The last echoes of the old traditional New Years Eve song faded away. Into the silence rang the clear deep notes of a great bell. Everyone in the crowded room counted silently... one... two... three... When the bell cried out its note for the twelfth time, cheers, whistles and shouts of "Happy New Year!" erupted from the throats of the partygoers.
Elijah and Dominic were squashed together in a corner, where they had spent the greater part of the evening, along with a small group of friends. They looked at each other, suddenly quiet amidst the uproar. Elijah, ever the romantic, held out his hands.
"Make a wish, Dom," he said slurrily. "But close your eyes. It doesn't work unless you close your eyes."
"Uh, right," answered Dom, even more slurrily. "Close eyes." He took hold of Elijah's hands and while the room tilted unsteadily around them, they held on to each other, closed their eyes and wished.
Outside, high above the exploding fireworks and the clamour of church bells, an angel on an urgent mission, suddenly veered off course. Ignoring the fireworks bursting and fading below him, he headed for two bright beams of light, one sparkling, shimmering blue, the other a deep, deep gold. They pierced the roof of one of the houses far below and continued, straight and steady, up through the night sky towards the stars.
The angel hovered in the shining beams for a few moments. Their strength pleased him. Two such heartfelt wishes should not - could not - be ignored. Their sincerity overwhelmed him. Carefully, he entered the details into his digital personal organiser. Another moment passed as he checked the details, and then checked again. How very odd... ... did he REALLY want... ... but just as the angel was about to enter a query about this strange detail, the message of encouragement and hope which he was carrying to a downhearted missionary, began to wriggle impatiently inside the rucksack on his back. With a jump, the angel remembered his original assignment. Hastily, he entered 'granted' in the decision box of his personal organiser, gathered up the blue and gold light beams, eased them carefully into his rucksack, and sped away on his original course.
On unsteady legs, Dominic and Elijah climbed out of the cab and paid off the driver. "For your little children," mumbled Dom, pushing two helium-filled balloons through the passenger window. The driver, a seventy year old frail - looking grandfather of six, who came out of retirement only at times of special need, smiled wearily and thanked him before driving away, the balloons bobbing about cheerfully in the back of his cab.
Elijah, meanwhile, had managed to open his front door, and the kettle was beginning to boil before Dom appeared in the kitchen. Together they made a pot of tea and then carried their drinks into the living room, spilling hardly any at all. Contentedly, they sprawled on the couch, laughing at things they remembered about the party, sipping their tea, and every now and again introducing new and totally unconnected topics into the conversation, as is the way of things when too much wine has been enjoyed. Eventually, after discovering for the third time that his tea mug was indeed empty, Elijah yawned widely, smiled a sweet and unfocused smile at Dom, and levered himself slowly to his feet.
"Tired," he explained. "Bed." Slowly and carefully he made his way towards the door. The couch seemed suddenly very lonely with just him on it, so cautiously Dom followed his friend across the room. He found Elijah in the hall, holding on to the stair rail. A look of relief flooded across his face as he saw Dom approaching. Together, with much laughter and many curses, they got themselves up the stairs. They stopped outside the room which was Dom's whenever he stayed.
"Night Dom." Elijah placed his hands on his friends shoulders and leaned in towards his mouth, kissing him tenderly and sloppily. Dom's mouth, fortunately, caught on more quickly than his arms, which were still dangling uselessly at his sides when the long kiss ended.
Elijah had no recollection at all of arriving in his room, dropping his clothes more or less onto the armchair and falling into bed. The feel of Dom's mouth took up all his thoughts. Neither did Dom remember entering his own room, stripping off as he made his way towards his bed. His mind had no room for such trivial thoughts, being wholly engrossed on the memory of Elijah's lips on his.
Some hours later, Dom awoke to the fragrant smell of coffee. It took a while, but at last his eyes focused on the steaming mug placed on the table beside his bed.
"Drink it while it's hot," said Elijah's voice, soft and somewhat shaky. Dragging himself up so that he was resting against the headboard, Dom turned to look at Elijah. He was sitting on the bed, a mug of coffee clasped in his hands.
"Hi," said Dom, and sipped his drink while he tried to work out why Elijah looked... ..different. Then it clicked into place and he gasped. Elijah was wearing the night-shirt Frodo had worn in Rivendell.
"I didn't know you had that," he said when he'd caught his breath. Dom loved that nightshirt.
"I haven't," Elijah replied. "I don't know where it's come from."
Dom stared at him. He was sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest, but Dom could see that the opening was done up crookedly with beautifully decorated fastenings, except for - Dom caught his breath - the top three which were unfastened. He could see the pale, creamy skin of Elijah's chest and his stomach lurched.
"What d'you mean, you didn't know?"
Elijah turned his face towards Dom. "I don't know where it came from," he repeated softly. "It isn't one of the things they gave me when we finished filming."
"It suits you," Dom answered, without thinking. Elijah glared at him. It might have been alarming but for the fact that his dark hair was messy from sleep, sticking out at wild angles and spoiling the effect. For the thousandth time, Dom wanted to run his fingers through it, loosing them in its silky thickness. With an effort, he forced his mind back to the present.
"Well, s'ok Lij," he offered, "it... .. maybe they gave it to you and you just forgot."
Elijah was staring at his hands, still wrapped round his coffee mug.
"It won't come off," he whispered. He gripped his mug harder to stop his hands from shaking, and willed his eyes to absorb the tears that filled them, before Dom saw them.
Dom's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He goggled at his friend. And then he laughed, relieved that he's woken up sufficiently to realise just in time that this was one of Elijah's little jokes.
"Nice try Lij. Original, I'll give you that." He laughed again, then stopped abruptly. Elijah's eyes had given up the struggle and tears were beginning to slide down his cheeks.
"It won't come off Dom. I've tried."
Dom stared at him. This was a joke, right? Slowly, Elijah put down his coffee and stood by the bed. For the first time, Dom noticed the trembling in his hands. Elijah's hands began fumbling with the fastenings of the beautiful nightshirt. At last, they were all undone. Dom swallowed, hard. Heat rushed to his groin as he watched his best friend begin to undress in front of him.
"Bloody hell, Lij," growled Dom, "what're you doing?" His heart was thudding wildly in time to the hot pulse in his groin. Elijah ignored him.
Catching hold of the nightshirt in his left hand, he freed his right shoulder and arm. He stood unmoving by the bed for a brief moment, his dark blue boxers contrasting startlingly with his pale skin.
"Watch Dom," he whispered. Dom crawled to the edge of the mattress, dragging the sheet with him, for extra concealment. Was this an altogether different kind of joke, had Elijah set out to tease him in another way entirely? If so, he had succeeded.
But Dom was sure that Elijah didn't know how he felt, didn't know of the long nights spent wanting him, and the daylight hours lost in warm remembrances of his smile, the feel of his warm body pressed up against Dom in a crowd, the look of love on his friends face when he planned some surprise for his family. No, Elijah knew nothing of all this, so Dom sat on the edge of the bed, and waited.
Elijah had let go of the nightshirt. It fell softly, caressing his body as it almost floated to the floor and lay in delicate beauty around his feet.
"Watch," Elijah whispered again He took a deep breath and held it, his ribs standing out under his skin, stomach pulling in. His eyes flickered up once, to meet Dom's briefly. Then he lifted his right foot and placed it outside the folds of the nightshirt. Elijah was staring down at his feet.
For a long moment nothing happened. Then Elijah's hands clenched and he cried out. At the same instant Dom gasped, the warmth in his groin was overcome by an odd, cold feeling in his stomach, and the concealing sheet became unnecessary.
Both of Elijah's feet were inside the circle of nightshirt. Dom stared at him and forced himself to speak quietly. "Try again, with the other foot," he croaked.
Reluctantly, Elijah lifted his left foot and placed it down on the carpet, well away from the silver fabric. Again, a long moment passed by in silence, before Dom found himself staring at an empty patch of carpet where Elijah's foot had been only an immeasurably small amount of time earlier. Elijah's knees gave way and he lurched towards the bed, falling forward as his feet tangled in the nightshirt.
Dom leaped to catch him and they fell together onto the floor. Elijah became aware that Dom was talking to him, but his mind was struggling a little to make sense of the words.
"It's OK Lij, it's OK. We had too much wine last night; we're not properly awake yet. That's what it is, we're not awake yet. It's OK."
Dom pulled the nightshirt back up Elijah's body, manoeuvring his arms into the sleeves, trying, with shaking fingers, to fasten the front.
Elijah's eyes never left Dom's face. He was hanging on to the comfort in Dom's words, repeating them over and over as Dom, giving up on the fastenings, pulled Elijah to his feet and guided him towards the bed.
"We... we'll go back to sleep and when we wake up, everything 'll be all right again. Yeah." Dom pushed his friend onto the bed and they both crawled under the sheet, Elijah pressing himself against Dom and shivering.
Dom cautiously wrapped his arms around him. This was OK, surely. Only natural to comfort your friend during a bad dream.
"During?" said a tiny voice somewhere in the depths of Dom's mind. "During a bad dream? And both of us dreaming the same dream?" Dom stuffed in mental ear plugs.
"It'll be all right when we wake up properly," he insisted, feeling a confusing jumble of pleasure and anxiety as Elijah shivered still in his arms. Eventually, they both slept.
Elijah gradually floated up from the depths of sleep. He was warm and comfortable. Gradually he became aware of another body snuggled against him. Dom, of course. This was just how he'd imagined it would be, times without number; warm and comfortable, the two of them together, happy and content, sated and quiet after passion... ... . Passion? What passion? He didn't remember any passion.
Dom didn't know anything about the fantasies he drowned in every night, the feelings that whooshed through him every time he saw Dom smile, heard his voice, caught the scent of him. Dom knew nothing about the tingles which raced through Elijah's body every time they touched - so that on some days Elijah felt that his whole body was sparkling and fizzing, and that at any moment his skin would break at some weak spot and he would light up the room with the intensity of his passion.
No, Dom knew nothing of that. So why... ... ... ?
"Lij, you awake?"
"Mmm," and as he stirred, Elijah felt the movement of unfamiliar cloth against his skin, his eyes flashed open, and he remembered. Dom remembered too. They looked at each other.
"Back in a minute," said Dom, and he left the bed and headed off towards the bathroom.
Elijah became aware of his own urgent need, and kept his mind on that, blocking all other thoughts until Dom came back. The night-shirt had not disappeared while he slept. It swished about his body as he moved to take Dom's place in the bathroom. When he returned, he found Dom sitting on the end of the bed. Elijah stopped and looked at him.
"I need a shower," he said casually, although his heart was thumping hard in his throat, and his voice shook with the rhythm of it.
"I'll just take this thing off and... ... ... " his voice trailed away and he moved his hands vaguely. Dom nodded. This time, Elijah looked into Dom's face, and kept looking as he slid first one shoulder and arm out of the nightshirt, and then the other. Dom watched, his fists clenched. The only sound in the room was the faint sound of breath being drawn in and out, and the faint rustle of delicate fabric falling around pale feet.
With another cry of anguish, Elijah dragged the nightshirt up his body, frantically trying to pull it over his head, his hands clawing at it and his body bending and twisting in panic, his breath ragged and fast. For a second, he was free, just his arms inside, shaking off the garment with frenzied jerks. It slid past his fingers and settled itself around his feet once more.
Elijah grabbed it in shaking hands and once more dragged it up his body and over his head. When it settled again around his feet, Dom grabbed him and caught his hands, pulling him in close, to stop his panicked movements.
"Let me try," he said firmly. "You must be doing something wrong Lij. Let me do it. Try and keep still." Slowly, purposefully, Dom grasped the nightshirt and pulled it up towards Elijah's head. He held his breath. Elijah's breathing was rapid and panicked, and he moaned deep within his throat.
After Dom's fourth failure to remove the nightshirt, he realised that they'd better stop for a while. He sat on the floor, pulling Elijah down with him. Elijah promptly crawled into Dom's lap and pressed his face into Dom's neck. His whole body shook and his hands moved desperately against Dom's shoulders. His breathing was wrong, Dom realised. Too fast. Much too fast. Aloud, he said, "S'ok Lij. S'ok. Breathe slow, breathe slow, slow, with me. Slow Lijah" There was no response. Dom gripped Elijah's shoulders and pushed him away, then held his face between his hands.
"Look at me, Lijah," he commanded. "Elijah, look at me." Panicked, shocked blue eyes stared into Dom's.
"S'ok," he said again. "It's ok. It's ok. Breathe with me now. Slowly love. Slowly. That's right, nice and slow, nice and slow." Gradually Elijah's breathing slowed until at last his chest rose and fell with Dom's. He leaned in and rested his face against Dom's shoulder. Hands gently stroked his hair, his back, his arms, and all the time Dom's voice soothed him, calmed him, easing away the panic.
Time passed. Dom continued his endless repetitive litany of comfort and reassurance and his hands continued to caress. After a long while, Elijah stirred.
"Thanks Dom." His voice was calmer now with only a trace of panic at the edges. He made no attempt to move away, but took his hands from his friend's shoulders and hugged him, his hands resting on Dom's back.
"What do we do now?"
This was the question Dom had been asking himself over and over.
"We could try cutting it off," he suggested. "You got scissors?" Elijah had scissors, somewhere. He thought about the kitchen drawer, which was where he had last seen them, but that meant getting up and going into the kitchen, and, much as he wanted rid of this nightshirt, the thought of leaving Dom's lap saddened him. Only half aware of what he was doing, he held Dom tighter and pressed his face more deeply into his neck. His parted lips settled a tiny kiss there. He might never have another chance to cuddle like this with Dom, and he wanted it to go on for as long as possible. But he would be expected to get the scissors. He gave a sad little sigh.
Dom felt it and misunderstood. Of course Elijah would be starting to worry again, another attempt, and possibly another failure. He wanted the embrace to go on for ever, but, of course, that would be the last thing on Elijah's mind. Cursing himself for his selfishness, Dom rubbed Elijah's back and said gruffly," Don't worry Lij. It'll be all right. We were getting scissors?"
There are moments in life when an opportunity presents itself, and if not taken at once, will vanish and never return. Elijah felt a deep certainty within himself that this was such a time. He could let Dom continue to think that the sigh was just the slow beginnings of more panic, and keep his longings and passion hidden for ever, or he could tell him the truth and possibly ruin the best friendship he had ever known. He had been brought up well.
"I... ... That is... ... You smell nice." His lips pressed another soft kiss onto Dom's neck, while his heart began the slow process of breaking as he realised too late that Dom could not possibly love him as anything more than a friend.
Elijah's words echoed and echoed inside Dom's mind, which spun and twirled in crazy, tipsy circles, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. He must not fall into some enticing pool which would turn out to be a bottomless well, into which he would fall and drown for ever. So, Elijah thought he smelled good. He was still in shock, obviously, and no doubt had no proper control over what he was saying. He didn't mean it the way Dom would've meant it had he been the one to say it. He didn't mean that movement of his mouth to feel like a kiss, either. It was just his lips closing after confused speech. That was all.
Elijah sat up slowly. Dom hadn't heard him and he didn't know whether it was relief or regret which flooded through him.
"What did you say?" Dom's voice was desperately light. Elijah glanced up and saw pain written clear upon his friend's face, and hope already fading in his eyes. Dom thought he's heard wrong, decided he couldn't possibly have meant what Dom thought he had heard him say. Elijah held Dom's eyes with his own, but a blush stained his cheeks and he longed to look down.
"I said 'you smell good.'"
There was silence and stillness for a long time. To make his meaning quite clear, Elijah laid his hand upon Dom's cheek and gently caressed it with his fingertips. He moved closer until his mouth was covering Dom's, and he placed sweet kisses there. Dom closed his eyes as Elijah drew nearer and hardly dared to believe that this was happening. Elijah wouldn't kiss him, he wouldn't want Dom... ... ... ... .and then the kisses began and it seemed to them both that they would kiss and kiss and there would be no end.
The kisses stopped and Dom could have wept, but Elijah's mouth needed to say "I love you." And that was wonderful too. Now it was the turn of Dom's mouth to cease kissing, but only for a moment.
"I love you too." And then they were lying on the floor, kissing not just mouths but faces and throats; hands caressing arms and backs, and Dom ran his fingers through Elijah's hair and marvelled at its softness and lost his fingers for a long time.
Their kisses and caresses became more intimate until Elijah found his movement hampered by something wrapped around his feet. The nightshirt. For wonderful minutes he had forgotten it, lost in Dom's touch. Despair poured through him and reaching down he caught hold of it in both hands and tried to tear it apart, crying out his frustration as he did so. Stunned by this sudden change of mood, Dom watched for a moment. Then his hands caught hold of the fabric and together they wrenched at it. It remained undamaged.
"Scissors!" gasped Elijah, picking up on a conversation from long ago. Clutching the nightshirt around his waist, he stumbled towards the kitchen. Mercifully, the scissors were in the drawer. He grabbed them and returned to the bedroom, and Dom.
"I'll cut," said Elijah firmly, but at the last second he handed the scissors to Dom with a look which would have softened the heart of an Orc. Straight down the front seemed the obvious way, so they placed the nightshirt so that it was covering Elijah's legs, and Dom began to cut from the opening down towards the hem. He felt a deep but momentary regret at spoiling something so beautiful, and which had appeared in at least three quarters of his fantasies, but there was really no choice. The scissors sliced cleanly and easily down the seam, which just as cleanly and easily sealed itself behind them.
Elijah's eyes were huge in his face, and Dom noticed with concern that his breathing had begun to quicken again. He laid a reassuring hand on his friend's arm, and began to cut again. Elijah held the seam open in his hands next time, but somehow he found his hands clutching the fabric each side of the re-sealed seam. Dom threw down the scissors in frustration.
"Stay here love," he said as gently as he could. "I won't be long." He disappeared through the bedroom door, leaving Elijah to count the seconds until he returned.
"I think this'll be more effective," he announced, back from his errand. Elijah backed up against the bed and stared incredulously at the shears in Dom's hands. Dom sat down next his friend.
"There are so many things I want to do with you Elijah, I couldn't even begin to count them. I'll be careful." The shears were well looked after, the blades bright and sharp. Two swift cuts and he had reached the hem. The nightshirt lay over Elijah's legs, whole and uncut.
The carving knife fared no better; and after the first couple of cuts with a piece of broken glass, Elijah, wincing at the blood oozing onto Dom's fingertips, refused to let him continue. The nightshirt remained intact.
Because Dom's fingers were still sore Elijah cooked breakfast, which meant that they had toast and cereal. The nightshirt, with its long wide sleeves, was impractical in the kitchen, so he wore it rolled up around his hips. It looked odd against his jeans and t-shirt. Over breakfast, they decided to contact Peter Jackson and the Wardrobe Department in case they could offer any suggestions. On the surface, Elijah appeared calm, but Dom could tell that he was keeping panic away with difficulty.
They took their coffee into the living room and sprawled together on the couch. It reminded Elijah of last night, when they had sat there drinking tea after the New Years Eve party.
"Dom," he said, "yesterday. Did anything happen that might've caused... this?" He gestured at the rolled up nightshirt. Dom stared at him.
"Lijah, what're you saying?" Elijah rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles, curled his toes into the carpet.
"I'm saying... ..look, this is so weird, maybe something weird or just plain stupid happened to cause it. That's all. What did we do yesterday?" They both thought.
"Shower, breakfast, stuff like that," this from Dom. "We drove out into the desert, I tried out that remote-control aeroplane - nothing there. Did you get anything in the post?"
Elijah gave a startled laugh. "Threats and curses you mean? Now who's being weird."
"Just a thought. We went to that party in the evening, drank wine, hung out with friends. Nothing we haven't done before."
Elijah stopped rubbing his knuckles, and then dropped his hands onto his knees. A faint memory stirred in Dom's mind.
"Do that again."
"That thing you did with your hands. Do it again." Elijah blinked, then raised his hands and then lowered them to his knees again.
"No. You didn't do that. You had your hands here... " Dom pushed Elijah's hands back until they were against his stomach.
""You had your hands here and you... " Dom gestured at his hands, making forward movements to show him. Elijah extended his arms out in front of him, then lowered his hands to his knees.
With a puzzled frown, Elijah did it again. A memory was growing in Dom's mind, a memory of Elijah making that same gesture.
"The wishes! You said 'make a wish' and you held out your hands like that, and we held hands and... and ... .we wished."
"You're crazy! I didn't wish for this!" Elijah pulled at the nightshirt, then spun round to face Dom, his eyes blazing.
"You didn't wish... ... ... !"
"NO!!" Dom cried out, shocked and hurt. "I love you. I wouldn't wish you trapped in anything." Two pairs of eyes locked together.
"I know. I'm sorry. But it's got to be something, think!"
"I think you'd better think, too! And I think you'd better think very hard!"
Elijah and Dom both spun round to look over the back of the couch. They gazed, in absolute disbelief, for at least a minute. Their hands edged towards each other's and held fast.
"It would be nice if you invited me to sit down!"
Elijah gestured towards an armchair, his other hand still holding onto Dom's.
"Thank you. Most kind." The angel strode across the carpet and settled himself deeply into the armchair, his wings apparently perfectly happy with the arrangement. He produced a small, digital personal organiser from somewhere within his robes, and pressed a few keys. He looked up and smiled. Elijah and Dom shrank back as one into the couch. The angel attempted to put them at their ease.
"Is that coffee I smell?" he asked cheerfully. "I could just do with a mug if you don't mind."
Wordlessly, Elijah left the couch and backed his way over the carpet and into the kitchen. The fourth mug he dropped actually fell on his foot and did not break. He filled it with coffee.
"Just a dash of milk please. And no sugar. I have to watch my weight." The angel's deep, gentle voice floated in through the kitchen doorway. He could read minds, obviously. The implications of that thought hit Elijah as he cautiously advanced towards the angel. He stumbled and would've fallen and dropped the coffee, but the angel was there, right in front of him, holding him up and he'd caught the coffee too.
"Thank you. This smells delicious," the angel said. Then, anxiously, "aren't you going to have any? It really smells very good."
Dominic, in his shocked state, thought this was a command, and he leaped nervously to his feet, and backed towards the door. Once in the kitchen, he hastily made two more coffees, and, stepping over the pile of broken crockery - to which he had contributed another mug -made his way back to the couch. Elijah was sitting there and trying hard to appear relaxed and calm. He was fairly certain that the angel was not fooled.
Dom arrived with more coffee, which helped a little bit. The two of them sat closely together on the couch and waited for the angel to speak.
"Don't look so worried!" he exclaimed. "This is really a 'follow-up' call you might say. This conversation is being recorded for training purposes."
The angel noted that this did not seem to help matters so he started to explain in more detail.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," he began "but I have in my records here," he tapped his personal organiser, "an entry indicating that you each made a wish last night. That is correct, is it not?" The two on the couch looked at each other and then at the angel. Wonderingly, they both nodded.
"Good, good. Now, it is usual to follow up such things, but - er -from more of a distance, you might say. We don't, as a general rule, have a chat with you face to face. Any questions so far?"
Thousands, thought Dom, but he shook his head.
"Please carry on," Elijah's voice was rather faint. The angel beamed.
"Good. Right. As I was saying, this is a 'follow up' call regarding your wishes made last night. You see, the reason I'm here is because there was a rather - odd - detail which I have noted here in my records, and we felt, back at H.Q. that it needed to be checked up on. Tell me, is everything working out all right? Any problems with it at all?"
"He can't get that nightshirt off," replied Dom.
"I can't get this nightshirt off," answered Elijah at the same time.
"Yeeeesss, we wondered about that. That was the bit which had us rather concerned." The angel steepled his fingers and gazed thoughtfully at Dom.
"Tell me, Dominic," he said, "why did you want Elijah to wear this nightshirt for the rest of his life?"
Dom felt his throat constricting and he struggled for breath. His insides felt as if they were all about to leave his body by the nearest exit.
"I, I didn't" he whispered, close to tears. He turned to Elijah, who was staring at him in horror. "I didn't wish that."
"Well what DID you wish?" Elijah's voice was hurt, and uncertain.
"Shhhhhhhh! I think I'd better ask the questions. Dominic, what DID you wish, if you didn't wish that?" The angel was still steepling his fingers, and looking relaxed, but there was a steely glint in his eye which did not bode well for those who screwed up.
Dom flushed, and squirmed. He twisted his hands together.
"I wished, I wished that Lijah would love me the way I love him and that it would last for our lifetimes." He met the angel's stern gaze as he spoke, and gripped his friend's hand. He heard a gasp close to his ear, and his hand was squeezed gently.
"That's exactly what I wished. I love Dom and I wanted us to be together and happy all our lives."
"Yes, yes, yes!" exclaimed the angel, with just a hint of impatience. "But that is true already, and I can't give you what you've already got. All you had to do was to find it out for yourselves."
"Sooooo... .?" Obviously, they still didn't understand.
"So, if your first wish is already true, we take your second wish, and grant you that instead. Which is where the rather fetching nightshirt comes in. Tell me your thoughts concerning that item Dominic."
Dom cringed, and lowered his eyes to stare at one of their visitor's boots. The lace was undone he noticed absently.
"Come along Dominic, it can't be that bad, I'm an angel of the world you know, I've seen a thing or two."
"I think Elijah's sexy in whatever he wears," began Dom in a quiet voice," but when I saw him in that nightshirt, when we were filming, I ... I... I couldn't get it out of my head. He looked so, so... ."
The angel nodded understandingly.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said. "Continue please."
"I thought how fantastic it would be if we were together and any time we wanted to, he could wear that and we could... I could... " Dom's voice trailed away to silence. He was blushing furiously.
Elijah was looking at him with an odd expression on his face. Gently, he squeezed Dom's hand again.
"I see. And that is where the mistake came in, I believe. I must confess that I was in rather a hurry last night and I rather think that I became a little confused when I wrote up my notes. So, let us get this straight. You wanted to be able to take your boyfriend to bed with him wearing that nightshirt, at any time that you both chose, and for this to continue as long as you live. Is that right?"
"It sounds right," Dom answered carefully. "I didn't mean for him to wear it all the time for the rest of his life. I just wanted ... ... " He turned to Elijah.
"You're so hot when you wear that!" he exclaimed. Elijah blushed.
"Well, I think that's all sorted then. Anything you wish to add? No? Good." He keyed in a few comments into his personal organiser then looked up and smiled at them.
"Hold on a minute! What about Elijah's second wish, we're not going to run into trouble there are we?" Dom turned to him. "What did you wish?"
Elijah looked confused. "I'm not sure," he mumbled. "Do you know?" he asked the angel, now preparing to leave.
"Of course I know," he replied. "It's all right, there's nothing to worry about." He gave a broad wink, and was gone.
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Story notes: Thank you and much love to Anni and Justine, without them this story would have been neither written nor posted.
Chapter notes: Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and contains no truth whatsoever as far as I know.