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

Part 46

You flick the petal of one of the white tulips that are starting to fill the makeshift vase on your dressing room table. Tom had sent long stemmed white roses to your place the day after arriving in California. The bouquet that he had sent you had dwindled down to a single stem as the petals had slowly wilted. And then white tulips had started appearing in your dressing room. You haven’t asked him why the change in flower was necessary, or change in location of delivery – perhaps he realized that sending flowers to your place when you wouldn’t be there to receive them didn’t make sense?

You’ve yet to be around when the next white tulip appears. Each morning there is another. Whomever Tom had hired to deliver the flowers was devoted to the task, that’s for sure.

The plan to drive to visit Tom, or to have him visit you, had been appealing enough but the implementation of said plan is proving problematic. No, neither Bruce nor Richard will allow either you or Tom to drive one way or the other unsupervised. They are contracted to guard each of you, respectively, and cannot be dissuaded.

You’ve protested – Richard, via Mark’s approval, had allowed you to fly to London without needing to be there to hold your hand the entire way. Tired of arguing your case with Richard, you’ve gotten Mark on speakerphone in the hopes that you can convince him to let you make the trip alone.

Mark’s not on your side this time. “Airports have security and airplanes don’t make pit stops along the route.”

“When it’s not a non-stop flight they do…” You mutter.

You’ve started to pace around your dressing room. Richard dropped out of the argument after you picked up the phone to call Mark. He’s now got a smug grin that he’s trying to hide by keeping his head down while flipping through the stack of papers that have once again accumulated in your dressing room. You really should suggest to Matt and Andrew that they move their little telegraph-spy-game to the digital form to save on memos. They’ve been running the poor crewmembers ragged sending you notes.

“If you’re driving up there tomorrow night you are taking Richard with you, _______. Hell, let him drive and rest along the way. That’s what days off are supposed to be, you know. Rest.” You can hear the clack of the keyboard. Mark is back to answering emails and the like. Clearly he thinks the debate is over.

What can either of them do, really, if you just leave straight from work? Rent a car and leave right after you’re done for the day? You’ll have to figure out a way to get your bag past Richard in the morning – or just stop to buy supplies along the way. Of course that would delay your arrival and…

You risk a glance at Richard and find him watching you. “Stop plotting. We argue against your independent streak because we care.”

You’re only just able to keep yourself from muttering out the thought that pops into your head: Paid to care. No need for hurling such barbs. They’re doing their jobs. You take a deep breath and nod. “Alright. Fine.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow as soon as you’re able and then drive back the following day after Tom leaves for work.” He holds up his empty hand, he’s still holding the paperwork he’s been looking through in his right hand. “I know you want to stay more than one night but if we do it’ll mean that we’ll have to rush the following morning. I’d rather not fight traffic on the way back down in the hopes that we can get you on set in time.” Richard waits for you to nod before standing. “That’s settled then. I’ll call the hotel and book a room for myself.”

Mark has resumed tapping on his keyboard. “No need. I’ve taken care of it. Now if that’s all…”

“_______?” Someone is knocking lightly on the door.