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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: 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: Dealing with the big surprise…

This took forever in coming for two reasons:
1. I didn't want to write this chapter because I love Beanie and I thought that if I put it off, then the circumstances would change. They didn't though.
2. My Aunt kidnapped me off to Milton Keynes for this Easter holiday and I had no internet connection or anything. I went absolutely ballistic, I tell you.

But look! It's 9 am now, and I stayed up all night doing this for you. Aren't I a sweetheart??

Chapter 52

The piercing smash of glass slamming onto the table startles even me and draws the attention of everyone around us.

Beanie reaches over to try and unclench my bloody hand from around the sharp shards, but I shrug him off with a wounded groan.

“This is bullshit. Absolute bullshit.”

I need to get out of here. Away from him. Right now.

I try to shove my chair away from the table but I’ve used too much force and instead, the entire table is toppled over, the glasses and plates are all sent crashing to the ground as I hurriedly leave, ignoring the wide-eyed gazes of waiters and passer-bys.

What’s going on, you ask? Let’s back track a little…

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” I wheedle one last time, standing framed in the lift, using my arm to keep the doors open.

Orlando gives me a nice long squeeze around the middle and I can’t resist clutching him to me one second more. Is it pathetic to not want to be parted for more than a minute? But if you had him in your arms, trust me, you’ll be having trouble leaving too.

“Go! You’re late and Sean’s probably already sitting there waiting for you.”

“Come with me, just get changed…I’ll wait.”

I am not termed a ‘stubborn old man’ for nothing, after all, but no amount of cajoling is working this time. Must be losing my charm.

“I’ll see you tonight,” kiss, “and we can have dinner together,” kiss, “but I should spend some time with Eric,” kiss, “he’s a little sensitive right now,” kiss, “so close to Klaus’…anniversary. But no matter what happens,” he hastily adds, “I’ll be back here when you get home after meeting Sean. In case.”

Fine, fine, put the stupid Leopard over me. And in case of what?

I should be leaving soon though, because despite everything, I am curious about Beanie’s news.

~~~

Which brings me to the café. It’s one of the few that we both like – quiet and small enough to suit my tastes, while being over-priced and elitist enough to suit his. The waitresses all know and adore him, so I guess that’s an extra bonus for my flirtatious best friend.

As predicted, Beanie is lounging comfortably at our regular table sporting trendy sunglasses and sipping…wow, is that a martini I see in his hand at one o’clock in the afternoon?

“You still going regularly to your AA meetings?” I throw at him as I take my seat.

He doesn’t say anything, simply toasting my statement and taking another long drink.

Wow. That’s odd. He usually likes coming back with something else terribly witty and clever (in his opinion), but I guess we’re sticking to silence today.

The waitress comes over to take my order and I just nod to indicate another martini and she simpers away with a blush. Leaving me with Beanie at a quiet table.

“What’s going on?” Usually in these long silences, Beanie always cracks first, but it seems like he’s getting better at this game.

No reaction, so I nudge him. He doesn’t say anything so I cheekily poke him under the ribs, a weak spot of his, trying to get at least some eye-rolling.

Wow. Must be something serious if he won’t even quirk a smile.

“Is something wrong?” It hadn’t occurred to me that there might be bad news.

My chair makes a horrible shriek as I slide it closer to his in preparation for a private conversation.

“It’s one of your girls, isn’t it? Has there been an accident?” Horror dawns on me as other options surface. “Was it Bana? Did he do something while he was over at your house? Did he ruin one of your Armani suits? Break something? Snore and keep you up all night? Sleep-walked and peed in your kitchen? Take too long in the bathroom?”

The last few suggestions grudgingly earn me a snort of laughter. At least we’re getting somewhere.

I nudge him again and try to peer at his eyes through the dark glasses. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking when he’s being all sullen.

“Come on, Bean! You’re just doing this to be mean. I know it.”

My drink magically appears in front of me and I eagerly take a soothing gulp. Going to need the alcohol to put up with Beanie’s less than friendly mood.

“Viggo, I am just trying to work out the best way to tell you. Just…let me do it in my own time. It’s not easy.”

Ah, so it can speak.

Gazing surreptitiously at him over the top of my menu, I try to imagine what his news could be. It must be serious, he’s not even smiling and his fingers are dancing a nervous pattern against the rim of his martini glass. He’s edgy, though he’s trying to suggest otherwise through his typical sprawling pose. Must be big news. Probably something he thinks I won’t want to hear.

Maybe another martini would help.

Well at least it wouldn’t hurt.

~~~

It’s been three martinis now. And you wouldn’t have guessed it judging by the way we’re still in exactly the same positions with exactly the same expressions on our faces we had half an hour ago.

Him – nervous tension and worry.

Me – nervous tension and frustration.

“Beanie! It can’t be that bad, just spew it out!”

I’ve had enough of this dance.

“Do you remember that woman…a little while ago, in that Japanese restaurant?” he blurts out all of a sudden.

“…Japanese restaurant?” I echo, unsure of where this is going.

“Yeah. The whole ‘Mr Beanie’ incident time?”

I somehow manage to keep my laughter reduced to a single grunt.

“Ahem, yes. I remember.”

“Well…” He’s busy fiddling around with his glass, picking it up and putting it back down until I wrench the damn thing away from him.

“Yes?”

“…she’s my new agent,” he finishes in one long exhale.

“Agent?” I echo, “What agent?”

“Agent, you know…for acting.”

It starts slowly, but the pleased smile on my face grows into a full grin.

“That’s great! I’ve been trying to get you back into acting for ages! That’s fantastic!” Well, ‘if he had something else to do, maybe he would stop hounding me about my paintings’ had been the main argument running through that idea, but I am happy for him. He loves acting, it’s in his blood. Playing agent for my art was just something to pass the time, I always assumed, though he is damn good at what he does, I do grudgingly admit.

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“Of course! You used to love it…I never worked out why you stopped anyway.”

Beanie shifts uneasily at that, but doesn’t say anything.

“Tell me more,” I prompt, “what’s the part? Are you playing a bad guy? Is it sci-fi? A period piece?” I had to ask that, Beanie in Macbeth was a classic.

“It’s not a really big part,” he hedges uncomfortably and I pat him sympathetically on the hand. Must be hard to suddenly jump back into the business and expect lead roles, that much I understand.

“You’ll work your way back up and be the mega-star you deserve to be in no time! What’s the film?”

Something is not quite right. The awkward way he’s turning away from me is just sending negative vibes all over the place.

“…the Hulk.” I can barely make out his mumbled words. Hulk?

Eh? That sounds familiar somehow…

“Isn’t Eric’s film – ” and just like that, I manage to finally make the connection. “The filming’s in Australia! Is that what’s bothering you?”

Beanie doesn’t respond, simply pulling his hand out from under mine to down the rest of his drink in one swallow.

“Hey, don’t be like that. I know you’re going to miss your girls, but it won’t be long…a month or two. Three months, max. And you can always fly back to see them.”

I don’t think I am helping, judging by the way he carelessly pushes his sunglasses up so he can rub tiredly at his eyes. My poor Beanie. He loves his daughters so much, this must have been such a tough decision to make.

“Two months isn’t long,” I cajole, “not long at all. You’ve done it before.”

And so he has, he used to fly all over the place when he was out on exotic locations filming while I was stuck in either LA or London. But he was always on the phone and always jetting back to see me and his family so it wasn’t so bad.

“This is going to be slightly longer.”

“Still can’t be that bad.”

Our conversation is put on hold as our lunch arrives and we pause to let the waiter fuss and arrange our cutlery and dishes. So when Beanie suddenly speaks again, I couldn’t follow the train of thought.

“Say that again?”

“Two years or so.”

“Two years what – oh my god. You’re going to Australia for two years??”

The jitters from just then are no longer. An eerie calm settles over both of us as I try unsuccessfully to digest his news.

“You can’t go for two years! That’s crazy!”

“Calm down, Vig – ”

“Calm down? How can you be so calm? You’re talking about uprooting your entire life and taking it to a whole different country!”

“Didn’t you do the same thing moving here?”

Damn.

“That’s totally different.” Don’t ask me to explain it, but it just is. “My son is much older…and besides, I am not all alone here. I have you. You moved over here with me.”

“And I’ll have Eric over in Melbourne,” he points out.

“That’s different! Eric’s a bastard! And I am your best friend, not him!”

I can’t believe he’s really considering moving so far away for so long.

“Viggo…”

“What kind of crappy movie takes two years to film? What kind of idiot director is doing this? What’s he doing, filming five minutes a day?”

They’re horrible things to say, but I can’t hold in all the emotions.

“You were actually right about ’Hulk’. That’s only going to take about two months. But after that, I am going to be staying in that region for another project, and that’s the one which will take a little longer.”

I still can’t think of anything to say, and it’s getting harder and harder to look him in the face, so I concentrate on violently cutting up my lunch into tiny pieces.

“Viggo…”

He taps a pattern on my hand, and it feels like some kind of Morse code being imparted on me. Reluctantly I raise my head though my eyes are fixed steadily on a point somewhere above his right shoulder.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad at me for…chasing my dream.”

I hadn’t really seen it like that. The anger in me dissipates slightly and I make an effort to at least sound interested.

“All right, you big stud. How much longer are we blessed with your presence before you leave?”

The question must have hit a sore spot because he squirms uneasily. Don’t tell me there’s more bad news…

“That’s the thing, Vig. I am flying over with Eric.”

“…with Eric? You’re leaving London in a week??”

His tiny nod of acknowledgement was barely registered before I felt the sharp sting of glass biting into my hand and I realised that I’d just thumped the martini glass down hard onto the surface of the table with a crash.

~~~

I hate it. I hate it.

And once more for the record, I hate it.

Why do all the important men in my life feel the pull of Australia? First, my god went there and I don’t even want to think back to all the turmoil I went through. And now…Beanie.

I’ve been twisting and turning in bed all night, unable to find any rest. Orlando’s lying peacefully beside me, gently wheezing in and out as he breathes. It’s odd how serene he looks and I can’t resist rolling once again so I can look into his face.

His eyes of course, are shut, and I study the way his eye lashes fan out. He has naturally curly hair and it’s also true of his lashes. If he were a woman, he wouldn’t need to curl them since nature’s done that for him, giving him those trademark puppy dog eyes. I wonder if he ever gets tired from blinking – those lashes must be heavy for his poor eyelids.

Beanie has similar long lashes as well, though his aren’t as noticeable since he’s light haired…oh damn. Beanie.

I don’t want him to go.

‘Is it only for selfish reasons?’ I wonder as I finally give up on sleep, quietly slipping out of the bed. Long shadows are cast over my god’s body and I have to squirm carefully to not wake him up though he immediately senses the lack of warmth and whines softly. My pillow squashed close to his side quietens him temporarily and I run a soothing hand through his abundant curls.

My muffin.

I didn’t lose him to Australia or Eric. And I won’t have to again. That’s one victory at least. The thought makes me smile.

It’s getting so cold in London that I need to actually pull on pants and a sweater instead of my customary robe. How quickly the weather changes…but it would be nice and sunny in Australia where Beanie will soon be. I hope it’s scorching. Burning. Roasting.

When did I become such a child…

It’s raining heavily outside when I pad outside to the dark kitchen. The wooden floor is freezing on my bare toes but I don’t like wearing socks or shoes inside the house so I always end up hopping around like a bunny, much to Orlando’s delight. I don’t feel much like skipping tonight, so I just let the cold wood floor slowly numb my feet until they no longer feel the chill.

I want him to stay for him. For his girls. Two years is a long time when they’re so young…he’s going to miss some of the most important years of being a dad.

That’s not a selfish reason for him to stay, is it? That’s for his good. Right?

And how can he possibly get everything packed, stored away, sent, sold, mortgaged within a week? It’s not physically possible. No, no, no. None of this adds up.

I should want the best for him – that’s what a true best friend would do. The best for him.

The thoughts are still swirling through my head, trying to convince myself that he’s really moving so far away from me when the water for my coffee is done.

Hot mug finally in hand, I find myself standing in the spare guest room I had always intended for my best friend. There in a corner is a box of stuff I hadn’t bothered to unpack, stuff from my younger years. It’s always been carted around with me whenever I move house, but I never both to unload the contents, simply knowing it was there has always been enough.

For the first time in a long while, I unpeel the layers of faded sticky tape and dig through the years of my younger life. There were some random trophies I had won for tennis, my badge as the swim team captain, photos I had taken in high school, notebooks filled with ramblings when I wasn’t paying attention in class…and there was Beanie.

A photo of the two of us in matching school uniforms posing together, Beanie chatting up a group of girls, us on a school camping trip, the two of us as children with my Dad on a fishing trip – me happily showing off my catch as Beanie sits scowling in the background with an empty bucket, another of Beanie in the midst of doing his trademark eye twitch, the typical photos you take when you stay over at a friend’s house – loads of Beanie sound asleep with his mouth wide open and WANKER written in permanent marker on his forehead and me cackling insanely waving a peace sign…picture after picture of the two of us having fun.

Then us as we got older and in university…us dressed up in graduation robes and grinning crookedly, the two of us drunk and squinting at the flash of the camera in the uni bar, Beanie chatting up girls again, us pulling an all-nighter trying to get our assignments done and thinking the best way to go about it was by means of caffeine pills and Red Bull – damn, I’ll never do that again, I couldn’t stop shaking for a day after that incident…

When we got older, the scenery and locations changed, the faces in the background changed but it was still the two of us. Me proudly showing off my first ‘professional’ piece of art, Beanie dressed up in a suit, me finally being able to afford my own car and the two of us taking Tooters for her first trial run, Beanie chatting up girls again…

I can’t imagine him gone from my life. He’s so ingrained that he can’t possibly be more than a fifteen minute drive away.

Reluctantly, I tuck the pictures back into the box. Then thinking again, I pull them out and carry them all to the living room. These have been hiding in a box for far too long…it’s about time someone remembered them.

Seeing all these memories, I wanted my best friend while he was still here. He’s leaving soon, and things shouldn’t end with me running out on him in a restaurant. Things shouldn’t end. Period.

Groping blindly for the phone, I fumble with the buttons; the stupid bandages around my hand slowing me down until I manage to hit the speed dial and listen to the hollow sound of the ringtone.

“…hello?”

“Beanie? It’s me.”

“Hi, Vig.” He sounds oddly relieved and I smile.

We don’t have to say anything, just knowing he’s there on the line is good enough. My heart still feels stifled and I clutch the phone tightly as I wander directionless through the dining room, kitchen and guest room.

I don’t know how to put into words what I am feeling, but I want him to know.

“Sorry…” I finally whisper.

…for being selfish

…for not wanting the best for you

…for walking out on you

…for calling you at two in the morning yet having nothing to say

…for being a lousy best friend

All those things and more.

“It’s okay…” he murmurs back.

…I understand

The silence that follows this time is more companionable and lost in my thoughts, I watch quietly from the guest room at the rain splattering down the window when a fire truck makes its noisy way down the road.

“Fire truck…” I explain needlessly.

Oddly enough, the whining is echoed on the other line and I stop abruptly.

“No…”

~~~

I don’t know whether to be surprised or not when I make my way out of Paradise’s lobby only to find Beanie’s car sitting quietly outside with her motor off.

My hands and feet really are numb now, but I climb into the passenger’s seat and turn to look at my best friend.

“Why didn’t you come up?” I ask softly.

“Didn’t want to bother.”

“You’re never a bother, Beanie…”

“I was okay down here.”

“No, it’s freezing down here.”

“Wasn’t planning to stay long.”

The idiot hadn’t left the heating on so he’s just sitting in a bitterly cold car shivering uncontrollably. I don’t think he even realises how cold he is until I wrap him in my arms and he immediately calms.

“What are you doing here, Beanie?” I venture, sincerely puzzled.

The answer is simple.

“I miss you.”

I hug him tighter to me and run my hands through his hair.

“I’ll miss you too.”

TBC...

How was that then? *Phew*

KIRAN - *Snickers* You know the beer Kirin? I think that's where my brain was, hahah!! I can't believe I got your name wrong! But look, it's 9 am now, and I've been up all night writing this little fucker...so you'll have to cut me some slack. *Collapses* How's your slashy goodness now? Good? Haha, 'what slash'?? I know you're groaning. Not my fault Orli's impotent!! I am relieved you liked the last chapter though I still believe it sucks. Seriously. Blah. But this one I like a little more. So... =P Thanks for replying, sweetie!!

Julesia - I think everyone is puzzled why Orli won't have sex!! I am the only one who really knows though. Muahaha...And you got your wish, here's more Beanie! Though it's not exactly GOOD Beanie...*sniff*

Shui - *Happily watches you in fangirl hysterics* Lookie! I updated! Aren't you pleased?? I love how you phrased it "mindless banging"...never heard it put quite like that before, and I am definitely not a fan of that, so my boys are going to wait. And Wait. And then wait some more. *evil*

actoratheart - Well, last chapter had a badness rating of 2, hmm? Well, what about this one? And bear in mind, I think this chapter is pretty good so you had better give me a good mark or else...!!

Anya - Oh honey, I am so sorry it really DID take a month to update! I am so sorry! I was kidnapped away to the country side with no internet! No slash for AGES! I really nearly did go insane, and I missed you so much too. Blah...I am never going from my internet again. *Swears* Haha... Oh, and sweetie, you're so cute. The chapters say 55, because I've written some 'interludes' but stupid AFF counts them all as chapters...so they all add up to 55 in total. *Huggles you* I laughed so hard when I read that comment from you. I was like, "Yeah...so?" Hehehe...aww!!

me - Wow! I get negative badness ratings?? *Impressed* Hahaha, well this one should be positive now, since I explained the big news you wanted to know! Although...the news in itself isn't that great. *Pout* Poor boys...

Rebekka - You really are psychic! I was just logging into AFF when your new review came up! So to you, I must have written the new chapter REALLY quickly!! *Laughing* But since you check everyday, you'll probably read this tomorrow. Hope you like it!!

I hope you guys are still enjoying this...! *Hug*
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Flying With Eagles