Viggo reluctantly flipped his journal closed, leaving his place marked with a pen. He hadn't immediately answered the buzzer from the front gate because he had been hoping whoever it was would just go away. Six buzzes later, he gave up; better to just deal with whoever it was and then get back to his writing than be plagued by the constant annoying noise.

Pushing the button on the wall by the front door, he asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Johnny, mate. Open the bloody door before I go away and take my rum with me."

Viggo laughed, simultaneously pushing the button to open the outside gate and admit the pirate.

The front door was open, light from the interior framing Viggo's slender frame in the dimming evening light as Johnny came up the front walk. "Some welcome," Johnny scoffed.

Viggo pulled him into a tight hug, planting a quick but honest kiss on his lips. "Sorry, I was… well my mind was somewhere else."

Walking into the house, Johnny swung the brown bag that Viggo assumed contained the alcohol. "Crazy artists. You even remember to eat today?" He remembered horror stories from Orlando, describing how Viggo would go for days without eating when a really creative burst would hit him.

"Yeah. In fact, I've got a pot of chili on the stove if you're hungry."

"Might take you up on that. But first things first." He pulled a bottle from the bag with a flourish reminiscent of Jack Sparrow. "Rum. Got any glasses or shall we do this the pirates way."

Viggo laughed. "I think I can scare up one or two clean glasses." The two men settled in at the kitchen table to catch up, Viggo's journal forgotten.

~~~~~

Four hours and most of a bottle of rum later, Viggo slumped in a lawn chair on the back deck, moon shadows dappling his face. "So why are you really here?" he asked quietly.

Johnny continued to stare at the reflection of the moon in the pool. He shrugged casually. "I was worried about you."

After waiting for several minutes, Viggo realized he wasn't going to elaborate. He sometimes forgot that even though Johnny was Orlando's friend, his personality was more like Viggo's; he wasn't going to use ten words when two would do. "Why?"

"I saw Orlando in Geneva."

Viggo nodded even though he knew Johnny wasn't looking at him. "It's okay."

Silence fell again as the two men watched a leaf fall into the water, breaking the glasslike surface and sending the moonbeams swirling.

"How long are you going to put up with this?" Johnny asked, knowing he was stepping way over his boundaries. Orlando was his friend, but he had come to really care for Viggo and knew that the younger man flitting in and out of his life had to hurt. He also felt Viggo wasn't doing Orlando any favors by always being there. Sometimes it took getting dropped on your ass to grow up.

"I guess until he figures it out."

"Would it offend you to know I think you're fuckin' nuts?" Johnny asked with a derisive snort.

"No, not particularly."

Johnny turned, catching sight of Viggo's smile in the shadows. His breath caught momentarily at the charge of electricity he felt. "Maybe Orlando is the one who's nuts," he muttered more to himself than his companion.

"Maybe you are having this conversation with the wrong person?" Viggo suggested.

"Oh believe me, I've bloody well tried having this conversation with the whelp. He's got a harder head than Vanessa and that's saying something."

"Look, Johnny, I appreciate the concern, the rum and the company, but I'm not sitting around broken-hearted waiting for him to knock on my door. I'm busy. I care about what I'm doing. When he comes back, he doesn't do it with promises of hearts and forever. He's usually exhausted and broken. He hides out for a few days or weeks, recharges, and goes back out into the world he's created. I know when he walks in the door that he'll be walking back out. Just like he knows that someday he may knock and I won't be waiting to answer."

Johnny stared at the other man thoughtfully, slowly nodding his head. "Okay. Know that if you ever get fed up, I'm on your side," he offered.

"Yeah, Beanie tells me that regularly. He's also promised to beat him up for me. I seem to attract knights on white chargers."

"It's 'cause your too bloody giving for your own good," Johnny said, again more to himself.

"Wanna crash here for the night? Or should I call you a cab?" Viggo asked, reaching for the glasses.

"I'll stick around if it's okay with you. Last thing I need is paparazzi photos of me going back to the hotel drunk. Vanessa would have my hide."

Viggo chuckled. "She'd rather have you spend the night with strange men?"

Johnny joined him in laughter, slinging a companionable arm around his shoulder. "Yeah, she would."

~~~~~

Johnny stumbled into the kitchen in search of water. His mouth felt like the hold of a ship after a six month voyage. Filling a glass from the tap, he emptied it twice before sitting at the table with it refilled.

Absentmindedly, he flipped open the book lying in front of him.

I feel the bond stretch thin
Not breaking but straining
With each pull it weakens

I wonder will this pull be the one
That will snap back
And bloody my fingers

And yet my hand reaches forward
Disregarding the potential for pain
Wanting only to hold you



Gently shutting the book, he rubbed at the cover, wondering if Sean would like some help beating some sense into Orlando.