"Dammit, Viggo, I am not going in there!" Orlando declared emphatically, marking the last word with a sharp finger-pointto the deserted mansion at the end of the street. He assumed the face and posture of petulance, turning his back to Viggo.

Viggo sighed, exasperated. He really wanted to take the dare and enter the ominous house. Sean's insistence that it was haunted had excited the inquisitive kid within him. Apparently it was activating the terrified child within Orlando.

"But baby…" Viggo whined, wrapping Orlando is his arms from behind and snuggling into his neck, "I really want to go inside. It could be lots of fun," he insisted, rubbing his groin temptingly on Orlando's backside.

Orlando ignored the ploy. "Oh no. I don't even go into funhouses in amusement parks because I don't like to be scared. I don't like surprises of that sort, Viggo."

Viggo rolled his eyes. This wasn't going to be easy. "This from the man who sat and watched the whole 'Alien' series in one night?"

Orlando turned slightly in Viggo's arms. "C'mon Vig, you know as well as I do that the first one was the only one that was really scary. After that they were pretty predictable. And I won't even go into how hard I laughed at 'Resurrection'."

Viggo resigned, dropping his hands from Orlando and walking back towards their car.

Orlando's heart sank seeing the downcast face of his lover. It couldn't really be that bad, could it? Just a musty old house, some cobwebs, broken windows… before he traveled any further down his list of 'scary things to avoid', he relented.

"Okay Vig." Viggo continued walking while pretending not to hear, picking up a penny off the curb. "Viggo? Did you hear me? I said I'll go in the house." A chill traveled over his body after the words left his mouth. He was going to regret this, he just knew it.

Viggo turned around, rushed back to his lover and swept him into his arms, planting kisses all over Orlando's face and neck. "Thank you thank you thank you!" Viggo cried in between kisses.

"All right, enough already. Turn it down a notch babe," Orlando giggled as he tried to wiggle away from the assault, but enjoying it immensely.

Viggo took Orlando's hand, all but dragging him back to the car. "We need to hurry, love. It's going to be dark soon and I want to get the supplies unloaded."

Orlando stopped mid-stride, jerking his hand away from Viggo's. "What? You came prepared?" he cried indignantly.

Viggo had the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Sorry baby, I kinda hoped, ya know?" he admitted with a shrug. When Orlando didn't respond Viggo took it as acceptance and began removing items from the trunk.

Viggo had the backpack loaded up in a matter of minutes without any help from Orlando, who stood on the curb with a look of complete incredulity on his face. Viggo shut the trunk and looked up, catching Orlando's stare. "What?"

"I can't believe you came prepared." What he really couldn't believe was that he wasn't going to get another chance to back out of this by getting Viggo home and losing track of time in bed. He was obligated to go into the house now. DAMN! he cursed mentally.

Viggo grinned, practically reading Orlando's thoughts as he wrapped his free arm around him. "Come on, Mr. Chicken. I'll keep the ghosties away."

As they reached the gate at the end of the drive Orlando got a case of nerves and balked when Viggo pushed open the screechy metal. Viggo went through the gate and beckoned with his finger. Taking a deep breath, Orlando walked under the metal arch and through the gate.

He knew he was being foolish. There were no such things as ghosts and goblins. Now if only he could get his stomach to believe it, he'd be all set. Orlando looked up at Viggo, who was mounting the half dozen steps to the front door. The boards creaked with an eerie groan beneath Viggo's cowboy boots as he crossed the porch.

Adrenaline flowed freely through Orlando's veins now as he tried to climb the steps. He hadn't even gone inside the house yet and he was already determining the quickest route of retreat.

Viggo reached the front door and peered in through the large dirty window. Trying the knob, the door opened with a loud, wheezy screech as he pushed it in. All people had them, and this was it for Viggo - his 'thing'. His gizzy-switch, as his mother called it. He loved to explore. Orlando enjoyed exploring as much as anyone, just not in creepy, supposedly-haunted houses.

Gritting his teeth, he walked up the remaining stairs and crossed the porch. He couldn't see Viggo inside from where he was standing. "Vig?" he whispered. Orlando's heart stopped when an owl hooted a greeting in a tree somewhere nearby."Viggo?" he whispered louder this time, anxiously awaiting an answer.

"What?" Viggo replied, his face directly in the doorway, eliciting a shriek of fright from Orlando at his unexpected appearance. "Get in here, Orli." Viggo commanded, grabbing the front of Orlando's shirt and dragging him inside.

The dust on the floor now hung in the air, disturbed from its slumber at their haphazard entry. Orlando coughed, futilely waving the dust from in front of his face. Gazing around the room using the moonlight coming in the windows as a guide, they could see large white shapes scattered about.

"Must not have wanted to carry their furniture with them, yeah?" Orlando said, more to disrupt the heavy quiet of the house than expecting a reply. A small click was heard and then the beam of a flashlight pointed towards the Brit.

"You want one?" Viggo asked, knowing the answer beforehand.

"What do you think?" Orlando said sarcastically as Viggo held the extra light out for him to take.

"C'mon, babe, let's check out the upstairs." Viggo motioned off to the right with his light and Orlando saw what at one time would have been a grand and glorious staircase; it desperately needed cleaning, polishing, and maintenance. Following Viggo like a shadow, they made their way to the stairs and proceeded up.

The creaking wasn't nearly as loud on these stairs, Orlando noted gratefully. Though he wasn't happy about letting the front door out of his sight, his curiosity got the better of him and soon he was following along without paying much attention to where Viggo was leading. He saw the hallway branch off to the right and shined his light in that direction. Dark shadows appeared to hang in the air far in the distance, causing the hair on the back of his neck to prickle.

There's nothing there, he told himself. Don't be a candy-ass. Taking a deep breath he crept slowly down the hallway, shining his light on old portraits covering the rich, red-velvet walls. He'd not seen wall covering like this in a long time - at least not in places this old.

He felt a draft and turned in its direction: a heavy wooden door on his left. Reaching his hand out he grasped the knob and turned. He was about to push it open when he felt something rub against his calf. A squeak of fear was caught in his throat. He didn't want to look down, but it was still there, pressed against his leg, and if he moved he would surely piss it off, resulting in the loss of said limb.

Grabbing his fleeing courage, he shined the light to his leg and saw... a huge black panther! Oh wait, it was just a large black cat, with green eyes and long, sharp fangs. Fuck, Orlando, get a hold of yourself! It's a fucking cat already. Unsure of where he found his voice, he called to it and was rewarded with a low growl.

"Oh, I see how it is. You rub up against me, and I get growled at when I want to show affection. Go find Viggo, you're more his type."

As if the cat had understood every word, it trotted off with its tail high in the air, unconcerned with the person it left behind. Orlando gave a tittered laugh and turned back to the door. His adrenaline rush already abating from the incident with the cat, he didn't pause before he pushed it open and walked right in.

The room was huge, cast in deep shadows and glowing moonlight flowing in from the large windows on the far wall. Grand furnishings, again draped in sheets, clustered here and there to give the room a feeling of abandonment. As if the last person who'd lived here couldn't take anything with them but couldn't bear to get rid of their possessions.

"They must have died," Orlando whispered, and the slam of the heavy door several feet behind him caused him to panic. Dashing to the door, he tugged on the knob with all his might but it wouldn't budge. His flight instinct was at maximum, but there was nowhere to run. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans he tried the knob again, but it was no use - he was stuck in there.

"Best make the most of my time in here then," he said, the sound of his own voice soothing his frazzled nerves. Right about now he was ready to kick Viggo's ass for even thinking of bringing him in here. There were going to be consequences when he finally got out of this room. He had a fleeting thought that Viggo might never come looking around this side of the mansion, but he tried to reassure himself that his dashing Danish lover would rescue him eventually. All in all, he felt he was behaving very levelheadedly for himself.

Taking comfort in the fact that there was plenty of moonlight to see by, he turned the flashlight off to save the batteries and began exploring the contents of the room, slipping the wand into his back pocket. When lifted, the first sheet revealed an upright piano. Orlando fingered the keys tenderly until one digit slipped and thunked a terribly out of tune note. Replacing the sheet he went on to the next item, this one a large cedar chest. Upon opening it he discovered women's dresses. Ball gowns from the looks of them; ornately embroidered taffeta with lace sleeves in a variety of colors.

"These must be very old." No one wore clothing like that anymore. It was a shame really.

Closing the lid on that treasure, he went to what appeared to be an armoire or schrank. He'd tossed back the sheet and was just cracking the doors when he felt the draftiness return. Shivering, the goose flesh rising on his arms once more, he turned and saw a figure standing just outside of the moonlight's reach.

A feminine arm reached out, pale and ghastly, her mottled face partially concealed by a wedding veil. Her dress was grayed by the ravages of time or the chance escape from her grave. The hand beckoned him closer as a chilling moan escaped from what remained of her lips.

Thoughts of self preservation filled him and Orlando jerked back, flinging open the doors on the schrank completely. He only had time to register a heavy weight falling into him before he screamed and ran in a blind panic to the door, which this time opened easily.

"Viggo!"It was dark in the hallway and he couldn't see two feet in front of himself, but he knew he and Viggo hadn't parted too far from the main staircase.

Trusting in all gods and prayers and running his hand along the wall as a guide, he made his way quickly back to the main staircase.

"Viggo!!" There was no answer. "Viggo, where the fuck are you?" He cast a quick glance back down the hall he'd come from and saw shimmering light coming from the doorway. "Holy fuck! Viggo!!"

Down the stairs like lightning he went, tripping once but catching himself before he could tumble. Never mind the creaking boards, Viggo was MIA and he had a ghost chasing him. He hated haunted houses, and he hated being scared. Scared? Fuck it, he was a terrified wuss with his tail tucked firmly between his legs and once he reached the bottom of these endless stairs (had there been this many when they'd climbed them?) he was going to be out that door and into fresh air.

Or so he thought.

His feet hit the floor and two steps into the room he was grabbed from behind. A bloodcurdling scream filled the cavernous room.

"Orlando! It's me! Viggo!" Spinning the younger man around, Viggo grabbed his face between his hands and forced the frightened, wide brown eyes to look at him.

"V-Viggo? Viggo! We have to get out of here!" Orlando clutched Viggo's fingers from his face in a death grip and pulled the older man towards the front door.

"Orlando, what are you so hyped up about? What spooked you?"

Orlando kept tugging at Viggo's hands. "Spooked? Ha! Not spooked. SCARED SHITLESS! There's a fucking ghost up there Viggo, and she's following me!" Orlando's pitch rose higher and higher until on the last word his voice cracked.

Viggo made soothing noises and pulled his lover in to his body, freeing a hand to rub the tense muscles along his spine. "It's okay Orli. There's no one here. The house is empty."

"The hell it is!" Orlando declared, his eyes locking assertively with Viggo's. "And then something fell out of this armoire onto me after she came at me and I'm sure it's going to be coming right behind her down those stairs as well!"

Viggo could feel Orlando's pulse hammering through their clasped hands. He had to calm the young man down before he had a coronary. "I didn't see anything -or anyone -while I was meandering around. Did find some cool paintings though and a library full of old books." His thoughts turned inward and he mumbled, "Those would bear investigating further."

"Fine! You can come back and investigate them in full daylight, but I am not staying in here another second more." Jerking his hands away from his lover's, Orlando strode resolutely to the door. "And another thing," he began, turning around so he could see Viggo's expression, his finger up in the air to make a point of the statement "You're not ge-"

Viggo watched as all color drained from Orlando's face, his mouth falling open in a vain attempt to scream, and the finger stretched out to point above his head at the stairs behind him. Viggo turned, fear creeping along his spine as the 'ghost' Orlando had seen earlier now motioned to the artist.

"Holy shit!" Viggo shouted, snatching his pack from the floor and grabbing Orlando's arm, all but dragging him out the door.

Survival instincts kicked in and he beat Viggo down the short drive and through the gate, huffing and puffing as he waited for his lover to arrive. Shit, he had to quit smoking... his lungs were on fire. When Viggo wasn't right behind him, Orlando worried. "Vig?" he called out hesitantly.

"Orlando?" he heard, and then lower a muttered 'fuck'.

"C'mon Vig, hurry up already," he shouted a bit louder, his courage returning since he was back in civilization's midst.

"Orlando, you've got to come back. I've twisted my ankle on a damn rock and I can't get up by myself, much less carry this stupid pack."

Was he serious? Go back in there? Well if he was, he couldn't just stand out here chicken shit all night and let whatever was in that house get his mate. "Bullocks! I hate this shit!" Still having his qualms about the whole thing, he made up his mind to rescue Viggo, chanting the whole way, "I hate this shit... I hate this shit...." Loyalty brought him to the gate where he could see Viggo sitting on the ground not too far down the drive.

Viggo looked up when he heard the gate creak and smiled, clearly embarrassed at his next words. "Thought you were going to leave me here."

"No, old man, I've come to carry your ass out of this haunted shithole." Looking around, Orlando inquired, "So where's the rock?"

Viggo motioned back towards to the house. "Somewhere back there. Didn't see it sticking up from the ground while I was looking over my shoulder." He chuckled, feeling very childish at his behavior.

The moon went behind a cloud as Orlando helped Viggo from the ground and tossed the pack over his other shoulder. Sounds of banging, moaning and shrieking were heard from within the house, as if the spirits therein were angry at being left alone once more. Both men looked back over their joined arms in time to see the woman's ghostly form coming out of the open front door.

"Jesus, Vig, you've gotta hobble fast, mate!" Both men began a lurching sprint much reminiscent of a potato sack race to get outside the gate.

A maniacal cackle followed them, and then the sound of men's laughter. Orlando hadn't heard the change in timbre, but Viggo did and he pulled up short, nearly tumbling the frightened man into the gravel. "What the fuck, Vig?"

"I think you should see this," Viggo said, looking back in the direction of the house while reaching out to pull Orlando into better viewing position.

Orlando heard the laughter now. Two - no, three - male voices raised in side-splitting laughter. "What the-" and then he saw them. The 'woman' wasn't actually a woman. She was joined by two accomplices who flanked either side. One was dressed like an ogre, the other was instantly recognizable.

Orlando's jaw dropped as he glanced at Viggo, who didn't appear to be in on the prank, but was much humiliated to be included in it as well. Orlando looked back at the trio on the porch. He heard Viggo utter the word 'bastards' before he started to limp back to the house. Orlando caught him under the arm for assistance, giving the three men in front of them a menacing glare.

The 'woman' pulled off the wig and stripped off the latex molded onto her face. 'She' instantly became a 'he'. "Dom? You fucktard!" Orlando hollered, his irritation overriding any humor of the situation. "You," he said, looking angrily to the figure on Dom's right, "You I would expect this of, Sean Bean!"

The ogre took Orlando's distraction with the other two to pull his mask off, though it was difficult to do while laughing. He was nearly afraid he'd suffocate in the thing - which might have pleased Orlando with the look he received when flabbergasted brown eyes looked his direction.

"Lij?" Orlando released Viggo's arm, his hands propping on his waist in a perturbed manner. "You bitches! You fucking wankers! I could have killed myself in that hall, or coming down those stairs, or - or anything!"

Orlando was so high strung from the escapade he was nearly vibrating. Viggo reached out to his seething mate, trying to calm him. When Orlando's gaze turned to him instead of the others, he winced.

"Did you know?"

"No, baby, I didn't know." Viggo hoped the honesty of his statement was coming through loud and clear. The throbbing in his ankle definitely was. "I wouldn't go to the lengths of injuring myself for a prank." His head turned back to the three men, who thankfully had enough grace to look remorseful for what they'd done. "And you three will be getting the doctor bill for this minor setback.

Tenderhearted Lij was first to speak. "Sorry Viggo. Never meant for anyone to get hurt. Orli? Since technically I didn't spook you, can you forgive me?"

Orlando glowered at the young man, but the merciful pleading in the stark blue eyes lightened his heart. "Where were you, Lij?"

"In the kitchen. I was supposed to grab whoever made it in there, but no one made it that far."

Orlando looked at Sean, "And you? What was your role?"

Sean grinned, the impish twinkle returning to his green gaze. "Who d'ya think held the door shut?"

Orlando only nodded, relief suddenly flooding his senses. He looked at Dom in the frayed dress and began to laugh. "You're a bunch of bloody tossers. I swear I'll get you all back for this." His smile threw the weight off his words, however, and the men exhaled their own laughter at the forgiveness they'd been bestowed.

Sean took up under Viggo's other arm and Lij took the pack from Orlando. A wind gusted up from nowhere and Orlando shivered, casting a glance back at the house. His blood froze in his veins as three pairs of demon-red eyes glared out from the open front door.

"Time to go!" Orlando shouted, and was quickly followed by the others who had taken a moment to see what had caught his attention.

Once safely back at their vehicles, all five men decided it was better to forget tonight ever happened; but the ghosts at Larkspur Lane remember, and they hope they will return to play again....