Title: "Six Times Orlando Bloom Was A Hero (And One Time He Was Rescued)" Featuring: Orlando Bloom with Marton Csokas, Josh Hartnett, Sean Bean, Jake Gyllenhaal, Eric Bana, Johnny Depp and Karl Urban Rating: PG-13 overall Disclaimer: Never happened. Summary: Seven parts AU, equal parts imagination. Stir. Notes: Written to celebrate the birthday of Mr. Orlando Bloom. Thanks to Jo, Bone, Alison, Selkie, Mel, Az, Jackie, Gigi, JS, Dienw, Ali, and Galor for the prompts and pairings. A special thanks goes out to G for the beta. :) The Winning Pass (Marton Csokas, tight) The football spiraled through the air in a perfect arc, dropping into Marton's outstretched arms with laser-like precision one step ahead of the defender. Orlando watched down the field with bated breath, like everyone else in the stadium, as Marton broke free of one tackle, then side-stepped another linesman on his way into the end zone. Touchdown, game over. The crowd erupted into pandemonium, rattling the stands with euphoric noise. Orlando was lifted clean off of his feet by Lawrence, his center, and he pumped his fist to the sky in celebration. He'd played his entire career for this moment. When he was set back on the grass, Marton was in front of him, helmet already off, wide, easy grin in place. He placed the game-winning football in Orlando's hand, the touch just a shade too long for teammate. "Congrats, man. They'll be giving you the key to the city for that throw." "Hey, I'm just happy you caught it," Orlando replied, and, tucking the football under one arm, used the other to pull Marton close to him for a tight, hard hug. They'd share this moment with the fans, their fellow teammates, the coaches, and the city. But later, when it was just the two of them, they'd celebrate properly. *** Courage Under Fire (Josh Hartnett, trust) Orlando's throat was filled with ash, choking the air from his lungs. The heat from the raging fire was a greedy inferno, unbearable, threatened to suffocate him where he stood. To go back in the building was the worst sort of insanity. Except that there were people still trapped inside. A gloved hand clapped him on the back. Orlando turned, met his partner's gaze. Even the oxygen mask covering Josh's face couldn't hide his glee. It took a special kind of crazy to run into a fire, and Josh had it in spades. "Ready, man?" The words were distorted, muted by the mask. Orlando nodded and pulled his own mask back on. Took a deep, cleansing breath, and gestured at the still blazing building. "After you." "Stick close, lay low, I'll buy you a beer after." "Two," Orlando corrected, and they shared a smile before jogging into the fiery remains of the entrance. It took a special sort of crazy to do what they did. Luckily for Orlando, he had a partner who was just as crazy as he was. *** Just What The Doctor Ordered (Sean Bean, candy) Orlando pasted his best smile on his face, and stepped into the exam room, chart in hand. "Alright, Lorna," he said, addressing the small girl seated on the table, "what seems to be the problem?" Pixieish features twisted into a pout. "Hurts," she replied, and turned, burying her face in the crook of her father's arm. "Mr. Bean?" Orlando prompted, smile softening once he saw the look of utter panic on Sean's face. Poor guy had it rough, single father with three very rambunctious daughters. He was forever in Orlando's offices with one ailment or scrape or another. Not that Orlando minded. Sean, with his rangy build and laughing green eyes, was certainly easy enough to look at, and the girls, for the most part, were well-behaved. Sean hugged Lorna to him reassuringly, but the look he gave Orlando was still filled with the sort of helpless frustration that every parent of a sick or hurting child had ever felt. "She was fine last night, but she woke up with a scratchy throat and a slight fever." "Well, let's see what we can do to make that better," Orlando said, and patted Sean's arm. If his touch lingered a little too long, it was a harmless enough indulgence. "I appreciate it," Sean replied, and placed a kiss to his daughter's head. When he glanced back up at Orlando, his look had changed from panicked to shy. "Tell me, Doctor..." "Orlando, remember." "Orlando. What's your...is there some sort of rule against going out for coffee with the parent of one of your patients?" Orlando, who had been pulling on his gloves, turned to look – really look – at Sean. What he saw encouraged him to take the chance. "No, there isn't," he finally replied, certain his smile had to rival the overhead light for brilliance. "And if that was your clever way of asking me out, the answer's yes." "Really?" Then Sean laughed, the sound endearingly embarrassed. "Great, I mean. Great." Lorna hid her triumphant smile by pressing her face more firmly into her dad's jacket. Molly and Evie were going to be so jealous that she was the one that finally got him together with Dr. Bloom. *** Surrogate (Jake Gyllenhaal, boner) "You're sure you don't mind doing this?" Jake asked, twisting his hands in a nervous gesture as he followed Orlando from the grill on the patio into the spacious kitchen. "I mean, I know it's a massive favor..." "Dude, I said I'd do it." Orlando stopped, turned, tray of burgers still in his hands. "I know how long you and Anne have been trying." "We'd just...man, I mean, we'd just rather have someone we know, and, well, you're my best friend." Orlando laughed, and finally set the burgers on the counter. He went to the fridge and pulled out two cold Buds, slapping one into Jake's palm. "Seriously, relax. If you don't mind that you and Anne'll be responsible for raising a kid with my DNA, then I'm happy to jerk off into a cup for you." "It sounds so sexy when you say it." "Well, I could impregnate your beautiful wife the old-fashioned way..." "Nice try," Jake laughed. "Worth a shot," Orlando replied with a leering waggle of his eyebrows. "So, here's to you, Dad." He clinked their bottlenecks together in a toast. And pretended not to notice the telltale sheen in Jake's eyes. *** A Day In The Life (Eric Bana, reluctant) Orlando was woken out of a dead sleep by Eric, his majordomo, dumping his bloodied and torn costume on top of his head. "Whazzat, huh?" He rubbed his eyes, blinked blearily, and stared up – and up – into Eric's murderous gaze. "While I do not mind waiting up at all hours for you to get home from your escapades," each word was clipped, filled with disdain, "I draw the line at this." "I'm sorry?" Orlando sat up, feeling a little like he was still asleep. He desperately wished for a cup of strong, black coffee and about four painkillers. That last kick he'd taken before he'd been able to stun his opponent felt like it had come from a horse. He didn't even want to contemplate what his ribcage looked like. "Is it too much to ask that, just once, you come home from saving the world with your uniform intact and not reeking of blood?" "Probably," Orlando groaned, and fell back on the pillows. Fuck, but he was getting too old for this shit. "I would appreciate it if you'd try, at least." Then, point having been made, Eric's demeanor turned business-like. "Shall I fetch the first aid kit?" "No, but some vicodin wouldn't go amiss." "Very good, sir." Eric turned sharply on his heel and left the room. Orlando pushed the tattered remnants of his costume to the floor and strongly contemplated a life as an accountant. *** Just The Facts (Johnny Depp, longing, distortion, sultry) Orlando pushed his glasses back up his nose with an impatient finger, blinked away the sweat distorting his vision, and scribbled another note onto the legal pad. "Now, you're certain those were Boomer's exact words," he said, glancing at the man across the table from him. Johnny's handcuffs jangled as he fished a cigarette out of the pack on the table and lit it. "Yeah, man, I'm sure. 'Grimaldi's gonna shit a brick when he finds out.' Exact words." "And you think he meant Louis Grimaldi?" "Ain't exactly a common last name, y'know." "No, I suppose not." Orlando consulted his notes again, and tugged absently at his tie. It was hotter than hell in the claustrophobically tiny room, but at least he wasn't stuck wearing the orange jumpsuit his client was forced to wear. "And Boomer's had dealings with Grimaldi?" "Yeah." White smoke plumed over Johnny's head when he exhaled, shimmering the air. "Usedta do some running for him back in the day." "And you know where the drop was?" "Back of the old Biltmore, at least, that's what Boomer said." Johnny leaned forward, lank hair falling across his forehead. "I didn't kill that man or dump his body, I swear to you. And I don't think Boomer did, either, but I think he knows who did." Orlando fixed Johnny with his most level look. "I don't think you did, either, Mr. Depp. And I'll do my best to make sure you don't spend another day in jail for this." The corners of Johnny's lips quirked into a smile. "It'd be nice to be out in time for my daughter's birthday." "Count on it." *** Tall, Dark And Gorgeous (Karl Urban, slither, peace, licorice, hot) The bar was the worst sort of meat market, but Dom had insisted on checking the place out, so Orlando had played the dutiful friend and tagged along. What he got for playing the Good Samaritan. Dom, the fucker, had disappeared over a half hour ago with some skeevy blond surfer dude with a suspiciously fake accent and an even more clichéd peace symbol tattoo on his forearm, leaving Orlando alone. Well, not precisely alone, as some very well-meaning, but incredibly boring dude on the stool next to him had spent the past ten minutes in a pathetic attempt at flirting. Of course, the man's idea of flirting had, so far, consisted of pontificating on the very exciting nature of his job, which involved heat reactors or core defibrillators or possibly something molecular and sci-fi geeky. Orlando didn't know, and truly didn't care. He was trying to find some polite way of extracting himself from the conversation (the man was nice enough and seemed a little bit lonely) when a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind and a soft kiss was placed to his neck. "Sorry I kept you waiting, love." Even the voice was velvet-smooth. "Who's your friend?" Orlando tilted his head back and met the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes he'd ever seen. And the rest of the face was just as nice – nice forehead, square jaw, sharp cheekbones. Orlando had no idea who this guy was, but he was helping Orlando out, so he wasn't going to complain. He brushed an errant lock of dark hair out of the man's face, both to see if it was as silky as he'd thought (it was), and to sell the idea of the two of them as a couple, and turned back to the nice geek. "Sorry, love, I was just passing the time with...I'm sorry, I don't think I ever got your name." "Uh...Elijah," came the stammered reply. Poor guy couldn't stop staring at tall, dark and gorgeous. Orlando didn't blame him. "I'll just, uh, here, you can...um." He hurriedly got up, gesturing at the stool, then disappeared into the crowd. Orlando's rescuer wasted no time in taking the vacant seat, much to Orlando's chagrin. He'd liked the feel of those arms wrapped tight around him. However, now that the guy was facing him, Orlando could study that face better. And the rest of the body that went with it. Tall, dark, gorgeous, and built like a brick shithouse. Suddenly, his night was looking way up. "You're a lifesaver," he said, injecting all of his considerable flirtatious charm into the words. The answering smile was everything Orlando had hoped. "You did have the look of a man in dire need. What're you drinking? We must maintain appearances, lest your friend comes back." "Gin and tonic." Orlando leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial. "I'm Orlando." "Karl." He gestured to the bartender for two more, then ran his fingers along the back of Orlando's hand in an intimate gesture that was somehow the sexiest thing in the universe. "And I must say, the pleasure is all mine to see someone real in a joint like this." "It is rather awful, isn't it?" Orlando replied, looking around again before settling his gaze back on Karl's face. A much better view, in his opinion. "My friend Dom dragged me." "You need better friends, mate," Karl laughed, and accepted the drinks from the bartender, waving off Orlando's attempt to pay. "You can get the next round." Orlando clinked his glass to Karl's. Next round implied Karl wanted to stick around, which was a major victory from where Orlando was sitting. "Why're you here?" "Friend dragged me, too," Karl shrugged. "But now I feel like I owe him." "Maybe we both do," Orlando murmured. "Thanks again." Karl waved him off as he took a long, bracing pull from his drink. "Don't mention it. I have faith you'll find a way to show your appreciation." Orlando had a list, actually. A very long one. "I'm sure I can think of something you want," he replied, and leered in what he hoped was a friendly, sexy, and not totally sketchy, way. "I'm sure you can," Karl told him, and waggled his eyebrows. "Besides, anticipation is half the fun." "What's the other half?" "The hot, sweaty, fantastic sex we're going to have later, of course," Karl said promptly, and leaned in close, brushing a firm kiss across Orlando's lips. Karl tasted of something dark, sharp, mysterious. Already, Orlando wanted more. "Here's to the rest of the night, then," he said, and returned the kiss with one of his own. He definitely owed Dom a thank you for this. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!