Chapter Text
Running late Elrond texts Finn as he flies down the hall. He’s been stuck signing off on his resident’s notes’ (where on earth his fellow is, he's no idea). Now he's in a tux running a gauntlet of surgical residents who all suddenly have business in pre-op, and his (formerly) favorite nurse just whistled at him.
“Dr. P,” His fellow jogs up beside him. “Where might you be off to?”
Elrond sighs. “Now you appear. I thought we were all set, Lindir?”
“Yes of course. I have it all in hand. Monday you will have three less patients, I promise.”
“I hope you mean they’ll be discharged.” Elrond likes to tease his fellow, who is famously so fastidious about his workspace that a nurse once turned every third page of his notes at a 20-degree angle and Elrond had arrived that morning for rounds to find Lindir muttering to himself as he tapped the stack of paper again and again to fix it. Just last month Elrond had noticed a couple of residents he’d never seen before hanging around and once he’d cornered one of them the guy admitted that he was from psych and that one of Lindir’s residents had suggested he would make an excellent case study for obsessive compulsive disorder.
Elrond had sent the guy packing with a threat to report him, though he did have a private chuckle at the resident’s ingenuity. Lindir is known for being quite a taskmaster, and Elrond is ashamed to admit he sometimes enables him because it lets Elrond be the warm mentor he prefers to be.
Lindir nods. “Very funny, Dr. P. Yes, of course. Discharged. Just wondering where you’re going in black tie.”
“Fundraiser.” Elrond feels his phone vibrate. The text is from Erestor, not Finn.
We knew you’d be late. Come as soon as you can. please. Too many rich people. Finn trying to get me to dance.
You are rich people. Elrond types back.
He notices that Lindir is still at his side. “Anything else? I’m in a hurry here. I couldn't find my fellow, you see, and I just spent an hour signing off on paperwork.”
“Oh, you have my sincerest apologies,” says Lindir. Elrond suspects that Lindir ratchets up his accent at will. Elrond has seen him charm the laboratory techs once or twice and if he’s getting the full OxBridge at the moment, there must be something at stake. “May I say that you are doing that tux serious justice. Do you have a date for this fundraiser?”
“I do,” says Elrond, and leaves it at that.
You wound me comes the text back from Erestor. Btw have not seen your lady yet. Just her mother. Reminds me to send you that T McMillan Cottom editorial on blonde hair as a racial signifier
Elrond frowns as he types. You sent it to me. Twice.
“Look, Dr. P,” says Lindir quietly, “you didn’t hear it from me, but there’s a tidy sum riding on whether your date is a lady or a lad. Any indication you might be able to provide would be much appreciated. I would even be willing to split the money with you…”
There it is. Elrond sighs. “Don’t the residents have anything better to do?”
“Evidently not.” Lindir gives a shrug, affecting disinterest.
“I really do have to go, Lindir. I’ll see you for rounds on Monday. Keep an eye out for bleeding on that astrocytoma. If you need anything, Dr. Inglorion is on call.”
“Inglorion is a bastard,” mumbles Lindir. “But I wouldn’t want to ruin your weekend with him.”
“With Inglorion?” Elrond turns and gives him a smile.
“Your date. Is that a silk blend?” Lindir reaches out his hand to Elrond’s sleeve. “I’ve forgotten what a natural fabric feels like. Ah, the life of a poor fellow. Only synthetics for me.”
Elrond shakes his head. He seems to recall from last winter than Lindir owns a cashmere sweater in every color of the rainbow. He’s reached the elevator at last but as the door is opening his ortho colleague chooses this moment to yell from halfway down the hall. “Hey James Bond! Looks like someone besides me is getting laid tonight. Up top!”
Elrond turns pink and Lindir mumbles something about crassness and what can you expect from ortho anyway but then they see who is in the elevator and Lindir disappears so fast he practically evaporates. Elrond cringes slightly as he steps into the elevator beside his boss’s boss.
“Evening Peredhel.” Dr. Gill Galhad is dressed in a tux as well, though Elrond supposes this is just another Friday night for the hospital’s CMO. “Where are you headed?”
“Fundraiser,” says Elrond vaguely. “I’m running a bit late.”
“Not the Gala for Galadriel? Ridiculous name, by the way.” Elrond nods. “Splendid! We’ll go together. I’ve got a car coming. Should be here by now.”
“I was planning to get a cab,” says Elrond faintly, “but if you don’t mind…”
Not only does Dr. Galad not mind, but he is appalled that “one of his brightest stars” would be forced to wait with the hoi polloi at the taxi stand on a Friday and so Elrond is forced to make high-stakes conversation in the back of a towncar through 40 minutes of cross-town traffic. He’s explained that no he is not a donor (or rather, not the level of donor required to attend this evening’s event), that he is acquainted with the Senator’s family because he is a past recipient of their college scholarship. No he’s not attended the family’s golf tournament, no sadly he doesn’t play, no he doesn’t play racquetball either (never had the chance to learn, sir), and he is very flattered but no, he doesn’t feel he’s the right fit for the upcoming vacancy for Chief of Surgery. When his phone buzzes he apologizes.
Where are you? Finn has texted. Erestor won’t dance. I need you to him he’s being ridiculous. Bright side though—I think I’ve got a couple new clients.
On way in car w boss’s boss types Elrond when there is a brief pause in the conversation. am being interviewed for job I do not want. Send help.
After some long minutes in the line of cars queuing in front of the hotel, at last Dr. Galad admits they should probably just walk the last block. Elrond always worries that his name won’t be on the list, a humiliation that would be even more intense in the presence of Dr. Galad, but as promised he’s on it. They step into the ballroom together and he looks reflexively for Cel but while there are plenty of blondes (natural and otherwise, as Erestor might say), none of them are her. Dr. Galad seems loathe to leave his side. He’s just suggested that he and Elrond go say hello to the Senator.
You should have realized this thinks Elrond. He’s hoping you can introduce him. You need to get better at this. Why on earth are you telling him you don’t want Chief anyway? You hate money? Send some more to Elros for god’s sake. He thinks guiltily of his brother out West, eking out a living from his family practice on the res.
Just as he’s despaired of ever shaking Dr. Galad off, he hears a familiar voice at his side.
“El! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Finn’s arm is suddenly around his shoulders and Dr. Galad has to take a step back. Finn looks over at Dr. Galad then like he’s just clocked his presence and gives him a firm pat him on the shoulder while he shakes his hand. “Oh, hello there. Nice delts, I see someone is putting in the work? Apologies but I have to steal this one away for a moment. His date is looking for him.” And before his companion can say anything, Elrond is apologizing as he’s pulled away by Finn into the crowd.
“You’ve seen Cel?” Elrond asks as Finn guides him around several groups of well-dressed people.
“Sorry, I haven’t,” says Finn. “Necessary diversion. You look like you could use a drink.” They’ve reach one of the bars scattered about the space and Erestor appears with a glass of wine in each hand.
“Well done, darling,” he says to Finn and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “El, you ok? Red or white? They’re both quite serviceable.”
Elrond grabs the glass of red like he’s reaching for a life preserver and Erestor leads them all out onto a patio that’s not yet become crowded, probably because it looks like it’s about to rain.
Finn’s somehow grabbed a beer on their way (from where?) and he leans back against the railing gesturing with the bottle. “You look great in that tux, El. Wait till your lady sees you. I bet she’ll want to dance, unlike this guy here who’s allergic to fun.”
Erestor sighs. “I told you darling, no one dances at these things. It’s just background music. El, Galadriel is surrounded but we can probably break our way in there if you want to. Kiss the ring and all that.”
“I’m not sure if I should,” says Elrond. “I don’t know what to say to her now. I mean she’s happy to have me as her big success story, but I don’t know that she’d be happy to have me dating her daughter.”
“I’m sure she’d be thrilled, El,” says Erestor. “Not only are you a sweetheart but you’re a liberal’s wet dream, my friend. A black son in law plays well in this state but a Native American brain surgeon, now that’s national office stuff if you catch my drift.”
“Spinal surgeon, really. I do mostly spines.”
“Yes, El, the press will definitely refer to you as that, since they are famously interested in the nuances of the central nervous system.”
Elrond snorts with laughter but he’s begun to feel a bit shaky. He should have eaten earlier. “Is there any food at this thing?” he asks.
“Let’s find out!” Finn leads them back into the fray, where they discover that there is food, though it’s of the ‘passed appetizer’ variety. Erestor, ever the tactician, notes that they should move closer to where the waiters are entering the ballroom if they’re to have any hope of eating anything. As soon as they reach their destination, Finn waylays a waiter, grabs three sliders and hands the first to Elrond. “You’re eating the other two when you’re done with that one. Protein, protein, protein. You look like you’re going to pass out. Eat first, mingle later.”
“Oh god,” says Erestor when Elrond has made it through a second miniature burger, safe in the circle made by his friends. “I think I see my boss. Sorry love, either I go over there or he’ll come here and you’re going to have to hear us talk about options for the next twenty. I’ll be back,” he adds, just as much for Elrond’s benefit as his husband’s. He gives a nod to someone Elrond can’t quite make out, sighs, and heads away across the room.
“Business Erestor,” says Finn. “Slightly terrifying but also kind of hot. Is he smiling?”
“He is,” says Elrond wonderingly as he eats a third tiny burger. “I didn’t think he did that. I mean, besides at you.”
“Yeah he’s learned to mimic human joy when it’s absolutely necessary. He says he pretends he’s me and likes people.” Finn shrugs. “So. Gameplan. We work our way to your future MIL and if we see your girlfriend on the way, all the better.”
Elrond isn’t sure. He’s having second thoughts about being here at all, though if he could just see Cel it might feel worth it. She’d promised to say hi, though she told him she’d probably not be out among the crowd till later. Because she’d been so busy with preparations for this thing and he’d had a busy week, they’d not been together since last Thursday. That night they’d gone to dinner in her neighborhood (Thai), they’d kissed against every wall of the elevator on the way up, and then she’d pulled him into her bedroom where the little window unit was working overtime in the heat, stripped off her jeans and her underwear in one go and let her legs fall open in invitation.
“Thank goodness for all that yoga,” he’d said quietly as she pressed the soles of her feet together and he curled around her hip, head resting on the crook of her knee. She’d closed her eyes when his fingers began to trace light, meandering paths up her inner thigh, breathed a silent oh when they'd moved to stroke lightly over her. He was sure he’d never seen anything more beautiful when she opened slowly under his touch. He’d thought of ripe fruit as he took a fingertip and parted her, then added another as he played in her shallows. When she’d had enough of that she’d grabbed his hand and drew his fingers deeper. Because he’s started learning what she likes, he’d pushed upward with the heel of his other hand against her mound and slid his tongue over the nub he’d exposed, first very very lightly, then, when she grabbed his shoulder, pressing a little harder than he would have thought to before. In the space of a minute she was making a desperate noise as she ground against his tongue and the fingers he’d pressed deep inside her there (no wait, there). He’d seen to it that she shuddered twice more before she pulled him upward.
“Well that took FOREVER,” he’d teased her. The first time they were together she’d warned him that she took a long time; this has yet to be an issue thus far. She’d swatted his arm but then kissed him softly and whispered his name. He’s never really liked his name, but it sounds so good in her mouth.
“El?” Finn looks amused. “You with me? You look like you did that time you and ‘Restor had a few glasses of wine and started crying about Mahler.”
“We weren’t crying,” mumbles Elrond, thinking of the curve of Cel’s hip. “It’s just a beautiful piece.”
He lets Finn move him along to the area where a makeshift stage has been created. It’s a crush of bodies here. Elrond sees a couple of Galadriel’s staff who have helped him when he’s had to speak at events for the family scholarship. He makes eye contact and nods but they both stare through him like they don’t recognize him. Perhaps they don’t.
Finn inserts himself into a nearby group, pulling Elrond in with him. A few minutes later they’re chatting with three captain-of-industry types, Finn about interval training and Elrond about hospital design. He’s still searching the crowd for Cel. There’s no sign of her despite several close calls—goodness there are a lot of blondes here—but his eye does catch on Celeborn, who is laughing and talking animatedly with a tall man. His companion turns towards Elrond as he’s pantomiming the follow through from a golf swing, and Elrond realizes it’s Dr. Galad. He tries to look away but he’s too slow. Dr. Galad looks delighted and a little flushed as he waves Elrond over.
“Finn,” says Elrond quietly. “Finn, I have to go say hello to Celeborn and my boss.” Finn nods and immediately says he’ll come with him. For as long as he lives, Elrond will never understand how he’s managed to earn this loyalty from someone who looks like he should be shoving Elrond into a locker. One time after a few beers he'd asked Finn why he’d started hanging out with him, and Finn had looked at him puzzled. Because I like you, Elrond, he’d said. You’re a good guy. Don’t overthink it.
“I’m giving this to you because you’re the only one I trust not to be stingy with your friends,” Finn says to one of the men, handing him a little card and pointing at him as they move away. “I only have a couple of openings right now and I know some of them need this more than you.” Of course the man laughs-Finn’s got them all eating out of his hand.
Finn’s large shoulders get them though the crowd with speed. When they reach Dr. Galad and Cel’s father, Finn gives him a questioning look but Elrond decides he's got to go it alone and tells him he’ll catch up with him later.
Dr. Galad claps him on the shoulder. “This one slipped away to look for his date,” he says to Celeborn. “Where is she? I was hoping to meet the future ex-Mrs. Peredhel.” To Celeborn he says, “A little surgeon’s joke. Punishing profession. High rate of divorce you know.”
“Oh I don’t know about that,” says Elrond, nervously watching Celeborn. “There are several of my colleagues who’ve been happily married for years.”
“Hmm yes well, I can imagine the hours can be difficult,” says Celeborn.
“I’ve been thinking,” says Elrond to Dr. Galad. “Perhaps we should speak further about that anticipated vacancy. Later, I mean. I suppose it would mean less time in the OR but I wouldn’t mind the change in um, schedule.”
“Yes, yes” says Dr. Galad. “What do you think, Lothlorien? Is Dr. Peredhel ready to be Chief? I guess I should be careful when I say that eh! They’ll have me down to HR!”
Elrond feels his face get hot and in quick succession is angry at Dr. Galad, angry that he's going to have to laugh at this bullshit, and angry at himself because he knows he's going to do a bad job of it..
Celeborn frowns. “I think you’re cut off after that one, Gill. Elrond, it’s been a while. Where do you think your date might be, now?”
The reference to Cel makes Elrond smile and stand a little straighter. “I’m not sure, actually. She’s been pretty busy tonight but she said she’d meet me.”
Celeborn nods. “Good to find a woman who works for a living. I probably won’t see my good wife all night, but sacrifices must be made.”
Elrond nods. “When I saw Cel on Thursday she was talking about how difficult it was to get this space. It turned out well though.”
Celeborn is scanning the crowd. “Yes, it did. Celebrían didn’t say she’d seen you last week! Sometimes this city feels like a small town,” he says to Dr. Galad. “Sorry to run but I believe I’m wanted by my lovely wife. Always a pleasure, Elrond. Dr. Galad, I’ll see you at the next board meeting.”
“Indeed you will.” Dr. Galad is telling him something about Celeborn’s enviable golf handicap, but Elrond is busy replaying their conversation with new understanding. He thinks we ran into each other. She hasn’t told them. She doesn’t want them to know you’re dating. She doesn’t want them to know and you almost screwed that up.
Suddenly Elrond realizes that he’s being addressed. “I’m sorry, I should find my friend,” he says to Dr. Galad like he's an awkward kid trying to escape a conversation (which he supposes he is). Dr. Galad nods and extends a hand, giving him leave to go, but he’s frowning. You should have stayed, he thinks. What’s ten minutes of conversation about golf if you have a shot at Chief of Surgery? But he knows he’s too thrown to do a good job of it.
By the time he sees Erestor, Elrond has walked alone around the ballroom and its outer reaches for what feels like forever, trying to find inconspicuous places to stand while he looks for Cel and his earlier conversation with Celeborn plays on a torturous loop in his head. He’s absurdly relieved to see his friend.
“How was your conversation with your boss?” he asks faintly.
“Moderately stressful,” says Erestor. “Finn said you were talking with the patriarch himself. How was that?” Elrond just shakes his head. Erestor takes one look at him and says, “Let’s get some air.”
He walks Elrond through a set of swinging doors into the back hallway that leads to the kitchen. That no one stops them is confusing to Elrond, but Erestor looks like he knows where he’s going or maybe he just projects the air of someone who belongs here as much as he does in the ballroom. They follow a waiter out one of the back doors into an alley. They both take a deep breath and immediately regret it; there’s an overflowing dumpster nearby and the air is not exactly fresh. Elrond closes his eyes and tries to make sense of the past hour while trying to ignore the sound of scurrying rats.
The waiter looks curious as to what they’re doing out here, but Erestor just produces a cigarette from a silver monogrammed case and hands it to him as if in payment for disturbing his peace.
Elrond frowns. “I thought you’d given up smoking. I don’t want to see you someday in my OR because you’re having an ICH. That would be bleeding in your brain,” he says when Erestor raises an eyebrow.
“I thought you were a spinal guy,” says Erestor drily. He takes something out of his pocket and pops it in his mouth. “I’m doing it in stages. Nicotine gum. Gives me no pleasure whatsoever. But I still like to have something in my hand.” He removes a second cigarette from the case but doesn’t light it. After a couple minutes of silent fidgeting, he clears his throat. “So.”
Elrond sighs. “Had no idea that I’m dating his daughter.”
“Is that all? That’s not the end of the world, El. It’s still soon for all that, don’t you think?”
Elrond nods but his stomach is twisting. She doesn’t want to tell them because you’re not permanent, his mind whispers. You belong out here with the help. “And I’m pretty sure I embarrassed myself in front of my boss’s boss.”
Erestor raises an eyebrow and silently offers him the cigarette but Elrond shakes his head.
“You want to give me the blow by blow?” Erestor asks as he flicks imaginary ash.
“Not really.”
After a few minutes more, Erestor nods. “Well I think that’s enough feeling sorry for yourself. Let’s see if we can find your girlfriend and redeem this evening shall we? Young man?” He holds up the second cigarette like he’s offering a dog a treat, but amazingly the waiter saunters over, definitely interested.
“Something I can do for you gentleman?” The waiter is confident but young, in his early twenties or maybe in college, even. When he gets closer, Elrond sees that the cigarette is less of a draw than Erestor. The kid takes it and leans unnecessarily close to the Zippo that Erestor has produced, never breaking eye contact. Elrond has never known Erestor when he’s not been married, and it’s odd to see a glimpse of his friend as he might have been in another lifetime, effortlessly seducing people who are not Finn.
“My friend is looking for his girlfriend. The senator’s daughter. Merde, I feel like I’m in a sex comedy,” Erestor says to no one in particular. “She’d be around helping behind the scenes maybe. Blonde, pretty, early thirties…what else Elrond?”
Elrond gives him some more details and the guy looks at him like he thinks Elrond is probably Cel’s stalker, but he looks back at Erestor then and evidently for a chance with him, he’ll answer. “Last I saw her she was yelling at my boss. In the kitchen.”
Erestor thanks him and tells the boy to enjoy his evening, and soon Elrond is standing outside the door to the kitchen, wondering if Cel will be happy to see him. Erestor has drifted away to the other end of the hall. He's texting someone, Finn probably. Elrond hears Galadriel’s voice from within the kitchen then. It’s a voice that carries.
“You have to fix this, Bri. The Georges are not pleased. I know there’s a lot of detail required at these things but if you’re going to make a career of this, you have to be aware that…”
“It was an oversight by the caterer, and we have fixed it, mother.” Cel sounds tired, he thinks, like she’s just barely keeping it together. “I’ve plated the stuffed mushrooms without the cream sauce, one of the pastas was nearly vegan—we just had to leave off the cheese, and we’re doing an endive with…”
“Fine, fine. Haldir, you have the speech? Show me the spot where we’re nodding to my trip to France.” There was a brief pause. “That doesn’t sound right there. I think esprit de corps would be clever, yes?”
Elrond seethes as she laughs and Haldir joins her and they both ignore Cel. He’s about to come into the kitchen and tell them how ungrateful they are for how much work she’s done this week when Galadriel speaks again.
“Your father just spoke with Elrond. He said he saw you last Thursday?”
Elrond freezes as Cel says, without missing a beat, “We ran into each other in the park.”
“Small world.” Galadriel says. “Lovey I need you out soon for my speech. Make sure you take off the apron, yes?”
Elrond is fleeing down the hall, heading for the exit, before he’s even made a conscious plan.
“El?” Erestor is at his elbow, but Elrond just shakes his head.
_________________________________________________________________
Celebrían spends the entirety of her mother’s speech searching the crowd for Elrond. It’s been one disaster after another, but if she could just see him, maybe convince him to take her home, her night would improve immeasurably. She’s already paid everyone and though she would normally stay to make sure there’s no issues with cleanup, tonight she’d imagined that by the time that happened she’d be in Elrond’s bed, naked and in his arms.
“Ms. Lothlorien?”
Celebrían murmurs a “Yes?” and wonders what issue she’s got to deal with now. When she gets no reply she reluctantly tears her eyes away from the room. “I’m sorry, is there something I can help you with?”
“Perhaps I can help you. I believe we have a mutual friend? Dr. Peredhel?”
Celebrían takes him in fully. Of course. “You must be Erestor!” she says, and he inclines his head. “Thank goodness. I’ve been looking for Elrond everywhere and I can’t seem to find him. Have you seen him?”
“I believe you’ve just missed him. I’m afraid he left.” He’s studying her, arms folded. Celebrían blinks at him.
“Left? But I thought… Oh.” She thinks of the possibilities then, that he has to work in the morning? No, he does not. “Did he, um did he leave alone?” As soon as she says it, Erestor’s brows are halfway to his hairline. “I don’t know why I said that.” She does know of course. She’s still waiting for him to disappoint her.
“Ms. Lothlorien,” Erestor has come to walk beside her and she realizes that they’ve turned and are heading back toward the kitchen. “I hope that you know that the only person Elrond would be leaving with is you, yes?” She nods, a little embarrassed. “We came back to the kitchen to see you a little while ago. He was outside the door for a bit and I believe he was planning to say hello, but for reasons entirely unclear to me, he decided instead to leave. You wouldn’t happen to know what that would be about, would you? Well, no matter, that is between the two of you,” he continues without giving her time to answer.
Celebrían thinks about what he might have heard. Maybe she’d raised her voice when she was speaking with the caterer, but she’d not been too harsh, she thought. The menu was supposed to include at least three vegan options and she had the agreement in her email to prove it. She’d spent an hour helping fix that problem while periodically running out to deal with other issues. The temperature was either too low or too high, depending on who you spoke to. The rain had driven everyone inside so the outside bar was now pointless and when she’d asked the hotel’s assistant manager whether they could bring it all inside she’d told her that they needed the union guys if they wanted to do another set up (which she should have known of course). She’d just nodded wearily and told the bartenders to come inside where she’d added them to the existing bars, which meant three people working in a small space, all irritated at her. Then the AV manager told her that it was louder in the room than expected and that if he didn’t add another PA there was no guarantee that anyone in the back of the room would be able to hear the speeches. And then after all that her mother had come in to scold her for the lack of vegan options and…
Shit. She frowns and pushes into the kitchen, rushes to grab her things where she’d hung them hours before. When she reemerges into the hallway, she’s already got her coat on.
“How did he seem?” she asks Erestor, trying not to sound as worried as she is. “Was he…” She’s still trying to formulate a question as she heads out of the ballroom with Erestor as her shadow. She nearly runs into a large blonde man who’s suddenly in her path.
“Cel! It must be!” the man seems to be addressing Erestor.
“It is,” says Erestor. “Ms. Lothlorien, this is my husband, Finn. Finn, I was just telling Ms. Lothlorien that Elrond left. Something upset him I think. Any idea what that might be? We’re workshopping it at the moment.”
“Well his boss’s boss was here,” says Finn. “And I get the impression he was a little stressed. You know how he gets,” he says to Celebrían. “Erestor took him to find you, and…”
“Do you think he went home?” There’s a little aching worry in her stomach. Erestor nods. Celebrían throws her umbrella on a nearby ledge and texts Elrond (I was looking for you but your friends said you left? Am so sorry lots of fires tonight to put out) then pulls up two apps on her phone. With the rain the wait for a car is 40 minutes, minimum. There’s no response to her text.
She peers around Finn’s shoulder. “Shit. It’s really coming down out there. Well, taxi it is.” She starts for the entrance, turns to grab her umbrella, but it’s disappeared. Wonderful.
“Have you seen…?” she starts then decides there’s no time. She starts for the lobby with as much speed as she can manage but turns around to call back a thank you to the couple.
“If he texts you?” she said hesitantly to Erestor.
“I will let him know that you are on your way,” says Erestor. And with that Celebrían Lothlorien speedwalks across the lobby and heads for the massive taxi queue outside.
____________________________________________________________________________________
“I wonder what happened to that umbrella?” says Erestor. They’ve drifted into the lobby and are watching Celebrían hurry down the steps holding her evening bag above her head.
“You mean this umbrella?” Finn produces it from under his arm like he’s doing a magic trick. “Gosh I’ve always wanted to say that! You knew right?”
Erestor stares at his husband. “Of all the possible scenarios I would have imagined, this was not even in the top 50. Finn. Thou shalt not steal. I am shook, truly. What were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that there’s a zero percent chance Dr. P doesn’t let her in all sad and wet,” says Finn. “And I’m only borrowing it. I’ll give it to Elrond and if she wants it back, that’s another opportunity for them to talk if they need it. Not that they’ll need it.”
Erestor just shakes his head. “I can’t deny that I’m delighted by your creative thinking. However, you will recall that Elrond’s building has a doorman.”
“Celebrían Lothlorien doesn’t get stopped by doormen, honey. There’s no way she doesn’t waltz right in there. Now. Does this earn me a dance?” Finn steps closer and Erestor leans into him, takes his hand and kisses it.
“Yes, but back at home. What I want to do to you after can’t happen here, or rather it can’t if we don’t want to be arrested. Let’s use your ill-gotten umbrella to walk home, and then you can warm me up.”
As they head to fetch their coats, Erestor shakes his head. “El is not going to believe me when I tell him you’ve turned to a life of crime.”