meow 4 (lotrips, dom/elijah)
Title: Meow 4/?
Pairing: Dom/Elijah
Rating/Warnings: PG. None yet.
Notes: Aka the werekitten fic.
*
Of course on the Rings set, the younger actors admire their more experienced elders and everyone has a great deal of respect for one another, "And all that rot," Dom says, "but enough's enough, time to have a bit of fun."
Sean looks at the stack of DVDs in Dom's hands. "Uhh... nah, I'm not in this one."
"Suit yourself."
"You doing this?" Sean asks Elijah.
"I helped pick 'em out. I don't think these guys even knew where the IMDb was."
"I did! Sort of." Dom chooses a pair of films from the middle of the stack. "We should start with Sir Ian."
"Then everyone'll definitely know it was you," says Sean.
"Everyone always thinks everything's us anyway," Billy says.
Elijah snatches The Shadow and Last Action Hero from Dom's hand. "I'll do the honors."
*
Sir Ian regularly objected to their music with a sort of snarled roar from his side of the makeup trailer, so Dominic rather assumed his response to the videos would be the same-- a bellow of annoyance subsiding into mutters, perhaps a glare or two during the first setup of the day.
Instead, he appears in their doorway with the DVDs in hand, looking early-morning weary, but rather elegant with none of his Gandalf gear on yet. In his sonorous voice he inquires, "Was there something you wanted to communicate, gentlemen?"
"We've been watching each others' films," says Billy, "it was your turn."
"After we watched them, we thought you might like those as keepsakes," Dom adds. "We'd make you a present of more of them, but we can't bear to part with any of the Shakespeare."
Sir Ian still looks quite chilly and remote. Dom briefly fears that the whole thing was a suicidally awful idea. But then Ian purses his mouth with a wry quirk and says, "You had better surprise John with a copy of that dreadful King Solomon's Mines, or I'll know the reason why."
"We're on it," Elijah beams.
"I expect you to deliver him a stack at least six inches high. From each according to his ability, to each according to his sins," Sir Ian pronounces dramatically, and begins tramping back down the metal stairs, grumbling, "If I have to hear one more story from the set of I, Claudius..."
"He was in a Chuck Norris movie!" Elijah shouts after him. They can hear Sir Ian laughing through the wall.
*
Subsequent deliveries are immediately blamed on Dom and Billy, of course, even though Viggo gets his when they're nowhere near, off doing motion capture while the others are doing Council of Elrond coverage.
John gets the Chuck Norris film, King Solomon's Mines, Bloodsport III, and Waxwork. Viggo gets Texas Chainsaw Massacre III.
"I wish we could've got everyone a part III," Dom says, "we had a nice symmetry going. But Ian didn't have one."
"Richard III," Billy says.
"Yeah, but that's not really in the spirit of the thing, is it."
At Billy's insistence, they do buck the spirit of the thing for Christopher Lee. They leave a copy of The Wicker Man in his trailer, because Billy read once that it was his favorite role.
"You've got off easily in the hobbits' little CV game," Sir Ian tells him during a lunch, making sure Dom and Billy are in earshot.
"They could hardly give me the same treatment as the rest of you," Lee replies. "The Hammer films alone would outweigh them."
*
"At first I thought it was cool that no one suspected me," Elijah says around a cigarette, "but come the fuck on. You guys weren't even on set."
"Don't twitch, Dom," says Mathilde, peeling his hobbit-foot painstakingly away from his skin.
"Sorry, sorry. Only it's a bit difficult when you're pulling hairs out."
"I went for a smoke, Viggo found the movie like five minutes later," Elijah exhales whitely, careful to direct the smoke away from the makeup artists. "I was the only one around. And they still blamed you guys!"
"What d'you expect?" Dom asks. "Everyone round here thinks you're a perfect angel. You're like the baby of the family."
Billy scoffs, "A baby who swears like a sailor and smokes like a chimney?"
"That's how we raise them in Manchester!"
"So how do I get people to knock that shit off?" Elijah asks. "Okay, I know I'm nineteen. And short. But come on!"
"None of your 'old soul' shite, for starters," says Billy. "That may work in California, but everyone round here'll think you sound like a twat."
"Don't ruin it, Lijah! That's the last thing you want!" Dom says. "If everyone thinks you're sweet and innocent, just imagine what you can get away with!"
"Now, Mr. Pippin, Mr. Merry," Sean chides in Sam's gentle accent, "stop corrupting Mr. Frodo."
"If we were out to corrupt Frodo, I'm sure we could think of better ways than that," says Dom.
Elijah cranes his neck to look over. "Such as?"
"It would involve," Dom casts about, "strong drink, a comb, a whistle..."
Billy picks it up, "A smallish pot of honey. Some twine."
"Lavender oil and some crushed cloves. And a good three or four hours, gardener-free."
Sean snorts. "Is this corruption, or a recipe for mulled wine?"
"Both?" Billy suggests.
"I fucking love mulled wine," Elijah says, in such a perfect deadpan that Dom, even as he laughs, isn't sure Elijah's making a joke.
*
Another day of shooting, another mountainside. Viggo is off doing whatever mad foresting lark he imagines Aragorn would get up to, and Orlando's trailing along after him like a loose shoelace. Sir Ian's sitting having his beard repaired, John and Brett are comparing their dwarvish fighting moves, Kiran has a chess game going with Debra from makeup, and everyone else is either flitting about like mad preparing to shoot, or loitering about the craft services table.
"Bit samey, isn't it, this week," Dom comments.
Elijah grins, waving a hand down toward the almost unreal spread of beautiful landscape before and below them. "Yeah. But when this kind of stuff's the same, I don't mind, do you? Just look at that."
In fact Dom was just that moment thinking that even the stupendous view was beginning to seem a bit banal, but in the light of Elijah's huge smile it seems terribly churlish to say so.
They spend hours climbing the crest of the hill. Barrie says they need lots of coverage, due to the scale issues. "That looked good, but I want to get one with the hobbit size doubles just in case. Line up, let's do another pass!"
"What's this 'just in case'? I thought the scale stuff was all planned out with storyboards and that," Dom hisses to Billy.
"Never believe it," Billy mutters back.
Come lunchtime, Dom remembers his family sent him Kinder Eggs, and fetches them from his trailer. He has six, not enough to share out to the entire Fellowship, too many to hoard all to himself. He gives one to his size double, Martin, who ought to have one before anyone else, as he actually is a kind.
"What are they?" asks Elijah when Dom offers them round at the hobbits' table.
"Kinder Eggs? They're lovely nummy chocolates with toys in." Dom waggles one temptingly.
"Toys?" Elijah snatches it and starts peeling away the foil.
"Eh, Sean? Kinder Egg? Though the toys come in bits, so it wouldn't be good for Ali, I'm afraid."
"I'll skip it, then."
"It's still lovely choccy though, go on then. You can always give the toy to Lijah."
"He can have the whole thing of mine."
"But you can at least have the eggshell! Oh, go on, you'll have one. Go on go on go on go on go on." He's making himself laugh, doing the housekeeper from Father Ted. Then he realizes the other two aren't twigging to it. Americans.
"No thanks," Sean says.
"Hey, this is pretty cool!" Elijah approves. He's snapped together the pieces to make a frog toy that jumps when he taps it.
"Mine's a..." Dom consults the slip of paper wrapped up in his egg. "--paper clip? Paper clips aren't toys! I've been robbed."
Billy sits next to him, plate heaped with food, and nicks a Kinder Egg even before Dom offers one.
"Oi!"
"You were saying you're being robbed," says Billy, "I thought you were prophesizing."
"Billy!" Dom holds up his paper clip. It's shaped like a fish. "These are small..." He points into the distance. "Those are far away."
Bill snickers gratifyingly. Both Elijah and Sean turn to look where Dom's pointing, which only makes it funnier.
"It's from Father Ted," Dom tells them smugly.
They finish eating and idle about. It's another fifteen til they're back on call, and it'll probably be another hour before they're needed, but no one seems disposed to retire to their trailers. Billy puts his Kinder Egg toy together. It's a tiny wooden plane that drives Elijah into raptures of envy.
"It's so awesome! You gotta trade me."
"Mmm, I don't think I do."
"Come on, little cousin!" Elijah's lips curve back, showing the gap between his front teeth.
"And the hell of it is, he'd look the part, bloody Took," Dom says. "Well. If Elijah didn't look twelve at the outside."
"Hey!"
"Only don't be fooled, Billy's ancient really. He's got the portrait of Billian Gray locked away somewhere, it's eleventy-one by now, at least! Watch yourself, Lijah, he'll shake his cane at you."
"I'll show you a caning," Billy makes as if to come after him, miming rolling up the sleeves of Pippin's coat.
"You'll show me what?!" Dom pitches his scandalized voice to carry, ducking as Billy feints at him. "Help! Scottish molestation!"
"You wish," says Sean.
That knocks Dom back a step. Not that he thought he was hiding anything-- he's never put much stock in subtlety-- but he didn't expect to have it thrown in his face like that either.
Billy ignores it, taking the chance to collar Dom, though gently, mindful of his costume. "That's it, Monaghan. It's the cloak for you."
"Not the cloak! Please, Bill! Please! Anything but the cloak!"
They can all laugh a bit over that, as Dom's allergy to his costume's wool cloak is a bit of a running joke with everyone by now, from Pete on down.
"Sorry, mate. Time for a cloaking." Billy pretends to drag Dom by his ear back to the set.
*
It's a long day with loads of climbing, hiking, making camp and striking camp and hiking some more. "Could be worse," Orlando says as they tramp along the same stretch of woods for the twentieth time. "Liv's stuck riding her mechanical horse again today."
Billy covers Dom's mouth. "Leave it. Too easy."
By the evening, the entire cast and crew is getting a bit knackered and short-tempered. Dom decides to keep well out of range of everyone's swords and sticks.
"I was hoping to wait out the day, but it's no use. I'll have to visit the port-a-loos," Billy says.
Dom hugs him. "I'll pray for you."
Elijah falls into step with Dom on the way back to the makeup trailer. "Man, I'm so lost. What're we on now, chapter ninety million?"
"We've just now got to page one, didn't anyone tell you the first bit's just prologue?"
"I thought The Hobbit was the prologue."
"That's the pre-prologue. You think it's tough now, wait'll we get to the bit where Legolas dies."
"Legolas doesn't die!"
"Well, everyone's so fond of Orli, no one wanted to put it into the script, but in the books..."
"You lying motherfucker."
"You'll see when you've read to the end. Legolas dies, Aragorn dies, Sam dies, it's a massacre."
"You're so full of shit," Elijah says, poking him. "Hey. Sean's sorry about what he said earlier."
"Mmm," Dom rumbles noncommitally.
"About you and Billy," Elijah presses on. "He didn't mean to piss you guys off. It's like how you and Bill are always saying you've got your British style of humor that we don't get. It's kind of like that with me and Sean and LA type humor."
"What then, that's LA humor? Tossing out a sort of randomly catty remark whenever the opportunity presents itself?"
"Umm, yeah, that basically sums it up. But you know, he didn't mean anything."
"It's all right, I'm not bothered."
"I think he was just kind of in a bad mood because you were pushing food at him."
"You what?"
"The chocolate egg things."
"I wasn't pushing it on him. I was trying to be friendly!"
"I know, I know. He's just kind of oversensitive, you know? Peter and Fran are always kind of pressuring him to put on weight, it's getting to him." Elijah stops as they near the trailer. "Not like it's an excuse, but just so you know."
"All right," Dom shrugs, stopping as well. He keeps waiting for Elijah to move on, but Lijah idles, hands in the pockets of Frodo's velvet jacket.
"Um. Okay, don't take this the wrong way. But I can't always tell when you're joking, so. Are you guys...?"
"No, no. It's all in good fun, me and Billy." Oh well, as long as the salt's rubbing well into the wound, might as well laugh. "He's not one for the lads, Billy. Turned me down flat. But then, they all have, the whole Fellowship. I've gone round to all their trailers hitting everyone up for a shag, can't get so much as the time of day."
"You haven't come to my trailer."
"I'm going south-to-northeasterly and anti-clockwise. Don't worry, I'll work my way round to yours. I'm quite looking forward to it. No one's slammed a door in my face outright yet, maybe you can be the lucky first."
Elijah has a funny sort of smile, as if it's all getting a bit much. Of course growing up looking like Elijah in Hollywood must've made for a sort of minefield of indecent proposals. Possibly Dom should gear down a bit on the innuendo. Elijah's all tolerance though, finally saying, "Come on, like I'd do that."
"You'd probably be a bit more tactful about it." Dom tries on his attempt at Elijah's accent: "'Dude! Not even!'"
Billy comes round the makeup trailer from the back and spots them, eyebrows shooting up as he walks over. "Still out here? Is there a queue to the makeup chair?"
"You survived!" Dom says, thumping his back. "Good man!"
"We were waiting for you," Elijah starts toward the trailer.
"That's kind of you," says Billy, "which means it can't be true."
"We've been talking. Lijah wanted to know if I'm your giiiirlfriend."
Billy says, "Silly Yank. He's not my girlfriend, he's my bitch. And so're you. Everyone is. I am going to be Thain, after all."
"That might make the hobbits your bitches," says Elijah, "but not the elves or the men. And definitely not Aragorn! He's the King!"
"Doesn't matter, he's still Pippin's bitch," says Billy. "Just you ask Viggo."
*
Dominic goes out to dinner with Billy and two of the WETA techs, Rob and Frank. When he gets home at last, Cricket's in a neat little black coil on his sofa.
"Hiya, Cricket," Dom says. The kitten demonstrates his enthusiasm by staying exactly where he is and licking his paw with a tongue that's shocking pink against his dark fur. He doesn't budge til Dom puts food out and calls him, and even then it's more of a saunter.
"I thought cats were affectionate, always jumping into laps and that." Dom bends to scratch the top of Cricket's head gently. "It's already late, I'll be asleep soon. You won't have me about to ignore for long!"
The kitten gives a little chirrup at that, though it probably has more to do with the milk dish being empty.
"Tell you a secret," Dom pours the milk out. "I don't think Sean likes me much." Cricket tips his head up a bit, twitching milk droplets off his whiskers. "No, not that Sean, the other one, Astin."
Cricket forsakes the food dish to rub his fuzzy cheek against Dom's ankle. Dominic knows the gesture isn't really affectionate, cats just do it to mark things with their scent, but it feels friendly and comforting all the same.
"Tell you another secret. I don't think I like him all that terribly much either."
Apparently Dom's ankle is well marked, because Cricket stops rubbing and returns to his milk with a pronounced flick of his tail.
"What, you as well?" Dom laughs. "Tch, it'll be all right. We don't have to be all that keen on each other to be friendly. Me and Sean, that is. If you don't like me, that's another story. Don't see why I should keep milk in for an ungrateful kitten."
Dom kneels and strokes Cricket's soft ears. "Though I suppose it wouldn't really stop me feeding you. It's not as if any of my reptiles have ever been very sociable. And I've had insects for pets who were really quite hostile. That might've been cos they mistook me for something that meant to eat them." Cricket's back bends up, pushing against Dom's hands; Dom scoops him up. "I can promise not to eat you, if you like. Hmm? I swear faithfully that I will never roast or stew you, barbeque or fillet you, I promise never to make kitten pasties or kitten pie..."
He holds Cricket high on his chest, and Cricket arches up and rubs the top of his head under Dom's chin.
"I'll make you a little tag up, on one side it'll say 'Cricket' and on the other it'll say 'I'm not food', would you like that?"
Cricket purrs; Dom takes that as a yes.
***
Pairing: Dom/Elijah
Rating/Warnings: PG. None yet.
Notes: Aka the werekitten fic.
*
Of course on the Rings set, the younger actors admire their more experienced elders and everyone has a great deal of respect for one another, "And all that rot," Dom says, "but enough's enough, time to have a bit of fun."
Sean looks at the stack of DVDs in Dom's hands. "Uhh... nah, I'm not in this one."
"Suit yourself."
"You doing this?" Sean asks Elijah.
"I helped pick 'em out. I don't think these guys even knew where the IMDb was."
"I did! Sort of." Dom chooses a pair of films from the middle of the stack. "We should start with Sir Ian."
"Then everyone'll definitely know it was you," says Sean.
"Everyone always thinks everything's us anyway," Billy says.
Elijah snatches The Shadow and Last Action Hero from Dom's hand. "I'll do the honors."
*
Sir Ian regularly objected to their music with a sort of snarled roar from his side of the makeup trailer, so Dominic rather assumed his response to the videos would be the same-- a bellow of annoyance subsiding into mutters, perhaps a glare or two during the first setup of the day.
Instead, he appears in their doorway with the DVDs in hand, looking early-morning weary, but rather elegant with none of his Gandalf gear on yet. In his sonorous voice he inquires, "Was there something you wanted to communicate, gentlemen?"
"We've been watching each others' films," says Billy, "it was your turn."
"After we watched them, we thought you might like those as keepsakes," Dom adds. "We'd make you a present of more of them, but we can't bear to part with any of the Shakespeare."
Sir Ian still looks quite chilly and remote. Dom briefly fears that the whole thing was a suicidally awful idea. But then Ian purses his mouth with a wry quirk and says, "You had better surprise John with a copy of that dreadful King Solomon's Mines, or I'll know the reason why."
"We're on it," Elijah beams.
"I expect you to deliver him a stack at least six inches high. From each according to his ability, to each according to his sins," Sir Ian pronounces dramatically, and begins tramping back down the metal stairs, grumbling, "If I have to hear one more story from the set of I, Claudius..."
"He was in a Chuck Norris movie!" Elijah shouts after him. They can hear Sir Ian laughing through the wall.
*
Subsequent deliveries are immediately blamed on Dom and Billy, of course, even though Viggo gets his when they're nowhere near, off doing motion capture while the others are doing Council of Elrond coverage.
John gets the Chuck Norris film, King Solomon's Mines, Bloodsport III, and Waxwork. Viggo gets Texas Chainsaw Massacre III.
"I wish we could've got everyone a part III," Dom says, "we had a nice symmetry going. But Ian didn't have one."
"Richard III," Billy says.
"Yeah, but that's not really in the spirit of the thing, is it."
At Billy's insistence, they do buck the spirit of the thing for Christopher Lee. They leave a copy of The Wicker Man in his trailer, because Billy read once that it was his favorite role.
"You've got off easily in the hobbits' little CV game," Sir Ian tells him during a lunch, making sure Dom and Billy are in earshot.
"They could hardly give me the same treatment as the rest of you," Lee replies. "The Hammer films alone would outweigh them."
*
"At first I thought it was cool that no one suspected me," Elijah says around a cigarette, "but come the fuck on. You guys weren't even on set."
"Don't twitch, Dom," says Mathilde, peeling his hobbit-foot painstakingly away from his skin.
"Sorry, sorry. Only it's a bit difficult when you're pulling hairs out."
"I went for a smoke, Viggo found the movie like five minutes later," Elijah exhales whitely, careful to direct the smoke away from the makeup artists. "I was the only one around. And they still blamed you guys!"
"What d'you expect?" Dom asks. "Everyone round here thinks you're a perfect angel. You're like the baby of the family."
Billy scoffs, "A baby who swears like a sailor and smokes like a chimney?"
"That's how we raise them in Manchester!"
"So how do I get people to knock that shit off?" Elijah asks. "Okay, I know I'm nineteen. And short. But come on!"
"None of your 'old soul' shite, for starters," says Billy. "That may work in California, but everyone round here'll think you sound like a twat."
"Don't ruin it, Lijah! That's the last thing you want!" Dom says. "If everyone thinks you're sweet and innocent, just imagine what you can get away with!"
"Now, Mr. Pippin, Mr. Merry," Sean chides in Sam's gentle accent, "stop corrupting Mr. Frodo."
"If we were out to corrupt Frodo, I'm sure we could think of better ways than that," says Dom.
Elijah cranes his neck to look over. "Such as?"
"It would involve," Dom casts about, "strong drink, a comb, a whistle..."
Billy picks it up, "A smallish pot of honey. Some twine."
"Lavender oil and some crushed cloves. And a good three or four hours, gardener-free."
Sean snorts. "Is this corruption, or a recipe for mulled wine?"
"Both?" Billy suggests.
"I fucking love mulled wine," Elijah says, in such a perfect deadpan that Dom, even as he laughs, isn't sure Elijah's making a joke.
*
Another day of shooting, another mountainside. Viggo is off doing whatever mad foresting lark he imagines Aragorn would get up to, and Orlando's trailing along after him like a loose shoelace. Sir Ian's sitting having his beard repaired, John and Brett are comparing their dwarvish fighting moves, Kiran has a chess game going with Debra from makeup, and everyone else is either flitting about like mad preparing to shoot, or loitering about the craft services table.
"Bit samey, isn't it, this week," Dom comments.
Elijah grins, waving a hand down toward the almost unreal spread of beautiful landscape before and below them. "Yeah. But when this kind of stuff's the same, I don't mind, do you? Just look at that."
In fact Dom was just that moment thinking that even the stupendous view was beginning to seem a bit banal, but in the light of Elijah's huge smile it seems terribly churlish to say so.
They spend hours climbing the crest of the hill. Barrie says they need lots of coverage, due to the scale issues. "That looked good, but I want to get one with the hobbit size doubles just in case. Line up, let's do another pass!"
"What's this 'just in case'? I thought the scale stuff was all planned out with storyboards and that," Dom hisses to Billy.
"Never believe it," Billy mutters back.
Come lunchtime, Dom remembers his family sent him Kinder Eggs, and fetches them from his trailer. He has six, not enough to share out to the entire Fellowship, too many to hoard all to himself. He gives one to his size double, Martin, who ought to have one before anyone else, as he actually is a kind.
"What are they?" asks Elijah when Dom offers them round at the hobbits' table.
"Kinder Eggs? They're lovely nummy chocolates with toys in." Dom waggles one temptingly.
"Toys?" Elijah snatches it and starts peeling away the foil.
"Eh, Sean? Kinder Egg? Though the toys come in bits, so it wouldn't be good for Ali, I'm afraid."
"I'll skip it, then."
"It's still lovely choccy though, go on then. You can always give the toy to Lijah."
"He can have the whole thing of mine."
"But you can at least have the eggshell! Oh, go on, you'll have one. Go on go on go on go on go on." He's making himself laugh, doing the housekeeper from Father Ted. Then he realizes the other two aren't twigging to it. Americans.
"No thanks," Sean says.
"Hey, this is pretty cool!" Elijah approves. He's snapped together the pieces to make a frog toy that jumps when he taps it.
"Mine's a..." Dom consults the slip of paper wrapped up in his egg. "--paper clip? Paper clips aren't toys! I've been robbed."
Billy sits next to him, plate heaped with food, and nicks a Kinder Egg even before Dom offers one.
"Oi!"
"You were saying you're being robbed," says Billy, "I thought you were prophesizing."
"Billy!" Dom holds up his paper clip. It's shaped like a fish. "These are small..." He points into the distance. "Those are far away."
Bill snickers gratifyingly. Both Elijah and Sean turn to look where Dom's pointing, which only makes it funnier.
"It's from Father Ted," Dom tells them smugly.
They finish eating and idle about. It's another fifteen til they're back on call, and it'll probably be another hour before they're needed, but no one seems disposed to retire to their trailers. Billy puts his Kinder Egg toy together. It's a tiny wooden plane that drives Elijah into raptures of envy.
"It's so awesome! You gotta trade me."
"Mmm, I don't think I do."
"Come on, little cousin!" Elijah's lips curve back, showing the gap between his front teeth.
"And the hell of it is, he'd look the part, bloody Took," Dom says. "Well. If Elijah didn't look twelve at the outside."
"Hey!"
"Only don't be fooled, Billy's ancient really. He's got the portrait of Billian Gray locked away somewhere, it's eleventy-one by now, at least! Watch yourself, Lijah, he'll shake his cane at you."
"I'll show you a caning," Billy makes as if to come after him, miming rolling up the sleeves of Pippin's coat.
"You'll show me what?!" Dom pitches his scandalized voice to carry, ducking as Billy feints at him. "Help! Scottish molestation!"
"You wish," says Sean.
That knocks Dom back a step. Not that he thought he was hiding anything-- he's never put much stock in subtlety-- but he didn't expect to have it thrown in his face like that either.
Billy ignores it, taking the chance to collar Dom, though gently, mindful of his costume. "That's it, Monaghan. It's the cloak for you."
"Not the cloak! Please, Bill! Please! Anything but the cloak!"
They can all laugh a bit over that, as Dom's allergy to his costume's wool cloak is a bit of a running joke with everyone by now, from Pete on down.
"Sorry, mate. Time for a cloaking." Billy pretends to drag Dom by his ear back to the set.
*
It's a long day with loads of climbing, hiking, making camp and striking camp and hiking some more. "Could be worse," Orlando says as they tramp along the same stretch of woods for the twentieth time. "Liv's stuck riding her mechanical horse again today."
Billy covers Dom's mouth. "Leave it. Too easy."
By the evening, the entire cast and crew is getting a bit knackered and short-tempered. Dom decides to keep well out of range of everyone's swords and sticks.
"I was hoping to wait out the day, but it's no use. I'll have to visit the port-a-loos," Billy says.
Dom hugs him. "I'll pray for you."
Elijah falls into step with Dom on the way back to the makeup trailer. "Man, I'm so lost. What're we on now, chapter ninety million?"
"We've just now got to page one, didn't anyone tell you the first bit's just prologue?"
"I thought The Hobbit was the prologue."
"That's the pre-prologue. You think it's tough now, wait'll we get to the bit where Legolas dies."
"Legolas doesn't die!"
"Well, everyone's so fond of Orli, no one wanted to put it into the script, but in the books..."
"You lying motherfucker."
"You'll see when you've read to the end. Legolas dies, Aragorn dies, Sam dies, it's a massacre."
"You're so full of shit," Elijah says, poking him. "Hey. Sean's sorry about what he said earlier."
"Mmm," Dom rumbles noncommitally.
"About you and Billy," Elijah presses on. "He didn't mean to piss you guys off. It's like how you and Bill are always saying you've got your British style of humor that we don't get. It's kind of like that with me and Sean and LA type humor."
"What then, that's LA humor? Tossing out a sort of randomly catty remark whenever the opportunity presents itself?"
"Umm, yeah, that basically sums it up. But you know, he didn't mean anything."
"It's all right, I'm not bothered."
"I think he was just kind of in a bad mood because you were pushing food at him."
"You what?"
"The chocolate egg things."
"I wasn't pushing it on him. I was trying to be friendly!"
"I know, I know. He's just kind of oversensitive, you know? Peter and Fran are always kind of pressuring him to put on weight, it's getting to him." Elijah stops as they near the trailer. "Not like it's an excuse, but just so you know."
"All right," Dom shrugs, stopping as well. He keeps waiting for Elijah to move on, but Lijah idles, hands in the pockets of Frodo's velvet jacket.
"Um. Okay, don't take this the wrong way. But I can't always tell when you're joking, so. Are you guys...?"
"No, no. It's all in good fun, me and Billy." Oh well, as long as the salt's rubbing well into the wound, might as well laugh. "He's not one for the lads, Billy. Turned me down flat. But then, they all have, the whole Fellowship. I've gone round to all their trailers hitting everyone up for a shag, can't get so much as the time of day."
"You haven't come to my trailer."
"I'm going south-to-northeasterly and anti-clockwise. Don't worry, I'll work my way round to yours. I'm quite looking forward to it. No one's slammed a door in my face outright yet, maybe you can be the lucky first."
Elijah has a funny sort of smile, as if it's all getting a bit much. Of course growing up looking like Elijah in Hollywood must've made for a sort of minefield of indecent proposals. Possibly Dom should gear down a bit on the innuendo. Elijah's all tolerance though, finally saying, "Come on, like I'd do that."
"You'd probably be a bit more tactful about it." Dom tries on his attempt at Elijah's accent: "'Dude! Not even!'"
Billy comes round the makeup trailer from the back and spots them, eyebrows shooting up as he walks over. "Still out here? Is there a queue to the makeup chair?"
"You survived!" Dom says, thumping his back. "Good man!"
"We were waiting for you," Elijah starts toward the trailer.
"That's kind of you," says Billy, "which means it can't be true."
"We've been talking. Lijah wanted to know if I'm your giiiirlfriend."
Billy says, "Silly Yank. He's not my girlfriend, he's my bitch. And so're you. Everyone is. I am going to be Thain, after all."
"That might make the hobbits your bitches," says Elijah, "but not the elves or the men. And definitely not Aragorn! He's the King!"
"Doesn't matter, he's still Pippin's bitch," says Billy. "Just you ask Viggo."
*
Dominic goes out to dinner with Billy and two of the WETA techs, Rob and Frank. When he gets home at last, Cricket's in a neat little black coil on his sofa.
"Hiya, Cricket," Dom says. The kitten demonstrates his enthusiasm by staying exactly where he is and licking his paw with a tongue that's shocking pink against his dark fur. He doesn't budge til Dom puts food out and calls him, and even then it's more of a saunter.
"I thought cats were affectionate, always jumping into laps and that." Dom bends to scratch the top of Cricket's head gently. "It's already late, I'll be asleep soon. You won't have me about to ignore for long!"
The kitten gives a little chirrup at that, though it probably has more to do with the milk dish being empty.
"Tell you a secret," Dom pours the milk out. "I don't think Sean likes me much." Cricket tips his head up a bit, twitching milk droplets off his whiskers. "No, not that Sean, the other one, Astin."
Cricket forsakes the food dish to rub his fuzzy cheek against Dom's ankle. Dominic knows the gesture isn't really affectionate, cats just do it to mark things with their scent, but it feels friendly and comforting all the same.
"Tell you another secret. I don't think I like him all that terribly much either."
Apparently Dom's ankle is well marked, because Cricket stops rubbing and returns to his milk with a pronounced flick of his tail.
"What, you as well?" Dom laughs. "Tch, it'll be all right. We don't have to be all that keen on each other to be friendly. Me and Sean, that is. If you don't like me, that's another story. Don't see why I should keep milk in for an ungrateful kitten."
Dom kneels and strokes Cricket's soft ears. "Though I suppose it wouldn't really stop me feeding you. It's not as if any of my reptiles have ever been very sociable. And I've had insects for pets who were really quite hostile. That might've been cos they mistook me for something that meant to eat them." Cricket's back bends up, pushing against Dom's hands; Dom scoops him up. "I can promise not to eat you, if you like. Hmm? I swear faithfully that I will never roast or stew you, barbeque or fillet you, I promise never to make kitten pasties or kitten pie..."
He holds Cricket high on his chest, and Cricket arches up and rubs the top of his head under Dom's chin.
"I'll make you a little tag up, on one side it'll say 'Cricket' and on the other it'll say 'I'm not food', would you like that?"
Cricket purrs; Dom takes that as a yes.
***