Ellen and Portia fan-fiction

http://degenerossifanfiction.webs.com

Chapter 1 - Monologue

I don’t know how she does it, she just does. How she can lift a person’s spirit up with just a single wave and smile. How she can have the whole audience on their feet, clapping and cheering for her as she walks out on that stage. How she can make dreams come true and change lives. She really is amazing. And she is my wife. I sit blissfully in the audience of the Ellen DeGeneres show, opposite Ellen’s red velvet sofa with a huge smile plastered on my face. I was kind of excited for today’s show, Ellen said to me just 10 minutes ago as we were backstage that today for her monologue she was going to talk about us. I love how Ellen shares the recent news that is happening in our life with her audience. Somehow, we feel like one big family, with no secrets being withheld. I wonder what news she would share today I thought, as I was trying to think of any recent events that have occurred in our household I was interrupted by a voice on the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Here she is now, Ellen DeGeneres!”

With that the whole audience (including me) frantically jumped to their feet, clapping and cheering in anticipation trying to catch a glimpse of her. The audience was especially loud today. It was quite a buzz. That’s when the big, blue sliding screens expanded; revealing the woman everybody was waiting for, Ellen DeGeneres. My heart skipped a beat as Ellen gracefully stepped out on to the stage. She had a spring in her step and a huge smile on her face. I couldn’t help but smile like a goof when I saw her, she looked especially sexy today. She wore a black knitted vest with a grey blazer and matching pants, she was wearing the shoes I bought for her birthday last year, white Nike sneakers with red soles and black laces. She looked very, very trendy. Although I have spent almost 8 years being with her every day, I always react the same way around her as I did when we first met in late 2001. I still can’t get my head around the idea that I am married to Ellen DeGeneres! The woman everybody loves, the woman who appears on all our TV screens at least once a day, the woman who brags about how beautiful and amazing her wife is. Her wife sure is a lucky girl.

“Hey everybody, thank you so much for that reception. I send it all back to you, please take a seat!” She said.

With that the audience looked behind them, found their seats and sat. A few people in the audience were still clapping and cheering as Ellen raised a hand to signal for silence. She cleared her throat, smiled and spoke:

“Thank you so much for that everybody, it really means a lot to me. Did you all get here safely?”

A few people in the audience cheered and raised their hands.

“That’s good, that’s good. At least you made it here on time to my show, that’s all that matters”.

A few people in the audience chuckled, including me. I always laugh at Ellen’s jokes. Even if they weren’t intentional, Ellen makes me laugh.

“Well ladies and gentlemen; there is something I want to talk to you about today. Well it’s more of a person I want to talk to you about. And that person is sitting right there.” She pointed at me with a cheeky smile as she spoke.

My heart skipped as her beautiful blue eyes locked with mine. Her smile was infectious; I couldn’t help but smirk when she looked at me. I could feel my face grow hot, my cheeks reddened and my heart continued to beat faster and faster. How does this woman still make me feel this way after 8 years I thought, she is the only woman who managed to fill my heart, I felt complete with her in my life. My tragic past meant nothing to me anymore, the only thing I cared about was my wonderful future with Ellen. I am so honoured to be called her wife.

“Yes, I am of course talking about my beautiful wife, Portia de Rossi. There is a little story I want to share with you guys about her. It happened this morning in-fact, and is rather embarrassing for her I must say. Sorry Portia!” she says to me with a forgiving look on her face.

My eyes widened. Although I had a brief recollection of the incident she was talking about, I could not be mad at her. I knew it was for entertainment purposes, and Ellen would never embarrass me on national television. I sighed as I slumped in my chair, hoping not to hear anything too embarrassing about myself. It is partially my fault that Ellen shared these stories about me to her audience, I am quite a clumsy and uncoordinated person I must admit. I guess people find my lack of coordinace amusing.

“Well this morning, me and Portia were getting ready to come here and we were running kind of late so I asked Portia to hurry up and pick a pair of shoes to wear already , because she was taking forever to choose. You know what the wife is like getting ready”.

I could hear a few giggles behind me, I giggled myself.

“Well anyway, I asked Portia to quickly choose a pair of shoes because we had like 15 minutes until we had to be here, so with that she grabbed the first pair she could see and we headed out the door. We both got in our car and I was just about to pull out of our driveway when I looked down at Portia’s feet, attached to Portia’s feet were bright pink, fluffy slippers.”

My face reddened and I couldn’t help but break out in a heap of laughter, along with the audience. Thinking back now to the situation this morning, it really wasn’t that funny. But Ellen made it seem hysterical. I covered my mouth shyly with my hand as Ellen gave me a quick smile and wink. God, she is so sexy when she winks.

“With that I glanced up at Portia who still was unaware of the slippers attached to her feet. She noticed my stare and looked at me strangely. Portia asked me why I was staring at her with a big smirk on my face; I then told her what she had done. I should have just left her to come here in those slippers, maybe it would teach her a lesson. Isn’t that right baby?”Ellen glanced back at me.

I saw one of the camera’s in the studio pan over to me. I looked up and saw my red little embarrassed face on two big monitors above Ellen’s head. I removed my hand from my mouth and gave Ellen a big smile. “I promise honey, it won’t happen again” I said to her. The camera then panned back to Ellen who was laughing at my comment.

“Well, I did make sure that when I left my house this morning, I would be wearing my dancing shoes.”

I saw Tony, Ellen’s DJ press a few buttons on his laptop and with that ‘Sir Duke’ by Stevie Wonder erupted from the speakers above our heads. Ellen’s hip began to move and her arms began to sway back and forth, she began to dance her way up the middle aisle of her audience. Pointing and miming the lyrics to people as she passed, she then stopped and looked down the camera to say “We’ll be right back with Anne Hathaway after this”. It was commercial break; Ellen stopped dancing and walked over to me. Ellen and I always chat during the first commercial break; sometimes we even go backstage for a while.

“Hi baby” she whispered to me as she hugged me tightly. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as she retreated.

“Your monologue was great darling, thanks to my clumsiness obviously” I said to her with a smile.

Ellen laughed, “Of course Portia, I owe all my thanks to you. Want to come backstage? I think we have about 10 minutes before the commercials end”.

“Sure”. I said as I stood up out of my chair.

Ellen smiled and gently took a hold of my right hand, squeezing it a little as we walked. Ellen and I always hold hands, everywhere we go public or not we hold hands. I really like it. We both step behind the blue screen and up a few steps to Ellen’s dressing room. As we stepped in, Ellen locked the door behind us. I threw my bag on the blue sofa I recognised and slumped down next to it. I looked around the room at all the different paintings on the wall, some painted by me in fact. I could see scripts scattered on the white carpet and a few marker pens. Ellen glanced over at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the far wall before joining me.

“Sorry my dressing room is a mess baby, I never had enough time to tidy it this morning before the show”. She said as she plopped next to me.

“That’s okay; it was my fault that we were running late anyway. All I care is that I am here with you”. I replied as I lean my head against her shoulder. I looked up at her beautiful face and stared into her sparkling blue eyes and smiled.

“Portia, I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you”. Says Ellen as she gently strokes my cheek with her finger. She slowly moved her finger away from my cheek toward my hair. She started twirling my blonde locks around her finger. I shut my eyes, still leaning my head against Ellen’s shoulder. This was relaxing.

“Babe, I love you so much too. More than you could ever know. I am so glad I found you”. I say to her as she continues to play with my hair. She moves her hand upward toward the top of my head and begins to gently massage my scalp. A slight moan escapes my lips. “This is so nice”. I look up at her face and stare into her hypnotic crystal eyes, she smiles at me, revealing her perfect white teeth. Gosh, she really was beautiful. She stopped massaging my head and leaned down toward my lips, and then she grabbed on to my chin and pulled my face toward hers. I could feel her breathe, tingling my skin. Her soft lips slowly met mine; she grabbed a hold of my head and gently ran her fingers through my hair. I placed my hands around her neck, gently grabbing the back of her head with my right hand while running my fingers through her soft hair with my left. My lips parted slightly, with this invitation she cautiously slid her tongue into my mouth. My tongue met with hers, a moan escaped from my mouth. With this indication Ellen slid her hands down my back and grabbed my hips, she pushed my body against hers. “Oh baby” I whisper as her hand grabbed my ass. She lay down on the blue sofa, pulling me on top of her. I plant her bare neck with gentle kisses, while she grinded my hips against hers.

“Mmm, Portia”. Ellen mumbled breathlessly as I slid my tongue inside her mouth.

Ellen slid her hands over my back, holding onto my head. Still holding Ellen’s soft hair with my hands I begin to rhythmically grind my hips against her groin. Moaning now with my tongue inside her mouth she takes her hands off my head, down my body and grabs my ass tightly. Pulling me down even closer to her after each grind.

“Oh my god baby, you are amazing. I really want you”. I shout breathlessly above the loud moans escaping from Ellen’s lips. I grind down on her hard, becoming faster with each breathless pant.

“Oh Portia, please don’t stop. I need you right now.” Ellen wraps her hands firmly around my waist and pulls me in toward her; she fills my mouth with her wet, slippery tongue. Biting and sucking my lips hard.

The sound of our moaning and panting escapes from our mouths. I knew there were staff members walking through the corridors outside but I could not contain the noise. A loud moan escaped my mouth followed by “Oh, yes!” Outside I could hear slight shuffling of shoes, there was somebody outside Ellen’s dressing room. I then frantically glanced at the mini digital clock on Ellen’s desk and notice the time, 4:23pm.

“Oh shit, Ellen look at the time”. I gasped, heart beating in my chest.

“Oh no, I am late! I am expected to be back on stage in 2 minutes! SHIT!”She replied horrified. Ellen gently lifted me off her and sat up. I sat next to her, Fixing out the loose strands of my hair. Ellen stared at herself in the mirror; she used her hand as a brush to straighten out her hair. She straightened her blazer and tied a loose lace on her shoe.

“Honey, I am so sorry. I didn’t notice the time.” I said to her as I stood up, straightened out the creases in my jeans, bent down and picked my back up of the floor.

“Darling, It’s not your fault; I guess we got too carried away. It was so worth it though, I love you so much” She said sweetly, staring into my eyes. She looked down at her watch which was attached to her left arm and squinted.“Well, we better get going now, don’t want to be late again, do we?”

Ellen held out her right hand, I grabbed hold of it and we made our way out of the dressing room, down the steps and back onto the stage. A few audience members were till gathering to their seats after a quick toilet break; I walked over to the chair opposite Ellen’s sofa and sat down. I saw Ellen talking to the show’s producer, Andy Lassner. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, probably something to do with the show. She gave me a quick wave before she sat down opposite me. She straightened her blazer and took a sip of water out of the mug on her desk.

As I sat there watching her, I thought to myself. I am one lucky girl.

Chapter 2 - The Reservation

“I’d like to thank Anne Hathaway, Jennifer Aniston, Christian Bale and Karmin. Everybody in the audience is getting a copy of Karmin’s new album! Be kind to one another, bye”. Ellen said into camera 1 with a smile on her face.

The audience behind me erupted with claps and cheers; they stood up out of their seats as one of the cameras’ panned over them before cutting to commercials. I could see Ellen whispering something into Amy Heidemann’s ear while holding her album in her right hand. Music started playing out of the huge speakers above me; music always plays at the end of Ellen’s show. Most of the cameramen staff was busy packing up their camera equipment, while Tony was packing up his laptop and soundboard. It was another end to another brilliant show; I stood up out of my seat attempting to catch Ellen’s attention. Ellen and I always hang out after the end of her show; we usually just chat or go and get some coffee while we wait to be dismissed from the studio. Ellen noticed me standing and gave me a quick wave, she walked on over to me, trying to avoid stepping on the wires and camera equipment by my feet. My eyes widened as she swooped her arms undermine and lifted me up off the floor.

“Ellen! Put me down, you will trip on the wires!” I cried at her. I couldn’t help but laugh as she picked me up, even though I hated every second of it. I felt unsafe for some reason. I wriggled and squirmed under her arms, a few people in the audience noticed this and began giggling and sighing. I guess the audience are used to me and Ellen becoming very affectionate after each show. There were only about 6 people in the audience now; I guess they felt like sticking around for a while. Sometimes after each show Ellen would answer and few audiences questions or spend some time telling jokes or just talking in general.

“Relax darling, I won’t drop you. I’ve got you” Ellen said sweetly to my left ear. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before placing me back on my feet. Feeling a little relieved I gave her a quick smile, she outstretched her arms from her body and wrapped them around my shoulders, she squeezed tight and pulled me close to her. I inhaled, a sweet smell of vanilla evaded my nostrils, Ellen always smelt so good. I shut my eyes while she hugged me closer to her; I inhaled some more of the sweet scent and exhaled slowly. Ellen released me from her grasp and kissed my cheek again, softly.

“Hey baby, I just need to collect my things from my dressing room then we will head off home.” Ellen said faintly in my ear. I watched her as she walked off toward the blue screens, to her dressing room. I stood there smiling to myself, as I briefly remembered the incident which took place in THAT room earlier today. One of the sound directors caught my mischievous look; I quickly changed my expression when I noticed his stare. I took out my iPhone from my pocket, (which used to be Ellen’s before I “borrowed” it from her), and noticed the time, It was 5:26pm. Ellen and I usually arrive home from the show just before 6pm, sometimes on the drive home we would stop off for drinks. It really depends on how Ellen is feeling, most of the time she is absolutely exhausted. I don’t blame her, she works her ass off. My face lightens up as I see Ellen walking toward me, holding a medium sized black bag, her car keys and a bottle water. She wore a black and grey striped scarf with a pair of black, Ray Ban sunglasses hooked on her left collar. I smiled as she greeted me.

“Okay then Porsche, you ready?” She asked me while putting the bottle of water away in her bag. I caught her frantically looking for something in her bag, when she noticed my stare, she stopped. Weird, I thought.

“Sure, let’s go”. I replied.

I held Ellen’s hand as we walked onto the lot’s parking structure. There were dozens of other cars surrounding us, I recognised a few. Sometimes I’d like to play a game where I’d guess which car belonged to which staff member, more than half of the time, I guessed correctly. Only a few staff members didn’t own cars, they rode their bikes to work instead. Ellen bought her own bike for work and when temperatures are hot, would cycle around the different studios on the lot during the break or rehearsal. It is the only chance she got to take a few minutes out of work to exercise, so she take’s full advantage of it. We arrived at our black Porsche 911, our reflections bounced back at us off the shiny metallic surface. Ellen pushed a button on the car key, the car flashed, beeped, and then unlocked. I opened the door to the passenger’s seat and sat down, while Ellen sat in the driver’s seat. Ellen drove more frequently than I did. I could drive, really well in fact but I felt more comfortable when Ellen drove. She inserted the keys in the ignition, pushed her foot down on the acceleration, adjusted the wing mirror, shifted the gears and we began to slowly reverse.

“You enjoy the show today honey?” Ellen asked me while keeping her eyes on the road.

“Yes, it was great! Your shows are always great. I especially enjoyed today’s monologue”. I exclaimed with a smirk on my face. The car made a sudden stop at a red light; I looked over at Ellen while we were waiting for light to turn from red to green. She looked back at me, she took her right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on my knee, she squeezed gently. She leaned her head toward mine and softly kissed my right cheek. I looked ahead at the traffic light which was now green; the Porsche slowly began to roll forward, picking up speed as we drove off. I thought whether or not I should confront Ellen about her strange behaviour earlier. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she could have been looking for, was it something she was not telling me? A secret maybe? I dismissed the thought immediately and returned back to reality.

“You look so beautiful today darling, you look beautiful every day. I love you so much.” Ellen spoke softly. “Oh and since it’s our wedding anniversary next week I thought I would give you a few early surprises”. She quickly took her eyes off the road to see my dumbfounded expression.

“Surprises?” I asked her, confused. It was our 4th wedding anniversary next week, August 16th. That date will forever be engraved into my mind.

“Yes honey, but you’ll have to wait and see for yourself” She gave me a quick wink and a smile before returning her eyes back to the road.

I was overcome with a wave of excitement, I had no idea what she meant by ‘surprises’, but I was very excited. I reached out my left hand and placed it on Ellen’s knee. I adjusted my body in the seat and stretched my legs out in front of me. The sun beamed down on us, causing the street lights ahead to sparkle and glow in the distance. The air outside was shimmering; I looked up at the light blue cloudless sky and inhaled slowly. The summers in California were so beautiful. The Porsche slowly rolled to a stop as we approached another traffic light. We should of drove in our Ferrari convertible, it was very hot today.

“So honey, how many weeks do you have free?” She asked me.

I tilted my head in a slightly dazed confusion. She’d never usually ask me that. We’re relatively easy going together; Ellen and I can usually guess each other’s schedules, if I’m filming ‘Arrested Development’ then she knows I’ll be out of the house early to get to Newport Beach. Of course, I know that unless she has a new project on, she’ll be leaving earlyish to get to the studio in Burbank and she’ll be back in the late afternoon. The AD filming schedules have been tough, but equally rewarding; being back together with the group feels absolutely incredible and the buzz of being able to leave such an amazing workplace to arrive home to an amazing, beautiful wife makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive.

“Honey…” She softly hinted that she required an answer to her question.

“Sorry, what?” I eventually replied.

She giggled at my hopelessness, “How long are you off for?”.

I smiled at her gently, she knew the answer but for some reason she wanted to hear me say it. “I’m off for 3 weeks from tomorrow sweetie.” She turned away, without acknowledging my answer. When she turned back, her blue eyes had an excited twinkle in throughout them. I knew she was excited to tell me something and I was waiting for her to reveal it.

But she didn’t.

We went upstairs and she led me towards the bedroom as per usual. “Baby, hold on, I wanna go to the bathroom quickly.” She smiled and nodded, this was fairly routine of me. I was tired now, I knew she would be too, so I quickly wiped my make up off and combed through my hair, I looked up into the mirror to double check that I got all the thick mascara off my eyelashes (the crew from Ellen’s show liked to cake my face in make up when I was there, just in case the camera ever caught me). Then I noticed the note. A yellow post-it note was firmly pressed onto the mirror, it read “Hurry up!”. I laughed loudly at her knowledge of our relationship, 8 years together had solidified our routine, she knew exactly how long I’d take to ‘quickly pop into the bathroom’. But this was a first. She’d never left a note telling me to ‘hurry up’. This was something new; it was these adorable surprises that kept our relationship feeling fresh and exhilarating every minute of every day. Usually, if my wife wants me to ‘hurry up’ she’ll shout it from the bedroom, alerting the cats who would then interrupt our time alone together by burying themselves between the two of us.

I left the bathroom, holding the note. As I reached the door I began to question her, “El, what’s this cheek-” I stopped dead in my tracks.

Around the whole room were dozens of beautifully lit, multicoloured candles. The vibrancy of the room echoed my overwhelming emotions as I turned to face her. And there she stood, the most gorgeous, talented, beautiful and attractive woman to ever grace the planet. She stood in a tailored three piece suit, the navy grace of the clothing complimented her golden hair, gleaming white teeth and angelically echoed her piercing sky blue eyes. She held in her strong, reliant hands a bunch of handpicked roses and chrysanthemums - our wedding flowers - picked directly from our garden. Ellen’s attention to detail is one if the many things that make her so wonderfully perfect to be with and be married to. She looked into my eyes and as she did so, the most divine and breathtaking smile spread across her face. Ellen’s warmth was one of the first things that attracted me to her and that smile is a true reflection of it. When she smiles that smile, it means she is so genuinely happy to see how she has made you feel that she can’t help but physically show it. I walked towards her, put my arms around my shoulders, kissed her firmly on the lips and pushed her towards the bed. There was no way that suit of hers was staying on for long. My fingers slide the buttons of the soft jacket through the button holes, undressing her, I was furiously kissing her neck as she held me by the small of my back. The heat between us now was untameable, there was no stopping us.

We lay on the bed afterwards, simply staring into one another’s eyes. Ellen’s eyes glistened at me as I raised an eyebrow and questioned her, “Where did that come from? Our anniversary is a week away yet darling?” Ellen looked at me and sighed, “I told you, there’s going to be surprises all week now sweetheart.” I felt guilty as my ‘Arrested Development’ schedule hadn’t allowed me the time to organise anything yet. I playfully rolled on top of her, grabbing her by the collar of the shirt she had loosely put back on. “You mean, there’s more?” I knew there had to be because I was certain that whatever she was looking for earlier that day wasn’t the flowers, but I asked anyway.

“Oh baby, maybe you don’t know me at all! This is just the beginning.” I playfully kissed her on the forehead and she sleepily smiled and shut her eyes. I rolled over and lay beside her, she blew out the candles and turned off the lights, saying, “For now, we need to sleep, we’ve got a reservation made for the morning.” This was news to me but by now my eyes were heavy with the excitement of this evening’s excursions so I slowly drifted to sleep pondering what this “reservation” was.

The alarm woke me at 5.30am. Neither of us was working so I turned to Ellen, expecting her to turn the forgotten alarm off. She wasn’t there.

Bang.

I quickly ran out of the bedroom to aid Ellen, who presumably was involved in the creation of that noise. But she wasn’t there, yet again. Instead, outside the room were hundreds of red and gold balloons.

Ellen was still nowhere to be seen.

In one of the balloons nearest to my feet, something glistened from inside it. I popped the it and out fell an aluminium wrapped handmade envelope. I opened it and read aloud to myself, “Keep popping!” This was a typical playful romantic gesture that I could expect from Ellen a week before out anniversary. With each balloon I popped the feeling of guilt swelled within me, I still hadn’t even thought about what to get her yet, and there she was organising hugely romantic gestures! I was dreading popping these balloons, each pop seemed to fill my head with more guilt. I had to force myself to stop thinking about it so that I could appreciate the hard work my wife had put into this. She must have been up all night blowing up these balloons; I hadn’t seen them in the house yesterday. Finally I popped one and a mixture of confetti and silly string exploded out, startled, I grabbed the piece of paper that accompanied them… another clue.

“Go to the spot where I first kissed you as my wife.”

I smirked at her childish game and romantic nature; I loved how she could combine the two to leave me feeling like the most blessed woman ever. Of course I knew exactly where she meant, I wasn’t that bad at being her wife. I may have left anniversary plans to the last minute but there’s no way I’d forget that. I ran downstairs where I found a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. The coffee was still hot; she couldn’t be far ahead of me. As I walked round the corner to the room in which we first kissed as a married couple, the memory appeared as clear as daylight in my mind. Ellen standing in front of me, a tear glowing in her eye, she tilted her head and leaned in. Her lips connected with mine perfectly, the soft melting sensation I felt from her lips was enchanting and for a moment, the room was ours alone. I felt like I was softly floating, my feet rising from the ground with hers in a perfect moment of blissful happiness until we were brought back down by the merry clapping and applause of our select few guests. It was the happiest moment of my life.

I entered the room and as I did so, the lights dimmed until they were almost out. Projected onto the back was wall our wedding video, I sat in my favourite chair and watched. That precious moment when we first saw each other is perhaps my favourite image of my wife to date. She looked completely flawless in her suit, her unique feminine yet powerful style was encapsulated in that outfit and everything about her was simply perfect in that moment. It was that moment that I saw myself reflected in her eyes as the woman I had been striving to be for the past ten years. Reflecting back was a happy, relaxed, comfortable and confident woman who didn’t need to conform to anyone else’s image of perfect other than the woman who stood in front of her.

Our wedding song faded out until her heard alluring voice talking to me from the screen.

“Hey, darling. I hope you’re having a good morning so far, sorry to have woken you so early but we’ve just got to make that reservation! Meet me at the restaurant we went on our third date. That’s gonna test your memory now isn’t it!” She knew I was hopeless at that sort of thing, I remembered every second of that night, it was the first time we’d made love. The dinner before was incredible, and that night I realised how hopelessly in love I’d fallen for Ellen Degeneres. I just couldn’t remember the name of that damn restaurant. As the lights came back up I noticed a bottle of champagne and a note attached, “Bring this.” As I lifted the bottle I noticed a napkin underneath, it wasn’t one of our Egyptian cotton, gold napkins from the dining room, it was a white napkin with something stitched along the side. I tried to make out what it said, and when I did I rushed to my car.

The car wasn’t where it usually was but I didn’t panic, I presumed it was merely anoter one of Ellen’s surprises. I was right. Her producer Andy turned up, holding a sign saying my name and when he flipped it over, it simply read “I’m not allowed to talk to you”. I giggled, I knew Ellen had forbidden him to talk because he’d give the whole game away.

“She got you up early too then I see?” I laughed as I asked. He nodded in response.

“Gotta do what the boss says!” He quickly clasped his hands over his mouth in a childlike manner, realising he’d broken the rules. I climbed into the back seat of the car as guided by Andy and we set off; the restaurant wasn’t far but I couldn’t have walked it in less than an hour. As I instructed Andy where to go I realised the restaurant Ellen was leading us too wouldn’t be open this early in the morning. It was an Italian Bistro that only served evening meals. Maybe I’d gotten it wrong? I questioned the location in my head but knew I was right. I pictured the street we had walked along, holding hands in public for the first time, our hands intertwining and for the first time I felt the strength of our connection, I knew it was the most real thing I would ever feel in my life. I remembered laughing as we were forced to run down the street from the paparazzi, who were shouting all sorts of questions at us; I was too enthralled by Ellen to notice.

“Andy you know where I’m meant to be going, right?” He abided by my wife’s rules and simply raised his thumb in answer to my question. My mind was at ease and I was free to reminisce about that incredible night.

The vibrancy of our passion was almost physically visible that night. Her touch felt electric on my skin, her smell intoxicating my brain until I forgot myself. For the first time I felt relaxed in my own body. Ellen’s touch made me buzz with excitement.

Andy put the brakes on and opened the door. I stepped out and thanked him and he quickly drove away. It was still relatively dark outside but I could make out the Bistro door. It was lit by the same candles Ellen had lit just hours before in our bedroom. I pushed open the door and sure enough, over in the corner of the room, was my wife.

Asleep. Ellen had fallen asleep.

She looked adorable, curled up on the sofa like bench that we’d eaten dinner at all those years ago. I walked over to her put my hand on her back and—

“BOO!”

I literally jumped out of my skin. Classic Ellen. She’d fooled me into believing she was asleep and then at the last moment sat bolt upright. I playfully hit her, laughing to myself at how gullible I’d been. I should have known better! She put her hands on my shoulders and quickly pulled me towards her. I snuggled into the lapel of her jacket and told her, “This morning has been amazing, you’re amazing. I love you more than anything.” Ellen stared into my eyes lovingly as opened her mouth to reply. “I love you too, but…” My heart skipped a beat, I was entirely panic stricken. What was the ‘but’? Had she realised I hadn’t planned anything? My whole body went into lockdown until she said, “…you’re giving me a dead arm.” I hit her again, playfully but considerably harder. She knew she had wound me up, we both giggled until I pressed my lips hard onto hers and hugged her so tight that I felt sure she couldn’t breath. A man dressed all in white walked over and interrupted the embrace, presumably our waiter, he asked “Are you ready ladies?”. He spoke in a rich Italian accent, even the waiters voice was romantic today.

“Oh, gee, I errr, I haven’t even had a chance to look at the menu—” I said.

“Porti—” Ellen interjected.

“Since when did you guys do breakfast? Which of these options is vegan?” I continued.

“Portia.” Ellen repeated, staring at me with a smirk firmly on her face. “This man is not our waiter…” I felt my face flush red.

I slowly looked up at him, he had a pilot’s badge attached to his breast pocket. It must have been the combination of pure excitement and the lack of sleep that caused me miss such a glaring clue.

“We’re going to the airport honey.” Ellen informed me.

Chapter 3 - The Flight

We both slept on the plane. Portia took the window seat because she usually likes to stay up and try and work out where we are at any given time. I have to sleep on a flight or I get restless. When I glanced over to Portia I got the usual butterflies and I couldn’t help but smile, she must have been really tired, she was asleep, resting her head against the window. She was smiling in her sleep as she so often does, it’s like she’s really really comfy or something, I dunno. I do know that she’s absolutely perfect in every single way though. I can never stop looking at her when I’m around her. Portia’s eye smile when she does and it warms me through like a thanksgiving turkey. I pulled the blanket over her, you know how cold it can get on a plane, I didn’t want an angry wife waking up next to me on a looooooong flight. At this point I still hadn’t told Porsche where we were going, she just knew it was somewhere we’d never visited as a couple before. She’d been there and stayed for a while whilst working on a project and loved London. I however, had never been there before and was beyond excited to make my first visit. I knew the weather would be crappy but I suspected that Portia and I would have the most incredible anniversary anyway. I didn’t even remotely care what we did as long as we spent it together. The past four years have been the greatest of my life, Portia has made me feel whole and I finally realise that my puzzle is complete. They say you can’t have everything but I seem to have been blessed with the perfect balance of career, wife and ultimate happiness.

I was just dozing off when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I looked up expecting it to be a air steward, but when I looked up, no one was there… until I looked down and realized a small, sleepy looking child was coyly smiling right at me.

“Missus Degeneres, I’d really like a picture with you.” The short and slightly chubby kid made my jetlagged heart melt. His bright blue eyes and golden hair brought a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. I jumped out of my seat to take the picture. And then fell back down (long-hall flight, bad circulation, what can I say?). As I composed myself I crouched down to his height and his mother took a picture, I gave him a huge hug and he thanked me. I turned to sit back down and noticed that Portia was awake, her grin reaching from ear to ear. She looked like the cat that got the cream.

“What?!” Her smile was infectious and I couldn’t help but smile back when I asked the question.

“That was adorable.” She told me. I looked confused, she must have seen me meet child fans hundreds of times, not to mention the fact that I always had kids on the show – Sophia-Grace and Rosie were regular features in both our lives!

“Babe, that’s not the first time I’ve met a kid before. I may look it but I’m not from mars for godsake.” I jokingly responded.

“Your face just like up so much when you saw him. It was beautiful.” She informed me.

“Must have been the cabin pressure.” I tried t act cool about it, but that kid really was adorable. Portia smiled and shook her head at me. She looked so serenely radiant today, despite the early start; her warmth and compassion flowed through her and I could feel my heart ache to kiss her. So I did. And she kissed me back so passionately that I almost forgot that we were entirely open to the public and lost myself in the devotion of that single kiss. I squeezed her hand tightly in mine and looked at the perfection of our intertwined fingers.

“Ellen.” She whispered as she stared directly into my soul. My wife stood up and left her seat, she handed me the same aluminum wrapped envelope I had made for her this morning. I unraveled it and read the message, “Wanna join the mile high club? You’re membership application is waiting for you in the bathroom.” Portia even drew a cute winky face on the corner. Man, my wife is hot, I thought to myself. I figured it was clichéd to commit such an act in the plane bathroom but how many people “do it” in the first class bathroom?! In there I could stretch my legs and have room to breathe! Heck, I could go for a jog if I wanted to!

I waited a minute to get up so that it wasn’t suspicious. Then I leapt up at the thought of my gorgeous wife waiting for me. I crept past the rows of sleeping passengers and knock on the bathroom door. “It’s me Porsche”. I heard her unlock the door as she recognized my Southern drawl with its hint of Los Angeles about it. I took a second to compose myself then slowly pushed open the door. I expected to see her but I didn’t, the room was pitch black.

“Shut the door.”

I did as I was instructed. Then she flicked on the light. And there she was, her perfectly shaped figure was covered by a delicate set of classy yet provocative underwear I had bought her for Valentine’s Day earlier this year. She was wearing heels that I had never seen before, but they stretched out her seemingly endless legs so exquisitely. She stood up and walked towards me slowly, being careful to place one foot directly in front of the other with each step she took. Portia never failed to look elegant and graceful in heels. The movement of her body was so bewitching and entrancing I could help but stand in awe. The perfect curvature of her hips flowing up towards her breasts was seamless. I slowly moved my arms around her back, securing her to my body. My wife began to slowly unbutton my shirt and effortlessly removed it from me. As I placed my arms back down on her back I undressed the final layer of clothing she had on. I felt her breasts in my hands, the small perfect roundness of them was invigorating. I lifted her up and placed her down on the sink. I had to have her. My hands were grasped on her buttocks and slowly I moved my fingers round. I traced her shape delicately; I felt the flutter of her breath caught in her throat as we kissed. I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth, my fingers echoing the movement of my tongue down to every detail. The warmth of her enticed me further, until I abandoned all hope of control. Her breathing was becoming heavier. I could hear her moaning but drew my mouth to hers once again to prevent the sound escaping and alerting the cabin crew. Portia’s face contorted with pleasure and I knew what was coming, the thrusting of my fingers was rapid now. I retracted them and kissed her neck softly. She leant in with her hands towards my pants but I stopped her, I wasn’t done with her yet. I kissed her, gradually moving down her body, keeping one hand firmly on her perfect breast. I felt her shudder as she felt my warm breath up against her. She was close.

She reached her destination as I kissed her inner thigh. Her soft, tanned skin tasted so delicious to me and her beauty radiated from every inch of her body. I stood up to regain my posture and felt my head rush with love for my spectacular wife.

“How was that baby?”. I waited for the verdict and I grabbed my shirt.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” She spoke in a low, staccato voice as she pushed me hard against the wall. Portia was biting her lip. Her eyes were intensely focused on mine and the light sweat that covered her body gave her body a divinely erotic glisten. My breathing grew heavier as she stepped closer and I felt a wave of passion overtake my body. As she touched me, I became numb to the world.

I left the bathroom shortly after Portia, avoiding any contact with other passengers. I found Portia sprawled out on our seats when I returned, she had found the maps of London I’d packed for our trip and turned to me with a look of thorough joy swimming in her eyes. Had it seriously taken her this long to realise where the flight was headed?

“London baby?!”

I nodded my head in response.

“You truly are the most amazing woman on the planet. I don’t deserve you.” I hated it when she said things like this. Portia really did still struggle with self worth, and part of me like to egotistically believe that I had helped her overcome this constant battle. But ultimately I knew it would always be there. She was avoiding eye contact and as I lifted her chin and pulled her eyes to meet mine, I assured her, “Honestly darling, you make me who I am. You are the reason I live and you truly are every bit of my inspiration. You drive me forward every day and ignite my passion for life every moment of the day. You are the force behind me. You are the most precious person in the world, you never cease to amaze me. I love you more than I ever realised was humanly possible.” With that, my wife burst into tears.

Chapter 4 - London

As the plane touched down I sat up and looked over towards Ellen. She had grabbed her sunglasses, bracing herself for the inevitable bombardment from the press the minute we stepped off the plane. My wife was pulling a ridiculously adorable silly face in her sunglasses and then grabbed my hand, ready to guide me off the plane into the excitingly cultured city of London. I wondered if Ellen had a plan for our first day in this glorious country. I didn’t even know how long we were staying here for. I hoped we would spend a considerable amount of time here but I knew that Ellen had a filming schedule for the show set up next week so we must be flying out soon after our anniversary.

We arrived at our hotel in the late evening, it was situated in the centre of the historic area of the city, my personal favourite area. As we stepped into the hotel lobby I realised that through the excitement of this morning, I hadn’t actually packed a case. The only personal belongings I had right now were the heels I had brought in case we needed to dress up back at the Bistro and the champagne my wife has left for me this morning.

“Porsche, honey, catch up, we need to drop our bags off with the concierge.” Ellen rushed ahead. She was visibly tired and travelling often wore her out a lot, which sadly for me meant that our hotel bed would purely be for sleeping tonight. The hotel suite was impeccable, the divinity of the bed linen was reminiscent of that in our Wedding Suite on our honeymoon. It was almost as if Ellen had chosen it deliberately. As I surveyed the room, I realised that it matched our Wedding Suite down to the exact detail. She had truly gone all out on this. Our original Wedding Suite back in Beverley Hills was traditional, delicate and in hindsight, quaintly British. Almost as if everything had been planned by Ellen since day one. Ellen turned to catch my expression, I looked at her and smiled into her eyes. The crispness of her eye colour was intoxicating right now and she blushed red as she realised how insanely perfect I thought she was. Ellen commonly joked about being a Covergirl and her obvious beauty but when her comedy is stripped back, she’s really very fragile and conscious of herself. She is by no means insecure but like anyone forced into the limelight and anyone who has had their private life scrutinised by the media is bound to feel they need some sort of cover to protect themselves. I recognised that blush and thoroughly empathised. As we each melted into the other’s soul we lay down on the bed. Both of us exhausted by our travels but feeling no specific need to talk, we continued to just look at each other. I often recall these moments and realise that the lack of necessity to talk all the time is a sign of true comfort with one another. Ellen and I can sit and just look at each other for hours. We simultaneously threw ourselves upon the bed and slumped our bodies parallel to each other upon the glorious king size bed that my wife had organised for us. I clasped her hands in mine and watched as she drifted to sleep with a gentle smile upon her face. She looked elegant and angelic. I wrapped her in the duvet and undressed her so she wouldn’t crease the divine Ralph Lauren shirt she was wearing. I stood up and realised Ellen had packed a case for em and had it taken to the considerate with her own. I opened my case on the floor only to be greeted with another envelope and a gorgeous deep red rose. The letter in the envelope instructed me to put the champagne in the mini fridge which incidentally was stacked full of our favourite vegan brownie snacks that she could only have brought over with us. She really had thought of every detail. With the other instructions lay an itinerary for tomorrow, however, it simply said “Teach me how to deal with the tube”. I giggled at this and looked to the bottom of the letter which instructed me to “Come over here and give me a cuddle! I promise there’s no more letters now, I’ll actually talk to you! Happy anniversary week sweetie!”. I stood up and got changed into my white silk nightgown that Ellen was particularly fond of, hence why she packed it. I looked at myself in the mirror, the nightgown sat nicely on my shoulders and elongated my legs but I stared at my stomach in doubt. Before I could react to my own thoughts I felt Ellen’s hand on my lower back. She span me round and kissed me, sleepily groaning, “Come to bed honey” and with that, she enticed me into the soft comfort of the bed and held my hand until we fell asleep.

The following morning, we woke up. I stretched my arms up and curled them tightly around Ellen, I kissed her on the cheek and she slowly came to. I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and the cold chill to the room quickly reminded me we were no longer in sunny LA and were instead in the damp, cold, silvery streets of London. My wife always liked a strong cup of coffee first thing in the morning, so I made one at the traditional British kitchenette in the corner of the huge hotel suite. I left the cup on her bed side table and she rolled over and drank it. “Thank you baby.”

“You’re welcome sweetie, it’s the least I can do after you’ve organised all of this.” She sat upright and put her hand on the back of my head, almost aggressively pulling me towards her, she pressed her mouth firmly to mine and lightly bit my lower lip. I could tell what mood she was in. I felt it too. Ellen rolled onto her back and pulled me on top of her, she pulled my nightgown over my head and poured it to the floor, I straddled her waist. She always liked that and slowly her hips moved towards mine in a circular thrusting motion. She had the most intense look in her eye. The phone rang. I wanted to ignore it but Ellen quickly grabbed it and answered, “Ten minutes?! Sure. Umm. Ok yeah, we’ll be there.” She clearly was surprised and hesitantly annoyed. “What’s up baby.” I queried as I saw the intense look I was previously enamoured with, slowly drain from her mystical eyes. “Sorry to rush us Porsche, but they—er— I booked some sightseeing today and they want to pick us up downstairs in like ten minutes.” I sighed away my libidinous nature with a smile on my face, as I was genuinely excited for the prospect of the day ahead.

By nine thirty in the morning we were walking along Baker Street towards our first location of the morning. Bizarrely we hadn’t been snapped by any paparazzi yet, but I felt their presence was ominously lurking round the corner and they were inevitably waiting to grab a candid shot of us. It was as if London was a sleepier version of LA, I felt comfortable here; Ellen and I could walk down a street (albeit temporarily) and not feel like anyone of interest, just a regular couple that could hold hands in the summer breeze of this timeless city. Having said that, it was evident that people recognised us. The citizens of London were coyly waving at us and smirking, in the classic shyly British sense. It was something I loved about England, there was such a distinctly cynical and yet gracious nature to the people of Britain. They kept themselves to themselves and were thoroughly miserable whilst doing it. I bizarrely loved that about them, it was a trait similarly found in Australians and the comfort of this personality reminded me fondly of home. The home I had tried so desperately to evade for years to gain the success I now had. We had picked up some pace as we walked down the back roads that I knew ran parallel to Baker Street and towards the famous Madame Tussaud’s. A young girl, perhaps only in her late teens bumped into me, she didn’t look up from her phone but did so when I apologised.

“It’s oka—- Portia de Rossi. Oh fuck, you’re Portia de Rossi.” She looked at my wife, “And you’re Ellen.” It made me laugh that no one ever used Ellen’s second name, they only used mine, and when they did they used the wrong one! Changing my name was one of the easiest decisions of my life, I wanted to be hers and be with her in every sense. By changing my name I told the world I was with her and no one else and that we’d be together forever. The young girl asked for a picture with me before Ellen, an occurrence I wasn’t regularly used to. “Arrested Development was literally my favourite program ever. It’s on Netflix right now and I must have seen it 30 times over! I still find hilarious new jokes every time.” She seemed sweet and we discussed the show and Ellen’s show and how it was coming back, we took some photos and said goodbye. As we walked around the corner, we both simultaneously realised that our actions with the fan had alerted the press, a short and slim man raced around the corner, he had clearly been pursuing us a while and the fan’s attention had attracted him to us like a magnet. The long dark lens focused on us like a hawk, it’s menacing eye staring us down. This eye that had tormented me and made me question myself for so many years, and now I was expected to welcome it with open arms.

“Goodbye. Thank you.” My wife sarcastically told the photographer as we entered the main entrance to Madame Tussaud’s. It was early on and the attraction hadn’t yet opened, Ellen had clearly pulled some strings and got us in there before anyone else. She was after all, Ellen Degeneres. My wife and I walked through the building, admiring the rooms packed full of ‘celebrities’, bizarrely, some of our closest friends and acquaintances were there in the wax form. We took what seemed like hundreds of photos next to them, eager to mock and joke with their real counterparts when we arrived back in the US. As we reached the area most prolific with our American friends, we noticed a distinct lack of someone…Ellen.

As the doors opened to the public, I pulled a moisturiser out of my bag and dashed some on both mine and Ellen’s face and the visible parts of our skin. We immediately locked arms and froze into position. The customers spread through the doors and we remained in position, between George Clooney’s model and Nicole Kidman. It was hard to maintain a smile when all I wanted to do was erupt with laughter; the room was filing quickly now and people were darting in and out of us. It was then that a young couple of women put their arms around us to have their picture taken, I realised then at the same split second Ellen did that it was time to reveal ourselves.

The young girls screamed initially with fright until they computed what had actually happened and who we were. Ellen and I fell about the place laughing and the girls were so happy to meet us. I cuddled Ellen and we stayed there taking pictures with fans.

We left Madame Tussaud’s at around midday. my wife bought us lunch at a specialist vegan restaurant we had been recommended and then went back to our hotel suite in order to attempt to sleep off our jet lag. After a quick snack, Ellen and I decided to hop on the tube to get to our next destination. The London Eye. Ellen again allowed us to avoid the queues and treated us to a private ‘pod’ complete with strawberries and a bottle of Moët & Chandon. It was heavenly, we may have been visible to the whole of London and the whole of London was visible to us. It was spectacular. I hadn’t been here since the eye was built and was eager to see the city in all it’s glory, Ellen held my hand and we walked towards the glass. It was a clear night, the palace was shining out across the city, the Houses of Parliament stood defiantly in its surroundings. The city blended history with modern culture perfectly and it was evident along the Thames, the banking quarter ran along to the magnificent Wembley Stadium. Ellen lent against the glass and looked at our intertwined hands, she twirled my wedding ring around my fingers and simply said “I love you.” As I went to reply, she pulled me towards her and kissed me. She traced my lips with her tongue and gently pulled away gently, holding her nose against mine and told me, “I know.” I laughed at her, this was her way of joking to wind me up. I knew she was kidding and loved me back really, this was just Ellen’s way of lightening the mood. I admired London, I hadn’t been here in nearly fifteen years; those fifteen years have been such an incredible rollercoaster. So many downs have culminated in the experiences that I needed to hit my ups, the ultimate ‘up’ being meeting Ellen. Ellen was throwing her wide and childish smile in my direction, she was hiding something, a surprise she so desperately wanted to reveal. I could tell the reason she was biting her lip was to prevent herself telling me what it was, but when I looked her back in the eye, except I noticed she was actually looking directly at me…she was looking over my shoulder at something. As I looked over at the other pods on the eye, I noticed that they were empty. I had been so oblivious from the power and intoxicating essence of my wife that I hadn’t taken into consideration who else was nearby or around us. Any other time I would have been so uptight and cautious with my privacy and public persona that I would have displayed very little affection towards my wife despite how much I ached to do so. Yet since the moment out plane left the runway in LA I have wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off, throw her down and make love to her. I had been kissing her all over, touching her all night without a care in the world. Was it this remarkable city that had liberated me from my self conscious nightmare or was it simply the outstanding allure of my dearest Ellen. I hadn’t noticed anyone around us all night. Ellen had booked out the entire London Eye. How she had managed to do this was one thing, how much it had cost, I didn’t even want to think about. She was such an incredibly thoughtful woman When I turned to see what my darling wife was looking at I noticed the pod next to us was the only other pod that wasn’t in fact empty and I recognised every single person on board; Ellen had flown my entire family out to London for our anniversary.

Ellen and I spent the next day with my family. My mum had created a photo album to celebrate the special occasion, it had baby photos of mine and Betty had collaborated with her and added some baby photos of El too. They’d added photos of us from the night we met all the way up to the most recent photo that the ‘waiter’ at the restaurant had taken of us. They had created the most stunning compilation of photos and created a gorgeous double page spread collage of our wedding day. The photos were specifically chosen because they were candid shots of us that they had taken, they weren’t the professional, deliberately taken shots, they were the deepest, most intimate personal photos of the entire day. Photos from the day that only we and our mothers had seen. On each page they had written special notes to the both of us, Betty had written notes about her two daughters and my mother had written notes describing how she felt that Ellen and I were beautiful and represented true love. My mother beamed enthusiastically on the day of our anniversary, I had spent a considerable amount of time with her in London over the last few days. My brother and her had been sightseeing and playing the tourist role for the first few days of the trip and then mother and I had worked on finding the most precious and poignant gift to give my darling Ellen today. We had found it. I was sure that the gift would be perfect and that she would love it as much as I did. Betty and Vance had flown out for the week and arrived not long after my family. Ellen had seen them a fair bit, but Ellen saw the both of the, regularly back at home anyway. The gift was dramatic, oversized and exciting, I felt sure Ellen would appreciate it the way I intended her to; actually physically giving her the gift would be the trickiest part.

Over the few days leading up to our anniversary it was safe to say that Ellen had fallen in love with the hustle and bustle meets quaint and intricate ambience of London. It was evident that she felt a strong buzz within the city, a connection to its values, traditions and ideology. The feeling of ‘fitting in’ wasn’t as important to my wife as it was to me, she celebrated her unique identity and amplified her differences. She stood up for who she was and showed pride and dignity whilst doing so. She obviously felt that the electric city she was immersed in did the same thing too. London was unique. You could be in the iconic and prevalent streets of Westminster, taking in the true atmosphere of the historically enriched city one minute, then 8 minutes later find yourself at a beautiful country estate overlooking a lake inhabited purely by ducks. Ellen loved that about the place. LA provided her with her home comforts, she was content in LA and everything she could ever need was right there waiting for her. She had to be in LA, her life was there and she loved the city for that. But something about London really attached itself to my wife and I could see that although she was never going to permanently be a ‘Londoner’ she certainly had found a city she loved as much as our home. Seeing my Ellen so happy, relaxed and comfortable away from home was endearing. Once upon a time she was afraid to fly, never keen on the idea of leaving her comforts of home and yet now this new invigorating experience was making her almost as happy as ever before. I loved London and always had done since I lived there. Something about it ignited a deep element of creativity within my soul, I recognised its beauty and it helped stimulate my imagination. That evening Ellen told me she had her last surprise set for me.

“Hurry up honey!” Ellen was getting agitated with my dreadful estimation at how long it would take me to get ready. She asked me to dress formally as we were going to grab dinner in the restaurant in the hotel before we headed out to the destination of the last surprise. “Ok. I’m ready baby.” I walked round through the bedroom door to the living space area of our accommodation where my wife stood waiting. Ellen had her back to me but I knew the outfit she was wearing just by the navy colour of the jacket. A she turned around I sharply inhaled air, she looked amazing. Her hair was placed perfectly, slightly flicked up to a point, messy but not in an unkempt manner, she looked flawless.

“Oh Porshe. You look…just wow.” I had worn a floor length black dress which held at one shoulder, I wore a slight heel but not much as my wife preferred to be the taller of us. Ellen’s eyes were serious yet excited. It was the lustful, loving and kind look I had witnessed at the alter on this day four years ago. Her passion and earth radiated through her eyes tonight and I could tell we were in for an incredible night.

Dinner was stupendous. We ate very little and talked very little too. It was much reminiscent of our first date, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the flawless goddess I sat opposite. I questioned how someone so astoundingly perfect would ever be interested in such a flawed and overly complicated person like myself. I loved everything about this woman. Ellen could do no wrong in my eyes. In my eyes she was the divinity that religious people spent their life seeking, she was the image of perfection and the feeling of completeness that I so desperately needed within my life. She is everything to me.

We left the restaurant and headed towards the enthusiastically lit banks of the muddy river Thames. Betty, Vance, my brother Michael and my mother were headed out for an early dinner before they went to see the musical ‘Wicked!’. I doubted wee would be meeting them there as neither myself or Ellen were ever particularly enamoured with musicals. Sure, we enjoyed them but they were never my preference for evenings out, nor Ellen’s. I knew the surprise would involve tickets tonight, as that was what Ellen had slid into her sunglasses case which she obviously had put in my purse for me to carry. We walked along the riverbank on a surprisingly warm evening for the UK. The sun had almost gone but the warm summer air made walking along the bank holding my love’s hand feel like a dream. Ellen’s hand grasped mine as tightly as ever, she looked at me and kissed me on the cheek, “I love you” she told me and I replied with the same.

“I love you” was something we said so often yet there was no need. I felt Ellen’s love for me every moment of everyday and that’s what makes her such an incredible wife and lover. I felt sure she felt the same way. She knew I loved her. I pulled her closer to my body, her arm and mine were pressed against each other as we each reflected the other’s smile. I felt the ultimate feeling of completion. I needed nothing more in the world than Ellen by my side, holding my and and promising to love me forever.

As we walked a short distance I saw a boat docked on the river. It was a small speedboat and as we walked nearer towards it I noticed the boat’s name, “Portia”. Ellen helped me climb on board in my heels and dress and proceeded to grab the steering wheel. Thank god the temperature was above average for the UK tonight, otherwise I’d have hugely regretted not bringing my coat. Having said that, it wasn’t long before Ellen draped her velvet blazer over my shoulders as she powered the boat along the Thames. She offered me champagne and strawberries as we pulled the over to bob gently along for a moment. I smiled at her graciously as I accept the offer. I anted so badly to reveal the present I had arranged for her, but didn’t want to spoil the fun of her surprise present for me now. We didn’t speak, there was no need. We simply watched the sunset in the distance until she remarked, “Time to go! We can’t be late!” I was excited but suitably relaxed at this point. The cool, refreshing air on the boat had made me feel sleepy to a point, but the adrenaline of my anniversary made me feel like I never wanted to sleep for fear of such an incredible day being over. I just hoped Ellen liked her present. If I had read her signs correctly over the last few days, she would love it. If I hadn’t, it could be a disaster. But I doubted that, my bond with my wife was far too strong for that to ever happen.

Ellen brought the boat into dock in front of the world famous Globe Theatre. A favourite London landmark of mine, I had always wanted to see a play performed in this prestigious home of Shakespeare but I had never had the time or money to afford such a luxurious injection of culture. How had Ellen known this? As we stepped off the boat she noticed my awestruck face. “Excited?” She queried.

“Are you kidding me?! How could you possibly know?!” As I interrogated her, I noticed the posters outside the main entrance and saw the play we would be seeing. I was even more awestruck. “The Merchant of Venice” was the play that had literally given me my name, the heroic female character Portia was always a favourite of mine, hence when I reached the tender age of fifteen, I thought it would be an appropriate name choice for myself. It would give me the fresh, exciting new identity I longed for. It was my favourite Shakespeare play and Ellen certainly knew that. I burst into tears. I told Ellen how incredible she was, how perfect and divine she was and how much I loved her. I was the luckiest woman alive.

Chapter 5 - Portia’s Turn

Ellen and I decided we would walk back through the quieter streets of London after we had seen the most memorable and exhilarating performance of my life. Stage acting had always inspired me, but I was never drawn to it personally. I just preferred to be able to retake each shot and ensure perfection was throughout all of my work, I guess I was a perfectionist to an extent. We walked the whole way back through the now quieter streets. London was a relatively compact city, every five minutes we were confronted with another stunning, iconic landmark and Ellen would admire it and I could see her fall more and more in love with the city.

We arrived back at the hotel bar at eleven in the evening. There were a few people in there, noticeably more couples than anything with a table of smartly dressed business men tucked into the corner. Every so often they would erupt into a loud raucous of laughter. There were numerous empty drinks on their table and three of them were noticeable drunk, they were subtly swaying and were visibly louder than their peers. As Ellen swept into the room she suddenly gained the entire room’s attention as she always does. The men actively turned to look at her before one of them (arguably, the most drunken of the group) shouted, “Fuck! That’s Ellen. Where’s your wife?”. Ellen always reacted in the best way possible to these things, she wouldn’t have taken offence to that, there was no reason to, he wasn’t being homophobic, he literally was just interested to see me. That’s when I walked in. The men wolf whistled and Ellen retorted with a simple, “I know right?” The guys laughed and bought us some drinks. Every time I saw Ellen she was falling more and more in love with London and the people of the city, they weren’t harsh and outright like New Yorkers, they weren’t distant and cold like Angeleanos, nor were they overly friendly and irritating. They carried a great sense of humour and although often sarcastic they were altogether kind, Ellen found this refreshing and relatable. London was clearly her kind of place. As we sat at the bar I held her hand and placed my other hand on her thigh. I partially expected the previously rowdy men to acknowledge this in an overtly sexual manner, but they didn’t. They looked but didn’t comment and be Ellen and I appreciated that.

We finished our drinks and I led my wife upstairs, we took the elevator to the fourth floor which our room resided on. Ellen and I were the only people in the elevator, so I took the liberty of kissing her ferociously. I was overcome by an animalistic urge to kiss my wife. We continued to kiss until we opened the door to our room, when I began to rip her clothes off her. Layer by layer they tumbled to the floor, as did we. I slowed down and kissed her on the neck, gently thrusting my tongue against her gorgeous smelling neck in an sensual and indicative manner. She knew what I wanted and she knew I would get what I wanted. She slid my dress off my shoulders and it landed on the floor, I stood opposite her as her eyes widened at the sight of me.

“Now it’s time for your first surprise.” I seductively told her. I pushed her to the bed and straddled her in the same way I had earlier, I moved my hips in the same circular thrusting motion I had earlier and she did the same. We locked eyes and intensely made eye contact for a few minutes, the pleasure of our movement was causing me to moan slightly. I leaned my head down towards hers, we lightly kissed and she smoothly moved her hands up to gently caress my breasts causing me to breathe more and more heavily. I pulled my legs together and was simply laying on top of her now, we were writhing together in perfect time, I slid down her naked body so that my mouth was at her naval. Gently kissing her stomach made her thrust her hips slowly back and forth, I looked to her face, her eyes were closed as she was so heavily immersed in the intimacy and pleasure of our love making. I kissed her between her thighs and she rocked her hips into my face, at first my slowly thrusting tongue was alluring the sweet, soft moans out of my wife and when I used my lips she began to say my name over and over again. She was massaging her fingers through my hair which encouraged me even more, she squeezed tightly around my fingers and the repetitive thrusts I gave her made her scream and scream, using both my mouth and fingers was bringing her closer to where I wanted her to be. I curled my finger inside her and thrust once more. She screamed once more as I heard her breath leave her in one almighty gasp, she immediately relaxed and pulled me towards her mouth for the most passionate kiss of my life. Her tongue graced mine and the sensuality of our relationship was echoed by the movement of our tongues. We cuddled until we fell asleep.

The morning after I woke Ellen up early, she had a big day ahead of her, but didn’t quite know it yet. As per usual I woke her with her strong coffee and she smiled and kissed me, a shiver rippled down my spine at her touch and the electricity sent me spinning. I regained focus as she got up and dressed. Ellen pulled on a black polo shirt and white cargo pants, she looked adorable and the Nike trainers she added really complimented the outfit.

“El, we gotta go for a walk. I’ve got something to show you.” I realised my voice may have sounded more solemn and sincere than I initially intended it. I had organised an exciting surprise for Ellen, but both surprises I had organised left me with an element of scepticism. Ellen could completely hate both, but I sensed she wouldn’t and I hope my risk would pay off. I checked my phone and saw my most recent text, “Ready for you.” Ellen was ready now, she gave me her phone as per usual and I lead her out of the hotel and walked across the street. I hailed for a cab and we got in. I rattled my fingers on the window of the car and Ellen sensed my nervousness, “Baby…are you ok?” she seemed genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, sorry…that coffee was just a hit too strong for me this morning, it’s made me jittery.” I giggled at her to deflect from my nerves. She squinted her eyes and me and smiled at me suspiciously as we pulled round the corner. I paid the cab driver and we got out of the car. Ellen looked confused as we stood overlooking the Thames and with nothing in particular in sight. I took her hand and let her towards an alleyway, halfway down that alleyway we heard “And here she is now, it’s Ellen DeGeneres!”

The look of panic that flashed across Ellen’s face was priceless; I smiled back at her, hoping to reassure her…. when I realised that hadn’t worked I told her, “I’ve got this one baby.” I led the way and when the crowd saw us both, they erupted into the loudest cheer I’d ever heard. Laughing, I took to the centre stage, now the nerves really set in. It was now that I realised how hard my wife’s job was. As I faced the large outdoor audience they gazed upon me with such expectation. Ellen held my hand tightly, she felt my nerves and I felt the overwhelming support she wanted to give me. “Thank you guys! Have a seat.” I stole Ellen’s “Straight back at you” as I heard the odd shout of “Portia I love you!”. I let go of Ellen’s hand and gestured for her to take a seat on the front row. “So hey, how’re you all doing?” They cheered again. “That’s good, that’s really good. So as you can probably tell, I’m not Ellen. And as some of you may know, yesterday was mine and Ellen’s fourth wedding anniversary” the enthusiastic audience cheered and clapped yet again, even louder this time. I smiled in gratitude towards them, “So basically, today is gonna be a celebration of Ellen because she deserves it. And I know this show is technically called ‘The Ellen DeGeneres Show’ and you guys figure the show should feature her hosting a fair bit but I’m afraid you’re gonna have to make do with me for the majority of the show, while we celebrate the amazing woman I’ve been married to for the most amazing four years of my life. Of course these past four years have featured in the show somewhat, Ellen has embarrassed me numerous times. Most notably when she dragged me on the show to try and work out what that damn animal I saw was. We have since identified it as…nothing.” The crowed murmured a giggle and I relaxed somewhat. “She’s highlighted my clumsy nature, pushing sliding doors, wearing the wrong slippers. But now Ellen, my darling, it’s time for my revenge.” I stood for a moment as the crowd laughed and I spread a exuberant grin across my face, they knew something funny or embarrassing was about to happen. “So our official honeymoon those four years ago was back home in Beverley Hills, granted it wasn’t the most exciting trip of our lives but Ellen resorted to her friends Mr Jack Daniels and his close companion Diet Coke to liven the night up a bit. These two lead Ellen into creating her wedding gift to me. Ellen thought it’d be a good idea to write me a song…so here we go.” I showed the video and the crowd fell about laughing, Ellen ran up and grabbed me around the hips, joking only tackling me and tickling me. She kissed me and we hugged, the crowd continuously cheered.

The show was a triumph and Ellen loved it, we were pleased to excite the audience with the news that the show would be there for the next week before we fly home. It was the weekend after today so Ellen had time to relax and prepare for the week of shows ahead, she was excited, I could tell. The prospect of staying in London evidently excited her and bringing the show to a whole different range of fans was something I knew she would enjoy. I still had the bigger surprise to reveal to her yet. This was the more dramatic and scary complex in my mind, I was sure she’d be grateful for the gesture but I didn’t know how much she would genuinely appreciate it.

We left the set and I took Ellen out for a pub lunch in one of the oldest riverside pubs on the Thames. I’ve always loved the traditional British or Australian pubs and they were something Ellen wasn’t familiar with at all, I felt they were something she should definitely be introduced to. I figured she’d appreciate the old fashioned, friendly nature of the pub. It was right up Ellen’s street. I deliberately sat us in a booth in the back corner of the pub, next to a picture of a small, thatched cottage with a blue door that beautifully complimented Ellen’s eyes as she looked at it. Every other photo or picture within the entirety of the pub was noticeably older and Ellen curiously acknowledged that. “That picture looks kinda out of place dun’ it?” I laughed and smiled, I was hoping she’d notice it; it was integral to the final surprise. “That’s because it’s not usually there honey.” She wasn’t listening. “Ellen? Are you actually listening to me?” She was busy eating.

“Yeah. I’m listening but you’re talking crap.” Ellen knew she was winding me up and so she playfully carried on. “What are you on about?” I smiled as I shook my head at her. I took her hand and clasped hers in mine and gently stroked them, I looked down at our intertwined hands and inhaled, ready to tell her the news. “Ellen. That’s ours.” My wife put down her spoon and look directly into my eyes. “It’s 17th century, a former farmhouse. It’s called ‘Lee Cottage’ and is a half hour outside of the city. I thought it’d be a great holiday home for us when we wanna come visit London again?” Ellen smiled so much that she burst into tears.

Chapter 6 – Lee Cottage

We arrived at Lee Cottage in the mid evening on the Friday night and we wouldn’t be leaving until the evening on Sunday, when we would revert back to the busy nature of central London. As Ellen entered I saw her face light up; I had decorated the whole house with memories of us and photos close to our hearts. Andy had run ahead and added a couple of extra shots that we’d taken this past week. The lighting was relatively low and the fire was starting to build in the grand mahogany fireplace that was surrounded by flowers that I had hung around it earlier that day, fairy lights framed the mirror above the fireplace and made everything that extra touch special. The décor echoed the style we had set in our home just earlier this year, the colour scheme was similar and I had added some hints of blue and red to the furniture to reflect Ellen’s favourite colour and to hopefully induce some more of the passion I’d experienced all week, with the colour red. I had a lamp ready at the side of the couch which gently lit a gift that was wrapped underneath it, it was tricky to buy Ellen a gift but I figured something for this holiday home would be appropriate. So I did, I knew she’d like it when she saw it. Ellen was astonished by the house. The cottage was so perfect for us. It was nicely tucked away in the middle of nowhere but close enough to the nearest town to allow us to go for long strolls to the local tea room. We wouldn’t need to face the photographers every time we walked out of our front door, instead we would be greeted by rolling hills and blackberry bushes. The lounge was relatively big and took up the majority of the downstairs, there was a dining room attached and next door was a quaint farmhouse kitchen. The bedroom was lit again by fairy lights, but these were multicoloured and stretched across the ceiling, forming a cross. Rose petals covered the bed and the head board was framed by photographs, much like the rest of the house. “Portia, honey, this is too much. This is amazing.” She emotionally explained. Ellen sat on the couch and stretched out, clearly trying to comprehend this. “I thought you’d like it baby. There’s a house warming gift by the lamp for you.” My wife turned to face the present and picked it up, she shock it slightly, trying to second guess what the gift was. “It’s just something for the kitchen, you’ll love it!” She quickly unwrapped it, to reveal a pot of vegemite.

“Wow. Gee…honey. Thanks.” Ellen sarcastically quipped. She giggled and cuddled me, saying “You’re amazing.” We cuddled there for a while, she was perfect. Then the lights shut out.