20/?
Epico - A Sorta Fairytale: Chapter Twenty
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [seemedsobright].
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dominic Monaghan/Emilie de Ravin, Ian Somerhalder/Maggie Grace, Orlando Bloom/Evangeline Lilly
Summary: Love. Friendship. Growth. Sex. Change. Drama. But mostly just sex. Sure, we have a plot… somewhere around here (now where did I put that thing?), but when broken down into its simplest form, Epico = SEX!
Disclaimer: We don't own these people. They're real, sure, but none of these events have or ever will transpire. No offense is meant and we're making no profit from this. Title taken from the song A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos.
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.
Previous Chapters
---
The mattress groaned a little as Ian sat down. All Maggie could see out of the corner of her eye as she continued to stare up at the ceiling was his disheveled hair, but she could certainly hear him sigh.
"What's wrong, baby?"
He ran a hand over his face and looked over his shoulder at her, smiling a little. "Nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, today was a long day, that's all." His hand reached out and touched hers as it rested on her stomach. "Did you decide?"
Maggie turned over to face him, shaking her head. "I sat at that table and stared at those damn brochures for about three hours and I still can't."
"Well," Ian kicked off his shoes and laid down. "We'll look at them some more later. It can't be too hard finding a place suitable enough to be the location of our wedding. It just has to be, you know, perfect in every single imaginable way."
"You don't have to, you know, you already did most of the work narrowing it down to the three." She kissed his temple.
His hand squeezed hers as he shook his head, "Despite what the media might say about grooms not wanting any part in the wedding planning, I do want some part in this, Mags."
"It's like Pandora's Box, saying something like that." Maggie smiled as she moved closer, wrapping an arm around his stomach and pressing her lips against his pulse point. "Telling me you wanna be a part of the whole planning process means I'll be bugging you in the middle of the night about whether we she should have roses or lilies."
Ian half-groaned, half-laughed. "You're right, that's not really why I wanna be woken up in the middle of the night."
Maggie smiled against his neck, "And why do you want to be woken up, Mr. Somerhalder?"
"I can think of a number of reasons, Mrs. Somerhalder."
"Mmm, not Mrs. Somerhalder yet," she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, her smile widening. "It's gonna be great though, when it happens."
Ian shook his head, blue eyes sparkling. "It's gonna be amazing."
She kissed him sweetly, only to have him wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close, deepening the kiss. When they pulled away, barely a breath apart, they both smiled like idiots.
"Speaking of how amazing it's going to be, how's everything going? I mean, your mom--"
"My mom insists on flying out early enough to help as much as she possibly can with this thing."
"That's good, what about everybody else?"
"Well, Marisa and her irrational fear of flying aren't gonna be here till a few days before, just in time for rehearsals and all that."
"You should just drug her to get her on a plane," Ian laughed when she smacked him. "I was kidding. Drugging little sisters is bad."
"She's excited about meeting you, so you better be nice."
"I'm always nice."
Maggie lifted her head to look at him, narrowing her eyes. "Oh, like you were just a second ago?"
"I'm pretty sure she can take a joke, Mags." Ian pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, fighting hard not to show how relieved he was when her face melted almost instantaneously. "What about your dad and Ian 2.0?"
"First of all, if we're gonna be using that nickname, he insists we use it for you."
Ian scoffed, "Oh really?"
"Yes, really. I mean, you do want his approval, right? I don't know if I've told you but--"
"The Denig family is an insanely protective family, I think I got it. The last thing I want is to get pummeled by your brother." Ian poked his tongue out at her. "Okay, how about...Em and Evi?"
Maggie sighed, running a hand over her face. "I made the list of stuff to do for them but things have been so hectic, I keep forgetting to give it to them."
"You should, you know. Having this entire wedding on your shoulders is gonna break you," Ian kissed her forehead. "And I can't return a broken wife."
Maggie snorted and smacked his arm. "Jerk."
"I knew I should've gotten that warranty."
"You couldn't return me if you tried."
"Like I said, shoulda gotten that damn warranty."
Resigning to the fact that, despite his exhaustion, Ian was in the kind of mood where it was best he be ignored, Maggie lowered her head back onto his shoulder, taking comfort in the even rise and fall of his chest and the beat of his heart against her ear.
"So, I mean, how are your two BFFs doing?"
"BFFs?"
"Best friends forever!" Ian explained, shaking his head. "God, didn't you go to high school?"
"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not as girly as you are."
Ian wasn't fazed, "I wouldn't think I'm girly based on the way you sound when I make you co--"
"Alright, alright, you win." Maggie yawned despite herself. "I'm tired, my insults aren't top-notch. Give a girl a break."
"I'm tired but my wit is as quick as ever, Mags." He didn't even have to look down to know she was rolling her eyes. Excessively. "So...okay. What were talking about? Right, Emilie and Evi. They're helping you out, right? They should--"
"I still need to talk to them about all the stuff left to do, but so far, everything's copasetic. Set's getting kind of frantic lately, though."
"Yeah? Seemed fine when I dropped by the other day." Ian said in an even voice. He made it a point to still visit Maggie on the set, knowing he could easily avoid going there altogether, but still didn't visit as frequently as was possible.
"It's not too bad, a lot of long hours for everyone. But we're enjoying the babies on set for Turniphead. Emilie's really loved working with them."
"Yeah, I saw her and Dom the other day." Ian stroked Maggie's hair. "I don't mean this in a bad way but I never thought of them as the first couple to get baby crazy."
"They're not." Maggie yawned again. "It's just a natural thing to be all melty and giggly around babies. You're that way too."
"I'm neither melty nor giggly."
"You so are."
"Fine, I am. But in a manly way."
"Oh, of course, you were looking like a real man making faces and gurgly noises at that baby in the mall yesterday."
"You loved it."
"I did," Maggie answered immediately, honestly. A moment of comfortable silence passed while they both thought of the same things. When she spoke again, there was a certain airiness to her voice. "Ian?"
"Yeah, Mags?" His voice was just as soft.
"We've never...you know, really talked about--"
"Two, maybe three," Ian whispered suddenly. Maggie lifted her head to look at him, eyes glistening as she watched with fixed attention. "Hopefully a girl first, but I won't complain either way."
"You--" Maggie paused, completely taken aback but smiling from ear to ear. "You're amazing."
"I really am," he said back, desperately trying to keep a straight face but then losing it when he winked, laughing.
"Amazing with the exception of being so not funny."
"But I make up for that part, don't I?"
Maggie shrugged sportively. "I guess."
He made a discomforted noise and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. "I love you so much, Mags."
She smiled against his shirt. "Love you too."
---
"I've known her longer."
With a smug little smile playing at her lips, Evi slammed her plate down on a table already occupied by Dom and Emilie. Orlando followed behind, placing his plate much more calmly beside hers and taking a seat. Some of the cast had a rare respite from filming and had taken the chance to descend upon the craft services trailer, situated advantageously on the beach. A few cheap plastic patio tables and matching chairs dotted the shore, most of the chairs occupied by hungry members of the cast or crew.
"Afternoon, Dom." Orlando nodded to him in greeting.
"Hey, mate." Dom nodded back, and the two men turned their attention to their lunches, apparently oblivious to the death glares their girlfriends were giving each other. By now they were immune to this argument; it had been going on behind Maggie's back since the day after Ian proposed.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Emilie asked.
Evi sat down and popped a grape into her mouth. "I've known Maggie longer than you have, thus, I deserve to be her Maid of Honor."
"Bullshit!" Emilie scowled. "How have you known her longer? We all met at the same time, here on set, the first day of rehearsals for the pilot."
"Maggie and I parked next to each other, and I almost side-swiped her car," Evi explained. "I apologized, and we introduced ourselves to each other, and walked onto set together. I've known her a good ten to fifteen minutes longer than you have!"
"This is absolutely absurd, Evi," Emilie declared. "You need to stop grasping at straws and admit defeat. Maggie is going to name me her Maid of Honor because she and I are best friends."
"You think you're better friends with Maggie than I am?" Evi raised an eyebrow and Emilie shrugged, digging to get the last bit of yogurt out of the plastic container. "That's just..."
"A correct assumption?" Emilie gave Evi an innocent expression before her spoon disappeared into her mouth.
Evi rolled her eyes. "How can you even measure something like that?"
"All signs point to it, Evikins. Look, being a bridesmaid will be fun! I'm sure you'll have a ball. And you'll have plenty of other opportunities to be a Maid of Honor at other weddings. Just not Maggie's." Emilie smiled sweetly and started peeling an orange.
"What do you think about this?" Evi poked Orlando's shoulder. He looked up from his sandwich, trying too hard to look innocently unaware. "Both of you. Who do you think deserves to be Maggie's Maid of Honor?"
Dom and Orlando looked at each other, both of them swallowing hard.
"Ah. Wow. That's, uh, quite the question, Evi," Dom said with a nervous chuckle. He glanced at Emilie and actually winced when he felt the full force of her glare hit him.
"This is a really tasty sandwich," Orlando commented. "Kudos to your catering team, they do a bang-up job. Gotta try this potato salad, just look at it."
"Yeah, they keep us well fed around here," Dom said, nodding in agreement.
"And hey, look at the craftsmanship of this... they call it a spork, don't they?" Orlando held the plastic utensil up.
"Yeah, that's what it's known as. Combination of the words spoon and fork. They could've gone with, you know, foon or something. But spork was more popular. Internet polls or something."
"Ingenious."
"Oh, don't be pussies about it," Emilie spat. "Just answer the question."
Dom popped a potato chip in his mouth and crunched loudly, gesturing wildly at his ears as though to say he couldn't hear Emilie.
"Orlando, please. This is important. Just be honest. Who should Maggie pick, Emilie or me?" Evi asked, putting her hand on top of Orlando's.
"Oh, bloody hell!" Orlando's spork 'accidentally' slipped from his grasp and fell into the sand. "Now I've got my spork all sandy! How'm I supposed to eat this delicious potato salad with no spork!"
"You need a new one," Dom said.
"There's an observant lad." Orlando stood up slowly and gave Dom an exaggerated wink. "Too bad I don't know where the extra sporks are kept."
"Well, my boy, it's your lucky day, since I happen to know exactly where they are kept. If you'll just follow me, I'll make your wildest spork dreams come true."
Dom and Orlando couldn't get away fast enough, and Emilie and Evi sighed and rolled their eyes at their retreating backs.
---
The arguing continued even after the workday was over and the set was long behind them, only now there was no Orlando, no Dom, no other castmates and crew to harrass. The smarter people knew that spoons, forks, sporks and all kinds of cutlery were good to use as distractions. Those who didn't know about Orlando's genius techniques had to find other ways to run away without being impolite.
Malcolm had seized the opportunity to bribe the two women, telling them he'd give an honest answer if they supplied him with candy and maybe an iPod. Much to his disappointment they didn't take the bait.
Now they stood facing each other in Maggie and Ian's living room, hands on hips and lips slightly pouted. They were supposed to be helping Maggie plan her wedding but she seemed to be handling things just fine on her own in the kitchen, and they had decided that it was time to settle this argument once and for all, no matter if it led to nail-clawing or hair-pulling.
"I just think it's time to accept that you won't be chosen," Emilie was saying, flipping her hair. "It's not healthy for you to be so delusional."
"And I think there's no need to get bitter that I'm going to be Maggie's Maid of Honor." Evi replied, standing her ground and raising an eyebrow at the blonde.
"What are you talking about?" Eyes narrowing dangerously, Emilie stood up straight in an attempt to match the older woman's height. "I was her roommate! Her friend! Her confidante! It's obvious that I should be the Maid of Honor."
"You were sick of each other by the end! I thought you kicked her for a condom, and now you're expecting her to just hand over such a nice and important position? Pathetic!"
Emilie snorted loudly. "Like she needs a control freak running amok on her wedding day."
"This is absolutely ridiculous," Evi said finally. "We're fighting like a pair of teenagers who both like the same boy."
"Hah! I would never compare Maggie to a boy, I win!"
Struggling not to strangle Emilie to death, Evi gave up and went for the only solution she knew. "Maggie!"
Maggie, passing through the living room on her way to to look up a few things on the web, came to a halt at Evi's insistent tone and slowly backtracked, poking her head in through the doorway. "Hmm?" She replied absently, mind still distracted with locations, locations, locations.
Standing next to each other, Evi with her long dark hair, sunkissed skin and freckles, Emilie with her blonde locks up in a simple ponytail and fair skin, they looked quite the pair as they both watched Maggie with somewhat hopeful expressions.
"Look, it's gotten to boiling point, and we both just need this sorted out once and for all," Emilie told her firmly.
"Need what sorted out? Guys, I have a lot of stuff to sort out, I can't just-"
Evi held her hand up to interrupt her. "Have you chosen your Maid of Honor?"
"My..." Maggie laughed, lightly smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Did I not tell you guys?"
"Obviously not," Emilie pointed out.
"I didn't even have to choose, it was always going to be my little sister Marisa. God, I've been so stressed I didn't even think, I'm so sorry!"
Suddenly Evi and Emilie were aware of both the embarrassment they felt and the irony that they had been trying to see who was the better friend, when neither had been good enough to remember that Maggie's own family might just possibly know her better than anyone.
"It's okay." Evi broke the silence and gave them both a small, awkward smile. "At least it's all cleared up, yeah?"
Emilie nodded in agreement. "Right! Of course it'll be your sister, we're the ones at fault for not thinking." Seeing that Maggie was obviously distracted, Emilie's voice turned softer. "Maggie, is there anything you need help with? We should be helping you, not stressing you out more."
"You know, for now, I think I'm okay," Maggie answered. "I really am sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner, it just toally slipped my mind."
"No, we understand, it's fine," Evi assured her. "Really, Mags, it's your wedding, you call the shots. And we're here for you, whenever you need anything."
"We'll be the best bridesmaids ever," Emilie swore.
"Thanks, you guys. Really." Maggie smiled. "Actually, it'd be nice to go check out some bridal stores this weekend, start looking at dresses and styles and all that. D'you want to come with?"
"Are you kidding? Spending hours ooohing and aaahhhing over gorgeous wedding dresses?" Emilie asked. "I'm there!"
"Me, too," Evi nodded.
"Great! We can all go this weekend. Thanks for understanding about the Maid of Honor thing. My sister, Marisa, she's so excited about it."
"Is she flying in to come with us dress-shopping?"
Maggie shook her head, laughing. "Marisa? As much as she's gonna enjoy coming out here for the wedding and meeting Ian, she's scared shitless of flying. We'll go shopping this weekend, pick out one or two we really like and I'll talk to her about it. No biggie, she won't be picky."
"As long as you don't force her into some big, fluffy, brown-colored monstrosity, eh?"
"I'm sure we all will be fine as long as it doesn't come to that," Emilie commented.
---
"You should've seen the looks on their faces," Maggie laughed, then stopped herself, hiding her smile behind the cup of coffee Ian had handed her. "Am I evil for finding it funny?"
"No," Ian laughed himself. "With all that's been going on, you deserve to laugh your ass off at Emilie and Evi making fools of themselves. I would've."
"Of course you would've, you lived with Dom."
Ian grinned from ear to ear, "I can use that as an excuse for pretty much anything, can't I?"
"Basically," she confirmed with a nod. She took a sip of coffee, looking at Ian over the rim of the mug. "How was your day? Make any headway in the wedding plans?"
"I'm glad you asked," Ian grinned, standing up and walking around so that he was behind her, his chest pressed lightly against her back. He took the coffee mug out of her hand, placing it on the kitchen counter.
"Close your eyes," he whispered in her ear, holding her hips and guiding her slowly down the hallway.
"Why? Where're we going?"
"No questions."
Maggie snorted, "Did you just meet me or something? As if I'm going to shut up--"
His hand covered her mouth and he laughed under his breath. "I wanna show you something but I don't want you to see it till we get there."
"What is it?" she said against the inside of his hand.
"Where we're going to get married."
"Yeah?" Maggie tried to shake away his hand, hoping he could feel her smiling brightly against it. He actually decided on a place?
"Yeah. You're going to love it." There was a hesitation, and in her mind's eye Maggie could see him bite his lower lip, apprehension in his eyes. "At least, I hope you'll love it. If not, I mean, just tell me, and we can both agree that I suck as a wedding planner, and you can take over and be Bridezilla and do everything yourself, so..."
"Ian?"
"Yeah, Mags?" He lifted his hand just enough to let her speak.
"You can stop rambling and just show me the place. Then we'll be able to decide who gets to be Bridezilla."
"Right."
A few more steps; the sound of the sliding glass door opening. Maggie's forehead creased and she opened her mouth to ask why he had to take her outside, couldn't he just show her the brochure? Ian's hand pressed over her mouth again before a sound could escape and she felt his breath pass over her ear when he whispered, "Shhh. Just wait a sec."
They were on the patio now, and Ian stopped her just before the railing.
"Okay, open."
Maggie's eyes opened. She saw... nothing. Just the calm ocean, waves rolling up onto the shore, the moonlight bathing the beach in silver.
"Ian?"
"You hate it. God, I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, it was just a stupid idea I had, I thought it was kind of sentimental but you're right, it was just..." He exhaled sharply, the force of the air making her hair move. His hands played with the hem of her t-shirt, thumbs slipping beneath the material to press into her hips.
"Ian."
"Mags?"
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Um. It's our backyard, Maggie. You've been there before. You might particularly recall the night we drank too much wine and ended up--"
"Yeah, I remember that night. It was a damn good night." Maggie turned around, her expression softening and a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of her lips. "You want to get married here? In our backyard?"
He scratched the back of his neck and looked at her almost sheepishly. "I guess it was just a stupid idea..."
She surprised him by cutting him off with a deep, enthusiastic kiss, her hands cupping the sides of his face to hold him in place.
"I, uh... Mags?" Ian looked at her in complete confusion when she finally pulled back.
"Perfect," Maggie breathed, breathless but not hesitating before going in for another kiss.
---
"What's on the agenda, by the way?"
"Well, bridesmaids dresses," Maggie motioned to Evi and Emilie. "Obviously."
Emiie stuck her tongue out at her. "What else, I mean?"
"Well, if we manage to pick out dresses today then I'll make sure Marisa can find one back home and we'll set up the dying of the shoes and purses if they don't match. And, if we can get it in, try to figure out the color configuration so it matches the dresses. Or the other way around, figure out the color of the flowers and the wedding and have the dresses match that."
Emilie made a face, "I get a headache just thinking about it."
"Try getting inside my head." Maggie rubbed her temple for a moment, firming her jaw before settling back into the conversation. "Okay, so hopefully next weekend we'll have the flowers figured out and the 22nd is when my mom's flying in."
Evi stopped her with a quick wave of her hand. "Wait, wait. I thought today was the twenty-second."
"Today's the fifteenth which means next Sunday is the twenty-second," Maggie rolled her eyes playfully. "God, Evi, do Canadians have a different math system or something? Two plus two equals--"
Evi smacked her, only a little less playfully. "I'd love for us to go a day where no one makes fun of my homeland."
"Why? It's just so much fun!" Emilie snorted.
"Shouldn't we make fun of Maggie or something? She's American, they do everything wrong."
Maggie's mouth dropped open and she gasped. But then, a half-second later, as though just realizing that she was in the power seat, her eyes narrowed and a smug grin spread across her features. "You do realize that, as the bride, I'm in charge of what you'll be wearing on my wedding day, right? While these dresses are pretty enough, I might want to go in the direction of..." She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it. "Hot pink?"
Evi visibly winced. "But...but that wouldn't go with the--"
"I'll make it work," Maggie flashed her a dangerous smile. "So...what were you saying about me being American?"
Giving her a look that clearly said, 'You win this round, but later...', Evi turned to Emilie for support. Maggie looked over at the same time to see that Emilie's face had fallen slightly, as if something was dawning on her. "Emilie?"
"Today's the fifteenth?" At Evi's and Maggie's nods she distractedly lifted a hand up, touching her chin as she thought. "Are you sure?"
"We could go get a calendar for you if you'd like," Evi tried to joke, but even she could tell that something was weighing heavily on Emilie's mind. "Why, what's today?"
"Nothing," Emilie shook her head, brushing it off. "I'm just--just being paranoid. That's all."
"Did you forget to do something? I swear, living with Dom had meddled with your brain."
Emilie looked over to her at the mention of Dom so sharply it looked like it hurt.
Evi lifted her dress up and walked down the small steps to Emilie. "Emilie, you look ready to v--"
"It's nothing! Just..." She bit her lip and ran a hand over her face. "I'm a little late, that's all."
"Late for what? Did you have to be somewhere?" Maggie's brow furrowed. "I thought you guys cleared your weekend so we could get all of this done?"
"No, no." Emilie waved a hand, stopping her. She gently lowered herself onto the nearest surface before standing right back up, not being able to make up her mind. "I'm not that kind of late. I'm...I'm the other kind of late."
"Oh." Maggie and Evi breathed the word as one. They glanced at each other over Emilie's head, their eyes wide with sudden understanding.
"You're probably right. About being paranoid," Evi said, laying her hand on Emilie's shoulder. "It doesn't have to mean anything."
"But I'm never this late. My period is obsessive about being on time. Well, it was nearly a week late one time, but that was back in junior high when I barely knew what a French kiss was, so I knew I had nothing to worry about back then." Emilie broke off, forcing herself to take a deep breath. It did little to calm her. "Every once in awhile it'll be a day or two off, but..."
"How late are you?" Maggie asked softly, aware that the proprieter of the bridal shop was looking a them, wondering why Emilie was sitting down and wrinkling the one-of-a-kind creation she had been trying on. She subtly shifted her weight so that her back was to the woman and Emilie was hidden from view.
"About three days, I think. Nearing four," Emilie breathed.
"But you and Dom always..." Evi glanced around. They were still the only women in the shop, but that dressmaker was glaring daggers at them by now. Her voice dropped below a whisper. "I mean, you used... right?"
Emilie's eyes closed. "There were... a few times." She swallowed hard. "God, guys, what will I do if... if..."
Evi shook her head. "No, don't. Don't start speculating and obsessing over all the 'what ifs.' You'll drive yourself mad."
"Evi's right. Don't start freaking out until you know anything for sure," Maggie said. Her voice dropped, wanting to be gentle and discreet. "You two should change out of those dresses, and we'll stop by a drug store to get a test."
Emilie looked at Maggie, both gratitude and fear crossing her expression. A second later she frowned and shook her head. "But this is your weekend, Mags, I can't... there's so much to do for the wedding, and I don't want to..."
Maggie took her firmly by the arm, forcing her to her feet and marching her back to the dressing rooms. "You're going to be agonizing over this until you know, so the sooner the better. Besides, this might end up being just a little more important than a wedding that's still months away. Bridesmaids' dresses can wait a little while."
---
When Maggie shifted the car's gear from 'drive' to 'park,' the three women glanced at one another, saying nothing before glancing up out the window; all of a sudden - especially to Emilie - the drugstore seemed ten times larger, and it even had a portentous quality to it, staring back at her as she looked harder at it.
"Let's get it over and done with," Maggie casually said, unlocking the doors. None of them made any attempt to move, though they were all aware that by putting it off, it'd just agonize Emilie further.
Upon reading the look of increasing fear on Emilie's face, both Maggie and Evi decided that it'd be best if she stayed in the car for this purchase. "We'll be back before you know it," Evi assured her. Emilie only realized what she meant a few seconds later, and quickly shook her head, opening her door and beginning to step out.
"I can't let you two do that," she mumbled, looking slightly cross. "This is my problem. And they know you in there. What'll they think when they see Maggie Grace and Evangeline Lilly - attached to Ian Somerhalder and Orlando Bloom, respectively - buying a pregnancy test?"
"First off, this isn't a problem. Second, they know you in there too, since, in case you'd forgotten, we're all in the same show together. And you're attached to a Dominic Monaghan yourself," Maggie said, pulling her ex-roommate back into the car. "That makes your argument invalid. And them seeing Evi and I getting it is better than them seeing Evi and I watching you get it."
"Then I'll go by myself."
"Which would pinpoint you alone," Evi quickly replied, "Instead of having me and Maggie to choose from."
"It doesn't mean I'm buying it for myself." Though Emilie was beginning to see the futility of her arguments, she doubted that it would hurt to make a few more attempts. "I could be buying it for someone else!"
Maggie shook her head. "Someone else? And yet you're the one who looks like she's about to upchuck. That is one of the first symptoms, right? Nausea?"
After receiving wide stares from the two, it dawned on Maggie that her words clearly weren't the right ones to say. So she fumbled with an addition to her statement, giving Emilie an awkward smile. "But... but it's also a symptom of PMS. Which, as your ex-roommate, I know you get. A lot. So there. Just let us do it. We won't even be five minutes."
As Emilie watched them enter the drugstore, she could feel her nerves eat away at her; every second they took seemed like a half-hour. As oddly fearful and uncomfortable as she was, Emilie still managed to laugh at her mind's attempt of being melodramatic. Maybe Evi was right. Maybe living with Dom was just meddling with her brain, making her imagination go haywire.
A tap against her window snapped Emilie out of her thoughts, and a sense of relief quickly washed over her; the sight of her two friends back, the deed done, was a welcome one.
"Alright, let's go home," Maggie announced as soon as she and Evi settled back in the car, her voice almost happy-sounding.
Emilie looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Don't we still have wedding-related errands to run? This can wait, really. 'Til later."
"Of course it can," Evi calmly nodded, putting her seatbelt on as Maggie started the car. "You do that whenever you're ready. But there's something Maggie and I found, and she decided that it couldn't wait."
Once she'd said it, Evi took something out of the plastic bag she carried, and dropped it into Emilie's lap.
"The latest issue of Vanity Fair was released today," Maggie said with a grin that was only a tiny bit forced, keeping her eyes on the road. Seeing how Emilie clearly wasn't ready to take the test they'd purchased, she hoped that this would distract her until she was. "I want to know how our article and our photoshoot came out."
---
"Just do it already," Emilie whispered to herself, pathetically covering her face and trying to get the world to stop spinning. It isn't going to get easier the longer you wait.
Delaying, stalling, buying time, none of it could make this any easier. Whether it was going to be good or bad, this was going to change her life. Completely. Just the mere thought, the mere possibility of it wasn't easy to swallow, not to mention everything else, every specific detail of her life that'd be turned upside down because of this.
Emilie sat on the cover of the toilet with the test in her hands. The box was open but she hadn't dared going any farther then that. Instructions were on the back; the words swam in front of her eyes as her stomach clenched with nerves, her teeth digging painfully into her lower lip.
She finally relented when she tasted blood.
This couldn't be avoided forever.
Three minutes, that's all it took, quick and painless. Three minutes of waiting and wondering if she was about to become a mum, three minutes of coming up with a thousand different scenarios for telling Dom, three minutes of images flashing through her mind of her mother's disappointed expression and a baby crying and Dom playing with the babies on set.
"Oh god," Emilie covered her face again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Dom."
She could have told him; she could have called him on set and asked him to come home and told him what was going on, what she thought they got themselves into. It would've been better, she knew that much, to have him there with her.
But she couldn't make the call; even when she got as far as holding the phone in her hands. Now it was stuffed in a drawer, her train of thought being to get it out of her sight as soon as possible.
No need to worry him needlessly, that was her logic for putting the phone away. And she was sure this worry was needless, she was sure it was just paranoia. Periods had been late in the past and the world hadn't come crashing down. She didn't need Dom freaking out, she could handle this on her own, she was a strong, independent woman, oh god, why was she crying, why couldn't she stop?
---
It was positive.
TBC...
Authors: CJ [vylentcrymz], Emilie [emilierevan], Jen [savvy_elf] and Stacy [seemedsobright].
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dominic Monaghan/Emilie de Ravin, Ian Somerhalder/Maggie Grace, Orlando Bloom/Evangeline Lilly
Summary: Love. Friendship. Growth. Sex. Change. Drama. But mostly just sex. Sure, we have a plot… somewhere around here (now where did I put that thing?), but when broken down into its simplest form, Epico = SEX!
Disclaimer: We don't own these people. They're real, sure, but none of these events have or ever will transpire. No offense is meant and we're making no profit from this. Title taken from the song A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos.
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.
Previous Chapters
---
The mattress groaned a little as Ian sat down. All Maggie could see out of the corner of her eye as she continued to stare up at the ceiling was his disheveled hair, but she could certainly hear him sigh.
"What's wrong, baby?"
He ran a hand over his face and looked over his shoulder at her, smiling a little. "Nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, today was a long day, that's all." His hand reached out and touched hers as it rested on her stomach. "Did you decide?"
Maggie turned over to face him, shaking her head. "I sat at that table and stared at those damn brochures for about three hours and I still can't."
"Well," Ian kicked off his shoes and laid down. "We'll look at them some more later. It can't be too hard finding a place suitable enough to be the location of our wedding. It just has to be, you know, perfect in every single imaginable way."
"You don't have to, you know, you already did most of the work narrowing it down to the three." She kissed his temple.
His hand squeezed hers as he shook his head, "Despite what the media might say about grooms not wanting any part in the wedding planning, I do want some part in this, Mags."
"It's like Pandora's Box, saying something like that." Maggie smiled as she moved closer, wrapping an arm around his stomach and pressing her lips against his pulse point. "Telling me you wanna be a part of the whole planning process means I'll be bugging you in the middle of the night about whether we she should have roses or lilies."
Ian half-groaned, half-laughed. "You're right, that's not really why I wanna be woken up in the middle of the night."
Maggie smiled against his neck, "And why do you want to be woken up, Mr. Somerhalder?"
"I can think of a number of reasons, Mrs. Somerhalder."
"Mmm, not Mrs. Somerhalder yet," she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, her smile widening. "It's gonna be great though, when it happens."
Ian shook his head, blue eyes sparkling. "It's gonna be amazing."
She kissed him sweetly, only to have him wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close, deepening the kiss. When they pulled away, barely a breath apart, they both smiled like idiots.
"Speaking of how amazing it's going to be, how's everything going? I mean, your mom--"
"My mom insists on flying out early enough to help as much as she possibly can with this thing."
"That's good, what about everybody else?"
"Well, Marisa and her irrational fear of flying aren't gonna be here till a few days before, just in time for rehearsals and all that."
"You should just drug her to get her on a plane," Ian laughed when she smacked him. "I was kidding. Drugging little sisters is bad."
"She's excited about meeting you, so you better be nice."
"I'm always nice."
Maggie lifted her head to look at him, narrowing her eyes. "Oh, like you were just a second ago?"
"I'm pretty sure she can take a joke, Mags." Ian pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, fighting hard not to show how relieved he was when her face melted almost instantaneously. "What about your dad and Ian 2.0?"
"First of all, if we're gonna be using that nickname, he insists we use it for you."
Ian scoffed, "Oh really?"
"Yes, really. I mean, you do want his approval, right? I don't know if I've told you but--"
"The Denig family is an insanely protective family, I think I got it. The last thing I want is to get pummeled by your brother." Ian poked his tongue out at her. "Okay, how about...Em and Evi?"
Maggie sighed, running a hand over her face. "I made the list of stuff to do for them but things have been so hectic, I keep forgetting to give it to them."
"You should, you know. Having this entire wedding on your shoulders is gonna break you," Ian kissed her forehead. "And I can't return a broken wife."
Maggie snorted and smacked his arm. "Jerk."
"I knew I should've gotten that warranty."
"You couldn't return me if you tried."
"Like I said, shoulda gotten that damn warranty."
Resigning to the fact that, despite his exhaustion, Ian was in the kind of mood where it was best he be ignored, Maggie lowered her head back onto his shoulder, taking comfort in the even rise and fall of his chest and the beat of his heart against her ear.
"So, I mean, how are your two BFFs doing?"
"BFFs?"
"Best friends forever!" Ian explained, shaking his head. "God, didn't you go to high school?"
"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not as girly as you are."
Ian wasn't fazed, "I wouldn't think I'm girly based on the way you sound when I make you co--"
"Alright, alright, you win." Maggie yawned despite herself. "I'm tired, my insults aren't top-notch. Give a girl a break."
"I'm tired but my wit is as quick as ever, Mags." He didn't even have to look down to know she was rolling her eyes. Excessively. "So...okay. What were talking about? Right, Emilie and Evi. They're helping you out, right? They should--"
"I still need to talk to them about all the stuff left to do, but so far, everything's copasetic. Set's getting kind of frantic lately, though."
"Yeah? Seemed fine when I dropped by the other day." Ian said in an even voice. He made it a point to still visit Maggie on the set, knowing he could easily avoid going there altogether, but still didn't visit as frequently as was possible.
"It's not too bad, a lot of long hours for everyone. But we're enjoying the babies on set for Turniphead. Emilie's really loved working with them."
"Yeah, I saw her and Dom the other day." Ian stroked Maggie's hair. "I don't mean this in a bad way but I never thought of them as the first couple to get baby crazy."
"They're not." Maggie yawned again. "It's just a natural thing to be all melty and giggly around babies. You're that way too."
"I'm neither melty nor giggly."
"You so are."
"Fine, I am. But in a manly way."
"Oh, of course, you were looking like a real man making faces and gurgly noises at that baby in the mall yesterday."
"You loved it."
"I did," Maggie answered immediately, honestly. A moment of comfortable silence passed while they both thought of the same things. When she spoke again, there was a certain airiness to her voice. "Ian?"
"Yeah, Mags?" His voice was just as soft.
"We've never...you know, really talked about--"
"Two, maybe three," Ian whispered suddenly. Maggie lifted her head to look at him, eyes glistening as she watched with fixed attention. "Hopefully a girl first, but I won't complain either way."
"You--" Maggie paused, completely taken aback but smiling from ear to ear. "You're amazing."
"I really am," he said back, desperately trying to keep a straight face but then losing it when he winked, laughing.
"Amazing with the exception of being so not funny."
"But I make up for that part, don't I?"
Maggie shrugged sportively. "I guess."
He made a discomforted noise and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. "I love you so much, Mags."
She smiled against his shirt. "Love you too."
---
"I've known her longer."
With a smug little smile playing at her lips, Evi slammed her plate down on a table already occupied by Dom and Emilie. Orlando followed behind, placing his plate much more calmly beside hers and taking a seat. Some of the cast had a rare respite from filming and had taken the chance to descend upon the craft services trailer, situated advantageously on the beach. A few cheap plastic patio tables and matching chairs dotted the shore, most of the chairs occupied by hungry members of the cast or crew.
"Afternoon, Dom." Orlando nodded to him in greeting.
"Hey, mate." Dom nodded back, and the two men turned their attention to their lunches, apparently oblivious to the death glares their girlfriends were giving each other. By now they were immune to this argument; it had been going on behind Maggie's back since the day after Ian proposed.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Emilie asked.
Evi sat down and popped a grape into her mouth. "I've known Maggie longer than you have, thus, I deserve to be her Maid of Honor."
"Bullshit!" Emilie scowled. "How have you known her longer? We all met at the same time, here on set, the first day of rehearsals for the pilot."
"Maggie and I parked next to each other, and I almost side-swiped her car," Evi explained. "I apologized, and we introduced ourselves to each other, and walked onto set together. I've known her a good ten to fifteen minutes longer than you have!"
"This is absolutely absurd, Evi," Emilie declared. "You need to stop grasping at straws and admit defeat. Maggie is going to name me her Maid of Honor because she and I are best friends."
"You think you're better friends with Maggie than I am?" Evi raised an eyebrow and Emilie shrugged, digging to get the last bit of yogurt out of the plastic container. "That's just..."
"A correct assumption?" Emilie gave Evi an innocent expression before her spoon disappeared into her mouth.
Evi rolled her eyes. "How can you even measure something like that?"
"All signs point to it, Evikins. Look, being a bridesmaid will be fun! I'm sure you'll have a ball. And you'll have plenty of other opportunities to be a Maid of Honor at other weddings. Just not Maggie's." Emilie smiled sweetly and started peeling an orange.
"What do you think about this?" Evi poked Orlando's shoulder. He looked up from his sandwich, trying too hard to look innocently unaware. "Both of you. Who do you think deserves to be Maggie's Maid of Honor?"
Dom and Orlando looked at each other, both of them swallowing hard.
"Ah. Wow. That's, uh, quite the question, Evi," Dom said with a nervous chuckle. He glanced at Emilie and actually winced when he felt the full force of her glare hit him.
"This is a really tasty sandwich," Orlando commented. "Kudos to your catering team, they do a bang-up job. Gotta try this potato salad, just look at it."
"Yeah, they keep us well fed around here," Dom said, nodding in agreement.
"And hey, look at the craftsmanship of this... they call it a spork, don't they?" Orlando held the plastic utensil up.
"Yeah, that's what it's known as. Combination of the words spoon and fork. They could've gone with, you know, foon or something. But spork was more popular. Internet polls or something."
"Ingenious."
"Oh, don't be pussies about it," Emilie spat. "Just answer the question."
Dom popped a potato chip in his mouth and crunched loudly, gesturing wildly at his ears as though to say he couldn't hear Emilie.
"Orlando, please. This is important. Just be honest. Who should Maggie pick, Emilie or me?" Evi asked, putting her hand on top of Orlando's.
"Oh, bloody hell!" Orlando's spork 'accidentally' slipped from his grasp and fell into the sand. "Now I've got my spork all sandy! How'm I supposed to eat this delicious potato salad with no spork!"
"You need a new one," Dom said.
"There's an observant lad." Orlando stood up slowly and gave Dom an exaggerated wink. "Too bad I don't know where the extra sporks are kept."
"Well, my boy, it's your lucky day, since I happen to know exactly where they are kept. If you'll just follow me, I'll make your wildest spork dreams come true."
Dom and Orlando couldn't get away fast enough, and Emilie and Evi sighed and rolled their eyes at their retreating backs.
---
The arguing continued even after the workday was over and the set was long behind them, only now there was no Orlando, no Dom, no other castmates and crew to harrass. The smarter people knew that spoons, forks, sporks and all kinds of cutlery were good to use as distractions. Those who didn't know about Orlando's genius techniques had to find other ways to run away without being impolite.
Malcolm had seized the opportunity to bribe the two women, telling them he'd give an honest answer if they supplied him with candy and maybe an iPod. Much to his disappointment they didn't take the bait.
Now they stood facing each other in Maggie and Ian's living room, hands on hips and lips slightly pouted. They were supposed to be helping Maggie plan her wedding but she seemed to be handling things just fine on her own in the kitchen, and they had decided that it was time to settle this argument once and for all, no matter if it led to nail-clawing or hair-pulling.
"I just think it's time to accept that you won't be chosen," Emilie was saying, flipping her hair. "It's not healthy for you to be so delusional."
"And I think there's no need to get bitter that I'm going to be Maggie's Maid of Honor." Evi replied, standing her ground and raising an eyebrow at the blonde.
"What are you talking about?" Eyes narrowing dangerously, Emilie stood up straight in an attempt to match the older woman's height. "I was her roommate! Her friend! Her confidante! It's obvious that I should be the Maid of Honor."
"You were sick of each other by the end! I thought you kicked her for a condom, and now you're expecting her to just hand over such a nice and important position? Pathetic!"
Emilie snorted loudly. "Like she needs a control freak running amok on her wedding day."
"This is absolutely ridiculous," Evi said finally. "We're fighting like a pair of teenagers who both like the same boy."
"Hah! I would never compare Maggie to a boy, I win!"
Struggling not to strangle Emilie to death, Evi gave up and went for the only solution she knew. "Maggie!"
Maggie, passing through the living room on her way to to look up a few things on the web, came to a halt at Evi's insistent tone and slowly backtracked, poking her head in through the doorway. "Hmm?" She replied absently, mind still distracted with locations, locations, locations.
Standing next to each other, Evi with her long dark hair, sunkissed skin and freckles, Emilie with her blonde locks up in a simple ponytail and fair skin, they looked quite the pair as they both watched Maggie with somewhat hopeful expressions.
"Look, it's gotten to boiling point, and we both just need this sorted out once and for all," Emilie told her firmly.
"Need what sorted out? Guys, I have a lot of stuff to sort out, I can't just-"
Evi held her hand up to interrupt her. "Have you chosen your Maid of Honor?"
"My..." Maggie laughed, lightly smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Did I not tell you guys?"
"Obviously not," Emilie pointed out.
"I didn't even have to choose, it was always going to be my little sister Marisa. God, I've been so stressed I didn't even think, I'm so sorry!"
Suddenly Evi and Emilie were aware of both the embarrassment they felt and the irony that they had been trying to see who was the better friend, when neither had been good enough to remember that Maggie's own family might just possibly know her better than anyone.
"It's okay." Evi broke the silence and gave them both a small, awkward smile. "At least it's all cleared up, yeah?"
Emilie nodded in agreement. "Right! Of course it'll be your sister, we're the ones at fault for not thinking." Seeing that Maggie was obviously distracted, Emilie's voice turned softer. "Maggie, is there anything you need help with? We should be helping you, not stressing you out more."
"You know, for now, I think I'm okay," Maggie answered. "I really am sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner, it just toally slipped my mind."
"No, we understand, it's fine," Evi assured her. "Really, Mags, it's your wedding, you call the shots. And we're here for you, whenever you need anything."
"We'll be the best bridesmaids ever," Emilie swore.
"Thanks, you guys. Really." Maggie smiled. "Actually, it'd be nice to go check out some bridal stores this weekend, start looking at dresses and styles and all that. D'you want to come with?"
"Are you kidding? Spending hours ooohing and aaahhhing over gorgeous wedding dresses?" Emilie asked. "I'm there!"
"Me, too," Evi nodded.
"Great! We can all go this weekend. Thanks for understanding about the Maid of Honor thing. My sister, Marisa, she's so excited about it."
"Is she flying in to come with us dress-shopping?"
Maggie shook her head, laughing. "Marisa? As much as she's gonna enjoy coming out here for the wedding and meeting Ian, she's scared shitless of flying. We'll go shopping this weekend, pick out one or two we really like and I'll talk to her about it. No biggie, she won't be picky."
"As long as you don't force her into some big, fluffy, brown-colored monstrosity, eh?"
"I'm sure we all will be fine as long as it doesn't come to that," Emilie commented.
---
"You should've seen the looks on their faces," Maggie laughed, then stopped herself, hiding her smile behind the cup of coffee Ian had handed her. "Am I evil for finding it funny?"
"No," Ian laughed himself. "With all that's been going on, you deserve to laugh your ass off at Emilie and Evi making fools of themselves. I would've."
"Of course you would've, you lived with Dom."
Ian grinned from ear to ear, "I can use that as an excuse for pretty much anything, can't I?"
"Basically," she confirmed with a nod. She took a sip of coffee, looking at Ian over the rim of the mug. "How was your day? Make any headway in the wedding plans?"
"I'm glad you asked," Ian grinned, standing up and walking around so that he was behind her, his chest pressed lightly against her back. He took the coffee mug out of her hand, placing it on the kitchen counter.
"Close your eyes," he whispered in her ear, holding her hips and guiding her slowly down the hallway.
"Why? Where're we going?"
"No questions."
Maggie snorted, "Did you just meet me or something? As if I'm going to shut up--"
His hand covered her mouth and he laughed under his breath. "I wanna show you something but I don't want you to see it till we get there."
"What is it?" she said against the inside of his hand.
"Where we're going to get married."
"Yeah?" Maggie tried to shake away his hand, hoping he could feel her smiling brightly against it. He actually decided on a place?
"Yeah. You're going to love it." There was a hesitation, and in her mind's eye Maggie could see him bite his lower lip, apprehension in his eyes. "At least, I hope you'll love it. If not, I mean, just tell me, and we can both agree that I suck as a wedding planner, and you can take over and be Bridezilla and do everything yourself, so..."
"Ian?"
"Yeah, Mags?" He lifted his hand just enough to let her speak.
"You can stop rambling and just show me the place. Then we'll be able to decide who gets to be Bridezilla."
"Right."
A few more steps; the sound of the sliding glass door opening. Maggie's forehead creased and she opened her mouth to ask why he had to take her outside, couldn't he just show her the brochure? Ian's hand pressed over her mouth again before a sound could escape and she felt his breath pass over her ear when he whispered, "Shhh. Just wait a sec."
They were on the patio now, and Ian stopped her just before the railing.
"Okay, open."
Maggie's eyes opened. She saw... nothing. Just the calm ocean, waves rolling up onto the shore, the moonlight bathing the beach in silver.
"Ian?"
"You hate it. God, I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, it was just a stupid idea I had, I thought it was kind of sentimental but you're right, it was just..." He exhaled sharply, the force of the air making her hair move. His hands played with the hem of her t-shirt, thumbs slipping beneath the material to press into her hips.
"Ian."
"Mags?"
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Um. It's our backyard, Maggie. You've been there before. You might particularly recall the night we drank too much wine and ended up--"
"Yeah, I remember that night. It was a damn good night." Maggie turned around, her expression softening and a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of her lips. "You want to get married here? In our backyard?"
He scratched the back of his neck and looked at her almost sheepishly. "I guess it was just a stupid idea..."
She surprised him by cutting him off with a deep, enthusiastic kiss, her hands cupping the sides of his face to hold him in place.
"I, uh... Mags?" Ian looked at her in complete confusion when she finally pulled back.
"Perfect," Maggie breathed, breathless but not hesitating before going in for another kiss.
---
"What's on the agenda, by the way?"
"Well, bridesmaids dresses," Maggie motioned to Evi and Emilie. "Obviously."
Emiie stuck her tongue out at her. "What else, I mean?"
"Well, if we manage to pick out dresses today then I'll make sure Marisa can find one back home and we'll set up the dying of the shoes and purses if they don't match. And, if we can get it in, try to figure out the color configuration so it matches the dresses. Or the other way around, figure out the color of the flowers and the wedding and have the dresses match that."
Emilie made a face, "I get a headache just thinking about it."
"Try getting inside my head." Maggie rubbed her temple for a moment, firming her jaw before settling back into the conversation. "Okay, so hopefully next weekend we'll have the flowers figured out and the 22nd is when my mom's flying in."
Evi stopped her with a quick wave of her hand. "Wait, wait. I thought today was the twenty-second."
"Today's the fifteenth which means next Sunday is the twenty-second," Maggie rolled her eyes playfully. "God, Evi, do Canadians have a different math system or something? Two plus two equals--"
Evi smacked her, only a little less playfully. "I'd love for us to go a day where no one makes fun of my homeland."
"Why? It's just so much fun!" Emilie snorted.
"Shouldn't we make fun of Maggie or something? She's American, they do everything wrong."
Maggie's mouth dropped open and she gasped. But then, a half-second later, as though just realizing that she was in the power seat, her eyes narrowed and a smug grin spread across her features. "You do realize that, as the bride, I'm in charge of what you'll be wearing on my wedding day, right? While these dresses are pretty enough, I might want to go in the direction of..." She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it. "Hot pink?"
Evi visibly winced. "But...but that wouldn't go with the--"
"I'll make it work," Maggie flashed her a dangerous smile. "So...what were you saying about me being American?"
Giving her a look that clearly said, 'You win this round, but later...', Evi turned to Emilie for support. Maggie looked over at the same time to see that Emilie's face had fallen slightly, as if something was dawning on her. "Emilie?"
"Today's the fifteenth?" At Evi's and Maggie's nods she distractedly lifted a hand up, touching her chin as she thought. "Are you sure?"
"We could go get a calendar for you if you'd like," Evi tried to joke, but even she could tell that something was weighing heavily on Emilie's mind. "Why, what's today?"
"Nothing," Emilie shook her head, brushing it off. "I'm just--just being paranoid. That's all."
"Did you forget to do something? I swear, living with Dom had meddled with your brain."
Emilie looked over to her at the mention of Dom so sharply it looked like it hurt.
Evi lifted her dress up and walked down the small steps to Emilie. "Emilie, you look ready to v--"
"It's nothing! Just..." She bit her lip and ran a hand over her face. "I'm a little late, that's all."
"Late for what? Did you have to be somewhere?" Maggie's brow furrowed. "I thought you guys cleared your weekend so we could get all of this done?"
"No, no." Emilie waved a hand, stopping her. She gently lowered herself onto the nearest surface before standing right back up, not being able to make up her mind. "I'm not that kind of late. I'm...I'm the other kind of late."
"Oh." Maggie and Evi breathed the word as one. They glanced at each other over Emilie's head, their eyes wide with sudden understanding.
"You're probably right. About being paranoid," Evi said, laying her hand on Emilie's shoulder. "It doesn't have to mean anything."
"But I'm never this late. My period is obsessive about being on time. Well, it was nearly a week late one time, but that was back in junior high when I barely knew what a French kiss was, so I knew I had nothing to worry about back then." Emilie broke off, forcing herself to take a deep breath. It did little to calm her. "Every once in awhile it'll be a day or two off, but..."
"How late are you?" Maggie asked softly, aware that the proprieter of the bridal shop was looking a them, wondering why Emilie was sitting down and wrinkling the one-of-a-kind creation she had been trying on. She subtly shifted her weight so that her back was to the woman and Emilie was hidden from view.
"About three days, I think. Nearing four," Emilie breathed.
"But you and Dom always..." Evi glanced around. They were still the only women in the shop, but that dressmaker was glaring daggers at them by now. Her voice dropped below a whisper. "I mean, you used... right?"
Emilie's eyes closed. "There were... a few times." She swallowed hard. "God, guys, what will I do if... if..."
Evi shook her head. "No, don't. Don't start speculating and obsessing over all the 'what ifs.' You'll drive yourself mad."
"Evi's right. Don't start freaking out until you know anything for sure," Maggie said. Her voice dropped, wanting to be gentle and discreet. "You two should change out of those dresses, and we'll stop by a drug store to get a test."
Emilie looked at Maggie, both gratitude and fear crossing her expression. A second later she frowned and shook her head. "But this is your weekend, Mags, I can't... there's so much to do for the wedding, and I don't want to..."
Maggie took her firmly by the arm, forcing her to her feet and marching her back to the dressing rooms. "You're going to be agonizing over this until you know, so the sooner the better. Besides, this might end up being just a little more important than a wedding that's still months away. Bridesmaids' dresses can wait a little while."
---
When Maggie shifted the car's gear from 'drive' to 'park,' the three women glanced at one another, saying nothing before glancing up out the window; all of a sudden - especially to Emilie - the drugstore seemed ten times larger, and it even had a portentous quality to it, staring back at her as she looked harder at it.
"Let's get it over and done with," Maggie casually said, unlocking the doors. None of them made any attempt to move, though they were all aware that by putting it off, it'd just agonize Emilie further.
Upon reading the look of increasing fear on Emilie's face, both Maggie and Evi decided that it'd be best if she stayed in the car for this purchase. "We'll be back before you know it," Evi assured her. Emilie only realized what she meant a few seconds later, and quickly shook her head, opening her door and beginning to step out.
"I can't let you two do that," she mumbled, looking slightly cross. "This is my problem. And they know you in there. What'll they think when they see Maggie Grace and Evangeline Lilly - attached to Ian Somerhalder and Orlando Bloom, respectively - buying a pregnancy test?"
"First off, this isn't a problem. Second, they know you in there too, since, in case you'd forgotten, we're all in the same show together. And you're attached to a Dominic Monaghan yourself," Maggie said, pulling her ex-roommate back into the car. "That makes your argument invalid. And them seeing Evi and I getting it is better than them seeing Evi and I watching you get it."
"Then I'll go by myself."
"Which would pinpoint you alone," Evi quickly replied, "Instead of having me and Maggie to choose from."
"It doesn't mean I'm buying it for myself." Though Emilie was beginning to see the futility of her arguments, she doubted that it would hurt to make a few more attempts. "I could be buying it for someone else!"
Maggie shook her head. "Someone else? And yet you're the one who looks like she's about to upchuck. That is one of the first symptoms, right? Nausea?"
After receiving wide stares from the two, it dawned on Maggie that her words clearly weren't the right ones to say. So she fumbled with an addition to her statement, giving Emilie an awkward smile. "But... but it's also a symptom of PMS. Which, as your ex-roommate, I know you get. A lot. So there. Just let us do it. We won't even be five minutes."
As Emilie watched them enter the drugstore, she could feel her nerves eat away at her; every second they took seemed like a half-hour. As oddly fearful and uncomfortable as she was, Emilie still managed to laugh at her mind's attempt of being melodramatic. Maybe Evi was right. Maybe living with Dom was just meddling with her brain, making her imagination go haywire.
A tap against her window snapped Emilie out of her thoughts, and a sense of relief quickly washed over her; the sight of her two friends back, the deed done, was a welcome one.
"Alright, let's go home," Maggie announced as soon as she and Evi settled back in the car, her voice almost happy-sounding.
Emilie looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Don't we still have wedding-related errands to run? This can wait, really. 'Til later."
"Of course it can," Evi calmly nodded, putting her seatbelt on as Maggie started the car. "You do that whenever you're ready. But there's something Maggie and I found, and she decided that it couldn't wait."
Once she'd said it, Evi took something out of the plastic bag she carried, and dropped it into Emilie's lap.
"The latest issue of Vanity Fair was released today," Maggie said with a grin that was only a tiny bit forced, keeping her eyes on the road. Seeing how Emilie clearly wasn't ready to take the test they'd purchased, she hoped that this would distract her until she was. "I want to know how our article and our photoshoot came out."
---
"Just do it already," Emilie whispered to herself, pathetically covering her face and trying to get the world to stop spinning. It isn't going to get easier the longer you wait.
Delaying, stalling, buying time, none of it could make this any easier. Whether it was going to be good or bad, this was going to change her life. Completely. Just the mere thought, the mere possibility of it wasn't easy to swallow, not to mention everything else, every specific detail of her life that'd be turned upside down because of this.
Emilie sat on the cover of the toilet with the test in her hands. The box was open but she hadn't dared going any farther then that. Instructions were on the back; the words swam in front of her eyes as her stomach clenched with nerves, her teeth digging painfully into her lower lip.
She finally relented when she tasted blood.
This couldn't be avoided forever.
Three minutes, that's all it took, quick and painless. Three minutes of waiting and wondering if she was about to become a mum, three minutes of coming up with a thousand different scenarios for telling Dom, three minutes of images flashing through her mind of her mother's disappointed expression and a baby crying and Dom playing with the babies on set.
"Oh god," Emilie covered her face again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Dom."
She could have told him; she could have called him on set and asked him to come home and told him what was going on, what she thought they got themselves into. It would've been better, she knew that much, to have him there with her.
But she couldn't make the call; even when she got as far as holding the phone in her hands. Now it was stuffed in a drawer, her train of thought being to get it out of her sight as soon as possible.
No need to worry him needlessly, that was her logic for putting the phone away. And she was sure this worry was needless, she was sure it was just paranoia. Periods had been late in the past and the world hadn't come crashing down. She didn't need Dom freaking out, she could handle this on her own, she was a strong, independent woman, oh god, why was she crying, why couldn't she stop?
---
It was positive.
TBC...