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Crossover from Hell: Dinner Party	By : jediragsniffer Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 933 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Crossover from Hell: Dinner Party
- 1
T'was sometime in March that Dexy and Ida decided to live up to their reputation and write a Sue. After all, their other female OC stories had been pegged as Sues; why not do it right? Meet the Sues:

Jedi Knight Ida Talath: The plainest alien princess ever to complete her Padawan training.

Dexy McKenna: Foul-mouthed pessimistic winged psychic. She sees dead people. She's short, too

We failed at creating Sues. We actually came up with interesting, complex characters. Fools, we. However, we have begun to spin what we feel is a most entertaining yarn. If you want a good laugh (and an occasional spot of good writing), look no further. Here's the short and sweet of it:

Fandoms: Lord of the Rings, X-Men, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Van Helsing, X-Files, etc.
Warnings: Slash, Sex, Slashy Sex, Het Sex, Narcissistic Sex…, Trucker Tongues, blatant disregard to canon, and a bastardization of Fox Mulder that a thousand apologies will never amend.
Oh, did I mention Orlando Bloom? This is the love and laugh at Orlando Bloom hour, Prime Time. If chuckles at Orli's expense is your cup of tea, tune in!

Disclaimer: George owns most of what we’re messing with, Tolkien owns a bit as well, and the rest of the copyrighted material will belong to J.K Rowling, Chris Carter and Twentieth Century Fox, and Marvel Comics (though not necessarily in that order). For the hell t wet we’ll mention Bruckheimer, and Mickey. Orlando Bloom is his own person. The events in this story are complete fiction. I repeat: none of what is mentioned in this story happened. It’s fiction. In short: Roses are Red, Violets are blue, and the recognizable is not ours, so please don’t sue. Any similarity between this story and others is purely coincidental.

This is an epilogue shitfic! loop for the epic pos, "Crossover From Hell." Spun from Plot bunn(ies) that simply would not fuck off and die. It's Legorli centric. Tell us what you think! Flames welcome!

NOTE: This is an AU of The CFH universe. Dexy's pregnancy is an as yet undecided venture. We know it doesn't make sense, but we don't fucking care.

~~

The cozy flat gradually illuminated, English garden aromas permeating the air as Orlando scurried about with a matchbook, lighting tapers and votives throughout. Lilac and lavender battled silently to be the dominant perfume in the apartment, both losing out to the tantalizing aroma of sirloin steaks and seasoned potatoes being meticulously prepared in the kitchen.

Orlando scuttled there next, peering over a tall shoulder and watching clever ivory hands delicately garnishing still-empty plates with sprigs of various herbs and sprinklings of different spices that had been grown in their balcony greenhouse – a mystical feat, given March’s enduring winter chill – and which were intended not to flavor the already palatable meal, but to appeal to the senses of those who partook of it.

“Don’t drug them,” Orlando grumbled, plucking a few of the elven fronds from the plates.

His lover pursed his kble ble lips in a noble suppression of sheer hilarity. “Isn’t that what you were aiming for?” he quipped, gesturing to the plethora of pink and purple candles.

“Legolas, please. This is important to me. I want us to make a good impression.”

“On whom? Your sister? Don’t you think we’ve made enough of an impression on her?” His veiled reference to the open act of their first coupling a few months prior, witnessed by all and sundry including Orlando’s baby sister, caused a burning blush to climb the smooth column of the actor’s neck. Legolas thought it positively adorable.

“She hasn’t seen us like *this.* She doesn’t know what we’re like. Please, Legolas.”

The elf had a mind to laugh at his whining pleas, but knew his love enough to acknowledge the note of desperation in his voice. “All right, Penneth. Don’t fret.” Cupping his clean-shaven cheek, he pressed a tender kiss to Orlando’s flushed forehead. “Everything will be perfect.”

~*~*~

“Stop scowling.”

Logan rolled his eyes. The twinkle of amusement in her honeyed gaze irked him, but the stunning smile that accompanied her soft command eliminated any real notion of annoyance. “I don’t see why I had to come.”

“Show of faith. It’s a nice gesture. I missed him at Christmas. Besides, why would you spend the night away from me if you didn’t have to?” Lifting his hand to her mouth, she kissed his knuckles where their fingers were laced as they arrived at Orli’s apartment door.

“Hmph.” Rapping out a sharp, adamantium-enhanced knock, Logan resigned himself to what would likely be a torturous evening dining with Dexy’s prissypants brother.

And his extraterrestrial elven lover. Couldn’t forget ol’ Legs.

Dexy sighed, sliding her beau a clandestine look of grateful adoration before the door opened and they were invited in by the former Jedi.

When he rose to greet her from what was once her own plush red armchair, Dexy couldn’t help but grin at her brother. Orlando looked good. In his dark turtleneck and designer jeans, he positively resembled a Manhattan metrosexual, but the healthy glow of his cheeks and radiant gleam of his smile put any reservations she may have had to quick waste. The apartment positively reeked of fuckin’ flowers, and she guessed that was the elf’s feminine touch at work, but if the payoff was her brother’s happiness, Dexy supposed she could stomach the stifling odor.

Logan, on the other hand, looked about ready to retch. The poor mutant’s heightened sense of smell occasionally worked against him, and now was one of those times.

“Um…” Dexy cleared her throat, “Lando, could you…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Legolas quickly offered, using the dimmer to set a low light in the room before expertly extinguishing the dozens of flickering flames save the six tapers on the dining room table.

“Thanks,” came Wolvie’s rumble of appreciation, though his dark eyes spoke of his lingering distaste for the elf with whom he’d sparred.

“Think nothing of it.” Said elf’s curt, begrudging reply.

Clearing his throat to cut the tension, Orlando pulled Dexy into his arms for a brotherly embrace before entreating her to remove her coat. She did, peeling off the ankle-length leather to reveal her snug grey dress pants, black cashmere sweater, and of course, her wings, freed by the sweater’s plunging open back.

Orlando grinned; she looked great. Thank God for that. Of se, se, he’d bought her that sweater…

“Legolas? Will you fetch a few glasses of Burgundy? Would you rather a beer?” he checked with Logan quickly, and receiving an affirmation, added, “And a Molson for Logan. Oh, and bring out the hors d’œuvres.”

Legolas blinked. “All right, Penneth.” Masking his annoyance, he retreated to do his young lover’s bidding.

Still grinning, Orlando sat down on the couch with his sister, while Logan plunked down in the armchair. Conversation quickly turned to work, Orlando rambling on about this audition and that agent, until Legolas wandered over with the wineglasses and the carefully arranged appetizer.

“Thank you, Precious,” Orlando purled.

Legolas’ nostrils flared. He artfully managed to keep his displeasure in check, and settled himself on the loveseat, quietly drinking his wine.

Reaching for her glass, Dexy hesitated. “You know what? I probably shouldn’t, right?”

“Oh, bloody hell, I forgot. You aren’t showing yet.”

She smiled a bit. “It’s early still. I’m only four months along.”

“Have you given any thought to names?” Orlando asked eagerly, interested in the side of becoming an uncle that would involve clothes and presents and idolatry. “Oh, Legolas? Can you get my sister a glass of white grape juice instead? She can’t drink, she’s pregnant.”

Blink. “Okay…” Back to the kitchen.

“Well,” she began, glancing askance to Logan, who was giving the peculiar looking crab-stuffed mushroom caps a skeptical sniff. “Considering he’s going to be the future guardian of both mankind and the underworld, I figure we ought to pick something strong. Unique yet traditional.” “Wh “Who said it’s going to be a ‘he’?” Logan grumbled, deciding against sampling the weird little brown balls. Elf food likely, and he wasn’t fucking touching it.

Dexy rolled her eyes. “Logan wants a girl. What the fuck *I* would do with a girl, I don’t know. Thank you,” she interposed, accepting the glass Legolas offered her with a smile. “So I haven’t given much thought to girls’ names. But I’m thinking Xavier or Gabriel, or some combination of the two.”

Orlando’s face twisted into a horrified grimace. Not for *his* nephew. “Those are faggy names. What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Legolas’ jaw clenched. In his short time on Earth, he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to learn the intricacies of colloquial English.

He *had,* however, become acquainted with THAT word.

~**Excuse me, Penneth. Are you *ashamed* of me?**~

Not so much as a glance. His temper flaring, Legolas gritted his teeth against his fury, trying to convince himself that Orlando was simply nervous. He’d promised to behave, after all.

But his lover’s blatant disregard and dissension would quickly become a punishable offense.

“Fuck you, Lando. Would you rather I name him Butch?”

“I’m partial to Seth.”

A visible shudder from Weapon X quickly abolished that suggestion.

“I think dinner’s probably about ready,” Legolas announced, the words tight, and Dexy fired her soon-to-be-husband a curious glance. What the fuck was that about?

Logan simply shrugged. How the hell should I know?

The couples sat across from one another at the beautifully arranged maple dining table, and Logan took a moment to gaze appreciatively at his soul mate in the low glow of candlelight. Glimpsing the soft smoldering glint of her amber irises in the orangey illumination, he took a moment and drew a breath, stifling the sudden urge to mate. His eyes shifting between the actress and the elf, he found the impulse well quashed. How these two dogs could fuck one another, he would never understand. But hey, more power to ‘em.

Dexy, on the other hand, was giving thoughtful consideration to the dynamic between her brother and his love interest. She had grown entirely accustomed to Orlando the Bachelor, and this newfound monogamy of his baffled her, though not as much as she may have admitted. She had always expected that Lando would find happiness with a male lover despite his long-fought resistance, although of course no one could have expected that embracing his sexuality would effectually save the world from complete annihilation.

Christ, that must have given him such an ego.

Still, there was something curious about the way they treated one another, and Dexy’s intuition told her what she witnessed was an untruth, a little façade for her benefit.

She shook her head; stupid Orlando.

“We pegged you a meat and potatoes man,” Lando quipped to Logan, earning a laconic smirk from his sister.

“You pegged right.”

“It smells incredible,” Dexy began, baiting a bit and watching for a reaction. “Did you cook this, Legolas?”

The elf nodded, a proud smile beginning to play at his lips before Orlando interjected, “Yes, Legolas does all the cooking around here. God knows I’m useless in the kitchen.”

Her shoulders quave wit with a small chuckle she barely managed to quell, Dexy focused on Logan a moment, until he, too, caught on to her little observation and had to force down a snicker. He took up his knife and quickly cut into his meat before he lost his composure, a significant threat with Dex’s eyes dancing the way they were.

“You always ,” s,” she teased, before confessing, “not that I’m any better.”

“Well, you’ll have to be, becoming a wife,” Orlando declared, and Dexy just about choked on her first bite of Legolas’ impeccably seasoned red bliss potatoes. “Woman’s work and all.”

The sound of his cloth napkin hitting the table was surprisingly loud for what should have been a soundless occurrence, and Dexy couldn’t resist the compulsion to spare a glance in the angered Jedi’s direction. His gaze icy, he stared absolute daggers at her brother, white fingers working furiously against the edge of the table where he gripped it.

Oh, shit.

“Your sister is pregnant,” the elven prince spoke through clenched teeth. “Are you going to tell her *our* good news?”

Orlando’s eyes went wide. His cheeks reddened. His hands shook.

The silence that followed was, for all intents and clichéd purposes, deafening.

“That does it.” Legolas stood, uttering a foreign oath. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”

Dexy nodded. Logan shrugged.

Orli didn’t budge.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Terror coursing through his very veins, Orlando diffidently complied.

~*~*~

Dexy stared at her half-eaten meal a moment, straining to hear what transpired in the other room. Curse it, not a damn word. Resting her chin against her fist, she emitted a little sigh. “Poor Lando.”

“Yup.”

“He’s obviously so uncomfortable with this still. I wonder why he lets it get to him. I’m his sister, after all, and I thought he was closer with me than anyone else. He should be able to share these things with me.”

“Yup.”

“I mean, just because he’s bottoming for another man doesn’t mean I’m going to think him any less masculine, any less my brother. That’s a stupid notion and whatever got it in his head, he needs to get it the fuck out.”

“Yup.”

“It is kind of charming to see, though, you know, the two of them together like this. It’s sweet. He’s acting like a dick, but I can tell Lando’s happy.”

Cough. “Yup.”

“I just wish he would act like himself instead of like such a jerkoff. Poor Legolas, getting dicked around all night.”

Beat. “Don’t worry about Legolas. He’s not the one getting dicked around anymore.”

Dexy raised a brow, finally noticing her beau’s uneasy posture. He looked downright uncomfortable, strange considering they were alone… Oh, good God. “You can hear them.”

“Yup.”

“What are they saying?”

He shifted, giving his knuckles an awkward crack. “Like I said. Legs ain’t the one getting dicked around now.”

~*~*~

Orlando emerged from the bedroom first, thoroughly disheveled and slightly disoriented, one hand gingerly rubbing the back of his head where his Pantene locks had been roughly grasped to hold his head in place. Legolas followed, evidently unruffled, clothing and hair still perfectly arranged, though the sated smirk he wore told of a quickly won conquest.

An invisible hook of halfhearted smugness tugged at Logan’s left eyebrow and the left corner of his mouth in unison. Yup. Told you so.

Dexy merely shook her head.

The lovers resumed their seats across from one another, Legolas immediately taking up his wineglass for a small swig while Orlando gaped uncomfortably at his plate. Dex’s heart went out to him, though the pathetic little shit had clearly gotten what he deserved.

“Legolas and I… have an announcement to make.”

Dexy perked up in her chair, while Logan simply tipped his beer bottle to his mouth. He’d already heard it – at least, he’d heard the order to give the announcement.

“Legolas and I are…” Gulp. “Getting married.”

“What? Lando, that’s wonderful!”

But Orli offered her no reply, his _expression unchanged. He wasn’t finished speaking. “I’m to be Mr. Orlando Greenleaf.”

Her attention shifted to Legolas, whose chin was raised at an angle of arrogant satisfaction, before returning to her brother. “Congratulations,” she replied cheerily, realizing that Logan probably wanted to slit his own wrists and spend the rest of the evening healing. “Hey,” she whispered suddenly, noticing the nervous twitch in her brother’s jaw and reaching out to graze her fingers over the back of his hand. “It’s cool, Lando. Stop fucking worrying about it.”

His eyes pleaded with her for the acceptance she’d already granted, and she decided he much resembled an embarrassed child having recently endured a life lesson. “It’s cool?”

“Completely cool. Right, Logan?” she chanted, sacrificing her impervious leman’s comfort to assuage her brother’s unease.

Jesus, girl. “Yup.”

Orlando seemed to relax a bit, finally venturing a peek at Legolas, whose _expression was also one of reassurance. Straightening in his chair, he heaved a sigh of silent thanks, and reclaimed his utensils.

Legolas restrained a chuckle. The poor darling would have to acclimate himself to the public face of monogamy and right quick if he intended to avoid further discomfiture and humiliation. In the meantime, the Jedi decided, he would thoroughly enjoy dishing it out. After all, that fiery blush was irresistibly endearing…

The rest of the evening progressed without a hitch, Dexy expediently disarming her brother once more and engaging him in hours of laugh-laced conversation. Which Legolas admired, and Logan tolerated. And when at last Dexy decided to whisk her wolverine back to their hotel for the evening, Legolas and Orlando walked them to the door hand-in-hand.

“Goodnight, Dex,” Orlando bid her softly, giving her small body an affectionate squeeze. “Fuck, it was good seeing you.”

“It was good seeing you, Lando. Hopefully it won’t be so long before I see you next. We might move up here, you know. Depending on things.” She glanced casually at Logan, who scowled a bit. Ah, well, they were leaving. If he wanted to scowl now, he could.

“That would be incredible. We’ll, uh, invite you to the wedding, of course.” He colored. Legolas grinned.

“You’d better. Goodnight, Legolas,” she added politely, before turning and heading for the door.

Logan stopped her. “I, uh,” he started, the words directed at the former Jedi. “I’m sorry about…” He gestured vaguely with his hand, the halfhearted wave intended to represent the whole of their dispute months prior.

Legolas nodded, diplomatic and ungrudging. “As am I.”

Dexy delighted in their cessation of silent hostilities, knowing full well that Logan didn’t need another enemy, least of all one who would soon become his brother-in-law. Oh, that was rich. She’d have to tease him about it later.

Orlando watched the intimidating man drape an arm over his sister’s shoulders and guide her out, their striking difference in height conjuring up unwelcome reminders of the nightmares he’d suffered back in October. When the door closed behind them, he felt Legolas’ familiar hand on his shoulder, fingertips touching his pulse point before an overwhelming calm surrounded him.

“She’s happy, Penneth. He treats her well.”

“Yes.”

“As I treat you well.”

“Yes.”

“And we shall want for nothing they have.” His practiced hand settled atop Orlando’s stomach, and the younger man nearly choked.

“You don’t mean you…” Panic gripped him, talons of outright fear digging into his chest.

Legolas laughed uninhibitedly. “My silly mortal boy. You’re lucky I find you irresistibly cute.”

~*~*~

Crossover From Hell. Want to know how it all began? Send us an email and we’ll add you to the mailing list archive. The website is still under construction.

jediragsniffer@yahoo.com
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Crossover from Hell: Dinner Party