inclineoftrees | Book One, Chapter 9: Dominic's Birthday

Title: Dominic's Birthday (1 of 2)
Authors:

kiltsandlollies
Characters: Dominic and Billy
Rating: PG
Word count: 4140
Summary: A bad day gets better.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.

After having spent most of the morning and a good part of the afternoon on his back, considering the ceiling of his residence hall room, Dominic calls his relocation to the fish and chip shop progress. It's his twenty-first birthday, and he hadn't counted on spending it alone, but a fight with his father last night had changed that. So instead of the lovely meal he'd been promised of a roast and his mum's toffee pudding, he has the smallest meal on the menu, a thin piece of cod almost gone cold.

He'd only called home to tell his mother what train he'd be on: the early one, as his last class had been cancelled. His mother had been at work, though, and his father had answered, had assumed Dominic was skipping class, and had then brought up a class Dominic had nearly failed in his first term at university. The ensuing fight had left Dominic contemplating the structural integrity of Langton Hall, because it was less painful than all the other things he might contemplate instead. The whole debacle might not have been such an issue if he hadn't already turned down an offer from Greg and his mates to go to Leeds to see Travis in concert.

Dominic hates being alone, particularly on special occasions. He supposes he'll go back to his room, ring up his brother with the last of his phone card, and then wait for his mother to call. She'll cry or ask him to apologize, or both. He wishes he could think of something else to do that would let him avoid that scenario, but his empty wallet won't allow for anything more. He slumps in his chair, unable to make himself go back to his room just yet. He can't even be bothered to look up when the door opens, ushering in another burst of cold air and a more disheveled than usual professor.

Billy's just coming off a particularly nasty cold, one that's caused him to cancel two class days in the previous week and left him weakened and bitter at home. It's only when he's ill that Billy really allows himself to wallow and hide, dragging his duvet like a child from his bedroom in the middle of the night and collapsing to the couch. The past few mornings have seen the results of those choices, with Billy sneezing violently and cursing at the dead embers in his fireplace. Books are scattered all over his front room, abandoned in boredom or irritation, and there are half–finished mugs of tea and coffee everywhere, though Billy can't actually pin the blame for that on illness alone. After a half-encouraging, half-teasing call from Miranda earlier in the day, during which Billy'd heard excellent gossip and better, news that Miranda might have at last found a student to model for her classes, Billy had felt determined to leave the house and rejoin the living, and so he's forced a smile from underneath his reddened nose and thrown on his heaviest coat, even though the weather is nothing close to miserable.

Certainly not as miserable, anyway, as appears Dominic, leaning over his table in the chip shop. It's purely coincidence that Billy is in here after craving something hearty after days of tea and soup. Billy knows Dominic's not yet seen him in the shop, and he silences a sneeze so as not to alert Dominic to his presence. Ordering another coffee to go with the one in his hands, Billy also points to the menu and murmurs an order for two shepherd’s pies and warm chocolate tortes. While the food is being prepared, Billy wonders what Dominic is doing still near campus after he’d told Billy he was going home for the weekend. Thinking that whatever the reason, it can't be good, Billy's smile turns to a slight frown. It disappears, however, as he pays for the food and steers himself across the noisy cafe area to where Dominic sits.

"Mr. Monaghan," he says kindly. "Help me take some of this food off my hands, hmm?"

Dominic nearly upsets his chair and table in his rush to take the overloaded tray from Billy. Billy's appearance is a happy surprise, and Dominic makes an effort to shake off his gloom as he makes room at the table. "You didn't have to do this," he protests in a concession to his upbringing, but only gives his meal a cursory glance. It's easily forgotten in favor of hot coffee and shepherd's pie.

"I missed you in class. The secretary said you were sick." Dominic takes another sip of coffee then picks up a fork. That his comment might seem inappropriate strikes him one minute too late. It might be a natural thing that a student checks up on a professor when he's cancelled class. It could be that students do it all the time, and he just never realized it before now, but even as he thinks it, he knows he only fooling himself. "Are you feeling better?"

Billy peers carefully at Dominic before he answers. True, Billy's liked well enough by his students, but none has ever stopped to inquire after his health, especially to one of the department secretaries, who barely see Billy as it is. But then Dominic's always been a little different from most of Billy's students.

"I am, thank you," Billy says. "Just a cold, really, nothing to complain about. Though I'm sure you and your classmates were glad to have the break. Another few days to complete your essays." Billy smiles and takes a drink from his coffee, watching over the lip of his cup as Dominic tucks into the steaming meal in front of him. "Take your time, Dom," he murmurs. "That food's not going anywhere."

Billy's words make Dominic realize he's eating like a condemned man, so he sets his fork down and brushes his lips with his napkin. That it's his first full meal in several days, his only full meal this weekend unless he sells some more of his CDs, isn't something he wants Billy to know.

Billy recognizes immediately that he's made Dominic uncomfortable, and he shakes his head. "I apologize. I understand if you're in a rush, Dom. But I was under the impression—" Another personal question, rushing from his lips before Billy can stop it. "You mentioned that you were going home for the weekend. D'you not leave until tonight, then?"

"I was going home for my birthday, but I had a row with my dad. I just decided to stay here instead." Dominic shrugs as if it doesn't matter. His family--especially his relationship with his family--isn't something he likes to talk about, except to Billy, apparently. He can't help but feel comforted by Billy's presence, believing he'll understand. "I don't know what's wrong with me that I can't do anything right by him. It always ends up this way. I'm sorry. I should have stayed in my room with my bad attitude rather than subject others to it." Dominic begins twisting the paper napkin, the gloom that had mostly dispelled beneath the cheer of Billy's presence blanketing over Dominic again.

Billy smiles into his coffee and pretends not to notice Dominic's sudden fidgeting. "Happy birthday, then. You've not been away from home for any extended period of time before university, have you? Perhaps your father still isn't sure how to react to how you might've changed since leaving home. And of course you have changed; we all do. Honestly, you've changed since the first time you came to my office, so I can testify to that."

As Dominic nods and continues to eat, Billy watches him, wondering if it would be terribly unprofessional of him to suggest that he and Dominic do something celebratory to in some way make up for Dominic not going home for his birthday. Billy finds that he wouldn't mind doing just that.

"When you're finished here, Dom, would you mind coming with me for a bit of a walk? There's something I've been wanting to do on the other end of town, but not so far that we'd have to drive, and, frankly I could use your help. If you've somewhere to be, I'd understand, of course, but ..."

"I don't have anywhere to be." Dominic's face lights up even as he tries to appear nonchalant. He's not even aware that it's impossible with his reactions to Billy. "No plans."

Dominic returns to his food with more enthusiasm, glad to know he won't be alone for a little longer. His imagination takes over, coloring his cheeks pink as he begins to pretend this is a date without even giving a thought to what they might be doing. Billy pushes his plate to one side and continues to drink his coffee, still thinking of birthdays, thinking How can you have no place to be on your birthday? even as he chooses to ignore the solitary birthdays he’s enjoyed himself. He questions Dominic about small things, insignificant things, the strange desire to see Dominic smile very much on his mind.

Billy fishes in his pocket for a handful of coins, dropping them to the table just as Dominic finishes his meal. "Well, then, up with us, and I'll try to explain why I need your help. It's, well, I suppose you could say it's a bit—" Billy turns his hand in a maybe–maybe not gesture and then pulls Dominic out onto the street. "Dodgy. Not illegal, don't worry, but maybe dodgy. And of course you can say no." Billy's eyes flicker to the shop windows as they walk, and he catches Dominic's reflection in the glass. "You can always say no."

Billy turns back to Dominic, smiling now. "I want a book, see, and the person who's got the book I want isn't terribly interested in selling it to me." Dominic's expression makes Billy laugh, a throaty sound. "No, I'm not going t'ask you to lift it for me. Would that it were that easy. No, what I need—well, let's just get there first."

Several blocks and even more small topics of conversation later, they're almost at the bookshop's door. Billy stops their walk again, looking at Dominic with an almost manic glee in his eyes. "This shop's owner's an old philosophy professor, see. Hates Kant with a passion, yet he will not give up this book. I think he's doing it just to watch me squirm, Dom. Here's the thing, though: he's German, right, and I thought you could maybe put in a good word for me. Convince him I'm not going to sell the book? It's not like it's some priceless artifact, but—" Billy moves closer, lowering his voice and raising his eyebrows. "I want this book, and I've been trying to get it from him for the past year. If you can help me, I'd be in your debt, Dom."

Billy holds Dominic's stare for another moment and then smiles cheekily as he pushes open the door to the bookshop. "Maybe I could return the favor afterward? For this and for your birthday?"

Dominic doesn't have a chance to reply before they're inside. The store is dark, one of those lovely places filled top to bottom with books. Dominic is a little nervous; it's finessing that Billy wants, and Dominic is eager to please. The scent of the place is lulling, all glue, paper, and leather. A good smell, one Dominic associates with learning, knowledge, and Billy. He thinks he could spend the rest of the day here, poking around the shelves, or even better, curled in a corner to read and hide. Maybe another day.

At the moment, Billy is nudging him toward their mark: the owner. The old man reminds him very much of his grandfather—his father's father—who had passed away when Dominic was ten. Dominic instantly likes the bookseller and his nervousness leaves him.

"You again." The old man's voice is gruff, but there is a twinkle in his eye that shows his grudging fondness for Billy. They've obviously played at this many times in the past. "I've told you the Kant is not for sale. Kant shouldn't be sold under any circumstances, but certainly not to the likes of you." Before Billy has time to respond just as fondly, Dominic's off and running.

"Guten Abend, Grossvater. Wir sind nicht für den Kant hier." Dominic's encouraged by the surprise on the old man's face to take another step forward. "Ich bin Philosophie-Student und mein Professor hat mich hierher mitgenommen, damit ich Sie treffe."

The man launches into a chuckling history of Billy's pleading over the last year, complete with expansive gestures and finger–pointing. Dominic's smile stays intact, widening for seconds at a time until he catches Billy's eyes and then returns to his former politeness. The old man is softening, Billy can tell. He brings Dominic behind the counter, motioning and telling him in hushed tones to get down the book, which Dominic does. As the bookseller and Dominic peer at its yellowed pages, Billy retreats to the back of the store.

The moment Billy's out of earshot, the old man's voice drops to a whisper. "So, he's sent you in here to convince me, eh?" he says quietly in German. "You don't look the Kant type. And are you more than his student, lad? He's never brought anyone here before."

Dominic blushes at the question, but shakes his head no. "He's my professor and mentor," Dominic whispers. "It's my birthday. He just brought me here to cheer me up, I think."

"To a bookstore?"

"It's a very nice bookstore." Dominic doesn't want to explain that a trip to the rubbish bin with Billy would have made his day complete, as the old man already seems to know how Dominic feels toward Billy. Picking up the book carefully in both hands, almost reverently, Dominic looks at the leather cover and runs his fingers over the lettering. "I'd really like to do something nice to thank him."

The bookseller then follows Dominic's glance to Billy, in a deep crouch at the back of the store, running his fingers down a row of poetry books in several different languages. Billy pauses at one volume, surprised when he finds upon flipping to the frontispiece that it's not poetry at all, but a German translation of Basic Works of Aristotle, one of many texts Billy recommends to students who are struggling in his classes.

For a moment Billy weighs the book in his hands, considering how inappropriate it would be to purchase it for Dominic. Billy scans the pages then looks up, blessing fate for having allowed the book to fall into his hands. His decision made, Billy stands and moves back to the front of the shop with the book and four others. Dominic and the shopkeeper are bent low over the man's counter, their fingers moving across the pages of Billy's desperately wanted book. Billy just watches for a moment, and waits.

"Your mentor," the old man says to Dominic, shaking his head. "Comes in here and buys books six or seven at a time, but I've got a feeling," he sighs. "My books are bent and open all over his house, and never finished. He doesn't have the air of someone who finishes anything." To temper his words, the shopkeeper offers Dominic a smile. "But a good man overall, if one overlooks his fascination with Kant. Doesn't know he makes you blush like that, does he? Look, here he is with another armful. Is it worth it to let him have this book, young man?"

"Yes, please." Dominic's voice is eager and breathless. He looks at the man, his face open, pleading.

"You be careful, boy," the bookseller mutters beneath his breath, as he hands the book to Dominic.

Billy's fingertips have gone white from pressing into the books he's carrying, but he can tell Dominic's come through. He says nothing but smiles broadly, advancing toward the till with his stack of books and placing them carefully on the counter.

"Found a few new things, Harry," Billy says. "I wish I could buy more, but this is it for today, unless ..." Billy lets it hang in the air, just as he'd left his question for Dominic earlier. "In any case, there's nowhere else I'd rather go bankrupt, as you know." He pulls out his wallet and meets Dominic's eyes again, smiling as he would at any other time. "Everything alright, Dom?"

Dominic nods, holding the Kant against his chest as if afraid the bookseller will change his mind. He stands at Billy's side as he pays, and it's not until they are walking out the door that he feels elation at having done Billy's bidding so well. Dominic stops them on the street, turning toward Billy to offer the book with both hands. He watches Billy intently, wanting to catalogue Billy's reaction. "He was very nice," Dominic says, his cheeks still flushed. "I didn't really think he was going to let me have it."

Neither did I, Billy thinks but doesn't say. Billy's not sure when he last felt this much pulse–pounding greed. Cajoling and great sums of money had gotten him nowhere with Harry Oberstaff, but Dominic had spoken with the man for only minutes, and here he stands with Billy's treasured book in his hands.

I could kiss you, Dom, Billy thinks, then, laughing nervously, at the vivid picture the words create in his mind. "I'm floored," he says softly, honestly. "Whatever you did in there, whatever you said, I'm very grateful, Dom." Billy takes the book from Dominic's hands, tracing his fingers along the spine. "You must have some kind of gift. I'll pay you in kind, I promise. Whatever I can do for you, I will. For starters," Billy offers another laugh, and gestures Dominic to walk again with him. "It's still your birthday. What d'you normally do, hmm? Besides, going home. I know it's not standard procedure to spend one's birthday with one's professor, but ..." Billy can feel his smile turning shy, so he flattens it and then laughs again. "Look, I'm not the type to offer party cake, and you don't seem the type to enjoy it anyway. And because I refuse to believe that you planned to spend your whole afternoon unhappy, tell me. What would you be doing if I hadn't found you in the chip shop?"

"I don't know. I guess if my mates were still around I would have gone to the pub, maybe played a few games of billiards or darts." Dominic scratches the stubble on his chin, catching the flash of uncertainty in Billy's eyes. They both know he can't be seen drinking with a student, however often he occasionally holds mock–study sessions at the Reichenbach Fall. Suddenly remembering a flyer he'd seen earlier in the week, Dominic jams his hands into his pockets, hoping he's hitting on something that would interest Billy. "There's a Hitchcock film festival at the Sherlock Theatre."

"Brilliant," Billy nods decisively. "I shouldn't be drinking anyway, not with this cold, and I've not seen half the films they're running. My treat, seeing how you've done me such a favor, and because it's your birthday. Are you much into movies, then, Dom? And are you a popcorn or crisps man?"

"Popcorn. With extra butter." Dominic's face lights up as he realizes that not only will he not be alone, but he can pretend again that this is a date. "I love movies. I wouldn't tell this to anyone else, but I love those awful American movies--the ones with the car chases that go on for half the movie and things blowing up." Dominic laughs, thinking of the last one he saw. "If it's got Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jackie Chan, then I'm happy."

"Man after my own heart," Billy laughs, pressing his hand to Dominic's shoulder before he turns back to their walk. "I like arty crap, and the occasional, em—blockbuster. Thank god Hitchcock passed away before he had the chance to direct Schwarzenegger, yeah? What he would have done with him, I shudder to think."

Billy walks faster now, and Dominic keeps up with his pace. Before long they are at the Sherlock, a grand building only open three days a week to keep from running the cinema owners bankrupt. Its lobby is small but ornate, and while Billy's only seen a few films here, he knows well the bounty of its concession stand.

"Vertigo and The Birds," Billy sighs, looking up at the evening's schedule. "Seen both. Still, it's been years since I've seen Vertigo. What d'you think?" He turns toward Dominic, who nods happily. "Vertigo it is."

After paying for the tickets, Billy hands Dominic one and nods again, this time toward the hall leading to the smaller of the Sherlock's two screening rooms. "I'll fetch the food, Dom; you get some good seats, yeah?"

Dominic walks down the hall and evaluates the empty theatre. He likes to sit up close, to take in all the action and immerse himself into the film's story, but his imagination is quick to present a picture of Billy and himself in the back row, making out during the previews. And the film. And the credits. What good sense he has left puts him nearer the front than the back. Only a minute later, though, Dominic is up and headed to the back row, in the center. His bravado doesn't last long before he's up again, choosing a seat in the third row from the front. His imagination sends him back up the row where he's faced with Billy as he pushes the door open. Dominic tries not to wonder if Billy had seen his trips up and down the aisle, and instead steps forward to reach for one of the drinks and popcorn bucket. "I wasn't sure where you wanted to sit. Close or in the back?"

"Back, always," he laughs, motioning Dominic to sit first. "One, so no one's behind me talking or throwing shite at the back of my head. And two, so I can make a run for it if the movie's awful. You may have noticed in class that I don't have the widest span of attention. I do make an exception for Hitchcock, and I will for your sake, as well. Wouldn't do to abandon you." Billy tosses a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Especially on your birthday. It's been a good day, don't you think?"

"Didn't start off that way, no, but yeah." Dominic blushes as he smiles, reaching up to ruffle the back of his hair. "You've made it a good day--a good birthday. Thank you."

Billy casts his widest smile Dominic's way just as the lights begin to dim in the theatre. "Well, to be fair, Dom, you've made it an excellent day for me as well. I would have done nearly anything for this book, and here all it took was a few minutes of gossip in German, or so I'm guessing. Oh, this is brilliant, look."

Dominic squirms around in his seat a bit before settling and watching where Billy points. It takes a few minutes before he's engrossed in the previews, often his favorite part of going to movies. The screen in front of them flickers with black and white movie trailers, a specialty of this theatre when they show classic films. Once the lights dim and Dominic's mechanically moving his hand from the popcorn to his mouth, everything else fades away--the fight with his father, his birthday, even Billy. Nothing exists except the film and popcorn, and even popcorn is a distant second when he becomes distracted with his hand half lowered to the box, but still suspended. After a moment, he whispers, "Brilliant," and resumes eating.

"Quite a change, innit?” Billy murmurs, slumping down a bit, fully intending to give every bit of his attention to Hitchcock's perfect little film. Well, every bit that isn't suddenly and strangely focused on his student's long fingers digging into the popcorn bucket. “To see Jimmy Stewart as such a flawed man. Even the best of us have cracks. They just don't always show until you get up close. Unless we're talking about me, in which case the cracks are visible from miles away." Billy drops his hand into Dominic's bag of popcorn, coming up with a handful he quickly devours. "Saltier than mine. Here, have a go. Oh, now look there. Kim Novak. Never trust the glacial blondes, eh, Dom? Female or male." Again Dominic's eyes flit to Billy's, and this time Billy laughs out loud before settling back in his seat. "Alright, sorry. I bet you thought I'd let you actually watch this film."

Continued here