Fic: New Beginnings 6 SB/VM
Aug. 28th, 2003 11:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ladymoonray.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rugbytackleTitle: New Beginnings Part 6
Author email: ladymoonray@yahoo.com
Pairing: Sean B/Viggo
Rating: PG this part
Feedback: Please
Summary: Viggo is worried. Sean is pissed off.
Disclaimer: I made it up
Archiving: BTF and my site (http://www.digitalcandy.net/~ladym) only please.
Notes: For the minions. And for Brenda; always my inspiration. I'm sorry it's taking so long to write this series. It's difficult, and sometimes downright nasty to write. But I promise it will be finished eventually.
You can read Parts 1-4 on my site here. Part 5 is currently available here and will shortly be up on my website. Big thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
megolas for hosting the site, and to Gloria for helping me maintain it.
Part 6
Viggo winced as the door slammed behind him, but he headed for the lift anyway. It was all too important to turn back now. Sean needed a chance to think, to come to terms with the way things had to be. Viggo hated leaving him. He knew what a mess Sean would be, but it had to be done.
Viggo was lucky enough to find a cab in the road outside. He headed for a little guesthouse he knew, back in the West End of London. Well away from Sean, closeted in his Docklands apartment.
He checked in, but couldn’t settle in the small, stuffy room. Perhaps a walk would help.
Viggo loved being anonymous in a big city. Any big city would do, but London was a particularly fascinating one. Wearing a baseball cap to help avoid being recognised, he strolled among the crowds in Shaftsbury Avenue. He reflected that he’d give almost anything to be able to do this with Sean. But sadly, the face that was so dear to him was just too well known here.
The lights around Piccadilly Circus blurred as Viggo stood by a fountain, staring at them. As he started to move on, he was rather startled to find the face in his head mirrored by the face on a poster. Of course, Macbeth. He was standing outside a ticket agency. Sean would have to perform tonight, like any other night. Viggo had forgotten that when he walked out of the apartment.
On impulse, Viggo walked into the agency, and bought a ridiculously expensive ticket for the evening performance. He knew it was a little sadistic, an alarming mirror of his previous attitude to the relationship. But he wanted to know how Sean was coping. The agency clerk looked at him quizzically when he asked for a seat at the back of the stalls, but it would never do to have Sean pick him out. He’d be sure to be scanning the audience.
Or maybe not. Perhaps he really was that professional. Viggo wasn’t sure whether he had an inflated view of his own importance in Sean’s life. After all, his career had taken off even further since they’d separated.
Viggo glanced at the performance time on the ticket. There was time for some more wandering, and maybe something to eat.
He remembered Orli raving about Soho; a busy, vibrant, sometimes violent place. Consulting the map he’d picked up in the ticket agency, Viggo headed back along Shaftsbury Avenue, then turned north up the first street that caught his eye.
The area was jammed with cars trying to navigate the narrow roads, but it was another chilly night and there weren’t too many pedestrians about. Viggo picked a restaurant at random. It was a tiny sushi bar with steamed-up windows, and an exceptionally tacky neon sign.
A few heads turned as he entered and sat at a table near the window. He waited for someone to come along and take his order. He intended to ask for a recommendation rather than choose for himself from the menu. However, none of the staff chattering at the counter took any notice of him. He sat there for a good fifteen minutes, not wanting to appear rude by trying to attract their attention.
Viggo prided himself on his ability to know where he wasn’t wanted. He got up and left, heading back towards Leicester Square and the nearby theatre where Sean would appear. He would feel more secure and comfortable there.
Wandering down a side street, Viggo noticed a young man poking around in a huge trash container situated at the side of the road. It seemed to be full of bags of papers. As the container was placed outside a college building, Viggo couldn’t imagine what the young man found to be of such interest. He slipped into a doorway to watch for a moment.
The man was dressed in cheap track pants and a T-shirt. He was working so hard though, he didn’t seem cold. He was systematically taking each bag out of the trash container, riffling through it, and either returning it to the pile or setting it carefully to one side. As Viggo watched, he seemed to come to the end of his efforts. The young man turned and looked towards the bright lights of the main street. As if on cue, a smartly dressed man appeared, and walked quickly up the street with a clipboard under one arm. The young man fell into step beside him as he passed, and they both disappeared round a corner. The carefully sorted trash bags seemed to have been abandoned.
Viggo shook his head and moved on. He would never understand the English.
Leicester Square was full of people, as usual. But they were all hurrying, on their way somewhere or other. It was too cold to linger, despite the bright lights and huge movie ads.
Viggo remembered a small Italian restaurant just off the square, where he knew he’d be welcome and the food would be good. He was relieved to find that he was right about both. The waitress gave him the last available table, squeezed into the corner by the bar. Viggo didn’t mind. He hadn’t realised how cold he was, and it was very pleasant to sit in the warmth, feasting on chicken and pasta, and washing it down with an appropriately rough red wine.
Viggo found himself reluctant to leave the restaurant. He felt guilty, and worried how Sean would perform under the stress he’d caused. But it would be better to see for himself than to let his imagination run away with him, so he made a carefully timed dash for the theatre. He didn’t want to get there early in case anyone spotted him, but he didn’t want to arrive late and be shut out of the theatre either.
Viggo had to pass a large family party to reach his seat. He kept his head down, and tried to make sure they didn't notice him. The children seemed to be absorbed in surreptitiously throwing sweets at each other, and the mother had her head buried in the programme. Unfortunately, Viggo had dressed that morning for a walk in the cold rather than for the theatre, and he heard the father of the smartly dressed family snorting with disgust. Still, at least nobody seemed to have recognised him.
He settled down in his rather cramped seat. He was just in time. Viggo jumped, along with the rest of the audience, at the crash of thunder signalling the beginning of the play. He wanted to sit back and enjoy the performance, but really he was too worried about Sean to sit still. He fidgeted constantly during the abstract battle scenes, unable to pick Sean out in the riot of movement and revolving lighting. He must have turned up though. There had been no announcement about a change of cast.
Viggo was unreasonably relieved to see Sean finally stride onto the stage. He hadn’t realised he’d been breathing strangely, but he forced himself to relax once his lover was in sight.
Things went well to begin with, and Viggo was once again in awe at Sean’s acting ability. However important or unimportant their relationship was in Sean’s life, he had not had a pleasant afternoon. But he seemed able to put that aside and become a very strong and impressive Macbeth. Viggo felt quite envious of Sean, having such an appreciative audience night after night.
However, Viggo began to notice little flaws as the play progressed. He hoped it was just that he knew Sean better than most people, but he couldn’t help notice the slight hiccup in “Cabin’d, cribbed, confin’d.” Sean was walking hesitantly, and holding back from all contact with the other actors. Viggo became increasingly convinced that he was slightly drunk. That was a real worry, with the swordfighting to come at the end of the play.
Viggo didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think of a way to get backstage quickly without causing an enormous fuss, and that was the last thing Sean would want. And what would he do once he got there? Stop the performance?
No, he’d just have to sit it out, and hope nothing went wrong.
Sitting it out did not go well for Viggo. Every time Sean had a long speech to make, he held his breath, waiting for the slurring to start. Each time it did, it seemed nobody but Viggo noticed.
The battle scene was even more terrifying for Viggo, but nothing actually went wrong. Again, Viggo couldn't be sure whether or not it was his imagination, but the rest of the cast seemed to be treating Sean with extra care. Whether that was true or not, something or someone was watching over the play. The audience seemed just as enthusiastic as ever, and there were three curtain calls.
More choices. Hang out with crowd at the stage door? No way, he'd be recognised. Hijack Sean's car again? No, they needed total privacy and a good long talk. Try to get backstage? No, not enough time. Fuck.
Viggo found himself drawn along with the tide of people. They carried him out of the front doors of the theatre and down the road towards Trafalgar Square. He managed to step aside into an alley, letting the crowd go past. He paused a moment to think.
He needed to speak to Sean. Tonight. Alone. It seemed his only choice was to meet him at the apartment.
Viggo fell into step with the stragglers leaving the theatre. He hoped he'd be able to find a taxi, because he wasn't exactly sure of Sean's address. He'd have to rely on some help from the driver.
He wandered around for a while, searching in vain for an available taxi. He'd never experienced London like this before, but it seemed that all the theatre performances ended at the same time. The sidewalks were crammed with people, and all the taxis seemed to be taken.
Viggo turned around and walked back to Trafalgar Square. He would just have to wait until everyone had gone home, and in the meantime he would people-and-sight-watch in one of the world's most famous tourist attractions. He'd gone wandering without a camera. But he'd remember the scene, and try to paint something later.
Disappointingly, half the square was covered with hoardings. In turn, the hoardings were covered with notices apologising for the building work. It seemed that the square was being completely reorganised and revamped. Viggo didn't mind. It just made the tourists more interesting, as they tried to find angles to photograph the square, and the National Gallery behind it, without showing the construction. He sat down on some stone steps, and concentrated on observing the flow of people through the square. The combination of hurrying streams of humanity, bright lights, cold air, and stop-start traffic was quite mesmerising.
It was too cold to sit there for hours, though. Which was a good thing, really, because Viggo was quite capable of being hypnotised by places and staying there for much too long. Instead, he stood up after half an hour or so, and looked around for a taxi. This time he was lucky, and very grateful to be able to sprawl on the seat in the warm.
He felt rather silly explaining to the driver that he couldn't remember the address properly. All he knew was the name of the building where Sean lived, and that it was near the river in the Docklands. The driver took it very well. Although he didn't recognise the building name himself, he called a friend on his cellphone, and soon they were on the way. The traffic was light, and Viggo was barely warmed through again when they arrived. He paid for the ride and a hefty tip with cash, cursing the cold and the unfamiliar notes. Then he turned to the apartment building. Sean must be back by now.
He pressed the button for Sean's apartment, standing by at the intercom with a plea to be allowed to talk. However, there was no answer. Viggo was puzzled by that, and rather cross. He was getting cold again, and not in the mood for playing games. Sean couldn't have seen him arrive. His apartment was at the back of the building.
Viggo took a quick walk round the building, and was surprised to find there were no lights on Sean's apartment.
With a sigh, he settled himself down to wait at the entrance to the car park. He didn't want to miss Sean's entrance. He really wasn't in the mood for another long wait in the cold. There wasn't even anything much to look at.
Unfortunately, a long wait in the cold was exactly what Viggo had to endure. It was over an hour before the limo pulled up. Sean didn't seem exactly surprised to see him. He just got out of the car, and waved to Mike to go on home. But when a shivering Viggo walked over to him, he didn't respond.
Instead, he just stood, swaying, in the street and shouted.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"
Oh great. Drunken, belligerent Sean. Viggo knew he deserved nothing less, but he was cold, and tired, and not even in the mood for talking. He took a deep breath.
"Sean, I came to talk to you. But I've been waiting for hours in the cold, and I'd really like to go inside. Is that OK with you?"
Sean just stared at him.
"No, it fucking isn't! You said you were going away until Friday. Well just fuck off till then and let me think, will you. I need to think, and I can't do it with you around."
Sean staggered past Viggo without looking up. After messing around with his keys for a minute, he opened the door, went in and slammed it behind him. He went for the lift without looking back.
Viggo let him go.
Author email: ladymoonray@yahoo.com
Pairing: Sean B/Viggo
Rating: PG this part
Feedback: Please
Summary: Viggo is worried. Sean is pissed off.
Disclaimer: I made it up
Archiving: BTF and my site (http://www.digitalcandy.net/~ladym) only please.
Notes: For the minions. And for Brenda; always my inspiration. I'm sorry it's taking so long to write this series. It's difficult, and sometimes downright nasty to write. But I promise it will be finished eventually.
You can read Parts 1-4 on my site here. Part 5 is currently available here and will shortly be up on my website. Big thanks to
megolas for hosting the site, and to Gloria for helping me maintain it. Part 6
Viggo winced as the door slammed behind him, but he headed for the lift anyway. It was all too important to turn back now. Sean needed a chance to think, to come to terms with the way things had to be. Viggo hated leaving him. He knew what a mess Sean would be, but it had to be done.
Viggo was lucky enough to find a cab in the road outside. He headed for a little guesthouse he knew, back in the West End of London. Well away from Sean, closeted in his Docklands apartment.
He checked in, but couldn’t settle in the small, stuffy room. Perhaps a walk would help.
Viggo loved being anonymous in a big city. Any big city would do, but London was a particularly fascinating one. Wearing a baseball cap to help avoid being recognised, he strolled among the crowds in Shaftsbury Avenue. He reflected that he’d give almost anything to be able to do this with Sean. But sadly, the face that was so dear to him was just too well known here.
The lights around Piccadilly Circus blurred as Viggo stood by a fountain, staring at them. As he started to move on, he was rather startled to find the face in his head mirrored by the face on a poster. Of course, Macbeth. He was standing outside a ticket agency. Sean would have to perform tonight, like any other night. Viggo had forgotten that when he walked out of the apartment.
On impulse, Viggo walked into the agency, and bought a ridiculously expensive ticket for the evening performance. He knew it was a little sadistic, an alarming mirror of his previous attitude to the relationship. But he wanted to know how Sean was coping. The agency clerk looked at him quizzically when he asked for a seat at the back of the stalls, but it would never do to have Sean pick him out. He’d be sure to be scanning the audience.
Or maybe not. Perhaps he really was that professional. Viggo wasn’t sure whether he had an inflated view of his own importance in Sean’s life. After all, his career had taken off even further since they’d separated.
Viggo glanced at the performance time on the ticket. There was time for some more wandering, and maybe something to eat.
He remembered Orli raving about Soho; a busy, vibrant, sometimes violent place. Consulting the map he’d picked up in the ticket agency, Viggo headed back along Shaftsbury Avenue, then turned north up the first street that caught his eye.
The area was jammed with cars trying to navigate the narrow roads, but it was another chilly night and there weren’t too many pedestrians about. Viggo picked a restaurant at random. It was a tiny sushi bar with steamed-up windows, and an exceptionally tacky neon sign.
A few heads turned as he entered and sat at a table near the window. He waited for someone to come along and take his order. He intended to ask for a recommendation rather than choose for himself from the menu. However, none of the staff chattering at the counter took any notice of him. He sat there for a good fifteen minutes, not wanting to appear rude by trying to attract their attention.
Viggo prided himself on his ability to know where he wasn’t wanted. He got up and left, heading back towards Leicester Square and the nearby theatre where Sean would appear. He would feel more secure and comfortable there.
Wandering down a side street, Viggo noticed a young man poking around in a huge trash container situated at the side of the road. It seemed to be full of bags of papers. As the container was placed outside a college building, Viggo couldn’t imagine what the young man found to be of such interest. He slipped into a doorway to watch for a moment.
The man was dressed in cheap track pants and a T-shirt. He was working so hard though, he didn’t seem cold. He was systematically taking each bag out of the trash container, riffling through it, and either returning it to the pile or setting it carefully to one side. As Viggo watched, he seemed to come to the end of his efforts. The young man turned and looked towards the bright lights of the main street. As if on cue, a smartly dressed man appeared, and walked quickly up the street with a clipboard under one arm. The young man fell into step beside him as he passed, and they both disappeared round a corner. The carefully sorted trash bags seemed to have been abandoned.
Viggo shook his head and moved on. He would never understand the English.
Leicester Square was full of people, as usual. But they were all hurrying, on their way somewhere or other. It was too cold to linger, despite the bright lights and huge movie ads.
Viggo remembered a small Italian restaurant just off the square, where he knew he’d be welcome and the food would be good. He was relieved to find that he was right about both. The waitress gave him the last available table, squeezed into the corner by the bar. Viggo didn’t mind. He hadn’t realised how cold he was, and it was very pleasant to sit in the warmth, feasting on chicken and pasta, and washing it down with an appropriately rough red wine.
Viggo found himself reluctant to leave the restaurant. He felt guilty, and worried how Sean would perform under the stress he’d caused. But it would be better to see for himself than to let his imagination run away with him, so he made a carefully timed dash for the theatre. He didn’t want to get there early in case anyone spotted him, but he didn’t want to arrive late and be shut out of the theatre either.
Viggo had to pass a large family party to reach his seat. He kept his head down, and tried to make sure they didn't notice him. The children seemed to be absorbed in surreptitiously throwing sweets at each other, and the mother had her head buried in the programme. Unfortunately, Viggo had dressed that morning for a walk in the cold rather than for the theatre, and he heard the father of the smartly dressed family snorting with disgust. Still, at least nobody seemed to have recognised him.
He settled down in his rather cramped seat. He was just in time. Viggo jumped, along with the rest of the audience, at the crash of thunder signalling the beginning of the play. He wanted to sit back and enjoy the performance, but really he was too worried about Sean to sit still. He fidgeted constantly during the abstract battle scenes, unable to pick Sean out in the riot of movement and revolving lighting. He must have turned up though. There had been no announcement about a change of cast.
Viggo was unreasonably relieved to see Sean finally stride onto the stage. He hadn’t realised he’d been breathing strangely, but he forced himself to relax once his lover was in sight.
Things went well to begin with, and Viggo was once again in awe at Sean’s acting ability. However important or unimportant their relationship was in Sean’s life, he had not had a pleasant afternoon. But he seemed able to put that aside and become a very strong and impressive Macbeth. Viggo felt quite envious of Sean, having such an appreciative audience night after night.
However, Viggo began to notice little flaws as the play progressed. He hoped it was just that he knew Sean better than most people, but he couldn’t help notice the slight hiccup in “Cabin’d, cribbed, confin’d.” Sean was walking hesitantly, and holding back from all contact with the other actors. Viggo became increasingly convinced that he was slightly drunk. That was a real worry, with the swordfighting to come at the end of the play.
Viggo didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think of a way to get backstage quickly without causing an enormous fuss, and that was the last thing Sean would want. And what would he do once he got there? Stop the performance?
No, he’d just have to sit it out, and hope nothing went wrong.
Sitting it out did not go well for Viggo. Every time Sean had a long speech to make, he held his breath, waiting for the slurring to start. Each time it did, it seemed nobody but Viggo noticed.
The battle scene was even more terrifying for Viggo, but nothing actually went wrong. Again, Viggo couldn't be sure whether or not it was his imagination, but the rest of the cast seemed to be treating Sean with extra care. Whether that was true or not, something or someone was watching over the play. The audience seemed just as enthusiastic as ever, and there were three curtain calls.
More choices. Hang out with crowd at the stage door? No way, he'd be recognised. Hijack Sean's car again? No, they needed total privacy and a good long talk. Try to get backstage? No, not enough time. Fuck.
Viggo found himself drawn along with the tide of people. They carried him out of the front doors of the theatre and down the road towards Trafalgar Square. He managed to step aside into an alley, letting the crowd go past. He paused a moment to think.
He needed to speak to Sean. Tonight. Alone. It seemed his only choice was to meet him at the apartment.
Viggo fell into step with the stragglers leaving the theatre. He hoped he'd be able to find a taxi, because he wasn't exactly sure of Sean's address. He'd have to rely on some help from the driver.
He wandered around for a while, searching in vain for an available taxi. He'd never experienced London like this before, but it seemed that all the theatre performances ended at the same time. The sidewalks were crammed with people, and all the taxis seemed to be taken.
Viggo turned around and walked back to Trafalgar Square. He would just have to wait until everyone had gone home, and in the meantime he would people-and-sight-watch in one of the world's most famous tourist attractions. He'd gone wandering without a camera. But he'd remember the scene, and try to paint something later.
Disappointingly, half the square was covered with hoardings. In turn, the hoardings were covered with notices apologising for the building work. It seemed that the square was being completely reorganised and revamped. Viggo didn't mind. It just made the tourists more interesting, as they tried to find angles to photograph the square, and the National Gallery behind it, without showing the construction. He sat down on some stone steps, and concentrated on observing the flow of people through the square. The combination of hurrying streams of humanity, bright lights, cold air, and stop-start traffic was quite mesmerising.
It was too cold to sit there for hours, though. Which was a good thing, really, because Viggo was quite capable of being hypnotised by places and staying there for much too long. Instead, he stood up after half an hour or so, and looked around for a taxi. This time he was lucky, and very grateful to be able to sprawl on the seat in the warm.
He felt rather silly explaining to the driver that he couldn't remember the address properly. All he knew was the name of the building where Sean lived, and that it was near the river in the Docklands. The driver took it very well. Although he didn't recognise the building name himself, he called a friend on his cellphone, and soon they were on the way. The traffic was light, and Viggo was barely warmed through again when they arrived. He paid for the ride and a hefty tip with cash, cursing the cold and the unfamiliar notes. Then he turned to the apartment building. Sean must be back by now.
He pressed the button for Sean's apartment, standing by at the intercom with a plea to be allowed to talk. However, there was no answer. Viggo was puzzled by that, and rather cross. He was getting cold again, and not in the mood for playing games. Sean couldn't have seen him arrive. His apartment was at the back of the building.
Viggo took a quick walk round the building, and was surprised to find there were no lights on Sean's apartment.
With a sigh, he settled himself down to wait at the entrance to the car park. He didn't want to miss Sean's entrance. He really wasn't in the mood for another long wait in the cold. There wasn't even anything much to look at.
Unfortunately, a long wait in the cold was exactly what Viggo had to endure. It was over an hour before the limo pulled up. Sean didn't seem exactly surprised to see him. He just got out of the car, and waved to Mike to go on home. But when a shivering Viggo walked over to him, he didn't respond.
Instead, he just stood, swaying, in the street and shouted.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"
Oh great. Drunken, belligerent Sean. Viggo knew he deserved nothing less, but he was cold, and tired, and not even in the mood for talking. He took a deep breath.
"Sean, I came to talk to you. But I've been waiting for hours in the cold, and I'd really like to go inside. Is that OK with you?"
Sean just stared at him.
"No, it fucking isn't! You said you were going away until Friday. Well just fuck off till then and let me think, will you. I need to think, and I can't do it with you around."
Sean staggered past Viggo without looking up. After messing around with his keys for a minute, he opened the door, went in and slammed it behind him. He went for the lift without looking back.
Viggo let him go.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 11:00 am (UTC)I like this: I like that Viggo can't stay away from Sean and is worried about him (though it's all his fault if Sean's hurting! Bad Viggo! ;) and I like very much that Sean's not giving in so easily. I'm very curious to see what's going to happen in the next installment... Not that I'm prodding you to write part 7 RIGHT NOW or anything. Ahem.
*prods* :)
no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 02:00 pm (UTC)As for part 7 - well, there's a certain other thing I have to finish off first. And then I'll get on with it, I promise!
no subject
Date: 2003-08-29 04:27 pm (UTC)Wow. Um. *blinks again* Thank you, sweetie. *glomps & rolls around, all puppy-like*
You know what I like best about this part? How much I could *see* everything, how much it made me miss London.
I also love Sean's anger & hurt, and love that you're not taking the easy way out with this.
*bounces
impatiently for the next part*no subject
Date: 2003-09-01 11:34 am (UTC)YOU LIKED IT!
*BOUNCE*
Ahem. Yes. Thank you. I'm so pleased!
no subject
Date: 2003-09-04 05:47 am (UTC)Wonderfully done, glad to see you haven't abandoned writing this series. I love the maturity, if that makes any sense---how Viggo and Sean just don't up and forgive one another right away. Beautifully written!
no subject
Date: 2003-09-04 08:28 pm (UTC)*SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*
Ahem. Thank you! You have no idea how much it means to know that there is somebody else out there reading New Beginnings. It feels rather as though I'm writing it for a few close friends and myself; which is no problem really, but it's nice to know you're reading too.
I haven't started Part 7 yet, because I have a rather large beta job to do for a couple of minions. But I WILL finish that this weekend, then I have a rather odd Wingfic to finish, then I'll get on with NB7. Promise!
And thanks again :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-05 05:03 am (UTC)