A/N: this is more or less a transitional chapter, to have more background on Orli 'grin' and also a wee bit on Bronwyn. I hope you like it as I want to do this a bit more realistically than the usual Orli meets girl, fall in love, have great sex, happily ever after- Mary Sue. Bronwyn is not your regular girl, she has a lot of skeletons in her cupboard, and yes sometime in later chapters, it will be revealed what exactly happened with the accident and why she faced a murder trial, it will be all pieced together ;-)

Chapter Three - Caradhàic - Friends

Samantha Bloom was cooking in the small kitchenette when she heard the key in the lock of the front door. Looking over her shoulder she saw her brother stumbling into the small space that separated the kitchenette from the living room.

"Hi, bro," she greeted him cheerfully and commenced her cooking.

"Hi SamSam," Orli said and threw the keys onto the small table by the door. Shrugging out of his leather jacket and throwing it over the arm of a chair he strolled over to his sister, leaning against the door way.

"I made so much risotto that I'm thinking about inviting Bronwyn over, would you mind?" Sam said, busying herself with the rice and the freshly cut vegetables. She did not see the frown on her brother's face.

"Sure, Sam, but I doubt she will come over. She has a date, and lied to me about it," Orlando replied and Sam turned to face him at his sarcastic tone.

Ignoring the dripping spoon in her hand she frowned as she watched her brother. "What happened, Orlando?"

"What do you mean?" Orli asked, feigning ignorance although knowing that he had to be careful when Samantha used his full name. She was like their mother, using his name to their full advantage when need be.

"Come on, Orlando, don't play with me. I know you and Bronwyn work at the theatre, so what happened?"

Orlando shrugged his shoulder. "I offered her to give her a lift, she declined ..."

"So?" Sam asked. When her brother did not reply, she had to fight hard to hide her grin. 'Orli is pissed off because Bronwyn didn't come swooning and cooing,' she thought and her lips twitched. "Did she ignore your whole Here comes Orlando Bloom, movie star routine?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Sam?" Orlando asked and pushed himself off the wall to turn back into the living room.

"No you won't," Sam spat and hurried after him. "You know exactly what I mean! The stunt you always pull when there are pretty girls around, the stunt that says, I'm hot, I can have anyone, I'm Mr Big Hollywood Movie Heart-throb."

Orlando stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his sister wide eyed.

"What?" he croaked in disbelief. 'Did Sam really think about me this way? And more important, do I really act like this?' he asked himself silently.

"Oh come on, Orli, you know you do that kind of shit. It bugs the hell out of me when you do that. But those dimwits you seem to date are all falling for it and it makes you arrogant."

Now Orlando was really shocked. He was used to his sister cutting him down to size but this was the first time she did so ever since he had come back from New Zealand almost three years ago.

"What do you mean?" he inquired hoarsely.

"Don't play dumb with me, Orlando. I've seen the numerous articles and gossip columns myself. I can't believe that you really have changed that much. All those girls that you all of a sudden get into the sack with must have damaged you. That is not you. What happened to my smart little brother who believed in love eternal and monogamy?" Sam asked and when she tried to cross her arms over her chest she noticed the still dripping cooking spoon in her hand. "Shit!" she moved quickly back into the kitchen, closely followed by Orlando.

"I grew up!" Orlando snarled at her back, then he shook his head. He knew Samantha was right. But after Joanne had left him during the shooting of Lord of the Rings and his crash and burn with Jemma he had lost all faith in women. They all wanted a piece of him and if they were willing to have a piece of him inside them, then so be it. But for the last couple of months he had grown weary of the whole thing. He was turning 27 soon, had a couple of blockbuster movies under his belt and a long string of one-night stands with blondes whose one accomplishment under their belts was how to do French, and he was not talking about any language degrees.

With a sigh he rubbed his neck with a weary hand and followed his sister back to the kitchen. Sam was silently stirring the risotto in the pan, but the way she moved, he could tell she was still pissed off.

"Sam ..." Orli genuinely felt at a loss and squeezed his eyes shut.

"It's okay," Samantha said, furtive eyes glancing up at him. "You are grown up, I can see that."

"Sam, that's not ..."

"No, it's alright," Samantha cut in and looked at him wearily. "But do me a favour, Orli, and I mean it," she said seriously, pointing the spoon at him. "Don't mess with my friends, and Bronwyn is a friend. We might not be close mates but she is my neighbour and I like her a lot. When you are back in LA, I will still live with her door to door and if you pull anything stupid I won't side with you."

Orlando stared at his sibling for long moments before he nodded his head silently. They had this kind of conversation before but that had been a long time ago when he had still lived at home as an acne-ridden teenager full of dreams about acting. He had kept his hands off her friends ever since, keeping to the silent agreement.

"I won't do anything stupid, Samantha, you can count on me," he said. Samantha nodded to that and resumed her cooking.

"I know ..." she replied slowly.

Orlando was at a loss. Somehow he felt stupid to be telling his sister, no, promising his sister to keep his hands off her neighbour. Bronwyn McKinnon was a work colleague, and not even his type. - Or was she? Watching his sister for a short moment, he walked over to the window and stared out into the wintry London night.

It had been several minutes when he noticed a familiar looking figure limping towards the door of the house and when he looked closer, he saw it was Bronwyn. The start that seemed to course through him at her sight surprised him, and he shook his head and strolled back into the living room, browsing through the collection of CDs that Samantha had, he grimaced when he found anything from Bolton to Madonna. With a sigh he walked over to the small plastic crate with his CDs and after he had gotten out his favourite soundtrack, he popped the CD into the stereo and stood by the window, waiting for the music to start while he stared out onto the street but Bronwyn was gone.

He started when Sam's hand came around his waist and she held a lighted cigarette out to him.

"Thanks," he whispered and took a long drag from the cigarette while he hugged his sister close.

Samantha watched him from hooded lids. She knew he had changed over the last couple of years. One movie had led to another, he had moved from one big movie to the next, but she had the feeling that Orlando was tired of it all. She had not been as surprised as his agent and some other people when he had announced he was coming home to do a play here in London.

While her eyes roamed over his tired face, she detected faint worry lines that weren't there the last time when she had visited him a year ago in LA. It made his face appear older, more mature, and she wondered how he would look ten years from now and if he would still be cast as the young heart throb instead of the character actor he was. With a sigh she put her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes for a few moments. She listened to his breathing, like she had done when they had been younger. When a young Orli had held his sister close while she had been bawling her eyes out because Gerald Stevenson from school had told her she looked like a witch. Remembering that Orlando had gone out the next day and had taken on the three year older boy and had given him a black eye.

Samantha had to smile at that, he had always been more of an older than a younger brother to her.

"Sam?" Orlando's voice brought her back to the present and she watched him intently.

"Do you think that Bronwyn shares your opinion of me?"

"That you are an annoying little brother?" Sam asked with laughter in her voice.

"No," Orlando shook his head and finished off his cigarette which he stubbed out in a nearby ashtray. He sat on the window sill, then drew Samantha nearer and held her hands. "Were you serious, just now? About that I have changed?"

Samantha looked down into his brown eyes that were so similar to her own. "Orli, everyone changes, you too," Samantha started but stopped when Orlando raked his hands through his dark curls.

"I know that ... but ... but sometimes I think that I've changed for the worse, Sam." He stood up and paced the length of the living room, fumbling with the packet of cigarettes he found on the coffee table. "Sometimes I think LA is like Moloch, like a snare that entraps you and won't let you go until it has devoured you. At first, I was thrilled, I went to every party, drank hard and partied even harder," he looked up to meet his sister's eyes. "And you are right I screwed almost every dumb blonde in LA, and it didn't mean a thing ... I ... don't even remember their names or how they looked like. Everyone just told me how lucky I was, that I was such a ladies' man. And how great it was to have starred in so many great movies, but I don't feel this way. The last three movies I did ... Sam, I got the parts not because I auditioned but because either the producers or the director wanted my face in it."

Dragging his hands through his hair again he rubbed his neck. "Sometimes I think they all want me for my pretty face and not because I'm a serious actor. Even the girls ... I mean they never even attempt to get to know me. They see my face and bingo, all they want to do is getting the man who played the pretty Elf into the sack. When Sean phoned and told me he is doing this play I thought it was a chance. I came here to get away from all this and now I'm not sure if I did the right thing. If I'm an actor and all..."

"Oh, Orli," Sam came over and hugged him fiercely. "Of course you are an actor. You know that and I know that. Do you really think you would have graduated with straight As if you hadn't got what it takes to be an actor?" She searched his face intently. "Or that Peter Jackson would have chosen you to be Legolas if he hadn't seen the potential?"

Orlando shrugged. "I don't know anymore, Sammy. Every time I get recognised I see it in their faces, they see Orlando Bloom, the one who played the Elf, the man who is pretty enough to have women spread their legs before I can even introduce myself. I'm so sick of it all, Sam. I just don't want that anymore, and even if I say no, they just ignore it and ..." Orlando blushed, remembering the last time he had encountered a so-called fan in a club in LA. She had chatted him up and before he knew what was happening in his drunken haze, she had knelt in front of him in a dark back alley and was working a blow job on him. It had disturbed and appalled him.

He sat down in one of the chairs, burying his head in his hands.

"So you had your fair share of cunts, no big deal," Sam said matter of factly, and Orlando's head jerked up, throwing her an incredulous look.

"What?!" Sam asked and had to grin at the shocked expression on her brother's face.

"Lord, you just sounded like Viggo," Orlando replied and shook his head with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't move in here with you to heap all this shit on you."

Samantha smiled at that and put a hand against his cheek. "You know, Orli, that was the first time in about three years that we talked. I mean seriously talked."

"I'm sorry, Samantha," Orli breathed and tipped his head forward so it came to rest against her stomach. Samantha smiled at that and ruffled his hair.

"Don't worry, little brother, I still love you, even if you are a rake," Sam replied softly. Brushing her hands through his hair, she shook her head slightly. "Perhaps you should stay here for a bit ... do the play and then re-think what you want to do. Mum would love to have you around, and gran would be ecstatic if you stayed longer."

"I know, and I think I will," Orlando whispered softly and looked up. "I need some normality around. I never understood why Lij still stayed at home but I think it is what keeps him grounded in a way."

"Could well be, Orli," his sister answered. "And perhaps you'll find enough peace here to start dating again." With that, she tugged at one of his curls and went back into the kitchen.

Orlando's grin was lopsided as he watched her saunter off. 'Lord, I love her,' Orlando thought, 'I have missed her and mum and nan. My three ladies.' Standing up wearily he walked over to the kitchen.

Samantha was setting the small table, while Orlando watched and when she looked up, noticing him standing there, she shook her head.

"Okay, while you, Mr. Bloom, get the wine out of the fridge, I nip over to Bronwyn's and ask if she wants to join us. You need some cheering up."

"Sam," Orlando's voice stopped her in mid stride. "She told me she was being picked up by someone ... she has ... a date."

"Don't be silly, Orli, that is her standard excuse if someone ..." Samantha hesitated and shot her brother an interested look. "Oh, you didn't try to come onto her, did you?"

"Why does everyone think I came onto her?" Orlando asked, then blushed and rubbed his neck embarrassed. "Okay, I asked her a couple of times if I can give her a lift. She declined." When he felt the inquisitive gaze of his sister on him, he grinned sheepishly. "Hey I wanted to be nice, after all she is your neighbour and we have the same way to go in the mornings."

"So you asked her ... about how many times?"

"A couple," Orlando shrugged. "She has this limp if you haven't noticed and she takes the tube, it would do her some good if she drove with me to work."

"Bronwyn doesn't drive, either by herself or as a passenger," Sam commented. "I don't know why, but she doesn't even take the bus. She either goes by underground or by foot."

"She told me she is claustrophobic, perhaps that's why," Orlando said and rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.

"If she were she would freak in the tube," his sister replied. "No, there has to be a different reason. Perhaps she'll tell us over dinner if you ask her nicely and don't behave like Mr. Hollywood."

"Sam, do you really think I behave like such a prick?"

Samantha smiled softly at the somewhat forlorn sound in her brother's voice. 'So he isn't totally lost to the Hollywood attitude,' she thought.

"Sometimes, brother mine. But I think I can cut you down to size again, why do you think annoying big sisters are there for?"

Orlando grinned mischievously and quickly swiped his sister up into his arms, dancing around with her in the small kitchen before he let her go.

The apartment had been cold and while Bronwyn waited for the central-heating to kick in, she decided to take a hot bath. Limping heavily into the bathroom, the young woman shed her clothes, throwing her shawl over the back of her chair while her coat was left on the floor. She had all but divested herself of her boxers and a long t-shirt when she heard her door bell ringing.

Cursing under her breath, she limped over to the door and used the intercom. "Yes?" Then there was a rap at her door.

"Bronwyn, it's me, Sam," the voice wavered through the door and opening it, Bronwyn curiously watched Sam standing in front of her.

"Hi," Bronwyn said and smiled wearily. "What can I do for you, Sam?"

Samantha watched the young woman in front of her. She had to smile when she noticed the rumpled T-shirt, the boxer shorts with daisies on them and the heavy woollen socks Bronwyn was wearing.

"I thought you might want to eat with us," Sam said. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I just wanted to take a bath while the central heating kicks in," the other woman replied and shifted slightly, shivering in the draughty hall way.

"Why don't you come over, Bron? I made risotto and Orli is opening a bottle of a real nice burgundy wine."

"Hmm, I don't know, Sam," Bronwyn said, rubbing her arms on which goosebumps had appeared. "Your brother only moved in two days ago and I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do ..."

"Oh fiddlesticks, Orli and I don't grow apart just because you come over for dinner. Besides, my apartment is warm and you need something warm to eat. Just put some comfy clothes on and come on over," Sam grinned when Bronwyn slowly nodded.

"Okay, give me five minutes, I'll be over."

Bronwyn closed the door after Sam had disappeared in her apartment again. For a moment the young woman closed her eyes and leant her head against the wood of the door. With a sigh she moved to her bed room and got a pair of cargo trousers out and put them on. Wrapping herself in a dark blue cardigan, she grabbed her keys.

Hand on the door knob, she hesitated then turned and walked over to the fridge in her small kitchen. She still had a complete Tiramisu in there, which she had bought on a whim but had forgotten all about it last night. Hefting the dessert underneath her arm, she tiptoed over to her neighbour's door.

After a soft rap on the wood, she waited, thinking about if it was such a good idea. Looking down she noticed that she only wore her socks, no shoes, and while berating herself, she thought about going back to her flat when the door opened and Orlando stood in front of her.

"Hi Bron, come on in," he greeted her cheerfully, taking in her appearance. "Your date stood you up?"

There it was the clinch, Bronwyn knew it would come up and she had the grace to blush.

"I lied," she blurted out, feeling foolish. She shoved the plastic container with the Tiramisu into his hands. "I just wanted to give Sam this. It's dessert. I'll head back to my apartment, I'm rather tired."

"Orli, it would be easier to move out of the way so Bronwyn can come in," Samantha's voice was heard behind Orlando and he shifted slightly to give her a full view of the young woman who was already half-way across the corridor to her own flat.

'Can it get any worse?' Bronwyn asked herself and heaving a big sigh, she turned around. Samantha had already left for the kitchen again as Orlando was standing in front of her without the plastic container.

"I'm sorry, Bronwyn," Orlando said sincerely and held out his hand in appeasement. "That was uncalled for and I promise I'll behave tonight, no more gripes from me, alright?"

She smiled lopsided and nodded. "Deal," Bronwyn replied and followed the actor into the apartment.

Orlando was watching his sister as she talked to Bronwyn over dinner. Since the first awkward moment in the corridor, neither he nor Bronwyn had mentioned it again, and the dinner had come about as a relaxed and to his surprise, a funny affair. He could see why Samantha was fond of Bronwyn, they were both soft-spoken and had the same teasing humour. Looking at both women, nursing his glass of red wine, he thought that people could even see them as sisters, for they looked alike with minor differences. Both had dark hair, where Sam's was softly curled, Bronwyn's was straight and way longer, almost reaching to her waist, and her eyes sparkled blue whereas Sam's reflected the chocolate brown eyes of his own.

He was listening to the light bantering, smiling from time to time when Samantha gathered the dishes together.

"Anymore wine?" he asked and pushed himself to his feet, holding up the empty wine bottle.

"Yes, I could need some more," Sam answered and looked inquisitively at Bronwyn who shook her head.

"Not for me, if I drink too much I won't get out of bed tomorrow morning," the young woman commented.

"Oh, please, Bronwyn," Sam whined and pouted her lips. "Besides, I'm sure Orlando won't mind giving you a lift tomorrow morning."

Bronwyn looked up, meeting Orlando's eyes and the actor raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Well... ummm... no ..." Bronwyn said, and felt herself blush under such close scrutiny.

"Care to tell me why you don't want to drive with me?"

"It can't be for your driving style, she doesn't know it yet," Samantha slapped at her brother's arm playfully, not noticing the intense gaze with which Orlando had pinned down Bronwyn.

"No ... it is just ..." heaving a big sigh, Bronwyn continued. "I don't ... ride in cars or buses. I go by foot or tube."

Samantha stared at her and also Orlando sat down again, rolling the empty wine bottle between his hands.

"You don't go by car ... ever?" Samantha asked, her gaze puzzled.

"I had a car once, but I prefer to go by foot or tube," Bronwyn replied, looking down on her hands. She sighed a soft breath of relief when the phone started ringing, and Samantha got up to answer it. Listening to her soft conversation and watching his sister moving into the bed room, Orlando sighed and stood up.

"I'll better take care of these," he said and carried the plates over to the kitchenette. Slowly, Bronwyn followed him with the cutlery and the rest of the dishes. For several minutes they worked silently side by side, while Orlando was doing the dishes in the sink and Bronwyn had wordlessly picked up a kitchen towel and was drying the plates and cups.

"Has it to do with your leg?" Orlando asked all of a sudden, and Bronwyn who had concentrated fully on the dishes, almost let the plate she was holding slip to the ground.

"Huh?" she asked and Orli dried his hands.

"This thing about not driving in any car, is it connected with your bad leg?"

For a few moments, Bronwyn just stared at Orlando before she nodded. 'Why beating around the bush' she thought to herself and placed the last of the dishes on the small counter beside her.

"I was in an accident, and ever since then I don't drive anymore..."

Orlando watched her, seeing the pain in her eyes as she moved carefully around, nursing her leg. "How long did you have to stay in hospital?"

"Three months, the femoral was smashed to smithereens and they thought I would never walk again," she replied softly.

"I know the feeling," Orlando commented and self-consciously rubbed his neck with a hand. "After my fall off a building, the doctors told me I would end up in a wheel chair. They fixed me with a surgery but still said I would be disabled for the rest of my life. I proved them wrong by walking out of hospital after twelve days."

"Twelve days?" Bronwyn asked and shook her head. "Wow, after twelve days, the doctors had decided not to cut off the leg in my case." She frowned when she remembered that particular moment. She had been devastated by the prospect of losing a leg, but when they had told her they would do surgery and see if they could put her shattered femoral back together again, she had been relieved and somewhere deep inside of her she had still hoped that she could resume her dancing career, but she had been proven wrong.

"You and I were both lucky," Orlando said softly and Bronwyn looked up at him. Something in his eyes made her shudder and she avoided his gaze.

"I guess so," she murmured. Unconsciously rubbing her thigh, she leant back against the counter.

"How about we are opening that other wine bottle and sit down in the living room?" Orlando asked who had noticed the pained expression on her face. "You should take some weight off that leg."

Checking her watch, Bronwyn straightened up with a grimace. "I better go back to my apartment, it's already ten and if I want to finish Ian's suit tomorrow I have better get to the theatre earlier than usual." She smiled softly and limped over to the dining table and picked up her cardigan. "Please tell Sam I enjoyed the dinner..."

She was already half-way out of the door when Orlando's voice held her back.

"Bronwyn?"

"Yes?" she turned and saw the actor standing directly behind her.

"You should take it easy with the leg, and if you need help, just call me or Sam, alright?" Orli asked, his eyes roaming over her face.

"I will, thanks," Bronwyn replied with a half-smile. "Good night, Orlando."

"Good night, Bron," Orlando smiled as he watched her crossing the landing. "And Bron .." he waited till she turned towards him again. "I have some experience in massaging, so if you need those kinks removed from your leg, ask me okay? Especially when you stand so long at work."

"Sure, I'll do that," the young woman replied, making a mental note to herself not to show any more pain when she was around Orlando. 'With my luck he would insist on giving me a massage right there at the theatre,' she told herself as she closed the door behind her.

"Where is Bronwyn?" Sam's voice brought Orlando out of his reverie. He was still standing in the open door to the apartment and staring at the door in the opposite direction where Bronwyn had disappeared behind.

"We called it a night, SamSam," Orlando replied, using his nickname for his sister.

"Oh," Sam plopped down on one of the chairs and lighted a cigarette. "Pity, I really enjoyed the evening."

"Me too, sis," Orlando said and pinched the cigarette from her fingers. Sitting down opposite her, he took a long drag from the fag and frowned when he saw his sister staring at him. "What?" he asked and Samantha chuckled.

"So what do you think of her? Considering you were in quite a huff about her when you came home tonight, you two got on surprisingly well."

Orlando grinned and shook his head. "What is that supposed to mean, Sam? Are you trying to fix me up with her?"

Samantha managed to force a shocked expression on her face and touched her chest dramatically. "Me? I would never ever do such a thing, brother mine."

"Yeah sure."

"Really I won't," Sam laughed. "But seriously, what do you think of Bronwyn?"

Orlando stared at his sister and even if he tried hard, he did not know what to answer to her question. For the first time in a long time, he had spent the evening with an attractive girl who he had not tried to get into bed with, and who had not batted her eyelashes at him every few seconds and if he had been honest with himself, he had enjoyed himself enormously. He had been himself rather than Orlando Bloom movie star. When he looked up at his sister's smiling face, he had to grin himself.

"I think I enjoyed myself very much, sis, it was great, and Bronwyn is great to talk to."

"I thought so," Samantha replied. "I knew you two would go along great once the ice is broken. She is normal, you know, not like some of those fancy girls you normally associate yourself with."

Now Orlando knew his sister was up to something, but he let it rest. With a shrug, he stood up kissed his sister good-night and walked to the guest bedroom.

Samantha on the other hand stared after her brother for long moments before a sly smile spread across her face and curved her lips.