Title: The Moose, the Tree, and the Irish Writer
Author: Sairalinde
Type: HET Fan Fic
Pairing: Viggo/OFC
Rating: R
Beta: Glorfindel
Disclaimer: This never happened…this is total fiction…Viggo is a real person but I
make no claims on him other than he is ready made for writing a romance story
about. Artist/Actor/Poet all that jazz perfect fodder for a romance story, saved me
a lot of time making up a character is all. The female character is a figment of my
deranged imagination from reading far too many cheesy romance novels.
Peripheral characters of Sean Bean and Orlando Bloom are also not mine
obviously and do NOT have a relationship as far as I know. This was written in
fun that's all. All other characters are fictitious.
Feedback: Yes please send to sairalinde@hornofgondor.com
Archiving: Yes but ask first please.
Summary/Notes:Viggo meets an Irish writer in a most unusual way. Love story.

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[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12]

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Chapter 3

He went up to her door. "Tabby?" He called through the closed door.

"Yes...just a second." She said as she finished slipping on a pair of clean jeans.

She opened the door as she was brushing her hair. Viggo walked in. "You get enough rest?"

"Oh yes, that bed is wonderful...feather bed huh?" She asked smiling into the mirror at him.

"Yeah, I was going to start dinner...is there anything you particularly don't care for? I have a friend who is a vegetarian so I always ask now." Viggo said as he ran his fingers across the edge of the quilt.

"I dunno...what were you planning?" She asked stopping in mid stroke.

"UH, I was actually going to make beef stew and biscuits, uh the American kind." Viggo said softly...knowing that biscuits to her would be something all together different. "I had planned that so I would have plenty left over and not have to cook tomorrow." He laughed.

She laughed too. "Didn't plan on feeding another person eh?"

He smiled.

"Well how about you make that and let me make dessert? I will rummage around your kitchen if you don't mind and see what I can come up with?" She asked.

"Sounds good to me." Viggo admitted.

Viggo went back downstairs and was soon joined by Tabby. Damn...she had put her hair up in a ponytail. Would women never learn we hate that? Viggo
thought.

She did literally rummage through all of his cupboards and pulled out ingredients onto a spot on the counter. He kept glancing over trying to determine what she was going to make. Whatever it was would have chocolate and apparently whiskey.

She smiled at him then. "What?" he asked.

"Brownies." She replied with a big grin.

"I thought that to make brownies you used a box that said Betty Crocker on the side?" Viggo said smiling at her.

"Oh where's the fun in that? Nope I am making my seanmháthair's (grandmothers) homemade fudge brownies...a recipe I happen to have committed to memory. It's a variation on Irish Whiskey Cake really." She stated proudly even nodding her head so show her conviction, which made a few curls pop out of her ponytail and fall down her neck.

Viggo laughed. "All right then."

Just as Viggo started peeling carrots the phone rang. "Uh can you get that...I am a little wrapped up here."

"Sure." She chimed and ran to the phone.

"Hello, Viggo Mortensen's residence." Tabby said in her thickest accent just for fun.

Sean Bean began to laugh on the other end of the phone. "Is this a joke? Where is Viggo?" He asked.

She lessened her brogue and replied. "He's in the kitchen, I am Tabby O'Shea, a guest of Viggo's. May I ask who is calling?" She asked as she carried the cordless phone into the kitchen.

"This is Sean Bean a friend of Viggo's." He answered trying not to laugh.

"Oh hello...I saw you in Macbeth in London last year...splendid job." She said smiling into the phone. Viggo turned, he knew then it was Sean she was complimenting.

"Thank you...uh can I talk to Viggo?" He asked again.

"Oh yes sorry" Then Sean could hear her talking to Viggo. "Viggo here, you oh you silly man will you just dry your hands and take the phone. Mr. Bean is getting annoyed at me." She said laughing.

Sean started to laugh, the lass was delightful.

"Hello?" Viggo finally came on the line trying desperately not to laugh as Tabby mock pouted and started peeling the carrots he had left.

"Who the hell was that?" Sean asked.

"Tabby O'Shea, she is a guest...you will have to stay in the downstairs room off my studio next week as she has your normal room." Viggo informed him.

"What? Who is she...how'd she get her claws into my favorite room?" Sean asked as if he was hurt terribly.

Viggo laughed and began telling Sean the tale of the moose, tree, and Irish writer. Sean was laughing so hard at some points Viggo was sure he was going to hurt himself.

"Hell of a way to meet a woman Viggo. Only you, man, only you. So how is it that she is staying with you...she isn't suing your tree is she?" Sean snickered again.

"No. You know how far from anywhere I am out here...since Bob is fixing her car in town I thought she could just stay here. It's not like I don't have room." Then Viggo moved out onto the porch shutting the door..."Besides Sean I like her...a lot...I haven't felt this instantly attracted to anyone in a long, long time. If we are just friends fine...but I at least want a chance to find out. If I put her in a hotel three hours away I won't ever find out will I?" Viggo asked.

Sean laughed. "Good God Viggo you are a romantic after all. Listen to you...not wanting to tempt fate huh? I am proud of you. So what do you know about her?"

"She is a romance writer, pretty successful from what I understand. Twenty two weeks at number one on the NY Times Best Seller List." Viggo said keeping watch to make sure she didn't step out on the porch and overhear him.

"Christ, twenty two weeks huh? Well what's she like?" Sean asked.

"Gorgeous, like a little Irish fairy Sean. I have never been turned on just by a set of eyes in my entire life. She has emerald eyes Sean I swear it, emerald." Viggo said realizing he sounded like a desperate teenager but not really caring.

"Emerald? Really?" Sean said then Viggo heard some clicking in the background.

"What are you doing Sean?" Viggo asked.

"Looking her up on the Internet.... whoa...Jesus you weren't kidding Viggo she is lovely, and her bio here does say in fact she has emerald green eyes." Sean said reverently.

"Sean you are nuts...looking her up on the Internet!" Viggo scolded. Damn he really needed to get a computer.

"Did she tell you how old she is?" Sean asked.

"The subject hasn't come up, Sean." Viggo said annoyed.

"Well she is twelve years your junior old man." Sean replied. "That isn't so bad considering I guess. She has more education than you and I put together advanced degrees from Oxford and Cambridge in history and literature. I think...yep her title is Dr. O'Shea actually." Sean informed him.

"Jesus...you are too much Sean." Viggo laughed.

"Well I have to look out for you, what if she was some deranged fan, or worse a reporter?" Sean said laughing.

"Yeah she slammed into a tree to impress me or get an interview with me, and the moose was in on the plan too huh?" Viggo shook his head.

Sean cracked up again and said, "Well let me say goodbye to Tabby then I will let you go...see you Monday."

Viggo walked back into the house and Tabby was just finishing up the carrots. "Sean wants to say goodbye."

She took the phone. "Hello?"

"Tabby dear please keep an eye on my Viggo...he is quite scatter brained you know." Sean teased. "That's why I am coming out, I worry about him so."

She laughed. "He seems quite in control of his faculties today, Mr. Bean."

They both laughed and Viggo said "Hey!?" She tugged the phone back away from him and walked back to the living room. "So give me some dirt would you...I must have something to tease him about...he has so much on me already… the moose, the tree."

Sean laughed. "Ask him about surfing."

"Surfing?"

"Yep. Take care lass...look forward to meeting you in person." Sean said laughing.

She said goodbye. Viggo certainly had interesting friends.

She walked back into the kitchen and Viggo had started peeling potatoes. A few minutes later as Tabby was putting some spices on the counter for the stew the phone rang again.

Viggo slumped his shoulders over the sink and said, "Oh damn, Sean."

Tabby grabbed the phone and again answered. "Hello Viggo Mortensen's residence, Tabby O'Shea speaking." She was greeted with hysterical laughter.

"Uh Viggo some daft bugger is laughing their arse off on the phone." She said holding it a bit away from her.

Viggo rolled his eyes. "It's either Elijah Wood or Orlando Bloom."

She spoke into the phone, "Is this Elijah Wood or Orlando Bloom." The voice on the other end was a bit strangled sounding but managed Orlando.

"It's Orlando Bloom." She informed Viggo who rolled his eyes and muttered something in Danish.

"Mr. Bloom, Viggo can't come to the phone right now."

"Why?"

"Well because he is elbow deep in potato peels if you must know."

"Potato peels?"

"We are making stew."

"Ah I see. So you ran into a tree avoiding a moose?"

"Sean is fast isn't he...yes...yes that is how I came to be here."

Orlando finally was able to catch his breath. "You sound sweet."

"Uh thank you...I think"

"Viggo needs sweet...lots of it. Tell him I am coming with Sean next week."

"Orlando says that he is coming with Sean next week." She informed Viggo who started laughing.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing…he's laughing."

"OH...well see you next week deary." Orlando said.

"Ok...bye." She hung up.

"That was bizarre." She said putting the phone back on the counter staring at it.

"Yes Orlando is a strange boy. You should have seen him when I first met him…he was sporting a Mohawk." Viggo said shaking his head.

"Is it so novel that you have a woman in your house, Viggo that your friends have to fly across the ocean to see if it's true?" She asked sitting down on a bar stool and watching him toss potatoes into the pot.

Viggo laughed. "I suppose so, I haven't exactly dated anyone in quite a long time."

"Ah, well don't feel too bad, I haven't dated anyone since I caught my finance cheating on me three years ago." She said pushing some spilled salt across the counter.

"Three years? That's about the same time frame for me actually. He was cheating on you?" Viggo couldn't believe some idiot let this woman go like that…though he was damn glad they did. She didn't respond though. She hopped up off the bar stool and began working with Viggo to finish getting the stew ready.

After they had the stew going and Tabby's brownies were on the stove cooling along with the biscuits they went into the living room and sat down.

"I am tired already." She said curling her bare feet under her on the couch.

"You will be feeling the effects of the wreck for a few days I imagine." Viggo said shifting into a more comfortable position in his chair.

Tabby looked down and started to laugh.

"What?" He asked looking down at himself praying his fly wasn't open.

"Viggo...you do so need a woman in your life...look at your socks." She was giggling by this time and he looked down and noticed two holes in one sock and one in the other.

"They are comfortable thank you very much." He said trying to sound miffed but unable to suppress the laughter.

"You said you wrote poetry...can I read some of it?" She asked after the laughter faded.

"Sure." He said and got up and walked across the room.

He grabbed a small book off the shelf and handed it to her. "Here, it's several years old but has some of my favorites."

She sat down and started flipping thru the pages and stopped at one of the poems. She started reading it;

Last Leg
After driving the first forty miles of the morning
you accused me of ignoring you.
Now I'm waiting for the next volley
but it isn't coming.
I've been thinking for an hour since
and I don't know what you meant.
All you probably wanted was to trade a few words.
I didn't.
My mind has been on road things.
I see that the ocotillo is greening,
the sage looks like new.
Crows everywhere.
Some of the washes are wet
and there's a three-day grass mantle
on the highway shoulder.
Even the cottonwoods show signs
of waking up.
But now that you've accused me
I don't feel like mentioning these things.
Or the road kills.
Or the Colorado,
which we just crossed
as you bore down on yet another postcard.
Maybe you're right,
maybe this silence is oppressive -
indicating some great underlying disorder.
But the year is just beginning
and this car is running perfect.

She chuckled and then looked up at him. "This is wonderful, quite good." She smiled. "We Irish do love our poets."

"Thanks...from a fellow writer and Irish one at that I appreciate it. Though I am certainly no Keats." He said smiling.

"I wouldn't say my writing is in this caliber...poetry it is not. I...I write romance novels, Viggo...nothing high brow or as respectable as poetry at all." She said looking down and tugging at a loose string on her jeans.

"What's wrong with romance novels?" Viggo asked.

"You don't think it's silly?" She asked surprised.

"Not in the least...if it's what you enjoy...do it. If I didn't enjoy my poetry I wouldn't write it...I don't write it to sell books I write it for myself." Viggo said his blue gray eyes looking right into hers.

She smiled at him. "I wish everyone felt the way you do...my parents believe I have wasted my education."

"Are you successful?" He asked.

"Yes, yes I am." She said nodding.

"Does it pay the bills?" He asked seriously.

"Yes, more than pays them." She admitted.

"Then how exactly do your parents describe success?" He asked as he sat his wine glass down on the table beside his chair.

"I guess they just expected something more scholarly. If I were like you, a poet, that they could respect." She admitted tugging again at the string.

"Yes but being a poet doesn't really pay the bills. Your novels make people happy, Tabby, regular everyday people right?" Viggo asked.

"Yes, I suppose so." She said looking up at him.

"Then who cares? So you aren't Shakespeare...he was a joke in his day as well if you recall." Viggo said smiling at her.

She laughed and said, "Never quite thought about it that way."

Viggo looked across the room at the clock on the desk across the room..."Dinner should be ready, you hungry?"

"Starved." She said as he pulled her up from the couch.

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