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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: zarakan@hotmail.com
LJ: http://www.livejournal.com/users/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: Confrontations with a Leopard…

Notes: Hey look! I am back! It's quite weird. Normally, I update after ages because I was lazy - it took me ages before I would sit down and write this. But this time, it took ages writing it. I've spent 3 days just tweaking it and fixing, then gave up and just finished the chapter. Never done that before...hmm...

Yes, I know, I know...this chapter sucks. I am sorry! But think of it this way - at least it's long, right? So sorry for the story line in this way...watched a movie over the weekend and it really made me want to write another 'bit' of this story. Unfortunately, that bit is sort of way into the future, but I was just so...touched by it I want to cram it in next. So I'll have to readjust a lot of things which explains why this scene is sort of...weird.

Hope you don't notice it, but I thought I would explain! And I am not telling you guys which movie I watched in case you all figure out what I am planning on writing about. But I'll tell you this - it made me cry buckets. Hehe.

Chapter 47

My god knew enough not to say anything as we left the restaurant without a word though he shot me a few curious glances in the truck. My stricken expression must have given me away. Stricken? Perhaps more panicked. Or shocked. Take your pick, they all apply. Add angry to that list too – who is Leopard man to suddenly appear at my, no our apartment and make demands of me?

“Why don’t you wait here with Tooters for a few minutes?” I quietly suggest as we both undo our seatbelts in the car park of Paradise.

I get a suspicious look thrown my way.

“Why?”

“Because it’s better this way.”

“Better how?”

“Better because…” my mind goes blank, “…I can check the apartment first.” That’s not a total lie, is it? Hmm, a half-truth I think one could say.

Orlando reaches over to poke me in the arm. “Check for what? I know this has something to do with the phone call you received in the restaurant. What’s happened? Who was it?”

Damn. Now what? Thinking on my feet has never been my forte. Thinking has never been my forte period.

“I just think it’ll be a good idea for me…to greet Beanie alone first.”

Talk about your mouth running away from you. What a thoughtless thing to say, especially after Orlando’s staggering revelation about feeling left out of my relationship with my best friend. Smart move, Viggo, you are so intelligent, look you’re the one who’s caused that closed look expression on your boyfriend’s face. Great job, two thumbs up.

I hastily take his hand in mine and attempt to make amends.

“Wait, wait, I mean…” Go on, Viggo, what do you mean?

Orlando looks expectantly at me but he still looks hurt. “I thought you could tell me anything…”

“I can,” is my immediate reassurance, “but this…this sort of puts me in a tough spot.”

“Tell me…see if I can help.”

“I don’t know – ”

“Tell me,” he insists firmly.

Deep breath.

“Okay.” The direct way is probably the best way in this case. So here goes. “Eric is upstairs.”

Silence.

“Eric?” he echoes in disbelief.

“Yeah…your Eric.”

That brilliant grin that spreads quickly over his face was not what I was expecting.

“Eric’s here?? Did you plan this for me?”

Before I even know what’s happening, he’s crawled out of the car and raced towards the building.

“Shit!” I curse, scrambling after him, but locking down my Tooters gives him a head start. Yeah, he might be too thin and possess an injured back, but he’s still young and the adrenaline makes his feet fly. By the time I’ve dragged my ass to the lobby, the lift is already on its merry way up to the Eagle suite.

“Damn!”

~~~

It is with great trepidation that I knock on my own front door. Why am I knocking? I had given my damn keys to Beanie after dinner, that’s why. And yes, the irony strikes me – I haven’t stood in front of my door in anxiety since my god left me and I was returning for the first time to an empty apartment. That sick feeling in my stomach as I stand out here wondering what the door is separating me from.

“Hey, you’re back…”

Beanie pulls the door open, and without saying a word, I push past to see where the crazed kitty has corned my poor prince.

In the living room is the most affectionate scene I’ve ever seen the Leopard man in – he’s got my Orlando in a tight embrace and is repeatedly kissing the curls on top of his head. And as expected, he’s being mutually wrapped up in arms I myself can testify are strong and secure; a complete encirclement. Wait a second…is that even purring I hear?

Well…I don’t know how to feel about this. Of course they’re best friends and ‘brothers’, but this is the first time I’ve seen them so close and…intimate. They’re so comfortable in each other’s personal space that it jars back the memory that they had once been lovers.

My movement into their space alerts the feline predator’s fine-turned instinct and he swings his head up in my direction.

Busted.

And so it begins.

“You have a lot of nerve – ”

“Hey!” I interrupt his tirade before he can begin, “Hold it!”

My god is pulling away from his ‘brother’, but Leopard man keeps his arms firmly in place so all Orlando can do is sort of lean away.

“Eric!”

“No, Orli.” The gruff Leopard reaches out a paw and tenderly runs it down the side of my prince’s face. “Why don’t you go and start packing up your bags while I have a little word with…Mortensen.”

Ouch. That’s the worst label he’s given me yet. Mortensen. And judging by the way he’s clenching his fist, I can probably expect another bruiser. But two can play at this game, I’ve done nothing wrong and I don’t need to hide anything.

“Why don’t we just let ‘Orli’ stay and listen to what you have to say…Bana.” I begin to stalk over to him when Orlando manages to wrench himself free and inserts himself bodily between us.

“Hey!” he interjects, looking quickly from me to Leopard man.

“Orli, move away,” is the growl.

“Step aside, muffin,” is my rasping echo.

Ignoring us both, my god raises a hand out to each of us in the universally understood ‘stop, go no further’ gesture.

“What’s going on with you two? If I remember correctly, you both parted on good terms at the airport!”

Well, he’s remembered wrongly then. Sure, I was amiable to him before I learnt that this large ball of cat-fluff had brainwashed my god into the idea of leaving me. There was no way in hell I was going to forget that little fact though I never brought it up again to my god. From the look on Bana-boy’s face, he’s recollected something equally disturbing that I’ve probably said or implied in the past.

Beanie, who had been observing quietly from the side until now, intervened quickly when he noticed the temperature and our hackles quickly rising.

“Break it up, you two. None of this. We’re civilised people and this outfit is not cheap at all; I don’t want to have to get it taken off to be professionally cleaned when you two get your dirty blood all over it.”

We both unclench our fists at the steel in his voice though our eyes are still clashing and fighting relentlessly around the side of his head. My prince sighs in relief, thinking that the worst is over but Beanie knows us both better. Neither of us is going to back down until we’ve had some kind closure – be it a glaring match to one of us standing over the dead body of the other. Hopefully it will be me leering over his rotting carcass and not the other way round.

“Let’s sit down on the couch,” my god begs, and though I would do anything to get that desperate pleading look out of his eyes, I am not going to be the first to yield. No way.

Too bad Leopard-demon is thinking along the same lines since he doesn’t give an inch either, not even when Orlando tugs on his sleeve and does that sweet doggy look with his eyes.

More used to macho men flexing their muscles in a room reeking of testosterone, Beanie doesn’t bother trying to have us sit down and shake hands as my prince had been hoping.

“One at a time to speak, and no shouting…it hurts the delicate drums in my sensitive ears. The very ears God created for enjoying sweet arias are not to be busted by you two trying to out-scream each other in an enclosed space in which I would love to be anywhere else but. However, since I am stuck here, you’re going to have to do this my way.”

The absurdity of his auditory sensibilities does not go by without a reaction by the demon-spawn cat – there is a tiny smile trying to break through though he’s doing his best to keep on his menacing face. Stupid as it may look, I know I have an identical expression on my own face. The moods and emotions are running too quickly for Orlando to fully catch up and he’s looking at us as if we were insane: growling and snarling to a sudden reluctant sharing of smiles.

Human behaviour. Who can explain it? Actually, it’s quite straightforward – felines are known for their intense desire to hunt and kill creatures of the winged and feathered variety. So it’s all innate, no explanations applicable. But it seems all have a mutual problem figuring out the thinking patterns of the Beanie-man.

Though still on edge, the fur ball decides he’s going first.

“Orlando is leaving with me.”

Okay. Let’s get that cleared up first.

“No, he’s not.”

Shit, shouldn’t have made that sound like such a challenge.

“Yes, he is. He’s going to pack now, then leave with me when I go back to Australia.”

“I’ll be damned if he is.”

“You’re damned anyway, if I have any say in this.”

Smug bastard.

“Well, you don’t. He’s staying here…with me.”

“You obviously can’t take care of him, so he should be with someone who can!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?? He’s doing great here!”

“Great? What’s your definition of ‘great’?” A pointed accusing finger in my direction, “You think muffled crying on the phone to me every few days is ‘doing great’?”

“What?” I glance flabbergasted at my god who turns his head away, averting his eyes. “I know we had a…misunderstanding and he called you once while upset, but…Orlando? Orlando?”

No reaction from my prince except that he leans subconsciously closer to Eric.

This can’t be…no way.

“Muffin?” I plead once more.

His silence is an answer in itself.

“You see?” Eric triumphantly roars, “He’s miserable with you!”

That can’t be true. It’s not right.

“Orlando?” I beg once more.

“Eric, stop…” my god clutches at the Leopard’s sleeve, but nothing can get in the way of his rant now.

‘“You don’t know it, Mortensen, but you hurt all those people around you. Look at Orlando! And Beanie! Everyone gets burnt by you, no one can escape it.”

Orlando tries once more to halt the rage of words, but of course it’s no use and the words just seem to pour out of Eric.

“I promised you I would look after Orli when we went to Melbourne and I kept up my end of the bargain – I even trusted you enough to let him come back to you…surprise surprise, you didn’t deliver. Fine, he comes back to you and you don’t even hire anyone to look after him – ”

“Stop, Eric…please, just stop…”

“He’s not your son, Bana! Stop telling him what to do!” I cut in angrily at seeing my prince pushed aside.

“Oh, that’s right, a son. You should know what it’s like to be a father - You have a son! What kind of relationship are you planning on having with Orli anyway? One in which he’s hidden away and no one knows about him? One in which you don’t tell him anything about yourself? You keep him locked up in your apartment – ”

“No more…Eric, no more…” My prince is now scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, obviously distressed.

“ – he told me he doesn’t even go out to the café in the mornings, and I know it’s his one favourite hobby! I don’t know why you want him here with you. Some kind of boy toy thing going?”

“Eric!!”

“Bana…” I growl quietly, “He’s not Klaus. You can’t control Orlando.” I know it’s a cheap shot going for the jugular and mentioning Leopard-man’s deceased younger brother, but I am so angry and upset I want to cause him some pain.

“ – what the…? Who told you? You bastard…you’re not worthy to even speak his name! Orlando’s leaving with me and damn you for having hurt him. To think of all the tears he cried for you in Australia. You asshole!” Getting more and more worked up, Eric starts stalking over to me as his shouting escalates, “I should just kill you now and get it over and done with. You see, Orli,” he directs at the shaking form in front of him though his eyes are spitting fire at me, “it’s as I told you, sweetheart. He never loved you. He never did nor will.”

Orlando surprised both of us and himself in that very moment Eric denounced our love.

I have never seen him move so quickly or act so aggressively towards another person. Coming between us, he shoves Eric and the stunned leopard lands with a thud on the floor. I don’t think it was so much the strength of the push, but more the shock in the unanticipated action.

“Don’t say things like that about Viggo! He loves me! I know he does!”

Fists clenched, jaw tense, panting breaths…my prince rushes to my defence.

“Orli…” Eric says breathlessly, still lying on his back and staring up with an expression of disbelief.

Deliberately, Orlando steps around the fallen figure of his hero and comes to me.

“Viggo…I am going to need some time with Eric.”

Yeah right. Like I am going to leave the two of them alone together. That damn Leopard is going to pack my prince up in a suitcase and ship him right off.

“I can’t allow that.”

“Viggo,” it’s his stern voice speaking, one I’ve never heard before, “it’s as you said earlier to Eric. You can’t control me. I have free will too - please step outside and give me some time alone with…my brother.”

The final endearment was probably added to take out the sting from the push earlier and Bana-boy acknowledges the subtle compromise and reprimand by a nod as Beanie heaves him back upright.

What can I do except cast one last look at the two of them? You know, just in case Eric does manage to smuggle my god back to Australia somehow. But you can bet anything I’ll be on the next plane to haul him back to where he belongs – by my side.

It’s all I see as the front door swings shut behind us, leaving Beanie and I in a cold elevator. What a great 46th birthday party I had. At least it’s memorable, right?

TBC...

Well? Sucky, right? SORRY! And I'll be going to back to the UK this Friday, so I don't know when the next update will be.

Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They really make my day, so MUAH and thanks again...

Do you all still love me after this crappy chapter? *Wibble*
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Flying With Eagles