Archive of Our Own ^beta

Portobello Road


"...recap of the day's news...."

Viggo tossed the fabric softener sheet into the dryer, slammed the door shut and started the third and last load tumbling. He grabbed the dry pile from the top of the unit and took it into the livingroom. The television was tuned to the evening news and he listened as he folded and stacked the load of laundry.

"...is Love Bloomin' for Everyone's Favorite Superstar?..."

Viggo glanced up for the entertainment segment as it covered the most recent events in the life of Orlando Bloom. There was something about the young man that captured the attention of the public. Viggo so wanted to simply dismiss the young man as nothing more than a silly, pretty boy actor but there was something about Orlando Bloom that did not allow him to do so. Yes, younger man was handsome, some might even say beautiful with lustrous dark brown locks touched with sun-kissed auburn highlights and wavy curls and the deepest darkest brown eyes. But, he also had talent, charm and an innate goodness about him.

A picture of an eight-year-old Orlando dressed in black with a proper Amish hat was flashed on the screen....

Viggo recalled first seeing a very young Orlando in a Harrison Ford film. The young Brit portrayed a young Amish boy who had witnessed a policeman's murder. He was so believable in his very first professional role that the press and public could hardly believe that Orlando's Canterbury accent was his true speaking voice. From there it seemed he went from movie to movie, small parts mostly but obviously learning his craft and using his talents.

A candid photograph of a smiling Orlando with long blond hair and blue eyes appeared....

With talent and good looks, Orlando managed a smooth transition from child actor to adult actor. He had a knack for picking roles that stretched his abilities and his adoring fan base grew with each new project. His casting in the role of Legolas Greenleaf in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy surprised many including industry insiders who felt he chanced damaging his career by moving to New Zealand for eighteen months for the duration of the principle filming.

Orlando in the middle of a group hug with his fellow cast members from Rings at the Red Carpet premiere of the final installment of the trilogy....

It turned out to be the best decision of his career. The make-up for the character so completely altered Orlando's appearance that more than a few fans had trouble reconciling that he was indeed the long-haired blond with blue eyes and pale complexion. As with most of the actors in the trilogy, he had taken the role of the Prince of Mirkwood and imbued it with a special essence that was his own. In thirty, forty, fifty years when people read, watched and discussed Tolkien's trilogy they would envision Orlando's Legolas.

Orlando as Paris, the Prince of Troy, appeared on screen....

While 'Lord of the Rings' had been a phenomenal smash success, certainly, not all of his movies were huge hits. But it seemed even the bad ones did not effect his popularity. Currently, it seemed quite impossible it seemed to pass a newsstand or watch an entertainment news show without some article or segment about Orlando and his personal life. Viggo did not envy him for the loss of privacy, but he did find himself simply enthralled by the younger man's beauty.

*

Viggo mused that his life could not be more different from Orlando's as he smiled at familiar faces along Portobello Road. His parents had met at a book reading in New York City and were married within the week. When he was less than two months old, they moved to Denmark to be closer to his father's family. Seven years later they moved to London just in time for his sister, Christine, to make her appearance.

Later that same year, his father moved them to Greece for two years and then to Monaco. When Viggo was fourteen his parents split and Viggo, Christine and their mom settled in London and their father returned to Denmark. Viggo finished his schooling in England and attended university at Cambridge.

He met Miranda during his final year at university. They married six months after graduation. They bought a small house in Notting Hill and barely a month later his dad passed away in his sleep. Viggo used his part of the estate settlement to purchase a small shop less than eighteen hundred yards from where he lived. But somewhere along the line things went wrong in the marriage and less than a week before they would have celebrated their third anniversary Miranda left with a man that looked amazingly like a young Harrison Ford.

Viggo waved to Elijah Wood, a friend from school and former architect turned restaurant owner as he sidestepped around a flower trolley. Notting Hill's weekday market offered virtually every known vegetable and fruit known to man while weekends found hundreds of stalls seemingly appearing out of nowhere to fill the streets.

Many of friends had ended up in the area, which was sort of a village nestled in the city. Billy Boyd was a great chum, but not too good a stockbroker no matter his very hefty salary. He lived not too far from Exene. She had changed her name from Christine when she graduated as apparently she felt it was too common. She currently lived in a small walk-up and commuted daily to her job as a clerk at a tiny music shop.

Liv and Sean had a beautiful home in the area. Sean Bean had been his best mate in school and while at university and they had both fallen for the same beautiful woman the summer before their final year at university. Liv Tyler was gorgeous and brilliant and studying law with three more years to go when they all met at party. Six months later when Viggo first encountered Miranda, Liv and Sean had already become a permanent item.

He shifted the loaf of fresh bread to his left arm as he hurried up the steps to a bright blue door. With practiced ease, he quickly unlocked the multiple locks, stepped in and relocked everything. "Dom!" Viggo shook his head and moved an old ten-speed bike from the middle of the entranceway to lean against the wall.

"Hey." Dom bounded down the steps. Barefoot and wearing only shorts with a scraggly beard and wild dirty blond hair, the young Welshman actually seemed relieved that Viggo was home. "You couldn't help me with an incredibly important decision, could you?"

"This is important in comparison to, let's say, whether they should cancel third world debt?" Viggo asked as he walked through to the tiny kitchen.

"That's right." Dom grinned. "I'm at last going out on a date with the great Phillippa and I just want to be sure I've picked the right t-shirt."

"What are the choices?" Viggo set the bread on the counter and tipped the toaster over the sink to shake out bits of browned and burnt bread.

"Well... wait for it...." He pulled on a t-shirt. "First there's this one...." The white shirt had a horrible plastic alien bursting from the chest, jaws open and blood everywhere. It read 'I Love Blood'.

"Yes, thought it might make it hard to strike a really romantic note." Viggo put two pieces of bread in the toaster and pushed the lever down.

"Point taken." Dom headed back up the stairs. "I suspect you'll prefer the next one." He bounced down the stairs with another white t-shirt that sported a huge arrow pointing down to his crotch. It read 'Get It Here'. "Cool, huh?"

"Yes." Viggo touched the lever on toaster and the bread popped up. "But she might think you don't have true love on your mind."

"Oh, wouldn't want that." Dom hurried back up the stairs. "Okay -- just one more." When he returned the new t-shirt was covered with hearts and said 'You're the most beautiful woman in the world'.

"Well, yes, that's perfect." Viggo nodded as he spread jam on his toast. "Well done."

"Thanks." Dom smiled, certain he was now dressed appropriately. "Great. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Viggo sighed when his boarder headed up the stairs and he saw the back of the perfect t-shirt'. It read "Fancy a Fuck?'

*

"Classic." Viggo sighed as he hit the TOTAL button on the calculator. "Absolutely classic. Profit from major sales push... minus 347." He ran his hand through his untidy sandy blond hair.

"Shall I go get a cappuccino?" Barrie Osbourne asked. "Ease the pain." He was the Travel Book Shoppe's assistant manager, stockperson and clerk and Viggo's only employee. Barrie was nice enough, if seemingly a bit addled at times.

"Yes, better get me a half. All I can afford." He smiled and started piling the papers neatly.

"I get your logic. Demi-capu coming up." Barrie saluted and hurried out of the shop, nearly bumping into the man just entering.

"Can I help you?" Viggo tilted his head trying to see around the bookcase.

"No thanks." The gentleman smiled and his face was mostly hidden by dark glasses and a hat. "I'll just look around."

"Fine." Viggo turned back to his work at the counter, but he noticed the younger man looking at a very prettily published coffee table book. "That book's really not good," he interjected. "Just in case, you know, browsing turned to buying. You'd be wasting your money."

"Really?"

"Yes." Viggo picked up a smaller book from the counter. "This one though is... very good." He held it up. "I think the man who wrote it has actually been to Turkey, which helps. There's also a very amusing incident with a kebab."

"Thanks." The young man smiled. "I'll think about it."

Viggo turned abruptly when something on a small television monitor caught his attention. "If you could just give me a second." He headed toward the back of the shop. "Excuse me."

"Yes." The man jumped and looked at Viggo furtively.

"Bad news."

"What?" The man, dressed in rumpled, somewhat less than clean clothes backed up slightly.

"We've got a security camera in this bit of the shop." Viggo pointed to a small camera in a high corner aimed directly at them.

"So?" the man tried to bluff.

"So, I saw you put that book down your trousers." Viggo motioned towards the thief.

"What book?"

"The one down your trousers." Viggo found himself wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"I haven't got a book down my trousers," the thief denied.

"Right." Viggo looked around. "Well, then we have something of an impasse. I tell you what... I'll call the police." He fixed the would-be thief with a hard stare. "And what can I say?... If I'm wrong about the whole book-down-the-trousers scenario, I really apologize."

"Okay." The man swallowed a bit nervously. "What if I did have a book down my trousers?"

"Well, ideally, when I went back to the desk, you'd remove the 'Frommer's Guide to Bali' from your trouser, and either wipe it and put it back or buy it. See you in a sec." Viggo returned to the sales desk. On the monitor, he watched as the would-be thief pulled the book from his pants and replaced it on the shelf. The man then drifted toward the front door.

Viggo looked up again as the young man placed the coffee table Turkey book on the counter. "Sorry about that...."

"No, that's fine." He gave the older man a tiny smile. "I was going to steal one myself but now I've changed my mind." He looked inside the book Viggo had recommended. "Signed by the author, I see."

"Yes, we couldn't stop him." Viggo shrugged. "If you can find an unsigned copy, it's worth an absolute fortune." His customer arched an eyebrow.

"Excuse me." The thief had returned.

"Yes." Orlando Bloom pulled the dark glasses off.

"Can I have your autograph?" The thief handed Orlando a crumpled piece of paper.

"What's your name?"

"Andy. Andy Serkis," the man supplied. He eagerly reached for the bit of paper when Orlando finished. "What does it say?" The scruffy man squinted at the paper.

"Well, that's my signature." Orlando pointed. "And above, it says 'Dear Andy -- you belong in jail.'"

"Nice one. Would you like my phone number?" the thief offered.

"Tempting...." Orlando slipped his dark glassed back on. "But no, thank you." The little man just nodded and scurried out the door.

"I think I will try this one." Orlando handed Viggo a 20 note and the book he had described as rubbish.

"Oh, right." He rang in the sale and bagged the book. "On second thought maybe it wasn't that bad. Actually, it's a sort of masterpiece really. None of those childish kebab stories you get in so many travel books these days. And I'll throw in one of these for free." He dropped in one of the signed books. "Very useful for lighting fires, wrapping fish, that sort of things...."

"Thanks." Orlando gave him another small smile and left.

Viggo was still in a daze when Barrie returned. "Cappuccino as ordered."

"Thanks." He accepted the insulated cup. "I don't think you'll believe who was just in here."

"Who? Someone famous?" Barrie looked out the front window.

Viggo paused. "No. No one... no one." Somehow it did not seem right to share his brush with Orlando Bloom. He drank his cappuccino.

"Would be exciting if someone famous did come into the shop though, wouldn't it?" Barrie babbled. "Do you know -- this is pretty incredible actually -- I once saw Ringo Starr. Or at least I think it was Ringo. It might have been that bloke from 'Fiddler on the Roof' Toppy."

"Topol," Viggo corrected.

"That's right." Barrie nodded. "Topol."

"But Ringo Starr doesn't look anything like Topol." Viggo frowned as he finished his drink.

"No, well...." Barrie shrugged. "He was quite a long way away."

"So it could have been neither of them?"

"I suppose so." Barrie seemed a bit deflated.

"Right. It's not a classic anecdote, is it?"

"Not classic, no." Barry shook his head.

"Right." Viggo tossed his empty cup into the wastebasket next to the counter. "Want another one?"

"Yes," Barry started. "No, wait, let's go crazy. I'll have an orange juice."

*

"Thanks." Viggo pocketed his change and picked up the huge cinnamon roll, napkins and large cup of orange juice. He headed back toward the book shop. There was a rough patch of sidewalk near the corner and he looked down to negotiate around it....

And bumped directly into Orlando. The orange juice exploded out of its cup and soaked both Viggo and Orlando.

"Oh, Christ!"

"Bugger! Bugger! Here, let me help." Viggo dabbed at the younger man's sodden shirt.

"What are you doing?!" Orlando waved him off.

"Nothing, nothing...." He felt terrible about the incident. "Look, I live just over the street. You could get cleaned up."

"No thank you." Orlando looked down at himself and then at the street. "I need to get my car back."

"I also have a phone," he added. "I'm confident that in five minutes we can have you spick and span and back on the street again... in the non-prostitute sense obviously."

The younger man studied him for a moment. "Okay. So what does 'just over the street' mean? Give it to me in yards."

"Eighteen yards." He pointed across the street. "That's my house there... with the blue door."

*

"Come on in." Viggo ushered Orlando in. "I'll just...." He hurried further into the house. It was a mess. He quickly kicked some old shoes under the stairs, tossed an unfinished pizza into the garbage bin and stuffed a half-eaten bowl of cereal in a cupboard.

"It's not that tidy, I fear." He guided Orlando to the stairs. "The bathroom is right at the top of the stairs." He took the bag of books from the younger man. "There's a phone on the desk up there."

Orlando headed up the stairs with his remaining bags from several stylish shops.

*

Viggo tidied the kitchen frantically until he heard Orlando's step on the stairs. The younger had put on a silk shirt with a mandarin collar that shimmered in the light and shifted from light green to pale yellow. It was perhaps a bit too dressy for the short black leather jacket, tight jeans and trainers that completed his outfit, but Viggo was hard put not to drool.

"Would you like a cup of tea before you go?"

"No thanks."

"Coffee?" he offered.

"No."

"Orange juice?" He paused. "Probably not." He opened his fridge. "Something else cold? Coke, water, some disgusting sugary drink pretending to have something to do with fruits of the forest?"

"Really, no." Orlando smiled and shook his head.

"Would you like something to nibble?" He glanced in his very nearly empty fridge. "Apricots soaked in honey? Quite why, no one knows. Because it stops them tasting of apricots and makes them taste like honey but if you wanted honey you'd just buy honey, instead of apricots, but nevertheless...." He smiled nervously. "There we go -- yours if you want them."

"No."

"Do you always say 'no' to everything?" he asked.

After a long moment, "No." Orlando slipped his sunglasses on. "I better be going. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome and, may I also say...." He took a deep breath before continuing, "...heavenly."

Orlando pulled off the dark glasses and gave him an odd look. "I had to take my one chance to say it. After you've read that terrible book, you're certainly not going to be coming back to the shop."

The younger man smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Thank you."

"Yes. Well," Viggo guided Orlando to the front entrance, "my pleasure."

Once again, the younger man put his glasses on.

"Nice to meet you. Surreal but nice." Viggo opened the door and the younger man left. When the door clicked shut, he groaned. "'Surreal but nice.' What was I thinking?" He shook his head and headed back toward the kitchen.

There was a knock at the door.

"Coming." He turned back and opened the door. Orlando was standing on the top step. "Oh, hi...."

"I forgot my bag."

"Oh, right." He quickly retrieved the bag from the kitchen and handed it to the younger man. "Here we go."

"Thanks. Well...."

They stood for a long moment unmoving, then Orlando leaned in and kissed the older man. It was not quite chaste and when it ended Viggo felt slightly out of breath.

"I apologize for the 'surreal but nice' comment. Disaster...." he rambled.

"Don't worry about it." Orlando grinned. "I thought the apricot and honey business was the real low point."

A key clicked in the deadbolt.

"Oh, my God," Viggo groaned. "My flatmate. I'm sorry. There's no excuse for him."

Dominic Monaghan walked in. "Hi."

"Hi." Orlando looked at the man dressed in grubby old jeans and a t-shirt that had more holes than cloth. Dom headed to the kitchen.

"Hi." Viggo just shook his head as Dom remained oblivious.

"I'm just going to get some food," he called over his shoulder. "And then I'm going to tell you a story that will make your balls shrink to the size of raisins."

Viggo and Orlando shared a look. "Probably best not tell anyone about this." Orlando smiled again.

"Right. No one." Viggo nodded. "I mean, I'll tell myself sometimes but... don't worry... I won't believe it."

"Bye." Orlando brushed Viggo's hand as he left the house.

"There's something wrong with this yogurt," Dom commented as he swirled his spoon in a creamy substance in a styrofoam container.

"It's not yogurt, it's mayonnaise."

"Well, there you go." He gulped another big spoonful. "On for a video fest tonight? I've got some absolute classics."

*

It seemed to be fate. Dom's choices for a video fest consisted of three of Orlando's most recent films. 'Gramercy Park' was a stylish sophisticated comedy filmed in black and white. Viggo found he was drawn in by Orlando's character.

Dom and he gasped when Orlando smiled. It was not just a polite smile or a casual grin, but a dazzling moment of white teeth and a crinkle of laugh lines that reached the sparkling brown eyes.

"Imagine -- somewhere in the world there's a bird or bloke who's allowed to kiss him," Dom whispered.

"Yes, he is fairly fabulous." Viggo attention was riveted to the screen.

*

"Do you have any books by Dickens?"

"No, we're a travel bookshop." Viggo waved a hand at the bookcases and displays. "We only sell travel books."

"Oh, right. How about that new John Grisham thriller?" The man was nondescript, not the sort anyone would recall normally, but he was fast approaching annoying.

"No, that's a novel too."

"Oh, right." The man glanced around. "Have you got a copy of 'Winnie the Pooh'?"

"Barrie?" Viggo turned and called into the back office. "Your customer."

"May I help you?" Barry approached with a smile.

Viggo looked out the shop window and blinked. A bus passed the window with a huge advertisement for 'Helix', the latest Orlando Bloom movie. A huge picture of Orlando Bloom's face dominated the poster. Viggo realized that even with the nearly buzz cut length hair Orlando still looked drop-dead gorgeous.

*

Viggo paused on his way up the stairs and stared at Dom. The Welshman was wearing full body scuba diving gear with black leggings and florescent orange top jacket.

"Hey."

"Hi." Viggo turned to watch his flatmate descend the stairs.

*

"Just incidentally," Viggo glanced at Dom, "why are you wearing that?" He stirred his tea before taking a sip.

"Ahm." Dom flicked cigarette ashes into the kitchen sink. "Combination of factors really." He stuffed a large spoonful of cereal into his mouth and swallowed quickly. "No clean clothes...."

"There never will be," Viggo gave Dom a hard look, "you know, unless you actually clean your clothes."

"Right. Vicious circle." Dom took a quick drag from the cigarette and flicked the butt into the sink. "And then I was like rooting around in your things and found this and I thought... cool. Kind of spacy."

*

Viggo absently set the empty glass on the table. He turned the page of the newspaper and glanced over at Dom. The Welshman was sprawled inelegantly on a section of roof. It was a nice day, sunny with a breeze and the view was rather nice from the rooftop terrace.

"There's something wrong with these goggles though...." Dom squinted through them at Viggo.

"No, they're prescription." Viggo returned to the newspaper. "...So I could see all the fishes properly."

"Groovy."Dom leaned back to look up at the blurry clouds still wearing the goggles. "You should do more of this stuff."

"So," Viggo prompted, "any messages?"

"Yeh, I wrote a couple down."

"Two? That's it?" He folded the paper neatly.

"You want me to write down all your messages?" Dom sounded amazed at the mere thought.

"Who were the ones you didn't write down from?" Viggo closed his eyes and blew out a long sigh, trying to release his exasperation.

"Ahm, let's see... ahm." Dom got up and settle in a chair. "...No, gone completely. Oh no, wait. There was... one from your mum. She said don't forget lunch and her leg's hurting again."

"Right." Viggo nodded. "No one else?"

"Absolutely not." Dom propped his dirty bare feet on an empty chair and leaned back. "Though if we're going for this obsessive writing-down-all-messages thing... some bloke named Orlando called a few days ago."

Viggo froze, forgetting to breathe for a moment. "What did he say?"

"Well, it was genuinely bizarre...." He seemed perplexed as he concentrated on recalling the details. "He said, 'Hi, it's Orlando.' And then he said, 'call me at the Ritz.' Dom scratched his head. "And then gave himself a completely different name."

"Which was?" Viggo sat forward in his chair.

"Absolutely no idea." Dom shook his head. "Remembering one name's bad enough...."

*

"Hello?" Viggo held the cordless phone to his ear as he paced.

"May I help you, sir?"

"Ahm, look this is a very odd situation." He stopped pacing long enough to glare at the back of Dom's head. "I'm a friend of Orlando Bloom's and he rang me at home the day before yesterday... and left a message saying he's staying with you...."

"I'm sorry. We don't have anyone of that name here, sir." The clerk sounded bored.

"No, that's right... I know that." Viggo began pacing again. "He said he's using another name, but the problem is he left the message with my flatmate, which was a serious mistake."

Dom was sprawled on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table as he read the comics section of the daily paper.

"Imagine if you will the stupidest person you've ever met," Viggo paused. "Are you doing that...?"

"Yes, sir, I have him in my mind."

"And then double it." Viggo glared again at the back of Dom's head. "And that is the... what can I say... git I'm living with and he cannot remember...."

"Try 'Flintstone,'" Dom tossed over his shoulder.

"What?" Viggo put his hand over the mouthpiece.

"I think he said his name was 'Flintstone.'"

"Does 'Flintstone' mean anything to you?" Viggo spoke into the receiver.

"I'll put you right through, sir."

"Oh, my God." Viggo resumed pacing, now nervous about what to say. "Hello. Hi. Hi." He tried a couple of different greetings and tones.

"Hi."

"Oh, hi," he barely managed to respond, then he rambled, "It's Viggo Mortensen. We, ahm, I work in a bookshop."

"You played it pretty cool here, waiting for three days to call."

"No, I've never played anything cool in my entire life." He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Dom, who I'll stab to death later, never gave me the message."

"Oh... Okay."

"Perhaps I could... umm... drop round for tea or something?" Viggo suggested.

"Yeh...." Orlando paused. "Unfortunately, things are going to be pretty busy, but... okay, let's give it a try. Four o'clock could be good."

"Right. Great." Viggo disconnected the call and stared at the receiver for a long moment. "Classic. Classic."

*

Viggo glanced around the Ritz's elegant lobby as he headed for the bank of lifts. He pushed the call button and waited. He wondered for the fiftieth time if he should ditch the tiny bouquet of yellow tea roses he had brought with him. It had not seemed right to come empty handed, but he was uncertain whether Orlando would appreciate such a gift.

Somewhere over the years he had followed the younger man's career he recalled that in several interviews it had been mentioned that he loved roses, yellow tea roses to be precise. Yellow was Orlando's favorite color and more often than not he managed to wear something yellow even if it was not readily apparent. Viggo had wondered if that meant the actor wore yellow briefs or boxers under his costumes.

The doors to the lift on his right opened and a man wearing a lanyard around his neck joined him as he stepped in. "Which floor?"

"Three."

Viggo pressed the button and frowned when he realized that the man was a journalist from 'Time Out' as it was clearly displayed on his press pass that labeled him as Hugo Weaving.

When the doors finally opened, Viggo headed to the right and realized after a few steps that the journalist was following him. They slowed when they reached room 38. Viggo hesitated for a moment before he knocked.

"Hello, I'm Ngila." The young woman was all smiles as she ushered them into the huge suite. "Sorry. Things are running a bit late. Here's the thing...." Ngila handed each of them an expensively produced, slick-looking press kit with the poster picture of Orlando. Viggo frowned but followed behind the woman as she led them into a large waiting area filled with journalists.

"What did you think of the film?" Ngila looked to Viggo and Hugo.

"Marvellous." Hugo smiled. "'Close Encounters' meets 'Jean De Florette.' Oscar winning stuff."

When Ngila and Hugo turned to Viggo, he nodded, "I agree."

"I'm sorry. I didn't get down what magazines you're from." Ngila consulted a clipboard.

"'Time Out,'" Hugo told him.

"Great." She checked off something on a sheet. "And you...."

"Umm...." Viggo saw a magazine on an end table. "'Horse and Hound.' The name's Viggo Mortensen. I think he might be expecting me."

"Okay." She nodded. "Take a seat. I'll check."

"You've brought him flowers?" Hugo seemed surprised as they sat.

"No...." Viggo tried for a cover story. "They're... for my grandmother. She's in a hospital nearby. Thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."

"I'm sorry. Which hospital?"

"Do you mind me not saying?" He tried to make it sound imperative. "It's a rather distressing disease and the name of the hospital rather gives it away."

"Oh sure. Of course." Hugo nodded sympathetically.

"Mr. Mortensen?" Ngila had returned. "Please follow me." She led him down a corridor. "You've got five minutes." After a quick knock on the door, Ngila opened it and ushered Viggo in. She smiled at him and closed the door quietly.

Viggo blinked when he saw Orlando standing by the windows. "Hi."

"Hello." Viggo realized Orlando looked tired despite the bright smile.

"I brought these...." Viggo offered the small bouquet. "...but clearly...." There were a lot of flowers in the room.

"Oh no, no -- these are great." Orlando accepted the roses and smiled. This time the smile reached his eyes as he breathed in their light scent. He waved Viggo to a seat.

"Sorry about not ringing back." He sat on the edge of a loveseat as Orlando took a seat in a matching armchair. "The whole two names concept was totally too much for my flatmate's pea-sized intellect."

"No, it's a stupid privacy thing." He waved away Viggo attempt to apologize. "I always choose a cartoon character. Last time out, I was Mr. Bambi."

There was a rap on the door and a dark-haired man walked in. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, thanks, Mark," Orlando answered.

"And you are from 'Horse and Hound' magazine?" Mark asked.

Viggo nodded and Orlando looked at him strangely for a moment. "Is that so?" Viggo shrugged slightly as Mark sorted through a pile of papers on a little desk in the corner.

"So I'll just fire away, shall I?" Viggo felt on the spot as Orlando nodded.

"Right. Ahm... the film's great...." He muddled along. "And I just wondered -- whether you ever thought of having more... horses in it?"

"Well... we would have liked to...." Viggo noticed the twinkled in the younger man's dark eyes. "...but it was difficult, obviously, being set in space."

"Obviously. Very difficult." Viggo wanted to just crawl into a hole about then. There was a small click of the door as Mark left the room.

"I'm sorry." Viggo put his head in his hands. "I arrived outside... they thrust this thing into my hand." He showed Orlando the press kit. "I didn't know what to do."

"No, it's my fault." Orlando shook his head. "I thought this would all be over by now. I just wanted to sort of apologize for the kissing thing. I seriously don't know what got in to me. I just wanted to make sure you were fine about it."

"Absolutely fine about it." Viggo was uncertain how he should feel about Orlando's apology. But the door opened again and Mark walked in and headed to the desk.

"Do remember that Mister Bloom is also keen to talk about his next project, which is shooting later in the summer," Mark prompted.

"Oh, yes. Excellent." Viggo had not a clue. "Ahm... any horses in that one? Or hounds, of course. Our readers are equally intrigued by both species."

"It takes place on a submarine." Viggo could see the twinkle in the dark eyes. Orlando was definitely amused.

"Yes. Right." He was starting to wish that Dom had never recalled the special name. "But if there were horses, would you be riding them yourself or would you be getting a stunt horse person double sort of thing?" He heard the door close behind them as Mark left.

"I'm just a complete moron. Sorry." He could not even look up at the younger man. "This is the sort of thing that happens in dreams... not in real life. Good dreams, obviously... it's a dream to see you." He managed a quick glance up.

"And what happens next in the dream?" It sounded like a challenge.

"Well, I suppose in the dream scenario," he sat up and looked the younger man directly in the eye, "I just... ahm, change my personality, because you can do that in dreams, and walk across and kiss the guy, but you know it'll never happen."

They started toward each other only to have Mark walk in once again.

"Time's up, I'm afraid. Sorry it was so short. Did you get what you wanted?" he asked Viggo.

"Very nearly."

"Maybe time for one last question?" Mark offered and Orlando nodded.

"Right." Alone for just a few last seconds, Viggo asked, "Are you busy tonight?"

"Yes."

The door opened and Mark entered with another journalist in tow. Orlando and Viggo shook hands.

"Well, it was nice to meet you. Surreal but nice." The younger man's eyes twinkled.

"Thank you. You are 'Horse and Hound's' favorite actor." Viggo nodded. "You and Black Beauty. Tied."

*

Viggo sighed with relief and not a little disappointment. He had never pictured spending time with Orlando Bloom in quite this fashion. He was about to make good his escape when Ngila turned up.

"If you'd like to come with me we can rush you through the others." She ushered him down another corridor.

"The others?"

*

Viggo's head was aching by the time he had finished the last of his interviews. David Wenham had been delightful. Kate Beckinsale had been sweet and gorgeous. But the others had left him wishing he had managed to escape.

The interview with Naomi Watson had completely proven to him he was out of step with the world. "Is this your first film?"

"No." The eleven-year-old actress managed to convey her scorn quite clearly. "It's my twenty-second."

"Of course it is." He nodded. "Any favourite among the 22?"

"Working with Leonardo."

"Da Vinci?" He felt more than a bit lost.

"Di Caprio." She rolled her eyes.

"Of course. And is he your favourite Italian film director?...."

*

He had made it to main suite door and had his hand on the doorknob.

"Mr. Mortensen?"

"Yes?" He froze and turned around trying to resurrect a smile.

"Have you got a moment?" He wanted to say no, but he found himself nodding and he followed her once again.

*

"Come in."

Viggo smiled, a genuine smile, when he was shown into Orlando's suite. Ngila closed the door quietly as she left.

"Umm...." Viggo noticed that Orlando had kicked off his shoes and that he had pulled his shirt tails out. "That thing I was doing tonight... I'm not doing it any more. I told them I had to spend the evening with Britain's premier equestrian journalist."

Viggo grinned, his heart beating faster. "Oh well, great. Perfect." He closed his eyes and grimaced. "Oh, no.... Shittity brickitty!" He could not believe he had forgotten. "It's my sister's birthday.... Shit! We're meant to be having dinner."

"Okay... fine."

"But no," he continued, "I'm sure I can get out of it." Exene would understand if he missed just one birthday dinner.

"No." Orlando shook his head. "I mean, if it's fine with you, I'll, you know, be your date."

"You'll be my date at my little sister's birthday party?"

"If that's all right."

"I'm sure it's all right." Viggo could not quite believe that Orlando wanted to accompany him to dinner. "My friend Sean is cooking and he's acknowledged to be the worst cook in the world, but you know, you could hide the food in your pocket or something."

"Okay." Orlando grinned.

"Okay."

*

"He's bringing a girl?" Sean asked as he selected a bottle of dressing from the refrigerator.

"Miracles do happen." Liv smiled and balanced the bowl on her lap and wheeled it over to the dinning room table.

"Does the girl have a name?" Sean wiped his hands and looked around the kitchen.

"He wouldn't say," Liv called over her shoulder

"Christ, what is going on in there?" He hurried over to the oven where smoke was just starting to escape around the door. The doorbell chimed. "Oh God. It's bad timing." He hurried to the front door.

"Come on in." Sean opened the front door without looking at Viggo and Orlando standing there. "Vague food crisis."

Viggo and Orlando exchanged amused looks and walked down the hallway.

"Hiya." Liv drew their attention to the livingroom. "Sorry, the guinea fowl is proving more complicated than expected."

"He's cooking guinea fowl?" Viggo did not sound too sure about it.

"Don't even ask." Liv shook her head.

"Hi." Orlando smiled.

"Hi. Good Lord...." For all that she was a highly successful lawyer, capable of quick decisions Liv gaped at the young man. "You're the spitting image of...."

"Liv." Viggo stepped in. "This is Orlando."

"Right."

"Okay, crisis over." Sean switched exhaust the fan on and turned to his guests.

"Sean. This is Orlando."

"Hello." He reached to shake hands. "Orlando...." He froze for a second. "Bloom... have some wine."

"Thank you."

The doorbell once again chimed. Sean went to answer it.

"Hi." Exene posed for him in her new party dress.

"Yes, happy birthday." She pecked him on the cheek and headed for the kitchen.

"Look, your brother has brought this guy, and uh...."

"Hi guys...." Exene saw Orlando. "Oh, holy fuck."

"Exene." Viggo made the introductions again. "This is Orlando. Orlando -- this is Exene -- she's my baby sister."

"Hi."

"Oh, God, this is one of these key moments in life when it's possible you can be really, genuinely cool." She rattled on a mile a minute. "And I'm going to fail a hundred percent. I absolutely and totally and utterly adore you and I think you're the most beautiful man in the world and more importantly I genuinely believe and have believed for some time now that we can be best friends. What do you think?"

"Uhmmm... I think that sounds...." Orlando was not quite certain how to respond. "You know... lucky me." He handed her a present. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, my God. You gave me a present. We're best friends already." Her hair was done up in multiple ponytails and braids that bobbed as she babbled. "Marry Vig, he's a really nice guy and then we can be siblings."

"I'll think about it." He grinned at Viggo.

The doorbell rang again. "That'll be Billy." Sean went to answer it.

"Hello, Billy."

"I'm sorry I'm so late. Bollocksed up at work again, I fear. Millions down the drain." Billy did not sound in the least upset over work as he followed Sean into the livingroom.

"Billy." Sean smiled as he did the introductions. "This is Orlando."

"Hello, Orlando, delighted to meet you." Billy turned to the birthday girl. "Exene Bunny -- happy birthday to you." He handed her a wrapped box. "It's a hat. You don't have to wear it or anything."

*

"You haven't slept with him, have you?" He handed Viggo a basket to put the rolls in.

"That is a cheap question and the answer is, of course, no comment." He carefully peeled the slightly too brown rolls from the hot baking sheet and put them in the basket.

"'No comment means' means yes,'" Sean pointed out as he tipped the French-cut green beans into a serving dish.

"No, it doesn't." Viggo covered the rolls with a cloth.

"Do you ever masturbate?" Sean drained the water from the boiled potatoes into the sink.

"Definitely no comment."

"You see." Sean pointed out. "It means 'yes.'"

*

"So tell me, Orlando...." Billy sipped his wine. "What do you do?"

"I'm an actor." Orlando was greatly amused that Billy had not a clue to his real identity.

"Splendid." Billy nodded. "I'm actually in the stock market so not really similar fields. Though I have done some amateur stuff.... P.G. Wodehouse, you know. Farce, all that. 'Ooh -- careful there, vicar.' Always imagined it's a pretty tough job, though, acting. I mean the wages are a scandal, aren't they?"

"Well, they can be," Orlando admitted.

"I see friends from university... clever chaps... been in the business longer than you...." Billy tilted his glass toward the other man. "They're scraping by on seven, eight thousand a year. It's no life. What sort of acting do you do?"

"Films mainly."

"Oh splendid. Well done. How's the pay in movies? I mean, last film you did, what did you get paid?"

Orlando deadpanned, "Fifteen million dollars."

"Right, right." Billy's eyebrows rose, but he pushed on. "So that's... fairly good. On the high side.... Have you tried the nuts?"

"Right." Sean drew everyone's attention. "I think we're ready."

"Liv, I wonder if you could tell me where the...?"

"Oh, it's just down the corridor on the right." Liv pointed.

"I'll show you," Exene volunteered.

There was a long moment as everyone waited. The moment Exene and Orlando were out of earshot, "Quickly, quickly." Liv turned the wheelchair toward Viggo. "Talk very quickly what are you doing here with Orlando Bloom?"

"Orlando Bloom?" Billy asked.

"Yes," Liv confirmed.

"The movie star?" Billy's voice rose.

"Yup."

"Oh, God. Oh, God." Billy put his face in his hands for a moment. "Oh, Goddy God."

"I don't believe it." Exene blushed. "I walked into the loo with him. I was still talking when he started unbuttoning his jeans... He had to ask me to leave."

*

"What do you think of the guinea fowl?" Liv asked quietly. The poor fowl was definitely a bit well-done for its time in the oven.

"I'm a vegetarian." Orlando leaned closer to his hostess.

"Oh, God." Liv looked at her husband as he returned to the conservatory.

"So what did you think of the guinea fowl?" he asked Orlando.

"Best guinea fowl I've ever tasted." Liv and Viggo shared a smile. Orlando was certainly cool.

*

Dinner wound down slowly with much conversation, laughter and gifts for the birthday girl. Finally, they passed around a platter with freshly baked brownies.

"Having you here, Orlando, firmly establishes what I've long suspected." Sean took the platter with one extra brownie and set it on the table beside his coffee cup. "That we really are the most desperate lot of under-achievers."

"Shame!" Billy called out around the brownie he was munching on.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing." Sean paused. "In fact, I think it's something we should take pride in. I'm going to give the last brownie as a prize to the saddest act here."

After only the briefest of delays, Viggo and everyone looked at Billy.

"Billy." Everyone laughed.

"Well, obviously it's me, isn't it?" He shrugged. "I work in the city in a job I don't understand and everyone keeps getting promoted above me. I haven't had a girlfriend since... puberty." There was more laughter on that comment. "And, well, the long and short of it is, nobody fancies me, and if these cheeks get any chubbier, they never will."

"Nonsense." Exene lit a cigarette. "I fancy you. Or I did before you got so fat."

"You see." Sean shook his head at Billy. "And unless I'm much mistaken, your job still pays you rather a lot of money." He turned to the birthday girl. "While Exene here, she earns nothing flogging her guts out at London's seediest record store."

"Yes. And I don't have hair -- I've got feathers." She shook her head and the tails and braids bobbed. "And I've got funny goggly eyes, and I'm attracted to cruel men and ... noone will ever marry me because my boobies have actually started shrinking."

"You see." Sean looked to the others for confirmation. "Incredibly sad."

"On the other hand, her best friend is Orlando Bloom," Liv pointed out.

"That's true, I can't deny it." Exene grinned and everyone laughed. "He needs me, what can I say?"

"And most of her limbs work whereas I'm stuck in this thing day and night in a house full of ramps. And to add insult to serious injury -- I've totally given up smoking, my favourite thing." She shared a glance with Sean. "And the truth is... we can't have a baby." The room was deadly silent.

"Liv." Viggo sounded as shocked as Billy and Exene looked.

"C'est la vie." She smiled weakly. "We're lucky in lots of ways, but... surely it's worth a brownie."

Viggo reached for her hand.

"Well, I don't know." Sean looked at Viggo. "Look at Viggo. He's very unsuccessful professionally, divorced, used to be handsome now kind of squidgy around the edges." He grinned. "And absolutely certain never to hear from Orlando again after he's heard that his nickname at school was...."

"Oh, please don't," Viggo pleaded. "No. No. No--"

Sean and Billy spoke in unison, "Floppy!" Everyone laughed.

"You did. I can't believe you did." He smiled though. "Thanks a lot." Viggo looked around the table. "So I get the brownie?"

"I think you do, yes," Sean admitted.

"Wait a minute. What about me?" Orlando interrupted.

"I'm sorry?" Sean's eyebrows rose. "You think you deserve the brownie?"

"Well," Orlando glanced around the table, "... a shot at it at least."

"You'll have to prove it," Viggo informed him. "This is a great brownie and I'm going to fight for it. State your claim."

"Well, I've been on a diet since I was eighteen, which means basically I've been hungry for a decade. I've had a sequence of not nice girlfriends and boyfriends, one of whom hit me. Every time my heart gets broken it gets splashed across the newspapers as entertainment. Meantime, I broke my back when I was nineteen." Everyone nodded as they recalled the newspaper reports. "But it was played down by my manager and mother so much that most of the tabloids now treat my four months in and out of rehab as if I was merely getting cleaned up from some stupid little drug addiction."

"Really?" Exene sounded shocked.

"Really." Orlando nodded. "And one day, not long from now... my looks will go, they'll find out I can't act and I'll become a sad middle-aged man who looks a bit like someone who was famous for a while...."

Everyone was silent.

"Nah!!!" Sean shook his head. "Nice try, gorgeous... but you don't fool anyone." Everyone laughed including Orlando.

"Pathetic effort to hog the brownie." Viggo bit into the chocolate prize.

*

"That was such a great evening." Orlando shook hands with Sean.

"I'm delighted." Sean's eyes widened when Orlando pulled him into a hug.

"And may I say that's a gorgeous tie."

Sean looked down at his tie. "Now you're lying."

"You're right." The younger man grinned unrepentant. "I told you I was bad at acting."

Orlando leaned down to give Liv a quick peck on the cheek. "Lovely to meet you."

"And you." Liv smiled. "I'll wait till you've gone before I tell him you're a vegetarian."

"No!"

"Night." Orlando gave Sean a weak shrug and turned to Viggo's sister. "Night, Exene."

"I'm so sorry about the loo thing. I meant to leave but I just...." Exene prattled on. "...Look, ring me if you need someone to go shopping with. I know lots of nice, cheap places... not that money necessarily...."

"It was nice to meet you." Orlando squeezed her hand. "From now on you are my style guru."

"Can I just?...." Exene gave him a huge hug.

Orlando and Viggo headed to the door.

"Love your work," Billy called after them as the door was closing.

*

Viggo and Orlando had not quite reached the sidewalk when from inside the house they heard a massive and hysterical scream from his friends.

"Sorry." Viggo was embarrassed. "They always do that when I leave the house.... I hate it."

The evening air was cool and Orlando pulled the white buttoned shirt closed over the pale yellow t-shirt he wore underneath. "Floppy, huh?" He grinned.

"It's the hair! It's to do with the hair." Viggo combed his fingers through his hair.

"Why is she in a wheelchair?"

"It was an accident... about eighteen months ago," Viggo explained.

"And the pregnancy thing... is that to do with the accident?" Orlando followed up.

"You know, I'm not sure." Viggo looked at the younger man as they walked along the sidewalk. "I don't think they'd tried for kids before, as fate would have it." Traffic was light and they did not pass anyone as they continued their walk. "Would you like to come...." Viggo gestured vaguely to the left. "...my house is just...?"

"Too complicated." Orlando smiled but shook his head.

"That's fine." Viggo nodded.

"Busy tomorrow?"

"I thought you were leaving." Viggo stopped and Orlando turned to look at him.

"I was...."

*

"Oh, cool."

"What?"

"The gardens." Orlando waved to the five foot railing they were walking beside though little could be glimpsed beyond the dense foliage behind it.

"What about it?" Viggo nodded to the area. "All these streets around here have these mysterious communal gardens in the middle of them. They're like little villages."

"I know. Not just anyone can get in. So let's go in." Orlando paused at the entry gate.

"Ah, no." He shook his head. "That's the point; they're private villages. Only the people who live around the edges are allowed in."

"And you abide by rules like that?" Orlando looked at him expectantly.

"Ahm...." He glanced around. "Heck no. Other people do, but not me. I just do what I want." He rattled the gate. It was locked as he had expected. He started to climb. About halfway up, he lost his momentum and dropped back to the walk. "Whoopsidaisies...."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Viggo denied.

"Yes, you did." Orlando grinned.

"No, I didn't."

"You said 'whoopsidaisies.'" The younger man was on the verge of laughter.

"I don't think so." He shook his head. "No one says whoopsidaisies'... do they? I mean unless they're...."

"There's no 'unless.'" Orlando was clearly enjoying this. "No one has said 'whoopsidaisies' for fifty years and even then it was only little girls with blonde ringlets."

"Exactly. Here we go again." He started to climb again but unfortunately slipped at nearly the same spot and dropped to the sidewalk. "Whoopsidaisies."

Orlando looked at him for a very long moment, his eyes twinkling.

"It's a disease I've got," he tried to explain. "It's a clinical thing. I'm taking pills and having injections. It won't last long."

"Step aside." The younger man started to climb.

"Actually be careful, Orlando," Viggo advised. "It's harder than it looks...." He realized the younger man was almost over. "Oh no, it's not; it's easy."

Orlando gracefully jumped down. "Come on, Flops."

Viggo managed to finally clamber over with little dignity, but he made it. He dusted himself off and headed toward where Orlando stood in a grassy clearing.

"Now seriously," he asked, "what in the world in this garden could make that ordeal worthwhile?"

Orlando leaned close and kissed him; a proper kiss. When it ended, he smiled at the older man.

"Nice garden," Viggo murmured.

It was a beautiful garden lit by moonlight. They walked through the soft grass and simply enjoyed the quiet and the beauty. They paused by a simple wooden bench.

"'For June, who loved this garden -- from Joseph who always sat beside her.'" Orlando's voice was soft as he read the inscription. He sat on the edge and brushed his fingers over date inscribed. 'June Wetherby, 1917 - 1992.' "Some people do spend their whole lives together."

Viggo moved close and Orlando took his hand and pulled him down beside him.

*

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks." Dom's nose was buried in the paper when Viggo hurried down the stairs still wet from a shower and wearing only a towel around his waist. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"No, 'fraid not." Dom did not take his attention off what he was reading.

"Bollocks." Viggo checked the coffee table, the end table, the desk by the window. "This happens every time I go to the cinema. Average day, my glasses are everywhere -- everywhere I look, glasses." He checked under the television listings setting atop the VCR. "But the moment I need them they disappear. It's one of life's real cruelties."

"That's compared to...." Dom turned the page of the paper. "...like, earthquakes in the Far East or testicular cancer?"

"Oh shit!" Viggo caught a glimpse of the clock on his desk. "Is that the time? I have to go." He ran up the stairs.

*

"Thanks for your help on the glasses thing," Viggo flung over his shoulder as he sprinted down the stairs headed for the front door.

"You're welcome." Dom never looked up. "Did you find them?"

"Sort of...."

*

The theatre was dark and the audience raptly watched the action on the screen. Orlando pulled a handful of popcorn from the container he held and tossed it at Viggo. He shook his head and giggled.

Viggo, his side vision non-existent, frowned when he felt something pelt him. He looked down to find popcorn on his lap. The prescription goggles he wore gave him a clear view of Orlando grinning in the seat next to him.

*

Orlando sipped his cup of green tea. "So who left who?"

"She left me." Viggo set his chopsticks to the side of his now empty plate.

"Why?" He took another sip of tea.

"She saw through me," Viggo explained. Nearly six years later, it was no longer painful to discuss.

"Uh-oh. That's not good." Orlando paused as the voices at a nearby table intruded.

"No No No! Give me Orlando Bloom any day."

Viggo and Orlando shared a look.

"I didn't like that last film of his. Fast asleep from the moment the lights went down."

Orlando raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

"Don't really care what the films are like. Any film with him in it -- fine by me."

"No. Not my type at all really. I prefer that other one... blonde... rough looking... dirty mouth to match... was in that phonebooth movie...."

'Colin Farrell' Orlando mouthed to Viggo.

"Colin Farrell," the first man supplied.

Viggo and Orlando smiled.

"Drug-induced, I hear... I believe he's actually in rehab as we speak."

"Whatever, he's so clearly up for it...."

Orlando's amusement faded.

"You know... some blokes, they're all 'stay away' but Orlando, he's absolutely gagging for it. Do you know that in over fifty percent of languages the word for actor' is the same as the word for whore'?"

Viggo frowned as he watched the younger man stare at the half-eaten plate of vegetable sushi rolls in front of him.

"And Orlando is your definitive actor. Someone really filthy you can just flip over...."

"Right, that's it." Viggo had had enough. He stood quickly, even as Orlando reached a hand to try to restrain him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you guys but...." He glanced around the table with four men, two who had not joined in the conversation, but were smiling in amusement.

"Can I help you?" Viggo recognized him as the one who had said the nastiest items.

"Well, yes, I wish I hadn't overheard your conversation... but I did and I just think, you know...." He realized he was hardly an imposing figure but he simply could not let it pass. "...the person you're talking about is a real person and I think he probably deserves a little bit more consideration, rather than having jerks like you drooling over him...."

"Oh sod off, mate. What are you, his dad?"

Viggo let Orlando pull him away and they headed for the entrance. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine. I love that you tried... time was I'd have done the same." Orlando patted his arm. They made their way through the maze of tables, but suddenly the younger man paused. "In fact... give me a second." He strode quickly back to the table.

"Hi." He had plastered on a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Oh, my God...." The man with the nasty wit looked flabbergasted when he recognized Orlando.

"I'm sorry about my friend... he's very sensitive."

"No, look, I'm sorry...." The man started to stand up.

"Please, please... let's just leave it there. I'm sure you meant no harm, and I'm sure it was just friendly banter." He gave each man a quick hard look, fake smile still in place. "And I'm sure your dicks are all the size of peanuts, a perfect match for the size of your brains. Enjoy your meal." Orlando turned and took Viggo's hand as they started to walk away. "The tuna's really good," he tossed over his shoulder.

*

"I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that." Orlando shook his head as he and Viggo walked past an arcade.

"No, you were brilliant," Viggo assured him.

"I'm rash and I'm stupid and what am I doing with you?" He turned to look at the older man.

"I don't know I'm afraid."

"I don't know either." Orlando glanced at the entrance to The Ritz. "Here we are.... Do you want to come up?"

"There seem to be lots of reasons why I shouldn't." Viggo shrugged.

"There are lots of reasons." Orlando nodded. "Do you want to come up?"

Viggo looked into the younger man's eyes and nodded.

"Give me five minutes." Orlando hurried inside.

*

Viggo took his time. He walked back and forth for a few minutes outside the hotel. Then he walked slowly through the lobby to the lifts. It was almost precisely five minutes later that he knocked on the suite door.

"Hi." Orlando had a slightly strained look.

"Hi." Viggo leaned and kissed Orlando's cheek lightly. "To be able to do that is such a wonderful thing."

"...You've got to go." Orlando frowned.

"Why?" Viggo wondered what he had done to offend the younger man.

"Because my girlfriend, who I thought was in America...." Orlando pitched his voice low, "is in fact in the next room."

"Your girlfriend?" Viggo was shocked.

"Yes--"

"Who is it?" Viggo recognized the voice. Dom had had a film fest a few months ago and had chosen Kate Bosworth as the spotlight star. Viggo had thought she sounded and looked too much like a Barbie doll brought to life, all plastic and no substance.

Kate walked past headed for the bath. She was wearing little more than panties and an oversized t-shirt. Viggo got more of a view than he needed of her too-thin figure.

"Ummm... room service." Viggo tilted his head.

"How you doing?" She smiled a bit too brightly. "I thought you guys all wore those penguin coats."

"Well, yes... usually... I'd just changed to go home...." He looked down at his dark trousers, pale blue shirt and casual jacket. "But I thought I'd just deal with this final call."

"Oh great." That plastic smile again. "Could you do me a favour and try to get us some really cold water up here?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Still, not sparkling," she specified.

"Absolutely." He nodded. "Ice cold still water."

"Unless it's illegal in the UK to serve liquids below room temperature." She smiled at him again. "I don't want you going to jail just to satisfy my whims...."

"No, I'm sure it'll be fine." He shook his head.

"And maybe you could just adios the dishes and empty the trash," she suggested as she pointed to the dirty plates.

"Right." He grabbed the used plates and grabbed the trash bin.

"Really... don't do that." Orlando frowned as he watched Viggo. "I'm sure this is not his job."

"I'm sorry. Is this a problem?" Kate paused in the bathroom doorway.

"Ah... no." He shook his head. "It's fine."

"What's your name?" She walked over to her purse sitting on the sofa.

"Umm... Harrison."

"Thank you, Harry." She slipped him a 5 note. "Hey." Kate moved closer to Orlando. "Nice surprise or nasty surprise?"

"Nice surprise."

Kate kissed him on the cheek. "Liar." Kate looked at Viggo. "He hates surprises. What are you ordering?"

"I haven't decided."

"Well, don't over-do it." She gave Orlando a light pat on the hip. "I don't want people saying, 'There goes that famous actress with the big, fat boyfriend." She closed the bathroom door.

"I better leave." Viggo looked at Orlando who nodded. "This is a fairly strange reality to be faced with. To be honest, I didn't realize...."

"I'm sorry...." Orlando looked trapped. "I don't know what to say."

"I think goodbye is traditional."

*

Orlando, with very, very short reddish hair, frowned as he fastened the last clasps on his spacesuit. He grabbed his helmet and headed toward the airlock....

The theatre was hardly full but the audience was attentive. Orlando definitely had a screen presence. Viggo sat off to the side. Comfortably slouched, his attention was riveted to Orlando's character.

*

"Come on... open up." Dom encouraged Viggo. "This is me... Dommie." They were in the livingroom with Viggo slouched in the desk chair and Dom on the edge of the sofa. "I'm in contact with some quite important spiritual vibrations. What's wrong?"

"Well, okay. There's this guy...."

"Aha!" Dom grinned. "I'd been getting a definite vibe. Good. Speak on, dear friend."

"He's someone I just can't... someone who... self-evidently can't be mine." It was hard to explain precisely. "And it's as if I've taken love-heroin... and now I can't even have it again. I've opened Pandora's Box and there's trouble inside."

Dom nodded. He seemed thoughtful. "Yeh. Yeh... tricky... tricky..." He grinned wickedly. "I knew a girl at school called Pandora ... never got to see her box though." He roared over his own joke.

"Thanks." Viggo smiled and rolled his eyes. "Yes... very helpful.

*

"You didn't know he had a girlfriend?" Sean showed him the cover of The Evening Standard with a picture of Orlando and Kate at Heathrow Airport.

"No." He looked at his friends. "Did you?" Everyone nodded and got interested in their food.

"Bloody hell, I can't believe it." Viggo rubbed a hand across his face. "My whole life ruined because I don't read 'Hello' magazine." He sighed and picked up a chip from his plate. Elijah's restaurant might not be popular, but the food was still quite good.

"Let's face facts." Sean patted his shoulder. "This was always a no-go situation. Orlando's a god and you know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods."

"Buggered?"

"Every time." Sean nodded sagely. "But don't despair -- I think I have the solution to your problems."

"Really?" Everyone looked at him.

"Her name is Pearl and she works in the contracts department. The hair, I admit, is unfashionable frizzy... but she's as bright as a button and kisses like a nymphomaniac on death row." At the raised eyebrow from Liv, Sean amended, "Apparently."

*

The doorbell rang and Viggo looked uneasily at Sean and Liv.

"Now...." Sean gave him a hard look before going to answer the door. "...try."

"I got completely lost." Pearl's voice carried easily through the house. "It's real difficult, isn't it? Everything's got the word 'Kensington' in it -- Kensington Park Road, Kensington Gardens, Kensington bloody Park Gardens...."

Pearl had bright red hair, its frizzy curls escaping from the rhinestone clip that was meant to hold it in place. The design and color of the clip matched her short black dress and high heels.

"Pearl." Sean did the introductions. "This is Liv my wife."

"Oh, hello!" She smiled brightly as her brows lifted. "You're in a wheelchair."

"That's right." Liv smiled.

"And this is Viggo," Sean continued.

"Hello, Viggo." Pearl smiled widely and winked at him. "Sean has told me everything about you. You've been a very naughty boy, haven't you?"

"I have?" Viggo sounded choked.

"Wine?" Sean offered.

"Oh, yes, please." Pearl leaned closer to Viggo but did not lower her voice. "Come on, Viggie, let's get sloshed."

When Pearl's attention was on Sean and the wine, Viggo looked at Liv. There was panic in his eyes and she nodded her agreement. This was not good....

*

"Ruby?" Sean held the platter between Viggo and his new date. "Some woodcock?" Another evening, another dinner, another date....

"No, thank you." She shook her head, looking faintly disgusted at what had been offered. "I'm a fruitarian."

"Really?" Exene asked from the end of the table.

"I didn't realize that." Sean offered the platter to Exene and then Liv.

"And ahm...." Viggo truly did not want to ask, but.... "What's a fruitarian exactly?"

"We believe that fruits and vegetables have feelings so we think cooking is cruel. We only eat things that have actually fallen from the tree or bush.... that are, in fact, dead already."

"Right. Right. Interesting stuff." Viggo picked up a forkful of glazed baby carrots and stared at it. "So these carrots...."

"Have been murdered, yes." Ruby averted her eyes.

"Murdered?" Viggo bit his lip. "Poor carrots. How beastly."

*

"Delicious coffee." Isabel smiled, her face lit up and she was quite lovely and genuine. Another go at a dinner date....

"Thank you." Sean seated himself. "I'm sorry about the lamb."

"No," she searched for the right thing to say, "I thought it was really, you know, interesting."

"Interesting means inedible." Viggo grinned.

"Really inedible." She smiled sheepishly. "Yes, that's right." Everyone laughed including Sean.

*

"Maybe we'll meet again some time." Isabel smiled, a bit sadly.

"Yes." Viggo nodded. "That would be... great." Isabel kissed him on the cheek and left. Viggo closed he door quietly and returned to the livingroom.

"Well?" Sean and Liv watched him expectantly.

"She's perfect, perfect." Viggo sat on the couch.

"And?" Liv prompted.

"I think you have forgotten...." He gestured toward them. "What an unusual situation you have here. To find someone you actually love, who'll love you... the chances are... always minuscule." Viggo shook his head. "Look at me... not counting the actor... I've only loved two people in my whole life, both total disasters."

"That's not fair," Sean protested.

"No really." Viggo continued. "One of them marries me and then leaves me quicker than you can say Indiana Jones." He looked at Liv. "And the other, who seriously ought to have known better, casually marries my best friend."

"Still loves you though." She gave him a gentle smile.

"In a depressingly asexual way," he agreed.

"I never fancied you much actually...." They all laughed. "I mean I loved you. You were terribly funny, but all that kissing my ears...." She shuddered and then grinned.

"Oh, no," He put his head in his hands for a moment. "This is just getting worse. I am going to find myself, thirty years from now, still on this couch."

"Do you want to stay?" Liv asked.

"Why not?" He smiled tiredly. "All that awaits me at home is a masturbating Welshman."

Sean retrieved a pillow and some blankets from a downstairs closet and tossed them to Viggo. As he unfolded the blankets, Viggo watched as Sean carefully picked Liv up from her chair and carried her upstairs. Their laughter floated down to him as he lay on the couch waiting for sleep to claim him.

*

Viggo spread marmalade on his toast as Sean kissed Liv and headed out to his car. Liv wheeled herself over to the kitchen counter and sorted out the papers she needed for her briefcase. Viggo handed her a packet of papers tied with ribbon. "Guilty." He swallowed another piece of toast. "Definitely guilty."

"Apparently." She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

*

Viggo skipped picking up the morning paper, thinking more about getting home and taking a long hot shower. He missed the rack of tabloids with the headlines screaming 'Orlando Stunner,' 'It's Definitely Him!' and 'Bloom of Pantartica.'

*

Viggo wiped the steam from the mirror as he spread the shaving cream on his face. With practiced ease, he slid the razor along his cheeks and jaw. The doorbell rang. He grabbed a towel and headed downstairs.

He froze when he opened the door to find Orlando on his front step.

"Hi." Orlando pulled the sunglasses off and Viggo could see the dark circles under the younger man's eyes. "May I come in?"

"Come in." He stepped aside and Orlando moved past and pulled the hood of his grey sweatshirt down. Viggo noted that the dark curls were in wild disarray and flattened from the hood.

*

"...They were taken years ago. I know it was.... Well, I was poor and it happens a lot." Orlando took a deep breath trying to control his reactions. "That's not an excuse. But to make things worse, it now appears someone was filming me as well. So what was a stupid photo-shoot now looks like a porno film. And well... the pictures have been sold and they're everywhere."

Viggo frowned, concerned over the younger man's agitation.

"I don't know where to go. The hotel is surrounded."

"This is the place."

"Thank you." He gave Viggo a grateful smile. "I'm just in London for two days.... But, with the papers it's the worse place to be." He sat down suddenly and rubbed his face. "They're such horrible pictures. They're so grainy... they make me look like...." He shrugged.

"Don't think about it. We'll sort it out." Viggo tried to sound reassuring. "Now what would you like... tea ... bath...?"

Orlando blinked at him then sighed. "Actually a bath would be great."

*

"Christ alive...." Dom was glued to the paper he was reading. He let the door slam behind him as he walked up the stairs. "Brilliant... fantastic .... magnificent...." The tabloid cover showed a grainy picture of Orlando with accompanying headline.

Attention still glued to the paper, he walked into the bathroom and headed directly to the loo. He slid his zipper down.

"You must be Dom."

Dom turned his head to look over his shoulder. Orlando smiled as he reclined up to his neck in bubbles in the tub. Dom gulped and sidled out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He stood stock still for a long moment. Then he opened the door again and peeked in.

Orlando smiled at him from the bubbles. "Hi."

"Just checking." Dom closed the door and looked up to heaven. "Thank you, God."

*

"I'm really sorry about last time." Orlando nibbled on a piece of toast. "She just flew in. I had no idea... in fact I had no idea if she'd ever fly in again."

"No, that's fine." Viggo waved off the apology. "It's not often one has the opportunity to adios the plates of a major Hollywood star. It was a thrill for me." Orlando shook his head and smiled. "How is she?"

"I don't know." The younger man shrugged. "It got to the point where I couldn't remember any of the reasons I loved her. And you... and love?"

"Well, there's a question.... without an interesting answer." The toaster popped and Viggo grabbed the warm bread.

"I have thought about you," Orlando began.

"Oh, no no... no." He started to butter the toast.

"Just anytime I've tried to keep things normal with anyone normal... it's been a disaster."

"I appreciate that absolutely." He nodded then pointed the butter knife at the script Orlando had set on the table. "Is that the film you're doing?"

"Yes." He looked at the thick volume. "Starts in L.A. on Tuesday."

"Would you like me to take you through your lines?" Viggo offered.

"Would you?" The younger man brightened. "It's all talk, talk, talk."

"Hand it over. Basic plot?" Viggo accepted the script.

"I'm a difficult but brilliant junior officer who in about twenty minutes will save the world from nuclear disaster," Orlando explained.

"Well done, you."

*

The sun peeked out from the clouds as they settled on the rooftop terrace.

"Message from command. Would you like them to send in the HKs?" Viggo had his glasses on, the script on the table in front of him and large glass of tea at his elbow.

"No, turn over four TRS's and tell them we need radar feedback before the KFT's return at nineteen hundred." Orlando paced as he delivered his lines. "Then inform the Pentagon that we'll be needing black star cover from ten hundred through twelve fifteen." He paused and looked at Viggo. "And don't you dare say one word about how many mistakes I made in that speech or I'll pelt you with olives."

"Very well, Captain. I'll pass that on straightaway." Viggo just looked up at Orlando.

"Thank you." Orlando shook his head and leaned against the railing. "How many mistakes did I make?"

"Eleven."

"Damn." A deep breath and he went back into character. "And Wainwright...."

"Cartwright."

"Cartwright, Wainwright, whatever your name is...." Orlando waved his hand dismissing the problem. "I promised little Jimmy I'd be home for his birthday... could you get a message through that I may be a little late."

"Certainly. And little Johnny?"

"My son's name is Johnny?" Orlando looked at Viggo.

Viggo nodded. "Yup."

"Well, get a message through to him too."

"Brilliant." Viggo grinned. "Word perfect I'd say."

"What do you think?" Orlando settled in the other chair. "Gripping." He smiled at the younger man. "It's not Jane Austen, it's not Henry James, but it's gripping."

"You think I should do Henry James instead?"

"I'm sure you'd be great in Henry James." Viggo nodded. "But, you know... this writer...." He glanced at the cover page. "...writers are pretty damn good too."

"Yes." Orlando chuckled. "I mean... you never get anyone in 'Wings of a Dove' having the nerve to say 'inform the Pentagon that we need black star cover.'"

"And I think the book is the poorer for it." Viggo chuckled.

*

"I can't believe you have that picture on your wall." Orlando gestured to the poster on the kitchen wall.

"You like Chagall?" Viggo could not help the surprise in his voice.

"I do." He studied the poster for a long moment. "It feels like how being in love should be; floating through a dark blue sky."

"With a goat playing a violin."

"Well, yes." Orlando deadpanned. "Happiness wouldn't be happiness without a violin-playing goat."

Dom hurried in with three pizza boxes. "Voila." He set the top one in front of Orlando. "Carnival Calypso for the King of Notting Hill." He opened the box. "Pepperoni, pineapple and a little more pepperoni."

"Fantastic."

"I didn't mention that Orlando's a vegetarian, did I?" Viggo peeked into the other two boxes, finding a pepperoni, peppers and sausage one, his favorite, and the last being an everything pizza with ham, groundbeef, sausage, pepperoni, strips of chicken deluged in cheese, slices of vegetables and fruit, Dom's favorite.

"I have some parsnip stew from last week," Dom offered. "If I just peel the skin off, it'll be perfect...." *

Viggo was immersed in the evening paper. Orlando had read the treatment for a new film he had been offered then moved onto a novel he had spotted on the shelves. He looked up and studied the older man, relaxed in a chair with his bare feet propped on an ottoman.

"You've got big feet."

"Yes." Viggo looked up. "Always have had."

"You know what they say about men with big feet?"

"No." Viggo raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Big feet...." Orlando smiled. "...large shoes."

Viggo laughed.

*

"The thing that's so irritating is that now I'm so totally fierce when it comes to nudity clauses." Orlando savored a spoonful of triple lemon frozen custard.

"You actually have clauses in your contact about nudity?" Viggo asked as he took a spoonful of chocolate raspberry truffle ice cream.

"Definitely." Orlando waved his spoon as he spoke. "'You may show the dent at the top of the artist's buttocks -- but neither cheek. In the event of a stunt person being used, the artist must have full consultation.'"

"You have a stunt bottom?" Viggo paused with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

"I *could* have a stunt bottom, yes." Orlando nodded.

"Would you be tempted to go for a slightly better bottom than your own?" Viggo swallowed the frozen treat.

"Definitely. This is important stuff." Orlando swirled his spoon around the bottom of the pint.

"It's one hell of a job. What do you put on your passport?" Viggo chuckled. "Profession -- Mel Gibson's bottom."

"Actually, Mel does his own ass work." Orlando ate the last spoonful of the lemon custard. "Why wouldn't he? It's delicious."

"The custard or Mel Gibson's bottom?" Viggo asked.

"Both." They laughed.

"But which would you be more willing to lick?" Viggo teased.

Orlando's eye twinkled as he pointed to the pint in his hand. "Well, this is tart...."

*

"Today has been a good day." Orlando smiled at Viggo as they stopped at the top of the stairs. "Which under the circumstances is... unexpected."

"Well, thank you." Viggo smiled and glanced around a bit uncomfortable. "Anyway, time for bed. Or... sofa-bed." He made a vague gesture down the stairs.

"Right." After a pause, Orlando leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips before stepping into the bedroom and closing the door.

*

Viggo lay back on the sofa under the duvet and studied the ceiling. Shadows flickered as a car drove past with its headlights weaving between the blinds. He noticed a cobweb in the corner near the silent stairwell.

With a sigh, he got off the sofa but then sat on the arm. He glanced at the dark stairs. Something creaked overhead and he held his breath. It was just the house settling. He climbed back under the covers and punched the pillow a couple of times before settling.

He heard another creak and was about to dismiss it when he heard something lower on the stairs. "Oh, my God," he whispered. A little louder he called out, "Hello?"

"Hello." Dom rounded the corner. "I wonder if I could have a little word."

Viggo groaned at the sight of his half-naked flatmate. "Dom."

"I don't want to interfere, or anything...." Dom rubbed his spikey hair. "But he's split up from his girlfriend, that's right isn't it?"

"Maybe."

"And he's in your house," the Welshman pointed out.

"Yes."

"And you get on very well."

"Yes." Viggo frowned, wondering where the hell this was going.

"Well, isn't this perhaps a good opportunity to...." Dom motioned with his hip. "Slip him one?"

"Dom!" Viggo sat up. "For God's sake, he's in trouble. Get a grip."

"Right, right. You think it's the wrong moment. Fair enough." He started to go then turned back. "Do you mind if I have a go?"

"Dom!" Viggo was beyond exasperated.

"No, you're right." Dom made a placating gesture.

"'Sides," Viggo comment, "I thought you were all for the ladies."

"Yeah, you're right." Dom shrugged. "But with a bloke like that, who could resist."

Viggo shook his head. "I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Okay., okay. Might be too late, but okay." He went up the stairs.

The house had gone quiet again, even the traffic outside had died away. Viggo closed his eyes hoping that he might finally relax enough to sleep. The stairs creaked once more.

"Oh please sod off." He was going to kill Dom.

"Okay."

"No!" Viggo sat straight up when he heard Orlando's voice. "No. Wait. I... thought you were someone else. I thought you were Dom. I'm delighted you're not."

Viggo stood up and moved closer to Orlando. The younger man looked smaller, vulnerable wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was too large. But the draw was irresistible as they moved closer.

They kissed as their hands slowly explored. Viggo wondered at the taste of the younger man as their tongues danced. The taste of mint from the toothpaste and something that was uniquely Orlando flooded his senses. The kissed ended only when they gasped for air. Orlando's eyes were dilated; the dark depths looked deep enough to drown in.

He smiled and took Orlando's hand leading him up the stairs to the master bedroom. Once there, the door closed and locked, Viggo slowly undressed the younger man. He kissed Orlando tenderly on the lips and then did the same as more and more of the younger man was revealed to him. He lightly nipped and licked a nipple, trailed his tongue down the smooth chest and abdomen. Viggo smiled when Orlando whimpered as he used his tongue to trace the sun tattoo that was located near Orlando's navel.

The younger man was busy as well. He managed to remove Viggo's t-shirt and slide the older man's shorts down. Viggo gasped when a knowledgeable hand grasped his hard cock and started to stroke it ever so slowly at the start. He closed his eyes for a moment, regaining control before he moved down again to the tattoo and lower. Orlando groaned loudly when Viggo swirled his tongue over the head of his cock and then deep throated him.

Viggo licked his lips when he finally pulled away. Orlando's ejaculate was a treat to be savored, but the need they felt was not going to be denied for long. One final kiss to the weeping tip and he moved up the lithe body and kissed Orlando once more.

The younger man's hands were all over touching, teasing, stroking him. They moaned in unison when their cocks slid against each other. Quickly, they found the right motion and rhythm to get the most friction and stimulation. Viggo could hardly believe he was making love to Orlando Bloom. But here he was in his arms, in his bed, in his flat in Notting Hill.

He did not want it to end. But nothing lasts forever it seemed. All too soon their movement became more frenzied, frantic and then he felt himself climaxing even as he felt Orlando's cum splashing their bellies.

*

Sleep had claimed the exhausted younger man and Viggo lay awake staring at the bedroom ceiling. He was almost afraid to go to sleep, that he would wake to find this had all been a part of a bizarrely vivid dream. There was movement and a moment later, he felt Orlando snuggle close in his sleep. Viggo smiled and finally let himself relax.

*

"It still strikes me as, well, surreal, that I'm allowed to see you naked." Viggo smiled at Orlando. They were laying head to toe with Orlando's head at the footboard and Viggo's head at the headboard.

"You and every person in this country," Orlando smiled back.

"Oh, God, yes." Viggo cringed. "I'm sorry."

"What is it about people and nudity?" Orlando shook his head. "Particularly penises. How can they be so interested in them?"

"Well...." Viggo did not know what to say.

"No seriously. I mean, it's just a penis, a cock. Every second person in the world has one...."

"More than that actually when you think about it. I've known more than a few women with it seemed bigger dicks than many men."

"But... they're odd-looking." Orlando shrugged. "They're for pissing and procreating. Your dad has one. You must have seen loads of them.... What's the fuss about?"

Viggo paused and appeared to seriously consider the question. "Actually, I can't think really." He grinned and shifted on the bed. "Let me just have a quick look...." He peeked under the covers at Orlando's groin. "No, beats me."

Orlando laughed, but then became serious once again. "Rita Hayworth used to say 'they go to bed with Gilda and they wake up with me.' Do you feel that?"

"Who was Gilda?" Viggo asked.

"Her most famous role," Orlando explained. "Men went to bed with the dream and they didn't like it when they woke up with the reality." He looked at Viggo. "Do you feel that way with me?"

"You're sexier, more beautiful this morning than you have ever been."

"Oh." Orlando stared at him for a long moment then jumped out of bed. He grabbed the shorts and tugged them on. "I'll be back." He pulled on a long sleeve shirt, but did not button it.

Viggo straightened the covers, tucked the ends in and fluffed the pillows. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers before climbing back into the bed. Orlando returned carrying a tray with toast and tea.

"Breakfast in bed. Or lunch, or brunch." The younger man smiled as he sat down and set the tray on the bed between them. "Can I stay a bit longer?"

"Stay forever." Viggo smiled and kissed Orlando on the nose.

"Damn, I forgot the jam." The younger man stood up just as the doorbell rang. "You get the door, I'll get the jam."

*

Viggo tugged on a t-shirt and hurried down the stairs after Orlando. The younger man headed into the kitchen and he went to the front door. The bell rang just before he could open it. "All right. All right." He opened the door without checking the peephole and was blinded by the explosion of flashes and noises as questions were thrown at him from what seemed thousands of voices as the press filled nearly the entire street.

"Jesus Christ!" He stepped back in and slammed the door shut.

"What?" Orlando asked from the kitchen.

"Don't ask," Viggo advised.

"You're up to something...." Orlando smiled thinking Viggo had to be up to something. He opened the door only to be greeted by the shouting reporters and explosion of flashes. He slammed the door. "Oh, my God. And they got a photo of you dressed like that?"

Viggo looked down at his boxers and t-shirt. "Undressed like this, yes."

"Jesus."

*

"Morning," Dom grinned as he came down the stairs just in his briefs, "darling ones." He gave Viggo a thumbs up even as Orlando turned away to speak into the phone.

"It's Orlando." He leaned his forehead against the wall. "The press is here.... No, there are hundreds of them. My brilliant plan was not so brilliant after all.... Yeah, I know, I know. Just get me out then." He hung up. "Damnit."

Viggo followed Orlando up the stairs. "I wouldn't go outside," he called back to Dom.

"Why not?" Dom called after him.

"Just take my word for it."

The moment Viggo disappeared from view, Dom headed for the front door. He opened the door and grinned madly. He tried to pose athletically for the press as cameras clicked away.

"How did I look?" Dom closed the door and inspected himself in the hall mirror. "Not bad. No bad at all. Well-chosen briefs, I'd say. Chicks love grey. Mmmmm. Nice firm buttocks." He flexed his cheeks under the dingy grey underwear.

*

Viggo paused briefly before entering the master bedroom. "How are you doing?" Orlando was dressed again in the clothes and sweatshirt he had been wearing when he arrived.

"How do you think I'm doing?" he snapped.

"I don't know what happened." Viggo was at a loss.

"I do." He stuffed the script and the screen treatment into his backpack. "Your furry friend thought he'd make a buck or two telling the papers where I was."

"That's not true."

"Really?" Orlando gave him an incredulous look. "The entire British press just woke up this morning and thought 'Hey, I know where Orlando Bloom is. He's in that house with the blue door in Notting Hill.' And then you go out in your goddamn underwear."

"I went out in my goddamn underwear too," Dom added from the doorway.

"Get out, Dom," Viggo ordered and turned back to Orlando. "I'm so sorry."

"This is such a mess. I come to you to protect myself against more crappy gossip and now I'm landed in it all over again." He tossed his hairbrush and shorts into the backpack. "For God's sake, I've got a girlfriend."

"You do?" Viggo was brought up short by that.

"As far as they're concerned I do," Orlando told him. "And now tomorrow there'll be pictures of you in every newspaper from here to Timbuktu."

"I know. I know." Viggo tried to restore a sense of sanity to the moment. "But... just... let's stay calm...."

"You can stay calm!" Orlando yelled. "It's the perfect situation for you. Minimum input, maximum publicity. Everyone you ever bump into will know. 'Well done you, you slept with that actor. We've seen the pictures.'"

"That's spectacularly unfair," Viggo protested.

"Who knows, it may even help business." He grabbed his dark glasses. "Buy a boring book about Egypt from the guy who screwed Orlando Bloom." The younger man hurried down the stairs.

"Now stop. Stop." Viggo tried to get ahead to slow Orlando down. "I beg you. Calm down. Have a cup of tea--"

"I don't want a bloody goddamned cup of tea! I want to go home."

The doorbell rang. "Dom, check who that is! And for God's sake put some clothes on."

"Looks like a chauffeur to me!" Dom called back as he leaned out a front window still wearing only his briefs. "And remember, Dom owes you an expensive dinner." Orlando paused in the entranceway. "Or holiday, depending if he's got the brains to get the going rate on betrayal."

"That's not true. And wait a minute...." He put a hand on Orlando's shoulder. "This is crazy behavior. Can't we just laugh about this? Seriously, in the huge sweep of things, this stuff doesn't matter."

"What he's going to say next is...." Dom commented from the kitchen doorway. "...there are people starving in the Sudan."

"Well, there are. And we don't need to go anywhere near that far." Viggo tried to sound reasonable. "My best friend slipped. She slipped downstairs, cracked her back and she's in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. All I'm asking for is a normal amount of perspective."

"You're right, of course, you're right." Orlando sighed. "It's just that I've dealt with this garbage for ten years now; you've had it for ten minutes. Our perspectives are different."

"I mean," Viggo tried to reason, "today's newspapers will be lining tomorrow's waste paper bins."

"Excuse me?" Orlando's voice rose.

"Well, you know... it's just one day. Today's papers will all have been thrown away tomorrow."

"You really don't get it." The younger man closed his eyes trying to get a grip. "This story gets filed. Every time anyone writes anything about me... they'll dig up these photos. Newspapers last *forever*. I'll regret this forever."

The words hung between them.

"Right. Fine." Viggo nodded, trying to sound calm. "I will do the opposite, if it's all right by you. And always be glad you came. But you're right... you probably better go."

The doorbell rang and Orlando opened the door. Instantly, cameras flashed, the noise invaded and he let himself be surrounded by his people. Ngila gave Viggo an odd look as the chauffeur and two bodyguards forced a path through the mad press of bodies.

The door slammed shut.

*

"Was it you?" Viggo asked as he sat opposite his flatmate in the kitchen.

"I suppose I might have told one or two people down the pub." Dom shrugged and looked faintly embarrassed.

"Right." Viggo put his head in his hands.

*

But life continued onward. Exene got a new boyfriend and was exuberantly happy. Elijah looked out at the nearly empty diningroom of his restaurant and sighed. Sean and Liv continued being happy in spite of everything.

By Autumn, Sean and Liv had decided to adopt and were heavily researching the options available. Elijah had set a date when he would make the final decision on closing his dream restaurant. Billy hung on to his job even as the brokerage firm he worked for merged with a larger company. Exene's boyfriend got drunk one evening and hit her. She threw his clothes and other belongings out the window the next morning and changed the locks on her flat.

*

Viggo sorted through a book shipment and looked up in surprise when the shop door banged open. It had been raining all morning and it was still grey out when Exene rushed in. Dom followed her in, looking a bit damp from the Spring rains.

"Have we got something for you." The smile on her face showed her joy. "Something which will make you love me so much you'll want to hug me every single day for the rest of my life."

"Blimey. What's that?" Viggo asked.

"The phone numbers for Orlando Bloom's agent in London and his agent in New York." She handed him a sheet of paper. "You can ring him. You think about him all the time. Now you can ring him!"

"Well, thanks." He smiled, trying to be grateful. "That's great."

"It is great, isn't it? See you tonight." She looked over Viggo's shoulder and waved. "Hey, Barrie, sexy cardy." Exene rushed out with Dom following once again. Viggo knew without looking Barrie would be blushing.

He looked at the piece of paper, folded it and then placed it gently in the garbage bin.

*

Dusk settled outside and the streetlamps blinked on. Liv tapped her spoon against a wine bottle to get everyone's attention. Once again they were gathered in Elijah's restaurant. "I have a little speech to make. I won't stand up because I can't... be bothered." She giggled at her own joke. "Exactly a year ago today, this man here started the finest restaurant in London."

"Thank you very much." Elijah beamed.

"Unfortunately," she continued, "no one ever came to eat here."

Elijah hiccupped.

"And so we must face the fact that after next week we have to find somewhere else to eat."

Elijah sniffled as Liv hugged him. "I just want to say to Elijah." She hugged him again. "Don't take it personally. The more I think about things, the more I see no rhyme or reason in life. No one knows why some things work out, and some things don't. Why some of us get lucky... and some of us...."

"...get fired," Billy piped up.

"No!"

"Yes, they're shifting the whole outfit more toward the trading side...." He shrugged. "And of course... I was total crap."

"So we go down together! A toast to Billy!" Elijah raised his glass and the others followed. "The worst stockbroker in the whole world!" Glassed clinked together and wine was drunk.

"Since it's an evening of announcements...." Exene stood up. "I've also got one. Umm... I've decided to get engaged." Everyone looked bewildered. "I've found myself a nice, slightly odd looking bloke who I know is going to make me happy for the rest of my life." She grinned madly.

"Wait a minute." Viggo frowned. "I'm your brother and I don't know anything about this."

"Is it someone we know?" Sean asked.

"Yes." She nodded. "I will keep you informed." Exene sat down, leaned toward Dom and whispered, "By the way... it's you."

"Me?" He was dumbfounded.

"Yes." She smiled brightly to him. "What do you think?"

"Well, yes. Groovy." He grinned.

"Any more announcements?" Sean inquired.

"Yes," Viggo spoke up. "I feel I must apologize to everyone for my behavior for the last six months. I have, as you know, been slightly down in the mouth."

"There's an understatement." Sean nudged Viggo's arm. "There are dead people on better form."

"But I wish to make it clear I've turned a corner and henceforward intend to be impressively happy." He smiled broadly.

*

A wonderful meal was consumed with a huge chocolate cake demolished and many bottles of wine emptied. Elijah played 'Blue Moon' on the piano as he and Billy tried to remember the words. Liv and Exene sat at one table staring at the empty bottles in front of them.

"I'm really horribly drunk." Liv shook her head trying to clear it.

"So," Sean looked to his friend, "you've laid the ghost."

"I believe I have." Viggo emptied his glass.

"Don't give a damn about the famous bloke," Sean offered.

"No." Viggo shook his head and checked to see if the bottle was empty as well. "Don't think I do."

"Which means you won't be distracted by the fact that he's back in London, grasping his Oscar, and can be found filming most days on Hampstead Heath." Sean slid a copy of the Evening Standard' in front of Viggo. Orlando was on the cover in period costume.

"Oh, God no." Viggo covered his eyes.

"So not over him, in fact...."

*

Viggo walked steadily up the hill. As he crested the top, he could see the madness of a movie location shoot; extras in costume lounged in front of the radiant white of Kenwood House while crew members in shorts and t-shirts hurried with equipment and wires. Several trailers lining the drive contrasted sharply with the elegant earlier era atmosphere of the estate.

"Can I help you?" A uniformed security officer stepped in front of Viggo as he approached the gates.

"Yes." He nodded. "I was looking for Orlando Bloom...."

"Does he know you're coming?" The man glanced at a clipboard.

"No, no." Viggo shook his head. "He doesn't."

"I'm afraid I can't really let you through then, sir."

"Oh right." Viggo ran his hand through his perpetually messy hair. "I mean, I am a friend.... I'm not a lunatic...." He shrugged. "...but no, you basically...."

"...can't let you through."

A trailer door opened and Viggo saw Orlando exit. He was dressed in a tasteful turn of the century gentleman's suit with matching hat, gloves and cane. Even from a distance Viggo could tell the younger man looked extraordinary beautiful with his hair pulled back into a tasteful tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck.

He was instantly surrounded. A make-up person, a costumer, Ngila, security men and several other crew people moved around him. Viggo had not a clue on how to catch Orlando's attention. But suddenly the young man turned his head and paused. He changed directions, weaving through the chaos that separated them.

"This is certainly... ah...." Orlando gave him a tentative smile.

"I only found out you were here yesterday," Viggo explained.

"I was going to ring... but...." The younger man shrugged. "I didn't think you'd want to...."

"Orlando." A harried crew person tried to catch his attention.

"It's not going very well." He nodded toward the woman approaching with a headset and clipboard. "...and it's our last day."

"Absolutely, you're clearly very busy," Viggo did not want to intrude.

"But... wait... there are things to say." The younger man touched his hand.

"Okay."

"Drink tea... there's lots of tea." Orlando was pulled away.

"Come and have a look." Ngila led Viggo toward the set. "Are you a fan of Henry James?"

"This is Henry James film?" Viggo was surprised.

They stopped next to a man with stacks of equipment surrounding him. "This is Harry." Ngila nodded to the man. "He'll give you a pair of headphones so you can hear the dialogue." She smiled and headed off.

"Here we go." Harry handed Viggo a set of wireless headphones. "The volume control is on the side."

"That's great." Viggo spotted an empty chair. As he settled, he took in the surroundings.

Orlando stood a hundred yards away with his costar as they waited for the shot to be set up.

Viggo adjusted the volume on the headphones.

"We are living in cloudcockooland," the young woman complained, adjusting her gloves. "We'll never get this done today."

"We have to." Orlando squinted down at the camera set-up. "I've got to be in New York on Thursday."

"Oh, stop showing off." The woman looked at an actress who was bent over talking to two children in period costume. "God, that's an enormous arse."

"I'm not listening, Andie." Orlando retrieved a bottle of water from behind the fence they stood next to.

"No, but seriously," Andie continued, "It's not fair. So many tragic young teenagers with anorexia and that girl has an arse she could perfectly well share round with at least ten other women. And still be big-bottomed."

"I said I'm not listening." Orlando took a long drink and returned the bottle to its hiding place. "And I think, looking at something that firm, you and your droopy little excuse for an arse would be well-advised to keep quiet."

Viggo chuckled to himself. That was his Orlando.

"So I ask you when you're going to tell everyone, and you say...?" Orlando prompted.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough."

"And then I... right." Orlando closed his eyes for a moment, trying to capture the character.

"Who was that chap you were talking to on the way up?" Andie asked.

"Oh," he seemed startled. "No one... no one. Just some... guy from the past. I don't know what he's doing here. Bit of an awkward situation."

"Of course." Viggo took the headphones off and handed them to Harry. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Viggo walked away unnoticed...

*

"What's going on?"

Viggo looked up at Dom as he dumped the pile of cassettes into a trash bag. "I'm going to throw out these old videos."

"No. You can't bin these. They're classics. I'm not allowing this." Dom tried to grab the movies from the bag. He could not believe that Viggo was actually going to throw away the Rings trilogy.

"Right." Viggo gave him a hard look. "Let's talk about rent...."

"Let me help." Dom all but leapt at the chance to help Viggo. "We don't want all this shite cluttering up our lives."

*

Viggo looked up just in time to see Barrie pop his head in the doorway.

"I hate to disturb you when you're cooking the books, but there's a delivery."

"Barrie, can't you just deal with this yourself?" Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose, not in the mood to be bothered.

"But it's not for the shop. It's for you," Barrie smiled.

"Okay." Viggo sighed as he stood up. "Tell me, would I have to pay a wet rag as much as I pay you?" He followed Barrie.

Viggo froze when he saw Orlando standing in the shop. Dressed in a pale yellow t-shirt, faded jeans and flip-flops, Viggo could not help but once again realize how gorgeous the younger man was.

"Hi." Orlando smiled tentatively.

"Hello."

"You disappeared." Orlando bit his lip.

"Yes." Viggo nodded. "I'm sorry." He shrugged. "I had to leave.... I didn't want to disturb you."

"Well... how have you been?"

"Fine. Everything much the same." Viggo smiled trying to lighten the mood. "Dom is still as inexcusable as ever; Sean still can't cook; Liv is still brilliant and gorgeous and Exene is still at that record shop. Whereas you... I've watched in wonder. Awards, glory...."

"Oh no." Orlando shook his head. "It's all nonsense, believe me. I had no idea how much nonsense it all was... but nonsense it all is.... Well, yesterday was our last day filming and so I'm just off." Viggo realized the younger man was nervous and rambling.

"But I brought you this from home and...." Orlando motioned to a big flat wrapped parcel leaning against a bookshelf. "I thought I'd give it to you."

"Thank you. Shall I...."

"No, don't open it yet." The actor shook his head. "I'll be embarrassed."

"Okay... well, thank you. I don't know what it's for. But thank you anyway."

"I actually had it in my apartment in New York and just thought you'd...." Orlando's words trailed off for a moment. "But, when it came to it, I didn't know how to call you.... Having behaved so... badly.... Twice. So it's been just sitting in the hotel. But then... you came, so I figured.... The thing is... the thing is...."

"What's the thing?" Viggo asked.

The door chime pinged and the oblivious customer entered the store. Viggo recognized him immediately. "Don't even think about it. Go away immediately."

"Right." The man was completely taken aback. "Sorry." He left quickly.

"You were saying...." Viggo returned his attention to Orlando.

"Yes. The thing is... I have to go away today but I wondered, if I didn't, whether you might let me see you a bit... or a lot maybe... see if you could... like me again." The dark eyes looked hopefully at him.

"But yesterday... that actress asked you who I was... and you just dismissed me out of hand." At the confused look on the younger man's face, he explained, "I heard -- you had a microphone... I had headphones."

"You expect me to tell the truth about my life to the most indiscreet woman in England?" The dark eyebrows rose at the thought of sharing anything personal with his costar.

"Excuse me," Barrie whispered to Viggo. "It's your mother on the phone."

"Can you tell her I'll ring her back?" Viggo did not even look back at the man.

"I actually tried that tack." Barry swallowed. "But she said you said that before and it's been twenty-four hours, and her foot that was purple is now a sort of blackish color...."

"Okay." Viggo sighed. "Perfect timing as ever." He gave Orlando a half-smile. "Hold the fort for a second will you, Barrie?"

Barrie fidgeted for a moment before working up his courage to speak. "Can I just say, I thought 'Titanic' was a wonderful film."

"Is that right?" Orlando gave him an odd look.

"Yes... I've always wondered what Kate Winslet is like in real life."

"I can't say I know Kate all that well."

"Oh, dear. She wasn't friendly during the filming?" Barry asked.

"Well, no," Orlando explained, "I'm sure she was friendly -- to Leonardo DiCaprio -- who acted with her in 'Titanic.'"

"Oh, right." Barry blushed. "Right. Sorry. Always been a bit of an ass."

Viggo returned, frowning slightly.

"Anyway... it's lovely to meet you. I'm a great fan of yours." Barrie backed out of the room. "And Leonardo's... apparently."

"Sorry about that," Viggo apologized.

"That's fine. There's always a pause when the jury goes out to consider its verdict." The younger man stood quite still as he waited.

"Orlando. Look -- I'm a fairly level-headed guy. Not often in and out of love. But...." He paused trying to gather his thoughts. "...Can I just say 'no' to your kind request and leave it at that?"

"Yes, that's fine." The light in the beautiful brown eyes dimmed. "Of course. I... you know... of course... I'll just... be getting along then... nice to see you."

"The truth is...." Orlando waited. "...with you, I'm in real danger. It took like a perfect situation, apart from that foul temper of yours -- but my relatively inexperienced heart would, I fear, not recover if I was once again ... cast aside, which I would absolutely expect to be. There are too many pictures of you everywhere, too many films. You'd go and I'd be... well, buggered, basically."

"I see." Orlando paused. "That really is a real 'no,' isn't it?"

"I live in Notting Hill." He waved at the area outside the shop windows. "You live in Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world knows who you are. My mother has trouble remembering my name."

"Okay. Fine, fine." Orlando nodded. "Good decision." He started to turn but stopped. "The fame thing isn't really real, you know. Don't forget -- I'm also just a boy. Standing in front of a guy. Asking him to love him." He stepped close to Viggo and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye."

Viggo did not say anything as the younger man swiftly left the shop.

*

"What do you think?" Viggo looked at his friends. "Good move?"

"Good move." Exene nodded. "When all is said and done, he's nothing special. I saw him taking his pants off and I definitely was not impressed." She sipped her tea. All around Elijah's restaurant was in the midst of being deconstructed; half-filled boxes, stacked chairs surrounded them.

"Good decision," Liv added. "All actors are mad as snakes." She rocked her chair back and forth.

"Elijah," Viggo looked to his friend, "what do you think?"

"Never met him, never want to."

"Brilliant." Viggo nodded. "Sean?"

"Absolutely. Never trust a vegetarian." Sean settled his chair closer to Liv's.

"Great. Excellent. Thanks."

"I was called." Dom quickly closed the door behind him. "And I came. What's up? "

"Viggo has just turned down Orlando Bloom," Exene told him.

"You daft prick!" Dom shook his head in disgust.

"No, actually," Exene tried to explain, "it's a good thing. Quite sensible.... Really...."

"That painting isn't the original, is it?" Liv studied the half-unwrapped painting leaning against the wall near Viggo. It was the Chagall of the bride and groom with the violin-playing-goat floating in space.

"Yes." He glanced at the painting. "I think that one may be."

"But he said he wanted to go out with you?" Billy murmured.

"Yes," Viggo nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. "...sort of...."

"That's nice."

"What?" Viggo stared at Billy.

"Well, you know, anybody saying they want to go out with you is... pretty great... isn't it?"

"It was sort of sweet actually," Viggo admitted. "I mean, I know he's an actor and all that, so he can deliver a line... but he said that he might be as famous as can be... but also... that he was just a boy, standing in front of a guy, asking him to love him...." Viggo closed his eyes and bowed his head as the atmosphere in the room changed. "Oh sod a dog. I've made the wrong decision, haven't I?" He looked up at his friends.

"Yeah," Dom agreed, still looking disgustedly at him.

"Sean, how fast is your car?" Viggo asked his best friend.

*

Sean brought his car to a screeching halt outside the restaurant.

"If anyone gets in our way... we have small nuclear devices," Sean grinned as everyone piled in.

"And we intend to use them!" Billy said from the shotgun seat.

"Where's Liv?" Sean frowned as he looked into the back of the car.

"She's not coming," Exene pointed to Liv in her chair next to Elijah on the sidewalk.

"Sod that," Sean huffed. "Billy... in the back!" He climbed out of the car and grabbed Liv out of the chair. "Come on, babe." He carefully lowered her into the front passenger seat. Sean shoved the folded chair into the boot with Dom. Billy squeezed in next to Viggo, who was tightly squeezed into the middle.

*

"Where are you going?" Liv asked as the car shot up Crescent.

"Down Kensington Church Street, then Knightsbridge," Sean shifted gears, "then Hyde Park Corner."

"Crazy." Liv shook her head. "Go along Bayswater...."

"That's right," Exene spoke up from the backseat. "Then Park Lane."

"Or you could go right down to Cromwell Road, and left," Billy suggested.

"No!" Viggo interrupted.

"Stop right there!" Sean slammed on the brakes. "I will decide the route, all right?"

After a moment of quiet, they all spoke, "All right."

"James Bond never has to put up with this sort of shit." Sean slammed the car into first gear and squealed the tires as they sped off.

*

Somehow they still managed to be on the wrong end of a one-way street from their destination. "Hold on, everyone!" Sean gave a quick look around and drove the wrong way on the street. They screeched to a halt directly in front of The Ritz.

Viggo sprinted into the lobby with Billy on his heels. "Bloody hell, this is fun."

"Is Miss Scott staying here?" Viggo asked.

The desk clerk, a well-dressed older gentleman who seemed quite oblivious to the frantic air of the two men in front of him shook his head. "No, sir."

"How about Mr. Flintstone?"

"No, sir."

"Or Bambi... or...." Viggo was fast running out of possibilities. "I don't know... Beavis or Butt-head?"

"No, sir." The clerk shook his head.

"Right, right." Viggo was defeated. "Fair enough. Thanks." He started toward the entrance.

"There was a Mr. Pocahontas in room 126," the clerk informed him. "But he checked out an hour ago. I believe he's holding a press conference at The Savoy before flying to America."

"Thank you!" Viggo grinned. He leaned over the counter and kissed the man on the cheek.

"We have lift off!!" Billy whooped quietly and also kissed the man on the other cheek. Both raced out to the car as a Japanese businessman leaned in and kissed the clerk.

"You have messages for a Mister Tahcyama?"

*

Traffic was a nightmare as Sean sped through the streets trying to get them to the Savoy. But they did make progress until they were stuck at a junction and no one would let them in. Viggo sighed and put his head in his hands. He knew he was going to miss Orlando; he was going to miss his last chance.

The traffic continued to pass by without let up. "Bugger this for a bunch of bananas!" Dom popped the boot open and leapt out. Everyone in the car watched in shock as he boldly stepped into the intersection and started directing traffic. "Stop!" he yelled. "Stop!" Brakes squealed and suddenly a small path opened up. "Go! Go! Go!" He motioned for Sean to drive through.

Exene leaned out the window and shouted, "You're my hero!" She blew him a kiss and waved.

Dom waved back madly and was nearly hit by a car trying to zoom past him.

*

The car slammed to a stop and Viggo jumped out. "Thanks, Sean!"

"Go!" Sean motioned for him to hurry.

*

"Excuse me, where's the press conference?" Viggo asked the clerk.

"Are you an accredited member of the press?" The clerk definitely was not impressed by Viggo in his shirtsleeves, looking rumpled with his hair wild.

"Yes...." He flashed a card he hastily pulled from his wallet.

"That's a Blockbuster video membership card, sir." The man was not amused.

"That's right." Trying to think quickly on his feet, he ad-libbed, "I work for their in-house magazine. 'Movies are our business.'"

"I'm sorry, sir...." The clerk shook his head.

"He's with me." Liv's chair was pushed by Exene as they entered the lobby.

"And you are?"

"Writing an article about how London hotels treat people in wheelchairs," she informed him.

"Of course, madam." The clerk looked uncomfortable. "It's in the Lancaster Room. I'm afraid you're very late."

"Run!" Exene advised Viggo.

*

Viggo hurried through the maze of corridors reading door signs and trying door handles. Finally, he walked into a huge room filled with journalists and cameras. He spotted Orlando at the front of the room seated at a table with Ngila and Mark on either side.

"Does that mean that Orlando won't be doing any publicity for his next picture?"

"No." Viggo noticed the name plate in front of the man read 'Mark Ordesky.' "No, Mr. Bloom will fulfill all his current contractual obligations." Mark glanced over at Orlando. "He just won't be taking on any new projects for the next...." The actor nodded. "...year."

Viggo threaded his way through the reporters trying to get a clear view of Orlando.

"Yes...." Mark nodded. "You -- Richard."

"How much longer are you staying in the UK then?" Richard asked.

"No time at all. I fly out tonight." There was a slight air of melancholy hanging over the actor.

"Which is why we have to round it up now. Final questions." Mark pointed to a journalist.

"Is your decision to take a year off anything to do with the rumours about Kate and her present leading man?" the woman journalist asked.

"Absolutely not."

"Do you believe the rumours?" the woman asked a follow up.

"It's really not my business any more. Though I will say, from my experience that rumours about Kate...." Orlando gave just a slight smile. "...do tend to be true." There were a number of amused snickers as the journalists scribbled in their notebooks.

"Last time you were here, there were some fairly graphic photographs of you and a guy...." The reporter was standing next to Viggo. "So what happened there?"

"He was just a friend...." Orlando answered. "We're still friends.... I think."

"Yes, the gentleman in the pink shirt." Mark pointed directly at Viggo.

"Yes." Viggo was a bit surprised to be called upon. "Mister Bloom... are there any circumstances in which you two might be more than just friends?" He saw the younger man's eyes widened when he saw who was asking the question.

"I hoped there might be." A slight pause, then Orlando continued, "But no, I'm assured there aren't."

"And what would you say--"

"No, it's just one question per person," Mark cut him off.

"No, let him... ask away. You were saying?" Orlando looked directly at Viggo.

"Yes, I just wondered whether if it turned out that this... person...."

"His name's Mortensen," one of the journalists supplied.

"Thanks." Viggo nodded. "I just wondered if Mr. Mortensen realized he'd been a daft prick and got down on his knees and begged you to reconsider, whether you would... reconsider."

The room went quiet; the reporters sensing there was something special happening in front of them. Exene, Sean, Liv and Billy were holding their breath as they watched on monitors in an overflow area.

"....Yes." Orlando's eyes twinkled. "I'm pretty sure I would."

"That's very good news." Viggo almost could not believe it. "The readers of 'Horse and Hound' will be absolutely delighted."

Orlando leaned close to Mark and whispered something. The publicity director frowned but looked to the journalists. "Richard... if you'd like to ask your question again?"

"Yes." The man was surprised but played along. "Orlando, how long are you intending to stay here in Britain?"

Orlando looked at Viggo and they shared a private moment across the room.

"Indefinitely."

Orlando and Viggo smiled; their eyes locked. There was a growing murmur as the press finally realized what had just happened. Cameras flashed as reporters shouted questions to both of them. Mark scratched his head as he looked from Orlando to Viggo.

"Yes!" Sean and Liv kissed. Billy let out a whoop and grabbed the woman reporter next to him and kissed her. She smiled at him, definitely not upset.

"What happened?!" Dom gasped as he ran in. He was panting, his face bright red, his hair sweaty and sticking out wildly.

"It was good," Exene assured him and then hugged and kissed him. He looked shocked, but happy.

Flashes strobed around them, but Viggo and Orlando were unaware of anyone else. They simply continued to smile.

*

Orlando and Viggo paused at the top of the steps. They kissed then walked down to the reception. Exene, dressed in peach satin was surrounded by four bridesmaids all under five years. She grinned at Viggo and Orlando as they mingled.

Elijah beamed with pride as he stood next to the pyramid wedding cake he had created for his best friend. Orlando's silver tux contrasted beautifully with Sean's most devastating Bond-like black tuxedo as they danced. They did a flashy move and Liv laughed and applauded.

Viggo's mother brushed non-existent lint from his black tux and tried to brush his hair. He smiled but he moved off before she could do more. Billy danced with the woman reporter he had met at the press conference. Barrie bounced to his own beat, perfectly happy in his tweed suit in a corner.

*

Viggo swallowed the lump in his throat as the limousine pulled to a stop in front of the theatre. Orlando gave him a quick kiss just as the door was opened and the noise of the crowd washed over them. The younger man stepped out first; smiled and waved to the crowd. Viggo followed, but looked distinctly uncomfortable. Orlando took his hand and they started up the red carpet to the theatre.

Spotlights swept overhead as cameras flashed incessantly. Viggo stumbled, but Orlando held on to his hand tightly and just smiled at him. Suddenly, he did not mind the crowds and press. As long as his Orlando gave him his love, nothing else mattered.

*

A small tai chi group moved through its routine. Two eight-year-old boys laughed as they chased each other through the grown ups. A green communal garden was beautiful. A mother held her little girl's hands as she struggled to take her first steps.

At the top of a small rise, a couple occupied a simple wooden bench that overlooked the gardens. Viggo held his book with one hand as he read. The younger man had his legs draped over the arm of the bench and his head pillowed on Viggo's lap. Orlando's eyes were closed as he held on to his husband's free hand and listened to Viggo read.

~el fin~