Straight Translators, Chapter Ten

[writteninsable.livejournal.com]

Title: Straight Translators
Author: red_moon_rising (or Cai)
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Feedback: Yes, please.
Note #1: Thanks ever so much to arabella_o for the beta. She’s fabulous like that.
Note #2: Oh god. It’s almost over…how would you guys feel if my next bit was the backstory for the Orlando/Viggo? It’ll be posted at my LJ instead of here, of course, but I’d like some opinions…
Note #3: Also, I'm afraid the various languages don't make an appearance in this chapter, and they don't make much of one in Chapter 11, but ST11's very rough at the moment, so I'll probably try to stick some German and Gaelic in there in my edits.

Previous Chapters can be found here.

Also, just for kicks, if you like my stuff, go check out arabella_o's. It can be found here.

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Billy could feel his expression hardening, his eyes narrowing and his lips pursing. He had to consciously remind himself that his head couldn’t handle a clenched jaw at the moment, even as light as his hangover was. He tore his eyes from Dom’s disheveled self and tossed his dripping tea bag in the trashcan. He turned, searching for the paper towels in a last-ditch effort to soothe his rising temper. When he finally found the towels he clutched the roll in his hands and asked, his voice deceptively calm, “Someone else, was I?”

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Dom was quite sure the grimace he felt spreading across his face would shatter a mirror. He closed his eyes, feeling his insides knotting up and his stomach churning dangerously. He clenched his jaw and wordlessly shook his head, not caring that Billy’s back was turned.

Billy’s shoulders were tensed when Dom opened his eyes and he was just trying to work up the courage to say something, anything, when Billy asked, “Well, who’d you think I was, then?”

Dom just stared for a moment and then sighed. Pulling a chair away from the kitchen table, he decided that, if he had to have this conversation, he might as well be sitting down. Falling into the chair, he sighed once more and looked up at Billy, waiting for him to turn around. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Dom said, “Billy—” but he couldn’t come up with anything that sounded convincing, even to himself. So he bit his tongue and stared at the grain on the wooden table-top, swirling his fingertips around in patterns, and waited for Billy to start yelling at him.

Not that Billy ever really yells, he thought, almost wishing that the other man would yell. No. He’ll just look at me in that way he’s got and he’ll shake his head and then leave just as quietly as ever…and he’ll leave his fucking tea. Because that will make me feel even worse than I already do. Making him miss his morning tea…

“You know, for an actor, you’ve got a really shitty poker face, Dom.” Billy’s voice was soft and Dom’s head snapped up. The other man had turned around and leaned his hip against the counter near his cup of tea.

“Excuse me?” Dom couldn’t help the indignant note that had crept into his voice. He narrowed his eyes, trying to keep his what the fuck expression from spreading over his face.

Billy just shook his head and said quietly, “You couldn’t hide that look if your life depended on it.” He reached for his tea, his hand skimming the counter a bit as his fingers wrapped around the cup. He sipped, keeping his eyes trained on Dominic.

Dom, on the other hand, had glanced at the door leading to the living room, the one leading to the patio, and the one leading to the garage, planning his escape. Billy just shook his head again, a small smile playing about his lips, and said, “Don't bother trying to run. I've got a key to your condo, you daft twat, and I lifted the keys to your car so you couldn't go anywhere anyway.”

Dominic’s hand dropped to his pants pocket before remembering that he'd left his keys in the front hall. He groaned. Giving up all pretense of coherency he let his forehead thunk down on the tabletop, then wished he hadn’t. He barely stifled a moan of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut and pillowed his forehead on his arms.

“Do you know that I never really knew what she was talking about until just now? Well, last night, actually, but she was right,” Billy told him. Dom had the distinct feeling that, should he look up, Billy would be gesturing with his cup of tea.

“Who?” Dom asked the tabletop, really wishing he’d thought about getting tea before sitting down. Couldn’t get up now, even if I really, really wanted to…

“Ali, of course. There at the end, she was always going on about how my life revolved around my friends… friends like you. It never really connected, you know? I never got what she was telling me.” Billy’s smile was sad as he turned to look out the small window above the sink. “That’s why she left me, you know. All the premieres and awards shows, the cons and things. She said that I spent more time on airplanes than I did with her.”

Dom’s breath was fogging the stained wood beneath his nose as he listened to Billy speak. He was tempted to tune Billy out, but he knew that what he was saying was important. Probably vital. God, I wish I wasn’t hungover…

“Everything always came back to you. Always. It was like I was on a ride at the fair and I just kept getting back on, even after it made me sick. Ali said you’d make me sick, you know. She said I’d get too much of you, like candy, and that you’d ruin me,” Billy’s voice was still soft, but it was fading away, like he was walking backward, and Dom couldn’t quite tell if it was really happening or if he was just losing his mind, so he turned his head and opened his eyes.

Billy was still standing there, hip pressed to the counter, teacup in hand, and he was still talking. Must just be my mind, then, Dom thought, trying to pay attention to the words he could see Billy’s lips forming.

“I can’t believe I never saw it. Or, maybe I saw it, but I couldn’t admit it,” Billy was saying, and Dom got the overwhelming impression that he’d missed something critical.

He blinked for a moment before trying to delicately interrupt Billy’s speech. “What couldn’t you believe?” He asked, praying that Billy hadn’t already told him. He could only take looking like a fool once or twice on a regular morning. A hungover morning was definitely not the time to push the boundaries and find out if he could go for three or four.

“Ah, but you see,” Billy told him, pointing the cup of tea at him, “That’s what I could never understand. And it’s rather hard to believe something when you don’t even know what it is. But I do now.”

“Bills, my head feels like it’s going to explode, could you please just tell me that you hate me for what I wrote and leave me in peace?” Dom’s mouth was dry, his voice scratchy, and he was quite sure his breath would kill. He didn’t want to listen to Billy going on in riddles and metaphors. He didn’t want to make this ordeal any longer than it had to be.

“Here,” Billy said, sitting the cup of tea in front of him, “Drink that and listen, why don’t you? If you’d been paying attention you’d have realized I don’t hate you.”

Dom stared at the cup of tea for a moment before sitting up straight. He sipped at it, loving the fact that it was just the right temperature, and watched as Billy bustled about making himself another cup. Dominic almost felt bad about taking Billy’s tea, except that it tasted wonderful when compared to his mouth, so he couldn’t really bring himself to feel all that guilty about drinking it.

After a few moments of silence Dom realized that Billy was just using the tea-making as an excuse to stop talking, so he gulped down the last bit of his tea, set the cup on the table in front of him, and asked, “So if you don’t hate me, what was last night about?”

Billy paused, tea bag suspended above his now-steaming cup of water. He looked like he was actually considering how best to reply to Dom’s question. “Last night,” Billy said slowly, letting his tea bag sink to the bottom of his cup, “Was me not handling your ‘I thought you were somebody else’ response well.”

Dom thought about that for a moment before replying, “But, if I recall correctly and, considering the amount of vodka I drank last night, I’m not very sure about this, the ‘Damn it, Dom. You bloody fucking cunt’ bit came before my ‘I thought you were someone else.’”

Billy began lifting his tea bag up and down, making the tea turn a rich, dark brown. He paused, though, and glanced at Dom before telling him, “But if you hadn’t been so quick to jump in you might’ve heard the rest of what I’d planned on saying.”

“What was it, then?” Dom asked, telling himself not to hold his breath. Don’t you dare fucking hold your breath, Monaghan. More likely than not your face will turn blue and you’ll die of self-inflicted asphyxiation. And then where will you be? Worse off than you are now, that’s for sure…

Billy looked down, taking his tea bag from the cup and throwing it away. He busied himself cleaning up the trail of tea on the counter and fiddling with his cup, not answering until Dom prompted him again with, “Well?”

When Billy looked back up there was a strange expression on his face and he said, “But you know? That’s alright…”