FIC: "Time Of Our Lives" - Sean and Elijah - PG - Part Four of Six
Deepest thanks to kelikala for her amazing artistry in aging our beloved boys
15 years for the banners and icons used in this series.
Title: 'Time Of Our Lives' (Part Four of Six)
Author: Rakshi
Rating: Overall: NC-17. This section: PG
Pairing: Sean Astin/Elijah Wood, Dom/Billy (implied), Alexandra/Orlando (implied)
Summary: Elijah begins his new project and for the moment things seem calm... then Orlando drops a bomb and surprising new influences enter their lives.
Author's Notes: There aren't enough words to thank my dear friend, abandonada, for her professional quality editing of my story. Every suggestion she makes is a winner and I couldn't get along without her. Posting part four on Tuesday because I'm in Michigan on vacation and might be busy tomorrow. Hope you all enjoy!!
'Time Of Our Lives' is the forth part of the Sean and Elijah 'Time' series. In the first story, ' Time', Sean and Elijah were reunited after a ten year separation and rediscovered their enduring love for one another. In the second story of the series, ' Time To Be Us', they deal with their inner fears and determined the course of their future together, in the third story ' Time After Time' they struggled to bring that future to fruition against some pretty overwhelming odds, and now in 'Time Of Our Lives' they discover that even after 20 years, there are still things that they can learn about each other, about themselves, and about their relationship.
Also posted to astinwood, fellow_shippers, andlotrip_all_fic so please forgive any duplication.
Previous chapters:
'Time Of Our Lives - Part One'
Time Of Our Lives - Part Two
Time Of Our Lives - Part Three
Disclaimer: This story is a work of satirical fantasy about public figures. It is completely fictional. I make no assertions about the actual private life or the sexual orientation of any person mentioned in this work.
Now I've had the time of my life
No I never felt like this before
Yes I swear it's the truth
And I owe it all to you
Elijah's second meeting with the play's producers and director had been going on for some time, but thus far he hadn't contributed much to the conversation. Everything relevant had been decided earlier that day at their first meeting. This was all just rehash and tinkering with numbers, and his mind was wandering, preoccupied with thoughts of Sean. Bored and restless, he was finding it hard to follow along with the rather dry negotiations Martin was conducting with the play's producers.
Glancing up he saw the director, Deacon Christopher, staring at him. Noticing Elijah's glance, he smiled and shook his head in commiseration, seeming to indicate that he also found the proceedings a bit boring. Then he smiled and gave a conspiratorial wink.
Elijah looked quickly down, but in spite of himself his eyes were drawn again and again to the dark-haired director. He was extraordinarily handsome, with a dazzling smile. During their introduction he had seemed somewhat intimidated by Elijah's celebrity.
Odd for a successful stage director, Elijah thought, trying in vain to refocus his mind on Martin's dialogue with the producers. He knew that Christopher would be the person he worked with most closely on this project, and he was intensely curious about the kind of man he was and what directing style he preferred.
But he also noticed that Christopher interrupted the proceedings several times to question Martin on points of procedure. His tone had been somewhat condescending and Elijah felt that his inquires were both intrusive and unnecessary. The producers finally looked at him sharply and he backed off, seemingly chastened.
"Well, that's it then," Elijah heard Martin say in a genial tone, shooting a look at the director. "Elijah, if you're happy with the arrangements we can call this settled."
Elijah flushed and tried to look as though he was aware of every detail. "I'd like a chance to look everything over one more time," he said, hoping he could get at least a few hours to look over the contract and question Martin about its contents.
"Sure," Martin said, and turned to the producers. "And if everything's in order can you gentlemen meet us here tomorrow to do the signing?" They agreed and Elijah rose, gathering a sheaf of papers in his hands.
"It's all pretty standard stuff," murmured a voice at his elbow, and turning he saw Deacon Christopher standing next to him. His voice was pitched rather low, and he shrugged as if dismissing the contract as irrelevant.
"Still," Elijah said quietly. "I want a second look." The director was taller than he was, and Elijah found himself looking up into a pair of soft brown eyes that gazed at him with undisguised interest.
"I understand," Christopher said sympathetically. "I'd feel the exact same way. But I wonder...," he paused and drew in a deep breath as if gathering courage then continued. "I wonder if I could possibly convince you to have dinner with me tonight. We could discuss the contract, and perhaps I might be allowed to share my thoughts about your character... you know… how I see him?"
Elijah hesitated, still gazing into Christopher's eyes. He had to admit it was a tempting offer. He was eager to discuss the young director's view of Blair Edwards and curious as to how he planned to approach the role. Elijah was a bit out of his element having never done stage work before, and this seemed a golden opportunity to get an elementary education from the man who could end up being his primary guide in the months ahead.
And yet something nagged at him. Something indefinable. A niggling warning in the pit of his stomach. What is it? he wondered. The director seemed perfectly friendly if a bit over-ambitious.Maybe that's a good thing in a stage director, Elijah mused, and dismissed his unease, chiding himself a bit for giving in to unreasonable anxiety.
"Sure!" he told Christopher, smiling. "I'd love to. I'm at the Ritz-Carlton, shall we save time and just use their dining room?"
Christopher hesitated, then shook his head, blushing furiously. "I apologize, Mr. Wood, but the Ritz is a bit out of my price range. If you don't mind, maybe we could just have coffee?"
Elijah laughed. "No, no. No need to apologize. Dinner's on me!"
The director started to protest but Elijah cut him short. "I insist. I'd appreciate the chance to get your take on the character. And it's 'Elijah'... please."
"Really?"
The man's smile was engaging, though somehow its warmth wasn't reflected in the director's eyes. They remained cool and somewhat calculating. He's an actor too, Elijah thought, in a flash of insight. "Yes, really," he assured the other man. "See you around eight?"
Christopher held out his hand, and Elijah shook it firmly. When he began to withdraw the director hung on, his eyes meeting Elijah's with a look of frank admiration. "Eight it is... Elijah. I'll be looking forward to it."
Flustered, Elijah stepped back and seeing his confusion the director released his hand, smiled reassuringly, and turned to shake hands with Martin.
Elijah edged toward the door, saying his farewells, still feeling a bit bewildered. He knew the director was flirting-no way not to know since Christopher was making no real attempt to hide his interest. And added to the stress and sadness of the past week or so, Christopher's attention left him feeling even more apprehensive than before. What IS it with this guy? he wondered.
It had been so long since anyone other than Sean had been on his radar, even in a manner as casual and flirtatious as this, that he felt a bit rattled by the exchange. Now he almost regretted accepting the director's invitation. And yet he also knew he was going to be there at eight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the other side of the country, Sean was fretting anxiously. He had tried to return Elijah's phone call several times and had left two voice mail messages and had heard nothing in response. He knew Elijah had been in meetings most of the day, and he knew that his habit was to turn his cell phone off at such times. But the meetings should be over with by now, and there was still no word from him.
He wasn't having much luck with phone calls in general that day and was beginning to feel a bit frustrated. He'd also tried to call Orlando and gotten no response in that case either, in spite of having left him an extremely long and apologetic voice mail. Is everybody mad at me? he wondered.
He regretted his conversation with Orlando, but he also couldn't help thinking that their discussion was being a bit over exaggerated. He understood that it was part of the drama flowing from the situation as a whole, most of which didn't even involve him.
He was beginning to realize that he'd spent the past few months of his life indulging his tendency to avoid encounters that might make him even temporarily unpopular with people he loved. He didn't have to ask what his ex-wife would say to this: he knew. Chris had begged him repeatedly to talk to the young couple about their difficulties. But Sean had always demurred, refusing to interfere. He tried to keep the peace and stay friends with both of them, hoping that they could work things out themselves.
He was learning, however, that this so called ‘peace’ came at a very high cost. Stress mounted within him at times like these, and eventually his suppressed feelings erupted at whatever opportunity offered itself, such as his conversation with Orlando and the one he feared he would eventually be forced to have with Elijah.
"And what good does it do me?" Sean muttered aloud. "I usually end up in the exact same situation I was trying to avoid! With everyone pissed at me. Being passive only makes things worse. If I simply talked to them in the first place rather than letting it all build up inside me... I wouldn't end up blowing my stack." He sighed and looked down at his phone, willing it to ring. But the phone remained silent.
"Elijah...," he whispered. "Call me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In his hotel room, Elijah stood staring gloomily at his suitcase. Bereft of Sean's careful packing, his clothes lay in a semi-rumpled pile, and he sighed wearily before rummaging hastily through them, seeking the outfit with the fewest wrinkles to wear to his dinner engagement. He'd been half-listening for his phone hoping that Sean would call, but it had remained silent, and he felt his concern rising.
He tried on a couple of shirts then stopped to ask himself, Why am I getting so spiffed up for this thing? It's just dinner with a director. I've had a million of them. For a long time he stared into the mirror, not really even seeing his reflection. Am I attracted to this guy? he asked himself finally. The image that stared back at him was worriedly chewing his lower lip and frowning. He forced himself to think of Deacon Christopher and then of Sean, giving himself mental permission to compare the two. Then suddenly the image grinned.
"No fucking way!" Elijah said aloud. There was just no comparison. Christopher was attractive; there was no question of that. The man was an intense and forceful presence. But attracted? Attracted in a way that would endanger his relationship with Sean? No. It just wasn't there. Besides, there was something about the man that raised his hackles in a way he simply couldn't define.
Feeling relieved, Elijah whistled, snapped his fingers at the image in the mirror, and left the room to meet up with his director for dinner.
He spotted Christopher as soon as he entered the dining room. He was standing at the bar drinking a glass of wine, watching the door intently. The moment he saw Elijah his face lit up with a brilliant smile. He sat the wine down and walked to his side.
"Evening," he said quietly.
"Hello," Elijah replied, signaling the waiter. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"No. I'm a bit early, in fact."
They were quickly seated, and Elijah ordered a beer before studying the menu. Christopher followed suit.
"Order whatever you want," Elijah told him, indicating the menu. “I've told them to charge it to my room.”
The director laughed. "Pretty pricy stuff. I'm not used to this kind of...," his gesture included the entire dining room, "...ambiance."
Elijah shrugged. "It's just a restaurant."
"It's the Ritz!" Christopher told him, grinning.
Elijah shrugged again. "It's still just a fucking restaurant, Deacon, I don't care if they call it 'Windsor Castle'."
Their beers arrived, and after ordering they sat for a few moment sipping in companionable silence. Finally the director spoke: "Did you get a chance to review it?"
"The contract?"
"Yeah. I guess I'm kind of anxious to know your final decision." He glanced up at Elijah, shyly, through dark lashes. "I don't want to seem over-eager, but..."
"But..." Elijah responded. "But what?"
"But I am."
Elijah's eyes never left those of the man seated across from him. "I love the script. I love the character. I love the idea of doing a stage play."
"And the contract?" Christopher queried. "It meets with your approval?"
"As you pointed out. Pretty standard stuff."
Christopher's eyes were gleaming. "Elijah, you don't know what it means to me to think of directing you in this piece. It's just-just-unimaginable."
Elijah smiled easily. "It's an amazing script. And I love the character. Tell me," he said leaning forward eagerly. "How do you see him before the accident? Worthless? Lost? Just immature? What's your take?"
All through dinner they discussed the play and the character of Blair Edwards. Christopher had clearly given a lot of thought to the character's development and he had, seemingly, already envisioned Elijah in the part.
"I begged them to call you," he said passionately, leaning toward Elijah across the table, his eyes shining. "I knew! I knew from the first time I read the script that it had to be you, Elijah. It just had to be." Then he smiled and blushed... leaning back again. "Sorry," murmured, shaking his head. "I get a bit intense at times."
"There's nothing you need apologize for," Elijah remarked. "I'm in favor of passion."
Christopher leaned forward again, his hand stretching across the table to briefly touch Elijah's. "Are you?" he asked, his voice pitched low, creating a compelling sense of intimacy in the midst of the crowded restaurant.
For a long moment Elijah silently stared into his eyes without moving or speaking. "Deacon," he said finally, "you need to know that I'm in a partnership. A completely committed partnership."
Christopher nodded and withdrew his hand. "I'd heard something..." He tilted his head and smiled ruefully. "... but I'd let myself hope that I'd heard wrong." He quirked an eyebrow as if thinking. "Sean Astin, isn't it? The guy who was with you in Lord of the Rings?"
Elijah nodded. "Also the guy who won an Oscar directing me in Witness to History."
"Evidently a very talented guy."
"That he is," Elijah said, smiling.
"And," Christopher added, "... a damned lucky one."
For the remainder of the dinner, the director's behavior was above reproach. They spent a long time discussing the play, and it quickly became clear that Christopher intended to be very much involved in the creative process. Perhaps even too involved. In theater, the director's role tends to be less important once rehearsals are completed and the play has premiered. At that point the stage manager takes over responsibility for many essential concerns.
"I plan to both direct and stage manage," he told Elijah. "I don't want to leave my artistic choices in someone else's hands once the play has opened. I want to see it through."
For Christopher to assume both roles was an extraordinary move. Even with only a passing knowledge of stage work, Elijah knew that much. For a moment he made no response, studying the director intently, wondering just how much control he intended to exert. Finally he spoke: "Are the actors involved in those choices?"
Christopher took his point at once and smiled. "Elijah, I know your history. You've been a professional actor since you were a child. I respect your experience and your expertise and I want you to be my collaborator in this venture. I want your input."
"Deacon, I'm glad you feel that way. I don't like it when directors want to simply be fucking traffic cops. 'Go here.' 'Do this.' I like to be part of the process."
"You will be," Christopher assured him. "But there are still a few things I need to discuss with you before we go much further."
Elijah nodded. "Go ahead." He pulled his phone from his pocket and examined it as he spoke, his concern growing. Why haven't I heard from Sean? he wondered, frowning. But the moment he looked at his phone his question was answered. It wasn't on!
"Oh fuck!" Elijah exclaimed, rising quickly from the table.
Hearing the alarm in his voice Christopher leaned toward him solicitously. "What's wrong, Elijah?"
"My fucking cell is off!" Elijah moaned. "I forgot to turn it on after the meeting." He turned to the director. "Deacon, I'll see you tomorrow when we sign the contract. I have to go now." He shook the man's hand and quickly walked out of the dining room, barely hearing Christopher's farewell. He was amazed at how much time had gone by; they'd been talking for hours! He hastily speed-dialed Sean's number as he walked toward the elevator and his lover answered on the first ring.
"My god, Elijah, where have you been? I've been worried sick!"
"Seanie, I'm sorry! I forgot to turn my cell on after the meeting. It's been such a hectic day."
"You haven't checked it all day long?" Sean asked him.
"Well, no. I had a dinner engagement tonight, and the time really got away from me."
"Dinner engagement?"
"Yeah. I had dinner with Deacon Christopher. He's the guy directing the play."
"I see," Sean said softly.
Elijah entered his room and sat down on the bed. "Sean, I'm sorry. It was an accident. I honestly meant to call you."
"It's ok, Elijah. I understand. So the deal is all settled?"
"I sign the contract tomorrow, though rehearsals won't start for several weeks yet."
"Do you like this Christopher guy?"
Elijah paused, hearing the hesitancy in Sean's voice. "Well," he drawled finally. "He's no Sean Astin, but he'll do in a fucking pinch."
"You coming home tomorrow?" Sean asked more brightly, clearly reassured by Elijah's answer.
"Yes. I've got a late-morning flight. Be home early afternoon."
"You need me to pick you up?"
"No. My car is at the airport. You didn't notice it wasn't in the garage?"
"Thought you might have left it at Martin's."
"Nope."
"OK, baby. I'll be here when you get home."
"I'm glad, Seanie," Elijah said softly. "I've really missed you."
"Me too," Sean said softly. "I love you, Elwood."
"And I love you," Elijah echoed. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight, babe."
"I'll be here," Sean assured him. "Rest well, love."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The contract signing the next morning was uneventful. Everyone was in good spirits, and as he chatted with the producers, Elijah found himself eagerly looking forward to the project. Deacon Christopher's behavior that morning had been completely professional, and Elijah found it hard to believe that he'd had any reservations about either the director or the project in general.
As the meeting broke up, Christopher took Elijah aside. "We didn't get to finish our chat last night, and I've felt a bit concerned about you ever since. Is everything alright, Elijah?"
"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten to turn my phone on after the meeting, and I hadn't called Sean since the night before. I knew he'd be worried is all. Everything's fine."
"There are still some fairly vital elements that I feel we need to discuss," the director told him. "Would it be possible to chat by phone in the next day or so?"
"Sure!" Elijah told him, already edging toward the door. "You have my number. Call me anytime."
Christopher nodded and waved. "Will do. Have a great flight."
Elijah slept for most of the flight home and after gathering his luggage he headed for the parking lot, eager to get home. As he guided his car onto the freeway he called Sean's number.
"Hey you!" Sean said happily. "You on the ground?"
"On the ground and headed your way," Elijah replied, grinning at the happiness in Sean's voice. "Be home shortly."
"I'll be waiting. I don't want you talking while you're driving, so I'll see you when you get here."
"Ok, Seanie."
"Be safe, baby," Sean said, and hung up.
When he arrived at home, he barely had time to get out of the car before Sean was at his side. He scooped Elijah into his arms and kissed him repeatedly.
"God, I missed you..." he murmured into Elijah's ear.
Elijah found himself trembling with the effort to fight back tears. The feeling of Sean's strong arms locked around him was overwhelming, and though he tried again and again to speak, words simply would not come. Sean seemed to understand. He rocked Elijah against him for a long time, covering his face in kisses. Finally he leaned back.
"Welcome home."
Elijah nodded, swallowing hard. "Glad to be here."
Sean reluctantly released him and reached into the back seat for his one suitcase. "I've got it," he told Elijah. Luggage firmly in hand, he wrapped his other arm around Elijah's shoulders and guided him gently toward the house. "Let's go in."
Their reunion was tender and loving. Neither of them said a word about the issues that had troubled their relationship. They were both determined to set all disagreements aside and savor the sweetness of simply being together. After spending the afternoon making love and lounging in their bed, they felt renewed... healed from within.
Finally though, Sean spoke. He dipped his head to kiss Elijah's upper arm, then nuzzled it gently. "I tried to call Orlando... several times. He won't call me back."
Elijah sighed.
"I left him at least three voice mail messages," Sean continued, "apologizing for what I said." He kissed Elijah's arm again. "Maybe he won't ever forgive me."
He sounded so forlorn that Elijah was forced to smile. "C'mon. Never's a long fucking time. He's as mad at himself as he is at you, Seanie. He'll see the truth in it eventually and he will forgive you."
Sean stared down at the sheets for a moment as if studying them, then glanced up into his lover's eyes. "Do you forgive me?"
Elijah shook his head then kissed Sean tenderly. "Nothing to forgive. I was out of line the other day. You're right. She's your child. I can't possibly know what that means to you. Seeing her hurt that way.... seeing Paddy hurt. You felt you had to do something! If they do separate, it's not your doing. It's theirs."
Sean nodded silently and Elijah knew that no matter what he said, Sean would continue to blame himself to some extent at least. "You can't fix everything, baby," Elijah said comfortingly, sliding the back of his fingers down Sean's face. "Though I have to confess that I do love watching you try."
Sean pressed his lips to Elijah's, overwhelmed by feelings of love and gratitude. "Thank you," he breathed, then after kissing Elijah again he sat up in bed and took his hand. "I suppose we should talk about New York now, huh? Do you know when you're going back?"
"Not for a few weeks anyway," Elijah told him, then frowned. "Maybe two weeks," he amended, then hesitated. "Maybe it's more accurate to say I'm not quite sure. I do need to look for a place, though I suppose I could hire someone to do that couldn't I?" He gazed up at Sean questioningly.
There were dark smudges under his lover's eyes and Sean had to force himself not to protest, yet again, about him taking on a new project at this time... especially one that was likely to be extremely stressful. Instead he lifted Elijah's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Of course you can have someone do that for you. And you don't need to think about any of that tonight. Let's forget it 'til tomorrow."
"Thanks, Seanie. I guess I'm not thinking too clear right now."
"You rest here. I'll go make you a cup of hot chocolate and some toast."
"Comfort food!" Elijah exclaimed.
Sean smiled and kissed his forehead. "I figured you could use some," he murmured, then rose and left for the kitchen.
The following day Elijah seemed somewhat renewed and in very high spirits. Being at home and with Sean had left him feeling healed and happy.
They both tried to call Orlando without success but did manage to have a slightly chaotic four-way conversation with Dom and Billy who were staying in Dom's apartment while Billy settled his divorce arrangements with Ali.
Discussing it later, they both agreed that Billy had seemed somewhat subdued, which seemed natural under the circumstances. "I worry about this arrangement," Sean confessed. "And did you hear Dom?"
"Yeah," Elijah replied dryly. "Everything he said seemed a bit forced didn't it."
"Very," Sean agreed moodily. He sighed. "Damn! I hope they'll be OK."
Elijah pursed his lips and frowned, then he took Sean's hand. "Can we sit for a few minutes? Sit and talk?"
"Of course!"
Sean allowed himself to be guided to their private patio where they sat close together on a comfortable glider. They rocked gently in silence for a few minutes: Sean's arm tight around Elijah's shoulders, holding him close to his side as though he were afraid Elijah might take flight. Finally Elijah turned to him. "I guess we should talk about New York."
Sean nodded, still keeping his arm tightly around his lover.
"Rehearsals are supposed to start in six weeks or so, but I may have to go back sooner for some prep work, and I need to find a place."
"Just be sure it has room for two," Sean interjected with a smile.
"Trust me, I will."
"What did you think of the people involved?" Sean asked.
"Very professional. The director seems nice, though a bit intense."
"He's the one you had dinner with... right?"
"Yeah. We were discussing the character and his directing style... stuff like that."
Sean chewed his lip, hesitating. "Errrm… is he attractive?" he asked finally, peeping at Elijah with a somewhat shamefaced grin.
"Yes, a bit," Elijah said laughing. "The dark and brooding type, I suppose you'd have to say."
"I'm feeling better about this all the time," Sean commented dryly, drawing another laugh from Elijah.
"He may be attractive," Elijah told him after kissing his cheek. "But I'm not attracted." He nestled close in Sean's arms and sighed contentedly. "I've got what I want right here."
The director rang Elijah up later that day, but Elijah let the call go to voice mail. He was enjoying his time with Sean and wasn't quite ready to allow the outside world in as yet. When he checked his messages later on, he found one waiting from Christopher.
"Hey, Elijah!" he said cordially. "Give me a call when you get a free minute, OK? A few things to discuss."
Elijah sighed and dialed the director's number. He answered almost at once.
"Hey, Deacon! What's up?"
"Hey, man. Sorry to bother you at home, but there are a few things weighing on my mind that I think we need to discuss."
"Shoot!" Elijah invited, settling himself in an armchair just as Sean walked into the living room carrying two beers. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and Elijah mouthed 'the director' as he took one of the beers from Sean's hand.
"I was actually thinking we needed to talk in person," Christopher said. "Do you know when you plan to return to New York?"
Sean made hand gestures asking if Elijah wanted him to leave the room, and Elijah shook his head emphatically, gesturing Sean into the chair opposite him. "Deacon, I don't know. I hadn't planned on coming back for two weeks anyway. Is there a real need for me to come back sooner?" As he spoke he could see the shadow that crossed Sean's face at the mention of his having to leave sooner.
"Well, buddy, it's like this," Christopher responded. "You're a movie actor... and a great one. But stage acting is a bit different, and I'd like to put you through a bit of 'basic training' before we start rehearsals."
"What kind of 'basic training'?" Elijah asked, lowering his head so he wouldn't have to see the sadness in Sean's eyes.
"Voice work," Christopher replied. "A bit of work with stage direction, which may be a bit different than what you're used to... things like that."
Elijah hesitated.
"It shouldn't take more than a week or so," Christopher said. "That would still give you a week at home before you were really needed here."
Elijah sighed. He had really wanted at least two weeks at home, but it seemed clear he wasn't going to get it. "OK, Deacon. I'll try to book a flight sometime soon. I'll call you and give you the details later."
"Good deal!" Christopher said. "See you soon." And he hung up.
Elijah laid his phone aside, and forced himself to look into Sean's eyes. Neither of them spoke.
Finally Sean rose and bent over Elijah. "You ready for dinner?" he asked. "Thought I'd take you out tonight. Maybe some Italian to celebrate your new role." Elijah knew what it was costing Sean not to protest against all of it. The role. The travel. The stress Elijah knew was ahead for him. His heart melted in gratitude and lifting his arms, he wrapped them around Sean neck and pulled him closer.
"I'd love to go out to dinner with you," he whispered, then kissed Sean passionately. "Just promise me we'll come home early enough to have a little..." he paused and kissed Sean again. "... dessert."
Sean laughed softly and pressed his face to Elijah's neck murmuring: "My very favorite meal."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the week sped by Elijah tried to take comfort from the days he and Sean had together, feeling that he could somehow store the strength he was drawing from Sean's presence to tap into in the days ahead. But as the time for his departure drew near, he felt a persistent shadow grow ever darker in his mind and heart. He just had a bad feeling about this venture.
Not about the play itself. He was still enthusiastic about portraying Blair Edwards-still eager to try his hand at stage work. But some as yet indefinable concern haunted him. He tried to shrug it off, eventually deciding his sense of unease grew out of his understandable reluctance to be separated from Sean. It'll pass, he told himself repeatedly.
Besides, Sean would be coming to New York whenever he could. They had both made a firm commitment to try to keep their life together as close to 'normal' as possible under the circumstances. Elijah already had a broker searching for a New York apartment big enough for them to live in comfortably. No hotel rooms or flats. They wanted a place that would be their 'home on the East coast'.
When Elijah's phone rang on the day before his departure he glanced at the caller ID eagerly, hoping it was the broker with news that she'd found just such a place for them. But it was someone else entirely.
"Orlando!" Elijah exclaimed, holding the phone out for Sean to see the name.
"Answer it!" Sean urged, hunching closer to Elijah on the couch where they'd been relaxing.
"Hey, Orly!" Elijah said. "'Bout damn time you returned my call!"
"Hey, Lij," the clipped British voice responded. "Sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot on my mind. A lot happening."
"Are you OK?"
"Yeeeah...," Orlando drawled. "I am. But I have something to tell you... and Sean too... that might stir up some trouble and make things not OK."
Elijah shot a guarded glance at Sean wondering what on earth Orlando was talking about. "Orly?" he asked slowly, feeling a sense of dread creeping into his veins. "What is it?"
Orlando drew in a deep breath, as if preparing himself. "I want you to tell Sean about this, Lij. I know he's going to be pissed. I expect it. And I'm sorry that-"
"Orlando!" Elijah broke in. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Sean leaned toward him, questioningly... obviously worried by what he was hearing. Elijah held up a hand asking him to 'wait', shaking his head to indicate that he didn't know yet what was happening.
"I'm going to try to get full custody of Patrick," Orlando told him quietly. "I think it's best for him right now. Ally isn't being a proper mum to him, Elijah. She's more interested in that damned degree than she is in her son. The lawyer thinks I have a good chance of winning."
For a long moment Elijah said nothing. He glanced at Sean, who was clearly growing agitated by the one-sided conversation, then drew in a deep breath.
"Ally will still have visitation, of course," Orlando continued. "Sean and Chris too! I'd never keep Paddy away from any of you!"
"Orly, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"I'm positive, Lij. I'm doing this. Please tell Sean for me that I'm not mad at him anymore, though I feel sure he'll be bloody pissed as hell at me when he hears what I'm doing. If he wants to talk about it... tell him to call me. But I thought you should be the one to tell him. Let him calm down a bit before he and I chat again."
"Fucking hell," Elijah spouted angrily. "Thanks a shitload, Orlando!"
"Elijah," Sean blurted. "What the fuck-"
Elijah reached out and took Sean's hand and squeezed it, while still holding the phone to his ear, clearly asking Sean to be patient one more second.
"Sorry, mate," Orlando said. "I have to go. Call me later."
"Right!" Elijah said disgustedly, and hung up. He was seething inside. Furious at Orlando for making this his job. He drew in another deep breath, clenching his teeth. Jesus! Elijah thought, angrily. Haven't we had enough trouble already?
"Elijah, for the love of GOD!" Sean burst out.
"Listen," Elijah said, turning to him and taking both hands in his. "That fucking Elf just dumped it on ME to tell you this and I'm pissed as hell about it. But, Seanie, you have to be told."
"What??!"
"Sean, he's going to try to take full custody of Paddy."
For a long moment Sean started silently at Elijah, his face growing ashen.
"Seanie?" Elijah whispered finally. "You OK?"
Sean swallowed hard and looked down, releasing Elijah's hands. When he looked back up Elijah could see that his eyes were swimming.
"God, Sean, I'm sorry. This is..."
"I'm glad," Sean interrupted. "I'm glad, Elijah." He lowered his face into his hands, and Elijah could hear him struggling to hold back the tears. "Ally'd hate me for saying that," he murmured thickly. "But I know it's what's best for Paddy right now."
Elijah quickly took Sean in his arms, rocking him soothingly. "Baby, it's OK. It's all gonna be OK. Ally could never hate you. Never!"
"Yes, she would," Sean said, his arms winding around Elijah. "God, I hope she doesn't ask me what I think of it."
"If she does," Elijah said grabbing Sean's arms and pushing him back to stare into his eyes, "... you simply tell her that you can't get involved in this. That it is THEIR decision and THEIR choice, and that all you want to do is be there for Paddy no matter WHAT they decide. You hear me, Sean? Stay OUT of it! Don't let them push you into taking a side."
Sean nodded slowly, his cheeks damp. "You're right," he told Elijah, his voice still thick with suppressed tears. "I can't fix this. You're right. And for once I'm going to listen to you."
They spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation, then retired to their bedroom. Neither of them had the heart for lovemaking. They simply held each other close.
"God, I'm sorry I have to leave," Elijah said vehemently.
Sean merely nodded.
"Seanie, I really am sorry."
Sean sighed and held him closer, tucking Elijah's head under his chin, cradling him in his arms. "You don't have to be sorry," he murmured. He sighed again, and Elijah felt a rush of guilt.
"Sean," Elijah said, lifting his head to gaze into his partner's eyes. "I promise you. I'm OK!"
Sean smiled and nodded, and drew Elijah's head back to his chest.
Elijah knew that in spite of his smile, Sean wasn't in the least bit reassured. And he also knew that when he spoke his words of reassurance he'd been lying in his teeth.