monaboyd | Top Of The World

Title: Top Of The World 1/4
Author: Pippin (McTaggart_Pegg@hotmail.com)
Pairing: DomBilleh
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of language
Warning: Briefly mentions auto racing. Deal with it. No sheep were harmed in the filming of this fic.
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, never met 'em, this is all lies. (*sigh*)
Summary: Dom objects to being knocked over and trod upon.
Feedback: Yes please. Pretty please. I've discovered I'm a feedback junkie.

Edit: Oh bugger, I did it again.

1420 should kick my ass for leaving her name off instead of shouting from the rooftops that she's the best beta out there. 'Cos she is.

"Bill, slow down!"

Billy lifted his foot a fraction off the gas pedal, decreasing their speed by, at most, 3kph. "What?"

Dom groaned and closed his eyes, but as he was tossed against the passenger-side door they snapped open again in fear. "Bill!"

"What?"

"Slow the fuck down!"

Billy slowed another 2kph. "What is your problem? You'd think you'd never driven with me before."

"You don't usually drive like a fucking lunatic! In New Zealand you drove like my grandmother, in Glasgow at least you're semi-normal, but suddenly you're Jackie-fucking-Stewart!" he ground out, his knuckles white on the door handle.

"Who?"

"Jackie--oh, never mind. Just quit trying to drive like you're at Indianapolis, would you?"

"I wish you'd make up your mind if you're British or American," Billy said mildly. "Shouldn't you have said 'Silverstone', if I'm driving like Jackie-fucking-Stewart?"

"So you do know who I'm talking about," he accused.

"Well--only vaguely," Billy admitted. "Recognize the name from when my dad used to watch racing. I mean, Scottish, isn't he? But really I'm just trying to take your mind off this new phobia you seem to have developed."

"What, driving with you? It's not so much a phobia as a deep-seated fear of death," Dom moaned.

"Isn't that the definition of a phobia? A deep-seated fear?"

"Shut your gob. Don't look at me!" he shrieked, stabbing a finger toward the windshield. "Eyes on the goddamned road!"

"We're not going that fast, Dom," he said reasonably. His gaze flicked to the speedometer. "We're only doing 50, for Pete's sake!"

"On a curvy one-lane road flanked by stone-fucking-walls!" Dom's right hand grabbed at the dashboard.

"I know this road like the back of my hand. Relax."

"Where'd you get that scar?" Dom asked, a challenge in his voice, pointing to Billy's hand on the gearshift.

Billy frowned, lifting the offending hand up in front of him, squinted at it. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Oh my God, we're going to die!" Dom shouted.

Billy reached over to grip Dom's shoulder, suddenly unsure exactly how much of this was in fun. "I'm just winding you up, idiot."

Dom rolled his eyes, reassuring Billy. "I know that. I'm just trying to distract myself from the fact that you've got two fingers on the wheel, one eye on the road, and a lead foot. And that at any moment a lorry could come hurtling around the next corner, a maniac like you at the wheel, and the inevitable explosion will blow us into oblivion."

"Cheerful bastard, aren't you? Besides, lorries aren't allowed to use this road."

"Fine. Another car, then."

"Dom, have you not noticed the fucking grass growing down the centre of the lane?" Billy asked, laughter in his voice.

Dom looked. Frowned. "No, I didn't."

"It's a private road. We won't meet another car, because no one uses it."

"Where the hell are we going, then?"

"I told you--someplace quiet."

"Well, slow down anyway. Give my nerves a kip."

Billy looked over at him, grinning. "The only thing we could possibly hit--"

"Sheep!"

"Exactly. So--"

"Bill--sheep! Fucking SHEEP, Bill!" Dom shouted, nearly flailing in his agitation.

Billy snapped his eyes back to the road, quickly braking and automatically gearing down. The car came to a dusty, sliding halt four feet from a herd of sheep, milling uncertainly and nervously in the lane, blocking it entirely.

Dom panted, staring with eyes nearly as wide as those of the sheep staring right back at him. Billy took one look at them both and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, laughing until he wept.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Dom grumbled, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"You!" he howled. "Oh my good God above, you are beyond hope!"

"Piss off, Boyd," Dom growled, annoyed. "If you were sitting on this side, you wouldn't be so cool either. What the hell do we do now, sit here until they decide to move?"

Billy wiped his eyes, still chuckling. "Nope. Get out of the car, shepherd boy."

Dom stared at him. "You're having me on."

Billy grinned. "Far from it, my lad. If we wait, we could be here all day, who knows? Get out."

"No. No fucking way. You're so sure about it, you move them."

"Don't tell me you're scared of sheep, too."

"I am not scared of sheep," Dom bristled. "I just object to being knocked over and trod upon."

"This has happened before?" Billy asked curiously.

"Yes." He offered no further detail.

"And how old were you?"

"Seven. I don't want to talk about it."

Billy bit his lip, looked away. Took a moment. Finally said, "Fine. I'll move them, but you'll have to scootch over and drive."

"Fine."

Billy climbed out of the car. He found a fallen branch on top of the tree-hung stone wall, brandished it with a shout, started the sheep slowly moving ahead of him. He had to keep reaching to either side with his leafy stick to prevent them from curving back around the car.

Dom watched, mesmerized. Had the sudden and disorienting feeling he'd entered another world. A looking-glass moment in which he watched an unknown young lad driving his flock before him…

"Hey! Monaghan! Shift your arse, dammit!"

Dom started. He quickly--and carefully--maneuvered over the gearshift into the driver's seat. He put the car into first and crept forward. The noise of the engine following directly behind them gave the sheep an added impetus to move, and they suddenly, finally picked up speed. They took off, leaping over other woolly backs, madly running pell-mell down the narrow lane.

Billy also picked up his pace, jogging behind, just to make sure none of them wheeled back into Dom's path. The sheep quickly left him behind, though, and as they rounded a far curve, Billy slowed to a halt, waited for Dom to pull up behind him. Dom threw on the emergency brake and clambered back into the passenger seat. Billy climbed in, released the brake, and slowly set off again.

Dom looked at Billy curiously. "So is shepherding on your CV, then?"

"No. You think it should be?"

"Oh, absolutely, an invaluable skill, that is. Done it much? You looked a right natural."

Billy grinned. "Never. Not many sheep running around a council estate, is there? But I watched someone else do it--on this very road, as a matter of fact--and it looked remarkably easy. It is, you know."

"I'll take your word for it," Dom said wryly, settling back in his seat. He was much more comfortable with the sedate speed Billy had finally adopted.

They rounded another corner, and the vista opened up before them. The stone walls fell away, and off to the right Dom could see their flock of sheep, now contentedly, peacefully cropping the grass amongst the heather, right where they belonged.

Billy put his foot to the floor.

Dom gritted his teeth, grabbed the door handle, braced his feet on the floor. "Fucker."

Billy just laughed.

"Seriously, are you actively trying to make me shit my pants?"

"There are no walls anymore. What's the problem?"

"You're an arsehole. That's the problem. An arsehole. You know that, don't you?"

Billy grinned. Took a sharp corner at speed, the back wheels sliding just enough to make Dom clutch at his seat, close his eyes, and moan, "I hate you."

Billy chuckled delightedly as the car crested over one last hill, then coasted to a stop. "Open your eyes, hen."

Dom opened them and looked around. He saw grass, and dune, and shingle, and ocean. He saw sky and sea, and not a sign of civilization outside of their car. His breath caught. "Where are we?" he asked reverently.

Current Mood: salty
Current Music: Peter Gabriel - Don't Give Up

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Date: 2004-03-08 07:39 pm (UTC)

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