It's Friday I'm in Love (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

The rest of the morning went surprisingly well. As always after talking about my favorite tv shows, I was in a great mood. Plus, my phone now contained a gorgeous British man's number. After discussing Doctor Who for awhile, we eventually moved on to the usual topics, where are you from, what do you do, do you have any pets, those sorts of questions. I learned the tall man's name was actually Brad Hanson and that he frequently did business in Los Angeles. He worked for the BBC in Market Analysis on the US west coast, specifically in California. They wanted to discover the demographics for current television shows in the area, and see if there was any potential to bring BBC programmes to that audience. Also, Brad loved espresso. He said I could call him anytime and we could watch Doctor Who together or go get coffee somewhere. I was having such a wonderful morning, I was thinking there was no way I wasn't going to call him within the next few days. Nothing was going to get in my way today. Every task I was assigned was done quickly, efficiently, and quietly, as if I wasn't even there. I was being the perfect PA.

Currently, I was running back to the studio after retrieving a talent release form for one of our extras who somehow got this far without signing it. It had only been extras and one not-so-important character played by Giovani Ribisi on set so far, and everyone I overheard talking on set was still trying to guess who would be playing the main character, The Echo. Even I was getting intrigued. Who could this mystery actor be that they had to keep it on the down low for so long? All I could think was that he must have been a big star, whoever he was, otherwise there would have been a press release ages ago.

I was almost back to Studio 2 where I needed to deliver the form when I rounded a corner and nearly slammed into someone walking the opposite way.

"Oh, sorry," I said as I lifted my head to give the stranger an embarrassed smile.

Oh my goodness. He was one of my favorite actors.

"No, no, no, my fault." He placed his hand over his heart and dipped his head.

"Heh..." Was that really all I could say? My brain was screaming at me to say something intelligible, but the neurons weren't firing.

"Actually," he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket scoured it, and looked back at me, "while I've got you here, could you possibly point me in the direction of Studio 2?"

This was my chance. Words don't fail me now. Say something memorable, say the right thing, just say something!

"Uh... Sure." Great. Well done, Frigga.

Now, imagine you are strolling along one day when you happen to meet your idol or your hero or even, say, one of your favorite actors. Caught off-guard, you would have to think quickly about what you want to tell them or ask them. If they smile and nod, you've done well. But if they just stare at you blankly, it's safe to assume they think you're a lunatic.

At this moment, Tom Hiddleston was staring at me blankly.

"So, where is it?"

Where is what? "Oh, yes! The studio! Right this way Tom! I mean, um, Mr. Hiddleston..."

Oh boy. I smacked my hand to my forehead as I sped off towards Studio 2 before quickly making it look as if I was brushing hair out of my eyes.

I heard him shuffle as he jumped to catch up with me. "Right, erm... Sorry to trouble you. I would normally have someone with me to show me around, but I sort of lost my friend somewhere around the jungle set back there."

"It's really not a problem." Finally, my brain and mouth had gotten over their argument and decided to work together. "So, Studio 2, where they're filming The Echo?" I glanced over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that," he said as a smile played across his face. Suddenly it was as if I was talking to an old friend. One little, Tom Hiddleston smile was all it took to calm my nerves. If only he was around during my college speech class. Martin Luther King Jr would have had nothing on me.

"I see. Good thing I'm a PA for that production and happen to know that's the precise location for this week's shoot." I shot him a how-bout-that look.

He chuckled and watched his feet as he walked. Raising his head, he looked me right in the eye. "You got me."

At this point, with his mile-long legs, he had caught up with me so that we were walking side by side. Another thing, which I didn't realize until I was lying in bed that night, replaying every single, minuscule detail over and over again in my head, our pace had slowed significantly.

We rounded a corner, coming into full view of Studio 2.

"Well, here we are," I gestured towards the warehouse-like building.

"Thank you so much for your help." Tom turned towards me and reached out his hand to shake mine. Before I could match his movements, however, I heard what sounded like a charging bull huffing towards us, flaring nostrils and all.

"Tom!" The approaching woman called out in a drawn-out, high-pitched and nasally voice. She looked like Rosie the Riveter, but sounded like Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors with a New Jersey accent. "Honey, where have you been? The Studio is this way, come on!"

The woman, who I assumed was Tom's agent, or at least someone in charge of his schedule, grabbed his arm and walked toward the direction of the studio. He looked at me over his shoulder as he was being dragged away and jokingly barred his teeth. It was enough to make me giggle like a fangirl.

"Thank you for your help, Bubble Girl!" he called as they rounded a corner.

I smiled and waved like an idiot. Bubble Girl? I looked down at the t-shirt I forgot I had thrown on that morning. It was my Michael Buble "Buble Girl" t-shirt. I guess it was safe to say Tom Hiddleston wasn't a fan on the Canadian crooner.