Ill Conceived Plans

The Other Side of the Coin

Dane needed a shower.

It wasn't just that he had mud in nearly every orifice – which he did – he was cold and tense and tired. Three weeks of filming war scenes in the mud and icy conditions in Europe and Dane really really wanted to go home.

He didn't miss the UK much these days – not as often as he did when he first started traveling the world but for some reason, he was really feeling it this trip. It felt like he was being cloistered away, his life on-hold while the real world went on around him and without him.

The real world, where preparations for the awards season were being made; Christmas parties were in full swing and his family was making all sorts of plans for the season which was now under a week away.

Of course, he had nothing for his nearest and dearest, the family had an "only for the kids rule" but there were a lot of them now. He'd have to hit the ground running and brave the Christmas rush as soon as he landed or brave the net and do it all on-line – like he did last year. Last year, though, he started earlier, last year's shoots weren't as long and as rushed, he had plenty of time for things to be delivered but now all he seemed to do was work and flop exhaustedly into bed and time was flying, slipping past him at a rate of knots.

It felt weird now - he was on the other side of the world last year in Australia, filming the movie that was now getting him nominated for anything and everything. Even given the tyranny of distance, he hadn't really felt that far away, it was the other side of the world then and he was closer this time, still in Europe, but at this very moment, chilled to the bone sitting in a small guesthouse in the Czech Republic, he had never felt further away or lonelier.

It wasn't that he didn't have friends here. It was a good cast and crew – plenty of interesting people to talk to, plenty of interesting things to talk about. This would be a lavish BBC production when it was finished, gorgeous, elaborate and well-crafted. He was proud of the work he was doing, knew it was something special and well worth the 14 hour plus days, the cold, the mud. But he felt like he'd left a part of himself back in the UK, in London and he had – if he thought about it – which he tried not to do.

He tried not to do that a lot at the moment.

It was easy at first; he was too excited about the award nomination and too caught up in the drama and frenzy of a new project to have time for thoughts of anything else. But as it drew on, in those rare late night moments when he was all alone in his bed and not sleeping despite being dog-tired, unwanted thoughts would enter his head.

Unwanted thoughts of her and the little life stirring inside her.

He'd wonder where Fox was, what she was doing if she was looking after herself and their.........and Bean. The baby wasn't his anything. They'd made that decision for the good of his career. For the good of all of them. He couldn't be a father now, he was almost there – up on the summit of the career mountain he'd been climbing, a distraction would see him slip, slide, lose footing, lose ground.

He could ill afford that, not now, not when he was so close to planting his flag on the peak – well hopefully not the peak but certainly the top of the heap.

But, here as he shed his clothes for the shower and let the water stream and cascade down over his body, let himself become human again, let the warmth seep into his bones, into his heart, here and now it was hard not to wonder, just a little. To think about her, to wish, to hope, to care, care more than a friend. More than he should.

It was pretty much a month since he'd seen her, them or even talked to Fox, it was best like that.

She'd said they needed time to adjust – time for them both to get used to the new situation; Time not to say anything silly that would hurt their friendship, a friendship that was more important than ever now and yet more in danger than it had ever been.