Chapter Five
"Over-Easy Eggs"
Chapter Five: Over-Easy Eggs
"welcome to the real world,"
***
Orlando lay flat on his back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly as he listened to the voice through the phone pressed to his ear.
�And how is filming progressing?� Samantha�s smooth voice asked, slightly garbled over the line.
Orli sighed, twisting the phone cord around one finger as he spoke. �It�s exhausting,� he answered honestly, �but fun. We�re filming all out of order though, so it�s a bit confusing. Hard to keep track of what�s supposed to be going on.�
�Oh really? I can imagine that would get a little complicated. Have you been reading your books?�
Orli turned his head to look at The Lord of the Rings trilogy stacked on his nightstand. Only the Fellowship showed signs of being handled; the other two being in pristine bookshelf condition. �Um� yes,� he lied.
�You don�t lie very well, little brother. You never have.�
Orlando rolled his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach, picking up his copy of The Two Towers and flipping through it aimlessly. �I�m trying, Sam,� he insisted. �It�s just a little difficult to find any time to read these days, you know? I�m busy from at least five in the morning till at least ten at night. You try doing that seven days a week.�
�Oh, is Movie Star Orlando regretting his choice of career already?�
Orli narrowed his eyes at the mocking tone in his sister�s voice. �No,� he told her firmly. �I�m just tired, that�s all. This past week has been really hectic. But it�s not like I�m not having any fun. The guys here are all bloody brilliant. They�re a riot, the lot of them. I wouldn�t trade this job for the world.�
�Ah, that�s what I wanted to hear,� Sam said, and Orlando could hear the smile in her voice. �I hope these movies work out for you, Orli. If Mr. Jackson plays this right, it could really get your name out there.�
�So I�m hoping,� Orlando muttered, flopping over onto his back again.
�Have you heard anything from Maya lately?� Sam asked cautiously, obviously trying to be casual as she changed the subject.
�Yah,� Orlando answered slowly, frowning. �She called just the other day actually. Said Maude was doing fine.� He paused, and Sam waited patiently on the other side of the line. �She�s going to come visit me actually. Next week.� Orli couldn�t help but notice the painful stiffness in his own voice.
�Really?� Sam asked, though Orli got the impression she had known that already. �That�s great. How long is she staying for?�
�Oh,� Orli sighed, �four or five days, I think. I have most of next week off, so I�ll have plenty of time to show her around. I�m only scheduled to film on Wednesday.�
�Good,� Sam said. �She�s been talking about you nonstop since you left, you know.�
Orlando glanced over to his nightstand again, focusing on the framed picture that rested there. Maya�s smiling face grinned at him from over his own shoulder. He picked up the picture and looked at it for a long silent moment. At last the words that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue since Sam had first called blurted themselves into the phone: �Sam� I have a bit of a problem��
�Oh?� Samantha�s tone changed into a mix of concern, worry, and curiosity. �What�s wrong?�
�I think�� Orlando hesitated, then forced himself to say it out loud, �I think I might break up with Maya.�
A brief silence followed as Sam registered his words. �I see�� she said at last. �Well� that�s not necessarily a problem, it happens. You shouldn�t have to feel bad about it.�
�But I do,� Orli told his sister, relieved to finally be talking to someone about this. It had been nagging at the back of his mind for weeks now, until he thought he would go crazy from indecision. �I really like Maya,� he said truthfully. �She�s a very nice girl, but�� he faltered; searching for words to express feelings he didn�t quite understand.
�Ohhh,� Samantha drawled into his ear, sounding as if she suddenly understood everything. �But there�s someone else. Is that it?�
Orli freed his fingers from the tangle of phone cord and stuck his free hand behind his head, looking to the ceiling as if he could find the words there. He opened his mouth to answer but then hesitated. �I don�t know,� he said at last.
Samantha snorted. �You don�t know? How can you not know?�
�I just don�t know,� Orlando insisted. �It�s� a little complicated.�
�Complicated?� There was a short pause. �Complicated how?� she asked suspiciously, and Orlando could only imagine the things his sister was thinking up at the moment.
�She�s one of my instructors, Sam,� he admitted reluctantly, if only to keep her from thinking up even more horrible things. �That makes it a little complicated.�
The following silence rang in his ears and Orlando sighed heavily into the phone, already having an idea as to what his sister would say in reply to such a revelation.
�I see,� Sam said again. �That�s bad, Orli.�
Orlando ran a hand over his newly cut mohawk in frustration. �Yah, Sam, thanks. You don�t think I already know that? I can�t fucking help it� I like her.�
�How much time have you spent with this instructor lately?� Sam asked suddenly.
Orlando shrugged to himself. �I see her a few times a week at least.�
�For your lessons?�
�Um� yah�� he answered cautiously, �and sometimes for other things too.�
�Other things? Like what?�
�I don�t know. Fun stuff. We have lunch together, she went surfing with us once, and we went to the Maori Festival together��
�Orlando,� Samantha scolded, �you shouldn�t be doing that. Isn�t that against the rules or something?�
�No,� Orlando retorted, �it�s not against the rules to hang out and have fun. It�s against the rules to get romantically involved with someone on the shoot��
�Isn�t that what you�re doing?�
Orlando glared at the wall, struggling for an answer. �Well� no,� he finally sputtered. �We�re not romantically involved��
�But you want to be! Isn�t that what you were just telling me?�
Orlando blinked at the mention of this point and then sulked as he realized it was all too true. �Yah� I guess so,� he finally admitted slowly. �But Sam-�
�But nothing, Orlando. You can�t do this. You don�t need to be starting any trouble right now. This is your first real project and you can�t be taking any chances of screwing it up.�
Orlando gritted his teeth, barely resisting the sudden urge to hang up on her. �Are you my sister or my bloody agent?� he growled harshly.
Samantha sighed heavily through the phone and a short moment of silence stretched between them before she spoke again. �I�m sorry, Orli,� she said quietly. �I didn�t mean it to sound that way. I just think� I just think you should be careful with all of this, okay?�
He rolled his eyes, glad she couldn�t see him, and made no reply.
�Maya really likes you and I think you should at least give her another chance. Just spend some time with her when she comes to visit you and see if you really want to break up with her. I mean� she may not be worth losing over this instructor of yours, especially when you really shouldn�t even be entertaining the idea of such a relationship in the first place. You know what I mean?�
Orli took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and told himself this is what he got for telling Sam anything in the first place. �I guess,� he finally relented.
�Look, little brother, how many times have you come to me with your girl problems?�
Orli sat up at the question, grimacing and running a hand over his face. �More than I should,� he muttered. �But I assure you, never again. I�ve learned my lesson this time.�
�But how many times have I been right? Hrm? Have I ever let you down? Ever?�
Orlando groaned, his hand running over his shortened hair again. �No,� he mumbled. God how he hated it when his sister was right. And she often was right. Too often.
�Exactly. So trust me on this one, Orlando. Don�t let yourself get too close to your instructor� at least not until filming is over.�
�That�s like a year and a half away,� he commented dryly.
He could almost hear Samantha shrug. �Well, if it�s meant to happen then that won�t matter.�
�Fuck. I hate it when you say that.�
�You�re the one who brought this up.�
�I�m sorry I did.�
�I�m just telling you what I think of the situation, Orlando. But in the end it�s still all up to you.�
�Yah�� he glanced over his shoulder to the picture of him and Maya on the nightstand again. �Look, Sam, I appreciate your concern for my career and your advice for my love life, but I�d better get going. I�m supposed to meet some of the guys at the pub tonight and I�m going to be late if I don�t leave in the next five minutes.�
She grunted. �Is your instructor going to be there?�
�No.� The answer was cold, but she shrugged off his tone.
�All right then. I�ve got to get to work anyway. It might be night down there, but the day�s just getting started for the rest of us. Have fun and be careful. And call mum soon will you? She�d like to hear from you.�
�Yes, Sam. I�ll call her later this week.�
�Good. Okay, Orli, I�ll talk to you later. Remember what I said. Love you.�
�Right,� he forced out, and then he hung up. He sat for a while on the edge of his bed, absently staring down at his hands in his lap. Samantha couldn�t be right this time. At least, she couldn�t be completely right. He had been going out with Maya for seven months now, and he�d never felt the same way around her as he felt around Erin.
Granted, four of those months now he had been in New Zealand while Maya was still in London� but he had felt more strongly toward Erin in the first month he�d known her than all three of his months with Maya combined. There was something about Miss Taylor� something that made him want to be around her. During their lessons she seemed so reserved, so serious, and yet many a time he had seen the spark of mischief behind her crystalline eyes. There was an inner fire to her, an inner urgency, that Orlando had only been able to catch glimpses of in all the months he�d known her. But he knew it was there. He could sense it while standing next to her, could see it when she finally let down her guard. Her smile and her laugh let it out, and at those moments he could see her great love of living life; her childish side, her softer side. And then it disappeared again, buried under her professional, carefully controlled self.
Those swift glances into the real Erin Taylor lured him. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh, the one to make her break professional routine, the one to whom she chose to always show her softer, more childish side.
Orli nodded to himself at the thought, standing from his bed and reaching over to put the picture of him and Maya face down on the nightstand. Then he stood for a moment, hands in his back pockets, briefly thinking over what he was about to do.
He didn�t actually have any plans for that night, he had just told Samantha about the pub to get her off the phone. But now that her voice was no longer in his ear he felt distinctly lonely, his bedroom far too quiet. He was exhausted, but sleep seemed out of reach now, and what he really wanted to do� well, what he really wanted to do was go and see Erin.
He bit his lip, checking his watch. It was already 8:32pm, and it would take him at least an hour to reach her house. But still�
Don�t let yourself get too close to your instructor� at least not until filming is over.
Orlando frowned at the memory of Sam�s advice and moved to grab his jacket from where it lay over the armchair. He didn�t care what Samantha said, and he didn�t care what time it was. He was going to go visit Erin, and if she turned him away at the door than he would just drive all the way back. But at the moment there was no one else he would rather spend time with, and he didn�t see why he should deny himself some good company just because of his sister�s opinion on the matter.
Orlando walked swiftly through the living room, snatching up his keys on the way, and headed out the door.
***
Erin frowned as she looked at a much handled section of The Fellowship script. She snuggled deeper into the pillows propped against her back and pulled the quilt up over her legs onto her lap. She took the highlighter from between her teeth and uncapped it, then highlighted in brilliant yellow all the parts where the horses were needed.
The section of script in her hand was the �Bree Scene�, as it had been dubbed, and it required all nine of the Nazg�l horses again. She was not looking forward to this one, however. Mostly because the scene called for �heavy rain�, and that meant being wet� wet clothes, wet costumes, wet horses, wet tack, and slippery mud. None of which she really cared for. But she would just have to grit her teeth and deal with it, as usual. At least she was getting paid.
She was just about to highlight the part where the horses knocked down the gate of Bree when her doorbell rang. Erin paused, the tip of the highlighter poised above the paper. She blinked, thinking for a moment she had been hearing things. She glanced at the clock, saw it was 9:47pm. Who�?
The doorbell rang again, followed by a somewhat hesitant knock. Erin put down the script and the highlighter and threw back the covers, going to peer out of her bedroom window to her driveway below. Her porch light still shone out weakly against the surrounding dark of night and in it�s washed out glow she saw a car parked behind her truck.
She squinted at it, thinking she recognized it. Growing a bit concerned, Erin threw on a sweatshirt over her t-shirt and took a quick glance in the mirror to be sure she didn�t look completely ridiculous in her pajama pants. She quickly wrapped her hair up into a ponytail and then ran down the short flight of steps to the foyer. She went to the front door and stood on her tiptoes to look out the peephole. She frowned at the slightly distorted face it revealed, then unlocked the door and swung it open.
Orlando stood sheepishly on the other side of the screen door, hands in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably. Erin blinked at him.
�Orlando?� she asked uncertainly. �What�s wrong? What�s going on?�
He cleared his throat, looking down to his sneakered feet before raising his eyes to meet hers. �Nothing�s wrong,� he said quietly. �I� I just� I came to talk, if you don�t mind?�
Erin stared at him. �Nothing�s wrong?� she asked again, finding it hard to believe he would drive all the way out to her house just �to talk�.
But he shook his head.
Erin let out a breath of relief. For a moment there she had feared something had gone wrong at the barn, or maybe something had happened to one of the cast or crew. �So�� she tilted her head, regarding him skeptically, �you came to talk, huh?�
He nodded silently and Erin could tell he grew more and more uncomfortable by the minute. A hint of red began to show beneath his cheeks.
�Orlando,� she sighed, �do you know what time it is?�
His eyes dropped to his shoes again. �Yah, you�re right,� he mumbled. �I�m sorry. I don�t know what I was thinking. Sorry to have disturbed you. Good night, Erin.�
He turned and headed down the porch steps toward his car.
�Orlando!� Erin called suddenly, and he turned to face her, dark brows lifted in question. �What are you going to do, drive all the way back to Seatoun?�
He nodded. �Yep.� He moved around to the driver�s side door.
Erin watched him, but just as he was about to climb into the car she sighed heavily and gave up. �Orlando, wait,� she yelled, and opened the screen door to lean out over the porch. He looked back at her and she waved for him to come in. �If you�re going to drive all the way out here then at least� come in for some� tea� or� something!�
He hesitated. �Are you sure? It is awfully late��
�I wasn�t ready for bed yet, anyway. Now come on.�
He smiled.
God damn that smile, Erin thought as he slammed the car door shut and practically scampered up to the porch. She stepped aside to let him in and as he stepped through the doorway into the hall Erin rolled her eyes, halfway irritated at herself for giving in to him. Just don�t make this a habit, she told herself.
***
Erin groggily roused herself from sleep, thinking she heard someone talking. But that, of course, was impossible, and she resolutely shut her eyes again, rolling over and pulling the covers up under her chin.
�Psst.� Something gingerly poked her arm. �Erin? How do you like your eggs?�
Erin pulled her eyelids open at the whisper and stared straight into a pair of dark, chocolate brown eyes. She startled at the closeness of them, fully awake now, and sat straight up in the bed, clutching the bed covers around her. �Jesus!� she hissed, and Orlando sprang backwards at her movement, looking as surprised as she felt.
�Orlando!� she scolded, looking around her bedroom quickly for any underwear or other such unmentionables she might have left out in plain sight. �What are you doing in my room?� She relaxed her hold on the sheets, realizing she still wore the sweatshirt from the night before, but found herself very glad she had decided to keep her pants on instead of just sleeping in her underwear like she normally did.
�I � I just wanted to know how you like your eggs!� he protested, moving so that he stood in the hallway just outside her bedroom door, making sure the toes of his socks were right even with the line that separated the carpet of the hallway with the hardwood of her bedroom floor.
Erin had to bite back her sudden urge to laugh. Sometimes he was just too ridiculous. �What?� she managed to choke out between her swallowed giggles.
He smiled at her, that brilliant, disarming smile, and repeated himself. �I�m making breakfast for us, and for the fourth time, I would like to know how you like your eggs? Scrambled? Over-easy? Sunny-side-up?�
Erin rubbed her tired eyes and looked to the clock. It was only 5:45am. But that would make perfect sense, because they would have to have to time to eat the breakfast before heading out for a long day of filming. She took a deep breath and let it out heavily, looking back to Orlando, who still stood waiting in the doorway. She smiled at him.
�You�re making breakfast?�
He shrugged. �It seemed the least I could do. You let me stay at your house, and I still owe you for about� oh� fifty or so lunches.� He winked.
�Mm. True. Well then�� She paused suddenly, listening intently. There was noise coming from downstairs, a familiar steady rhythm, and she could now and then make out some faint words� �Orlando,� she asked slowly, �is that� Tea Party?� playing downstairs?�
He grinned guiltily. �Yah. Sorry� I needed something to wake me up. I went through your CD collection. It�s quite impressive, you know. And you�ve got some damn good stuff.�
Erin looked at him, unsure of whether to be miffed that he went nosing through her things or happy that he liked the same kind of music she did. But he spoke again before she could comment.
�I thought a girl like you would be listening to country all the time.�
Erin narrowed her eyes at his statement, feigning offense. �And what�s wrong with country music?� she demanded.
He drew back, raising his hands in surrender. �Nothing. There�s nothing wrong with country music��
�Good. Because I do listen to it sometimes, you know.�
�Well, nobody�s perfect.�
Erin�s mouth dropped open at his bold claim and she promptly grabbed the nearest pillow within reach and hurled it at him. He ducked and it flew over his shoulder into the hallway. Straightening, he flashed her a triumphant grin.
�Nice try. But please tell me� how do you like your bloody fucking eggs?�
Erin grunted, thinking for a moment. �Over-easy,� she answered finally. But then a sudden thought occurred to her. �Wait a minute, do you even eat eggs?�
He shook his head. �Nope. Don�t like �em. Even before I was a vegetarian.�
�Then do you even know how to make an over-easy egg?� Erin had visions of egg remains splattered all over her kitchen and grimaced.
Orli contemplated this question for a second, and then shrugged. �I don�t know. But I guess we�ll find out!� he purposed cheerfully, and then he turned to make his way back downstairs.
Erin made a face at his answer and picked up her remaining pillow, throwing it at his back. It made contact with the back of his head and knocked him forward. He spun around to face her, mouth open in disbelief. He recovered shortly, pointing a finger at her accusingly.
�You�d better watch out, Miss Taylor,� he warned. �I�ll have you know I�m a pillow fighting champ, and you wouldn�t want to get me started.�
Erin made no attempt to hide her laugh. �You?� she asked doubtfully. �A pillow fighting champ? Ha ha! I�m willing to bet your sister Samantha kicked your butt all the time!�
Orlando�s eyes narrowed, and he stood for a moment in the hallway before stooping down to pick up the two pillows. He straightened, a mischievous gleam sparking in the dark depths of his gaze. �Is that� a challenge?� he asked cautiously.
Erin thought carefully about her answer. It was only 5:49 in the morning, and there was breakfast to be eaten and things to be gotten ready before she left the house for today�s filming. And yet she found herself almost irresistibly drawn to the thought of whacking Orlando a good one over the head. She cleared her throat and smiled. �Well, Mr. Bloom, I suppose it is a challenge� if you are man enough to take it?�
He tossed her a pillow in answer, and Erin quickly threw back the covers to stand on her bed, holding the soft but deadly weapon in her hands and poised to strike. Orlando grinned at her from the doorway, and then suddenly he lunged forward, pillow high above his head and ready to swing with greatest force.
Erin screamed as he jumped onto the bed with her, but didn�t waste any time on hitting him while he was still trying to catch his balance on the springy mattress. Her first swing made contact with his back and knocked him sprawling flat to his stomach on the bed. He rolled over quickly, but she was already aiming for his head and he had to throw his arms up to protect his face.
Erin tried to maneuver her pillow around his arms, but he�d obviously had much practice with pillow fighting, because he left no openings. Frustrated, she paused her attack just long enough for him to start trying to get up again, and then whaled on him some more. He curled back up into a ball, but then suddenly his hand flashed out and grabbed onto her pillow, yanking it out of her hands.
Erin gasped, staring down at him as he sat up and smiled at her wickedly, bearing both pillows in his hands. �That�s cheating!� Erin exclaimed.
�Is not!� he insisted. �And anyway you never said anything about rules!�
He got to his feet on the mattress but Erin didn�t wait for him to start swinging. She jumped off the bed and fled the room, darting through the hallway and down the stairs. She heard him coming after her and ran into the living room, grabbing two small, square decorative pillows off the couch to defend herself with. She turned to face him just as he slid around the corner into the living room, but he slowed as he noticed her new weapons.
They faced off in the middle of the living room floor, Orlando holding the two bed pillows, Erin clutching the two couch pillows, both giving each other a sly, predator�s smile� a smile that said, in no unclear terms, I�m going to kick your ass.
They circled, each waiting for the other to strike first. The CD in the stereo recycled, starting over again with the first song. Finally Orlando dodged forward, moving with surprising speed, but Erin ducked just in time and the pillow whisked over her head. She took the chance and swung her right couch pillow with all her might, making contact with his side. But he hardly stumbled, answering her blow with one of his own.
The pillow struck Erin on the shoulder and the force of the hit sent her sprawling into the couch. She gaped up at him for a split second before rolling up to avoid the next pillow coming at her. She jumped over the back of the couch and ran into the kitchen, Orlando hot on her heels. Erin leapt around the corner of the doorframe, and just as Orlando entered into the kitchen she dropped her two pillows and grabbed onto one of his.
The force of her pull yanked him around and his socks slid on the linoleum. She heard him mutter a curse, and then he crashed to the floor, one hand still clinging to the pillow Erin was trying to take away from him.
She gave another yank, and as the pillowcase finally came free of his fingers Orli flipped onto his stomach and scrambled to his feet. But it was too late. Erin had already established her attack position and rained down blows upon him without pause. She pinned him against the kitchen counter and he was forced to use his own remaining pillow as a shield for his head.
�Okay okay!� his muffled voice came at last, �I give up! You win! �I said I give up!�
Erin stopped hitting him, lowering her pillow reluctantly, breathing hard. Tentatively he moved his aside, one dark eye peeking out to be sure all was safe before the rest of his face emerged. He shook his head and handed her his pillow with a slight bow.
�I relinquish my title as pillow fighting champ,� he said breathlessly, giving Erin a small smile. �At least� until our next match.�
Erin snorted in amusement. �Anytime, Elf-boy.� She tossed the pillows into the hallway so they�d be out of the way and plopped tiredly into a chair at the kitchen table. �You just tell me when you�re ready to get your ass kicked again and we�ll have a rematch.�
To her surprise Orlando burst out laughing.
She looked to him curiously. �Why are you laughing? I�m being serious!�
He shook his head again, trying to gain control of himself. �It�s just� you,� he finally managed to say. �You just surprise me sometimes, that�s all. I never would have guessed you were such a good pillow fighter.�
Erin squinted at him, wondering what he meant by such a statement. But she didn�t have time to ask him about it; their little game had already eaten away too much of the morning. She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, and then fixed him with an expectant look. �You were saying something about breakfast?� she hinted.
His eyes widened suddenly, as if he just remembered they had things to do today, and he turned to face the stove quickly. �Right,� he muttered. �Eggs and toast okay?�
Erin smiled, thinking she liked having company in the mornings. �That would be a thousand times better than my usual granola bar,� she replied.
�Good,� he said, looking through the cabinets until he found a frying pan. �Coming right up, then.�
Erin sighed and settled back in her chair to wait, noticing with delight that he had also remembered to start the coffee.
*
Erin smiled and shook her head as she glanced in the rear view mirror. Orlando followed her in his car as they both headed down the road to Wellington. She could only see a dim silhouette of his figure in the driver's seat, but she could tell he moved to the beat of some song, and she thought he might even be singing.
She sighed, looking back to the road ahead of her. Erin had allowed Orlando to borrow a few of her CD's, but only on pain of death if he should lose any of them. Still, she wasn't too worried about never getting them back. He was stuck here on this same island with her for at least the next fourteen months... she would make sure he returned them.
The sun had just lifted above the far horizon, shedding a brilliant orange glow over the surrounding hills of green, and Erin suddenly decided she didn't mind filming a rainy scene after all. She was having fun on this project; more fun then she had had on any other project before. The people she worked with were friendly and cooperative, the location was absolutely gorgeous, and her trainee, the esteemed Orlando Bloom, not only genuinely enjoyed the horses, but was a fast learner in the kitchen.
She smiled again at the thought of breakfast that morning. He had completely failed his first five attempts at making an over-easy egg, had partially destroyed the next four, and at last, finally, he had managed to create a fairly good imitation on the last three.
He had apologized profusely for using up her entire dozen of eggs, but Erin assured him his first nine eggs were still edible, and she had put them in a Tupperware container in the fridge for later consumption. The important thing, she had told him, was that he had kept at it until he got it right. He had seemed immensely pleased to hear her say that, and even more pleased to see she scarfed the food most eagerly nearly as soon as he'd set it down in front of her. He had eaten a few pieces of toast himself, and they'd both had a cup of coffee. Then while Erin was getting ready for work, Orlando, being thoughtful, made up the bed he had slept in.
They had left the house at the same time, and now they drove the same road; Erin to go to the barn and ready the horses, and Orlando to his house to get ready for his later call. Erin glanced back at him one more time, remembering their time together at the Maori Festival. She still felt a little guilty for not inviting anyone else to come along, especially since it seemed none of the other guys even knew she and Orli had gone by themselves. But it had been so much fun. More fun than going to The Kanono, more fun than surfing, more fun than breakfast on the beach, more fun than shopping with Dom. In fact, going to the Festival had been the most fun Erin had had since first coming to New Zealand. There had been so much to see and to watch she had nearly been overwhelmed. And the whole time Orlando had been next to her, pointing out details on Maori carvings or reading snippets from a brochure they had picked up. They admired the art, watched dances, and learned about the Maori culture, all the while munching on roasted bananas. It had been, by far, the most interesting event Erin had been to for years. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself, and Orlando had acted the perfect gentlemen for the whole of the evening. She had been suitably impressed by his behavior, and knew that if he were to ask her to go with him to another such Festival; she would not hesitate to say yes.
***
Erin stood huddled under a large blue and white umbrella, wrapped in her coat and standing in nearly ankle deep mud. It was now two hours after nightfall and they were just finishing up the last bit of the �Bree scene�, much to her relief. She was rather wet and her toes and fingers had started to go numb. Technically she stood out of the way of the rain sprinklers, but a slight breeze had kicked up out of the mountains about an hour ago and ever since a fine misty spray had been blown over everything standing on the wrong side of the sprinklers. And that included Erin.
She wanted to sit down, but all the chairs were occupied. And she couldn�t bear to pretend to be miserable enough as to warrant poor soaked Elijah to get up out of the chair he now sat in. Yes, Erin thought, it could always be worse. I could be a hobbit! And she did feel sorry for them, she decided as she surveyed the other three, also soaking wet and also sitting in chairs. They had been out here even longer then she had, and they actually had to stand in the rain� for hours. She could only imagine how cold and heavy those costumes were when wet. Even now all four of the hobbit actors were huddled up to their chins in thick blankets. Erin shook her head, turning back to look at the set just as the rain sprinklers were turned off. A few of the set crew rushed in to add some finishing touches to the scene, and as they retreated Peter yelled, �Roll camera A! �Roll camera B! And� action!� The click of the clapboard was loud in the sudden silence.
Her Nazg�l horses were sent into motion, galloping from afar toward the loosened wooden gate of Bree. They had run this several times already, but it was always wise to get more shots than thought necessary. Still, Erin found herself physically tensing as the horses approached the gate. The gate had only stuck once, and no one had been hurt, but every time this stunt was done the chances for injury increased. She held her breath.
The trick horse, named Zorro, led the Black Riders, and as he neared the gate he expertly slowed his gallop, lowered on his haunches, and struck the wood panel with his front feet, neatly knocking it to the ground without breaking his stride. He ran over it, followed by the rest of the Nazg�l horses, and Erin let out her breath explosively. She glanced to Peter and saw him nodding approval.
She was about to turn back to watch the horses circle around again when another figure caught in her peripheral vision. She turned to look more closely and realized it was Orlando, sneaking in quietly behind the crew, two steaming Styrofoam cups in his hands. He saw her watching him and smiled, but he stopped a good ten feet away from her, eyeing Peter Jackson and the cameras warily.
�And cut!� Peter called suddenly. �I think we've got it guys. Thanks.�
At once a buzz of talk began and the people who had been standing around still as statues moved and stretched gratefully. �Great job, everyone,� Peter said as he stood from his comfy but damp orange armchair. �I�ll see most of you tomorrow, then.�
Erin sighed in relief and relaxed her rigid stance, picking her way gingerly through the mud to meet Orli half way. �What are you doing here?� she asked, eyeing the hot beverages in his hands suspiciously.
�Bringing you coffee,� he answered cheerfully, handing her one of the cups carefully. �Two bits sugar and one bit cream,� he said, giving her a proud look.
Erin lifted one eyebrow, staring at him curiously as she took the large cup of coffee and pressed her cold fingers to its warm sides gratefully. �How did you-�
�I watched you this morning at breakfast,� he told her, answering her questions before she even had a chance to finish asking it. �I thought you might be cold and miserable, and as I was just sitting around my warm, dry house-�
�Yo! Orli!�
Erin and Orlando both turned to see Elijah jogging toward them, still clutching his blanket around his shoulders. Dom and Billy followed closely behind, struggling to hold their blankets in place and yet keep their balance in the slippery mud.
Elijah glanced to Erin�s coffee, which she held protectively close to her chest, and then fixed his large blue eyes on Orlando and made such a pathetic face a begging puppy would have been ashamed. �Dude� that�s cruel,� he whined. �Didn�t you bring anything for us poor, bedraggled, soaked hobbits?�
Orlando grunted, holding the cup in his hand out to Elijah. �In fact I did, fuzzy feet. This is yours, and I�ve got more in the car. But it�s ladies served first, gents, you know that.�
Elijah grabbed the coffee from Orli�s outstretched hand and Billy and Dom raced to the car, scrabbling to open the car door to get at the remaining cups of coffee still occupying the vehicle�s cup holders.
Erin watched the two men with amusement, taking a cautious sip of her own beverage and sighing happily as the warmth of it started to bring her limbs back to life. Maybe January was New Zealand summer, but when that sun went down and the wind came in� and you were wet� it was still uncomfortably chilly. �So�� she said to Orlando at last, �you�ve now become the coffee-boy as well the Elf-boy, eh?�
He shrugged. �It appears so.�
�And a damn good one too,� Elijah muttered, sipping eagerly at his drink.
�Yah well don�t think I won�t expect the same thing of you fellows when I�m busy filming late into the night. You just remember this.�
�I hate to burst your bubble, mate,� Dom spoke up, coming back from the car with his coffee, �but I think when you�re out filming late the rest of us will be too. Poor you. There�ll be no one left to come bring you coffee when you�re wet and cold and tired!� He grinned over the rim of his cup and took a drink.
Orlando crossed his arms. �I don�t know� I seem to recall reading over a few scenes that didn�t request the presence of you or Billy. Just you watch� you�ll be the next coffee-fetcher!�
�Did I hear someone say coffee?� a voice asked, and the group turned to see Viggo Mortensen approaching them. He came to stand with them and surveyed the happy faces and steaming cups. Then, without a word, he looked to Orlando.
Orli�s mouth dropped open at the expectant look and he threw his hands into the air helplessly. �Oh for the love of it,� he scowled. �All you bloody lazy actors�� He went to the car to retrieve the last cup of coffee, walking carefully with it to where Viggo stood, then handing it over to the older man.
Viggo took it with a nod of thanks, and there was a long moment of silence as the friends stood around in a circle, listening to the sounds of the crew packing up equipment, simply enjoying being able to relax and have their warming drinks.
�It�s good,� Viggo said suddenly into the relative quiet. �Looks like you can do something useful after all, Elf-boy. I�m impressed.�
Orlando snorted at the comment but chose not to answer. "So which pub shall we grace with our presence tonight?" he asked jovially.
Dom shrugged, looking to Erin. "Miss Taylor?" he prodded. "What would be your pick?"
Erin blinked, lowering her coffee. "Me?" she asked, feeling a clutch of panic as all eyes turned to her. "What do you mean? I'm not going!"
"Of course you are," Orlando told her, and the others all nodded their agreement. "If you're going to be brought coffee on the set you've got to join us in our nightly outings."
Erin stepped away from him, eyeing him in disbelief. "I didn't ask you to bring me coffee!" she protested. "And besides, we're filming tomorrow... it's already ten at night... I'm tired..."
A silence followed her argument, but the eyes kept staring at her. Four blue pairs and one very dark brown pair, all waiting and watching expectantly.
"No," she reiterated, more strongly. "I am not going. Read my lips. Me... Erin Taylor... not going."
"Come on, Erin," Dom chimed in. "We need someone to keep us honest... didn't you have fun last time?"
"Well... yes... but... then I also had to drive someone home afterwards!" She shot an accusing look to Orli and he looked away quickly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.
"No heavy drinking this time," Billy spoke up. "We promise. Just good, wholesome, pub-hopping fun."
Erin looked around at each of them, doubtful enough about their promises and yet feeling slightly tempted to take them up on their offer. At last she sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. But I'm cold right now and I want to get out of these wet clothes. Let me go home for awhile first... call me later, okay?"
"Well... okay," Dom finally relented. "But please come. We'd really like to have you."
Erin smiled gratefully at the hobbit-dressed, blanket-clad man and began to make her way toward where the Nazg�l horses stood waiting to be unsaddled and loaded into the trailer. If she didn't leave now they would convince her to go, and she already had a very long night ahead of her. "Well, I'll think about it," she said. "But thanks for the offer, guys. If I don't see you later tonight I'll see you tomorrow! Oh, and thanks for the coffee, Orlando."
She squeezed his arm briefly, then moved off slowly through the mud.
"We'll pick you up at midnight!" Billy called out after her, and Erin rolled her eyes, shaking her head and waving over her shoulder without looking back.
"Night, boys!" she said, and refused to acknowledge them any farther. She couldn't go out with them tonight... she had work to do. They would just have to realize that.
Erin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping they wouldn't actually come out to pick her up. If they did, she wouldn't be able to refuse them�. She wondered if they knew that.
***
she said to me, condescendingly,
"take a seat, take your life,
plot it out in black and white,"
well I never lived the dreams of the prom kings
and the drama queens
I'd like to think the best of me
is still hiding up my sleeve,
they love to tell you "stay inside the lines,"
but something's better on the other side.
---�No Such Thing� by John Mayer