One and Only (Elvis/LanaDelRey FanFiction)

Chapter Five

Elvis jogged downstairs as vigorous, harsh pounds slammed against his front door. The sounds that were sent shivering his door where ones of a noticable emergency. Quickly, with no time to waste, he opened the door. Bursting in past him, Lana went inside with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Elvis!" she said in a panic, "Thank God you're awake!" Elvis - confused - closed the door and turned to Lana, whom had made her self at home by taking a seat on his couch. "Is everything alright?" he asked as he made his way over to the girl. "Everything is not alright," she emphasized in worry, "The pipes under my kitchen sink are completely ruined! Not to mention my parents will be here any minute to visit." Elvis took a seat on the opposite sofa across from Lana as she continued to explain her morning of havic. "My father had given me this house when he and my mother moved to Portland. It's my childhood home. If he sees one thing wrong with the house, he's going to flip his lid and he'll probably sell it like he was going to before I convinced him to let me keep it. Elvis, please, the house is under his name," Lana begged; clamping her hands together, "You've got to fix them for me. I'll do anything." Elvis scratched the back of his head, hesitantly. His plans for the day didn't exactly include the girl next door. Especially after the kiss they'd shared last night. Elvis knew the innocence of it, but he also knew the sins of it. Dixie was still his best girl and he knew things would be easier if he had started to distance himself from the beatiful California girl. His plans did insist, however, talking to Dixie on the phone all morning before doing a bit of grocery shopping; maybe he'd even write a song or two. After all, he did have the day off from the gig at the venue. "I don' know," Elvis spoke nervously, "I'm waitin' on a call from Dixie. I don' wanna miss it." Lana's lips fell into a pout and the look she had on her face was one of pure desperation. "Oh, Elvis, please!" she continued to beg, "I'd call a plummer but they're on the other side of the city. They'd take too long to get here! I'll never bother you ever again for a favor if you just help me save this house!" Elvis couldn't help but feel guilty. He could tell that Lana was in need of help and he couldn't just leave her knowing that she'd somehow get kicked out of her own home if there was no one there to help her. Elvis was quiet for a moment as he stared at Lana. In his mind, he debated all of the possibilities that could happen if he said yes and/or no to her. Her big, batty eyes made it even harder to resist. Finally, after a good three minutes of contemplating what would be the best decision for the both of them, Elvis gave in. "Alright," he sighed as he stood to his feet, "I'll help ya fix it." Lana jumped up from the couch and quickly pulled Elvis in for a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cheered. Elvis chuckled and pulled from her grip. "I haven't gotten any tools, though," the singer stated, "I've only just moved in remember." Lana shrugged, casually, "I've got some." She seemed, somewhat, calm now that Elvis had agreed. The panic and rush that she'd seem to have fallen in was gone and everything about her normal self was back as she walked Elvis next door, to her home. 

Lana's home was just as nice as Elvis' home, if not nicer. There was a beautiful chandelier in the middle of the living room. It complemented her wine red couches and white decoration table that sat in front of the two sofa's. She also had a fire place in her living room. Her house was visible bigger than Elvis's by a good room or two. Other than that, there wasn't anything much too impressive. Lana led Elvis to her kitchen that was sealed with white marble counters and silver stoned tiles that made up the kitchen floor. Lana had already set out a box of tools next to the sink and the small door that led underneath the sink and to the pipes had already been open. Elvis raised an eyebrow, looking at the girl. Lana knew what he was thinking and shrugged. "Don't think that I already knew you'd say yes. I tried to fix it myself earlier," she explained, "I think I made it worse." Elvis smirked with a shake of his head. He somehow found it comical at the thought of a simple, pretty girl like Lana trying to fix a kitchen sink. "Well," Elvis sighed, "Let's take a look." Elvis knelt down to the cubboured door and had taken a look at the pipes. But when Lana had said there was a leak, he didn't expect to see the pipes so busted. It had looked as if someone took a hammer and smashed in the pipes; causing them to disconnect. He could clearly tell my the indends on the pipes that it had taken more than one swing to get the job done. "That's odd." Elvis mumbled. Lana crossed her arms and bent down beside him, taking a look at the pipes for herself. "Is it fixable?" she asked. Elvis nodded. "Sure," he said, "It's just, the pipes look like they've been hit with somethin'." Lana shrugged her small shoulders cluelessly, saying simply, "I don't know." Elvis furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Lana with confusion. Not that he was blamming Lana for busting her pipes but something clearly wasn't right. "Anyway," Lana said, standing up, "I had someone look at the pipes. He was a plummer. It had been a little after you'd moved in next door. Maybe he did a rough job." Elvis looked back over to the busted pipes. "You're gonna need new pipes." he insised. But Lana was quick to object to the idea. "There isn't time for you to leave," she huffed, "You can't just try to put the pipes back together?" Elvis knew that what she was asking for was going to be tough but he agreed that he'd give it one shot. Lana, of coursed, thanked him kindly. "You're amazing." she breathed. Elvis blushed, but didn't reply. He then grabbed the box of tools and began to work on the pipes. Screwing, pulling, bolting; it all seemed like it was taking hours just to get the sink to at least hold up for a while. Elvis had been so busy focusing on getting everything fixed that he hadn't noticed that he was being watched. "I'd put the left bolt in that hole there, son." a voice spoke. Elvis - unexpecting the voice - quickly went to sit up and bam! He hit his head right on one of the pipes. "Aow." Elvis groaned, sliding out from under the sink. He held his hand to his forehead over where he felt a knock start to grow. "I'm sorry, son," the voice spoke again, "I didn't mean to startle you." Elvis looked up at a man, who seemed to be no older that fifty-five with salt and pepper hair. The man was dressed in a nice, yet casual, grey suit with a blue dress shirt and a black tie. It was obvious that he was a man of weath and many fortunes. The man held his hand out to Elvis with a grin. Elvis took the mans hand and was pulled to his feet. "I hope I didn't hurt you too bad." the man slightly joked. Elvis let a grin play on his lips. "We'll see after a few days, Sir." Elvis joked back. The man chuckled at Elvis's remark. "Robert England Grant, Jr." the man introduced himself, holding out his hand for a warm welcome. Elvis took the mans hand in a shake, replying with, "Good t'meet ya. Elvis Presely." The man nodded, seeming to beam at the sight of Elvis. They released hands just as Lana made her way into the kitchen. "Elvis," she smiled, "I see you've met my father." Elvis swallowed dryly. He felt a bit nervous to meet the man who might kick out his own daughter for finding out that the pipes had been busted. "Daddy," Lana said playfully stern, "I told you not to come in here." Lana's father looked at Elvis. "Well I'm glad I did," he stated, before looking back at Lana, "Besides, I thought we needed champagne to celebrate our gathering." Lana rolled her eyes. "Champagne for breakfast, Daddy?" Her father puckered his lips in thought. "Now that I think about it, it's a bit over the top." Lana grabbed her father by the arm. "Alright," she said, "It's time to go. Elvis has got to finish up."