so adorable, and that ache in her chest returned for some reason she couldn't bear to pinpoint right now. It was when the vocals kicked in, on repeat, and he started to sing along that the headache formed and she lost it.
"Bloody hell, Dominic, will you stop banging your head around like a retarded gypsy moth!”
His expression wasn't what she had expected either; an odd mixture of pride with underlying hurt and concern. He slowly reached out and pressed stop, twisting in his seat so he could face her more comfortably. "Em..." He trailed off, a crooked smile appearing on his lips.
"What?" She glanced at him, alarmed. "For the love of God, what? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Aw, luv, you have been listening to me when I rattle on about bugs! I'm so proud of you! I'll buy you a cookie if you can name one of the trees that are immune to a gypsy moth." He grinned at her, leaning his head against the headrest.
She pulled up at the lights just as it flashed red and shook her head, looking over at him. "Dom, now really isn't the time or the place for one of your bug quizzes."
"You know you want that cookie... just baked, mmm, and so warm it practically melts on your tongue," he said, his eyes widening innocently as hers narrowed a little.
"Are we still talking about the cookie, or do I have to hit you?"
"Hit me, or spank me?" He replied, that innocent puppy dog look still on his face. She wanted to hit him, or hug him, but the lights flashed from red to green and she pressed her foot on the accelerator. "Sorry, I know I'm talking to a lady with a ring on her finger now. I'll be a good boy, promise."
Emilie sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time that day and brought one hand up to rub against her forehead. "The common olive tree."
"Pardon?" Dom blinked, almost comically.
"The common olive tree is immune to gypsy moths. You owe me a cookie, you brainwashing bug freak."
“I’ll get you one soon enough, young grasshopper.” He bowed his head, then laughed, relaxing back into his seat. When he reached to turn the song back on, she slapped his hand away. “Bloody hell, Em! I hope you don’t make that a habit!”
Her jaw set firm, she slowly shook her head and explained through gritted teeth. “I’ve got a headache and don’t need techno crap pounding away at full volume. This is my car, so you’ll follow my rules.”
“Knew I should have asked Holloway for a ride,” Dom muttered under his breath, receiving another smack from Emilie. He was less than amused, considering the top of his hand still stung from the first hit. “What’s going on, did I do something?”
“No, Dominic, you didn’t do anything.”
“Must’ve, considering you’re full-naming me and all,” he pointed out.
“I just…” she arched her neck to the side abruptly, the sound of it popping bringing a wince to both their faces. “I’m not in the mood.”
Dom threw his hands in the air, “For what? Playful banter? Thought you were always in the mood for that. I mean, is there-is there something wrong?”
“Nothing is-”
“And don’t try to convince me there isn’t,” he warned her quietly, still not taking his eyes off of her. “Come on, you can tell me. What is it?”
"I'm just having a bad day," she said quietly. "Just leave it at that, please, I'm not in the mood to be asked twenty questions."
Dom made a face, his nose scrunched in disgust. "S'not woman's troubles is it? You know..." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Riding the crimson waves?"
"Oh my god! I can't believe you just asked me that!" Emilie smacked him upside the head, not hard enough to injure him badly but just enough to make a satisfyingly audible thwack.
“Jesus, Em! Just tell a bloke he's crossed the line, don't fucking smack his eyeballs out of his head."
Still in complete disbelief, she looked over at him. "You crossed the line. Happy?"
"No, because I have no eyeballs." He shook his head, moving his jaw around a little as he sunk into his seat. "I am never gonna understand you, Emilie de Ravin.”
---
“We’re over.”
The words had been hanging over her head all week. At first she was in denial; Ian was right, they hadn’t gone out on a date or done anything couple-y so, basically, they weren’t anywhere near being a couple. What would she be losing if she let him go, if she let him move on with his life and onto different women?
But when the next day came and she had to film scenes with him-the details of which she couldn’t even recall, other than what Ian was wearing (the tan shirt with the sleeves torn off, strained with dirt and sweat and showing off his amazing arms)-it was as if a stampede had trampled all over her body, leaving her exhausted and unable to think or remember lines.
An entire week of shooting had passed until finally, Maggie had enough of wondering and basically doing nothing. She wasn’t going to sit on her ass and try to figure out how she felt. She was going to do something.
Maggie was going to fix this. She had to.
She had no idea what to label her feelings for Ian or why she needed him so goddamned much, but she did know that she had to fix the problem.
And the feeling of cold sheets next to her in bed was annoying enough, not to mention starting the day without the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. It was like waking up on Christmas morning only to find that there was not one single present; that there wasn’t even a tree.
Lounging on the beach, the sun warm against her stomach, she watched him approach. Every inch of his exposed skin was covered in sweat or dirt and she was overwhelmed with the strong urge to pounce.
Ian pointedly avoided her eyes as he spun off the cap of a water bottle and poured it over his head, letting the cool water wet his hair and trickle down the side of his face. The liquid accentuating every chorded muscle that was available for the eye to see didn’t help either, revealing smooth lines Maggie didn’t know exist.
“Maggie!” yelled the director after several minutes passed and she hadn’t said a word. “Alright, we’ll try it again.”
As the crew moved to reset the camera and lights and reposition themselves, Maggie shook her head and tore her eyes away from Ian, who turned and walked back into the jungle to start the scene over.
“Shit,” Maggie sighed, pointedly reading whatever useless information the magazine offered; desperate to not glance at Ian’s retreating back. “Get a grip.”
---
After about a half a dozen or so takes, Maggie and Ian finished the scene and they had a print for the episode. Shannon was questioning Boone instead of staring at him and wishing he were naked and the director, along with everybody else, was happy to be finished.
Ian made his way towards his trailer, but Maggie-finally thankful for her long legs-caught up quickly. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” He took a long gulp of his water, not even looking at her. He didn’t even slow down until she grabbed onto his arm and forced him to.
“You need to stop avoiding me for one,” she whispered. “Maybe we could have avoided this past week of barely finishing scenes if you’d just-”
“I told you, until you figure out what you want, there’s nothing for us to talk about,” he said in as firm a tone as he could manage. Standing as close to him as she was, she could see his blue eyes clearly and every emotion behind them. He was grasping for control, trying to be cold and distant but was having a hard time with it. The small flicker of hope Maggie had grew ten sizes at that.
“I did, Ian, I…” she let a smile pass over her face. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”
His eyes lit up despite himself, “Like…on a date?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, smile growing as each second passed and he stayed close and listened to her. “There’s this great place I’ve been wanting to try, Foxy talks about it all the time. I’d…I’d really like it if we could go there on Friday.”
“In public?” Ian disguised a laugh as a cough and managed a semi-serious expression. “What if someone sees us?”
“Who cares if they do?”
He smiled then, a full-on smile, and nodded. “Sounds great.”
---
Evi ran her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp as she surveyed the food spread out over the table. She’d just spent three hours up in a tree, nearly falling more than a dozen times, and she was sure when she got home there’d be bruises along the inside of her legs. And despite all of that she had a smile on her face when she heard Dom and Ian approaching, the topic at hand catching her attention.
“He’s a bloody idiot if you ask me,” Dom muttered under his breath as he brushed past Evi to reach out and grab a peach. Taking a big bite out of it, he gave her a swift wink and smirked, “Your boyfriend’s being a bit of a wank these days.”
“My boyfriend?” Evi played dumb, even if the image of Orlando immediately flashed before her eyes.
“Ah, that’s right, your ‘special friend.’” Dom rolled his eyes, exaggerating his point by doing air quotes. “Mr. Orlando Bloom is too busy gallivanting across the beach with Keira to return my calls.”
“Oh!” Evi held her finger up as if it finally hit her, sarcastic. “You meant your boyfriend.”
Ian laughed, ignoring the grapes thrown his way by the Mancunian. “Someone’s a little sensitive today.”
“M’not being sensitive,” Dom narrowed his eyes. “S’just the fact that Bills isn’t going to be able to make it for my birthday, my brother’s busy and so are my parents. Thought it’d be nice to have an old friend to visit.”
“He says it as if we’re not good enough.” Evi feigned hurt when she turned to Ian, who was staring off at something in the distance. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. “Earth to Ian!”
“What? Oh…yeah, sure.” Ian tore his eyes away from watching Maggie try to cool herself off in the shade to turn to meet Evi’s confused stare. “What?”
“Nothing…” the suspicion in her voice was evident, even if she did apparently brush it off.
“Um,” Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat, pushing away from the table to leave. If he timed it right he could pull Maggie out of view from everyone else and have a moment to…“I have to go do something.”
Just as he left, Emilie walked up to the table in a huff, glancing over to Dom and scoffed.
Evi rolled her eyes, head falling back against her shoulders as she groaned. “What the hell’s going on with everybody today?”
“I’m sorry, forgive me, I must be riding the crimson waves or something,” Emilie snapped, grabbing a dozen pieces of celery and pointedly snapping them in half as she glared at Dom.
“Riding the crimson waves? Who says that?”
“Certain hobbits who don’t know when to just shut up and…” Emilie stopped herself before she could go any further. Taking in a deep breath, she looked across the table at Dom evenly. “Look, Dom…I’m-”
“S’alright,” Dom shrugged, putting a few more things on his plate before slowly backing away. “Just having a bad day, I’ll leave you girls to your talk of manicures and fake orgasms.”
“You know, that’s not actually what we talk about all the time but whatever,” Evi patted him on the back supportively before he vacated. When he was out of earshot she gave Emilie a scolding look, “What’s up with you two today? Are we looking for another rerun of awkwardness? Because I didn’t like it the first time around and-”
“No, it isn’t that,” Emilie cut her off, dropping her celery on her plate. “I’m just not having a good day so far and I took it out on Dom a little.”
“Dom’s used to being picked on, so you must’ve taken it out on him a lot,” Evi pointed out.
“Well, he got in my car and-” she paused when Yunjin and a flushed Maggie approached before continuing. “I dunno, I had a bit of an argument with Josh and it’s just…I’m so sick and tired of arguing.”
“Then don’t argue anymore,” Yunjin suggested.
“It’s not that simple,” Emilie, frustrated with her hair in her face, put it into a sloppy ponytail before slapping her hands down on the table, startling the other three women. “Josh and I want different things half the time and I can’t force him to think differently. And I won’t let him force me either.”
“Compromise.”
“We have but…I dunno, he’s flying in tomorrow, we’ll work it out.”
Evi rubbed her back comfortingly. “You should rest or something, you look tired.”
“I am,” Emilie said quietly. “I’m just getting to the point where I don’t even want to work it out.”
Maggie looked to her friend and roommate with sympathy, feeling sad just looking at her. “Well, maybe that’s the problem…”
She looked at the taller blonde but found she couldn’t even disagree with what she’d said.
---
Tomorrow came sooner than Emilie thought. One minute she was tired and exhausted and thinking she could ‘work things out’ with Josh and the next she was driving from the airport with Josh rambling on in the passenger seat, apologizing for the way he came off and saying he agreed, that they should buy a house, that she was right. He told her he contacted a realtor and that they’d hear in a few days if there were any good houses for sale in the area.
Without a moment to breathe, Emilie and Josh received a phone call the very next day. A house within their price range, beautiful and on the beach. And it was spacious so if they had any “additions” on the way, as the realtor put it, they’d have more than enough room. Josh insisted on looking at it right away. Emilie didn’t have the heart to argue against it.
The car came to a complete stop and she stayed in her seat, frozen. Josh was peeking through his window at a large white house, talking rapidly about window structures and balconies and all sorts of things her brain couldn't handle right now. She merely watched her hands in the regulation two and ten spots, the way her knuckles were whitened with pressure, the tiny glint of light reflecting from her ring.
"...and look, there's actually a white picket fence! How crazy is that?" Josh laughed excitedly and opened the car door, slamming it harder than he had intended and shocking her out of her stupor. "Em, this place is perfect!"
"Looks great," she responded blandly.
He looked back at the car and spotted her still sitting there. With a small frown he knelt down next to his open window and looked at her concerned. "Baby, you okay?"
"I'm fine, really." She forced a smile on her face and carefully extracted her hands from their place. Her ring felt slightly more uncomfortable than usual and she rubbed absently at the space between the band and her knuckle before opening her door and stepping out.
"Then let's go inside and check it out!" Josh held his hand out, big smile stretching across his face when she took it. The realtor walked outside onto the porch and waved them over as they approached along the stone path.
Emilie couldn’t fight the unsettling feeling gnawing at the inside of her stomach, like she’d had something bad to eat. She would have assumed that’s what it was but she opted out of lunch before driving to the house, the sense of appetite lost to her as the thoughts of buying and owning a home with Josh, taking that next big step, overwhelmed her.
Once inside, Josh and the realtor-a short man with only an inch or two over her named Clarence-talked about moldings while she fell behind, staring at framework of the doorway. Clean, comforting, perfect. And when she stepped inside, the word perfect hit her like a train again. The word might as well have been painted all over the walls, it was so goddamned amazing and exactly as she pictured it in her mind.
It wasn’t furnished but she could easily imagine it that way; chairs and couches and end tables of warm colors falling in tune with the walls, a welcome picture for guests. The walls were a melted color that reminded Emilie of a house in Tuscany. It was exactly as she imagined it.
She stood in the house, the world she and Josh shared, just a few feet from the doorway leading outside, to the other world; the world with her friends and her work and her life. She was standing in her dream home with an enthusiastic fiancé-who finally agreed with her on buying a house in Hawaii-and all she could think about was how much she wanted to leave and go learn to surf with Dom.
The entire ordeal was giving her an even more unpleasant feeling. It almost felt like she was splitting right down the middle; one half pleading to buy this fantastic house and marry Josh and live happily ever after while the other screamed and shouted to be let out of this place, to be freed from this four walled prison and be allowed to work all day and laugh and have fun all night. And all she wanted was the pain and the headache to stop, but she didn't know how she could make it.
Or maybe, she reasoned, she already knew how she could stop it but she also knew that it was going to hurt just as much to decide.
Josh appeared in a doorway down the hall and waved at her cheerfully, smile so wide it looked like it hurt. "Em! What are you doing just standing there? Clarence said if we're done down here, we can go check upstairs."
One of the ground rules in any horror film was that running upstairs equaled certain death. There was no way to escape up there unless you were feeling particularly brave and wanted to try your hand at jumping out a window or off the roof. If you were smart, and you wanted to live, then you had to run out the front or back door and get the hell away from whoever was behind you with a razor sharp blade or some other implement that would hurt like hell.
“I don't want to die," she said suddenly.
"Nobody wants to die, but we don't tend to have these thoughts while we're trying be shown round a house." Josh looked at her, a little confused, and then shifted his gaze to the stairs. "Do they look unstable or something? I'll go first if you want."
Emilie shook her head and took a step back towards the door. "No, I don't want you to die either. But if we go upstairs then that's what'll happen. We'll buy our dream house, settle down into our dream relationship, have our dream children and we'll die. I don't want to be in a dream my whole life, Josh. I want to wake up and I want to live."
"I don't get it. Do... do you not want the house? Because you're overreacting just a little bit." He measured out a small amount with his thumb and forefinger to punctuate his point.
“What if…” She didn’t move forward-two feet from the doorway was already two feet too far away-and the way she stayed glued to the spot must’ve triggered something in Josh’s mind that this was no laughing matter, because his entire body seemed to slump as he waited for her to finish. “It’s not the house, Josh.”
“Then what is it?” Despite obviously being afraid of the answer to his question, he still stepped closer, concerned. “You can tell me, Emilie, whatever it is.”
“It’s not the house,” she repeated weakly, nodding to herself. “If anything, if there was a reason for me to stop worrying and stop wanting things and stop not wanting other things, it would be this house, believe me.”
“Baby…” His hand touched hers and she drew it away like it had been burned.
“I’m sorry,” she immediately said and carefully slipped her hand under his to appease him. “I…Josh, I love you, I want you to know that.”
“I do know that, but right now you’re scaring me,” he tilted his head so he could see her better. He swallowed and it was so loud it seemed to echo throughout the entire empty house. His hand was starting to shake a little. Or maybe that was her own hand.
Emilie took in a deep breath and finally said it, “I don’t want to get married, Josh.”
“That’s fine, baby, we can wait, I don’t…” He offered her a sweet smile and brought his free hand to the side of her face, like he’d accidentally upset her. “I don’t want you to feel pressured that we have to get married right now-”
“No, I-that’s not what I’m saying,” Emilie shook her head and placed her hand over his. “I don’t want to marry you, Josh.”
"Is it me?" He swallowed, blinking back what she desperately hoped wasn't what it looked like. "I mean, did I do something wrong?"
"Josh, it's nothing like that okay? I just... I took a step back and I looked, really looked at my life, and I don't want to hurt you by entering into something that I can't be a hundred percent committed to."
"You're ending this right now? Why now? Emilie, I nearly gave up everything to come live out here."
Emilie managed a small smile and slowly pulled her hand back. "And now you don't have to. Who am I to make you drop everything to be with me? That's not fair. It's not fair on you, and it's not fair on me. It's better this way, for both of us."
Josh wasn’t anywhere near smiling. “You…how can you say that it’s fair for this to end? I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t want to give everything up. Because I do, whatever it takes. I want us to be happy.”
“That’s the point, Josh,” Emilie watched as he took a step back, away from her-this woman he hardly knew all of a sudden. “I don’t see myself being happy, not like this.”
“I don’t get how this-it’s coming out of nowhere for me, Emilie, because up until now I was under the impression that we were happy, that you made me happy and that I-” his jaw was set firm as he looked at her in disbelief. “I thought I made you happy.”
“It’s not your fault, Josh. You’re a great, amazing guy and these past two years have been…I don’t regret a single moment of it.”
There was no going back now as Josh continued to step away slowly. There must’ve been a strong sense of conviction in her eyes that he saw, that proved to him she wasn’t just overreacting or having a mood swing. This was how she felt. And it hurt her more than anything to know that she was the one doing this to him.
"So what? It was fun while it lasted?" Josh shook his head, laughing but it held no humor. "I can't even begin to... it's just over? We're finished? Done?"
"Stop it! Please, just stop it. I love you, I always have and I probably always will. But the future…I don’t want this-” she motioned from him to her and to the house, “I don’t want this future and I'm sorry, but what would you rather have me do? Stick around and pretend everything’s perfect and fine? I'm not trying to hurt you! I want you to be happy and I know you won’t be with me.”
Josh continued to back away, not stopping until his back came into contact with the banister. He winced slightly but it was obvious that the only thing he could even focus on was her and what she was telling him. He couldn't understand how she'd been fine earlier and now... now there was just this.
"If you're going to leave, then just do it," he said firmly. "I don't want to hear anymore of this. I can't. Just... just go."
Emilie nodded, even if the thought of leaving him like this was awful enough. "If that's what you want." She turned and walked towards the front door, opening it and feeling a cool breeze wash over her. "I'm sorry," she said, so quiet the wind might have carried it away if she wasn’t so sure he could still hear her. "For everything. I never meant to hurt you like this."
"Well you did, Emilie."
She turned just in time to see him walk up the stairs, each step louder than the last as his anger began to seep through. Emilie shut the door quietly behind her and took a deep breath. There was a wave of emotions coursing through her but she barely had the energy to move let alone sift through them. All she knew was that it was finally over. Maybe tomorrow she'd start her surfing lessons.
---
Maggie was pretty sure this was not what she had pictured herself doing in those first few weeks of shooting Lost. At the beginning it had just been a fleeting thought that Ian was hot and had a cute ass. Maybe in the back of her brain she was listing off the things about him that would make him dateable; hot, cute ass, smart, funny, dorky in a good way... But still, she'd never exactly thought they'd spend some time having casual sex whenever and wherever before they actually sat down to a date. Not that she was complaining. It was just unexpected.
She reached over to steal his drink and taste it; she couldn't remember what the hell it was called, but it was a nice color and she was feeling brave. While in the process of leaning over, her arm brushed his and she felt the usual sparks. Probably ten times worse because they hadn't had sex for like ever, and having to sit opposite him while he was wearing one of those button-up shirts with the first three buttons undone was killing her. If it wasn't such a public place she would enjoy pouncing on him right now.
"So were you gonna ask first, or was stealing it always on your secret agenda?" Ian watched amused as she leaned back into her seat and took his drink with her. "Because for the record, I probably would've said yeah."
"For the record I know you'd probably say yes to a lot of things I asked, so it was pretty pointless."
Ian laughed and reached over, stealing her drink in retaliation. "Oh yeah? Like what?”
"I can't tell you!" She swallowed some of his drink and nodded a little with approval before setting it down. "Not bad. And I can't tell you, because if you knew then you'd make a point of saying no when I asked one of the questions."
"I would not! Why would I do that?"
"Because you're immature," she replied with a grin, stretching one of her legs and ‘accidentally’ brushing her foot against the hem of his trouser leg.
With a grin, Ian raised his eyebrows slightly. "Are you attempting to play footsie with me?"
"Might be." She brushed her foot past his leg again, trying to look as innocent as possible but failing more with every second. "Why, you got a problem with that?"
"No problem. This time, though, you’d better check that Orlando isn't around so you can't give him any more surprises."
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Maggie grinned coquettishly as she watched Ian casually drop a napkin over his lap.
Ian shook his head and tried not to let his eyes roll back when her toes moved so high up his leg she could count the change in hic pockets. “No….no you’re-!”
His voice jumped up a few octaves when Maggie did a little trick with her big toe, surprising him. Thankfully, no one noticed.
“You’re evil,” he practically growled under his breath. “Maybe I should keep you as a secret.”
“Oh? Well you’re a dork so maybe you should stay a secret too,” she shot back, still amused. “It’s funner, I get to do things like this to you and you have to act like nothing’s going on.”
“To be fair, even if everyone in the world knew we’re whatever we are, I’d still...” he took a moment to put his fist against his mouth to suppress a small groan as Maggie continued to torture him. “I’d still have to pretend. Doesn’t matter how famous we are, nobody wants customers making each other com-”
Ian stopped himself just in time as both he and Maggie saw a familiar face approach, the latter slowly removing her foot from Ian’s crotch and the former putting another napkin on his lap.
Foxy stood in all his glory at the end of their table, wide smile on his face as he surveyed his two friends together. "Maggie! Ian! Good to see you guys, how's it going?"
"It's going great, thanks." Maggie smiled at him, keeping him occupied with her while Ian cleared his throat and tried to arrange the napkins a little better without being caught. "So what are you doing here?"
"I'm here with some of the guys, actually. You should've told us you two were gonna hang out tonight! We could've had a big get-together."
Maggie and Ian exchanged a surreptitious glance and then turned their gazes back to Foxy, both putting on smiles as Ian nodded. "Well, this was just kind of unplanned, y’know…”
Holloway appeared somewhere in the distance and Foxy waved him over before turning back to them. "Well how about now? You guys wouldn't mind, would you?"
Maggie and Ian both looked to each other for a brief moment, exchanging a million thoughts in the span of a second or two. But the decision already seemed to be made by the hostess who, with a polite smile, motioned to the empty table beside Maggie and Ian’s, asking if Foxy and his ‘party’ would like to sit there.
“Sounds great,” Foxy thanked her, sitting down at an angle so he was still facing the two. “Next round’s on me, after the day I had.”
“I didn’t know you were working today,” Maggie commented.
Foxy waved it off, “No, Marguerite and I…you kids’ll understand when you get married.”
Again, Maggie and Ian shared a glance before Ian made a joke of it. “Yeah, us kids. We’re too busy sucking on our thumbs and eating with bibs to understand the complexity of relationships.”
Maggie playfully slapped his arm, “You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone that I still sucked my thumb.”
Holloway sat down on Foxy’s other side as Jorge sat across from them. “Don’t listen to Matt, he’s just crabby ‘cause his dentures are bothering him.”
“Hey, guys,” Jorge leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “How do you think Emilie’s doing? I heard about her and Josh.”
“I dunno,” Holloway shook his head. “Poor girl, been a bit quiet all day, from what I saw.”
Maggie took another sip of Ian’s drink. “They just broke up yesterday, it’ll take her a while to…I don’t really know, actually. She’s the one that ended it and it seems like she’s blaming herself a little.”
“Well,” Foxy grabbed the glass of water placed down before him and raised it. “She’ll get through it, we’ll help her.”
Everyone made noises of agreement and raised their glasses.
---
Ian looked down at his watch and disguised a frustrated groan with a cough. He mouthed to Maggie, nine o’clock. They’d been there for an hour and hadn’t even been able to enjoy their date, because Foxy and Holloway were too busy laughing at some story Jorge was telling.
Her foot brushed along his leg again and he smiled to himself. Their eyes met and they finally just dropped all pretenses and smiled-beamed-at each other as they came to an agreement.
Clearing her throat, Maggie reached down beside the leg of her chair for her purse and gave an apologetic look to the three gentlemen sitting a few feet away. “Sorry guys, but I’m pooped.”
They expressed sympathy and she congratulated herself in her head, turning to Ian. “Ride home?”
Ian feigned half-hearted frustration. “I suggested we take two cars but no, you just had to insist.”
“You coming back after you drop her off?” Jorge asked absently, downing the last of his water. “Because being the designated driver with these two is going to be a handful.”
Feeling only a little guilty at having to lie to his friend, who wasn’t feigning frustration with having to deal with a shitfaced Holloway and Foxy at all, Ian gave a noncommittal nod.
After saying their goodbyes and getting their coats, Maggie and Ian made a hasty retreat.
“That was an interesting first date,” Maggie noted as he opened the door to the car for her and she slid into the passenger seat. He ran around the front of the car and hopped in, slamming the door shut and leaning over to give her a quick kiss. She smiled as he pulled away and started the engine. “What was that for?”
“You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted sheepishly. “I wanted to tell you that about a dozen times.”
“Oh,” Maggie brought her hand to her mouth as she grinned like a fool for a moment before leaning over and turning his head to give him a deep kiss, tongue teasing his lips and causing the car to swerve a little.
“Um,” Ian cleared his throat and shook his head a little to get his eyes to focus back on the road. “What…um, whatwasthatfor?”
“I wanted to do that all week,” Maggie said with a proud smile and then, under her breath, “Among other things.”
Ian’s grip tightened on the steering wheel and he pressed a little harder on the gas pedal. When Maggie giggled, he offered a weak excuse. “Just want to beat traffic.”
“Sure,” she said, not believing a word of it.
---
Ian yanked at the strap of her dress, nearly ripping it, as his mouth collided in a bruising kiss. “Emilie home?”
“I was thinking we could do this without her,” Maggie laughed against his lips, practically clawing at his shirt; already knowing that Emilie was going to be late because of a scene with Terry.
“Shut up,” he growled.
“You know, we-” she barely had the willpower to pull Ian away from her neck to look him in the eyes, cheeks flushed bright red and breathing in sharp intakes. “We could have told them about us.”
Ian’s eyes trailed all over her face, studying her for a moment before giving a small nod, “Yeah, we could’ve. But we didn’t.”
His fingers found the hidden zipper at the back of her dress and slowly pulled it down as Maggie tried to keep her eyes from shutting involuntarily at the feeling of cool air along her spine. “I want you to know…I would’ve, if you wanted me to. I would’ve been fine with it.”
“I know,” he smiled sweetly, almost like he was impressed, and kissed the corner of her mouth. “That’s why I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this with, doesn’t matter if it’s a secret as long as it’s with you.”
Maggie’s hands dropped down between them to undo his belt, “So you’re admitting you overreacted before?”
“Before…?” Ian kissed her neck as his pants fell around his ankles. Searching hands snuck under her dress to slip under the fabric of her panties as he spoke against her flushed, sensitive skin. “Sure, fine.”
“Do you even know what ‘before’ I’m referring to?” Maggie grinned into his hair as he slid the fabric down her legs until she kicked them off.
Ian let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head, pulling back just far enough to kiss her chin and look up at her with pleading eyes. “This isn’t really the time to be thinking about anything other than getting naked as quickly as possible.”
His fingers drifted over the inside of thigh and Maggie’s entire body shook at the feeling. She nodded faintly, “You’re…you’re right, talking is-”
“Stupid?”
“Right now it is.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed the collar of his shirt, ripping it open and sending the buttons flying every which way. They both laughed. “Maybe if Emilie finds buttons from your shirt she’ll finally clue in, you think?”
Ian brought his other hand to the side of her face and leaned in to give her a short but scorching kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
TBC…