chapter 10/?
Epico - A Sorta Fairytale: Chapter Ten
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [seemedsobright].
Rating: Hard R / 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 the writer’s would like to thank ALL the readers for…well, reading, of course. And commenting, and making icons and graphics and for epico_squee in general. We love writing this story and we love that you love reading it. *BIG hugs*
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 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Warning! Longest chapter yet. Make sure you've got some time set aside to tackle this beast.
---
Maggie brought her hand to her mouth, gnawing on her nail frantically as she watched Ian and Dom drop a few piles of tabloids onto the counter. "How many is that?"
"We grabbed as many as we could from the corner market to that café you like so much." Dom scratched the back of his head, looking at all of them.
Maggie dropped her hand and looked from Dom to Ian, eyes widening. "What about the rest of the island? The rest of the WORLD?"
"Um..." Ian ducked his head, voice dropping to a quiet whisper, afraid to even say it. "Yeah, they know."
Dom made a face and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to wait out the painful silence. But when Maggie stood frozen, only her eyes moving from Ian to the tabloids, and Ian didn't say another word, he tried to break it. "It's only a few pieces of flimsy paper, Mags. Nobody's going to believe it."
"Dom, there are pictures as proof!" she pointed a finger to the 'flimsy papers,' jaw set firm and eyes burning holes through Dom. "Everyone who reads is going to see all of it when they're standing in line at the grocery store!"
"Well..." he gulped, looking to Ian for support, but found him still looking down at his shoes. Instead he pulled his sleeve up to look at his naked wrist, eyebrows raising dramatically. "Oh, would you look at the time, I've got to be going."
And without another look or even a sparing glance to anyone else in the room, Dom made his exit. He bumped into Emilie on the way, but was far too frantic to vacate the building to offer more than a quick 'How do you do? Good, good. Good to hear.'
Emilie watched him leave in a hurry, brow furrowed in a moment of confusion before returning to her happy adventure into the kitchen, hoping there was a Snapple in the fridge that wasn't already half-empty. She didn't notice the tension in the room right away, too ecstatic to find her drink and begin a new search for some peanut butter and jelly.
The jelly was in the fridge with her drink, she only had the peanut butter left to find. The bread was on the counter where she put the jar and glass, next to a bunch of magazines that Emilie's stomach did somersaults just at the sight. She didn't look at the pictures or the text spread all over it, knowing it was tabloids and a good majority of it had no basis in reality. No point in creating a fuss or even acting like they existed when all they brought was stress on their lives.
Nudging Ian in the side as she passed behind him, she greeted him with a sweet smile; the kind someone gives when they got a full night of sleep instead of getting caught by a group of people with cameras while having sex. "What's up, Ian?"
"Nothing," he murmured, chin still pressing into his chest, hands buried in his pockets and shoes shuffling from side to side nervously. "Hasn't been a good day so far."
"Really? It's barely noon, how could it have gone wrong already?"
Maggie shook her head and grumbled, “Paparazzi,” under her breath, but Emilie didn't hear her. Ian's cheeks were flushed bright red when Emilie poked him again, still curious. "Come on, tell me."
"We kind of ran into a problem last night..." Ian sighed. "Paparazzi, actually. They um...they caught us doing stuff."
"What, making out?" Emilie glanced to the tabloids and laughed. "Oh come on, the entire cast and crew knows about you guys, it wasn't going to be too long till the rest of the world found out. What's the big deal?"
Maggie crossed her arms over her stomach, "We weren't just making out, Em....we were-well, we were..."
Emilie gasped all of a sudden, but her eyes went elsewhere. She'd found the peanut butter. Smiling from ear to ear, she grabbed it and unraveled the top, putting a knife in and sighing happily. She walked over to the other counter, "You guys want a PB&J? Oh, Maggie...sorry, keep going."
"We were having sex. In the car," Maggie finally said. Emilie stopped and looked over her shoulder, eyes widening a little.
"And they caught you?" Ian nodded, Maggie nodded. "In the car? Having sex?"
It wasn't that Maggie was expecting some overdramatic situation, for Emilie--her roommate and, when she was willing to admit it, her best friend--to cry with her and hug her and offer to go kill all the people who took the pictures and even the ones who bought them for the tabloids. She didn't even expect to get a big tub of ice cream. But what she certainly didn't expect was that Emilie would not, no matter what reason, laugh her ass off.
But that's exactly what happened. After a moment of silence, Emilie's lips curled up into a huge smile, reaching from ear-to-ear, and her eyes lit up. She let out a long, amused laugh, nearly doubling over. Maggie's mouth fell open and Ian looked up, surprised.
"What the--?" Maggie walked around the counter and pinched Emilie's arm. "Stop laughing!"
"Ow! What the hell?" Maggie got what she want, Emilie stopped laughing, reaching up to her arm and rubbing the sore spot from Maggie's fingers. She looked to the taller blonde, surprised and hurt. "I can't even laugh? Since when is that a rule?"
"Since your friend gets embarrassed in front of the entire English-speaking world, that's when," Maggie scoffed. "And that's not even the worst part!"
"What's the worse part, then?" Emilie placed her hands on her hips and looked up at her, daring her. "Come on, tell me because I don't know why! Sure, it's embarrassing, but it's the tabloids, people will get over it. You weren't caught smoking pot or abusing animals. You were caught having sex with your hot boyfriend. That's not the worst thing that can happen."
Ian cleared his throat, "Um...hot boyfriend?"
They both rolled their eyes at him.
"The worst thing is that Ian's parents are flying in tonight," Maggie told her at length, voice as quiet as it could get when all she wanted to do was pop Emilie's head like she was a pimple. It didn't help that Emilie thought she was in the right in this argument. "And they're going to see it, there's no avoiding it. They're going to see that since Ian started dating me he's turned into some sex-craved freak who does it in cars in public. They're going to hate me, Emilie."
Stepping around the corner of the counter, Ian walked up to them, hands out of his pockets and reaching for Maggie's waist. He turned her to face him, even if her eyes remained on Emilie, trying to burn holes through her skull. "Mags...that's not--they're not going to hate you."
She blinked, still not looking at him, not even looking at Emilie anymore. Her eyes were watering as she shook her head. "Yeah they will, Ian."
"Oh, come on! Like Emilie said, having sex isn't some awful thing." He brought his hand to the side of her face and gently nudged her until she was looking at him. "They're going to love you. I love you, Maggie. This is going to blow over. It's awful now but if we let it get to us then...well, then we'll just be giving the fucking tabloids what they want."
Maggie shrugged, voice a ghost of a whisper. "I was worried enough about your parents coming and now..."
"Now we'll have an icebreaker," Ian smiled.
She laughed, "Dork."
"So I've heard." He leaned in and kissed her, soft and assuring, telling her a million times over that he loved her with just his lips.
Emilie's nose wrinkled and she cleared her throat pointedly. When they looked at her, she shook her head. "I don't wanna see that."
---
"I'm glad that we've finally had the opportunity to sit down."
Maggie stole a glance at Ian, then turned to his mother with a small, slightly uncomfortable smile. "So am I, Patricia. And Alan Wong's has the best food, I swear. You guys are going to love it."
"I'm sure Patricia and I will," Ian's father, Sam, said with a nod. A waiter arrived to take their orders, giving him the chance to look around the simple and cozy restaurant. Once the maitre'd left, their small talk continued. "So, Maggie, how have you and Ian been holding up with work? It's got to be quite physical, eh?"
Ian coughed awkwardly before Maggie answered. Clearly, he was thinking of a different physical thing that involved the two of them.
"It gets tiring, yeah," Maggie replied, discreetly elbowing Ian, "but it's always fun. Never not fun. Ian always makes sure that everyone has fun and is comfy on set. He's a real sweetheart."
"How long has it been since you two started going out?" Sam asked suddenly, causing Maggie to bite her lip.
"Since September," Ian replied, smiling widely and clasping Maggie's hand with his. "A little over three months now."
"Like I said," she spoke up, summoning courage now that her hand was entwined with Ian's, "he's a complete sweetheart and gentleman. I don't think I know anyone who's doted on me more than this guy right here."
Patricia grinned, raising a hand to pinch one of her son's cheeks. "That's my little Pooh bear... always taking care of others."
As Ian's cheeks burnt a bright crimson, Maggie tried to hide a snort that Sam had quite obviously seen.
"She never got rid of that silly name for him," he commented, in hopes that it would save what little face Ian had left. "Ever since that Halloween back when he was five..."
"Dad please don't start..."
Shaking her head profusely, Maggie quickly cut him off. "No, no... do continue. I think I'd like to hear this." She gave Ian a reassuring look - one that didn't reassure him at all.
"He wanted to be Piglet," Patricia started, only grinning more when Ian buried his face in his hands.
"Tell me when it's over, Mags," he groaned, shaking his head in embarrassment. Maggie, on the other hand, was trying her best not to laugh. Ian. In a Piglet costume. Priceless!
"And I suggested he be that tiger. Or even the donkey," Sam said, continuing the story. "But he really wanted to be that little piglet."
"When we finally went to that costume store, though, all they had left was Winnie the Pooh," Patricia explained. "Ian cried over it for hours. So when Halloween night came, I kept calling him my little Pooh bear so he wouldn't be sad. After all... he looked darling in that little costume of his. I think Pooh suited him better, in the end, anyways."
Sam shook his head. "The name stuck ever since."
Once Maggie was able to fight off the laughs (that she decided to save for later), she put her arm around Ian's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze.
"It's okay, Ian... it's over," she said before turning back to his parents, a smile on her face. "I'm never going to forget tonight, thanks to that."
"Excuse me..."
The four looked up to find the maitre'd holding a basket full of reading material.
"Since your meals are still being prepared, I was wondering if I could interest you in today... excuse me, tonight's paper or some magazines," he said before lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'd choose the newspaper, though. Lord knows what nonsense is written in these tabloids nowadays."
Both Maggie and Ian's eyes went wide at his words, both horrified at the idea of his parents picking up a tabloid with a compromising photo of them on the front, and Sam said no thank you to the maitre'd, who was long gone before either of them snapped back to reality.
"You know..." Patricia said, "... that reminds me."
It was Maggie's turn to bury her face in her hands, not knowing what Patricia was going to say next. Ian downed half a glass of ice water before waiting for either of his parents to continue.
"Patricia's parents caught me and your mom in their bedroom a long time ago," Sam said frankly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Ian's expression of utter shock and disgust was priceless. "Jesus, dad, you've got to be kidding me."
"He isn't, dear... but that's not the point," Patricia added hastily. "This... thing you two have gotten yourselves into... you ought to be more careful. This isn't right -having your personal lives smacked on the front of things millions of people read everyday."
"I... I'm sorry," Maggie muttered, staring at the tablecloth. "We were kinda carefree... weren't we?"
"Careless is more like it," Ian shook his head, obviously disappointed with himself.
Sam dismissed it all with a wave of his hand. "Just make sure I don't have your Aunt Sue callin' me at six in the morning informing me about another incident that landed on another front page, understand?"
Both immediately nodded in agreement.
"Good," he said, nodding, then looking at Ian, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. "Otherwise I'll have to visit more often to knock some sense into you, Pooh bear."
---
When Evi heard the doorbell ring, her heart skipped a beat. Quite literally, almost startling her as she looked over her shoulder to the doorway. Of course he wasn’t there, considering she was all the way upstairs; but she had still half-expected him to be casually leaning against the doorframe with that amazing, humble smile gracing his lips.
The imagery was perfect, so much so that for a moment she forgot where she was and that there was someone-god she hoped it was him-waiting at the front door. But the doorbell rang again after a moment of stunned silence and she grabbed her purse, hopping down the stairs with her shoes in her other hand.
Double-checking her appearance in the mirror on the opposite wall, Evi took in a deep breath before opening the door. Orlando stood in the doorway, the orange glow of the sky framing his body as his hands nervously fumbled with a small bouquet of flowers.
“Hey,” he breathed, instantly lighting up at the sight of her. Wearing a white button-up with a dark jacket over it, he looked distractingly handsome as he held out the flowers and laughed. “I got you…er…lilies.”
Evi could feel her stomach flutter as the light illuminated the small batch of flowers. She took them, her fingers brushing against the inside of his hand which brought on a shared glance between the two of them, and tried to keep her cheeks from blushing a perfect red. “Thank you, that’s so sweet.”
“A little cheesy but…I thought you’d like them,” Orlando explained humbly as he watched her retreat back into the house. She placed the lilies in a nearby vase with other flowers and futzed for a moment until she had herself a beautiful arrangement. “Perfect.”
She looked to him over her shoulder at the sound of his voice and smiled brightly. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He shrugged one shoulder, grinning lopsidedly. “It’s nothing. So, you’re ready to go?”
Unable to help himself, he let his eyes casually glance her over. Without giving away what they were going to do that day, he’d told her to dress casually, and somehow she managed to make a dark red tank top and jeans look amazing. Her hair, loose and wavy, looked invitingly touchable. He knew that would be a difficult temptation to resist all day, and he didn’t dare glance at her lips.
Conscious of his eyes on her, Evi nodded and tugged on her tank top, feeling a hint of self-consciousness until he met her eyes again, giving her that easy smile. “Ready and raring. Just wish I knew where you were taking me.”
“Don’t worry.” Orlando grinned, holding out his hand so he could give hers a reassuring squeeze. They exited the house and Orlando led her to his rental car, opening her door for her before going around to the driver’s side. “You’re in good hands, I promise.”
“I believe it.” They exchanged a glance, both of them unable to stop smiling, before Orlando started the car and pulled out of her driveway.
It was quiet for the first few minutes as they drove out of Evi’s neighborhood. Not necessarily awkward silence, just the kind where neither of them were quite sure what to say.
Finally, though, Orlando cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat. “You look great tonight, Evangeline. Not-not that you don’t always look good, it’s just that you look particularly-”
Suddenly, her hand was resting on his arm. The warmth from her fingers, even through his jacket, was like a bolt of electricity to his nerves, sending his entire body into a frenzy now that they were making contact. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
They shared a small laugh and it took a moment for Evi to realize her hand was still on his arm. She looked up to Orlando, who glanced her way, and all the color rose to her face and ears. Ducking her head, she pulled her hand away and cleared her throat.
“You’re really not going to tell me where you’re taking me?” when she looked up, her eyes were focused on the road ahead, pointedly reminding herself that if Orlando caught her staring at him one more time…well, she wasn’t quite sure if it was possible for her cheeks to be any redder.
“Nope.” Orlando guided the car along a twist in the road smoothly, a wryness in his smile.
“Well, how am I going to help you when you get lost?”
"Pun intended?"
Evi managed a small, playful slap to his arm. “Not that I don’t have any faith in you but you’re still considered a tourist. And tourists are lousy with directions.”
“I’m not basing this all on a printed out set of directions I got off the internet,” Orlando said under his breath.
Quirking an eyebrow, Evi turned to face him, enjoying the way he had on his best innocent face; all wide-eyed and mouth agape, like she was accusing him of something. She knew it was an act because she had yet to say a word.
There was a tiny bit of satisfaction that tickled from deep in her belly to the tips of her fingers when she saw that he was blushing. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Who did you go to?”
“What?” he shook his head, turning onto a dirt road. The sun had set by now so he had his brights on and was treading the path carefully and slowly, as if afraid of missing something. “I-I don’t understand the question.”
Evi watched carefully as he eyed the path ahead of them, following his gaze till she saw what he did when he finally pressed on the brakes and turned off the engine. A little pink bow was tied to an overhanging branch just a few feet away. “Wha…Orlando, what’s going-”
“Just go along with it,” he whispered to her before sliding out of his seat.
Before she could even undo her seatbelt he was already at her door, opening it for her and offering his hand while she got out. He didn’t let go of her hand even after the car was locked and they were walking toward the pink ribbon.
“Hope you’re not averse to a bit of hiking,” Orlando commented, his thumb idly tracing small circles on the back of her hand. “It’s about a half-mile away.”
“What’s about half a mile away?” Evi asked. They started along a winding, uphill path, and the only answer Evi got was a flash of a grin that she could see even in the darkness of the night. “All right, I get it. I won’t ask questions anymore. You just lead the way.”
“God, it’s so gorgeous here,” he murmured, automatically glancing at her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nodding in agreement. “You’re so incredibly lucky to shoot here.
“You act like you’ve never worked somewhere gorgeous,” she said, laughing softly. “Hawaii can’t be all that different from the Caribbean.”
“It is different, though,” he insisted. “In Hawaii… I’m in better company.” They shared a look and he squeezed her hand, chuckling. “I sound quite sappy, don’t I? I'm sorry.”
“It’s a good thing. I’m a sucker for sap,” she smiled.
“That’s good. The success of this entire date hinges on whether you can stand some sappiness.” He peered through the darkness, clearly looking for something, then nodded at another ribbon tied to a bush on the right-hand side of a fork in the path. “We’ve not too far to go, now.”
They continued along the path in comfortable silence, their hands loosely clasped. A few minutes passed, and Evi could hear the sound of rushing water. She shot Orlando a curious look, but he was looking for another marker.
“Ah. There we are.” A yellow ribbon tied to a tree laden with flowers marked the end of their hike. An excited grin spread across Orlando’s face and he pulled her along, quickening their pace until the path curved and they reached their destination.
“Oh,” Evi breathed, stopping to take in what was laid out before her. The running water she’d heard was a stream, and the path had led them to the top of a waterfall.
Along the rocky floor beside the water, a space was cleared for them, a beautiful quilt laid on the ground with two pillows for them to sit on and a big, traditional basket straight out of a movie right in the middle.
“I take it by your expression that you’re either incredibly impressed or I’ve gone way over my head and you hate it,” Orlando tilted his head so she could see him, hesitancy clear in his eyes.
“It’s…” her hand squeezed his and she finally tore her gaze away from it to look at him, smile reaching from ear to ear. “It’s amazing.”
Orlando’s smile was just as big as hers as his eyes lit up, “Really?”
“Really,” she stepped closer, her free hand-without a thought-reached up to sneak under his lapel. When she saw the action, she laughed at herself. “I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”
“Me too,” he spoke in a voice just above a whisper as he looked down at her, the smile fading as it hit both of them just how little space there was between them.
“Evangeline…”
“You can call me Evi, if you want,” she said suddenly, flushed and not looking directly at him, her eyes trailing down his face to focus on the skin exposed just above the collar of his shirt. The sound of the waterfall, of the nature around them, seemed to fade away, if only for a moment.
“Do you want me to call you Evi?”
She thought about it, as much as she could when she was so fascinated with his Adam’s apple. “I actually like it when you say Evangeline so…”
“Evangeline it is.” His breath coasted over her forehead and she shivered. He noticed and disturbed the bubble they were in, his movement snapping Evi back to reality and letting the whole world-and all the noise that came with it-return to her attention.
His jacket was off his back and over her shoulders before she could even figure out what he was doing. “Don’t want you to be cold.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the jacket closer about her shoulders, enjoying the fact that the scent of his cologne lingered on it. “I thought true gentlemen were an extinct breed.”
Orlando smiled, obviously encouraged by the fact that she seemed to approve of the entire setup. He tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the quilt, and guided her to sit on one of the pillows while he knelt in front of the basket.
“Where are they…I told her to put them in here,” he grumbled before his face melted and he saw the candles sticking out on the other side. He held them up dramatically, explaining, “So we can see what we’re eating.”
“Who’s her?”
Orlando snagged his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. “No one.”
Evi gave him a hard look, “Come on, tell me!”
“I promised her I wouldn’t, she’s an…” his face scrunched up adorably as he tried to find the perfect word. “Anonymous volunteer.”
“Seriously?” Evi reached out and tugged on the collar of his shirt so that their faces were an inch apart, speaking in a hushed voice. “Is our entire conversation being recorded? Because I think only FBI agents or criminals use this kind of secrecy.”
Orlando gulped and when he moved, his nose bumped into hers and they both sat back, laughing at themselves. “It was Emilie.”
The image of Emilie trekking through the jungle and tying markers to the trees immediately came to Evi’s mind and it was the funniest thing she’d thought of all day. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he clapped his hands on his legs.
“Did you pay her or something?”
“You know, she doesn’t require money to help out a friend in need.”
Evi raised an accusatory finger and snickered, “Friend?”
Orlando’s brow furrowed, confused, “What?”
“You and Emilie are friends?” Evi was having fun with this. “Do you braid each other’s hair?”
Orlando’s cheeks turned bright red at that, sending Evi over the edge. She doubled over, holding her stomach as she laughed. “It was only when I was asking her for help, it was all in good fun.
“I bet you’d look good with braids. I hope she took pictures.” Evi caught her breath, finally getting her laughter under control while Orlando opened the picnic basket. She pulled his jacket close around herself, watching him pull out a bottle of white Zinfandel and two crystal wine glasses that had been carefully wrapped in paper to ensure they wouldn’t break.
“I conferred with Emilie on your likes and dislikes,” he commented, digging around until he found the wine opener. “So I’m pretty sure you’ll approve of the meal.”
Once the bottle was open he poured them each a glass, holding his up towards her in a toast.
“To our first date,” he murmured, holding her gaze while they both took a sip of wine. “And-hopefully-not our last.”
---
Evi shook her head, still laughing. "I'm sorry, I really am. And I shouldn't be surprised either."
"Why's that?" Orlando's brow furrowed.
"Well, you've said about a million times since I've met you that you like them," she shrugged, still smiling, and held up the Jaffa cake. "I shouldn't be surprised you packed some in here."
"Well, at least I packed a lot of un-funny foods," Orlando motioned to everything they had spread out and nearly-eaten all the way. "Being laughed at on the first date isn't exactly what I planned."
"Technically, though," Evi held her hand up, like she'd come up with a genius idea. "If you laugh along with me, I wouldn't be laughing at you but with you."
Almost immediately, Orlando started laughing. Forced, but not too forced; it was hard not to be amused when Evi sniffed the Jaffa cake questioningly before taking a bite out of it. The expression on her face was the funniest thing he'd ever seen; at first she didn't immediately know what to think of it but then the taste must've exploded on her tongue before her eyebrows shot straight up and she nodded vigorously. "S'good!"
Orlando brushed a piece of it off his shirt and laughed even harder. "Asked for the news, not the weather!"
Hitting his arm, Evi took another bite of the cake and shook her head at him, clearly daring him to make another joke about her eating to see what would happen.
He held his hands up in surrender and chose to stay quiet for a while, watching her without staring, amused by the small little quirks she had more than anything else, really. The way her nose wrinkled involuntarily when she smirked briefly, or how she always wiped her hands with the napkin resting on her leg after every bite. It didn't matter if she didn't get anything on them.
Finishing the Jaffa cake, she licked her lips and brought the napkin to her mouth, wiping away anything that might've stuck. No way was she going to talk to him with chocolate at the corner of her mouth. Knowing Orlando, he'd probably be too sweet to mention it.
"You're staring," she said from behind the napkin, smirking (and nose wrinkling).
“You caught me.” He smiled and shrugged. “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”
He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the way she blushed after that. “Oh, stop,” she said without really meaning it.
“Stop what?” He started gathering their dishes and putting it back in the basket, glancing up to meet her eyes. “Flattering you? Thought that’s what a man’s meant to do when he’s on a date with a lovely woman.”
She laughed. “Oh, I get it. You’re saying that because that’s ‘what a man’s meant to do.’”
Orlando’s eyes widened. “What? No!” Evi laughed harder when he became flustered, fumbling for an explanation. “That’s not it, not at all. I meant it, Evangeline, of course I did. You’re beautiful, I wouldn’t just-”
He stopped short when she put a hand on his arm. “I was teasing you. Calm down.”
Her hand started rubbing his arm softly. He glanced down, then back into her eyes, and smiled embarrassedly. “Well, I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” she said softly, leaning slightly closer to him. Orlando’s eyes darted to her lips for an instant and he subconsciously licked his own. Without even meaning to he started leaning in, his breath caught in his throat and his heart pounding against his chest, and Evi didn’t look away, not even when he was so close he could feel her soft exhale across his cheek. “Orlando, I-”
“Right, yeah.” He pulled back suddenly, breath whooshing out of him while he clenched and unclenched a fist. Focusing his attention on the picnic basket, he frantically rearranged its contents and cleared his throat. “Something to drink? Another Jaffa cake?”
"No thank you," Evi replied, not knowing whether to be flustered or frustrated at what was (or wasn't) happening between them. "I'm good, Orlando."
Still fidgeting with the contents of the basket, he looked up at her. "You sure? 'Cause I swear, Evangeline, these Jaffa cakes are the best I've had in ages. You're missing out--"
Evi's finger pressed against Orlando's lips, shushing him. Wordlessly, she scooted over, moving closer to him, making sure that this time, she kept her eyes locked on his.
"Orlando?" she murmured, deliberately letting her breath coast against his cheek. She watched him react, watched his eyes slowly close and open again, and finding that they'd darkened significantly.
Subconsciously, Orlando licked his lips again, trying to keep his focus on Evi's eyes and not her lips. He was failing, though. Badly. "Y... yeah?"
"Can we just... stop talking for a while?" Evi wasn't sure where she was getting her sudden confidence, but figured that what was happening was what they wanted... what they needed to happen.
Orlando nodded, slowly raising his hand between them. When it was raised to eye level, Evi found that he was holding up a fork. In his other hand, Orlando showed Evi a plate with what seemed to be a homemade dessert. "Stop talking... and start digging into this, love," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. "Made it myself."
"It... it looks amazing."
"Molten Chocolate Cake." Orlando held it up closer just for Evi to take in the scent and the sight of the dark chocolate cake with its ganache sauce. "This is our real dessert, Evangeline. I saved the best for last."
Fighting back a sigh, Evi gave him a sweet smile and took the plate and fork from him, trying to hide her disappointment. It wasn't that she expected them to be rolling around the grass with their hands all over each other....a few moments passed before Evi realized she'd let the image drift a little too long in her mind. Color rose to her cheeks and she smiled even bigger as she took a bite of the cake.
"S'good?" he asked, watching her with a wry smile.
"You have no idea." She let it roll around on her tongue, savoring the taste. She covered her mouth when she realized she'd been talking with it open. "Did your best friend Emilie help you make it?"
Orlando brushed at his nose and laughed, breaking eye contact. "Actually, it was Dom that helped me cook it."
"And by help you, you mean...?"
"He sat on the stool and told me what I was doing wrong the entire time," Orlando admitted.
"Of course," Evi nodded.
He nodded along with her, "Of course."
"What, did you hand out fliers inviting everyone over for a 'Let's impress Evi' party?"
"Well, that depends..." He looked up to her with such an intensity in his eyes it nearly caused Evi to choke. "Is it working?"
Evi purposely took a moment to 'think it over,' delighting in the way he kept his eyes on her, not blinking once. "Mebbe."
"Well then, it was all my idea. Nobody helped, just me," he grinned from ear to ear.
Placing the plate down beside her, Evi wiped her hands on the napkin before tossing it into the basket. "So when you mentioned Emilie earlier you were just talking about....what? Your other personality?"
"I think if I had a female personality I wouldn't quite be as interested in you as I am," Orlando pointed out, then quirked his eyebrow up. "Then again, I'm sure being female doesn't stop a lot of people from liking you. So yeah, Emilie's my other personality. You'll be able to tell the difference, I think, she's quite a bit more violent than I am."
"Thankfully she's not on this date, I don't think I could handle being literally hit on."
Orlando laughed, actually snorting, which caused Evi to join him. "It wouldn't be us without lame jokes."
Evi scoffed as if hurt. "You think that was lame?"
He widened his eyes innocently, "What? Lame? No! Of course not, I said....er, I said it was the funniest thing I've ever heard. Ever. I mean it."
She rolled her eyes. "Wow, how could I not believe you?"
"You'd believe me before Dom or Emilie or any of the others who helped....I mean, any of my other personalities. Right?"
"Oh, of course," Evi nodded. Her hand absently moved to rest on his without her even considering it. If only Orlando didn't react as if she'd put her hand on his crotch, eyes widening and mouth dropping open, it would've stayed natural. But of course, he did, and she pulled away, both of them smiling like idiots.
"Evangeline...?" he said after a moment.
She snagged her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.
"I don't know how many times I've told you this but I'll say it again." He slid his fingers under the hand that had touched his a moment before and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."
“Well,” she breathed, not letting go of his hand after he lowered it. Her cheeks flushed at his compliment and she smiled almost shyly. “You can tell your other personalities that it’s definitely working.”
“They’ll be glad to know their work wasn’t all for nothing.” He smiled and squeezed her fingers. “But nowhere near as glad as me.”
“Seriously, Orlando, everything you’ve done tonight is incredible.” Evi’s smile was bright and full and it gave Orlando a wonderful, heady sensation. Like he was on top of the fucking world. “I’m not just impressed, I’m touched. You really put a lot into this night.”
Orlando, flushed with pleasure that he’d managed to do this right, shrugged and turned his attention to his own cake. “Well, I mean, how could I not? You deserve it.”
If he’d looked up he would have caught her amused, almost mischievous smile. As it was, he was too busy looking down at his dessert and was completely caught off guard when she casually commented, “I hope you didn’t do all this just so you could get in my pants.”
Evi patted his back when he choked, eyes wide with shock. When he was finally able to talk, he exclaimed, “God no, Evangeline! Of course not! I wouldn’t-”
Laughing, Evi squeezed his shoulder. “Relax. You make it too easy for me to tease you. I know that’s not why you did all this, Orlando. I mean it, I’m touched. I’m sorry. I think I hang out with Dom too much.”
“Yeah, that’s not a good idea.” Orlando shook his head, sharing an amused smile with her. “Maybe to reverse the damage he’s done to you… you should hang out with me more often.”
Evi nodded, her smile wide. "Maybe I should," she agreed, setting down her plate and taking his empty one away from him while he continued recovering. She was putting away everything before Orlando had the chance to object, so instead, he silently watched her, noting her little habits while she moved.
"I really think you should," he muttered, louder than he'd wanted, and his eyes went wide again as Evi turned around to look at him. Ducking his head, Orlando scratched the back of his head embarrassedly, biting his lip and trying not to look at Evi, who was holding back a laugh.
Once she was finished, Evi placed a gentle hand on his, smiling more when he didn't react like he did earlier. "Y'know... Orlando, you shouldn't worry," she began, waiting until their eyes locked. "Because I really think I will."
"Good," Orlando grinned, taking hold of Evi's hand. "It'll take a while for me to cleanse you of Dom's influence."
"Well since you'll be here a while anyways, you can take all the time you need cleansing me because--"
Evi froze, covering her eyes with her other hand.
"That came out wrong."
It took a moment for Orlando's thought process to follow. After all, the idea Evi mentioned seemed more than inviting. Just imagining her and taking the time to... what the bloody hell am I thinking?
"Don't... don't worry 'bout it," he said quickly, hoping that she didn't notice how long it took him to react. "I got what you meant, Evangeline."
"Good, good." Evi ran her hand over her face. "I don't want you to think I'm some closet pervert."
"You aren't?" Orlando pretended to sound surprised.
"No!" she protested. "If anyone's a closet pervert, it's Dom and Emilie, who in my opinion he's been rubbing off on a lot lately."
His lips quirked up into an even bigger smile. "Was that supposed to be dirty too? Sorry, I don't speak Pervert very well."
"You know what?" Evi snapped, but couldn't have an ounce of annoyance in her entire body when Orlando quirked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as he waited for what she was going to say. She growled in frustration when she couldn't come up with anything close to a threat.
"What?" He poked her knee. "Come on, you can tell me."
"Nothing, never mind." She waved it off. "I was going to threaten you bodily harm but then I remembered. You're an elf. What kind of bitch beats up an elf?"
"Well, really, if one's a bitch they don't care, but you..." he poked her knee again and laughed when she snatched his finger.”You're not a bitch."
"You're just saying that so I don't break your finger. You know I can, if Dom's told you anything." She gave each word a faux-confident air. "I'm Canadian, we're really violent. We have mobs and gangs and--"
"You were part of these mobs and gangs?" Orlando asked her, playing along with it.
"Of course, I was their Queen."
"I don't believe it," he shook his head, using her grip on his finger to his advantage and pulling her a little closer to him so his hand could move to her waist. She didn't seem to care; in fact, she leaned into his touch. "You're not Emilie, you don't have an ounce of violence in you. If you do, you don't know how to use it."
"It's not like I need a user manual for it," she said, her voice suddenly a weak whisper. They were close and not moving away? How different of them. "I could be tough if I wanted to."
"Oh yeah? Tough, you say?" He was whispering as well, his smile lessening to a sweeter one. His other hand ghosted over her cheek for a moment. "I still don't believe you."
"Well that's your own problem then," she teased.
"Hurt me then. Poke me, pinch me, tickle me into submission, you little Canadian Mobster."
Evi snorted, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as she laughed. "You did not just ask me to tickle you into submission."
"Mmm, I think I did," his lips grazed over the edge of her ear as he took in a breath, the smell of lavender tickling his senses. "Prove me wrong, Evangeline. Do it."
"You asked for it," she breathed against his neck, hands quickly grabbing at his sides.
He reacted immediately, almost shocked. Apparently he was a little more bark than bite, but it didn't mean he didn't enjoy pulling Evi on top of him as he fell back onto the ground; pushing her away and pulling her back at the same time. "Jesus, you really are a mobster!"
"I really, really am," she giggled, tickling him mercilessly.
"You..." he couldn't stop laughing. "You know I could---I could get out of this any...dear lord not there! Any second!"
She was grabbing at his chest, his actual nipple for god's sake, and he couldn't get away from her. Not that he wanted to. "Are you trying to take away my nipple, love?"
"Maybe." She was bright red with laughter, his hands were frantically grabbing his wrists and trying to pull her hands away but not too far away. It was hard not to notice that while the tickling he was trying to get away from, it was her he wanted to keep close. "You know you like it."
"Uncle, uncle!" he gasped, head resting against the pillow he'd been sitting on a few moments ago. She finally let up and he was given more than a second to catch his breath. His hands dropped down to her legs, which were around his waist he'd just noticed. Orlando cursed himself in his head; she was straddling him. On the first date. Dear lord, what did he do in a previous life to deserve this?
"Now you can tell all your friends you were beat up by a tiny little girl," she whispered.
"No, when I tell them I'm going to say I was beaten by a Canadian Mobster," Orlando laughed. "And I wouldn't be lying!"
“Is your nipple okay?” she asked, smirking, and made no moves to get off of him yet.
He snorted. “The nipple’s fine, I think. I’ll live.”
“That’s good to hear.” She put her hands on top of his, which were resting on her upper thighs. “And maybe next time you’ll believe me when I tell you something.”
“While we’re on the subject, is there anything else I should know about you?” Orlando teased. “Any skeletons in your closet you’d like to reveal?”
Evi scoffed. “As if I’d tell you about those on the first date!” They both laughed and she lifted his hands off her legs so she could get off of him, much to his disappointment. Stifling a sigh, he sat up and Evi brushed the grass off his back for him.
“Just look at those stars,” he murmured, glancing up. Evi leaned against his shoulder, nodding in agreement as she looked up, and he decided that he wasn’t going to move for the rest of the night, not as long as she stayed that close to him.
---
“-and we were up until eleven last night packing the picnic basket and making sure everything was perfect.” Orlando continued a story he’d been telling as the car came to a stop in front of Evi’s house. He got out quickly, opening her door for her. “Emilie’s kitchen was a mess by the end of it, and Maggie kept coming in to try to steal food. Emilie was chasing her around the house with a wooden spoon. I honestly feared for her life.”
“That’s Maggie and Emilie for you,” Evi laughed, slipping her hand in his while they made their way up the pathway to her house. “If they didn’t love each other, they’d have killed each other long ago. Emilie seems to have that kind of relationship with a lot of people."
“I can believe it,” Orlando nodded. They’d reached her front door then, and Evi pulled her house key out of her pocket. “So what’s the verdict? Did I exceed your sappy quota, or was I on target?”
She smiled, meeting his eyes while her hands toyed with her key. “You had the perfect level of cheesiness. It went very well with the wine.”
“I’m glad,” he laughed. “I had a brilliant time, Evangeline.”
“So did I. Everything was… incredible,” she breathed out. “Thank you so much, Orlando.”
He waved it off, shaking his head. “You deserve it, Evangeline. I wanted tonight to be… you know. Special.”
The blush that spread across his cheeks was adorable, and Evi reached up with one hand to brush her fingertips against his cheekbone.
“You’re approaching the limit,” she teased. Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his cheek and murmured in his ear, “Tonight was fantastic. Thank you.”
She pulled back just slightly, enough that he could look her in the eyes. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, but neither of them made any move to move away.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said softly. “Does that mean you’d be interested in trying it again sometime?”
“I think I’d be very interested in that,” she nodded.
They both paused, Evi drawing her lower lip between her teeth and Orlando hesitating before he put one hand on the small of her back, the other resting on her waist. Evi looked up, meeting his eyes, and he leaned in slowly to press his lips tentatively against hers. When he felt her respond, her mouth moving against his and her arms encircling his neck to draw him closer, he deepened the kiss, pressing her back against the front door.
Their first kiss had been desperate, needy, fast. Orlando made a point to take this one slower, taking his time to memorize the feel of having her body pressed against his. Her hands played with the hair at the name of his neck, the light touch sending shivers down his spine. Subconsciously his hand began rubbing her back in small circles, moving lower until he slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt.
Right when he began to appreciate how warm her skin was against his touch, an annoying little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, This is only the first date.
Evi nibbled lightly on his lower lip, following that with a swipe of her tongue, and that nagging conscience was easily pushed out of the way.
A second later, though, it grew louder. You don’t want her to think, not for a second, that this is just going to be a one-night stand or some kind of rebound.
And goddamnit, that was only too true.
So with great difficulty and extreme reluctance, Orlando pulled away before his hormones took over his brain completely and he started pulling off any clothes right there on Evi’s front porch.
“Evangeline,” he whispered, pulling his hand from beneath her shirt while they both panted, trying to catch their breath. He whispered her name again, filled with longing but equally wary of taking this night too far and ruining their chances at having anything long-term.
She looked at him, eyes wide and trusting, and he lifted both hands to cup her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he murmured. “Please, please don’t take this the wrong way. You’re amazing, and everything we’ve done tonight has been amazing. I want to leave it that way. I don’t want to rush into anything, d’you know what I mean?”
Evi nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, leaning in to press a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. “You have no idea how hard it is to walk away from you right now. But I want to take things slow, if that’s alright. I mean, you’ve already seen me as a lecherous drunk.” She laughed, the breath she’d been holding rushing out of her suddenly. He smiled, eyes crinkling, and kissed her forehead. “I want to prove that I can be a gentleman.”
“You’re right,” she nodded, breathing carefully. She put her arms around him for a moment, leaning her cheek on his shoulder while they hugged. “Goodnight, Orlando. Thank you for everything.”
“It was my pleasure. Goodnight, Evangeline. Sweet dreams.” He kissed her once more, keeping it short before he lost control again, and finally let go. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Promise. We have to get to work on cleansing you of Dom’s influence, right?”
“I can’t wait,” Evi grinned.
---
“Haven’t been to the theatre in quite some time,” Dom played with the collar of his shirt, feigning arrogance. “I’m sure all the women will be throwing their panties at me when I arrive.”
“With your luck, it’ll be elderly women,” Ian grinned. “And they won’t be throwing panties so much as throwing diapers.”
“That’s a cruel, cruel thing to say, mate,” Dom pointed a warning finger at him. “Not all the elderly wear diapers.”
“And you would know, of course…” Ian joked.
Ignoring the last comment, Dom reached over to the table to grab the Fandango-Evi refused to stand in line, Fandango was ‘easily the more efficient way to go’-printout to check what movie they were seeing again.
This was a rare occasion, all of them going to a movie, considering the last few weeks. With the exception of the birthday party and the surfing lesson-the only one, Dom reminded himself forlornly-Emilie had been rather anti-social as of late. Nobody really bothered to guess because the answer was clear.
Dom was really the only one who didn’t get why Emilie was still beating herself up over the breakup with Josh. She wasn’t the one who got her heart broken, he was. She should be bounding up and down the streets, happy as a kitty hopped up on catnip, and enjoying life now that she was free. She had friends who cared for her, she had Dom. Why wasn’t that enough?
“Em not ready yet?” he asked with passable casualness, lounging on the loveseat and sparing one, two, a dozen glances to the staircase.
“I checked an hour ago, she was just getting out of the shower. She seemed like she wanted to go…” Maggie couldn’t help looking sad as she talked about her friend.
Ian checked his watch, “It’s just a movie. Nothing too drastic. Small steps, right?”
“You talk about her like she’s some recovering drug addict who you’re letting back out into the world!” Dom shook his head, sitting up a little more when he heard movement, only to see Orlando and Evi walking out from the kitchen, looking as smitten as ever. He rolled his eyes. “Get a room, you two.”
Evi threw a Cheeto at him. He caught it in his mouth.
“Good doggy,” she teased, sitting down with Orlando opposite of Dom. Like everyone else, she looked upstairs. “You think maybe one of us should-”
“I’ll do it,” Dom volunteered, beaming. It wasn’t lost (pun not intended) on anyone the fact that he quite literally jumped at the chance of seeing Emilie’s room.
After bounding up the stairs, he gave her door a quick and happy rap-rap-rappity-rap. Silence followed and he knocked again. A minute passed and nobody answered.
Carefully turning the doorknob, his free hand just over his eyes in case he was walking in on Emilie in nothing but her jammies-which the majority of his mind and the rest of his body hoped was nothing at all-he stepped into the room.
Emilie sat on the edge of her bed, focused on something small and shiny in her hands. It didn’t take him more than second to figure out what it was.
“You going to make a stop at the pawn shop and get some pocket change?” he joked weakly. She didn’t even bother to respond or even acknowledge he was in the room.
When she did speak, it was more to herself than anything. “I was looking for a hair tie again. I need to figure out where I put those because I looked in the drawer and…”
Closing the door behind him and moving a few steps closer, Dom didn’t dare to say a word yet.
“I convinced myself that I forgot about this,” her thumb traced the silver band. “That it wasn’t on my mind all the time. That he wasn’t-”
She sucked in a breath and shook her head, frustrated with herself. “But here it is, still in my drawer and I…I can’t-”
Again, she took a pregnant pause, finally looking away, down at her feet or something less important on the ground. But it didn’t take long before her eyes were on the ring again. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen him. I should’ve…there were a lot of things I should’ve said to him before I…”
“Em, it’s normal that you haven’t quite…” Dom approached the topic carefully, playing with the ring on his pinky as he watched her pay such attention to the ring in her hands. “If you ask me, I’m sure Josh is falling apart without you-”
“Dom, don’t,” she warned, surprisingly firm. She stared at him with fiery eyes. “That’s the last thing I want to hear right now.”
“Sorry.” It came immediately and he meant it. The last thing he wanted to hear was anger in her voice; especially when it was anger directed towards him. This was exactly the kind of thing he just didn’t get; he wanted to, he really did, but he didn’t understand why it was so hard for her to move on from Josh. That Yank wasn’t good enough for her, couldn’t she see that? “I’m just a little-”
“It’s hard for me, Dom,” she again looked down at her hands, eyes brimming with tears. “It’s hard for me to just let go.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He sat down next to her, ignoring the glance she gave when she noticed just how close he was to her now. “Don’t listen to me. I’m a ponce, remember?”
She gave him a teary smile. “Kind of hard to forget.”
“There’s nothing wrong with forgetting or not forgetting, but…” he shook his head. “I dunno, you can remember how much you loved him and still move on. Don’t ever let anyone keep you from going on with your life.”
“I know I shouldn’t but…I’ve just been burying myself in work so much lately,” she ran her hands over her face. “As much as I loved Lost before I just couldn’t wait to get that baby bump off my back and go out, you know? Now…Now I’m just working, working, working and then going home to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Dom ducked his head. “I’ve noticed.”
A moment of silence passed and when Dom looked from his lap to her face, he saw her bottom lip quivering. His heart sank at the sight. “Emilie…”
“No, it’s nothing,” she lied, voice thick with emotion. Her hand gave a dismissive wave but Dom paid it no heed. When she saw him still looking at her from the corner of her eye, she cleared her throat and shot for a firmer tone. “Really, I’m fine. We should-we should get going.”
Dom stopped her from getting up and she didn’t put up too much of a fight. He sighed; an Emilie who shied away from the opportunity of violence? “You’re not fine.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel, Dom,” she covered her face for a moment, trying to collect herself. “It’s just my back; the fucking baby bump does a number on it.”
“Alright. Here, just let me…” she reacted to his hand moving close to her and he didn’t bother to hide his disappointment at that. “M’not going to hurt you, Emilie.”
It said it all in her eyes: she believed him. Rasping an apology, she relaxed against his hand as it touched the spot where her spine met her head. Almost immediately, she leaned against his fingers.
Dom rubbed her back gently; up and down, up and down, his warm hand against her cotton tee, he could feel some tension disappear. His eyes were locked on her face, watching as her eyes slid shut in reaction to his ministrations, the hard lines melting and her expression becoming softer with each passing second.
“Better?” he could hardly manage a strong enough voice to ask, still watching her with rapt attention.
She nodded, eyes still shut. He was sure she was feeling better, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
God, all he wanted was to make her feel better. He was sure he would do anything-big or small-to accomplish it but even sitting next to her, giving her back a small rub, felt futile…pointless. There were a lot of better ways he could go about cheering her up, letting her know she was beautiful and amazing and funny and loved.
“Mmm,” she hummed, head rolling forward
“I want you to know,” he said suddenly, voice barely audible. “I’ll always be here for you, alright? Don’t want you thinking that I’ll leave you because I won’t. Not ever.”
When Emilie opened her eyes, they met his immediately without a second of searching. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips-absently, Dom was sure, but it still didn’t help the situation-and he swallowed. The room was quiet so the sound seemed louder, as if he were in some cartoon. If he was, his tongue would have been by his feet and hearts would’ve been in his eyes by now. Maybe a little thought bubble above his head with the image of him and top of her, ripping each other’s clothes off…
Emilie’s hand touched his leg and every single fucking thought in his head shot out immediately. He didn’t dare to glance down-to look away from her-but he knew that her hand wasn’t there by accident. Or if it was, the possibility small, she was aware of it and still not moving it away.
Their faces were just inches apart, Dom noticed. How’d they suddenly get so close to each other?
She wasn’t moving away yet. He could see her cheeks tingeing pink and could feel her breath on his lips, quick and shallow; impatient. He licked his lips, this time with purpose. She still wasn’t moving away. Her hand on his leg tightened for a second when he moved closer.
But she still wasn’t moving away. And Dom could feel his heart in his throat.
A knock came at the door, followed by Maggie’s voice. “You okay in there, Emilie?”
Emilie pulled away at the noise and Dom growled, “Fuck it all!”
He said it before he could stop himself and immediately shut his mouth to prevent the words from rolling off his tongue but was too late, making himself look even more like a bumbling idiot. Emilie looked at him with a quirked eyebrow for a moment, realizing what had almost just happened, and her lips curled up.
Dom smiled too, it was hard not to, as he slumped forward in defeat. His forehead rested against her chin as they both fell into a fit of laughter. Nothing too drastic, just some chuckles and giggles under their breath. And when Dom finally pulled away, he saw she was still smiling, bigger than before. He was happy to see that she was happy. Or at least getting there.
Maggie poked her head in the door a moment later, mouth open and ready to comfort her friend. But when she saw the two of them, her mind jumped to a certain conclusion; she smiled and apologized in the way that clearly said ‘I’m sorry for preventing you from jumping each other’s bones’ and moved to leave.
“Wait, Maggie,” Emilie called after her. “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, talking.” Dom ran his hands over his face and scooted an inch or two away from her. “Talking is what we were doing.”
“Well, are you done talking or should I come back in…what? Ten minutes?” She gave Dom a once over. “Maybe five?”
“Oi!”
Emilie, still smiling, gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze and slid off the bed. “No, we’re ready now. Just give me a minute to find my shoes.”
“Alright…” Maggie glared at both of them as she shut the door. From the other side, they could hear her muffled voice: “Be safe.”
Dom stood up and clapped his hands together, “It wouldn’t be a visit to your house if I didn’t embarrass myself, now would it?”
He watched her slip into the nearest pair of flip flops and approach the bedside table. She opened the drawer, empty save for a piece of scratch paper, a pen and a box that looked like it was supposed to hold a ring. Giving said ring one last look; she gently placed it inside the box and closed the drawer, letting out a long sigh.
“You ready?” he asked after her.
She turned to him and gave a faint nod. “Almost.”
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [seemedsobright].
Rating: Hard R / 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 the writer’s would like to thank ALL the readers for…well, reading, of course. And commenting, and making icons and graphics and for epico_squee in general. We love writing this story and we love that you love reading it. *BIG hugs*
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 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Warning! Longest chapter yet. Make sure you've got some time set aside to tackle this beast.
---
Maggie brought her hand to her mouth, gnawing on her nail frantically as she watched Ian and Dom drop a few piles of tabloids onto the counter. "How many is that?"
"We grabbed as many as we could from the corner market to that café you like so much." Dom scratched the back of his head, looking at all of them.
Maggie dropped her hand and looked from Dom to Ian, eyes widening. "What about the rest of the island? The rest of the WORLD?"
"Um..." Ian ducked his head, voice dropping to a quiet whisper, afraid to even say it. "Yeah, they know."
Dom made a face and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to wait out the painful silence. But when Maggie stood frozen, only her eyes moving from Ian to the tabloids, and Ian didn't say another word, he tried to break it. "It's only a few pieces of flimsy paper, Mags. Nobody's going to believe it."
"Dom, there are pictures as proof!" she pointed a finger to the 'flimsy papers,' jaw set firm and eyes burning holes through Dom. "Everyone who reads is going to see all of it when they're standing in line at the grocery store!"
"Well..." he gulped, looking to Ian for support, but found him still looking down at his shoes. Instead he pulled his sleeve up to look at his naked wrist, eyebrows raising dramatically. "Oh, would you look at the time, I've got to be going."
And without another look or even a sparing glance to anyone else in the room, Dom made his exit. He bumped into Emilie on the way, but was far too frantic to vacate the building to offer more than a quick 'How do you do? Good, good. Good to hear.'
Emilie watched him leave in a hurry, brow furrowed in a moment of confusion before returning to her happy adventure into the kitchen, hoping there was a Snapple in the fridge that wasn't already half-empty. She didn't notice the tension in the room right away, too ecstatic to find her drink and begin a new search for some peanut butter and jelly.
The jelly was in the fridge with her drink, she only had the peanut butter left to find. The bread was on the counter where she put the jar and glass, next to a bunch of magazines that Emilie's stomach did somersaults just at the sight. She didn't look at the pictures or the text spread all over it, knowing it was tabloids and a good majority of it had no basis in reality. No point in creating a fuss or even acting like they existed when all they brought was stress on their lives.
Nudging Ian in the side as she passed behind him, she greeted him with a sweet smile; the kind someone gives when they got a full night of sleep instead of getting caught by a group of people with cameras while having sex. "What's up, Ian?"
"Nothing," he murmured, chin still pressing into his chest, hands buried in his pockets and shoes shuffling from side to side nervously. "Hasn't been a good day so far."
"Really? It's barely noon, how could it have gone wrong already?"
Maggie shook her head and grumbled, “Paparazzi,” under her breath, but Emilie didn't hear her. Ian's cheeks were flushed bright red when Emilie poked him again, still curious. "Come on, tell me."
"We kind of ran into a problem last night..." Ian sighed. "Paparazzi, actually. They um...they caught us doing stuff."
"What, making out?" Emilie glanced to the tabloids and laughed. "Oh come on, the entire cast and crew knows about you guys, it wasn't going to be too long till the rest of the world found out. What's the big deal?"
Maggie crossed her arms over her stomach, "We weren't just making out, Em....we were-well, we were..."
Emilie gasped all of a sudden, but her eyes went elsewhere. She'd found the peanut butter. Smiling from ear to ear, she grabbed it and unraveled the top, putting a knife in and sighing happily. She walked over to the other counter, "You guys want a PB&J? Oh, Maggie...sorry, keep going."
"We were having sex. In the car," Maggie finally said. Emilie stopped and looked over her shoulder, eyes widening a little.
"And they caught you?" Ian nodded, Maggie nodded. "In the car? Having sex?"
It wasn't that Maggie was expecting some overdramatic situation, for Emilie--her roommate and, when she was willing to admit it, her best friend--to cry with her and hug her and offer to go kill all the people who took the pictures and even the ones who bought them for the tabloids. She didn't even expect to get a big tub of ice cream. But what she certainly didn't expect was that Emilie would not, no matter what reason, laugh her ass off.
But that's exactly what happened. After a moment of silence, Emilie's lips curled up into a huge smile, reaching from ear-to-ear, and her eyes lit up. She let out a long, amused laugh, nearly doubling over. Maggie's mouth fell open and Ian looked up, surprised.
"What the--?" Maggie walked around the counter and pinched Emilie's arm. "Stop laughing!"
"Ow! What the hell?" Maggie got what she want, Emilie stopped laughing, reaching up to her arm and rubbing the sore spot from Maggie's fingers. She looked to the taller blonde, surprised and hurt. "I can't even laugh? Since when is that a rule?"
"Since your friend gets embarrassed in front of the entire English-speaking world, that's when," Maggie scoffed. "And that's not even the worst part!"
"What's the worse part, then?" Emilie placed her hands on her hips and looked up at her, daring her. "Come on, tell me because I don't know why! Sure, it's embarrassing, but it's the tabloids, people will get over it. You weren't caught smoking pot or abusing animals. You were caught having sex with your hot boyfriend. That's not the worst thing that can happen."
Ian cleared his throat, "Um...hot boyfriend?"
They both rolled their eyes at him.
"The worst thing is that Ian's parents are flying in tonight," Maggie told her at length, voice as quiet as it could get when all she wanted to do was pop Emilie's head like she was a pimple. It didn't help that Emilie thought she was in the right in this argument. "And they're going to see it, there's no avoiding it. They're going to see that since Ian started dating me he's turned into some sex-craved freak who does it in cars in public. They're going to hate me, Emilie."
Stepping around the corner of the counter, Ian walked up to them, hands out of his pockets and reaching for Maggie's waist. He turned her to face him, even if her eyes remained on Emilie, trying to burn holes through her skull. "Mags...that's not--they're not going to hate you."
She blinked, still not looking at him, not even looking at Emilie anymore. Her eyes were watering as she shook her head. "Yeah they will, Ian."
"Oh, come on! Like Emilie said, having sex isn't some awful thing." He brought his hand to the side of her face and gently nudged her until she was looking at him. "They're going to love you. I love you, Maggie. This is going to blow over. It's awful now but if we let it get to us then...well, then we'll just be giving the fucking tabloids what they want."
Maggie shrugged, voice a ghost of a whisper. "I was worried enough about your parents coming and now..."
"Now we'll have an icebreaker," Ian smiled.
She laughed, "Dork."
"So I've heard." He leaned in and kissed her, soft and assuring, telling her a million times over that he loved her with just his lips.
Emilie's nose wrinkled and she cleared her throat pointedly. When they looked at her, she shook her head. "I don't wanna see that."
---
"I'm glad that we've finally had the opportunity to sit down."
Maggie stole a glance at Ian, then turned to his mother with a small, slightly uncomfortable smile. "So am I, Patricia. And Alan Wong's has the best food, I swear. You guys are going to love it."
"I'm sure Patricia and I will," Ian's father, Sam, said with a nod. A waiter arrived to take their orders, giving him the chance to look around the simple and cozy restaurant. Once the maitre'd left, their small talk continued. "So, Maggie, how have you and Ian been holding up with work? It's got to be quite physical, eh?"
Ian coughed awkwardly before Maggie answered. Clearly, he was thinking of a different physical thing that involved the two of them.
"It gets tiring, yeah," Maggie replied, discreetly elbowing Ian, "but it's always fun. Never not fun. Ian always makes sure that everyone has fun and is comfy on set. He's a real sweetheart."
"How long has it been since you two started going out?" Sam asked suddenly, causing Maggie to bite her lip.
"Since September," Ian replied, smiling widely and clasping Maggie's hand with his. "A little over three months now."
"Like I said," she spoke up, summoning courage now that her hand was entwined with Ian's, "he's a complete sweetheart and gentleman. I don't think I know anyone who's doted on me more than this guy right here."
Patricia grinned, raising a hand to pinch one of her son's cheeks. "That's my little Pooh bear... always taking care of others."
As Ian's cheeks burnt a bright crimson, Maggie tried to hide a snort that Sam had quite obviously seen.
"She never got rid of that silly name for him," he commented, in hopes that it would save what little face Ian had left. "Ever since that Halloween back when he was five..."
"Dad please don't start..."
Shaking her head profusely, Maggie quickly cut him off. "No, no... do continue. I think I'd like to hear this." She gave Ian a reassuring look - one that didn't reassure him at all.
"He wanted to be Piglet," Patricia started, only grinning more when Ian buried his face in his hands.
"Tell me when it's over, Mags," he groaned, shaking his head in embarrassment. Maggie, on the other hand, was trying her best not to laugh. Ian. In a Piglet costume. Priceless!
"And I suggested he be that tiger. Or even the donkey," Sam said, continuing the story. "But he really wanted to be that little piglet."
"When we finally went to that costume store, though, all they had left was Winnie the Pooh," Patricia explained. "Ian cried over it for hours. So when Halloween night came, I kept calling him my little Pooh bear so he wouldn't be sad. After all... he looked darling in that little costume of his. I think Pooh suited him better, in the end, anyways."
Sam shook his head. "The name stuck ever since."
Once Maggie was able to fight off the laughs (that she decided to save for later), she put her arm around Ian's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze.
"It's okay, Ian... it's over," she said before turning back to his parents, a smile on her face. "I'm never going to forget tonight, thanks to that."
"Excuse me..."
The four looked up to find the maitre'd holding a basket full of reading material.
"Since your meals are still being prepared, I was wondering if I could interest you in today... excuse me, tonight's paper or some magazines," he said before lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'd choose the newspaper, though. Lord knows what nonsense is written in these tabloids nowadays."
Both Maggie and Ian's eyes went wide at his words, both horrified at the idea of his parents picking up a tabloid with a compromising photo of them on the front, and Sam said no thank you to the maitre'd, who was long gone before either of them snapped back to reality.
"You know..." Patricia said, "... that reminds me."
It was Maggie's turn to bury her face in her hands, not knowing what Patricia was going to say next. Ian downed half a glass of ice water before waiting for either of his parents to continue.
"Patricia's parents caught me and your mom in their bedroom a long time ago," Sam said frankly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Ian's expression of utter shock and disgust was priceless. "Jesus, dad, you've got to be kidding me."
"He isn't, dear... but that's not the point," Patricia added hastily. "This... thing you two have gotten yourselves into... you ought to be more careful. This isn't right -having your personal lives smacked on the front of things millions of people read everyday."
"I... I'm sorry," Maggie muttered, staring at the tablecloth. "We were kinda carefree... weren't we?"
"Careless is more like it," Ian shook his head, obviously disappointed with himself.
Sam dismissed it all with a wave of his hand. "Just make sure I don't have your Aunt Sue callin' me at six in the morning informing me about another incident that landed on another front page, understand?"
Both immediately nodded in agreement.
"Good," he said, nodding, then looking at Ian, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. "Otherwise I'll have to visit more often to knock some sense into you, Pooh bear."
---
When Evi heard the doorbell ring, her heart skipped a beat. Quite literally, almost startling her as she looked over her shoulder to the doorway. Of course he wasn’t there, considering she was all the way upstairs; but she had still half-expected him to be casually leaning against the doorframe with that amazing, humble smile gracing his lips.
The imagery was perfect, so much so that for a moment she forgot where she was and that there was someone-god she hoped it was him-waiting at the front door. But the doorbell rang again after a moment of stunned silence and she grabbed her purse, hopping down the stairs with her shoes in her other hand.
Double-checking her appearance in the mirror on the opposite wall, Evi took in a deep breath before opening the door. Orlando stood in the doorway, the orange glow of the sky framing his body as his hands nervously fumbled with a small bouquet of flowers.
“Hey,” he breathed, instantly lighting up at the sight of her. Wearing a white button-up with a dark jacket over it, he looked distractingly handsome as he held out the flowers and laughed. “I got you…er…lilies.”
Evi could feel her stomach flutter as the light illuminated the small batch of flowers. She took them, her fingers brushing against the inside of his hand which brought on a shared glance between the two of them, and tried to keep her cheeks from blushing a perfect red. “Thank you, that’s so sweet.”
“A little cheesy but…I thought you’d like them,” Orlando explained humbly as he watched her retreat back into the house. She placed the lilies in a nearby vase with other flowers and futzed for a moment until she had herself a beautiful arrangement. “Perfect.”
She looked to him over her shoulder at the sound of his voice and smiled brightly. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He shrugged one shoulder, grinning lopsidedly. “It’s nothing. So, you’re ready to go?”
Unable to help himself, he let his eyes casually glance her over. Without giving away what they were going to do that day, he’d told her to dress casually, and somehow she managed to make a dark red tank top and jeans look amazing. Her hair, loose and wavy, looked invitingly touchable. He knew that would be a difficult temptation to resist all day, and he didn’t dare glance at her lips.
Conscious of his eyes on her, Evi nodded and tugged on her tank top, feeling a hint of self-consciousness until he met her eyes again, giving her that easy smile. “Ready and raring. Just wish I knew where you were taking me.”
“Don’t worry.” Orlando grinned, holding out his hand so he could give hers a reassuring squeeze. They exited the house and Orlando led her to his rental car, opening her door for her before going around to the driver’s side. “You’re in good hands, I promise.”
“I believe it.” They exchanged a glance, both of them unable to stop smiling, before Orlando started the car and pulled out of her driveway.
It was quiet for the first few minutes as they drove out of Evi’s neighborhood. Not necessarily awkward silence, just the kind where neither of them were quite sure what to say.
Finally, though, Orlando cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat. “You look great tonight, Evangeline. Not-not that you don’t always look good, it’s just that you look particularly-”
Suddenly, her hand was resting on his arm. The warmth from her fingers, even through his jacket, was like a bolt of electricity to his nerves, sending his entire body into a frenzy now that they were making contact. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
They shared a small laugh and it took a moment for Evi to realize her hand was still on his arm. She looked up to Orlando, who glanced her way, and all the color rose to her face and ears. Ducking her head, she pulled her hand away and cleared her throat.
“You’re really not going to tell me where you’re taking me?” when she looked up, her eyes were focused on the road ahead, pointedly reminding herself that if Orlando caught her staring at him one more time…well, she wasn’t quite sure if it was possible for her cheeks to be any redder.
“Nope.” Orlando guided the car along a twist in the road smoothly, a wryness in his smile.
“Well, how am I going to help you when you get lost?”
"Pun intended?"
Evi managed a small, playful slap to his arm. “Not that I don’t have any faith in you but you’re still considered a tourist. And tourists are lousy with directions.”
“I’m not basing this all on a printed out set of directions I got off the internet,” Orlando said under his breath.
Quirking an eyebrow, Evi turned to face him, enjoying the way he had on his best innocent face; all wide-eyed and mouth agape, like she was accusing him of something. She knew it was an act because she had yet to say a word.
There was a tiny bit of satisfaction that tickled from deep in her belly to the tips of her fingers when she saw that he was blushing. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Who did you go to?”
“What?” he shook his head, turning onto a dirt road. The sun had set by now so he had his brights on and was treading the path carefully and slowly, as if afraid of missing something. “I-I don’t understand the question.”
Evi watched carefully as he eyed the path ahead of them, following his gaze till she saw what he did when he finally pressed on the brakes and turned off the engine. A little pink bow was tied to an overhanging branch just a few feet away. “Wha…Orlando, what’s going-”
“Just go along with it,” he whispered to her before sliding out of his seat.
Before she could even undo her seatbelt he was already at her door, opening it for her and offering his hand while she got out. He didn’t let go of her hand even after the car was locked and they were walking toward the pink ribbon.
“Hope you’re not averse to a bit of hiking,” Orlando commented, his thumb idly tracing small circles on the back of her hand. “It’s about a half-mile away.”
“What’s about half a mile away?” Evi asked. They started along a winding, uphill path, and the only answer Evi got was a flash of a grin that she could see even in the darkness of the night. “All right, I get it. I won’t ask questions anymore. You just lead the way.”
“God, it’s so gorgeous here,” he murmured, automatically glancing at her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nodding in agreement. “You’re so incredibly lucky to shoot here.
“You act like you’ve never worked somewhere gorgeous,” she said, laughing softly. “Hawaii can’t be all that different from the Caribbean.”
“It is different, though,” he insisted. “In Hawaii… I’m in better company.” They shared a look and he squeezed her hand, chuckling. “I sound quite sappy, don’t I? I'm sorry.”
“It’s a good thing. I’m a sucker for sap,” she smiled.
“That’s good. The success of this entire date hinges on whether you can stand some sappiness.” He peered through the darkness, clearly looking for something, then nodded at another ribbon tied to a bush on the right-hand side of a fork in the path. “We’ve not too far to go, now.”
They continued along the path in comfortable silence, their hands loosely clasped. A few minutes passed, and Evi could hear the sound of rushing water. She shot Orlando a curious look, but he was looking for another marker.
“Ah. There we are.” A yellow ribbon tied to a tree laden with flowers marked the end of their hike. An excited grin spread across Orlando’s face and he pulled her along, quickening their pace until the path curved and they reached their destination.
“Oh,” Evi breathed, stopping to take in what was laid out before her. The running water she’d heard was a stream, and the path had led them to the top of a waterfall.
Along the rocky floor beside the water, a space was cleared for them, a beautiful quilt laid on the ground with two pillows for them to sit on and a big, traditional basket straight out of a movie right in the middle.
“I take it by your expression that you’re either incredibly impressed or I’ve gone way over my head and you hate it,” Orlando tilted his head so she could see him, hesitancy clear in his eyes.
“It’s…” her hand squeezed his and she finally tore her gaze away from it to look at him, smile reaching from ear to ear. “It’s amazing.”
Orlando’s smile was just as big as hers as his eyes lit up, “Really?”
“Really,” she stepped closer, her free hand-without a thought-reached up to sneak under his lapel. When she saw the action, she laughed at herself. “I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”
“Me too,” he spoke in a voice just above a whisper as he looked down at her, the smile fading as it hit both of them just how little space there was between them.
“Evangeline…”
“You can call me Evi, if you want,” she said suddenly, flushed and not looking directly at him, her eyes trailing down his face to focus on the skin exposed just above the collar of his shirt. The sound of the waterfall, of the nature around them, seemed to fade away, if only for a moment.
“Do you want me to call you Evi?”
She thought about it, as much as she could when she was so fascinated with his Adam’s apple. “I actually like it when you say Evangeline so…”
“Evangeline it is.” His breath coasted over her forehead and she shivered. He noticed and disturbed the bubble they were in, his movement snapping Evi back to reality and letting the whole world-and all the noise that came with it-return to her attention.
His jacket was off his back and over her shoulders before she could even figure out what he was doing. “Don’t want you to be cold.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the jacket closer about her shoulders, enjoying the fact that the scent of his cologne lingered on it. “I thought true gentlemen were an extinct breed.”
Orlando smiled, obviously encouraged by the fact that she seemed to approve of the entire setup. He tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the quilt, and guided her to sit on one of the pillows while he knelt in front of the basket.
“Where are they…I told her to put them in here,” he grumbled before his face melted and he saw the candles sticking out on the other side. He held them up dramatically, explaining, “So we can see what we’re eating.”
“Who’s her?”
Orlando snagged his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. “No one.”
Evi gave him a hard look, “Come on, tell me!”
“I promised her I wouldn’t, she’s an…” his face scrunched up adorably as he tried to find the perfect word. “Anonymous volunteer.”
“Seriously?” Evi reached out and tugged on the collar of his shirt so that their faces were an inch apart, speaking in a hushed voice. “Is our entire conversation being recorded? Because I think only FBI agents or criminals use this kind of secrecy.”
Orlando gulped and when he moved, his nose bumped into hers and they both sat back, laughing at themselves. “It was Emilie.”
The image of Emilie trekking through the jungle and tying markers to the trees immediately came to Evi’s mind and it was the funniest thing she’d thought of all day. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he clapped his hands on his legs.
“Did you pay her or something?”
“You know, she doesn’t require money to help out a friend in need.”
Evi raised an accusatory finger and snickered, “Friend?”
Orlando’s brow furrowed, confused, “What?”
“You and Emilie are friends?” Evi was having fun with this. “Do you braid each other’s hair?”
Orlando’s cheeks turned bright red at that, sending Evi over the edge. She doubled over, holding her stomach as she laughed. “It was only when I was asking her for help, it was all in good fun.
“I bet you’d look good with braids. I hope she took pictures.” Evi caught her breath, finally getting her laughter under control while Orlando opened the picnic basket. She pulled his jacket close around herself, watching him pull out a bottle of white Zinfandel and two crystal wine glasses that had been carefully wrapped in paper to ensure they wouldn’t break.
“I conferred with Emilie on your likes and dislikes,” he commented, digging around until he found the wine opener. “So I’m pretty sure you’ll approve of the meal.”
Once the bottle was open he poured them each a glass, holding his up towards her in a toast.
“To our first date,” he murmured, holding her gaze while they both took a sip of wine. “And-hopefully-not our last.”
---
Evi shook her head, still laughing. "I'm sorry, I really am. And I shouldn't be surprised either."
"Why's that?" Orlando's brow furrowed.
"Well, you've said about a million times since I've met you that you like them," she shrugged, still smiling, and held up the Jaffa cake. "I shouldn't be surprised you packed some in here."
"Well, at least I packed a lot of un-funny foods," Orlando motioned to everything they had spread out and nearly-eaten all the way. "Being laughed at on the first date isn't exactly what I planned."
"Technically, though," Evi held her hand up, like she'd come up with a genius idea. "If you laugh along with me, I wouldn't be laughing at you but with you."
Almost immediately, Orlando started laughing. Forced, but not too forced; it was hard not to be amused when Evi sniffed the Jaffa cake questioningly before taking a bite out of it. The expression on her face was the funniest thing he'd ever seen; at first she didn't immediately know what to think of it but then the taste must've exploded on her tongue before her eyebrows shot straight up and she nodded vigorously. "S'good!"
Orlando brushed a piece of it off his shirt and laughed even harder. "Asked for the news, not the weather!"
Hitting his arm, Evi took another bite of the cake and shook her head at him, clearly daring him to make another joke about her eating to see what would happen.
He held his hands up in surrender and chose to stay quiet for a while, watching her without staring, amused by the small little quirks she had more than anything else, really. The way her nose wrinkled involuntarily when she smirked briefly, or how she always wiped her hands with the napkin resting on her leg after every bite. It didn't matter if she didn't get anything on them.
Finishing the Jaffa cake, she licked her lips and brought the napkin to her mouth, wiping away anything that might've stuck. No way was she going to talk to him with chocolate at the corner of her mouth. Knowing Orlando, he'd probably be too sweet to mention it.
"You're staring," she said from behind the napkin, smirking (and nose wrinkling).
“You caught me.” He smiled and shrugged. “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”
He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the way she blushed after that. “Oh, stop,” she said without really meaning it.
“Stop what?” He started gathering their dishes and putting it back in the basket, glancing up to meet her eyes. “Flattering you? Thought that’s what a man’s meant to do when he’s on a date with a lovely woman.”
She laughed. “Oh, I get it. You’re saying that because that’s ‘what a man’s meant to do.’”
Orlando’s eyes widened. “What? No!” Evi laughed harder when he became flustered, fumbling for an explanation. “That’s not it, not at all. I meant it, Evangeline, of course I did. You’re beautiful, I wouldn’t just-”
He stopped short when she put a hand on his arm. “I was teasing you. Calm down.”
Her hand started rubbing his arm softly. He glanced down, then back into her eyes, and smiled embarrassedly. “Well, I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” she said softly, leaning slightly closer to him. Orlando’s eyes darted to her lips for an instant and he subconsciously licked his own. Without even meaning to he started leaning in, his breath caught in his throat and his heart pounding against his chest, and Evi didn’t look away, not even when he was so close he could feel her soft exhale across his cheek. “Orlando, I-”
“Right, yeah.” He pulled back suddenly, breath whooshing out of him while he clenched and unclenched a fist. Focusing his attention on the picnic basket, he frantically rearranged its contents and cleared his throat. “Something to drink? Another Jaffa cake?”
"No thank you," Evi replied, not knowing whether to be flustered or frustrated at what was (or wasn't) happening between them. "I'm good, Orlando."
Still fidgeting with the contents of the basket, he looked up at her. "You sure? 'Cause I swear, Evangeline, these Jaffa cakes are the best I've had in ages. You're missing out--"
Evi's finger pressed against Orlando's lips, shushing him. Wordlessly, she scooted over, moving closer to him, making sure that this time, she kept her eyes locked on his.
"Orlando?" she murmured, deliberately letting her breath coast against his cheek. She watched him react, watched his eyes slowly close and open again, and finding that they'd darkened significantly.
Subconsciously, Orlando licked his lips again, trying to keep his focus on Evi's eyes and not her lips. He was failing, though. Badly. "Y... yeah?"
"Can we just... stop talking for a while?" Evi wasn't sure where she was getting her sudden confidence, but figured that what was happening was what they wanted... what they needed to happen.
Orlando nodded, slowly raising his hand between them. When it was raised to eye level, Evi found that he was holding up a fork. In his other hand, Orlando showed Evi a plate with what seemed to be a homemade dessert. "Stop talking... and start digging into this, love," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. "Made it myself."
"It... it looks amazing."
"Molten Chocolate Cake." Orlando held it up closer just for Evi to take in the scent and the sight of the dark chocolate cake with its ganache sauce. "This is our real dessert, Evangeline. I saved the best for last."
Fighting back a sigh, Evi gave him a sweet smile and took the plate and fork from him, trying to hide her disappointment. It wasn't that she expected them to be rolling around the grass with their hands all over each other....a few moments passed before Evi realized she'd let the image drift a little too long in her mind. Color rose to her cheeks and she smiled even bigger as she took a bite of the cake.
"S'good?" he asked, watching her with a wry smile.
"You have no idea." She let it roll around on her tongue, savoring the taste. She covered her mouth when she realized she'd been talking with it open. "Did your best friend Emilie help you make it?"
Orlando brushed at his nose and laughed, breaking eye contact. "Actually, it was Dom that helped me cook it."
"And by help you, you mean...?"
"He sat on the stool and told me what I was doing wrong the entire time," Orlando admitted.
"Of course," Evi nodded.
He nodded along with her, "Of course."
"What, did you hand out fliers inviting everyone over for a 'Let's impress Evi' party?"
"Well, that depends..." He looked up to her with such an intensity in his eyes it nearly caused Evi to choke. "Is it working?"
Evi purposely took a moment to 'think it over,' delighting in the way he kept his eyes on her, not blinking once. "Mebbe."
"Well then, it was all my idea. Nobody helped, just me," he grinned from ear to ear.
Placing the plate down beside her, Evi wiped her hands on the napkin before tossing it into the basket. "So when you mentioned Emilie earlier you were just talking about....what? Your other personality?"
"I think if I had a female personality I wouldn't quite be as interested in you as I am," Orlando pointed out, then quirked his eyebrow up. "Then again, I'm sure being female doesn't stop a lot of people from liking you. So yeah, Emilie's my other personality. You'll be able to tell the difference, I think, she's quite a bit more violent than I am."
"Thankfully she's not on this date, I don't think I could handle being literally hit on."
Orlando laughed, actually snorting, which caused Evi to join him. "It wouldn't be us without lame jokes."
Evi scoffed as if hurt. "You think that was lame?"
He widened his eyes innocently, "What? Lame? No! Of course not, I said....er, I said it was the funniest thing I've ever heard. Ever. I mean it."
She rolled her eyes. "Wow, how could I not believe you?"
"You'd believe me before Dom or Emilie or any of the others who helped....I mean, any of my other personalities. Right?"
"Oh, of course," Evi nodded. Her hand absently moved to rest on his without her even considering it. If only Orlando didn't react as if she'd put her hand on his crotch, eyes widening and mouth dropping open, it would've stayed natural. But of course, he did, and she pulled away, both of them smiling like idiots.
"Evangeline...?" he said after a moment.
She snagged her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.
"I don't know how many times I've told you this but I'll say it again." He slid his fingers under the hand that had touched his a moment before and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."
“Well,” she breathed, not letting go of his hand after he lowered it. Her cheeks flushed at his compliment and she smiled almost shyly. “You can tell your other personalities that it’s definitely working.”
“They’ll be glad to know their work wasn’t all for nothing.” He smiled and squeezed her fingers. “But nowhere near as glad as me.”
“Seriously, Orlando, everything you’ve done tonight is incredible.” Evi’s smile was bright and full and it gave Orlando a wonderful, heady sensation. Like he was on top of the fucking world. “I’m not just impressed, I’m touched. You really put a lot into this night.”
Orlando, flushed with pleasure that he’d managed to do this right, shrugged and turned his attention to his own cake. “Well, I mean, how could I not? You deserve it.”
If he’d looked up he would have caught her amused, almost mischievous smile. As it was, he was too busy looking down at his dessert and was completely caught off guard when she casually commented, “I hope you didn’t do all this just so you could get in my pants.”
Evi patted his back when he choked, eyes wide with shock. When he was finally able to talk, he exclaimed, “God no, Evangeline! Of course not! I wouldn’t-”
Laughing, Evi squeezed his shoulder. “Relax. You make it too easy for me to tease you. I know that’s not why you did all this, Orlando. I mean it, I’m touched. I’m sorry. I think I hang out with Dom too much.”
“Yeah, that’s not a good idea.” Orlando shook his head, sharing an amused smile with her. “Maybe to reverse the damage he’s done to you… you should hang out with me more often.”
Evi nodded, her smile wide. "Maybe I should," she agreed, setting down her plate and taking his empty one away from him while he continued recovering. She was putting away everything before Orlando had the chance to object, so instead, he silently watched her, noting her little habits while she moved.
"I really think you should," he muttered, louder than he'd wanted, and his eyes went wide again as Evi turned around to look at him. Ducking his head, Orlando scratched the back of his head embarrassedly, biting his lip and trying not to look at Evi, who was holding back a laugh.
Once she was finished, Evi placed a gentle hand on his, smiling more when he didn't react like he did earlier. "Y'know... Orlando, you shouldn't worry," she began, waiting until their eyes locked. "Because I really think I will."
"Good," Orlando grinned, taking hold of Evi's hand. "It'll take a while for me to cleanse you of Dom's influence."
"Well since you'll be here a while anyways, you can take all the time you need cleansing me because--"
Evi froze, covering her eyes with her other hand.
"That came out wrong."
It took a moment for Orlando's thought process to follow. After all, the idea Evi mentioned seemed more than inviting. Just imagining her and taking the time to... what the bloody hell am I thinking?
"Don't... don't worry 'bout it," he said quickly, hoping that she didn't notice how long it took him to react. "I got what you meant, Evangeline."
"Good, good." Evi ran her hand over her face. "I don't want you to think I'm some closet pervert."
"You aren't?" Orlando pretended to sound surprised.
"No!" she protested. "If anyone's a closet pervert, it's Dom and Emilie, who in my opinion he's been rubbing off on a lot lately."
His lips quirked up into an even bigger smile. "Was that supposed to be dirty too? Sorry, I don't speak Pervert very well."
"You know what?" Evi snapped, but couldn't have an ounce of annoyance in her entire body when Orlando quirked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as he waited for what she was going to say. She growled in frustration when she couldn't come up with anything close to a threat.
"What?" He poked her knee. "Come on, you can tell me."
"Nothing, never mind." She waved it off. "I was going to threaten you bodily harm but then I remembered. You're an elf. What kind of bitch beats up an elf?"
"Well, really, if one's a bitch they don't care, but you..." he poked her knee again and laughed when she snatched his finger.”You're not a bitch."
"You're just saying that so I don't break your finger. You know I can, if Dom's told you anything." She gave each word a faux-confident air. "I'm Canadian, we're really violent. We have mobs and gangs and--"
"You were part of these mobs and gangs?" Orlando asked her, playing along with it.
"Of course, I was their Queen."
"I don't believe it," he shook his head, using her grip on his finger to his advantage and pulling her a little closer to him so his hand could move to her waist. She didn't seem to care; in fact, she leaned into his touch. "You're not Emilie, you don't have an ounce of violence in you. If you do, you don't know how to use it."
"It's not like I need a user manual for it," she said, her voice suddenly a weak whisper. They were close and not moving away? How different of them. "I could be tough if I wanted to."
"Oh yeah? Tough, you say?" He was whispering as well, his smile lessening to a sweeter one. His other hand ghosted over her cheek for a moment. "I still don't believe you."
"Well that's your own problem then," she teased.
"Hurt me then. Poke me, pinch me, tickle me into submission, you little Canadian Mobster."
Evi snorted, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as she laughed. "You did not just ask me to tickle you into submission."
"Mmm, I think I did," his lips grazed over the edge of her ear as he took in a breath, the smell of lavender tickling his senses. "Prove me wrong, Evangeline. Do it."
"You asked for it," she breathed against his neck, hands quickly grabbing at his sides.
He reacted immediately, almost shocked. Apparently he was a little more bark than bite, but it didn't mean he didn't enjoy pulling Evi on top of him as he fell back onto the ground; pushing her away and pulling her back at the same time. "Jesus, you really are a mobster!"
"I really, really am," she giggled, tickling him mercilessly.
"You..." he couldn't stop laughing. "You know I could---I could get out of this any...dear lord not there! Any second!"
She was grabbing at his chest, his actual nipple for god's sake, and he couldn't get away from her. Not that he wanted to. "Are you trying to take away my nipple, love?"
"Maybe." She was bright red with laughter, his hands were frantically grabbing his wrists and trying to pull her hands away but not too far away. It was hard not to notice that while the tickling he was trying to get away from, it was her he wanted to keep close. "You know you like it."
"Uncle, uncle!" he gasped, head resting against the pillow he'd been sitting on a few moments ago. She finally let up and he was given more than a second to catch his breath. His hands dropped down to her legs, which were around his waist he'd just noticed. Orlando cursed himself in his head; she was straddling him. On the first date. Dear lord, what did he do in a previous life to deserve this?
"Now you can tell all your friends you were beat up by a tiny little girl," she whispered.
"No, when I tell them I'm going to say I was beaten by a Canadian Mobster," Orlando laughed. "And I wouldn't be lying!"
“Is your nipple okay?” she asked, smirking, and made no moves to get off of him yet.
He snorted. “The nipple’s fine, I think. I’ll live.”
“That’s good to hear.” She put her hands on top of his, which were resting on her upper thighs. “And maybe next time you’ll believe me when I tell you something.”
“While we’re on the subject, is there anything else I should know about you?” Orlando teased. “Any skeletons in your closet you’d like to reveal?”
Evi scoffed. “As if I’d tell you about those on the first date!” They both laughed and she lifted his hands off her legs so she could get off of him, much to his disappointment. Stifling a sigh, he sat up and Evi brushed the grass off his back for him.
“Just look at those stars,” he murmured, glancing up. Evi leaned against his shoulder, nodding in agreement as she looked up, and he decided that he wasn’t going to move for the rest of the night, not as long as she stayed that close to him.
---
“-and we were up until eleven last night packing the picnic basket and making sure everything was perfect.” Orlando continued a story he’d been telling as the car came to a stop in front of Evi’s house. He got out quickly, opening her door for her. “Emilie’s kitchen was a mess by the end of it, and Maggie kept coming in to try to steal food. Emilie was chasing her around the house with a wooden spoon. I honestly feared for her life.”
“That’s Maggie and Emilie for you,” Evi laughed, slipping her hand in his while they made their way up the pathway to her house. “If they didn’t love each other, they’d have killed each other long ago. Emilie seems to have that kind of relationship with a lot of people."
“I can believe it,” Orlando nodded. They’d reached her front door then, and Evi pulled her house key out of her pocket. “So what’s the verdict? Did I exceed your sappy quota, or was I on target?”
She smiled, meeting his eyes while her hands toyed with her key. “You had the perfect level of cheesiness. It went very well with the wine.”
“I’m glad,” he laughed. “I had a brilliant time, Evangeline.”
“So did I. Everything was… incredible,” she breathed out. “Thank you so much, Orlando.”
He waved it off, shaking his head. “You deserve it, Evangeline. I wanted tonight to be… you know. Special.”
The blush that spread across his cheeks was adorable, and Evi reached up with one hand to brush her fingertips against his cheekbone.
“You’re approaching the limit,” she teased. Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his cheek and murmured in his ear, “Tonight was fantastic. Thank you.”
She pulled back just slightly, enough that he could look her in the eyes. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, but neither of them made any move to move away.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said softly. “Does that mean you’d be interested in trying it again sometime?”
“I think I’d be very interested in that,” she nodded.
They both paused, Evi drawing her lower lip between her teeth and Orlando hesitating before he put one hand on the small of her back, the other resting on her waist. Evi looked up, meeting his eyes, and he leaned in slowly to press his lips tentatively against hers. When he felt her respond, her mouth moving against his and her arms encircling his neck to draw him closer, he deepened the kiss, pressing her back against the front door.
Their first kiss had been desperate, needy, fast. Orlando made a point to take this one slower, taking his time to memorize the feel of having her body pressed against his. Her hands played with the hair at the name of his neck, the light touch sending shivers down his spine. Subconsciously his hand began rubbing her back in small circles, moving lower until he slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt.
Right when he began to appreciate how warm her skin was against his touch, an annoying little voice in the back of his mind reminded him, This is only the first date.
Evi nibbled lightly on his lower lip, following that with a swipe of her tongue, and that nagging conscience was easily pushed out of the way.
A second later, though, it grew louder. You don’t want her to think, not for a second, that this is just going to be a one-night stand or some kind of rebound.
And goddamnit, that was only too true.
So with great difficulty and extreme reluctance, Orlando pulled away before his hormones took over his brain completely and he started pulling off any clothes right there on Evi’s front porch.
“Evangeline,” he whispered, pulling his hand from beneath her shirt while they both panted, trying to catch their breath. He whispered her name again, filled with longing but equally wary of taking this night too far and ruining their chances at having anything long-term.
She looked at him, eyes wide and trusting, and he lifted both hands to cup her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he murmured. “Please, please don’t take this the wrong way. You’re amazing, and everything we’ve done tonight has been amazing. I want to leave it that way. I don’t want to rush into anything, d’you know what I mean?”
Evi nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, leaning in to press a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. “You have no idea how hard it is to walk away from you right now. But I want to take things slow, if that’s alright. I mean, you’ve already seen me as a lecherous drunk.” She laughed, the breath she’d been holding rushing out of her suddenly. He smiled, eyes crinkling, and kissed her forehead. “I want to prove that I can be a gentleman.”
“You’re right,” she nodded, breathing carefully. She put her arms around him for a moment, leaning her cheek on his shoulder while they hugged. “Goodnight, Orlando. Thank you for everything.”
“It was my pleasure. Goodnight, Evangeline. Sweet dreams.” He kissed her once more, keeping it short before he lost control again, and finally let go. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Promise. We have to get to work on cleansing you of Dom’s influence, right?”
“I can’t wait,” Evi grinned.
---
“Haven’t been to the theatre in quite some time,” Dom played with the collar of his shirt, feigning arrogance. “I’m sure all the women will be throwing their panties at me when I arrive.”
“With your luck, it’ll be elderly women,” Ian grinned. “And they won’t be throwing panties so much as throwing diapers.”
“That’s a cruel, cruel thing to say, mate,” Dom pointed a warning finger at him. “Not all the elderly wear diapers.”
“And you would know, of course…” Ian joked.
Ignoring the last comment, Dom reached over to the table to grab the Fandango-Evi refused to stand in line, Fandango was ‘easily the more efficient way to go’-printout to check what movie they were seeing again.
This was a rare occasion, all of them going to a movie, considering the last few weeks. With the exception of the birthday party and the surfing lesson-the only one, Dom reminded himself forlornly-Emilie had been rather anti-social as of late. Nobody really bothered to guess because the answer was clear.
Dom was really the only one who didn’t get why Emilie was still beating herself up over the breakup with Josh. She wasn’t the one who got her heart broken, he was. She should be bounding up and down the streets, happy as a kitty hopped up on catnip, and enjoying life now that she was free. She had friends who cared for her, she had Dom. Why wasn’t that enough?
“Em not ready yet?” he asked with passable casualness, lounging on the loveseat and sparing one, two, a dozen glances to the staircase.
“I checked an hour ago, she was just getting out of the shower. She seemed like she wanted to go…” Maggie couldn’t help looking sad as she talked about her friend.
Ian checked his watch, “It’s just a movie. Nothing too drastic. Small steps, right?”
“You talk about her like she’s some recovering drug addict who you’re letting back out into the world!” Dom shook his head, sitting up a little more when he heard movement, only to see Orlando and Evi walking out from the kitchen, looking as smitten as ever. He rolled his eyes. “Get a room, you two.”
Evi threw a Cheeto at him. He caught it in his mouth.
“Good doggy,” she teased, sitting down with Orlando opposite of Dom. Like everyone else, she looked upstairs. “You think maybe one of us should-”
“I’ll do it,” Dom volunteered, beaming. It wasn’t lost (pun not intended) on anyone the fact that he quite literally jumped at the chance of seeing Emilie’s room.
After bounding up the stairs, he gave her door a quick and happy rap-rap-rappity-rap. Silence followed and he knocked again. A minute passed and nobody answered.
Carefully turning the doorknob, his free hand just over his eyes in case he was walking in on Emilie in nothing but her jammies-which the majority of his mind and the rest of his body hoped was nothing at all-he stepped into the room.
Emilie sat on the edge of her bed, focused on something small and shiny in her hands. It didn’t take him more than second to figure out what it was.
“You going to make a stop at the pawn shop and get some pocket change?” he joked weakly. She didn’t even bother to respond or even acknowledge he was in the room.
When she did speak, it was more to herself than anything. “I was looking for a hair tie again. I need to figure out where I put those because I looked in the drawer and…”
Closing the door behind him and moving a few steps closer, Dom didn’t dare to say a word yet.
“I convinced myself that I forgot about this,” her thumb traced the silver band. “That it wasn’t on my mind all the time. That he wasn’t-”
She sucked in a breath and shook her head, frustrated with herself. “But here it is, still in my drawer and I…I can’t-”
Again, she took a pregnant pause, finally looking away, down at her feet or something less important on the ground. But it didn’t take long before her eyes were on the ring again. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen him. I should’ve…there were a lot of things I should’ve said to him before I…”
“Em, it’s normal that you haven’t quite…” Dom approached the topic carefully, playing with the ring on his pinky as he watched her pay such attention to the ring in her hands. “If you ask me, I’m sure Josh is falling apart without you-”
“Dom, don’t,” she warned, surprisingly firm. She stared at him with fiery eyes. “That’s the last thing I want to hear right now.”
“Sorry.” It came immediately and he meant it. The last thing he wanted to hear was anger in her voice; especially when it was anger directed towards him. This was exactly the kind of thing he just didn’t get; he wanted to, he really did, but he didn’t understand why it was so hard for her to move on from Josh. That Yank wasn’t good enough for her, couldn’t she see that? “I’m just a little-”
“It’s hard for me, Dom,” she again looked down at her hands, eyes brimming with tears. “It’s hard for me to just let go.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He sat down next to her, ignoring the glance she gave when she noticed just how close he was to her now. “Don’t listen to me. I’m a ponce, remember?”
She gave him a teary smile. “Kind of hard to forget.”
“There’s nothing wrong with forgetting or not forgetting, but…” he shook his head. “I dunno, you can remember how much you loved him and still move on. Don’t ever let anyone keep you from going on with your life.”
“I know I shouldn’t but…I’ve just been burying myself in work so much lately,” she ran her hands over her face. “As much as I loved Lost before I just couldn’t wait to get that baby bump off my back and go out, you know? Now…Now I’m just working, working, working and then going home to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Dom ducked his head. “I’ve noticed.”
A moment of silence passed and when Dom looked from his lap to her face, he saw her bottom lip quivering. His heart sank at the sight. “Emilie…”
“No, it’s nothing,” she lied, voice thick with emotion. Her hand gave a dismissive wave but Dom paid it no heed. When she saw him still looking at her from the corner of her eye, she cleared her throat and shot for a firmer tone. “Really, I’m fine. We should-we should get going.”
Dom stopped her from getting up and she didn’t put up too much of a fight. He sighed; an Emilie who shied away from the opportunity of violence? “You’re not fine.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel, Dom,” she covered her face for a moment, trying to collect herself. “It’s just my back; the fucking baby bump does a number on it.”
“Alright. Here, just let me…” she reacted to his hand moving close to her and he didn’t bother to hide his disappointment at that. “M’not going to hurt you, Emilie.”
It said it all in her eyes: she believed him. Rasping an apology, she relaxed against his hand as it touched the spot where her spine met her head. Almost immediately, she leaned against his fingers.
Dom rubbed her back gently; up and down, up and down, his warm hand against her cotton tee, he could feel some tension disappear. His eyes were locked on her face, watching as her eyes slid shut in reaction to his ministrations, the hard lines melting and her expression becoming softer with each passing second.
“Better?” he could hardly manage a strong enough voice to ask, still watching her with rapt attention.
She nodded, eyes still shut. He was sure she was feeling better, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
God, all he wanted was to make her feel better. He was sure he would do anything-big or small-to accomplish it but even sitting next to her, giving her back a small rub, felt futile…pointless. There were a lot of better ways he could go about cheering her up, letting her know she was beautiful and amazing and funny and loved.
“Mmm,” she hummed, head rolling forward
“I want you to know,” he said suddenly, voice barely audible. “I’ll always be here for you, alright? Don’t want you thinking that I’ll leave you because I won’t. Not ever.”
When Emilie opened her eyes, they met his immediately without a second of searching. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips-absently, Dom was sure, but it still didn’t help the situation-and he swallowed. The room was quiet so the sound seemed louder, as if he were in some cartoon. If he was, his tongue would have been by his feet and hearts would’ve been in his eyes by now. Maybe a little thought bubble above his head with the image of him and top of her, ripping each other’s clothes off…
Emilie’s hand touched his leg and every single fucking thought in his head shot out immediately. He didn’t dare to glance down-to look away from her-but he knew that her hand wasn’t there by accident. Or if it was, the possibility small, she was aware of it and still not moving it away.
Their faces were just inches apart, Dom noticed. How’d they suddenly get so close to each other?
She wasn’t moving away yet. He could see her cheeks tingeing pink and could feel her breath on his lips, quick and shallow; impatient. He licked his lips, this time with purpose. She still wasn’t moving away. Her hand on his leg tightened for a second when he moved closer.
But she still wasn’t moving away. And Dom could feel his heart in his throat.
A knock came at the door, followed by Maggie’s voice. “You okay in there, Emilie?”
Emilie pulled away at the noise and Dom growled, “Fuck it all!”
He said it before he could stop himself and immediately shut his mouth to prevent the words from rolling off his tongue but was too late, making himself look even more like a bumbling idiot. Emilie looked at him with a quirked eyebrow for a moment, realizing what had almost just happened, and her lips curled up.
Dom smiled too, it was hard not to, as he slumped forward in defeat. His forehead rested against her chin as they both fell into a fit of laughter. Nothing too drastic, just some chuckles and giggles under their breath. And when Dom finally pulled away, he saw she was still smiling, bigger than before. He was happy to see that she was happy. Or at least getting there.
Maggie poked her head in the door a moment later, mouth open and ready to comfort her friend. But when she saw the two of them, her mind jumped to a certain conclusion; she smiled and apologized in the way that clearly said ‘I’m sorry for preventing you from jumping each other’s bones’ and moved to leave.
“Wait, Maggie,” Emilie called after her. “We were just talking.”
“Yeah, talking.” Dom ran his hands over his face and scooted an inch or two away from her. “Talking is what we were doing.”
“Well, are you done talking or should I come back in…what? Ten minutes?” She gave Dom a once over. “Maybe five?”
“Oi!”
Emilie, still smiling, gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze and slid off the bed. “No, we’re ready now. Just give me a minute to find my shoes.”
“Alright…” Maggie glared at both of them as she shut the door. From the other side, they could hear her muffled voice: “Be safe.”
Dom stood up and clapped his hands together, “It wouldn’t be a visit to your house if I didn’t embarrass myself, now would it?”
He watched her slip into the nearest pair of flip flops and approach the bedside table. She opened the drawer, empty save for a piece of scratch paper, a pen and a box that looked like it was supposed to hold a ring. Giving said ring one last look; she gently placed it inside the box and closed the drawer, letting out a long sigh.
“You ready?” he asked after her.
She turned to him and gave a faint nod. “Almost.”