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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10191 -:- 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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Title: Flying with Eagles
Author: Zar
Email: squishypiglet@hotmail.co.uk
LJ: squishypiglet
Warnings: This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it!
Pairings: Viggorli with special guest Eric Bana.
Disclaimer: This is not true, despite all my wishes.
Summary: Here’s a mama wolf and her baby cubs…

Chapter 5

I was still floating on a cloud when I headed back to ‘Paradise’ with my coffee in one hand and muffin in the other. I am going to meet the world’s most beautiful man tomorrow for breakfast. I know that he usually eats with his other god friend, so it’s just such a miracle he’s decided to see me instead. Wait a second. Does he mean that it’s going to be me, him and the Leopard-man? Suddenly, I don’t think I am so enthusiastic about this anymore.

I am pretty decent with colours and patterns but not so great with numbers - and this weakness is highlighted best when I am standing in front of the electronic pad trying vainly to remember the magic four digits which would allow me entrance into the building. I’ve stepped slightly to the right and out of the way of the glass doors so the snobby little security guard inside can’t watch me struggle with a smirk on his face. For some unknown (and I believe, unfair) reason, he’s extremely hostile to me and enjoys watching me sweat outside the doors trying to guess the code.

But even this slight drawback isn’t enough to make a dent in my fabulous mood. I am having breakfast with an angel tomorrow. He asked me. He must like me. The angel likes me. Heehee…not that I would actually ever giggle in real life, but when in my head, no one else knows. So I giggle all I want. Orlandoooo likes me…

My dilemma is solved when the door clicks open and I automatically move towards it. I guess the bastard security guard does have a heart in there somewhere. However, on the other side of the glass is an attractive woman who looks stunned that I’ve suddenly pounced in front of her. She has curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. In fact, I am starting to wonder if she’s a woman at all – she looks like a child.

The door swings open as I pull on it and I step back graciously to let her out. It is only then that I notice there are two children staring curiously up at me.

The little girl blinks her big eyes at me then points and says loudly to what must be her babysitter,

“Who’s he?”

The babysitter looks slightly appalled at the manners of the child, but smiles apologetically back at me.

“You’ll have to excuse her. I am Vanessa and these are my children, Lily-Rose and Jack. You must be Mr Mortensen who just moved into the Eagle.”

Excuse the little girl? That child looks astonishingly like Orlando with the same dark colouring. She’s a mini-god. A mini-goddess. I am trying to hold back a laugh as the idea of “Mini-Johnson” filters through my head.

I was pulling a face at her to make her laugh when what Vanessa said registered in my mind. She said her children. Huh. It can’t be. She looks like a child herself! Or maybe it’s just because I am getting old and everyone looks young nowadays.

Looking at all three of them again, I can see certain resemblances now. The girl has beautiful brown hair that curls at the tips and dark eyes while the little boy sneaking peeks at me has obviously inherited his mother’s blonde locks and light blue eyes. He has chubby cheeks tinged a healthy pink – in fact he reminds me of a younger not-so-cute Henry.

A subconscious part of my brain recognises that the diphthong in Lily-Rose’s name is pronounced by Vanessa with a monothong and lack of vowel reduction when she said “the Eagle” leads me to believe they’re French. Exotic.

“Hi there, you two. Oh, Vanessa, you as well, of course. And please, call me Viggo. Do you live here too?”

What a stupid question to ask! Of course she lives here…what else would she be doing here then? I must look like such an idiot. She answers me nonetheless, oblivious to my flush at the stupid question.

“Yes, we do. We’re in Suite Two…you might know it as the Wolf?”

Ahh…they were on the second floor though I hadn’t known it was called the Wolf. I guess it makes sense in a way, here’s a mama wolf and her baby cubs…

Lily-Rose is still staring up at me, blatantly eyeing the muffin I have clutched in one hand. Her mother (mother!! Can’t get over that) is trying to persuade the little boy out from behind her. He has a strong grip on his mother’s jeans and seems unwilling to relinquish it.

“Hey there, Jack…might I interest you and your sister in a muffin?”

I’ve read somewhere that children react better to grownups at their own eyelevel so I squat down to his height and in front of him, unwrap the muffin from its protective wrap and hold it out, palm up. A little red tongue swipes quickly across pursued lips as the chubby boy scrutinises the treat as only a child can. It is obvious he wants it, but is still wary of me.

His sister on the other hand has no quails about accepting food from strangers and leaps forward neatly to snatch the muffin from my hand. After a stern look from her mother, Lily-Rose looks back at me and mutters a reluctant, “thank you.”

I give her a pat on the head which I don’t think she likes, but she ignores me after that, intent on splitting the muffin to share with her brother. It is obvious who is going to get the bigger share. Her mother rolls her eyes at me.

“Thank you, Viggo. Sorry we can’t stay to talk now, I was just taking the kids out to the park. You know, let them play off some of their liveliness. You should come down with us one day.”

“That would be wonderful. I shan’t keep you then.”

“It was nice meeting you.”

I nod politely at her and the two children who are now squabbling over the last of the muffin. I suppose Jack realised he received the short end of the stick and is now beginning to tear up.

Vanessa rolls her eyes and mouths, “children” at me before leading them off. I watch them go and think back of my own family…before it happened. We used to be like that once upon a time – me, Henry and Exene. We were a team, a family. I can still remember how the two of us used to take Henry to the water park and the zoo…he liked the bears and the – I have to stop thinking about this. I’ve moved here now. It’s time to move on.

Maybe I could distract myself by working more on the painting with the dancing girls. Beanie will be pleased if I get it done by the end of the week.

Shaking my head determinedly, I step into ‘Paradise’ and try to leave the past behind me.

Stepping into the lift, I realise that my hand is crinkling something absently and upon closer inspection, find that it is the plastic wrapping from the muffin. Well. My muffin is gone. I am actually quite amazed I gave away the one thing that ultimately prompted my god into talking to me for the first time. I had been hoping to blackmail Beanie into framing that muffin for me, or have it embalmed in gold to put on my fireplace (not that I have one here, but it’s the thought that counts!) with the inscription: The Muffin That Started It All.

I guess now, the inscription shall just have to read: The Remains of the Muffin That Started It All.

TBC...

Thanks so much Alex for your kind review! I'll always treasure the first review, hehe...you know what? I am going to embalm your comment to put on Viggo's non-existent fireplace next to the muffin wrapper! Thank you for speaking up, and don't worry. I just watched Troy again yesterday, so you can be sure to see some Eric action soon. How can anyone not love him?? *Muah*

Zar.
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Flying With Eagles