Beauty In The Eye Of The Beholder - Part Two
Title: Beauty In The Eye Of The Beholder
Pairing: Dom/Elijah
Rating: PG13-R, PG-13 this part
Part: Two
Disclaimer: No I don't own them, yes this is made up.
Feedback: As always, any feedback (inc. CC) is welcome.
Notes: AU. Comes from a plot bunny by cara_dee that I read and couldn't stop thinking about: "A modern day beauty and the beast. Lij is in England, and Dom is a man who has been on his own for a very long time. These two, the beauty and the beast, come together, and give one another just what each need." So I adopted the bunny, and here it is. This will be a series - updates short but regular. :)
Prologue
Part One
“Ouch, fuck.” Dom dipped the blade into the sink, and watched with disgusted fascination as a swirl of blood curled into the water. He raised the blade back to his cheek and scraped it down over the stubble. He splashed his face with water, and then glanced in the mirror.
He shocked himself.
Dom tilted his head a little to one side, then to the other, examining his jaw, trying not to focus on the bigger picture. He looked so much like his old self that it hurt to look. He managed to dab at the specks of blood across his chin without focusing on his actual features at all, which he thought, wryly, was quite an achievement.
The next step was getting dressed. Dom looked over the shirt and trousers he’d laid out and ironed last night. Were they too formal? He tried to remember what Elijah had been wearing when he’d come. The trench coat, he remembered that...and...jeans? Trousers? Smart shoes? Dom gave up wracking his brains. Considering that these were the only clothes he had that were aired and pressed, and that weren’t an ancient band t-shirt teamed with baggy nineties flared jeans, they would have to do.
He was only just ready when the doorbell rang.
Sure enough, it was Elijah, standing ready with a gap-toothed smile. He was wearing the trench coat again, Dom noticed, and dark jeans. Not smart shoes, but scuffed boots.
“Hi!” Elijah said. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks.” Even to Dom’s own ears, his voice was still gruff from underuse.
“Good,” Elijah said, as Dom ushered him in. “You have a beautiful house, Mr Monaghan - when was it built?”
“1788,” Dom said. “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”
“Whatever you’re having - tea, please - wow. This place is huge, isn’t it?” Dom turned his head, still walking, to see Elijah stopped in the wide hallway, eyes lifted to the high ceiling and the sets of doors leading off into the house’s other rooms.
Dom gave a quick laugh, not entirely forced. “The sitting room is through here,” he said, opening a door on the left of the hallway. “If you’d like to make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right in.” It was going rather well so far, he thought. Elijah didn’t seem nervous or shy, and he himself was doing quite a good job of looking as though he regularly had visitors. He watched Elijah enter the room and head for the mantelpiece to examine the Victorian painting hanging above it, and then shook himself and headed for the kitchen.
While the kettle whistled on the stove, Dom laid two cups and saucers edged in gilt onto a floral tray, and tried to ignore the nervousness in his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone in the house, he reflected, taking the teapot that he’d washed earlier out and laying it on the tray too.
When he went back through to Elijah, his guest was standing by the large bay window, looking out over the acres of garden. He turned and gave Dom a smile. Dom returned it, hoping it didn’t look too unnatural, and set the tea tray down onto the small coffee-table in between two velvet-covered sofas.
“Thanks,” Elijah said warmly, turning away from the glass and coming to sit down. Dom took the sofa opposite, and reached to pour out the tea. His hand shook just slightly, and he hoped Elijah hadn’t seen.
In any case, Elijah began to talk. “I really appreciate you letting me ask you some questions. My grandparents were from around here, you see - they migrated to America back in the 1930s. My grandma always said what a beautiful place it was and that if ever I got a chance to come and see it, I should definitely take it.” He accepted his teacup and saucer from Dom, and added a liberal amount of milk, giving it a quick stir with an engraved silver teaspoon. “At home I’m a journalist, and I thought while I was here I might as well write down the local history, and see if I can’t get it published.”
“Ah. Right,” Dom said, stirring a fortifying three sugar lumps into his tea. Perhaps not quite as good as Dutch courage, but getting there, he thought. “Well, I hope you find lots of interesting information.”
“Thanks,” Elijah said, with a small smile. “I don’t really know my way around or anything, so I just went on what was written in my grandma’s old journal that she kept when she lived here. She mentioned this house a few times - has it been in your family a long time?”
“Yes,” Dom answered. He tried to think of something interesting to say, but years of not conversing with anyone about anything were taking their toll. He felt the inside of his mouth drying up, so took a sip of tea - which, oddly, only seemed to worsen the problem.
“You don’t mind if I take some notes, do you, while we talk? And some photos, before I go?” Elijah was already fidgeting in his pocket, and extracted a cheap blue ballpoint pen triumphantly.
“Not at all,” Dom said, and watched as Elijah flipped open his notebook.
“So was it your family that built this house?”
“Yes - the land was in my family for centuries, and then my ancestors came into money in the late 1700’s,” Dom said. If there was one thing he was knowledgeable about, it was his family’s history. “They decided to build a big country house - it was a farm before that, and stayed a farm for quite a while after. I think it was only at the start of the 1900s when the farm was closed down.”
“And you’ve lived here all your life?”
Dom nodded, sipped his tea awkwardly. Elijah was watching him attentively, his head cocked curiously to one side, pen poised. “Yeah,” Dom said. “I was born here.”
Elijah raised his eyebrows in polite interest. “What, actually in the house?” From his tone of voice, though, the interest didn’t seem feigned at all.
Dom nodded again. “I was born three weeks early - my mother didn’t make it to hospital in time.” He let out a dry chuckle.
“And you’ve been here ever since,” Elijah added, with a grin. “Tell me, what school did you go to? The local one, or...”
“I went to the local primary school,” Dom said, and rather strangely, began to feel more at ease. “I could tell you some stories about small rural primary schools in the eighties, if you'd like.”
“I would,” Elijah replied brightly, and sat back against the sofa, the nib of his pen resting against the notebook, waiting for action.
***
“And then that was me finished at Lakeview, and I ended up going to the grammar school in - ” And Dom was cut off as a loud buzzing noise erupted from Elijah’s pocket.
“Sorry!” Elijah exclaimed, hand flying for his phone. He pulled it out, while saying, “Do you mind if I take this?”
“Not at all,” Dom said, though he felt slightly, inexplicably, disappointed. He had enjoyed the last while, talking to Elijah and laughing with him over small things about his primary school that Dom himself had thought he’d forgotten. Now, with a glance at the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the room, he was surprised to see that over two hours had passed since he’d let Elijah in.
“Yes...I am really sorry....” Elijah had his little black phone pressed to his ear, and had abandoned his notebook and biro in order to strum his fingers lightly on the dark denim covering his thigh. “Honestly, I just forgot...I’ll be right there. Bye.” He pressed a button on the phone and gave Dom an apologetic glance.
“I’m sorry,” he said, fidgeting with the phone. “I completely forgot I had a lunch appointment with some people who live around here. It’s a woman who was friends with my grandma, and her daughter - I was hoping she might have some stories to tell. I’m sorry to be leaving you though - it was really interesting talking to you.”
Dom felt a completely unfamiliar wrench in his stomach, and it took him a moment to figure out that it was pride.
“I enjoyed it too,” he said, as Elijah rose and slipped on his coat again. Dom got to his feet as well, and they left the room, heading for the front door.
“Hey, maybe we could do it again some time?” Elijah’s eyes were shining. “I mean, I bet you’ve still got a lot of stories...would you mind much if I did come again? Or we could go and have a drink one night or something?” He gave Dom a hopeful look.
Dom felt the beginnings of a blush heating up his cheeks. “Erm...”
Elijah’s cheeks suddenly flushed a light rose pink. “God, sorry - not as a date, just to talk...Don’t worry, I’m not trying to take advantage or anything...” He let out a nervous laugh that Dom joined in with.
“I didn’t think you were,” he admitted. “When do you have free time then?”
Elijah tapped the screen of his phone and Dom could see that it threw up a schedule.
“Tomorrow evening?” Elijah asked.
Dom pretended to wrack his brains, then nodded. “Tomorrow should be fine.”
“Let me buy you a drink?” Elijah wheedled, the blush beginning to fade a little, replaced with a small smile.
Dom returned it. “Do you know the Black Swan? It’s the pub in the centre of the village - ”
Elijah nodded - a tad too quickly. At Dom’s slightly disbelieving face, he laughed and amended, “I’ll find it, don’t worry. Shall we say 8-ish?”
“Sounds good,” Dom said, and opened the front door. “I’ll see you then.”
“Right. Bye then, and thanks!” Elijah answered, and went for his car with a definite spring in his step.