( IF I HAD BEEN THERE )

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
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to be quite honest, callum wasn't nervous about his dad's at all really. no, that's a lie, he was. but he knew he shouldn't be. he knew full well that the two of them knew full well what they were doing. they weren't idiots. that was who callum was. throw elliot in the mix and it made the situation even harder to resist. yeah, they knew. he wouldn't tell elliot that, god no. she'd probably have a heart attack and never leave his room. not that he'd complain... but her dad might have something to say about that. cal's parents knew, but... they wouldn't say anything downstairs. no, lie again, they might. though it would more than likely be something of a jest or insinuation. to which, pierre--being the kind and thoughtful man he was--would elbow ted in the ribs and mutter something that both callum and elliot would more tan likely be able to hear, for fear that theodore rice was about to hurt elliot casey's feelings. because that... was just the kind of person he was. it wouldn't effect callum what so ever. never did. it was slightly amusing that both of his dad's knew exactly what he did but didn't seem to care. sure they threw comments at him from time to time, but they never forced him to stop. they let him do his own thing. quite possibly because callum rice normally got what he wanted, and quite successfully talked his way out of nearly every situation. typically by... not talking at all. especially when it came to his father's. they weren't the abusive type--either because they knew what he'd been through or because they were just... not douche bags--so they wouldn't track him down and hold him there to tell him what's what. they both totally could too. they were larger and generally stronger than cal was. theodore worked out on a daily basis. cal was a stick. in the most attractive way possible.

then there was the fact that the rice's were totally team elliot. they were the kind of team elliot where you made shirts and argued with other supposed team elliot's over the fact that you were more team elliot than they were. they were totally for elliot as far as getting callum went. though, arguably, no one would get callum. he wasn't in that stage of life yet. he couldn't fork it over to a ring and a shared household. well... come to think of it the house wouldn't be such a problem it was the ring that would. theodore and pierre rice had been for elliot since day one. the first day he dated her. literally. they found out and it was all down hill from there. simply because callum had something to say about her. they'd asked where he was going, he'd replied and then they'd inquired as to who he'd be going with. and... he'd replied. on any normal occasion by this point callum would've more than likely just left the house, without saying a word. perhaps a 'bye now' a 'don't wait up' or a 'goodnight'. but he flat out told them. callum might nit have been aware that it was such a big deal then, but it had been to them. and then there was meeting elliot casey. who could possibly meet her and not love her? she was sweet and shy and so goddamn beautiful. in fact... cal was pretty sure both pierre and ted had told her that numerous times the first time they met her. who wouldn't that had a large mouth and a habit to spill just about anything that came to mind? she was. she was gorgeous. absolutely perfect. without knowing so. which only added to it. god he was so lucky...

no, that was the wrong thing to say. he didn't have her. she wasn't his. sure, he could get her to do whatever the fuck he wanted, but that didn't make her his. it just emphasized his less redeemable qualities. his skill at manipulation. and she was the easiest to manipulate. if that wasn't already obvious enough. he had her in the palm of his had. that... wasn't something to be proud of. ever. especially since she was so easy. but she put up her own fights... from time to time. he was fairly certain that she'd be pissed as hell if he'd stopped just before finishing the deed a moment ago. but no, he wasn't out to torture her. because stopping right then would no doubt torture him as well. and, well, he wasn't that much of a tease. by this point he was just as far gone as she was. so teasing to the point where you're teasing yourself is just... no fun at all. oh god, if ellie were to ever learn from him... her teasing callum would more than likely be the death of him. that... he wouldn't be able to handle.

the movement took little to no effort, which was fine by him, seeing as how that was the best kind: the kind you hardly had to work for but gave you the best feeling. this was probably more of a bad idea than he'd previously imagined. being so close, the feeling, simply having her was enough to make him not want to let her go. it just didn't make sense anyway. if something felt right, felt so damn right... why wouldn't you just do it? the it not being sex with elliot right now, because obviously... they were doing it. but her. it was her. being with her. keeping her. her being his and vice versa. if it felt so damn right to be around her it only made sense that he'd keep it up. despite her father and mother. despite his addiction to sex. despite how much of a bad influence she was. it only made more sense the more he thought about it. callum and elliot felt right. as the two of them. as a...couple. it obviously wasn't working apart. he was different now. different since he met her. got her pregnant. had a child. dear god, he had a child. whether he wanted to admit it or not he was growing up faster than normal and there was nothing in hell he could do about it.

the strangled moan he elicited from her was enough for a small noise of sorts of his own but he fought it. only moving just that bit faster as if to squeeze another noise out of her. though any louder and there would be no doubts that the rice's could hear what they knew was happening in callum's room. all at once it became that much more. the feeling, the intensity. he knew he was close and he purposely kept his lips pressed to hers just that bit harder. the feeling was normal for him. the routine. he knew sex like the back of his hand but somehow she made it feel new. feel different. he felt bad at it. he felt like this was his first time. only he felt that every time he had her in his arms. every time. quite unexpectedly he released just as she did, his body pressing down on her as she arched up, as if they were trying with all their fucking might to just... absorb into each other. either that or they were fighting each other off. as he came his lips pulled away from hers, remaining slightly parted and but a millimeter or two away from hers. he just lay there a moment. what else could he do? he wanted to be close to her. fuck, he wanted to do it again. but there was no way around this dinner. one... they were upstairs. and two... he'd called for it. there was no way around it now. they had to get dressed, they had to get downstairs. soon. dressed and looking presentable. fuck.

he pressed his face to the side of hers a moment. just breathing. as if it would bring him back to reality. because he certainly wasn't in reality a few moments ago. and before saying or doing anything he craned his neck slightly and kissed her neck once, slowly... softly. with that he pulled out of her and rolled off, careful not to put too much weight on her, though he knew he wasn't exactly heavy. he was just careful. he was always careful. he didn't want her hurt. or her skin bruised, or anything of the sort. she had to stay the way she was. safe as she was. despite how much callum himself could be the death of her. within a moment he worked his way to sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees. he let a moment or two pass... more breathing, more remembering before reaching back over her, grabbing his boxer shorts, pulling them on and standing up. as much as they wanted to do anything else right now... there was something waiting for them down stairs. and he knew no other way to go about this. "we have to get dressed.

[/color]" he spoke, rather softly at that, and disappeared back into his closet. [/size][/blockquote][/font]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

she couldn't breathe. she literally couldn't breathe at all, and the funny thing was, she was fine with it. she didn't care that she couldn't breathe, didn't care that she was running out of air and becoming dizzy and slightly nauseous. she was still on her high, the natural high that sex gave to anyone. still encased in her own little bubble, refusing to come out for anyone and anything. she was so damn close to him. she didn't think she could get much closer. she honestly didn't. she was arching up, he was pushing down, they were both climaxing at exactly the same time .. this hadn't happened for .. months. almost a year. an age ago. it had been far too fucking long since they'd last done this. far too fucking long since they'd been together long enough to get the chance. she'd hardly even heard from him in months, except for the occasional 'did you get your money?' and 'is he alright?', though that didn't pass for communication. that was barely even interest. he'd only asked because he'd been forced to. so why was .. today so different? why had everything changed today? she hadn't done anything especially out of the ordinary today; she'd done everything like normal. woken up at eight, eaten breakfast, taken her son off her mother, tended to him for a bit .. the only thing different about her day today was the trip to the mall. the need to get out of the house. on a normal weekend she was usually holed up in her room with george. she didn't need to get out of the house because she generally didn't feel cooped up. she stayed at home because she wanted to. she didn't exactly have any place else to go.

she'd closed her eyes, and she still had them closed now, lips still pressed against cal's as she felt the high fade, fighting the almost desperate urge to bring it back, to move herself against cal in a way that she knew he'd respond to. she's pretty perceptive; she's picked up a few things from a certain mister rice. she almost moved forwards the moment his lips pulled away from hers, but instead chose to take the opportunity to breathe, to pull much needed air into her oxygen starved lungs. she opened her eyes slightly, keeping them half-closed, giving her a languid, lazy look, feeling her breath hitch and catch in her throat and her chest heave as she almost choked herself on air. kissing cal until she almost suffocated was all well and good, but it didn't half hurt afterwards. she was breathing so hard she was about five seconds from coughing. she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her head was spinning, and she could feel the heat radiating off of cal hovering above her, almost but not quite touching. she didn't want to move, she didn't want to emerge out of her bubble. she wanted to stay here all night and do that over and over again, until it felt normal, until she didn't feel like an inexperienced virgin every time she did it. she wondered if cal knew that that was how he made her feel, if he knew that every time the pair had sex, she immediately started worrying that she wasn't good enough, that she wasn't his type, that she wouldn't be able to do it. she didn't think she'd ever really change, not in that aspect. no matter how many times she had it, she didn't think she'd ever think herself better at sex. she'd always have that niggling sensation in the back of her mind telling her that she wasn't good enough, that she was making a fool of herself.

she'd never been overly confident; she was a shy person. public speaking and the like had been the stuff of nightmares for elliot. talking in front of a huge crowd would be the end of her. she simply wouldn't be able to do it. she couldn't deal with every single person's attention in the room on her. she could deal with one or two, three at the very most, but more than that, she couldn't handle. she started stuttering, shaking, chewing her lip anxiously which was the tell-tale sign that she was nervous. sex .. was a weak spot .. because .. she didn't get it often. she hadn't had it since she'd last been with cal. she'd only ever had it with cal. she was a one guy kind of girl. she didn't sleep around because she just wasn't like that. she didn't go around offering sex to people because she'd be scared shitless that they'd refuse, knock her down, or that they'd accept and she'd do it and the next day at school, it would be all over the place. rumours about her flying everywhere. up until she'd been pregnant with george, she'd been pretty low on the gossip radar. as soon as word got out that she was pregnant with callum rice's baby, all she ever heard in the hallways was 'ellie casey this,' 'ellie casey that' and so on. it was never ending. the only reason she'd gotten pregnant last time was because .. of a lack of protection. that was the main and only reason. no protection. george was unplanned. who would plan to impregnate someone at fifteen? who would plan to have a child in their sophomore year? elliot couldn't name anybody. but she knew she'd never take him back.

she was just lying there, breathing, trying to acclimatise back to acting normally, trying to appear as though nothing had happened. ted and pierre wouldn't know, would they? they couldn't. they'd been quiet. there was no way they could know. besides, they thought she was in the bathroom. no. they wouldn't know at all. she tilted her head to the side at the lips on her neck, almost wishing she wasn't here for a dinner, wishing that there wasn't george to consider, wishing that she could just stay here and not have to emerge until hours later. she slowly unwound her arms as he pulled away, opening her eyes fully and training them on her dress, pushing herself up onto her elbows and knowing she had to put it on. she had to put the ridiculously expensive dress on and she had to go downstairs and pretend nothing happened. there was no escaping it. cal had invited her for a dinner and ordered his fathers to make said dinner. there was no getting around it. she had to do it. no if's, but's or and's about it. it had to be done whether she liked it or not. she looked at him as he stood up, half listening to him and half wondering whether she could just .. hide under his bed and make him thing that she'd gone downstairs. she chewed at her lip as he spoke, eyes watching him until he disappeared out of her sight. she let herself fall back flat on her back once she knew she wasn't being watched, and ran her fingers shakily through her hair, staring up at the ceiling yet again. she wasn't sure how long she did that for. she lost track. she hadn't really been sure of the time since she'd walked up the stairs.

she shuffled towards the edge of the bed and padded over to her dress, pulling it close to her and covering herself with it whilst she scampered back over to cal's bed. despite .. just sleeping with cal, she was still a very self-conscious individual. she always had been. she didn't particularly like being looked at whilst getting dressed. she picked her UNDERGARMENTS back up and wriggled into them, before looking around warily, and pulling the dress away from her chest to stare at it, taking in the turquoise stitching and lace hem and .. all of it. it was .. beautiful. far too much. at least for someone like her. did she even suit black dresses? she pulled the zipper down and stepped into the dress, holding her hair out of the way as she zipped herself in, and started looking for her shoes. she hated that she hadn't brought shoes to at least semi match the dress. converse .. didn't quite cut it, even if they were the same colour. she bounced lightly on her feet a few times to check her dress wasn't going to fall, shoved her feet into her converse, flicked her hair out a few times, looked around warily yet again, and padded towards the door, twisting the handle at least three times before realising that it was locked. she had no doubt she'd be laughed at right now if cal could actually see her. or maybe he could see her, she didn't know. he could have mirrors placed strategically in his closet. she hadn't been in there in a year; things could have changed drastically.

biting her tongue, elliot slipped out through the door, letting it close softly before heading towards the stairs, keeping two fingers crossed unconsciously in the hope that she wouldn't be found out. she tripped over the doorframe to the kitchen, her usual clumsy self, and then hugged herself awkwardly, brown eyes widening at the sight of cal's dads staring right at her.

always the graceful one. .. oh, look who's here ted.

she felt her cheeks burn at the mumble, and then jumped about a mile at the next outburst.

ELLIOOOTTTT.

took your time.

elliot's eyes widened even more, if that were at all possible, and she blinked more times than was necessary, licking at her bottom lip and staring at one of the floor tiles fixately. they knew. oh, dear god, they knew. "i .. i .. i don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled quickly, fingers pleating the hem of her skirt anxiously. she was such a bad liar.

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
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it didn't seem one bit fair. they ought to have more time. as if time should just... stop. or every one else should just stop. for them. because they deserved more time. or maybe that was just callum begging. begging because he hadn't used all the time he had been given and therefore was a bit cranky when the time left wasn't enough. dammit. he'd had so much fucking time. how long had it been now? over a year? who fucking knew. you'd think he'd be able to remember by now. or at least keep track. all he knew was that he'd wasted it all. no, he couldn't have just given in and given it all to her. he had to be callum rice. he had to sleep around. he had to drink himself sick. he had to smoke multiple packs a week. he had to be a complete and total ass hole. and now here they were, stealing seven minutes in his bedroom with his dad’s downstairs. not exactly his idea of seven minutes in heaven, given had that been the case this was an extraordinarily large closet and that was extraordinary seven minutes. he had to be completely insane. entirely mental. he was simply taking what he could get and in return hurting her. not that… he was physically hurting her, but you get the point. this was bad for her. callum was messing with her mind. he himself didn’t even know if he’d decide to stick with her after this night; after that. he had no idea. already during this meeting of sorts he’d changed his mind eight or nine times. this was bad for her, but maybe he could change. maybe they didn’t belong together, maybe they could if he tried. maybe he was just a complete and total fuck up, had he ever even considered that?

and here he had screwed himself over once again. his mind was completely and totally on elliot at this point at this point. he could hardly keep himself on a straight path walking away from the bed and towards the closet. there was no doubt in his mind that he was suffering from some sort of severe mental illness. a sickness if you will. of course he had an addiction to many things. amongst them alcohol, drugs and... sex. once he'd gotten a taste of it he couldn't give it up. he wanted nothing more than to turn right back around and forget that he had plans for the night. and for multiple nights there after. maybe he was sick. maybe he was mentally ill. or maybe it was just elliot. maybe he just wanted her. that made a hell of a lot more sense than labeling himself mentally ill. he'd hardly slept with anyone else since they'd split. at least, not as before. the numbers began decreasing when they'd first started out together and had been on a steady slope since. yeah, that made a shit ton more sense. it was elliot that did this to him. elliot that made want to come back for more... and more... and more. non stop. she was addicting to say the least. he couldn't get enough. it was never enough. ahh the inner workings of callum rice. never saw this side much did you? never really thought that he'd be the one left wanting, left on strain. goddammit you'd think he'd go for something in the acting business. lord knows he's quite the little actor. more like faker. or liar.

he was trying not to pay attention. or... trying not to let himself. any noise he heard, or would hear, coming from back inside his bedroom he ignored. or, again, tried to, at the least. the goal right now was to get dressed, completely, without turning around and going back into the room. without stopping or listening out for her. without doing a multitude of things that would get her and him in shit tons of trouble. or, more likely, just her. what was the worst her father could do to him if he found out about this? get a restraining order? it wasn't like elliot would listen to that. not that this was a positive thing he spoke of, but callum quite literally had the girl wrapped around his finger. she was his at least in the sense that he could quite possibly get her to do anything he wanted. of course he wasn't that bad. she'd had some control this afternoon. he hadn't intended on having sex with he before having dinner with her but she'd made that one quite possible. whether she knew she'd done it or not. bottom line was, she had. and therefore he was trying to eliminate all encounters with her from this point now to them being downstairs in plain site of pierre and ted. no fucking way he'd pull anything there. at least he figured as much. and since it was a noise and severely piqued curiousity that brought him out of the closet in the first place, the best choice was to throw himself into the situation at hand--getting dressed--and completely ignore any and all noises coming from his room. including the turning of his door handle multiple times. give him a break, he said he was trying not succeeding.

as soon as he felt she was out of the room he relaxed a bit, if for only a moment, before realizing he didn't want her downstairs alone with his dad's. immediately he made his choices, a dressed shirt he thought might match elliot's dress and matching pants. belt? screw the belt. a pair of socks he wasn't even sure matched--imagine that callum rice not paying much attention to what he put on--and a pair of shoes. what ever. he just wanted to get down stairs. protect her from what ever the hell his dad's might say. yes, he knew they wouldn't full out say anything. but they would insinuate. or at least theodore would. despite all of pierre's best efforts, that was just who he was. out of the closet, through his bed room door, across the landing and down the stairs in a matter of moments he cued into the conversation like a pro, it's not like his father's were at all conscious of their level of volume. they were, after all, in their own house. callum found himself coming up right behind elliot just as theodore made his first, no doubt of many, comments to her. "took your time." cal shot pierre something of a warning glance before giving the same look to theodore. his hand fell right in place at the small of her back, habit--despite his plan to keep away during dinner--and he retorted for her, amidst her nervous ramblings, "she wasn't sure about the dress,

[/color]" bull shit answer. but hopefully enough to ease elliot and make his dad's back the fuck off. "i think it's fine.[/color]" he allowed himself a glance down at her before looking back up to an approaching pierre. "callum, it's gorgeous. i thought you'd at least chose your words better than that." he caught sight of a wink from theodore before having george thrust into his arms.

"why don't you hold your son," and he made sure callum did just that, "while ellie and i set the table." before turning to elliot and pulling on her forearm. in the meantime callum looked down slowly at george in his arms. had he held him yet? he couldn't remember. but he felt so light. and callum liked that. he liked how he was so small, his fingers, his hands, his nails. everything, it was so damn small. casting one more wary glance up at elliot he adjusted his grip on his son before stepping over to theodore who seemed to be just tasting everything one last time. "do you mind keeping your comments to yourself?[/color]" he muttered, wary of ellie and pierre across the room. callum, i'm just having a little fun," was all he responded with before returning his attention to the food below. this was going to be a long dinner.[/size][/blockquote][/font]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

they knew. elliot knew they knew. they knew that elliot knew that they knew. how could they not know? it was obvious. it had to be. ted had made it obvious that it was obvious. they hadn't been quiet enough. hadn't been subtle enough. hadn't kept it to themselves as much as they could have done. they knew, and elliot hated it. elliot didn't think it was quite possible for someone to blush half as much as she was right that minute. ted's comment was running around her head, echoing in an endless loop, repeating itself over and over again. took your time, took your time, took your time. if elliot had been able to think, she'd have retorted, said something about not being able to find .. something. something that didn't sound quite as transparent as 'i don't know what you're talking about'. that had to be one of the lamest excuses in the world. it wasn't even an excuse; it was elliot trying to avoid the conversation. trying to act as though what had just happened between herself and cal hadn't even happened. nothing had gone on upstairs at all. nothing whatsoever. they could think what they wanted because they were wrong. nothing had happened. she was still pleating folds into her skirt nervously, eyes wide and barely even breathing as she fought to find something to say, something that would change the subject and take the attention off her. she didn't deal well with being in the spotlight. didn't like attention at the best of times unless it was from the right person. pierre and ted looking at her and insinuating that they knew she'd just slept with their son ( forget insinuating; they did know, end of ) was more than elliot could handle. she took a step back, aiming to back out of the kitchen and to keep going until she got to the front door and then bolt out of it before they could tell her to stop. but she couldn't. there was someone behind her. someone whom she'd just spent most of the day with. someone who could pretty much control her with one single touch. she stopped pleating and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously, looking over her shoulder and blinking at cal. she was leaning into his hand without even realising it. habit.

"she wasn't sure about the dress. i think it's fine."

she bit her lip at cal's answer and looked back down at the tiled floor, blocking out pierre's answer and mumbling something resembling a thank you. she was calming down now that she wasn't down here on her own, now that she didn't have to face cal's dads without him. she found herself looking back up at cal automatically. she wasn’t even thinking about it. she was just .. looking. she caught him looking back at her and for a moment, couldn’t do anything. simply stared at him for however long he looked at her. she didn’t even care whether ted and pierre were looking right now; she was just staring. then he looked away and her son was pressed into cal’s arms, and elliot frowned, looking down at george and biting her lip yet again. george. her son. the only person – bar cal – that she would actually do anything for. it didn’t matter what. she’d do it with no questions asked, because that was simply the type of girl she was. she couldn’t help but feel the twist in her stomach at the sight of cal and george together. couldn’t stop the natural motherly instinct that made her want to cuddle her own son, but also couldn’t help how much she liked – loved, even – seeing cal and george together. like they should be. like they should have been from day one. cal shouldn’t have stayed away; her father shouldn’t have made her stay away from him. why was elliot even worried about him? what was he going to do to her, really? if he ever found out that she’d been lying about going out with alice, what could he actually do? ground her and refuse to let her go out? elliot hardly ever went out as it was. she went to school and came home, simple as. she had to look after george. would he send her away? she’d like to see him try. going away was one thing that elliot would not tolerate. she wasn’t going anywhere without george, or cal. and even if she was forced to live somewhere else, she’d get back. she would. she didn’t know how, but she’d do it.

.. whilst ellie and i set the table.

elliot snapped her attention back to pierre, dragging her eyes away from her son and from cal, and blinked at him fearfully, eyes already wider than she thought humanly possible. “i-i .. wh-what? i mean .. p-pardon? p-pierre, really, i-

[/color]” elliot protested for a short while, pulling against the grip on her arm but eventually gave in, stumbling after the older man and looking over her shoulder one last time, hoping to catch cal’s eye, but instead finding cal completely entranced by his son. she tripped over her own feet slightly again and focussed her attention back to where pierre was taking her, flexing her wrist in his grip. “p-pierre .. i’m all for helping out .. but you don’t .. have to pull me.” she mumbled, tucking a lock of dark brown, curly hair back behind her ear with her free hand, half expecting pierre to ignore her. she wasn’t disappointed. she was dragged over to the cabinet full of dinner plates and given a stack of four, and carefully turned around, and steered back over to the table. she knew she was clumsy, but this was ridiculous. surely elliot could manage to walk ten steps without tripping over herself. she placed the plates where pierre instructed, occasionally nodding or shaking her head in answer to his questions, smoothing her hair down as much as she could between tasks. she had to place the cutlery in just the correct place, the wine glasses, the champagne flutes ( she had the distinct impression pierre was going slightly overboard ), and then she had to lift everything back up after she was instructed to place placemats underneath everything.

elliot?

she looked up at pierre, half expecting a comment about why she hadn’t been over in so long or why she never called anymore, or even why she and cal had taken so long upstairs ( which immediately prompted yet another blush ). she let her hands rest lightly on the back of a chair and stared at cal’s dad, half wondering whether agreeing to this had been such a good idea. she blinked at him yet again – she tended to do a lot of blinking – and chewed at her lip, ducking her head back down to tug at one of the bracelets on her wrist. “mm?” she murmured, tugging incessantly, mind half on the three men behind her in the kitchen. she wanted to hug george and/or cal so much right now it wasn’t even funny. i’m glad you’re back. elliot blinked again and licked at her lips nervously, staring at her wrist intently as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. “i .. well, i .. i don’t think .. i’m not .. that is to say .. i’m not .. back .. not really.[/color]” she chanced a glance back up at the older man and then over her shoulder, eyebrows rising as she caught cal looking back at her. “it’s .. up to him .. really ..” she turned back to pierre and started fiddling with the placemat in front of her, trying to disguise the fact that her heart had already jumped in pace simply from one look from cal. he had so much control over her and she couldn’t even do anything about it. you’re good for him. i hope you know that. she kept fiddling, purposefully avoiding eye contact for as long as she possibly could. “what ..[/color]” she broke off and looked over her shoulder again, briefly, before turning back. “what's good for him and what he wants .. don’t .. aren’t necessarily the same. i’ll .. just take what i get.[/color]”

elliot! did you have fun?

elliot jumped as ted loomed up behind her, and spun around, holding onto the back of the chair with both hands. she blinked in surprise, and then immediately started analysing his question. what did he mean, ‘did she have fun?’. when did he mean? did he mean now? all she’d been doing was laying the table; there wasn’t really an opportunity for her to have fun. she’d just been talking with pierre and putting glasses on the table that didn’t even need to be there – pierre had definitely gone overboard with the place settings. or did he mean earlier, when she and cal had disappeared off upstairs together? well, not together. elliot hadn’t gone upstairs with the intention of cal following her. she hadn’t gone into his room for anything other than a quick look around. that was what he meant. it had to be. she opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying her hardest to think of something to say, gripping the chair behind her so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. tonight was going to take a while.[/blockquote][/size][/center]

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

it wasn't like callum didn't like theodore. that wasn't it at all. but he was no pierre. the two was completely different. which was understandable. who wanted to be stuck with a carbon copy of themself for the rest of their life? obviously callum was big on following that train of thought but theodore was just like the father in thier little situation. it was glaringly obvious that pierre had assumed to female's position in this relationship. and ted the male. and they both played their roles with flying colours. ted and callum seemed to bump heads more often than not. don't take that wrong. the two of them never fought. but ted was just a little less susceptible to callum's attitude. he didn't take as much as pierre did from their one and only son. so callum pleading with him to keep his mouth shut wasn't about to get him as far as say, pleading with pierre to do the same. theodore would push callum's buttons. pierre would find them and steer clear. so this... conversation, callum knew, would get him no where. he bit his lip in frustration glancing down at his son and then over at elliot and pierre, catching her eye for the briefest of moments. he trusted pierre with ellie. they seemed to be getting on just fine. as per usual. ellie the nervous wreck he simply knew she'd be after they'd done exactly what just happened upstairs and pierre going on and on and on about who knew what. frustrated, cal shifted george once more in his grasp and turned his attention to theodore, who was just about ready to start bringing whatever he'd prepared over to the table.

"ok, you've had your fun. just leave her alone now. it's it obvious that she's a litt--"

"oh relax, i'm just poking fun. the girl needs to loosen up a bit, that's all."

dear god, that was enough to make him strangle his own father.

"how do you even know we--" he was immediately cut off by a obvious 'oh please' look and finally just one word, "callum." right. like callum rice would go up to his room alone with a girl and his father's could expect nothing to happen. he might hate to phrase it this way but it was true, callum was a true blue whore. no matter how you wanted to spin it. not to mention the two of them raised him. so it wasn't like he could slip too much past them. they found out that he'd started smoking the day he'd first tried it. and he'd thought he'd gone through all the steps towards preventing being found out. they were a wary couple, pierre and ted. you couldn't slip much past them. no matter how quiet you could make having sex. they'd know. they always did. by the time callum finally clued back into the situation ted was speaking again, "how much was that shirt?" he asked, a finger to his lips as if to say shhhhh. immediately figures started popping up in his mind. how the hell was he supposed to know? he hardly looked at the tags as it was. how was he supposed to remember how much one of his several shirts was? ted's question was followed by a shrug as callum began mumbling incoherent numbers and finally ted spoke up, "well now you've got priceless baby drool on it." that got his attention. callum looked down and sure enough george was, quite literally, nomming on his shirt. he groaned, softly, glanced up in a sort of panick as he caught theodore walking back through the kitchen to elliot and pierre.

"dammit

[/color]," he muttered moving to the counter and setting george down. his eyes widened momentarily as he looked down at his son, trying to make eye contact, "don't... we don't say that word. don't say that. ok?[/color]" goddamn he felt like an idiot. talking to a baby. callum nodded, more to himself than to his son. as if to say, 'right, i am talking to a child.' but that was supposed to help right? help speed up the... learning process? if you talked to them they learned their vocabulary quicker or something? just wonderful. he didn't need his son speaking like he did. or... acting like he did. he might as well set him up for success now and just teach him to everything he wasn't. if... he was going to be around for the whole 'teaching thing'. he hoped so. if we were going to be completely honest right now, callum really hoped so. but he still... wasn't sure how all of this would work out. he kept one hand wrapped around george as the other fished for a napkin out of the display on the counter and wiped aimlessly at his shirt. he'd probably have to get used to this wouldn't he. great. he'd have to choose his clothing a little more carefully. scooping up his son he started over towards the waste basket just as theodore's voice boomed from the other room, "elliot! did you have fun?"

"fuck." this job was never ending. "shit, don't say that either. wait... don't say... just don't talk like...[/color]" he made a growl-esque sound in frustration and quickly made his way back into the other room. had i said this would be a long dinner? this would be a long night. the longest night. of his fucking life. it was like torture. having to deal with elliot in the room. his son was just... there were a hell of a lot of things he needed to make sure didn't happen around him--fuck he didn't even know how to be a dad. and ted wasn't aiding him at all with this. perhaps this hadn't been one of his best ideas. cal stepped in between elliot and ted, just as he'd assumed the silence from her not responding was getting to be a tad awkward and handed george over to her. "i think he wants you,[/color]" the words came out a tad more meaningful than they probably should have, he made every effort to create eye contact between the two of them, in hopes that it would calm her down. when in reality it would probably do just the opposite and perhaps distract her a bit. after the following silence reached it's preferred time limit he turned around glaring at ted as the man smiled back at him, shaking his head lightly and pierre jumped in right on time. "i'll help you bring everything in," he turned the other man around and shuffled him out down the hall and into the kitchen. cal's gaze followed them gratefully and he returned his attention to elliot, catching her gaze once more. he stepped around her, silently, and pulled a chair out from under the table, "can you eat with him in your lap?[/color]" he nodded meaningfully, gesturing for her to take a seat and cast a wary eye back towards the men in the kitchen. hoping to whatever god there was that pierre was giving theodore a talk.[/size][/blockquote][/font]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

she didn’t know what to say. it was one of those situations where elliot honestly couldn’t speak at all. it was like there was something stopping her from speaking. something stopping her from being able to think in coherent sentences and as a result stopping her from talking like a normal person. she couldn’t quite figure out whether ted’s question had been innocent or not, didn’t quite understand what or when he was talking about. how much fun could she have had simply from laying a table? he had to have meant before. he had to. there were no ifs, buts or ands about it. he meant had she had fun whilst having sex with his son. that was what he meant. she knew it. and she couldn’t answer it. she just couldn’t. it was as though she’d lost her voice; something was stopping her from saying yes or no. stopping her from saying anything. she was staring up at ted, blinking more times than were necessary, silently screaming at herself, at ted, at anyone around her and cursing herself for not backing away out the front door earlier when she had the chance. the french sliding doors weren’t even in this room; she’d have had to have been in the kitchen for there to be any chance of escape. she was trapped, and there was no way out. she couldn’t feel her hands any more, she was gripping onto the chair so hard. ted was watching her expectantly, waiting for a reply, waiting for her to offer him something that he could take in and make sound worse than it did. she was just staring at him, eyes as wide as a deer’s in headlights, all sorts of things running through her mind but she couldn’t say one of them. she just couldn’t bring herself to speak. couldn’t find it within herself to say something. there was a part of her that realised she was just answering his question by not answering it at all, but even that couldn’t motivate her to say anything.

"i think he wants you,"

she jumped slightly and breathed in sharply, dragging her eyes away from ted’s to focus on cal’s, before her attention swiftly moved to her son. her arms wrapped themselves instinctively around george and she fiddled with his hair, the blood rushing back to her hands so quickly it was giving her pins and needles. she pressed a kiss to george’s head and looked back up at cal, her mind going completely and blissfully blank yet again as she caught his gaze, feeling calmer and distracted at exactly the same time. she hadn’t even thought that were possible. it didn’t sound it. how could you be calm and distracted at exactly the same time? the situation hadn’t changed, the context was still the same, ted was still standing right there and for all she knew, still expecting and waiting on an answer. cal always seemed to have this effect on her. always seemed to be able to calm her down and distract her and get her to do what he wanted just with a look. it didn’t matter whatever previous thoughts she may have had; if he gave her the right look, she’d do it, no questions asked. she blinked again, and then transferred her attention back down to her son, ignoring cal and ted and pierre and just focusing on the small three month old child in her arms. she still couldn’t quite get her head around it sometimes. didn’t quite get that she was a mother and george was her son. her child. her responsibility. she was only sixteen; she wasn’t supposed to have responsibility right now. she was supposed to be a normal teenager; going out every weekend with her friends, staying out until all hours of the night just doing absolutely fuck all, getting drunk, trying new things .. although .. elliot had never really been like that. she’d been the kind of girl who enjoyed curling up in her armchair with a tub of bohemian raspberry and a new philippa gregory book and a cat or two on a friday night. she’d never really been into the party scene. she’d never really known many people who’d invite her. she didn’t really drink - apart from when her dad annoyed her or they had an argument and elliot just wanted to do something that would get back at him. she was just .. normal, according to her, at least.

she didn’t think she’d ever be able to get over it. she’d always be slightly in awe of him. she’d never quite believe that he was his and she’d made him and had him and .. she was his mother. she didn’t even look like his mother. george looked so much like cal it was unreal. it didn’t matter how much he denied it. how often he said no and that he looked like ellie, elliot knew george was more like his father. denial wasn’t going to do anything to change that. she knew cal didn’t think he’d be any good as a father. she knew that he was worried he’d fuck up and be like his own father. elliot was probably the only person – other than his dads – that knew about cal’s real father. and she’d never told anybody. when elliot said she’d keep it to herself, she honestly did keep it to herself. she didn’t tell a soul. she took it with her to the grave, regardless of who asked her to tell or what they did to her to get her to spill the beans. she was now completely ignoring ted and pierre, and the fact that she hadn’t answered ted’s question was barely even relevant to her right now. she didn’t care. she didn’t care whether they knew or whether she’d pretty much just answered his question by not answering. she had george, and that was all that mattered. he was so small. you forget that someone barely even a foot tall can end up growing into someone taller than you. elliot wasn’t tall. she knew her son was going to outgrow her. everyone she knew was taller than her. his fingernails and hands and arms and legs and toes and fingers were all so tiny. she almost didn’t want him to grow, didn’t want him to be any bigger than he was right now. wanted him to stay the same so she wouldn’t have to deal with him growing up and him leaving like cal had. but that .. was almost twenty years away. she had plenty of time to deal with that.

she barely looked up as pierre steered ted from the room, and kept her attention instead on george, leaning against the chair she’d been gripping for dear life, giving her son a finger and biting her lip slightly as his chubby mini fingers curled around it. she flicked her gaze back up to cal’s and felt her stomach twist pleasurably again, looking at him and chewing at her lip. she watched as he stepped around her, not taking her eyes off him for a single second, keeping george as close to her as she could without hurting him. he still had tight hold of her finger. she didn’t move when he pulled the chair out. she was still rooted to the spot, leaning against the chair she probably would have ruined had she held onto it any longer – elliot had one hell of a grip, not gonna lie. she stared at him, still blinking more times than she needed to, and licked at her lips, half deliberately, half because she still honestly couldn’t think what to say. she eventually took a deep breath in and pulled george higher up on her hip, pulling her finger away from him gently and placing it behind his neck for support. she was far too overprotective for it to be healthy. she tilted her head to the side just a bit as he spoke and tore her eyes away from his for a second to look at the chair, before snapping them back up to cal’s. staring at him probably wasn’t her best idea; if she kept that up throughout the meal then she’d be subjected to a million comments about herself and cal. most likely from ted; pierre wasn’t like ted at all. she took a step towards cal slowly, then another, and another, until she was standing right in front of him, so close she was almost touching. she didn’t know what she was doing. her own little game? seeing how far she could push him before he’d crack? she tilted her head back to look at him and licked at her lips again, moving as though to step closer to him. “i’m .. sure i’ll manage,” she murmured, a small smile – almost a smirk – playing about on her lips. she lowered herself abruptly into her chair, and placed george on her knee, waiting patiently.

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

no lies at all? callum loved watching ellie with their son. yes, their son. she seemed so different. it was almost surreal. like how he felt when he held george. he couldn't fucking believe that he'd made that. it was insane. that something so small, so adorable, so tiny and alive. something that looked freakishly like the both of them... came from them. it was crazy. just the idea. the idea of birth. of creating a new life. it left him confused. how something he regarded as fun, something he took for granted, something he did with any fucking person he could get his hands on could end up in this... gift. forgive him for getting all soft but that was how he felt. it was almost scary to think about. what if... he'd gotten someone else pregnant? what if that person had not been elliot. he would've never met her... would he? he wanted to believe that he would be the same if he'd had a child with someone else, that he'd treasure it, that he'd want to be there for it and it's mother as well. but he couldn't quite bring himself to okay that feeling. to assure himself that he would, indeed, be there for any child of his. this child was different. forgive me, george was different. he was theirs. more precisely, he was elliot's. he contained something from the both of them. together. george was the closest callum could get to being with elliot. inseparably. forever. he was it. he was the closets. he might not be able to staple gun himself to her but they were both in george. the two of them. together. if that made any sense at all. with george callum would never leave elliot. god, what even brought him to think this in the first place.

when he watched elliot hold george, when he watched elliot look at george, it was like those feelings of his were being nabbed from his mind. like those words were being acted out. it was surreal. almost ethereal. not of this world. how ever you wanted to phrase it. she was different. she wasn't panicking as a result of assaults from his father's, pierre and theodore, she wasn't all worked up or frustrated as a result of his incessant teasing. she was just... there. she was almost content. and if he stared at her any harder he figured there would be a hole burnt into her forehead. but she just looked back at him. stared, more like it. this would be a one way ticket to 'embarrassment from ted rice' if he'd been in the room. but that were granted with just that moment or two of silence. of peace. this... had to be one of their softer moments. he breathed steadily, now wondering whether or not she'd actually answer his question. he'd left so much up in the air this afternoon that he wouldn't be too surprised if his inquiry was left unanswered. but he was curious. could she tackle holding george in her lap, whilst eating and receiving copious amounts of bold jests from his dad? but... the only answer he got was something he didn't except. to be quite honest he was a tad set off by it. she was moving towards him, that much he could tell. but why or how much he was unaware. all he knew was that in the span of a few seconds he was back in the bedroom. at least in his mind. he wanted to be. physically. alone with her in his bedroom again. door locked. no baby, just for a little bit, if at all. she slowly looked up at him and he even tilted his head to the side minutely, as if expecting her to push up on her tip toes, wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. but she left him cold, saying something about managing and dropping out of his sight.

he remained frozen for a few moments, all he saw was the space she had been just a few milliseconds previous but had now disappeared from. quite immediately at that. what... the fuck was that? he blinked once before a loud clang from the kitchen snapped him out of it. immediately his attention snapped towards the two men coming towards them and he moved around her and slowly sat down in the closest seat. "you are in for a treat miss ellie. ted cooks the best..." he... couldn't even pay attention. the only thought running through his mind was, 'what... the fuck.'

---------------- oh look, time lapse ----------------

the dinner wasn't nearly as terrible as he expected. as far as trying to 'protect' ellie from his own fathers words or any conversation he may deem difficult or trying for her. if he said anything, which he only caught some things here and there, ellie hardly seemed phased. it was that baby thing again. she seemed engulfed in his care. and... callum himself. she gave him a fair amount of attention. which, again what the fuck. he didn't get it. if she was intentionally driving him crazy or if he just wanted her that much that everything she did seemed like a pass to him. he honestly should not have had sex with her upstairs before this meal. he couldn't fucking iron his thoughts out. they were trained on her the entire time. not even properly on george. not on the conversation. nothing. and he was reaping painful results from it. literally. if she was making passes at him that would be all the more reason for him to be concerned. she was so odd today, or, more notably, right now. he was infatuated, confused, turned on, anything he shouldn't be whilst having a meal. and he purposefully took meager portions just in case. not that his parents would be concerned, callum hardly ate as it was. not a normal teenage boy at all. he didn't stuff his face with everything he came into contact with. pierre seemed thrilled over all. which was probably one of the most normal thoughts he'd thought throughout this entire meal. pierre genuinely liked elliot. no surprise there. she was genuinely likable.

it was getting to be that time. time to wind down. time to clear the table, gather by the front door say goodbye and drive her home. but he honestly didn't want to. he didn't want to say goodbye. he didn't want her to lock herself in his bathroom, change, hand him the dress and call it a night. like, it was great knowing you my dad's going to kill me after this bye. he didn't want to leave her at his house. her dad's, that is. fucking douche. and she'd gotten him so worked up... she had to stay. again, probably another terrible idea. but at least he could convince his dad's she was staying in the guest room. then they could lay off. and if he approached it right maybe he could get her to stay. this seemed far too desperate for callum rice. honestly. what. the. fuck. theme for this evening, ladies and gentlemen. callum had been sitting back in his chair, exchanging glances with elliot for the past few moments and eventually pierre caught on, "we'll clear the table," he hinted, meaningfully at his husband. "that's your cue," ted grinned, winking at elliot, to which callum glared. but once they were successfully out of hearing range he brought it upon himself to make her decide to stay. their chairs were close enough as it was, he simply turned himself in his seat, sitting on the edge of it and leaned in. "stay,

[/color]" he whispered his lips close to her ear and then lightly brushing the skin down her neck. perhaps this type of persuasion wasn't necessary. but who said he was trying to persuade her. in all honesty he just wanted to be close. he continued, softly, with a small hint of need in his inflection, his hand on the back of her neck, "the night.[/color]"[/size][/blockquote][/font]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

she didn’t know what she was doing. she had no clue whatsoever, yet she was carrying on anyway. this wasn’t something elliot did on a daily basis; she barely even received it on a day-to-day basis. elliot was new at this, the whole teasing business. she didn’t even know if what she was doing was working. for all she knew, she was just making a fool of herself and cal would corner her later and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, which was a question elliot had no answer for, because she simply didn’t know. she didn’t know if she was being subtle or if she was being completely transparent – though she figured that if what she was doing was see through, she’d have been told by now; ted didn’t exactly keep his mouth shut about things like that. she just knew that it was fun. she hadn’t realised just how much fun it really was. she was always teased, never the teaser. it made a change. though, elliot’s idea of teasing someone consisted of brushing her arm against theirs more times than she really needed to, or dropping her fork ‘accidentally’ and having to reach down and press herself into their side. it was just simple things. just .. touching. she wasn’t doing anything .. outright .. she was just .. ‘accidentally’ touching him. and if it was making her feel happy and good, then why shouldn’t she continue? just .. carry on with what she was doing, even though she had no idea how to. she’d never done it before. she’d never had need to. she didn’t even know what had made her want to do it. it was one of those .. split second decisions, she figured. if she didn’t do it now, she might never have done it. she was still the same, normal elliot who got embarrassed at everything ted said to her – considering what ted was saying always had undertones of his knowing about her and cal’s sleeping together before dinner, it’s not surprising elliot was embarrassed.

having george on her knee and trying to eat a meal at the same time wasn’t one of the easiest tasks in the world, and as a result, elliot didn’t eat much, which then sparked the guilty response that they’d cooked all this amazing food for her and she didn’t even have the courtesy to eat it. though, in all fairness, elliot didn’t eat a lot of food to begin with. she was one of those girls who would think they were hungry one minute, but have forgotten about it by the next. she missed several meals simply because she forgot that she was hungry. when she’d been pregnant, however, she hadn’t been allowed to get away with that. it had been just another way for her father to control her; he knew about her issues with food so he designated himself her controller. he controlled what she ate, when she ate and how much she ate. he’d loved it. elliot, on the other hand, couldn’t stand it. she didn’t like being told what to eat and when to eat and how much she had to eat before she could leave the table. she’d been a fifteen year old girl; no one wants to be treated like that at fifteen. if anything, it had made her even more determined to rebel against him after george was born. part of the reason why she didn’t eat much was because she was trying to get back at her father, and partly because she honestly didn’t like food. she concentrated on feeding george – she’d excused herself from the table not long after ted and pierre had sat down to fetch a bottle for george from his bag – and on .. doing what she was doing. which was teasing cal. she hoped. god, she didn’t know what she was doing. she could only hope to god that whatever she was doing was right. she blushed and hid behind her hair at ted’s comments, running her fingers through the mass of curls and hoping to god she didn’t have what alice would have called sex hair. a bit late to be wishing something like that, but she was wishing it nonetheless.

honestly, she didn’t want to leave at the end of the night. she liked being somewhere other than her own house for a change, she liked that she didn’t have to deal with the drama and the arguments and the tears – mainly hers – with her father, she liked that she didn’t have to abide by mr. casey’s rules and that she could do pretty much anything she wanted. he wasn’t going to find out where she’d been and he wasn’t going to be able to punish or hurt her for it. this was entirely her doing and nothing her father could say could make her stop it. she didn’t want to thank ted and pierre rice for a lovely evening and go upstairs to change, she didn’t want to take the dress off and have callum hide it for her, she didn’t want to pull her skinnies back on and have cal drive her home – speaking of, her four by four was still in the mall parking lot; she’d have a parking ticking by now, with her luck. she just didn’t want to leave. she liked that she wasn’t at home, that she was out, that she was with cal and she was touching him and speaking to him and near him and just .. she liked him. she knew she shouldn’t. she’d been told by many people – himself included – that she shouldn’t like him. that she should just walk away before she got hurt. elliot refused to listen to people though. she didn’t care if he’d hurt her once; it wasn’t like she had a switch inside her somewhere that she could flick off and she’d immediately stop caring about him. it didn’t work like that. she rested her chin on george’s head lightly and blinked at pierre, listening to his latest question, shaking her head or nodding depending on her answer. she could feel him staring at her. cal. she knew he was looking at her and she felt .. almost smug. she liked that she’d elicited that reaction. god knew she’d probably never be able to do it again. the whole teasing thing. it just wasn’t her. she flicked her eyes to the side and caught his gaze, crossing her legs under the table, carefully so as not to wake george, who’d fallen asleep not long ago. the small smile came back, and she pulled her gaze away, only for it to return moments later, and then again, and again.

"we'll clear the table. that's your cue,"

elliot tore her eyes away from cal’s yet again to watch ted and pierre getting up, chewing her lip and feeling her cheeks burn at the wink. so they hadn’t been subtle. obviously. elliot was far too inexperienced at this to be subtle. of course the first time she tried it was going to be glaringly obvious. of course they’d notice it. she was biting at the skin of her lip, watching the men pick up the bowls and plates and george’s bottle before leaving the room. before leaving herself and callum alone in the room. together. with george. but still alone. she was leaning back in her chair, slumping slightly, taking advantage of the fact that her father wasn’t here to yell at her for slouching. she took a deep breath in, and flicked her eyes towards cal again, and watched as he leaned towards her, her breath hitching ever so slightly at the feel of his lips on her neck. she always had the same reaction when her neck was concerned .. or maybe it was simply callum. or a mixture of both. she wasn’t sure. her teeth were still tugging at the skin of her lip, trying her hardest to keep her train of thought coherent and not scrambled like they usually went when she was around callum. she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, barely even aware she was doing it, and half-closed her eyes, leaning into callum like she always did. it was like he had some gravitational pull over her; whenever he was around, she had to get closer. she just had to. she let a small smile play about her lips at his question – more a statement than a question – and looked up at the clock, wanting nothing more than to stay. it was too late for her to drive home now anyway; her parents were under the assumption she was driving alice everywhere. “i’ll-” she started, closing her eyes fully at the hand on her neck. “i’ll .. g-give me .. your phone.

[/color]”[/blockquote][/size][/center]

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
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if callum was paying the correct amount of attention he might say that theodore was being exceptionally bad today. did he want to get rid of elliot? don't get cal wrong, he loved his dad. both of them. he'd loved them from the start because they were nothing like his biological father. they were normal. they had a nice big house and lots of food. neither of them smoked. they were sweet and gentle. they liked to do things with him. they didn't make him go get them a beer or find the remote. they never hit him. how could you not love people like that? to be quite honest callum never understood how people complained too much about their parents. certainly mr. casey was an exception. he hated that man. and feared him all the same. callum was constantly afraid that he'd make the wrong move and the old man would pull out a shot gun on him. god, he didn't want to die. that might be contradictory to his lifestyle--at this rate he'd die in his late twenties of lung cancer or heart failure--but it was true all the same. that man was exhausting and pissed him the fuck off. but for elliot he would. that wasn't the point, however, the point was that his own father was borderlining douche himself right now. now, cal liked to think of his father's as wise. but if ted had some hidden agenda behind this he wasn't making it clear. by now callum figured he knew every technique in the book. apparently he was wrong. or maybe his dad was just being a real jerk. if that was the case he'd probably have a talk with pierre later. and then get the cold shoulder from cal. see, everything would work out just fine.

the response he was eliciting from her with his plea was undeniably satisfying. enough to bring the smallest of smirks to his face, tugging lightly on the corner's of his lips. he said not a word, only reveling in the fact that he had her stuttering again. she was tearing him apart in her own way at dinner. having the power back in his hands was certainly satisfying. in multiple ways. smirk still plastered on his face, he reached back into his pocket, thankfully he'd transferred the device there just before leaving his room, and pulled his phone out, setting it gently down on the table. if only just for himself, he leaned just that bit much forward once more and kissed her jaw, tenderly, before leaning back and looking down at his sleeping son in her arms. "here,

[/color]" it was remarkable how quickly he'd gotten used to being around him, wanting to hold him. cal reached out and gently stole george off her, standing up slowly and nodding in the direction of the hallway, "go in the bathroom.[/color]" assuming he could go into the kitchen and calm his dad's down, keep them quiet, was silly all in all. but he'd certainly do the best he could. perhaps just tell them that she was on the phone with her father. that might shut them right up. they knew what he was like. they disliked him as well. theodore even went as far as to say the man sounded like he needed a good fucking. ah, like father, like son. there was that, and then there was simply saying that he was holding a sleeping baby in his arms and therefore they needed to be quiet. whatever she needed. he just didn't want her getting caught.

after suggesting their bathroom as he safe getaway spot to successfully make that phone call, he stepped around her and back into the kitchen, to where a fairly loud ted and pierre were doing dishes. might as well just get this over with then, yes? just tell them right out that she was staying. what exactly was the worst that could happen, aside from a crude comment from theodore? so he stepped into the room enough to make his presence known and pierre made some sort of effort towards letting him know they knew he was there, angling himself towards cal whilst drying a dish. "she's staying the night.[/color]" he made perfect eye contact with pierre before looking warily over at ted, whose shoulders were shaking with the amusement they now held. cal rolled his eyes. pierre, however, spoke first, "you know, callum, he looks so much like you..." what the fuck? of course, pierre's words were cut of by ted's more... over powering voice: "didn't get enough before dinner, did ya?" saw that one coming. that... unnecessary comment deserved a glare. and a glare is what it got. pierre however, gave his husband a shocked look, nudged him in the side and said, quite in disbelief it seemed, "ted!" too damn loud. "come on, you guys, she's on the phone with her dad right now.[/color]" neither of them were listening. ted's shoulder's still shook with amusement. pierre, however, turned towards the other man, hands on his hips and spoke, "theodore you need to leave those kids alone. if you want ellie to stick around you sure as hell aren't acting like it."

to which ted replied, "who said i wanted her to stay?

"TED!" shock. disbelief. horror. they were being so fucking loud. callum shot the hallway an uneasy look, glanced down at his son who he shifted in his grasp and returned his attention to his mother of sorts and the child in a man's body, muttering something along the lines of: "guys, shut the fuck up.[/color]" this was never ending. "aw, pierre, he knows i'm kidding. don't give me that look, baby." god, not now. cal rolled his eyes, sure as fuck that these two were about to get all disgusting right before his eyes. he, however, leaned back against the counter and pulled george up against his chest, resting his own cheek against his son's head. were they always this warm? it was like babies had some little heater below their skin that kept them forever warm. he loved it. even closed his eyes against the warmth. whilst... ted and pierre were... yes, kissing, across the room. pierre muttering shit in french and both of them making lovey dovey ooey gooey noises. god, fuck, stop it already. callum peaked up at them then returned to closing his eyes and holding his son in such a way that he could get the most out of the little ones warmth. " you two are disgusting,[/color]" he muttered, hoping it was loud enough for them to hear. it was pierre who answered first, "look at you, mr. mom." what? then ted, "you sure you wear the pants in that relationship?" what was the even supposed to mean. pierre laughed and he looked up at the too, blank stare the only phrase that could describe his expression. they were standing back to chest, pierre in front. "honey, she had you all through that meal didn't she." if pierre's laugh could be described as a giggle that is what it sounded like right now.

that, deserved a glare.
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PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

she opened her eyes ever so slightly as he moved and pulled his phone out for her, watching him leave the ridiculously expensive piece of technology on the table. she didn’t quite understand how anyone could need a phone that pricey; she knew his phone was rare, and almost one of a kind, and she also knew it cost more than her, marissa’s and rebecca’s trust funds put together. it was ridiculous. she was very aware of how close he was to her, of how he’d managed to simply flip the situation around until it was him in control. she wasn’t the teaser anymore; she was definitely being teased. he was doing it purposefully in order to get her to agree to stay, but when given the choice of staying at the house you used to almost live in and going back home to a father who would no doubt shout and scream at you regardless of whether your son was sleeping or not, it was obvious which one you’d choose. elliot didn’t even need convincing. she would have stayed no matter what he did. her neck stretched up slightly at the kiss on her jaw, giving him more access, almost wishing george wasn’t asleep in her arms so that she could respond properly and react like she normally would. he only kissed her jaw once before pulling away, leaving elliot slightly annoyed, irritated, pissed off, but she tried to hide it as well as she possibly could. she was staying the night; it wasn’t like there wasn’t going to be an opportunity for her to get more, for her to get exactly what she wanted. she watched as her son was plucked gently out of her arms and felt the slight, instantaneous pang of jealousy, the one that made her want to slap cal’s hands and snatch her son back, but one look at him stopped all that. she felt her stomach twist again, and could barely even remember why she was still sitting here. she blinked a few times and watched as he stood up with their son, and shifted her attention towards the phone as soon as he left the room. she picked it up, and scrolled through his address book, looking only to see if her number was still in there. purely for ease and so that she wouldn’t have to key it in. she stopped on the e’s, and scrolled down, half not believing it at the sight of her number. she honestly hadn’t expected him to keep it.

looking up furtively, elliot’s grasp around the phone tightened and she pushed herself up, placing her napkin on the table and turning to follow cal, scurrying through the kitchen whilst both of the older rice’s backs were turned. she avoided all eye contact; if she looked at someone now then she’d never get a hold of herself again, and she needed to sound semi sane for her conversation with her father. she was actually hoping for her mother to pick up, but one swift glance at the clock in the hall told her that there was no point in wishing for that. her mother had to get up at half past six every morning, and it was already past ten pm. no chance that she’d pick up. she was stuck with her dad. or adam, if he was home, though he was slightly more adept at picking up on her lies than her father was; he’d know immediately that she was lying about where she was. she pressed the call button and held the phone to her ear as she dashed through the hallway, sitting down quickly on a stair as someone picked up. she couldn’t help chanting the same thought over and over again, like a mantra, as though thinking ‘please be mom, please be mom, please be mom,’ were going to help. she waited impatiently for the person to say something, holding her breath on the stairs, not even daring to breathe. her eyes suddenly widened as she remembered the caller id on the phone in the hallway – would cal’s number show up? she’d be dead. deader than dead. she’d be so dead she’d practically be a dodo. there would be no more elliot casey; her father would actually drive to the rice’s at half past ten at night to drag her home, and i do mean drag. mr. casey was not the gentlest person in the world.

“well say something, you absolute imbecile. in my day, crank calling was not only a public offence, but it was worth ten lashings with a bel-”

“dad, it’s me .. elliot,” she muttered, cutting him off mid-rant and knowing she was going to get bollocked for it. she always did. her father was more like a dictator than anything else. there were a million rules in the casey household that she had to abide by, regardless of whether she thought they were idiotic or not. no liquids other than water upstairs, no food upstairs, no shoes upstairs, no loud music, no deleting message history, no boys, no girls, no friends over when there was no one responsible home to look after them. she was convinced her father saw her as the six year old she used to be with her hair in pigtails and a minnie mouse-esque dress. he didn’t see her as a sixteen year old girl who knew how to be responsible; he saw her as someone who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘responsibility’ and a complete and utter waste of space. it was horrifying and disgusting and hardly even fair .. but elliot had got used to it. it was hard not to. she knew her father was intimidating. she knew he scared off about ninety per cent of her prospective friends – alice had only stuck around because she and elliot had been friends since birth; same birthday and everything – and that should really teach her that she needed to fear him too, or at least show him that he scared her. she just kept it to herself because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. she strained her ears to hear if there were any sounds coming out of the kitchen, and then focussed her attention back on the phone in her hand, and lack of sound. “d-dad? are you ther-

[/color]”

“where the hell are you?”

“d-didn’t mom say? is she awake? can i speak to her?[/color]”

“no, you can not. you can speak to me and you can answer my damn question. where the hell are you? and what the hell do you think you’re playing at, staying out all night? this is very unlike you, elliot, i demand that you bring yourself and that .. child of yours home this instant. you’ll be lucky if you don’t get grounded for this stunt, young lady. when i was a boy, i never pulled anything like this. you get in your car right now and you come straight home, d’you hear me? answer me.”

elliot had been holding the phone away from her ear, peering over the banister into the kitchen. they were being far too loud. did cal tell them she was on the phone? maybe she should have done what he’d said and gone into the bathroom instead; lurking on the stairs in earshot of the kitchen was probably not one of her more brilliant ideas. “dad, i’m out with alice,” she started, crossing her fingers in the hope that he’d buy it. “i’m not going to be able to-”

"theodore you need to leave those kids alone. if you want ellie to stick around you sure as hell aren't acting like it."

"who said i wanted her to stay?”

elliot’s eyes widened and she hastily covered the mouthpiece, standing up and reaching over the rail to try and push the door closed.

“elliot? elliot, where the fuck are you? who’s theodore? who are you with? are you at the rice’s again?”

shit.

“dad, no! no, i told you, i’m out with alice! theodore .. is her dad. he came back to visit her and cooper.”

“i thought he and grace split up.”

“th .. they did .. he’s .. just back for a visit. dad, i’m staying at alice’s tonight, see you tomorrow.[/color]”

“elliot? elliot! if you hang up i swear you are grounded for a-”

elliot hastily hung up and closed the phone, staring at it with wide eyes. what if he rung back? what if he recognised the number as callum’s? she should have withheld her number, she knew she should have done. it would have meant that he wouldn’t be able to reverse the call. he wouldn’t be able to find out where he was. she quickly turned cal’s phone off, paranoia forcing her to be just that little bit over-cautious. she didn’t want to give her father the opportunity to ring back. she tapped the phone on her knee a few times, and then stood up and smoothed down her skirt, starting to breathe again and at least attempting to calm herself down. she wondered how long she could put off going home tomorrow. the rice’s wouldn’t mind if she stayed a little bit too long. they’d probably encourage it. she made her way back down the stairs and peered anxiously through the kitchen door, just in time to hear pierre giggle and admit that he’d realised what she’d been doing throughout the meal. she blushed furiously, and simply stood still, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed but wanting to be seen at exactly the same time.[/blockquote][/size][/center]

[callum theodore rice]

TAKE A CHANCE, LET YOUR BODY GET A TOLERANCE.
i'm not a chance but a heatwave in your pants.
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time just... wasn't moving fast enough. if everything moved by callum's watch, pierre and ted would be upstairs in bed doing whatever gay men of their age did at eleven at night in their beds. he... didn't want to think about that. if time were moving by callum's watch george would be upstairs in the guest bed sleeping like the little angel he was. if time moved by callum's watch he would've gotten her into his room and be well on his way to having her right this second. god, even thinking about it. dude, maybe he was mentally ill. was that all he could think about? ok, well, in his defense, can you blame him? have you seen elliot? thankyou. drop dead gorgeous and painfully unaware of it. wardrobe flaws and all he loved everything about her. every little thing. he felt like he knew enough already yeah? and callum had never been one for the type's of relationships based off of ordering chinese and watching old movie's on the couch in your run down apartment. he wasn't one for holding hands for a romantic stroll on the beach and talking about each other's flaws. that sure as hell wasn't callum. he wasn't one for writing poetry or buying flowers, though a dress and some nice jewelry were borderlining that stereotype. all callum knew how to do was touch. and he considered himself good at it. that was his way of showing... emotion. touch. and believe it or not, teasing was a big part of it. ok so he might not get down on one knee someday--though he could buy a hell of a nice ring--but honestly, who'd pick marraige over a good fuck? ... bad question.

but lies aside? there was some part of cal that was completely and utterly jealous of theodore and ted. not because they were gay and probably had hours upon hours of hot gay sex... ew. but because they were happy. they were married. they'd be together--hopefully--forever. oh god if they split up... no but honestly. ted had claimed pierre as his own. funny he'd never asked what pierre's maiden name had been. something french certainly. but the point was that ted had claim on him. through marriage pierre was legally a rice. same as callum. it was funny how that worked. tack your last name on the end of someone else's name and bam, they were yours. they were affiliated with you. you could even venture to say they belonged to you. and because of that callum believed that no other guy would catch pierre's eye like ted had. and that... made him jealous. callum had slept with shit tons of girls. too many. he could hardly tell them apart or remember their names. they were just one big collective, 'girls i've screwed'. but he wanted that. he wanted what theodore and pierre had. he wanted someone to be completely his. the only problem was that he couldn't exactly promise that in return. at least not yet. he wasn't ready yet. maybe some day. actually, probably some day, considering callum had been in a continuous state of change since he met elliot. but right now... or even a few years from now... no. he wouldn't be ready. given time sure, just not quite yet. right now he wanted to be young for as long as he could. though that was a silly dream, given time he'd get wrinkles and once attractive body features would become not so attractive.

just when he figured pierre and ted couldn't make this situation any more awkward for him ellie made her grand appearance, in a fashion that he was sure she thought was completely inconspicuous. that was elliot for you. trying not to be seen. how could anyone not see her? at least to callum she was hard to miss. and he should probably be grateful that every guy in their goddamn school wasn't all over her. here we go with the jealousy thing again. they may have all noticed, but pierre was the first to voice his knowledge of elliot's arrival, "how'd it go, sweetheart?" whether he was being impatient or not, callum didn't want to stick around to hear her answer or either of his father's response to the matter. he wanted to know, of course, but he'd ask her on their own time. upstairs. which is where he had every intention of shuffling her. he pushed off from the counter, carefully making sure that his son was safe within his grasp, and did just that, taking the few steps across their kitchen to ellie and handing george to her. whether she'd started her response or not he was finishing it, "we're going to lay george down.

[/color]" he spoke, whithout even making, or attempting to make, eye contact with either of his dad's and turned ellie around--gently--before doing as he'd planned to all along: shuffling her upstairs. a disappointed sigh of sorts from pierre was their only response so he kept them moving.

hopefully that would be the last thing they'd hear for the night.
[/size][/blockquote][/font]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PULL A BREATH; LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
palms up, i'm trading up. trading up.
[/center]

[elliot jordan casey.]

YOU DON'T SEE WHAT YOU POSSESS
a beauty calm and clear.

yet again, she was blushing. she hadn’t really stopped since she’d got here. cal’s parents had always had the inane ability to make her blush at any little thing – ted more so than pierre. hell, all three of the rices had the ability to make her stutter and blush and trip over things and bump into walls and desks and chairs and counters and even people. they threw her off guard and did things she didn’t expect. no one wanted to be predictable .. but elliot would have preferred it if she could have at least seen something coming. the comments, or the movements, or even the looks .. or the touches. it was like she’d been shocked with static electricity when she touched cal. but it was a good kind. she liked it. she didn’t want it to stop. she wanted to carry on with it and get shocked over and over again because it was cal, and elliot was completely .. head over heels for him, regardless of what people told her to do and what she knew she should do. she didn’t care whether her father had forbidden her to be involved with cal, she didn’t care if her mom had told her in no uncertain terms that she’d be kicked out if she found out elliot had been spending time with callum again. it was elliot’s life and if she wanted to ‘mess it up with that rice bastard’ as her father had so eloquently put it, she would, regardless of the consequences. she hated that she’d been so obvious during dinner, that cal’s dads had picked up on the fact that she’d been trying to tease cal almost as much as he teased her. it wasn’t like she’d ever done it before. couldn’t they have just kept it to themselves? of course elliot wasn’t going to be experienced in teasing. of course it was going to take a while before she was up to the standard of .. some people she could mention. of course she was going to be obvious. but had it worked?

she was just standing in the doorway quietly, half considering running and hiding somewhere ( she wasn’t sure where, but she knew that the house was big, and more than likely concealed a million hiding places ) and half wanting someone to look up and notice her. although, if the wrong person looked up, she’d be subjected to a million coquettish remarks and ted’s innuendo that most people thought her too innocent to pick up on. she fiddled with her bangs, resisting the temptation to pull them over her eyes so she could hide behind them, knowing they’d only be pushed out of the way shortly after. she kept looking up at cal, george, ted and pierre from underneath her eyelashes, feeling dizzy and light-headed and giddy every time she caught cal looking back at her. she bit at her lip and leant against the doorframe gently for support, crossing her converse’d feet at the ankle. black allstars were not the shoes she would have chosen to match her dress, but it wasn’t like elliot had had much time to grab another pair when she’d been taken home. she’d had to dive in, lie to her parents, grab george and dive back out again. there had been no time for side trips. it didn’t look too bad .. but she would have preferred it if she could have worn a different pair. she felt tiny.

"how'd it go, sweetheart?"

she half jumped and tore her eyes away from cal, to stare at pierre instead. how had it gone? how had it gone? elliot wasn’t even sure. she didn’t know if her dad had bought the lies she’d told him. she didn’t know if he believed that she was at alice’s or that her dad was called theodore when graham knew he was called richard. elliot was pushing her luck by lying to her dad; lying was something graham casey didn’t tolerate. she knew he’d heard something; he could have heard a whole lot more for all elliot knew. ted and pierre weren’t exactly quiet, and she hadn’t been far enough away from them. what if he knew she was here? she knew graham would just drive up to the rice residence and try and take her home. she knew he would. he’d done it before. twice. succeeded only once, but still. the point was, if he knew where she was, elliot was fucked. she’d be grounded for as long as she lived. she wouldn’t be allowed out, she’d have no internet, her dad would steal her keyboard, he’d take her cell, her zune, she wouldn’t be allowed to use her car without someone in it with her – someone meaning either himself, elliot’s mother or adam; basically, someone would wouldn’t let her get away with anything. she’d be pretty much confined to the house. if he could handcuff her to the kitchen counter, graham would. anything to make sure elliot couldn’t grow up and mature and change and be someone he didn’t know. he didn’t like the girl she was now, even though she’d hardly changed. if elliot changed even more and did things that were very unlike elliot, she’d never hear the end of it. “i .. um .. i .. don’t-”

"we're going to lay george down."

elliot found herself being cut off, and flicked her eyes back to cal, who’d managed to move towards her without elliot even being aware of it. her arms curled instinctively around her son as he was pressed into her arms, and she transferred her attention yet again to the small child she was holding. she pressed a kiss to the side of his head, carefully so as not to wake him up, and found herself being turned, complying immediately without even thinking about it. elliot hardly ever thought around cal. he just bypassed her entire thought process and made her do things automatically. it was odd, strange, weird .. but normal for elliot. she’d always been like that. she let george grip her finger again, the strong grip surprising her. nobody ever expects someone that small to be that strong. and he was only three months old. how could he be like that so early in his life? she padded her way up the stairs slowly so she wouldn’t trip, and looked up at cal quizzically once they reached the landing. she was leaning into him without even realising it, keeping herself close to him without even being aware of it. she was hardly ever aware of what she was doing when she was around cal. “where’s .. where .. what now?

[/color]”[/blockquote][/size][/center]