The Journalist (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction)

Two

You've put off going back in to work as long as possible. You'd asked for a full week of vacation, after all. Watch, you'll walk in and they'll hand you a box full of your things from your desk. It's not like you'd given them the contact information regarding your hotel. Hopefully they realized that with your phone still at the office they'd need to email you to get in contact. The hotel did have computers made available for guests so you had that line of communication uncut.

You take the stairs rather than suffer through the awkwardness of the confined space of the elevator. It appears the entire floor was waiting your arrival. The whispers start almost immediately. One look at your boss and you're pretty much certain - you no longer have a job at the magazine.

Hopefully the person that hacked your phone lost their job too? They were the ones that had caused the close scrutiny of the magazine, really. But then the magazine was probably enjoying a spike in readership so - oh no what if they were being rewarded? The thought makes you a little nauseous. At least you didn't have anything to carry in with you so you're able to slip through the office unhindered - all of your work paraphernalia is still at Tom's.

You try to avoid everyone's gazes as you walk into your boss' office and wait for him to utter those words you're expecting to hear. No job means you can uproot completely and start fresh somewhere else. It might take some searching but surely there is a publication out there somewhere that hasn't heard about the breach, or doesn't care. Surely you can move somewhere it won't follow you. Wordlessly he hands you your phone. It's off - either turned off to stop the incoming messages or the result of a dead battery. You'll be needing a new number too, probably. Just like...

"How are you doing?"

His question catches you off guard, not to mention the concerned tone with which it was delivered. Cautiously, you shrug. "Fine." Not really fine. Not at all. "Trying to process..."

He nods and then frowns over your shoulder at the staff members peering through the office windows, trying to see what was going on. "Some vacation you had there." He spins the lever to close the blinds before continuing. "And he is..."

"Fine." You don't know. You don't care. Do you care? Yes. But decidedly no. You pocket your phone, not wanting to touch it too much, for the moment.

"Maybe another few days would help?"

That - wasn't what you were expecting from him. You hadn't really come in ready to work anyway. You were expecting to be fired, after all. You blink at him, nod, and then have to look down at the floor. "Uh. Thanks. I thought - thanks. It'll help a lot actually."

"I know it's not my place, as your boss, to comment - but don't duck tail and run from this. It'll only amplify the story." Wow. Advice from the most unexpected source. You nod, not entirely sure what to say in response. Your struggle is evident and he waves to dismiss you. "Ok take a few extra days - we'll see you - Wednesday? Unless you want to extend your vacation past that? You certainly have the days stockpiled."

You shake your head. You'll need the money. Right now you're holed up in a hotel room nearby. You'll need the few days to get details ironed out regarding renting a place. Maybe you should wait to see if you even want to stay. Your coworkers are watching you so closely you feel almost like an exhibit in the zoo. Plus - Tom...

Well, the two of you can surely live in the same city and survive. Right?

You expected something from Tom in the first few days after he threw you out. Yes, you didn't have your phone until this moment, but you expected some form of communication - email or something - telling you available times to come pick up some of your things.