Disclaimer: none of the real ones is ours, just the made up characters.
Rating: NC 17
Chapter Two
Nina watched him carefully. He was leaning his head up against the cool window, obviously playing it cool. But he winced hard at each bump. And there were a lot of them. He'd given the cab driver an address that Nina didn't recognize, but she was pretty sure they were heading east, into the city.
"Hey, you," she said softly. It took him a moment to adjust his focus, but then he smiled. He had a nice smile, sort of little boy adorable.
"You probably have a concussion, you know. Do you have somebody at home to make sure you don't go comatose?" Her face was taut with concern.
Billy considered her question. Would Nick even notice if he slipped into a coma himself? Probably not right now. And who knew where Ian was? Frowning, Billy replied in the negative.
He watched the girl bite the corner of her lip thoughtfully, as if she was considering something important. He waited.
"Well, then. Looks like I'll have to take care of you," she decided at last. Leaning forward, she touched the taxi driver on the shoulder and gave him a new address. Billy heard it and vaguely thought that at least her flat was closer than Ian's.
"My name's Nina, by the way," the bartender said, sitting back in her seat.
"Billy Boyd, ma'am, at your service," Billy said, noting that his words were a little slurred. There was absolutely no reason why he should trust this woman, but he still felt safe, knowing that she was taking care of him.
*******************
"Good evening, Maurice," said Ian to the guard at the entrance of the theatre. "Sir Ian, you are back? I thought you had called it a night, sir," said Maurice.
"Well, I thought so myself, my friend. But I need to work on something. Do you mind if I enter and stay on stage for a while?" asked Ian.
Maurice thought a bit over Ian's request. It was forbidden for cast and crew of the plays to stay overtime in the theater, unless they had special authorization from the management. But he was a diehard fan of Ian's work, and he knew that he could make this exception.
Ian walked into the theater and headed towards the stage. He knew the place like the back of his hand. Having performed so many plays on those planks, he felt curiously at home. He sat cross-legged down stage center, and closed his eyes. The deep smells of pancake make-up and singed light gels invaded his soul.
Theatre was in his blood. He recalled his introduction to The Bard, when he was eleven and his sister took him to see Twelfth Night. That was when he knew for sure that it was the boards or nothing for him. He'd always made the rest of his life fit around this one overwhelming passion. Even his activism was merely an extension of Ian-the-actor.
But his relationship with Nick was something else. It was pure, blinding, wafting into his soul, not on the thick smell of greasepaint and footlights, but instead on the soft Pacific breeze. Nick was as out of place on a stage as Ian was in a disco. But, and this was the peculiar thing, if he had to choose the stage or the beach with Nick, Ian …
Ah, well, that was the whole dilemma, wasn't it?
He stared into the empty pit for a long time.
****************
Nick was awake when Billy eased the door open. Billy could smell coffee brewing; Ian was a tea-in-the-morning man. Billy tossed a smile over his shoulder.
"Well, you'll get tae meet one of me mates, at least," he said. Nina had insisted on making sure he got home safely this morning. Billy felt a little foolish at letting her take care of him, but he also kind of liked it. She wasn't suffocating at all; she was… nice. And pretty in the morning, with her hair all scraggly and her pajamas rumpled.
"The famous actor or the surfer?" she asked, glancing over his shoulder. She was nearly as tall as he was, so it was easy for her to peek. Billy just gave her an enigmatic grin and pushed the door open. He bent and picked up the morning post on his way into the flat.
"Top of the morning tae ye," he called to Nick as he led Nina into the morning room.
Nick looked like shit, but to his credit, he ran a nervous hand through his wild hair when he noticed the visitor. At least he was wearing trousers, though he was shirtless, as usual.
"Ginny, meet Nick. Nick, Ginny, the woman who saved me worthless hide from a pack of brawny muggers last night," Billy announced proudly, plopping the post on the breakfast table with a satisfying thump. He loved the startled expression on Nick's face, and the giggles Nina was obviously holding back.
Nina poked Billy in the ribs. "William, I told you that I do not like to be called that. Nick, nice to meet you. I am Nina," she said sticking her hand out to the young man. Nick shook it in bemused silence.
"And I told yae I loathe being called William, Ginny-lass" said Billy. "And that hurt."
Nina looked genuinely worried about Billy, until she caught his grin. She said, "Yeah sure, the bottle hit your head, not your ribs, and I think the blow might just have improved your thinking, insufferable Scot!"
Nick surfaced from his depression long enough to observe the bantering between the two in front of him, and he hid a secret smile. Those two had something going, he would bet his head on that.
The thumping in his head brought him back to reality. Nick was having the worst hangover he could remember having. And the nightmares he had woken up to hadn't helped at all. After last night's quarrel with Ian, Nick wanted to make some decision, but he was scared. He had left all he had behind in NZ and come to London only for Ian. And now he felt lost.
Nina and Billy were still bantering, but the uncomfortable silence behind them reminded them that there was someone else in the room. Billy saw the look in Nick's eyes and his heart hurt for his friend.
Billy took Nina's hand and said to her, "Ginny-love, would ye care tae go sightseeing London with Nick and me? I bet your brother hasn'a shown ye much of the city yet...." and he squeezed her hand, praying she understood the need to get Nick out of the house.
Nina grinned. This was more like it: she'd come here to be a tourist, and damn if she wasn't going to do it, even without Dante. Hell, she'd do it in spite of Dante.
"Would I?" She dug in her handbag for a moment, and then pulled out a mini-guidebook with a flourish. It had little post-its sticking out, marking pages. "William, I would adore a bit of sightseeing."
"Spot of sightseeing," murmured Nick, flipping through the morning post, on the off chance his friends or family had sent him something from home. Not that it would've gotten here already, but there was always the hope…
"What?" Nina asked. Nick looked up.
"The English would say it's a spot of sightseeing. You know, like a spot of tea, or some such. Hey, Billy, did you get one of these?" Nick asked suddenly, holding up a gawdawful pink-and-cream embossed envelope with flowery italic type. Billy groaned.
"Not yet; haven'a gotten the post sent over from home yet. Is that what I think it is?"
Nick re-read the return address.
"I think so. Wedding invitation. Another one bites the dust, so to speak," he said, musingly. He didn't seem nearly as appalled by the idea as Billy felt. Indeed, he seemed stunningly interested in the notion. Billy found that vaguely interesting.
"Bloody hell," Billy said. "Seems like the whole fellowship is getting hitched.
"Uh, guys? I'm still here," interjected Nina, still brandishing the tour guide. "Are we going for a spot of sightseeing or what?"
Nick had the grace to blush. "Just let me grab a shirt!"
********************
Nina scribbled notes on her post-its as she visited each spot. Billy found her pace brutal, but that wide grin of hers was addictive. She seemed enamoured of each site, like a wee child at Christmas.
She'd successfully tickled a guardsman at St. James Palace, frolicked in the fountain in Trafalgar Square, and sunbathed fully clothed in Hyde Park. Glowing, she agreed to stop for a bite to eat and a cup of tea on Piccadilly. Billy was more exhausted than he'd like to admit, so he was thankful for the break.
"I want bangers and mash!" Nina announced to a surprised waiter. Her American accent was bleating, and Billy couldn't help himself: he dissolved into a guffaw of laughter.
"And a pot of tea for the table," Nick added mildly. The waiter still looked gob smacked, but Nina didn't seem to mind. Nick joined in her mirth, for a moment forgetting his own dismals. This sightseeing trip had been lovely; it'd missed only one thing. Unfortunately, the most important thing: Ian. Nick felt the gloominess returning; he picked at the edge of his napkin absently.
Billy recovered from his laughter and answered some of Nina's touristy questions. Although he was - thankfully! - not a London native, Billy had been here plenty of times and knew the city well. He was learning it all over again, though, through Nina's wide eyes. It was unexpectedly beautiful.
Billy was watching her thumb through that guidebook for the umpteenth time when he felt his cell phone vibrate against his hip. He turned a little away from the table and flipped the phone open.
"This is Billy," he said.
"Is Nick with you?" It was Ian.
"Aye. We're seeing the sights, with Ginny."
"Ginny?" Ian's voice was quizzical, and Billy remembered all too suddenly that Ian didn't know Ginny. Billy had only met her yesterday. Why did it seem like he'd known her for ages?
"A friend of mine. Anyway, did ye need to talk to Nick?" Billy asked.
"Err… sightseeing, eh?" Ian said slowly, instead of replying. "Would you mind very much if I joined you? Where are you visiting next?"
Billy nearly fell out of his chair. Was Ian seriously considering leaving work to play tourist? Billy knew Ian was a workaholic, a perfectionist even. This sort of thing was unprecedented.
"The Tower of London," Billy replied.
"I shall see you there in, oh, an hour, then?" Ian asked. Billy nodded, until he realized he was on the phone.
"Aye. At the tower. 'Bye," Billy said into the phone, hearing Ian's farewell with stunned ears.
*****************
From across the table, Nina watch the play of emotions on Nick's face. The kid was obviously trying to disguise his unhappiness, but he wasn't very good at it. And he seemed sweet; Nina wanted very much to help him. Which was one of her reasons for the power-touring this afternoon. The other reason, and she finally admitted it to herself, was to spend more time with Billy.
Last night, when Billy and she had arrived at Dante's flat, she had checked the cuts in his scalp and tended them. Okay, she had broken her golden rule about strangers, but this man had saved her life. She was still impressed about the way he had handled the thugs, and all for a woman unknown to him.
Nina had kept strangers strictly at bay, outside of her life and her emotional sphere, for so long, that she could not remember the last time she'd had friends at her place. And this wasn't even her place.
Billy had been very correct and polite, offering again to go home to his friends, but she had insisted on him staying, feeling responsible for him getting hurt. And besides, Billy was the kind of person you just had to like. He had taken over the couch, and she had made him as comfortable as possible. Nina had been touchingly devoted to his well-being, and she had stayed with him, keeping him awake until she was absolutely sure that there was no more risk of a coma due to the concussion.
Billy was probably the first man she had spent longer than two hours with under the same roof in the last years, with exception of her brother and father. She just hadn't any time for romance and stuff. And then, Billy didn't fall into that area, not at all. Right?
*****************
Billy sipped at his tea, his eyes wandering from melancholic Nick to lively Nina who was telling him all the funny facts she could find in the guidebook. And Nick rewarded her effort with a huge smile. Nina? Nay, Ginny was better suited for her, definitely. Though she hated it, or so she had told him.
She had confessed her whole name to him as she was struggling to stay awake and keep him company, to take care of him. Giannina Montesco. Ginny, then.
He was still intrigued about the woman. She had told him about having taken over the Swan only until her brother returned. Ginny was feisty and independent but kind as well. He was touched by her way of taking care of him. And she hadn't recognized him from any movie. Ginny had insisted that she had not set foot in a cinema for ages and didn't care much about it, for she had no time.
Ginny hadn't told him much else about her life in New York, or her family besides Dante. She had insisted in Billy telling her about Scotland and Glasgow and the Scots. She had even teased him about knowing of only two famous Scots: Rod Stewart and Sean Connery. That had shocked Billy into stunned silence for a couple of minutes.
Now, after seeing her enjoy the outing and put all her effort into cheering up Nick, whom she had just met this very morning, Billy felt his heart warm for Ginny.
He would enjoy very much showing her his homeland, the hills, the mountains, the sea, the cities, Glasgow… all just to see her dark eyes sparkle with glee as they were now.
But she would go back to the States in a couple of weeks, and they were just friends. Bantering and poking and tickling kind of friends. Suddenly he didn't want time to pass; he wanted to enjoy the moment while she was there.
*****************
Nick was distracted, listening to Nina's voice relating the legends about the wives of King Henry the VIII who had all been in the Tower, when they reached the ancient building. He wasn't interested in anything she was telling, but he appreciated her effort. Suddenly he sat up in the backseat of the taxi, his gaze fixed on the figure standing by the entrance of the monument.
He could not stop his heart from beating faster at the sight of Ian, waiting for them with his warm smile that seemed directed at all of them, but that was only for him, Nick thought. 'I am a fool, I love him so much I keep imagining him still caring about me,' he said to himself, lowering his eyes to the ground, not able to bear Ian knowing how absolutely and hopelessly in love he was. The young man hurt so much; he just wanted to hold on to the last straw of pride he had left. Nick had decided to leave and go back to New Zealand as soon as possible.
Ian saw the young people arrive in the cab and his eyes searched instantly for Nick. He saw all of Nick's emotions in the younger man's face and felt his heart clench. Had he caused the sorrow he saw in his lover's eyes? The Nick walking slowly towards him seemed the shadow of the lively, kind, gorgeous man he had met in New Zealand, the one that filled his thoughts and made him feel alive and at peace with the whole world. How could he have been so blind?
Billy was observing the exchange of glances between his friends, and reflexively he held out his hand to catch Nina's to keep her back and let the lovers meet first. But even before Billy's hand caught her wrist, Nina had recognized the situation; though she didn't know Ian, Nick was readable as a book, and she felt bad for him. She slowed down, staying at Billy's side. Billy took her hand in his. She looked questioningly in the Scot's face, but he only smiled at his widest and raised an eyebrow, as if daring her. She didn't smile back, but raised a black eyebrow back at him and lifted her chin in defiance. Their hands stayed locked.
"Nicholas, I see you finally found someone to show you the sights. The best company, I dare say," said Ian as Nick was in hearing range.
Nick shrugged. "They took me along, Ian. Billy and Nina are good mates."
Ian frowned. Nick sounded sad, almost meek. Things were worse then he had thought. He had to find the opportunity to speak to Nick in private. So he turned to Billy.
"Come over, Billy, and introduce the beautiful young woman you are dragging behind you," he said, chuckling as he saw the woman pull her hand away from Billy's and approach him with wide, sure strides.
"I am Nina Montesco, pleased to meet you, Mister McKellen," she said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a firm squeeze.
"The lass' name is Ginny, Ian, don'a let her tell ye anything else," said Billy from behind.
Nina turned to him."Back off, William!"
"William?" asked Ian.
"I suppose kilt-boy here wasn't christened Billy, right?" answered Nina looking towards Billy.
"I must confess I must have been christened William, and I recall that I might have seen that name in me passport, although I am not sure…" said Billy to Nina.
She ignored him and turned back to Ian. "Is he always like that?"
"Worse, my dear, worse!" said Ian laughing out loud. "You look familiar …have we met before?"
"I don't think so. But William told me that you are often at The White Swan. I happen to be working there since yesterday," she said, and her eyes wandered to Nick, who was standing a bit apart from them, looking over the Thames, lost in thoughts, his face devoid of emotion.
Billy threaded his arm through Nina's and said, "Excuse us, Ian, but I'd love tae show Ginny here how Brits deal with rebellious outspoken lasses. May I show ye the scaffold, m'dear?"
"I am sure we can finish this conversation some other time, Mr. McKellen. I have to deal with kilt-boy first. Excuse me please?" Nina said and nodding towards Billy they walked away, giving Ian and Nick space to talk.
*****************
Nick and Ian strolled on the soft grass that once upon a time had been a moat. If he concentrated hard enough, Nick could almost hear and smell the history in this place. But it took a lot of concentration: a small group of eight-to-ten-year olds was visiting today, and their spine-chilling squeals of delight detracted a bit from the sense of history.
Ian wasn't talking; Nick bit his tongue and decided not to break the silence.
"Nice girl, that Ginny," Ian said at last.
"Yeah. You know Billy got into a scuffle with some muggers last night. Nina apparently took care of him afterwards." What Nick did not mention out loud was that Ian would've known all this if he'd come home last night. The accusation hung heavy in the air.
"Did she, now? Billy would do well to hold onto such a gem," Ian mused, flicking a quick smile. When Nick didn't respond, Ian sighed and clasped his hands behind his back.
"They've only just met, but he's certainly spending a lot of time with her," Nick agreed. Well, that accusation was a little less veiled. He peeked at Ian from below his lashes. Ian paused, seemed more thoughtful than usual. They were just in front of the Lion Tower. Ginny's guidebook had explained that this is where the royal menagerie was once housed. Nick thought that the group of school kids sounded rather like a hungry, pissed off herd of wild animals.
Nick wandered toward the Lion Tower; after a moment, Ian followed. He was grinning mysteriously.
"Something funny?" Nick mumbled. Ian's response shocked him.
"I was just thinking that we're funny, Nicholas. You and me, sidestepping the real issues because we're frightened to talk about them. Doesn't that strike you as absurd? I mean, here I have brought you halfway across the world, to my hometown, and a Scot and an American are the first to show you Piccadilly Circus. Nicky, I'm sorry. I've been horrible, but I mean to make it up to you."
Had the sun been shining all day? Nick thought it seemed a little brighter. He'd turned when Ian had started talking, and now he couldn't turn away. He wondered what all those blasted school kids would do if he reached up and kissed the hell out of Ian right here. Better not tempt fate, though. Instead, he grinned.
"Not horrible," Nick said. "Just working a lot. And I understand, I do. You're busy, and very important, and…"
Ian held up a hand, and Nick stopped talking.
"Do you know what I did last night after leaving the Swan?" Ian asked. Nick's belly lurched. No, he didn't know. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to.
"I went to the theatre," Ian said slowly. Nick couldn't keep the sudden panic from flooding his face. Of course he'd suspected it, but to have Ian confirm it like this… bloody hell. And Sean had probably been there, and oh God.
"I sat on the stage," Ian continued, as if he could not see the emotions flitting across Nick's face, "and thought of how comfortable I am there. But then I realized something else: I'm also comfortable in a pub in Auckland, or a disco in Los Angeles, or in Times Square in the middle of the night. I'm comfortable where you are, Nick. Which makes you at least as important to me as those bloody boards."
Nick searched his lover's face for signs of a lie. But there were none. Nick had told himself this morning that he was going back to New Zealand as soon as he could purchase the ticket. But now he knew that he wouldn't. He couldn't.
He wanted to tell Ian that he would always be here, that he wanted to bring comfort and contentment and fun and excitement to his partner's life. He wanted to profess his patience, and remind Ian that he understood the pressures of being Sir Ian, the public figure. He wanted to say a a whole lot of things.
"I love you, you know," he said simply. And it said everything. Chatting, they wandered into the Lion Tower and sat at the tourist café there, waiting for Billy and Nina.
*****************
They were looking out from one of the highest chambers in the tower. The view over London was overwhelming.
Nina stood by the window, oblivious for a moment to Billy's presence.
"When I was a little girl I dreamt of castles and knights in shining armor," she said softly as if talking to herself.
"What are yer dreams now, love?" asked Billy softly as well, very close to her ear. He was standing inches away from her, at her back.
"I don't dream anymore, William. I am a grown woman. I know better than that," she said and turned to leave, bumping into him.
Nina felt those beautiful, laughing green eyes take hold of hers and as his hands settled on her cheeks and he pulled her into a soft kiss, she did not move away.
Billy could not refrain from kissing her any more than he could stop breathing at that moment. He needed to taste her, to know the flavor of her lips.
Nina reacted, as his kiss grew deeper, pushing him away. Both looked at each other in confusion, waiting for the other to say something.
"No. Not me. I am not that kind of woman. Goodbye William," Nina said and turned away to leave.
"Ginny … Nina, com' on, it was just a wee kiss, don't go! I am sorry, well not for the kiss but... please, stay!" said Billy as he ran after her. She ran faster and walked around a huge group of tourists. Billy ran straight into them. As he managed to get through the group, Nina had disappeared from his sight.
*****************
It was late afternoon by the time they returned to Ian's place, which was only a short tube ride from the tourist venues. After a day full of playing tourist and exchanging meaningful glances with Ian, Nick was feeling very pleased with the world. They still had a lot to talk about, of course, but as if by unspoken agreement, Ian and Nick had both made today pleasant.
Unfortunately, Billy was anything but pleased. Indeed, he seemed downright glum.
And Nina was nowhere to be found; Billy explained that she'd needed to get back to the Swan before opening, but his excuse didn't have the ring of truth.
Ian wandered back into the large kitchen; his housekeeper had left a pot of tea on the stove, for which Ian blessed her at least six times. It took just a few moments to heat up.
Billy followed him into the kitchen, pausing at the breakfast table.
"I'm thinking about leaving tomorrow," Billy said, absently spreading the pile of post on the table.
Ian heard the thin whine of the teakettle, and he lifted it from the stovetop. He looked up from pouring it into the porcelain teapot and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I thought you were staying for another month," he said.
Billy looked at Ian and the grey eyes of his friend seemed to see into his soul.
"I could go back and look for a new play until I have to be on set again," Billy said.
"Does your sudden change of mind have something to do with this afternoon's lovely tourist?"
Billy didn't say a word for a long while; he helped Ian serve the tea.
"I just met her yesterday, Ian. There is nothing between us," he said finally.
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself, William?" asked Ian.
"Bloody hell, Ian, don'a call me that!" retorted Billy exasperated.
"You should go to the Swan tonight, I think," said Nick's voice from the doorway.
"I'd have to agree with Nicholas on that, my friend," added Ian.
Billy's mouth turned down at the corners, and he frowned, puckering the skin between his brows. He'd been fingering the wedding invitation on the table, not really reading it. Now, in an attempt to divert the conversation, he forced himself to focus.
"Ye see this, Ian?" Billy asked, picking up the pink and gold embossed monstrosity. Ian scanned the names and chuckled.
"Well, when it rains, it pours, as they say," he murmured. "I got a call from Elijah just this morning. Rather unexpected, of course, but he sounded wildly happy. I've already booked tickets to… ah, Oklahoma, I think."
Ian met Nick's questioning glance across the room.
"Would you fancy going to Oklahoma with me, Nicholas?" Ian asked, pleased by Nick's instant grin.
Billy rolled his eyes heavenward. "I might as well go too, toss rice at him and all," Billy said, with an obvious shudder.
Ian and Nick both laughed. Handing cups of tea all around, Ian wandered out to the terrace to enjoy a rare rain-less evening. Nick followed him.
And Billy stood at the table, thoughts racing. Oklahoma, huh? Wasn't that in the general vicinity of New York?
His United States geography was limited. But Nina was from New York… he was pondering a fairly ballsy plan, which started with him going to the Swan tonight.
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