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fellowshippers2004-03-17 11:56 pm
woodcliff.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-03-17 11:56 pm
(no subject)
Title: Paperwork
Author: Elijah eliyah@dombillijah.com
Pairing: Orlijah
Rating: PG
Category: Humour
Warning: Papercuts
Disclaimer: Although I have never met him, I am sure Orlando isn't anally perceptive.
Summary: Elijah and Orlando makes real property investments.
Feedback: Would be lovely
It was months and months after the Oscars, after the after party to end all LOTR after parties, indeed, after the ending of the Fellowship, that Elijah began to organize the purchase of a property in New Zealand.
Elijah wrote letters to the proposed co-owners, he wrote to Billy and Dom and Orlando. Elijah did up his letters on a typewriter, in blue ink. Elijah enveloped them in crisp envelopes, starched stiff.
Elijah requested from his friends bank cheques, signatures and certificates. Elijah put down deposits and exchanged contracts. Elijah wrote to Orlando requesting his acknowledgment of the transaction.
Orlando was proving difficult to reach. Orlando had surrounded himself with helpful staff, who sorted out his post. Elijah began to suspect Orlando never personally attended to the business of real property.
Frustrated, Elijah sent Orlando a 'With compliments' slip. And put in the corner, in ink gel pen, his initials.
Elijah's 'E' looked curious and curvaceous, Elijah's 'W' looked fruitful and flourishing.
Elijah's note returned after a week, stamped.
The date beneath the stamp was handwritten. And before the date, was the word "Received".
Elijah rubbed his finger pad over the green rose stamp and the messy black writing. Was this the handy work of a twenty-some romantic receptionist? Or Orlando? It was hard to tell the difference.
Elijah had couriered to Orlando's premises a satchel. It contained two copies of the purchase contract.
Elijah wrote on an yellow post-it "FYI".
Elijah received a letter from Orlando's solicitor.
The letter contained in bold, after the date, the address and 'Dear Mr Wood," the heading "RE: BLOOM/WOOD et al PURCHASE OF LOT 9".
Those words, black and bold as they were, right in the centre of the page, was a poem in Elijah's eyes.
Elijah popped the letter into a plastic sleeve and slipped it under his pillow.
Elijah wrote to Orlando's lawyers in reply. Elijah attached some photos of the property.
The letter had in its top right corner, carefully set out "Ref: EW/OB9".
This Elijah thought was a significant move and an unmistakable statement. Elijah was quick of breath and pink of face when he committed the act of dropping the correspondence in the express post box.
In one week, Elijah received Orlando's deposit cheque.
On the face of it, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The printed information and stamped endorsement, the signature signed by Orlando's accountant.
On the back, there was the disclaimer "Not Negotiable".
Elijah was disappointed. Until, that is, he saw attached to the corner of the cheque, was a paper clip.
It was plastic and pink. It decorated the dull bank cheque like a rosebud on a thorny cane. Most delicious of all, somebody had bent the paperclip into a heart shape.
Well, that was that, indisputable evidence of flirting, of acknowledgement of Elijah's coded signals.
Elijah clipped the paperclip to his lapel, put the sheet protector protected letter into his manila folder and headed for Orlando's office.
Elijah waved the with-compliments slip, the one with the green rose and the word 'received' at the admin assistant.
"I wish to speak to the person in charge of stationary, thank you," Elijah said, propped up by the water-cooler, feverish lipped and sweaty browed with anticipation.
"Take a seat, he won't be long," said the clerk.
Elijah sat down behind a pot plant, with his feet up and his body hunched. He sat small and camouflaged behind the scarlet stripes of the flax plant.
Elijah read a magazine to pass the time. It had cross-sticking patterns in it. Elijah counted the stitches that it takes to make the eye of a dragon. Elijah bit his nails. This was madness, surely, no reasonable person would hinge their days and dreams on paperwork.
Just as Elijah was sure, that the messages, scant and secretive and really undetectable as they were, were from random going-ons in Orlando's office. Just as Elijah was about to leave. Right after Elijah talked himself into seeing the unconventional insanity of his pursuit, he remembered.
"I'll just drop this deed here, then," Elijah put the title deed on the counter.
The receptionist was on the phone, he winked at Elijah and waved goodbye.
Elijah turned to go, but remembered again.
"Oh and sign here," Elijah produced a click pen and a scrap of paper.
The receptionist hung up the phone, took the deed and the pen and paper.
Elijah drummed his fingers, Elijah cowered by the photocopier. Though it was awfully unlikely Orlando would show up here, what with his career and jetsetting and all, Elijah did not want to be caught by Orlando.
Orlando might say "You run your own errands, Lijah?" or "What are you doing here mate?"
Elijah balled up the receipt when he finally got it. Elijah went for his umbrella in the umbrella tree.
"Oi," someone grabbed Elijah's elbow. "Don't you ever write back, Hobbit?"
Orlando stood six feet tall in the low ceiling-ed office, with two windows behind him. The rain abated and the sun poured in, melting about Orlando's violet jumper into a pink halo. Orlando smiled with his mouth soft as a monitor screen duster and his eyes bright as yellow highlighters. Orlando's skin was as clean as A4 paper in pristine reams and his figure as spry as a new stapler.
Orlando's hand on Elijah's elbow was as snug as a coffee cup holder, his other hand ran beseechingly up Elijah's back. Elijah's nerves jumped together and sorted themselves into Orlando's touch, as if Orlando's fingers were computer cord and wire organisers.
"What are you talking about?" Elijah feigned innocence.
"The initials, the mixing up of the B and E and W and O's," Orlando remonstrated, the with-compliaments slip flapped out from Orlando's trouser pocket.
"O," said Elijah.
"Exactly, with the E and W and B," Orlando said. "You're a tease. You've been stringing me along since the first down payment. And now I have something for you. I was going to put it on the with-compliment slip, but now that I've got you, I'll just give it to you in person then."
Elijah trembled and tensed, Elijah looked up at Orlando. Orlando's eyes glittered, Orlando hand an intent look of perverse lust at the point of fulfillment.
Orlando's thumb pressed hard into Elijah's forehead, Elijah could feel Orlando's thumbprint on the back of his skull.
Elijah gazed at Orlando in wonder, Elijah moved his brows.
Elijah touched the gold star in the centre of his forehead lightly.
Orlando batted Elijah's hand away and kissed Elijah's mouth.
Sometimes, even the subtlest, most pathetic hints are caught and cherished.
The End.
Author: Elijah eliyah@dombillijah.com
Pairing: Orlijah
Rating: PG
Category: Humour
Warning: Papercuts
Disclaimer: Although I have never met him, I am sure Orlando isn't anally perceptive.
Summary: Elijah and Orlando makes real property investments.
Feedback: Would be lovely
It was months and months after the Oscars, after the after party to end all LOTR after parties, indeed, after the ending of the Fellowship, that Elijah began to organize the purchase of a property in New Zealand.
Elijah wrote letters to the proposed co-owners, he wrote to Billy and Dom and Orlando. Elijah did up his letters on a typewriter, in blue ink. Elijah enveloped them in crisp envelopes, starched stiff.
Elijah requested from his friends bank cheques, signatures and certificates. Elijah put down deposits and exchanged contracts. Elijah wrote to Orlando requesting his acknowledgment of the transaction.
Orlando was proving difficult to reach. Orlando had surrounded himself with helpful staff, who sorted out his post. Elijah began to suspect Orlando never personally attended to the business of real property.
Frustrated, Elijah sent Orlando a 'With compliments' slip. And put in the corner, in ink gel pen, his initials.
Elijah's 'E' looked curious and curvaceous, Elijah's 'W' looked fruitful and flourishing.
Elijah's note returned after a week, stamped.
The date beneath the stamp was handwritten. And before the date, was the word "Received".
Elijah rubbed his finger pad over the green rose stamp and the messy black writing. Was this the handy work of a twenty-some romantic receptionist? Or Orlando? It was hard to tell the difference.
Elijah had couriered to Orlando's premises a satchel. It contained two copies of the purchase contract.
Elijah wrote on an yellow post-it "FYI".
Elijah received a letter from Orlando's solicitor.
The letter contained in bold, after the date, the address and 'Dear Mr Wood," the heading "RE: BLOOM/WOOD et al PURCHASE OF LOT 9".
Those words, black and bold as they were, right in the centre of the page, was a poem in Elijah's eyes.
Elijah popped the letter into a plastic sleeve and slipped it under his pillow.
Elijah wrote to Orlando's lawyers in reply. Elijah attached some photos of the property.
The letter had in its top right corner, carefully set out "Ref: EW/OB9".
This Elijah thought was a significant move and an unmistakable statement. Elijah was quick of breath and pink of face when he committed the act of dropping the correspondence in the express post box.
In one week, Elijah received Orlando's deposit cheque.
On the face of it, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The printed information and stamped endorsement, the signature signed by Orlando's accountant.
On the back, there was the disclaimer "Not Negotiable".
Elijah was disappointed. Until, that is, he saw attached to the corner of the cheque, was a paper clip.
It was plastic and pink. It decorated the dull bank cheque like a rosebud on a thorny cane. Most delicious of all, somebody had bent the paperclip into a heart shape.
Well, that was that, indisputable evidence of flirting, of acknowledgement of Elijah's coded signals.
Elijah clipped the paperclip to his lapel, put the sheet protector protected letter into his manila folder and headed for Orlando's office.
Elijah waved the with-compliments slip, the one with the green rose and the word 'received' at the admin assistant.
"I wish to speak to the person in charge of stationary, thank you," Elijah said, propped up by the water-cooler, feverish lipped and sweaty browed with anticipation.
"Take a seat, he won't be long," said the clerk.
Elijah sat down behind a pot plant, with his feet up and his body hunched. He sat small and camouflaged behind the scarlet stripes of the flax plant.
Elijah read a magazine to pass the time. It had cross-sticking patterns in it. Elijah counted the stitches that it takes to make the eye of a dragon. Elijah bit his nails. This was madness, surely, no reasonable person would hinge their days and dreams on paperwork.
Just as Elijah was sure, that the messages, scant and secretive and really undetectable as they were, were from random going-ons in Orlando's office. Just as Elijah was about to leave. Right after Elijah talked himself into seeing the unconventional insanity of his pursuit, he remembered.
"I'll just drop this deed here, then," Elijah put the title deed on the counter.
The receptionist was on the phone, he winked at Elijah and waved goodbye.
Elijah turned to go, but remembered again.
"Oh and sign here," Elijah produced a click pen and a scrap of paper.
The receptionist hung up the phone, took the deed and the pen and paper.
Elijah drummed his fingers, Elijah cowered by the photocopier. Though it was awfully unlikely Orlando would show up here, what with his career and jetsetting and all, Elijah did not want to be caught by Orlando.
Orlando might say "You run your own errands, Lijah?" or "What are you doing here mate?"
Elijah balled up the receipt when he finally got it. Elijah went for his umbrella in the umbrella tree.
"Oi," someone grabbed Elijah's elbow. "Don't you ever write back, Hobbit?"
Orlando stood six feet tall in the low ceiling-ed office, with two windows behind him. The rain abated and the sun poured in, melting about Orlando's violet jumper into a pink halo. Orlando smiled with his mouth soft as a monitor screen duster and his eyes bright as yellow highlighters. Orlando's skin was as clean as A4 paper in pristine reams and his figure as spry as a new stapler.
Orlando's hand on Elijah's elbow was as snug as a coffee cup holder, his other hand ran beseechingly up Elijah's back. Elijah's nerves jumped together and sorted themselves into Orlando's touch, as if Orlando's fingers were computer cord and wire organisers.
"What are you talking about?" Elijah feigned innocence.
"The initials, the mixing up of the B and E and W and O's," Orlando remonstrated, the with-compliaments slip flapped out from Orlando's trouser pocket.
"O," said Elijah.
"Exactly, with the E and W and B," Orlando said. "You're a tease. You've been stringing me along since the first down payment. And now I have something for you. I was going to put it on the with-compliment slip, but now that I've got you, I'll just give it to you in person then."
Elijah trembled and tensed, Elijah looked up at Orlando. Orlando's eyes glittered, Orlando hand an intent look of perverse lust at the point of fulfillment.
Orlando's thumb pressed hard into Elijah's forehead, Elijah could feel Orlando's thumbprint on the back of his skull.
Elijah gazed at Orlando in wonder, Elijah moved his brows.
Elijah touched the gold star in the centre of his forehead lightly.
Orlando batted Elijah's hand away and kissed Elijah's mouth.
Sometimes, even the subtlest, most pathetic hints are caught and cherished.
The End.
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Finally. Someone who shares my stationery fetish. *feverishly saves*
This is fantastic. Thanks.