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London Skies	By : SarBrook Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 2746 -:- 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
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- 4
Chapter Four: Dinner and a Movie with Bloomers
Sierra and Orlando worked together to put the contents of the boxes away. He asked her every possible question about the pictures wrapped in bubble wrap. He loved the one of her during Rent, where she was dressed as Maureen, singing “Over the Moon.” He, luckily, did not recognize the musical. Unfortunately, he did figure out it was a national tour. He was impressed and interested, which was not the reaction she had expected. She figured he would leave as soon as he learned she liked acting, too. Instead, he asked more questions, until he finally realized she did not want to talk about it.
Because she didn’t. Because he was still Orlando Bloom, and she did not know him that well. Because she did not want to think about her ex.
Instead, he turned his stream of questions about her friends. While they waited for the popcorn to pop, he asked her about Ricky. At first, he almost seemed jealous that she lived with a man for so long. Then she laughed and told him Ricky was gay. He paused for a moment, then grinned and started questioning her about Will. He wanted to know how his cousin really was, what his girlfriend, Alex, was like.
When she plugged in the DVD player, she told him about her love for movies, which he could tell from her extensive and eclectic collection.
“What’s your favorite movie?” he asked suddenly.
She sighed, adjusting the DVD player so it was straight. She wiped dust from her hands onto her jeans. “You might as well have asked me who my favorite child is. Not that I have any children,” she added quickly. “But the idea is the same.”
He lounged on her couch, holding his head up on his hand. He looked very comfortable and very enticing laying there. “If you were stranded on a desert island and could only bring one movie with you, what would it be?” He certainly had a knack for strange questions.
She bit her lip. “Well, besides the fact bringing a movie to a desert island is completely ridiculous and not at all smart, I guess it would be…” she drifted off, then said the first movie that came to mind. “The Princess Bride.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I don’t believe I’ve seen that one.”
She gasped, hand flying to her heart. “Tell me it isn’t so, Bloomers!” she ran for the pile of DVDs and pulled out her copy of the movie. She readied the DVD player and popped it in. “In that case, that is the movie we will watch. But, I will warn you,” she added. “I will most likely say every single line with the movie.” Eager, she positioned herself on the floor, leaning against the couch.
He tapped her shoulder. “Phil,” he said. She glanced up at him as the movie started. “You can sit on the couch.” He sat up so they could both fit. Blushing for no reason, she climbed onto the couch. The bowl of popcorn sat in between them.
“So, why is this your favorite movie?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s on my list of one of the greatest movies of all time. There are a lot of those. Anyway, it has everything you need in a movie: action, romance, suspense, pirates, an amazing swordfight, and humor,” she glanced at him. He just smiled.
“Pirates and swordfights, huh?” he teased.
She lowered her eyelids. “Considering that details every single one of your good movies, yes.”
He pouted. “That hurts.”
She shrugged. “Get used to it.”
She did not lie. She knew every line, but refrained from speaking most of them. She only let the good lines slip out.
“Hello,” she said with the movie. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!” As one of the best sword fighting sequences progressed, she lost herself in the scene, not even noticing that she mouthed every word.
Orlando noticed. He watched her more than he watched the movie. He loved her reaction to just about everything. How she knew when a good part was coming and she got excited, jumping up and down in her seat a bit. She even squealed once or twice and laughed like crazy at a few lines. Sometimes it was because the line became a joke with her and her friends, which she had to explain.
“Shut up, witch,” she said in an almost perfect Billy Crystal accent. “I’m not a witch, I’m your wife,” she retorted in Carol Kane’s voice. “And after what you just said, I'm not even sure I want to be that any more!”
He laughed at her. He had to. She was just so…cute watching this movie. He wondered how she reacted when she watched his movies. He saw a few of them in her collection, but said nothing about it. She still seemed torn about him; as if she did not know whether to treat him like a normal person or a movie star. She tried to treat him normal, and he was thankful for it. He was sad she had to try, but at least she made the effort. And at least she didn’t scream in his face.
Though he wouldn’t mind making her scream in some other way.
But he pushed that from his head. She did not want that right now. He was content with his new friend, anyway. Even if he was attracted to her. And wondered what her porcelain skin felt like. And how silky her long brown hair was. And how her lips tasted…
“Mawage,” she said. “Mawage is what bwings us togeva today!”
He laughed at her. He had to. It kept him sane.
**~~~**
Sierra glanced at Orlando when the movie was over. Between them, the entire bowl of popcorn was gone and the coffee table was covered in water bottles. Yes, water, because she didn’t have any beer. She was never much of a fan, which made Orlando gasp in mock pain.
“What did you think?” she asked him.
He smiled. “It was quite…entertaining,” he said. She shook her head and placed the bottles into the bowl. He helped her clean up.
“Well, if you’re bored enough to watch another,” she let the sentence drift away as she went back into the kitchen.
“My choice?” he asked from the living room.
She smiled to herself, dumping the bottles into a recycling bin. “Sure.” Then, “Are you hungry? I could fix something or we could order something or…something.”
He laughed. “You certainly have a way with words, Buttercup.”
She turned to the living room with a confused look on her face. She walked to the portal and leaned against the jam. “Buttercup?”
He grinned from his crouching position in front of the DVDs. “You like the movie so much, it’s your new nick name.” he wrinkled his nose. “Phil was stupid, anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “Charming.” Despite her outward appearance of not caring, inside she was delighted he took the time to think of the nick names. It gave her a happy, squishy feeling in her stomach.
But she shook it away.
“So,” she said. “Food of the real variety?”
Her speech almost confused him, but then he understood. “Um, sure, love, whatever you want. What do you have in mind?”
“Ravioli,” she answered, trying not to blush at his endearment. She loved the Brits. “Marinara. Garlic bread. Salad. Sound good?”
“Can you make a complete sentence?” he teased.
She glared at him. “Can you answer the question?”
“Type of ravioli?”
“Spinach and cheese.”
“Are you a vegetarian?” he asked, surprised.
She snorted. “Hardly. I like me some burnt dead flesh,” she elaborated. “But not with my pasta. Major ew factor.” She stopped, realizing she was pretty much speaking a language he did not understand. “I mean, it’s gross. Anyway, you interested?”
He nodded. “Sounds good, Buttercup.”
Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and began preparing dinner. He went back to browsing her movies.
She definitely had an eclectic style. Beyond her new acquisition of every Johnny Depp movie, she had things that ranged from old classics, 80s teenage comedies, drama, comedy, period pieces, foreign, and musicals. Lots of musicals, mostly on VHS. He grinned. Everything was in a certain order by genre. And he wondered if there was preference, because the comedies were closest to the top.
He did notice the fact that she had all three Lord of the Rings. Extended editions. And two other movies involving him as an actor. He almost dismissed Pirates of the Caribbean, seeing as Johnny was in that one as well. But Ned Kelly? Unless she likes Heath Ledger, which was completely possible (she had three of his movies as well). Orlando glanced back at the kitchen, where she was quickly chopping an onion for the salad. He would have to tease her. It was his duty.
And she could take the teasing and dish it back, which just made him like her even more.
Music drifted from the kitchen area. It was an upbeat song, with fiddles and drums. He watched as she sang along and danced. Apparently, she liked celtic music. She even pretended to step dance, but it didn’t work out so well. She ended up laughing at herself. He crept to the entry of the kitchen to get a better look. She was washing something in the sink as she bounced along, so she didn’t notice him until he spoke.
“What’s this song?” he asked.
She whipped around, clearly embarrassed. “Lanigan’s Ball,” she said, turning it down. “It’s by my favorite band. Enter the Haggis.”
He gave the name a weird look. “Interesting. Do you know what haggis is?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many people have asked me that when I tell them the name of the band? And yes, although I do not enjoy the intestines of sheep. Or the heart, lungs, and liver. Or the boiling in the stomach.” She pretended to gag. “I’m not a big fan of sausage-type foods in general. Mmm, intestines…”
He laughed at her, which he realized he did more and more lately. “Good music, though.” Then he changed the subject. “Do you want any help?”
She gazed at him closely. “Do you know how to cook, Bloomers?”
“I know my way around a kitchen. More or less.” She did not seem to believe him, but assigned him to keeping an eye on the sauce and garlic bread. He learned that she had owned a restaurant with her best friend Ricky, who did most of the cooking. She enjoyed baking over regular cooking, but did not mind making dinner. Most of the time.
And she loved cooking shows. She watched Food network, whatever that was, more than any other station. She really had a passion for food. Hell, she had a passion fro just about everything she did.
So far, Orlando learned that his neighbor could act, sing, cook, and loved pop culture. She also enjoyed books, which were just as wide ranged as her movie choices, and sometimes dabbled in writing. All in all, she was a woman with many loves, but had trouble deciding what to do with her life.
Orlando decided to glean more. “So, Buttercup,” he ignored her pointed eye roll. “What is your dream job? Whether or not it would ever happen, what would you want to do?”
She paused, seriously contemplating this. She liked his questions. They seemed cliché, but they were fun. “Well,” she dragged the word so it had about ten syllables. “Having my own animal show would be fun. Like, Jeff Corwin or Crocodile Hunter style. Only, not as scary and annoying as Steve Erwin. And no snakes. Indiana Jones and I should be buddies.” She got a far away look in her eye. “Harrison Ford. Yum.” She made a noise between a groan and a gurgle, Homer Simpson style. Not that Orlando knew who Homer was. “What about you?”
“Lollipop man,” he answered after a moment. Sierra looked at him like he was nuts.
“You want to sell lollipops?”
He shook his heads. “No, it’s a person who stops traffic so kids can cross the street.”
She said, “Oh,” really loud and for about a minute. “A crossing guard! I get it.” Her look of recognition quickly turned to confusion. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Why not? You just stand there a few times a day. You hold this amazing traffic stopping power.”
She started giggling. “Interesting. I would work with monkeys and you would work with kids.”
He joked, “Not much of a difference, eh?”
Her giggle turned into a full fledge laughter. This was dangerous, considering she was still wielding a very sharp butcher’s knife. Seeing this, Orlando carefully wrapped his fingers around her wrist and extracted the weapon from her grasp before she could hurt herself. Or him. She stopped laughing almost as soon as he put the knife on the counter.
He didn’t let go of her wrist.
Instead, he gently glided up to her hand and laced their fingers together. Her eyes, for lack of better phrase, completely bugged out and her mouth turned into a perfect O. He searched her eyes, not picking up her desperate attempt to hide her emotions. He shook his head slowly and clicked his tongue in a scolding manner.
“Tsk, tsk, Buttercup,” he murmured. “You could have cut yourself.”
She licked her lips, uncomfortable. He nearly groaned as he watched the tiny pink tongue wet her full, soft lips. He wondered how she tasted. He began to lean forward, agonizingly slow for the sweet rush of anticipation…
Then the timer buzzed.
Jerking into reality, Sierra jumped about five feet in the air and ripped herself from his grasp. She literally ran into the stove to cut the noise. Her heart beat wildly, adrenaline running through her veins. Whoa. What? Was he just going to…?
Okay, there were two options here. She could say something, most likely joke about the fact she thought he was going to kiss her. Or that she would have liked to kiss him.
Or she could throw caution to the wind and jump him right here, right now, in a horizontal tango.
She chose option three: ignore it. She was not ready to deal with whatever feelings she might have for him. He was an actor. She had sworn she’d never date an actor again. And she intended to stick to that promise. Cause the last time she dated an actor? Yeah, that did not turn out so well.
“Almost done!” she said in a very perky voice which was too loud even to her ears. “Just a few more minutes for the pasta.”
He sighed, defeated. He obviously regretted whatever just happened. Her heart sank, before she yelled at it for caring. “Shall I set the table?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head, face burning with frustration, embarrassment, and something else she did not want to think about. “No. I mean, we can eat while we watch the movie. If you want.” Insert uncomfortable silence here. “Did you pick a movie?”
He coughed. “Not yet. I’ll…go do that.” He left the room in a hurry.
She bit her lip to keep from groaning. Why did he bother staying? Obviously she repulsed him. He should just go home. Wow, talk about AWKWARD!
In reality, Orlando was not repulsed by his American neighbor at all. Rather, he secretly wished the almost kiss was an actual kiss. This made him slap himself mentally. She was not ready. He would not take advantage. Whatever baggage she had to sort through told him he had to wait. Or just be friends. It is possible to just be friends with a girl.
Or so he read in books.
Besides, he was in a vulnerable position as well. Which would explain why he almost kissed her to begin with. He had just faced a rather nasty breakup with Kate Bosworth. Another check in their ever growing list of breaking up and getting back together. This time, it was too much. Everything was too much. He did not remember the last time he had been allowed to breathe, between demands as a boyfriend, demands as an actor, and demands as a friend or relative. His agents had not been happy when he told them that he needed a break before filming on Pirates started up again. So, instead of taking another job for the four months before production started, he decided to return to his small, cozy flat in London. At least for a little while.
Right now, he was enjoying his freedom. And Sierra…well, she was an added bonus to his time off.
Just then, he found the movie that could break this tense silence. “Amélie?” he called to her. “You like Amélie?”
She poked her head out of the kitchen. “If I were ever to write a movie, it would be just like that one.”
He smiled brilliantly at her. He noticed how she pretended not to swoon. He liked his effect on her. “It’s one of my favorites,” he admitted.
I know, she thought. Out loud, “Pop it in, Bloomers. Dinner is served.”
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