(no subject)

[bluetears07]

Disclaimer: Ever so sorry boys…the stuff in here never happened.
Paring: Sean A./Elijah
Summary: AU: Some things are just meant to happen while others are simply ripples off of one small mistake that change us forever. (Read AU Description, and also AN; behind cut)
AU Description: Same as before. (Refer to the “Prologue’s” AN for information mentioned previously.)
Rating: R (over-all) Chapter Nineteen: PG-13
AN: Sorry about the delay…damn writer’s block and volleyball…and Olympics! *grumbles* Glossing over The Yank or…Hooligan whatever it’ll be called…*sheepish grin*
Guide: ‘Thoughts’

Dream

Sean’s Book Passage
+++++++++++++++

Preordained

Chapter Nineteen: Proposition

Inside the ornately decorated walls of the hotel’s main elevator, it seemed to be completely silent, save the almost inaudible buzz of twinkling background music that had started to leak through the elevator’s speakers. The dim overhead lighting within the moving room cast a hazy yellow tinge on everything it bathed, reflecting faintly off the polished sliding doors. It was almost one o’ clock in the morning and Sean was certain that, other than his cast and crew who had already headed out to Central Park for the late night filming, he and Elijah would be the only ones riding the elevator down to the hotel’s posh lobby.

Nestled in one corner was Sean’s sleep deprived body slumped lethargically against the juncture of two walls. Physically and emotionally drained, he struggled to stay on his feet without breaking down and giving in. Arms spread away from his body, supporting himself by gripping the twin stainless steel bars bolted to the walls, Sean took a deep breath to steady his nerves. To his left, Elijah was continuing to shift nervously from one foot to the other as if being confined in such a small space alone with his very greatest temptation was starting to get to him.

Everything seemed to be flowing at less than half speed as Elijah slowly inched away from the middle of the elevator to where he stood quietly, oblivious to the younger man drawing closer. A sharp intake of breath told Elijah exactly when Sean first recognized the tell-tall sensation of fabric skimming against the exposed skin of his forearm. The soft material slithered against his outstretched arm until Elijah’s back was pressing gently against the older man’s chest. His lithe body seemed to fit perfectly in the opening created by Sean’s arms. Behind him however, Elijah was sure he had felt Sean flinch away at the sudden contact of his hips against the younger man’s backside.

“Mmmm, fuck it Sean…nobody is going to find us here,” he whispered in a sultry tone, taking advantage of what had recently been denied physical contact, Elijah’s eyes slid shut as he reveled in the heat radiating from the all too familiar solid body behind him.

As Sean had done so many times in the past, it was now Elijah’s possessive, pale tapered fingers that slipped back around to hook about the back of Sean’s neck and tangle in the slightly curled strands of hair at his nape. Responding with a low guttural moan muffled by the soft skin of Elijah’s neck, Sean’s hands released the bars and gently threaded their way through the empty belt loops of Elijah’s jeans. Once feeling Sean’s physical acknowledgement of his advances, Elijah pressed back against the twitching hips. The younger man’s free hand moved from hanging limp by his side to cover the back of Sean’s hand as the older man’s fingertips began to toy with the elastic waistband of Elijah’s boxers that just barely managed to peek out above his low-slung jeans. Soft lips leisurely traced along the curved flesh of Elijah’s ear as Sean whispered the young actor’s name in a quiet murmur full of lust-laden abandon. The tip of his nose gently nudged the yielding flesh of Elijah’s flushed cheek as he bowed his head for a fleeting kiss.

Eyes sliding shut as his lips barely brushed against Elijah’s, a strange sense of déjà vu surged through Sean’s veins as everything around him seemed to blur into darkness. Though he opened his eyes once more, the familiar scene of the hotel elevator was long gone and replaced by the all too memorable black backdrop that had once haunted his dreams so many times before. However, unlike in those lingering dreams, Elijah’s calm face was still recognizable, tilted up towards him with parted pale lips, trembling and offering themselves for Sean’s taking. Every dusky lash was still in place, curving gently against the high carved lightly flushed cheekbone.

The sensation of coarse jean fabric and a warm hand against his own began to numb his flesh while he watched helplessly as darkness slowly spread from the tips of his fingers, down Elijah’s hips and thighs. At every source of direct contact between the two lovers blackness began to veil the once solid form pressed tight against Sean. As his arms brushed against Elijah’s shoulders, a twining strand of endless black encircled his thin shoulders before the young man disappeared completely into the dark backdrop.

It was a digression from the last dream he had had like this; when he first realized it was Elijah to whom those beguiling blue eyes belonged to. As soon as Elijah’s lips tilted up the fraction of an inch to press tentatively against his, a patch of darkness spread over the younger man’s face, save his eyes that were now open and calmly searching Sean’s face. Pulling away frantically from the sight, Sean watched the last expanse of Elijah’s pale skin fade to black before all that was left were twin pools of endless blue.

“Elijah!” The frantic yelp, threaded through with unbidden resolve, slipped past Sean’s lips unchecked as he sat bolt upright on the leather couch set up in his living room. A cascade of papers fluttered back down about him as they had been sent airborne by his sudden awakening. His eyes began to adjust to the dim moonlight and a solitary lamp lit up near the opposite arm of the couch as he wiped away the sheen of sweat slicking the skin at the back of his neck.

Not remembering when he had fallen asleep, Sean shifted his body so that he was sitting on the very edge of the seat. Placing his elbows squarely on his knees, back curved into a gentle slope, Sean laced his hands together behind his head and took a few deep breaths. In the following moments of near silence, save the methodic rush of air being drawn deep into Sean’s body, he tried to reassure himself that it was only a dream, though it had started out with a true memory of Elijah stealing a single kiss in their New York hotel’s elevator shaft.

After a moment of purely breathing, Sean started to review the past two days. After speaking with Elijah on his cell phone while the younger man stood on his separate balcony the couple had decided to go ahead down to Central Park to help set up the cameras and get in costume, or at least get Elijah into costume. As in Sean’s dream, they rode in the same elevator and did indeed give into temptation for a wayward moment before being interrupted by an unexpected stop on the third floor so that one of the key grips could catch a ride. After that they hadn’t spoken to each other again, except for when Sean was directing the young actor on set. When they flew back to L.A. on Sunday, Sean had mentioned, rather loudly, that the editing process was beginning at the Focus lot on Monday and that anyone who wanted to come and help out could…

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, Sean returned to the present and leaned down to gather up the divorce papers now littering the living room floor. He had been diligently poring over the documents, making tactical notes in the margins until falling asleep while reading over the custody section concerning how much time each parent could spend with Alexandra on a weekly basis. As he started to shift through the thick stack of scribbled upon sheets, he heard the quiet squeaking of floorboards and the slap of bare feet against hardwood behind the couch. Still on edge because of his unsettling dream, Sean’s head whipped around to find a startled Ally staring intently at him.

“Oh…hey, baby.” Sean sighed in relief, silently offering his daughter a seat by patting the cushion next to his. Ally’s expression slowly melted into her usual warm, innocent smile seeing her father’s gesture. However, glancing at his wristwatch to discover that it was well after two o’ clock, he quickly asked his daughter the first question that his mind could rationalize in its recently scattered state. “Alexandra, what are you still doing up?” The young girl hung her head upon hearing the sound of her father addressing her by full name.

She slowly trudged around the opposite side of the sofa to plunk down on the proffered cushion next to him. After placing the papers on the glass coffee table next to a red ceramic mug half full of coffee, he curled a finger just under Ally’s chin to tilt her face up so he could look her at her eyes as she spoke. Lip stuck out in a perfect seven-year-old pout, Ally’s big eyes pleaded with her father not to be cross with her because she was still up at such a late hour.

“I-I…” she stuttered uncharacteristically as her eyes searched her father’s face, trying to find the words she was desperately grasping for. “Daddy, may I ask you an itty bitty question?” It wasn’t normal for the inquisitive girl to ask permission before fearlessly shouting out any brazen inquiry that popped into her golden curled head. The request sent Sean for a loop as he started to rack his brain for any question that Ally would be hesitant about asking him.

‘Anything pertaining to your delicate situation with either Christine or Elijah…’ Sean’s mind instantly jumped to the conclusion before Alexandra could even open her mouth once seeing her father nod in affirmative to her request.

“Uhhmm…” She started quietly, not looking at her father’s face as she began to fidget anxiously by twining her fingers together and twisting them around. “Why don’t you and Mommy smile much anymore?” The small question seemed simple enough to ask, however the answer was far more complicated than Sean wanted to let on. He and Christine had still not gone over when or what exactly they were going to tell Ally when they ‘officially’ started the divorce process.

Unsure of how to approach the answer, Sean stalled by changing positions on the couch once more so that his legs were stretched out with his back supported by the couch’s arm along the length of the furniture. Ally settled for sitting to one side of his lap with her arms draped loosely around his neck. Patiently watching the gears spinning furiously in her father’s head, Ally chewed her lower lip while Sean brushed distractedly at the stray strands of hair that had escaped her loose braid.

“Well honey, like I told you a little while ago, some things are a little complicated and this is one of those things…” Sean started softly, trying to use a soothing tone as his daughter accepted the first statement but, as always, waited quietly for a more elaborate explanation. The young girl curled up next to her father as he wrapped a comforting arm around her fragile shoulders. “You see Ally, Mommy isn’t really happy with me right now…” It was the truth after all, so Sean felt no qualms telling his daughter a rather vague answer. However, as usual Ally had an arsenal of questions following up her initial conversation starter.

“Why?”

“Because…” he paused, contemplating what exactly he should tell her. Taking a deep breath he settled for speaking the only thing he could; the truth, in much more simple terms. “Mommy doesn’t like it when I spend time with Uncle Elijah.” He finally admitted, running his fingers through the soft golden strands of Ally’s hair. Mesmerized by Sean’s’ words, Ally’s mind was one step ahead of her father as she began to formulate a counter argument. Though she did find the speech pattern her father was using to explain his situation with her mother a little patronizing she kept shifting through the simple answers for the true heart of the problem between her parents.

“But doesn’t Mommy know how happy you are when you’re with Uncle Elijah?” she countered with a naive grin, thinking she had caught a flaw in her father’s reasoning. Rolling the words around in his head, Sean weighed the pros and cons of answering her with the truth. If he kept it simple, as he had been doing the entire conversation, then Ally might be happy with him finally admitting to something she was searching for.

“Yes,” his voice was barely audible above Ally’s quiet breath but she knew she had heard her father correctly. ‘…and that’s exactly the problem…’ Sean’s mind amended silently as his eyes slid shut in pure exhaustion. Baffled by her father’s admission, Ally’s instant response was to ask why her mother didn’t want her father to be happy. However, after a moment of silence her mind quickly replayed all the times she had witnessed her father with Chris and then with Elijah. As she had pointed out many times before, Sean seemed happier when he was with ‘Uncle’ Elijah…

‘Maybe Mommy is, uhhh…what was that word…oh yeah, maybe she’s jealous?’ she quietly rationalized. Not able to look her father in the eye, Ally bowed her head and stared intently at the ceramic mug sitting undisturbed on the coffee table as she spoke. “Is that it? Is Mommy mad because she does know that you’re happier with Uncle Elijah that you are with her…?”

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The familiar scent of his own cologne and washing detergent mingled together assaulted his senses as he managed to finally find his way in the dark to the doorway of his bedroom. After the long flight and late dinner, accompanied by quite a few drinks with Dom and Billy, Elijah was finally back at his apartment after the long weekend filming in New York City.

Blindly feeling along the right-hand wall of his bedroom for the light switch connected to his bedside lamp, Elijah flicked the plastic appliance. A low groan slipped from his lips as his eyes were instantly stung by the sudden brightness that he hadn’t entirely prepared himself for. Rubbing furiously at his eyes, the young actor walked into his room and tossed the jam-packed messenger bag onto the foot of his bed. Not caring that the contents of his bag spilled over onto the unkempt, twisted comforter, Elijah fell back against the mattress with his arms spread out wide. The simple joy of finally being home slowly seeped into his system as he shifted his body with a contented sigh, attempting to find a more comfortable position in order to relax.

One outstretched hand slipped under the pillow beside his head, only to bump against a strange and slippery object hidden beneath the layers of linen and feathers. Confused, Elijah’s hand clamped around the foreign item and, sitting up while at the same time drawing the object out from its hiding place, his eyes grew wide as soon as he recognized exactly what it was. Between his fingers was an empty, well-used plastic tube that had once been full to the brim with slick lube. As soon as he registered just what and why the lube was nestled beneath the extra pillow he had on his bed bittersweet unbidden images of that night ran past his eyes.

“Fuck!” Elijah screamed as blind fury bubbled over and the tube was whipped halfway across the bedroom as he thrashed about on the coverlet in muted rage, feet colliding with the fabric messenger bag to send it crashing to the carpeted floor. Startled by his own raw outburst, the young man drew his legs up to his chest before pressing his face against his knees and throwing his arms over his head. “Shit…” he murmured, voice muffled by the rough material of his jeans. Upon drawing in a deep, calming breath Elijah sighed and uncurled himself before crawling on hands and knees to pick up the scattered items he had just knocked off his bed.

The first thing that drew his attention was a shock of white paper contrasting with a pitch-black cover and deep scarlet swirling letters. Sticking out like a sore thumb from the pages of Elijah’s copy of The Inevitable he had brought along to New York was a flimsy paper bookmark. Intrigued, Elijah picked up the book first and opened it to where the bookmark was jammed into the binding At first, he didn’t notice the scrawling seven written in dark red ink to match the script printed on the cover and spine of Sean’s book, but as soon as his eyes were drawn in he gasped at the significance of the number.

“Seven weeks…Sean, you little sneak.” The young man giggled for the first time in what felt like forever as a fleeting memory of seeing Sean rummaging through the disorganized messenger bag while the older man thought Elijah wasn’t watching as he was dragged into the makeshift makeup trailer. Fingering the thin paper, Elijah turned his eyes to the pages specifically marked by the author himself just for his young lover to read. It was a passage whose main focus surrounded William and Patrick’s relationship developing, as the older of the two instructed the other about the ins and outs of Japanese swordplay.

The icy bite of blunt steel sliced through Will’s consciousness to bring all of his attention focused on the shimmering flat edge of Patrick’s blade pressed against his throat. He still wasn’t sure exactly how the older man had managed to both disarm him and trap him in such a compromising position all in the blink of an eye. Chest heaving from exertion, Will closed his eyes in defeat and surrendered to the strangely warm body pressed against his back.

“Tsk, tsk…” Patrick clucked in disapproval next to his protégé’s ear as his lips brushed lightly against the flushed skin. One arm wound about the younger man’s shoulders and the other gripping the hilt of his sword, Patrick began his lecture, scolding the hotheaded young man. “Will, I would have expected just an ounce more control from such an established young man such as yourself…” Air rushed past Will’s ear in one fluid torrent as Patrick heaved a mock disappointed sigh. “However, and I just can’t stress this enough, it was your mind that lost the fight and not your lack of talent.” Patrick paused for a moment to loosen his grip on the hilt of his katana as he continued. The twinge of steel against Will’s skin faded to a dull ache as Patrick allowed the pressure of his blade to relax. “Because I can see that you do, in fact, have skill with swordplay.” It was rare indeed to hear such a compliment from the older man and William had to express his gratitude.

“Thank you,” the young man ground out past clenched teeth as he continued to listen to the patronizing voice of his mentor. Unable to turn his head away from the moist, unsettling intoxicant that was Patrick’s fluid breath condensing on the flushed skin of his throat, Will allowed himself to enjoy the strange warm flush that was beginning to spread rapidly through every vein just beneath the surface of his skin.

“Half the fight is already determined by the time you first meet eyes with your opponent.” The clean blade wavered as Patrick started to slowly walk around to look at William’s face. “For example,” he began as the blunt edge of his blade shifted to press against the side of the younger man’s throat. “Just now, when I was fighting you, I already knew the outcome.” Now the positions had been completely switched, blade pressing against the nape of William’s neck while Patrick met the younger man’s unfathomably blue gaze. “When you looked at my eyes you saw something there that frightened and intimidated you, what it was I can only imagine, but what you need to learn is the classic ‘mind over matter.’”

“And how exactly do I do that, Sensei?” Will quipped with a cynical sneer contorting the curved line of his upper lip. The quick, snide remark was an internal gut reaction to the strange ‘threat’ that seemed to boil his blood when Patrick’s face was so close to his own. The answering response was a quick snapping of Patrick’s wrist, sending the flat edge of his sword colliding with the base of Will’s skull. Wincing in pain, William didn’t speak another word and silently listened to the rest of Patrick’s lesson. As the older man continued, uninterrupted, he began to slowly come back around full circle.

“Once you can overcome the psychological intimidation an opponent might try and frighten you with, and you realize that your will and fearless courage coupled with your skill is just as strong, if not stronger than theirs, then you will be able to win any match…no matter who you are up against.” Patrick paused before his voice dropped to an eerily husky tone that sent the hairs on Will’s neck standing on end as his lips once more brushed against the shell of William’s ear. The young man could have sworn he felt the slightest grazing of teeth against the sensitive skin. “Well, except me of course…”

Elijah couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips as he realized why Sean had singled out that particular passage. Despite the physical distance that was now established between them thanks to Christine’s whims, Sean’s words could still comfort him in ways his solid presence could not…

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“Sean. Sean?” The quiet tenor nagged at Sean’s mind as he tore his hand away from where it rested against Elijah’s thigh, loosely entwined with the younger man’s own fingers. Shifting away from his co-star, Sean quickly stood up from the make shift couch that had been set up by the editing crew. Quietly, Elijah crossed one leg over the other as he anxiously began to pat the fabric of his pants pocket, searching for a box of cigarettes. It was only ten o’ clock and his nerves were already shot thanks to the off and on, fluxing demands of the editing crew Sean had hired.

“Hmmm?” Sean inquired, crossing the small room to where the low voice was beckoning for his opinion. Both Sean and Elijah silently thanked the dimness the editing monitors required to work properly. It hid the tinge of a flush creeping up to paint their cheeks.

Officially, they had begun editing the first half of the film at around five in the morning because it seemed that insomniacs had a strange knack for film splicing, especially when using a software program. Elijah, on the other hand, had arrived at a more humane hour, five cups of steaming Starbucks coffee in tow, and had settled himself down in the middle of the softly padded sofa and hadn’t moved from that spot since. As soon as Sean had returned from the bathroom and saw Elijah sitting patiently upon the sofa, he immediately made a beeline for the cushion next to the younger man’s. However, Sean was constantly being called over to closely examine a clip whenever the tech crew was unsure what he, as the director, meant when he was trying to explain exactly how he visualized the scene being cut together. They hadn’t talked much since Elijah’s arrival; instead the couple seemed to take subdued comfort in the simplest caress of fingertip gliding along knuckles and palms.

Not really listening to how Sean wanted the chapel scene to be edited, Elijah allowed himself the indulgence of tracing up Sean’s body with his eyes. As Sean arched back while bending at the waist to look closer at the monitor, Elijah couldn’t help but notice the very unusual way the older man’s shirt hung off his shoulders. The gentle cotton fabric creased deeply between the shallow valley created by Sean’s arched shoulder blades. Of course Sean had worn the shirt many times before, dark green hue with little plastic buttons leading up to an open collar, but the cloth had always fit his build perfectly, now his frame seemed to be lost ever so slightly within the folds. It sent an unsettling shiver through Elijah’s blood stream as his mind began to wonder just why and how the shirt had become suddenly too big.

However, before Elijah could come to a conclusion that fit Sean’s mannerisms, the man in question started walking back to the sofa. Though this did not stop his stomach from clenching tightly as he noticed the oddly sharp angle of Sean’s hipbones as they peeked out from the curved hem of his shirt and the waistband of both his boxers and his looser than normal jeans. He could feel a grimace tugging at his lips as he looked up at Sean’s smiling countenance. With a quiet plop, Sean sat down.

“Hey, Lij,” Sean mumbled, leaning close to his young actor as his lips ghosted along the flesh of his ear. “Please smile…for me?” Once again Elijah felt warm, comforting fingertips graze against the back of his hand before he turned his palm up, offering Sean the chance to map out the tell-tale creases marring the sweaty skin. Elijah managed to twist his lips up in an almost genuine smile, displaying all his happiness from the thrill of being able to relish in the touch of Sean’s skin sliding against his own into the grin.

Distractedly tracing along the lines of Elijah’s palm, Sean watched the younger man’s sharp profile shift discreetly as his attention was pulled in the direction of the monitors set up off to the side of the computer mainframe. He moved his hand away from Elijah’s reach just before letting his fingers wiggle against the tips of Elijah’s, playing a childish game Ally had taught him a few years before. Responding, Elijah bent his fingers and tried to twine them around Sean’s evasive movements. Getting caught up in the playfulness Elijah missed seeing from his writer, he allowed a laugh to roll in the back of his throat before slipping past his lips.

“S-Sean!” Satisfied with finally eliciting the smallest of giggles from his lover, Sean dropped his palm to press fully against Elijah’s; nervous sweat slipping between their hands as Elijah grinned. Once the tingling sensation of Sean’s slick skin fell into the background buzz of his senses, Elijah turned to the scene the editing crew was now reviewing. It was ‘their’ scene…

Elijah’s very breath caught in his throat as he watched his own shimmering skin, bathed in synthetic moonlight and glistening with a splattering of artificial blood, being cleaned by Sean’s tender fingers. When they had been filming the scene one thought that was constantly reoccurring in Elijah’s mind was how the cameras would perceive the dramatic contrast between his skin and the crimson color marring his shoulder. As he finally saw what the camera had captured he was blown away. The color was crisp and clear, jumping out against the wan backdrop of his skin.

It startled him when all of the sudden he saw himself as William, standing up to follow Sean’s retreating back. He saw his back arch as he loomed over Sean’s usually domineering frame as his character took command of the situation. From the angle of the camera he could finally appreciate the subtle play of soft moonlight as it carved the planes and sloping topography of his writer’s face, kissing and caressing the endearing laugh lines fringing Sean’s darkened eyes. Even more unsettling was when he began to squirm anxiously in his seat as he was forced to watch himself kiss Sean so casually that he didn’t know how every person on set hadn’t said one thing to them.

As the scene progressed, Sean continued to instructed the crew how he wanted them to splice in the angle from camera three between the two shots of Elijah from camera one and camera four. Drowning out the terms that he did know but couldn’t process at the moment, Elijah focused all his nervous energy on lacing his fingers with Sean’s. Pulling gently, he dragged the hand to rest against his thigh while they started to dip his fingertips between the webbing of skin connecting Sean’s fingers to his palm.

All the sudden he heard Sean’s distinct ‘Patrick’ voice cry out a desperate, “Promise!” and his concentration was shattered instantly. Caught completely off guard, a heart wrenching sob was muffled against the yielding fabric of Sean’s shirt as Elijah pressed his face against the older man’s shoulder. The familiar pressure of fingertips soothing the skin covering the nape of his neck, Elijah bit back the tears stinging his eyes.

Putting on a brave face, Sean continued to instruct the crew, though the slight waver in his voice caused one or two crew members to glance back at him. However those who did look back couldn’t distinguish one thing from another in the dim light. As Sean directed the editing crew, he began to slowly massage the tense skin stretched taut over Elijah’s slumped shoulders and craned neck. Between their bodies, nestled tight against Elijah’s warm thigh, he could feel the younger man’s fingers still anxiously probing the skin of his hands in what he assumed to be a soothingly methodical rhythm.

Every nerve ending within his lithe body ignited in an electric blaze as his fingertips grazed down around Sean’s ring finger to find it completely devoid of a golden, wreathed wedding band. Quickly pulling away with a quiet gasp as his mind jumped to conclusions, Elijah’s wide blue eyes, shimmering in the near darkness with unshed tears, frantically searched Sean’s for an answer to his silent question. His fingers were still twisting around the strangely softer skin that had been protected from weathering after so many long years of marriage. Knowing exactly what Elijah was thinking, Sean opened his mouth to explain why he was no longer wearing the golden wedding band Christine had exchanged with him so many years ago.

However, he was cut short by the annoying chirping of Elijah’s cell phone as its blue light illuminated the fabric of Elijah’s pants pocket. Heaving a disheartened sigh, Elijah pulled the chiming phone from his pocket to check who the call was from before even bothering to pick up. The number and name flashing on the caller I.D. was that of his agent, who he hadn’t spoken with in a while. Glancing quickly around the dank room for any prying eyes, finding them all glued to either computer monitors or other screens, he leaned towards Sean and pressed a reassuring kiss against his still parted lips before pointing to his phone and mouthing to words, “I need to get this.”

“Hey, what up?” Elijah asked casually, once he had managed to slip out of the small room unnoticed by the editing crew. There was an infinitesimal part of Elijah that was glad to finally have an excuse to escape the awkwardness of watching others, not to mention himself, stare at his own body, nearly naked, in Sean’s heated embrace on five different monitors. Folding an arm across his chest he cupped his hand around his bent elbow, pressing his ear against the speaker.

“I have a proposition for you, Elijah.” A strange emotion was lacing his agent’s words as he spoke. It almost sounded like suppressed joy. Confused but intrigued, Elijah smiled as he responded instantly with a murmured, “Shoot.” Listening patiently, he leaned back against a wall while his gaze fixed upon the window embedded within the wooden door leading into the editing room. Through the glass he could make out Sean’s face, tipped down as the older man started at his hands. A faint smile turned up the corners of Elijah’s lips as he realized what Sean was looking at – his bare ring finger. Despite the unexpected high Elijah was feeling at the moment, he was dragged back down to earth as soon as his agent’s voice came filtering through the speaker of his cell.

“How would you like to spend the rest of the summer filming in Prague?” Elijah’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

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AN: Thanks to stellahobbit for being the best beta ever. :D *hugs* And thank you to everyone that is reading...in fact I would like to extend a little hello to all the people I've recently found out (and those who I might not know) are reading this but don't have LJs, so hi I'd love to get to know all of you! :D