You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 30

When you round on him Richard starts to murmur, "Just stay put and we'll explain everything..." He waves his hand to the side and you follow his gaze to see Bruce heading your way and closing in fast.

You're tempted to turn and walk right back out the door, but how would that look? Walking into this panel has completely thrown you though. Why had the had a picture of Tom and his e--  Tom and his girlfriend onscreen? You steal a glance at the screen to see Tom turned, listening intently to the person seated down the table from him. Is that the director of the 'secret' project he's been working on?

"______. Good to see you." Bruce has made it to you, hesitating only slightly before reaching out to shake your hand in greeting.

A few people in the back row have turned around, annoyed that someone has come into the panel so late, and then is making noise on top of it.

Your heart is doing flips. You should just walk right back out onto the convention center floor. You suppress the urge to flee in favor of giving Bruce a hug hello. "It's – unexpected – but good to see you too Bruce."

The commentator is instructing the crowd: "Last few questions. Those already with a mic only."

Bruce steps back and looks from you, to Richard, and back again -- looking a bit crestfallen. "Oh – I was sorta hoping you'd shown up because... well, nevermind." He looks a bit uncomfortable now and tries to turn the conversation elsewhere while the three of you wait for the panel to end. "So Richard – she still insist on sprinting first thing in the morning?"

"Used to – followed by treating everyone, paparazzi included, to coffee afterwards as a reward."

Bruce chuckles, "She tried that with us – Tom outsmarted her then. Hid her wa... Oh..." He frowns at himself a moment before apologizing, "Sorry _____."

You smile. It was a good memory that he had summoned. Humorous now that there was a bit of distance - even if it was immediately followed by a pang in your chest. You glance back up to the panel where Tom sits. "It's fine Bruce. He did."

You tune out the guys as they quietly talk logistics regarding providing security detail while trying not to appear winded from running. They're going down the table, answering whatever question had been asked. It's nearly Tom's turn to speak. You're not even really listening to the words, but the intonation as he speaks. You've missed this – him – the passion that seeps out with every word. Eavesdropping on Ben's phone calls isn't the same as being in the same room and feeling that spark. Somehow something is lost over the phone lines. "What can I add to all the answers previous? To my mind the real pull to the roles..."

Oh hell this isn't healthy at all. You shake yourself out of the trance you've fallen into. Time to move on already, ______. He's sitting next to the person he's replaced you with, for Christ's sake. You fully intend on tuning back in to whatever hushed conversation is ongoing between Bruce and Richard but your phone buzzes in your pocket. You'd only just turned it on vibrate and it still makes you jump.

CUMBERBATCH. Oh good – just the person you want to scold at the moment. You hold the phone up to show Richard that you want to take the call and step back towards the back wall of the room and cup the phone to your ear. "Did you seriously think this was a good idea?" You hiss into the phone.

Benedict chuckles, "You'd better keep your voice down or you'll get thrown out."

"What makes you think I'm still waiting for your panel and not halfway back to the car?" Richard looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. You shake your head and wave your hand at him to indicate We're staying here. Stand down Rambo.

"I can hear Tom, for starters. And going back to your first question. Yes. Richard and I agreed something had to be done." No wonder Richard had been in such a rush to cross the convention floor. Benedict sounds so pleased with himself. You'd wipe that grin off his face if you only knew where he was hiding backstage.

Tom is still rambling on through his answer and the entire audience is captivated. No wonder the panel had gone long. "You should have just told me –"

"Would you have come?"

You turn your back on the room, blocking out everything but the phone call. "Maybe." Ben releases a huff of disbelief and you turn back to look at the stage, at Tom. "Fine. No. I wouldn't have." Tom's finally concluded his response and they're trying to figure out who is next to ask a question. 

You had answered the call intending to scold Benedict and yet somehow he had ended up being the one scolding you. "Exactly. This silence has gone on long enough. You need to talk to him. If you'd gotten to the panel sooner..."

"I would have had more time to yell at you before your panel. He's sitting not two feet from her. Look, I saw the photos of them when I walked in. You need to leave it alone, Ben." Don't start pacing. Don't start pacing.

There's a bit of fumbling over the speakers preceding a sweet little voice, "I um – hi. I had a question but um I just thought I'd point out – um Tom? ______'s here. In the back... um there."

Wait. What had she just said? Your grip on your phone falters sending it clattering to the floor. You're torturing yourself just listening to his voice - you don't need, or want - his attention directed to the fact that you're here and struggling while being this far removed from his presence.

Tom's voice booms over the speakers, "What?"

"Fuck." You look at the stage to see Tom jerking to his feet.