Moving On (Coffee Cup Epiphanies) 4/7

[arabella-o.livejournal.com]

Title: Moving On (Coffee Cup Epiphanies)
Author: arabella_o (Arabella)
Chapter: 4 of 7
Summary: Fishing for second chances when you don't even realise you've missed the first.
Disclaimer: Not true. I swear.
Notes: Much love and cookies go to red_moon_rising, who rescued this chapter from the evil Monster of Suckitude. Previous chapters of this story can be found here. That link leads to my Memories folder, so don't be surprised to find other links there. Everything is clearly marked, though.

ETA: I fixed the bloody italics tag. Stupid HTML.

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Four:

"Come on," Elijah said, breaking the silence that had taken hold of the little kitchen. He glanced at the clock on the wall before standing up and tugging on Dominic's hand. "I'm hungry and you've got fuck all that I want."

"Then go home," Dom suggested, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

"Not a chance," Elijah said. He pulled Dom to his feet and proceeded to lead him like a child to closet in the hall where Dom kept his shoes. "You're my friend, and as such it's my friendly duty to keep you from sitting here by yourself." He shoved Dom down onto the low bench next to the front door.

"You're going to kill me with kindness, aren't you?" Dom asked. He looked up at Elijah expectantly, waiting to see if Elijah was going to put his shoes on for him, too. Elijah only smiled sweetly at him. After a moment, Dominic shook his head and turned to his shoes. Once they were tied, he patted his pockets for his keys and was surprised not to find them. It took him a moment to realise that the jeans he was wearing weren't the same ones he'd worn the night before. Dropping his hands and cocking his head to the side, Dom tried to think back to the night before. Where the hell had he left those keys?

The tinkling of metal caught Dom's attention. He looked up to see Elijah dangling his missing key chain in the air, just above his head. Rolling his eyes, Dom snatched the key ring away from Elijah and opened the door so he could shove his unwelcome guest outside. He hurriedly twisted his key in the lock and then headed for the driveway. There was a slight argument on whose car to take, but in the end Dom won, as he was nothing if not persistent, and he felt more at ease knowing that he could get away from Elijah if he needed to.

The restaurant parking lot was packed, but even with so many cars confined in such a small space, Dominic was able to pick out the green Toyota parked near the curb. A quick look at the licence plate told him all he needed to know. It was indeed Sean's car.

"You're a right bastard, you know that?" he asked Elijah as they stepped up onto the sidewalk and headed toward the front door of the tiny restaurant. Elijah didn't even bother replying.

Once inside, Elijah put one hand on the small of Dom's back and pushed him toward the far wall, where two of the smaller tables had been pulled together. Dominic took a deep breath, allowing the restaurant's atmosphere to calm him somewhat. Valentino's was one of his favourite places. It was dark and smoky, with wood panelled walls and a great bar. The employees were always friendly and could definitely take a hint when he wanted to be left alone. He usually went there by himself, although now and then Elijah or Billy would choose to tag along. To the best of Dom’s knowledge, Sean had never visited Valentino's. It just didn't seem like his sort of place, which meant that someone had more than likely harassed him into going.

Dominic had a pretty good feeling he knew who that someone was.

He and Elijah both sat down on the low bench that ran along the back wall. Dom nodded curtly at Sean, only making eye contact briefly in an effort to discourage the heartfelt conversation that he just knew Sean had practised in front of the mirror.

A waitress came up to them, a smile on her face and a stack of menus in her hand. It didn’t escape Dom's notice that she laid out four instead of three. She was one of his favourite waitresses. He usually made a point of sitting in her section, and though he didn't know much about her, one thing Dominic did know was that she could count. Along with an overpowering sense of dread, something Elijah said earlier in the morning came back to him. Sean had been with Billy. There were four menus.

Dominic's mum would be proud of his powers of deduction. He should have known better than to trust Elijah. Kill him with kindness, indeed.

Clenching his jaw to keep from screaming his frustration, Dom picked up his menu and stared at the lunch specials. In his head, he began a checklist. Ways to get even with Elijah Wood.

No, he thought. Ways to kill Elijah Wood. Number one: push him down the stairs. Number two: poke out his stupid blue eyes…. It wouldn't kill him, but Dom was confident that Elijah would wander into traffic and a passing motorist would take care of it for him.

The waitress asked which drinks they wanted and smiled at them before hurrying off to see to a couple standing by the register.

Dominic was working out the logistics of number three (something that involved one of the catapults on set) when he caught sight of Billy from the corner of his eye, coming from the hallway that led to the loo. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward that corner of the room, watching Billy with more interest than Dom knew he should be showing. Billy’s eyes made contact with Dom’s for a split second before quickly sliding away. There had been a flash of guilt there, and that brief display of emotion twisted something inside of Dom.

Yeah, he thought as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked at Elijah’s profile. The catapult should definitely be at the top of the list.

“So, Dom,” Sean said, turning away from his conversation with Elijah. Dominic steeled himself for the prying questions he knew Sean was dying to ask, all in the name of friendship. A quick look at Billy told Dom that he wasn’t the only one on edge. He was quite surprised when all Sean asked was, “This is your favourite restaurant?”

Dominic nodded, though he knew he was expected to explain exactly why he had fallen in love with such a dismal little place. He didn’t want to have to justify it; he never had been able to properly explain it.

“It’s, uh, dark,” Dom added lamely when three faces continued to look at him, wanting an actual answer. Elijah snorted and Sean rolled his eyes. Dom ducked his head slightly and started considering item number four on his list of ways to do away with a certain nosy bastard.

“Are you alright, Dom?” The question wasn’t unexpected, but Dom had thought for sure that Sean would have been the one asking it. His head jerked up with such force that he was positive that he must look like a puppet on a string. Billy stared back at him, patiently waiting for an answer. The guilty look was in his eyes again, and Dominic looked away. He could feel a scowl crossing his face and he did his best to smooth his expression into a neutral mask.

“I mean,” Billy continued. “You don’t look so good.” His voice was hesitant, the scowl having scared him off a bit.

Just shut up, Billy. Dominic thought. You pushed me away. You don’t get to ask how I’m feeling right now. You don’t get to lecture me about being hung over.

The waitress returned, saving Dom from having to formulate a civil answer. She set their drinks down on the table and pulled a notepad from the front pocket of her apron. After scrawling their orders down, she took their menus and headed for the kitchen.

The hot cup of tea felt nice between Dom’s hands. He watched the steam rise and did his best to calm down. Bolting from the table would do nothing but create more problems. Glancing up from his tea, Dominic looked at the other three men sitting around the table. He had long ago lost track of their conversation and coming into the discussion half way through was never a good idea. Leaning back in his chair, Dom created his own soundtrack to match the expressions on their faces.

”Why yes, I did overreact the other night. Throwing my best friend out on his arse after he’d done something that seemed like a good idea at the time was terribly rude of me,” Billy said, his voice full of remorse.

“That’s right,” Sean said, pointing a finger at Billy but stopping just shy of actually wagging it. “You really should have looked at it rationally. Maybe talked it over or something. At the very least, you should have stopped Dom when you saw him leaning down, not after you already had his tongue in your mouth.”

“You should beg for forgiveness,” Elijah piped up. “After how you’ve made Dom feel for the last two days, much grovelling will be needed. You didn’t have to rub salt in the wounds, Billy. You could have at least let him down gently.”

“Dom? Hey, Dominic!” Dom blinked twice and came out of the happy little world he’d created. Elijah was waving his hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention.

“What?” Dom asked gruffly, grabbing Elijah’s wrist and pushing his hand away.

“I said: your food is getting cold.” Elijah pointed to the plate of spaghetti that had obviously been sitting in front of him for some time. Dom couldn’t even remember when the waitress had come back.

Dom picked up his fork and pulled his plate a little closer to the edge of the table. He focused all his attention on twirling the pasta neatly around his fork. If he pretended his cheeks weren’t burning, maybe it would be true, never mind that wishful thinking hadn’t worked to make Elijah disappear earlier that morning.

Dom only managed to eat three bites of his spaghetti, and even that little bit of food weighed heavily in his stomach. He kept his eyes on his plate as he shifted the food around, trying to make it look as though he’d eaten more than he had.

“You haven’t even touched your tea.” Billy’s voice had lost its tentative tone and was instead full of genuine concern. Dominic briefly considered creating a second list in his head, but pushed the thought aside. The one list he had was still going strong at twenty-seven ways to get rid of Elijah, and if the little twat knew what Dom could do with a fork, he certainly would have stopped smiling by now.

Dominic looked down at the teacup and saw that the steam had stopped rising. When Billy said his name softly, Dom was suddenly overcome with the urge to smash the delicate china cup against the wall. Instead, he picked it up and tipped his head back, drinking deeply until the cup was empty. The tea was room temperature and he nearly gagged when he realised that he’d left the teabag in too long. But he was an actor, damn it, and he had skills enough to pretend that it was the best damn cup of tea he’d ever had.

“Happy?” he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. He set the cup down on the edge of the table.

“Are you okay, Dom?” Billy asked again, a little shaken by Dom’s attitude.

It was almost as though Dom could actually feel something inside him break, and suddenly there was nothing to stop him from doing what he’d wanted to do the minute he noticed Sean’s car in the parking lot.

“No, I am not okay,” Dom snapped. “Just leave it alone, Billy.” He slid off the bench and stalked away from the table, nearly running into the waitress who had come back to make sure they didn’t need anything.

Someone called Dom’s name as he stepped outside, and he hoped they had enough of a sense of self-preservation to stay away. The drive back to his house took less than half the time it normally did, as Dom made sure he drove at least twenty kilometres above the speed limit the whole way. Wanting nothing more than solitude, he headed into his house and twisted the deadbolt into place to keep out any unwanted visitors.

The mess in the kitchen was almost welcoming as Dom threw himself into one of the chairs and laid his head on the table. His home was a small disaster area but so was everything else and it was vaguely comforting, in its own way.

After a few minutes, Dominic raised his head and stared at his abandoned cup of coffee. He could see the grinds floating in it and he had no idea how he’d managed to miss them that morning.

“Can’t even make a cup of coffee,” Dom muttered. He swirled the cup around, watching as the dark liquid inside nearly sloshed over the edge. If Viggo were here, he’d no doubt come up with something profound and confusing. Dom could almost hear his friend’s voice as he prattled on about how the cold cup of coffee was really symbolic of his life and how the grinds represented the mess he’d turned it into.

Quickly deciding that he'd had enough of the coffee cup epiphanies, Dominic pushed away from the table and left the kitchen. As he trudged up the stairs toward his bedroom, he was glad that Viggo wasn’t there with him. Dom would be really tempted to hit him.