Now Feeling: sappy
Now Playing: Jazz FM
Have slashed ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) _peapod/Billy/Elijah for the Mary-Sue challenge. Alas is all a bit wishy washy.
"Hot chick off the port bow!" she heard from the water nearby in a Scottish accent.
"Where?" in an American accent.
She looked around to see who they were talking about.
"Slow down! We're going to crash!"
Wait a minute, that voice sounded really familiar.
"I can't slow down, there's no breaks. Push us off with the oar."
Portia turned around in time to see a pair of wide blue eyes widen even further before their owner shouted "Fuck!", over-balanced and fell off the punt into the river.
Standing at the rear of the boat, steadying himself with the pole, Billy Boyd was almost doubled over with laughter.
Elijah stood back up in the thigh deep water and immediately tried to knock Billy off-balance by grabbing the side of the punt and shaking it. Billy jumped down into the main body of the boat and rapped Elijah's fingers with the top of the pole.
"Get yourself back in the boat you edjit."
"You did that on purpose," Elijah scowled, trying to haul himself back over the side. "You could at least give me a hand."
"And let you pull me in? I think not. You got yourself in there, you can get yourself back out, and next time don't drink so much beer before you get in a boat."
"Fuck you very much."
Through this entire exchange Portia had done nothing but stare at them. Elijah, dripping wet, with his thin white t-shirt and jeans moulded to his body. Billy in jeans and a blue shirt unbuttoned half way down his chest, the sleeves rolled up. She followed the black thong of his greenstone pendant up to his neck and kept on going till she met his pale green eyes, they glinted gold in the sunshine, he was looking at her.
"Come punting with us?" he offered.
Portia stared, cigarette holder dangling loosely in her fingers, the cigarette dying out in the grass.
"I'm Billy," he continued.
Elijah had made it back into the boat and was busy stripping off his t-shirt and wringing it out over the side.
Portia stared. Elijah took off his shoes and socks.
"My cloves were in my back pocket," he complained. "They'll be fucked."
"He swears like a sailor but I promise he's house trained," Billy added. "Come with us, we need a navigator who knows the territory. You're from round here, right?"
Portia nodded faintly. Elijah shivered, his nipples seemed to be pointing at her.
"Give me your shirt, Billy," Elijah whined. "I'm c-c-c-cold."
"Hold on you big jessie."
Billy stepped carefully over Elijah and held out his free hand to Portia. "You coming then? Voyage of a lifetime, last call before we cast off."
Still mute, Portia gathered her shaky legs under her, stuck her book and cigarette holder in her bag, and took his hand.
As soon as she was on board Billy handed her the pole. "Hang on to this for me a second while I sort out the boy. Then we'll push off again."
Elijah wrung his socks out over the side and glanced at her out the corner of his eye as Billy took off his shirt.
"Here," he said offering it to Elijah. "If you plan to go swimming again take it off first."
"Ha ha," said Elijah, but he didn't sound as annoyed as before. He put it on and wrapped it around himself without buttoning it. "Try to punt in a straight line then you cunt."
"Very poetic," said Billy taking the pole back from Portia. "Ta." His fingers brushed hers and she stared at the play of the muscles in his forearms and up across his shoulders. "There's a very rude limerick in there waiting to get out." He said as he pushed off the bank.
"Dom would have written one already," Elijah grinned.
To her horror, Portia suddenly found herself reciting,
"There once was a man with a cunt,
Who went for a ride in a punt.
As he slid himself down
He declared with a frown
It's a good thing this pole is quite blunt."
She clapped her hands over her mouth. Why had she said that? It was without a doubt the crappest punting limerick she had ever been told. She couldn't believe she even remembered it.
Despite the appallingness of it Elijah repeated it over and then burst into fits of giggles.
Billy grinned. "That sounds about our Dominic's level."
Portia just held her mouth shut in case anything else came out of it and watched Billy's careful manoevering as he tried to get the punt pointed in the right direction again.
As a result, somewhat mesmerised by Billy's stomach as she was, Portia nearly jumped out of her skin when Elijah appeared at her shoulder.
"Hi, I'm Elijah, what did you say your name was again?"
"She didn't," said Billy helpfully.
Portia uncovered her mouth, her cheeks were almost as pink as her lipstick. "Portia," she replied carefully, in case her mouth accidentally said cunt again.
"Cool," said Elijah. "Like Merchant of Venice."
She nodded.
"Cool," he said again and took his oar back to the front to perch on the prow.
Portia sat back in the damp seat and stared at his bare toes sticking out of the cuffs of his dripping jeans.
"Onward!" he cried. "Full speed to the Falls, there are Orcs on our tail!"
"Geek," Billy muttered fondly.
"Orcs, Billy, Orcs!" Elijah repeated, digging his little wooden oar into the water ineffectively.
"Urukhai and Cave Trolls and Orcs, oh my!" Billy chanted. "How will we ever make it safely to Rivendell with the Elf Princess Portia?"
Portia raised an eyebrow, not feeling especially like a Princess sprawled in the bottom of a punt with a wet spot gradually forming on her ass from all the water that had been splashed into the boat.
Elijah cackled madly with the excitement of a five year old. "Faster, faster."
"You want faster you get up here and punt," Billy grumbled.
"What kind of talk is that for a Ranger, Billy," Elijah admonished him.
"I'm not a Ranger, I'm a hobbit."
"No, you're a Ranger and Princess Portia is your one true love," Elijah said firmly.
"I think you watched too many Disney Movies as a child."
"Or you didn't watch enough!"
Portia chanced a glance back at Billy and as their eyes met he winked at her.
She held his gaze a moment and found she felt a bit like a Princess after all. |
