Boring!Orli 12: Paying the Taxi Driver
Aug. 3rd, 2003 12:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321FICLET: "Paying the Taxi Driver"
SERIES: Nr. 12 of the Boring!Orli series. Back to nr. 11.
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Viggo Mortensen / Johnny Depp
Viggo stood on the landing outside Orli's flat. He stood on one leg. His right hand was braced against the wall for balance. His other hand was folded around his right foot. The foot was in pain. This was because a heavy piece of luggage had just fallen on it. Fallen on the foot and then tumbled down half a flight of stairs towards the man standing in the ground floor entrance hall.
That man was the taxi driver. He looked impatient. He looked sceptical. He wanted his money, and he wanted it now. And he wasn't going to take any lame excuses about his fare not "having had a chance to get British money" and about "just having arrived in the UK and being under the impression that euros would suffice".
"Orlando?" Viggo continued his vigorous knocking on the non-descript door. He pressed his eye to the spyhole at eye-height. He rattled the chrome doorknob.
The taxi driver crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
The door opened. Viggo, in mid-knock, lost his footing and flopped forwards. He landed in someone's warm arms. He fell against someone's hard chest. He smelled someone's sweat-soaked desire.
"Johnny. What are you doing here?"
"I..." said Johnny. "I..."
"Viggo!" cried Orli's voice from inside the corridor. "So nice to..." There was the sound of a zipper being pulled up. "... see you!" And then Orli's head appeared around Johnny's shoulder. "I was just... Well, wait until you hear all that's been happening. I mean... Wow, who's that man?"
"Taxi driver. This is a bit embarrassing, but do you have some cash to give this man?"
Orli dug around for cash. Orli dashed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Orli reappeared, breathless, at the door. Orli laughed at Viggo. Orli laughed at Johnny. Orli's eyes were as wild as two untamed cheetahs let loose in a cage full of rabbits. Orli was bubbling over with excitement and when he spoke, his tale went into fifteen directions all at once and the kettle spewed forth useless steam.
"Hang on, hang on," said Viggo, not quite sure whether to sit down on the sofa or follow Orli into the kitchen and whether to acknowledge Johnny Depp's presence or simply skirt his body like some natural obstacle, a hat stand, perhaps, or a 1950s tallboy, because Johnny was standing stock-still between kitchen and living room, half-blocking the way to each. His hair was a mess.
"Your hair is a mess," Orli said to Johnny in passing and reached up to ruffle it. Then Orli lifted up Viggo's wrist, twisted it round to look at the Swatch and said, "Almost time for my next lot of ointment." Then he sprinted to the phone, dialled a number and said, "Dom? It's me. I can't believe we have to go down to the station again. Guess what? Viggo's just arrived. Do you think they have a new lead? I mean, what was so important about that videotape anyway? Do you think secret clues were planted in it? Yes, yes, that's nice about your new record of the Satin Overground, but let's just think about this tape thing." Then he put down the phone, hastened back into the kitchen, looked around vaguely for mugs and teabags, forgot to assemble them, left teabags dangling abortively into the sink and mugs yawning on the sidelines, because he was off to the bathroom. The door banged shut with a decisive click.
"What happened to him?" said Viggo. He peered more closely at the whites of Johnny's eyes. "And what happened to you? I'm Viggo, by the way. Pleased to meet you."
"I..." said Johnny.
Viggo grabbed a teabag and a mug and manfully made his own tea. He searched the fridge for some milk.
"He seems so agitated. Don't you think, Johnny? Not like his usual self at all."
"No," Johnny said dreamily. "Not like his old self."
Viggo sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and took a thoughtful sip. "No," he said slowly. "Not like his old self. He seems somehow more... I don't know, more... interesting."
"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" said Johnny in a veritable haze of ecstasy.
Viggo frowned. "I don't like it. Something's wrong. I liked the old Orli better."
"What?" Johnny snorted. "The repressed boring one?"
"The real Orli," said Viggo.
-----
TBC
lobelia40@yahoo.com
3 August 2003
SERIES: Nr. 12 of the Boring!Orli series. Back to nr. 11.
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Viggo Mortensen / Johnny Depp
Viggo stood on the landing outside Orli's flat. He stood on one leg. His right hand was braced against the wall for balance. His other hand was folded around his right foot. The foot was in pain. This was because a heavy piece of luggage had just fallen on it. Fallen on the foot and then tumbled down half a flight of stairs towards the man standing in the ground floor entrance hall.
That man was the taxi driver. He looked impatient. He looked sceptical. He wanted his money, and he wanted it now. And he wasn't going to take any lame excuses about his fare not "having had a chance to get British money" and about "just having arrived in the UK and being under the impression that euros would suffice".
"Orlando?" Viggo continued his vigorous knocking on the non-descript door. He pressed his eye to the spyhole at eye-height. He rattled the chrome doorknob.
The taxi driver crossed his arms and tapped his foot.
The door opened. Viggo, in mid-knock, lost his footing and flopped forwards. He landed in someone's warm arms. He fell against someone's hard chest. He smelled someone's sweat-soaked desire.
"Johnny. What are you doing here?"
"I..." said Johnny. "I..."
"Viggo!" cried Orli's voice from inside the corridor. "So nice to..." There was the sound of a zipper being pulled up. "... see you!" And then Orli's head appeared around Johnny's shoulder. "I was just... Well, wait until you hear all that's been happening. I mean... Wow, who's that man?"
"Taxi driver. This is a bit embarrassing, but do you have some cash to give this man?"
Orli dug around for cash. Orli dashed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Orli reappeared, breathless, at the door. Orli laughed at Viggo. Orli laughed at Johnny. Orli's eyes were as wild as two untamed cheetahs let loose in a cage full of rabbits. Orli was bubbling over with excitement and when he spoke, his tale went into fifteen directions all at once and the kettle spewed forth useless steam.
"Hang on, hang on," said Viggo, not quite sure whether to sit down on the sofa or follow Orli into the kitchen and whether to acknowledge Johnny Depp's presence or simply skirt his body like some natural obstacle, a hat stand, perhaps, or a 1950s tallboy, because Johnny was standing stock-still between kitchen and living room, half-blocking the way to each. His hair was a mess.
"Your hair is a mess," Orli said to Johnny in passing and reached up to ruffle it. Then Orli lifted up Viggo's wrist, twisted it round to look at the Swatch and said, "Almost time for my next lot of ointment." Then he sprinted to the phone, dialled a number and said, "Dom? It's me. I can't believe we have to go down to the station again. Guess what? Viggo's just arrived. Do you think they have a new lead? I mean, what was so important about that videotape anyway? Do you think secret clues were planted in it? Yes, yes, that's nice about your new record of the Satin Overground, but let's just think about this tape thing." Then he put down the phone, hastened back into the kitchen, looked around vaguely for mugs and teabags, forgot to assemble them, left teabags dangling abortively into the sink and mugs yawning on the sidelines, because he was off to the bathroom. The door banged shut with a decisive click.
"What happened to him?" said Viggo. He peered more closely at the whites of Johnny's eyes. "And what happened to you? I'm Viggo, by the way. Pleased to meet you."
"I..." said Johnny.
Viggo grabbed a teabag and a mug and manfully made his own tea. He searched the fridge for some milk.
"He seems so agitated. Don't you think, Johnny? Not like his usual self at all."
"No," Johnny said dreamily. "Not like his old self."
Viggo sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and took a thoughtful sip. "No," he said slowly. "Not like his old self. He seems somehow more... I don't know, more... interesting."
"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" said Johnny in a veritable haze of ecstasy.
Viggo frowned. "I don't like it. Something's wrong. I liked the old Orli better."
"What?" Johnny snorted. "The repressed boring one?"
"The real Orli," said Viggo.
-----
TBC
lobelia40@yahoo.com
3 August 2003