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Vengeance	By : Tragictales Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 1320 -:- 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.

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Elijah watched silently as Dave rose from his seat, paced, then sat back down for the umpteenth time that day. His fingers tapped idly on the smooth surface of the table in Conference room 26 B of the New York City field office. The room had otherwise been deemed the ‘shit’ room by other agents in the same nasty pool of water he and Dave sat in. Many a time here in this room an agent was given his walking papers, simply told ‘Perhaps this isn’t the job for you.’ Elijah worried this might be their case and he assumed Dave was thinking the same thing from the way he huffed each time he sat back down.

Rise, pace, and take a seat.

Lather, rinse, and repeat.

Elijah glanced at the standard black and silver watch on his wrist pulling the sleeves back down when he was finished. The Assistant Director in Charge had called them both early that morning, forcing them to surrender any hopes of getting some a decent amount of sleep before heading out to work. ADIC Mardell didn’t tolerate tardiness and so the pair had arrived a full twenty minutes early, allowing themselves a few cups of black coffee to wake them up.

Elijah stiffened when the door opened and in the doorway appeared a stern looking man perhaps in his early to late forties, depending on if you were going on for compliments to save your ass or the real truth. He had short-cut blonde hair and green eyes, with creases around his face to mark the fact that he wasn’t incapable of just this one stern expression. He wore what Elijah and Dave wore, dark suit, matching tie and black shoes. He carried with him two manila folders each equally thick looking from what Elijah could see. The young man exchanged a look with his partner when Dave took his seat beside him.

“Gentlemen,” the new arrival said smiling at them in a genuine greeting falsified by the severity of his green eyes. He walked steadily with a gracefulness no man of his size should possess and pulled back one of the stiff-backed chairs across from them. He set the files on the table, laying them out side by side then adjusting his jacket as he sat down.

He pulled one of the files towards, him beginning to read quickly and making affirmative noises when he found something interesting. Elijah and Dave stared on with confusion. Dave felt a sharp jab at his side insistently continuing until he turned around and ground out his annoyance through clenched teeth.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Elijah whispered and Dave shrugged.

“Ask him,” Elijah’s hushed voice almost came out commanding and Dave rolled his eyes as if to say ‘ask him yourself’. The both of them nearly jumped when the man cleared his throat slowly drawing full attention back to himself. Looking more closely at him Elijah decided he wasn’t half bad in the face.

“Agent Wood and Agent Wenham I’m sure you’re well aware of the changes being made to your case as a result of last nights events,” the man began. He spoke easily with confidence not even bothering to look back up after he’d returned to the files before him. There was a hint of British accent wrapping around his words covered by what the two agents guessed were years upon years of living with several different dialects. This time Elijah felt a nudge and he groaned inwardly at Dave’s sudden lack of initiative. He leaned forward remaining collected when he spoke.

“I beg your pardon, sir…” Elijah started when the man’s head snapped up so quickly that Elijah almost lost the words he was about to say. “Who are you?”

The man sat back in his seat looking flummoxed then brightened. “Ah, you were on assignment all day yesterday so you probably haven’t heard the news.”

“What news?” Dave asked suddenly leaning forward in his seat.

“I’m the new Assistant Director in Charge of this jurisdiction I was called in last night when Mardell was taken in. My name is Sean Bean,” Sean said smiling the same false smile as he had before. Dave sucked in a breath sitting back in his seat and looking down at the folders.

“Mardell was taken in--”

“And what do you mean by changes to our case?” Dave questioned, his voice rising louder than he would have liked. Sean sat back in his seat surveying the mess before him. He tapped his chin, looking at the files thoughtfully.

“You do realize Boss Maddox died last night? A victim of eight stab wounds,” Sean said. “Surely you’ve heard about that by now.”

Once again Elijah and Dave fell silent and Sean sighed pushing back his chair and standing up. He grabbed the two files in both hands weighing them as he walked to seat himself on the side of the table right before them.

“We suspect that this was not just some common gang trying to climb their way up the ranks. This was within their network, either in their faction or one of the families. At any rate, now is our time to strike,” Sean said laying emphasis on the ‘our’.

Dave and Elijah both nodded at that one. The thought of Boss Maddox no longer being around was hard to get around for both of them, it meant so much and so little to them all at once. On the one hand he was eliminated, one more thing they didn’t have to worry about, on the other it could mean serious friction between the faction and the families, even with in the faction itself. Who knew what this meant for anyone in that general area. They knew for a fact that no one had been chosen to take Maddox’s place and it was highly likely that there would be trouble.

“I’ve suggested for the both of you to be transferred when we get the reports of where you’ll be needed. I will then pass that information on to you so you can prepare for the move,” Sean said curling both files in his large hands.

“What?” Elijah jumped so quickly from his seat that the chair fell backwards.

“You’re off the case,” Sean said again in a sickeningly cheerful tone, “both of you.”

“You can’t do that!” Dave shouted jumping from his seat as well. “You’ve been here less than a day! You just…can’t…do that.”

Dave sighed at his less than articulate argument not quite sure why he felt this man had just pulled the plug on his entire life. He wanted this thing to be done and over with! He wanted to be as far away from this case as possible.

‘So long at it was on your terms,’ he thought.

Sean’s green eyes hardened instantly at their outbursts, soon turning from strangely amused to abnormally cold. Elijah wondered just where the hell they’d found this guy, he didn’t recall seeing him listed anywhere as working with any of the other offices. Sean took a deep breath then let it out as if struggling for composure.

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Let me guess this was your first big case.”

“Well…” Elijah started and Sean plowed on.

“I’m sure you both thought this case would make your career until you got down to the deep of things and realized, ‘shite, this is impossible’, am I right?”

“That’s not exactly…”

“Am-I-right?” Sean asked smirking at their unwillingness to answer.

“Accepting that you’ve failed thus far is the first step to changing your course of action,” Sean said holding his arms out wide then letting them fall to his sides.

“I beg your pardon sir?”

“As far as this office is concerned you’ve been removed from this case. Four years of staking out and doing little more than reconnaissance missions with little to show for it. We need a new tactic and considering you two are the only ones who know these men inside and out you’re the only ones we trust to do this.”

“You mean going deep undercover?” Dave prompted leaning on the table. Sean nodded.

“Four years and nothing to show for it, it’s now or never, wouldn’t you think?” Sean asked. “That is if you really want a fresh start after all.”

Dave swore under his breath and hung his head. Beside him Elijah finally let up, crossing his arms taking his turn to glare at the new Assistant Director in Charge in appraisal. Without a moment’s hesitation he nodded without smiling though inside he felt everything was falling in just right.

“When do we start?” Elijah asked and Dave shot a surprised look at Elijah as his partner glanced at him quickly.

“I’ll need your badges on my desk tomorrow, you’ll be debriefed, and then you’ll be on the job,” Sean said turning on his heel and walking towards the door. “I trust you’ll both be ready tomorrow.”

Elijah looked at Dave who nodded himself running a hand over his face as if to bring himself back to reality. Sean smiled falsely again before opening and closing the door silently behind him.

*~*~*~*

Orlando woke the next day his skin tingling with the warmth of the firm body beside him. He inhaled the soft scent of their sheets mixed with their natural scent and hummed. He licked his lips sighing at the feeling of fingers running through his shoulder length hair. The sensation drove him mad in a good way. He wanted to stay like this, furthering his avoidance of the world for a few more hours.

Eric’s lips moved against his own, the deep sound of his voice enticing him to come up out of his sleepy daze.

“Does that feel good?” he asked earning affirmative nod.

“Good,” he responded pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry it had to happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” Orlando said, his eyes still closed, his lips closing after he spoke as he returned to humming.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself,” Eric’s voice soothed and Orlando stayed silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eric asked stopping his movements to gain Orlando’s attentions. Orlando’s eyes cracked open. He took a deep breath closing his eyes shamefully when his words came out brokenly.

“After I left you, I came to the study not finding any of our men really but Maddox’s old stooges. They were all sitting at the conference table. I felt it when I walked in the door, more than when Bernard told me. He told me that Maddox had been stabbed. I guess they brought him here first to Dr. Davies.”

“That’s why he was so shaken up. He must have, oh geez,” Eric said recalling the shaking hands that cleaned and dressed his wound.

“I asked where Hans and Grazer were and he told me they were being kept in the basement until someone came down to question them,” Orlando said. “I was just filled with so much anger when I left. I remember leaving the room and entering the basement.”

Orlando sat up and Eric followed suit, resting his elbows on his knees. “They were hiding under the stairwell. If I were in their place I would have taken to hiding as well. I remember coming down the stairs something cracking beneath my feet that wasn’t wood, more like glass. I suppose I taught them well, there used to be a mirror somewhere in that basement, they probably broke it to know when someone was coming. When they saw that it was me they tried to apologize and reason with me. When I looked at them all I saw was this blinding rage. I wanted them to hurt more than I was hurting, to feel that hot pain that had been tearing through me since I walked into the study.”

“You killed them.”

“I murdered them,” Orlando corrected.

“No.”

Orlando opened his mouth to refute Eric’s response but Eric cut him off at the pass.

“We kill for a living Orlando,” Eric reminded him. “I hate to be blunt but it’s a normal every day thing.”

“We kill because we have to stay alive or because of the business to make an example out of someone,” Orlando said. “Not just to avenge someone’s death.”

“Now that’s a laugh,” Eric answered. “There’s no sense beating yourself up about this. You shot them because they betrayed us all. You did what was right by you and the rest of us.”

“I didn’t shoot them,” Orlando said leaning heavily against Eric’s side, purposely trying not to harm his shoulder in any way, shape, or form. An unusual silence fell between them as the understanding of what took place in the basement fell over Eric. He felt like an entire bucket of cold water had just been turned over on him.

It had always been a known thing between them what they were both capable of. As the years passed and they became more comfortable with each other they had very little trouble understanding one another. They were one unit; always held together by this unbreakable bond that had been under strain more than just a few times.

Eric leaned into him and raked his fingers across Orlando’s cheek. Then kissing him on the farthest corner of his mouth he said with a small smile meant for nothing but pulling his lover out of this state of sadness. “We never did finish what we started in the club.”

His lips moved further down the curve, his tongue sliding out enticingly between his lips making wet lines where he kissed. Orlando’s mouth opened slightly and with that given inch Eric took a mile, kissing him fully. He teased him with games twisting their tongues about until Orlando became so frustrated that he shifted straddling Eric’s waist and pushing him gently against the pillows.

The soft feelings faded when the kiss became more intense so that when they finally broke apart, their lips were so red that they seemed bloody. Orlando hurriedly leaned off of the bed to pull open each drawer of Eric’s bedside table desperately searching for lube.

“Bottom drawer,” Eric muttered hissing at the on and off weight Orlando drove down onto his cock when he moved.

Eric’s hands ran over Orlando’s muscled thighs wandering over the faded marks and scars he’d received over the years. His lover wasn’t a large man when it came to physical muscle. He wasn’t a complete beanpole either. His physicality rested in his lithe form covered with just enough muscle to give him the strength to fight easily. He could more outlast someone in a fight as far as his resourcefulness and agility rather than how hard he packed a punch. It was for that matter that he always carried a pair of brass knuckles on him. He had a way with his weapons of choice, more particularly at the moment, his fingers.

Eric moaned as he was being prepared giving no worry to anyone hearing them. The staff and the rest of the faction knew better. A groan from above him drew his eyelids apart and at the same time Orlando ran his fingers across his prostate Orlando’s other hand readied his cock.

“Fuck!” Eric gasped the moment Orlando’s fingers picked up pace insistently rubbing his prostate one second then slowly driving forward barely touching anything at all. Orlando’s lips twitched and he leaned forward, not stopping his preparation, and moved his hips. Eric swore again grabbing a hold of Orlando’s hips in a bruising grip when he rubbed their members together. His back arched and soon they were moving together all at once, their hips, their fingers, and now their lips furiously clasping together. It was a bit uncomfortable but well worth it.

“Gotta keep up,” Orlando mumbled in between harsh breaths. Eric grunted lifting his hips and pushing more firmly against him. His grip became unimaginably harder holding Orlando down on him and granting him very little room to move. There he worked on him not even noticing the ceased attack on his hole. He concentrated on the moment. Orlando’s nearly feral moans in his ear and the lips on his neck biting and marking his flesh made every part of him feel more alive than when he was fighting or firing a gun.

Eric thrust against him moaning himself as the delightful sensation tingled down his spine rendering him if for a moment lost in the body above him. All it took was one look at Eric’s enraptured face and Orlando came with him both of them spiraling out of control. Their bodies were covered in sweat and their thighs were both wet from Eric’s cum. Eric’s fingers released their hold and when Orlando finally let up he stared down at Eric.

He looked completely untamed, his usually curly hair strewn wildly about his shoulders, randomly sticking up in places where it shouldn’t. His eyes glittered with an insatiable desire for more of him, just Eric. It wasn’t a wonder when a few moments later they were both hard again and Orlando had found a place between Eric’s already spread legs. He positioned himself at Eric’s entrance and began to push slowly inside.

Eric gripped the back of Orlando’s neck pulling him down for a kiss that burnt them both. The instant Orlando was inside he pulled out almost leisurely in a way to drive his partner mad with reignited passion.

“How’s your arm?” Orlando asked pushing forward slightly so only his head entered. Eric mumbled something intelligible wondering where the hell Orlando was going with this. He pushed back against him gaining at least another inch or so of Orlando’s cock. Orlando drew back and Eric moaned in its absence.

“Christ,” Eric shouted when Orlando didn’t move. He swore under his breath. Orlando had finally gone mad. “Why the fuck is that an issue right at this moment?”

Orlando dropped so his lips were next to Eric’s ear his breath tickling his skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Orlando whispered taking a moment to kiss Eric’s neck.

“Fine time to worry about that,” Eric retorted trying to push back again.

“You sure?” Orlando asked and Eric moaned in response.

“You can rip the stitches for all I care so long as you don’t...”

Eric gasped when Orlando pushed back into him at full force driving the breath from his throat keeping up the hard thrusts enjoying the feel of the man beneath him, writhing and calling for him.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Eric shouted and Orlando shook his head lifting one leg after another onto his shoulders. Eric was heavy but he was used to it. He slammed into Eric in one thrust after another losing himself in the sounds of throaty moans and skin slapping against skin.

“Harder,” Eric commanded using his muscles to feed the urge.

“Harder?” Orlando questioned through gritted teeth.

“Yes!” he cried out merrily when the friction of their coupling increased. He loved this man for many reasons. A lot of those reasons were unknown to Eric himself. One thing he had to give the young Brit, he knew always how he wanted it and even when he wanted it.

He fucked him hard without abandon for a few moments more than either of them thought they could hold out. One more thrust and they both came, Eric’s legs falling from his shoulders when Orlando kissed him fiercely claiming him as his, always and undoubtedly his, Eric.

****

Sean Bean stood facing the window to his office. His office was a part of the top floor, another backward thing he found with this system. When he took the job as ADIC of the New York City office he thought he would step into a cool controlled workplace, an easy job after his work in the central office, and the prestige he deserved. He didn’t know that after Mardell’s hasty exit he would be left holding the bag.

Sean ran his fingers through his blonde hair and blew out a frustrated breath. And now this case fell into his lap. It wasn’t anything extremely unique from the viewpoint of an outsider looking in. Now that he had stepped inside he could see just how volatile the situation had become, especially with the death of its key player. Then he had those two agents. In the beginning the files showed it was such a small case expected to last up to two years of work. Four years was a little out of bounds with little more than file upon file of information ranging from relevant to completely insignificant.

He shoved his fingers in his pockets not entirely enjoying the emptiness that followed. He needed a cigarette, badly. Sean turned to his desk and crouched to pull out the bottom drawer. He reached the back, fingers feeling for the smooth plastic that encased the only pack he had. When he found what he was looking for he pulled his arm back shutting the drawer hastily. He was supposed to have been through with his addiction. That was what he kept telling his ex-wife when they were trying to make amends. But the stress always drew him back to the slim packages. She always griped that he only loved two things in his life, his job and smoking. Sadly enough, no matter how many times he’d tried to deny it, it was true. Recently he thought he was getting better, being able to go for weeks at a time without a cigarette. This would be his first in three months.

“Shite,” he muttered, the Yorkshire accent burning through.

He had been raised in London from his birth to his mid-teens. When his mother died, shot on her walk home from the bank, he decided he needed a change. He took the money from her insurance, as they had no recognizable family and left. He moved to the states, put himself through schooling, and soon came to work for the FBI. He supposed his life seemed like a success-story. From near poverty to working for the FBI all in a span of twenty-five years, he guessed it was why he wound up speaking to many of the young recruits. It made him sick to get on a stage and talk to the brats who thought they had what it took to eventually reach his level. Damn near killed him to leave his house to do it every time he was called. But he did it and thankfully never saw any of those smug little faces again. He could guarantee that each of them thought they’d get to look bad-ass in the black suit, walking around with a gun and the power to kill with the force of their country behind them. He could also guarantee that most of them wouldn’t have the stones to pull a trigger if they had to. He could see it in their eyes, the fear and anxiety lurking in the corners of their minds. It was weakness.

Sean ripped open the package tossing the plastic wrapper into the waste bin beside his desk then searched for the box of matches he usually hid on his desk. When he found them he nearly whooped for joy. When he lit the cigarette he smiled as he inhaled the sweet nicotine. His nerves stilled and he sighed.

A knock at the door made him groan. He called out for whomever it was to come in and almost rolled his eyes at the sight of the two agents he’d spoken to yesterday staring back at him. One right behind the other they stepped forward and placed their badges on his desk. The second one, Wenham he thought, seemed more reluctant to let it go.

“I’m—we’re ready sir,” the one Sean recognized as Elijah said without hesitance. Sean smirked happily. This one could pull the trigger.

“You should know, once inside you’ll have little to no contact with us at all,” Sean said not bothering to offer them seats. “Do you understand that?”

The two men nodded and Sean took a long drag on his cigarette.

“As you know, with factions there’s a certain formula unlike with a mafia family. There’s always the head and the henchmen,” Sean said. “When the head dies or is unable to continue running the faction as he always has he chooses his successor. Unlike the family where the oldest or more equipped takes care of business, it’s usually whoever has been in service the longest. A best friend, right hand man, you get the drift.”

“Yes, sir,” they both responded.

“There’s great unrest within this faction and we’re very unsure as to who will turn out to be its leader. This means things could become very rocky within the faction. I’ve only seen a few like this. The young and the old mixed in together. You see the problem with factions is that there usually are only the eldest members. But with this set, there’s something different.”

“Your job from the inside will not be to collect intelligence on these men but to aid in breaking them apart. You’ll have six months. The central office is tired of this game. They want it finished. My way offers you two a better chance. Their way is a clean sweep,” Sean said. “There’s your real danger.”

“We’ll be protected, won’t we?” Dave asked his face actually paling a bit at the thought. Sean chuckled mirthlessly.

“Of course,” he said his false smile gracing his lips once more. Dave didn’t look at all relieved.

“We never leave our agents behind.”
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Vengeance