Title: "If You Forget Me" Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen (Karl Urban/Viggo Mortensen) Rating: R (language) Summary: A series of messages. Disclaimer: I own nothing, I know nothing. I am but a poor bard plying my trade for amusement, nothing more. Notes: For Belinda for the Slashy Valentine 2005 challenge. Title taken from the poem of the same name by Pablo Neruda. "We underestimate damage Done to the sky When we allow words To slip away Into the clouds." -- Viggo Mortensen Mate, you have the oddest voice message I've ever heard. Is that your poetry you're quoting or just some random esoteric shite? Not that your poems are, but, eh, bollocks. Anyway, um, it's Orlando -- I mean, you probably know that already, but -- anyway, just, uh, calling, y'know. Maybe I'll see you at the pub, yeah? Take care. Oh, Vig, Vig, Vig -- where the hell are you, mate? Missed some of the most killer waves today, they were just...ah, I can't even describe 'em. Dun' have your gift. Just fuckin' pure bliss, mate. Shoulda been there. I was riding this one wave, yeah, and I swear, it was so fucking huge that I thought I was gonna be all swallowed like that Jonah fellow in the Bible. But I rode it, fuckin' owned that bad boy, and it was...the rush is incredible. Better'n bungee jumping. If you're lucky, I'll tell you about 'em later. Hope your day was half as good as mine. Vigggggyyyyy...um...fuck mu'no'be home ye...are you? Nah, still, um, stumblin' on home, stumblin', stumblin' stumblin', keep dem doggies stumblin' and I am wasted, mate. But...um...why'd I call, oh, oh, right, yer, um, a ver'good kisser. Or mebbe I am. Hey, we both! Both of us! It was you, right? Or wassit Bean? Anyway, I, um, well, I bet you...you would be. I love you, man!!! Ah fuck, but me head feels like lead. Fuck all. Remind me, y'know, never to drink. Ever. Buggerbugger. The hell are you, anyway? Shouldn't you be sleeping it off or something? But, um, if you're up and feel like a spot of coffee, take the edge off, fuckerfuckityfuck, call me. Hey, I didn't...nah, couldn't have called last night. Did I? Hey, you changed your poem, don't think I didn't notice. I just, oh man, I wish you were there. I just got finished reading that Neruda book you loaned me...mate, it's... Some deep shit, yeah. Like that one where he's all talking about that girl that he really loved, or maybe he didn't, but he was kinda used to her anyway...just...wow. I could just kinda feel his torment. Like how he misses what he had and all, even though he knows he'll never get it again. Good shit, oh, wait, I said that already. Um, anyway, I'll be around if you, y'know, wanted to talk about it or...give you your book back. Take care. Hey. Yeah, I know, you just left for the trailer, but I wanted you to have this when you came home. Sort of...dunno, a recording of what I'm -- just -- yeah. Thank you. God, that sounds so stupid, but I really mean it. I'll see you in a few minutes, alright. Feel free to ignore this one, I promise I won't be offended. Just wanted to thank you again for an incredible trip. I swear, how do you do it? Every time we go climbing, you find the most out of the way, beautiful spots. I bet you know trails the natives don't. Those little flowers that we saw on that one hike, y'know, by that one waterfall? The ones that looked like little geraniums, only purple? Or maybe geraniums are purple, I'm not certain. Bet me mum would know. Bet you do, too, don't you? Well, they were beautiful. And the air...God, I'm rambling, I know, I know, I'll stop. I'll wait and rhapsodize in person again. Viggo, you sexy beast, you. Don't think I don't know who it was that left that tin of biscuits in my chair during break. You're a marvel and I'm totally buying you a drink tonight, yeah? See you soon. Seems silly to be calling your machine when we're both staying in the same hotel, but I, well, I just feel like I've got this thing going on, I shouldn't mess with it. I don't even know what I wanted to say...well, maybe I do, but I don't think...anyway. You know. At least I hope you do. You always have. Christ, there I go, sounding like a girl again. Really gotta stop chillin' with Liv, I know. More testosterone, there's the answer. But tonight really was... I know, I know, I use incredible a lot, but it was. The way the moon was just hanging there, like, so big and close, felt like I could touch it. And the stars...not even in England are the stars so bright. I dunno why I tell your machine all this when I've got you right here, but, well, anyway, thanks again. Hey, it's me. Yeah, I know, leaving another message, when will I learn to stop using you as a vocal journal, but, seriously, I just had, like, the most incredibly odd dream and you were in it and I'll forget if I don't tell you now. So, um, remind me later, and we can talk about it. See, I was diving -- in the dream -- or maybe I was bungee-jumping, I'm not too clear, but I was falling and I was missing my parachute or my strap or whatever, and there you were, sitting on one of those genie carpets like in Aladdin or something, and you were wearing a turban and carrying a baby elephant in one hand and quoting me 'Upstairs Downstairs' lines, only in Spanish, but see...I was able to start flying after, so I didn't crash. Only I turned into a chocolate pop after and you ate me, but I don't get what that part means, so I'm hoping you have some insight. See you in a few. Hey there, stranger. Remember me, your good friend Orlando? Ah, well, you're probably off with Karl, aren't you? Keeping him all to yourself these days...sorry, bad joke. But, yeah, I do miss you. I mean, I miss him, but not as much...eh, fuck it. Too much more and it'll sound ridiculous. Call me when you can. You are missing the most brilliant sunset in the history of sunsets right now. I swear, Vig, it's like the entire sky is on fire. All of these bright oranges and yellows and pinks and the clouds, oh, Christ, I feel like I should be whispering or in church and you're missing this or maybe you're not. I hope you're off taking pictures, I really do. This is art. This is real art. Not home again. Well, you've become the elusive one, haven't you? Another camping or fishing trip? What I've always loved about you, the whole communing with nature thing. You remember when we used to go hiking? Just the two of us? But, I guess Karl knows a lot of good spots, and fuck, I sound like a jealous cunt. I'm not alright, but...well, maybe...just call me when you get home. Viggo, it's me...pick up. I know you're there, pick up. Fine, don't. I'm coming over. This is fucking...well, this is...are you there? Look, I'm sorry, alright. It's just...well, anyway, it's nothing I want to get into over the phone, so I'm coming over. Veeeeeeeeeeeg...oh ow!! Fuckin' hurts, um, ow. S'my shin. Schtupid table, leapin' out like that, jus'...in-in-wait, wassat word? Where someone's not polite? Anyway, doesn't, um, matter. Jus' because yer not. Um, polite, that is. Or maybe you are 'n' I'm not. M'sorry for las'...for the things I...I didn't mean it. Tell Karl m'sorry, wouldya? Love you both, Ima go and pass out now. Viggo, it's gorgeous. I can't even...I'm still sitting here, staring at it, and I can't even talk. Thank you so much. Is this the painting you were working on just before that canoeing trip you and I went on? I can't believe you just...left it on my doorstep like that. This is seriously the greatest gift. Ever. I mean it. Sloppy kisses when I see you, and don't think you're going to get out of it. This means...thank you. Thank you. Wow, I can't believe this is the last time I'll call your machine like this. Hard to believe it's all ending, innit? I mean, I guess we'll be back, but it won't be the same. Think we'll ever come back and go camping again, just, y'know, old times sake? Maybe, oh, that'd be great, I'll have to bring it up with the guys, we could, y'know, get together for a few days each year and...um, come here, I guess. Eh, I'm crap with planning, that's for you or Elwood, but, anyway, well...guess I'll see you at the party later. But if you wanted to meet up beforehand at -- oh, hey! Hey Vig, long time, mate, long time. What's it been, a year? Call me sometime, we'll catch up. I'm in L.A. now...and I've got a cellphone, can you believe it? Just so bloody surreal. I have no idea how to use it, but I have one. So, call me, alright? Oh, by the way, nice poem. Neruda, right? See, you did manage to teach me something in New Zealand. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!