Smile Please

Duty Calls

Tom groaned and rolled over.  Grabbing the phone, he resisted the urge to silence it permanently against the wall.  Jet lag, the bane of every long-haul traveller's life, grabbed at his mind and body turning them into a swirling mess of lethargy and confusion.   Sitting up, he slipped the now thankfully silent phone back onto the bedside table and pushed the covers back.  Shower, his mind focussed on the word, his legs obeying slowly.  

Swinging them round, he stood and walked over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he went.  Bed head curls and beard, he hardly recognised himself. Should he shave it off? Were the fans really that keen on "Professor Hiddleston" as one of his friends had laughingly called it the other day.  He shrugged and rubbed his face, trying to bring himself to life.  Too much to think about right now.  He would wait and see in the meantime; it helped him have a little privacy.  He'd almost made it through the airport, his face obscured by the beard until a pap had rumbled him.  He smiled as he recalled the rugby scrum that ensued as they realised that he'd almost had one over on them.   Still, he was here for a couple of weeks, plenty time to switch up his look if needs be.  The fans came first, if they didn't like it, he would give them whatever they did.  That was just the way it was.

Opening the curtains, he looked out over the bay, the early morning sunshine reflecting off the water.  He liked it here, if he had to be anywhere other than London, it was here.  Sunshine, warm weather, friendly people.  San Diego was a lovely place to do the best job in the world.  He really was, he reminded himself, one lucky son of a ...  His thoughts were interrupted by the damned phone again.  Furrowing his brows he lunged at the table, flopping back onto the bed to reach it.  Lounging against the pillows, he pressed answer - he could see it was Luke, his publicist and close friend.

"Good morning" came the far too cheery voice from the other end. "You're awake then?"

"Mhmmm so it seems." he replied a little more grumpily than he intended. "I suppose this isn't a social call, is it Luke?" he wasn't really mad at him, just tired, and Luke knew it.  Tom was a great man; kind, generous and very, very giving of his time and attention to everything he did, but he was a terrible grump when he didn't sleep.

"No Boss" he replied "Remember you've got Photo Ops today, from 2pm, so make sure old Bluey gets an airing.  You know how they love him!" he laughed and even Tom began to smile.

"Don't worry, I won't forget. What time is the car coming?" Tom stood up and walked back over to the window looking down to where people were milling around in the street, several floors below.  They always knew the celebrity hotels and hung around for a quick sneaky photo.  He didn't mind, he actually felt a little sorry for them, security seemed to be rather heavy handed sometimes, keeping people at rather more than arm's length.  Something he liked to remedy wherever possible.

"In a couple of hours, that's why I called, knew you'd sleep in today.  Thought it would give you time for a bite to eat before the session.  See you then, ok?" 

"Sure, bye man."  Tom hung up and smiled.  He actually liked photo ops, lots of stars didn't, found them awkward and more than slightly embarrassing.  Not Tom, he loved to see the fans up close.  Talk to them when there was time. Hug them and generally give them the feeling they were the most important thing in his world for those few minutes.  Which they, in truth were.  Without them, he would have nothing.

As he stood under the shower a few minutes later, the warm water breathing new life into his tired bones, he wondered what this year's highlight would be.  Nothing had really come close to the year he turned up as Loki, going viral instantly and launching a million memes not to mention fantasies. With a laugh, he wondered if that random man's wife still loved him?  That day had been an inspired idea by Kevin and unmatched in the annals of Comicon history.  

Now, as he dried off and dressed, he looked at himself again and for once, was actually pretty content with what he saw.  Black jeans, blue jumper and grey suede boots.  Yep Hiddleston, he thought as he grabbed his phone and headed for the elevator to the rooftop lounge, you'll do.

Lizzie paced the room like a lion waiting for her prey.  

"Come ON Peter!" she punched him in the arm as he searched the room for his sunglasses, "you had them yesterday, they can't be missing! Where did you leave them?" 

"If I knew that cousin dearest" he turned with a sarcastic smile "I wouldn't be looking, would I?"  he dropped to his knees, checking under his bed. "AH HA!" he raised an arm in triumph, hand clutching the offending item. 

"Come on - what you waiting for? Thought you had a convention to get to? " He pushed her out the way and belted for the door, leaving her standing hands on hips, shaking her head.

Taking a moment to breathe, she realised they actually had no rush, despite her wish to fill every minute.  The shuttle bus only took a couple of minutes and there was nothing lined up this afternoon, just a mooch about.  Tomorrow would be a Cosplay day, so today was an enjoy the sunshine kind of a day.  She knew there was a rooftop bar where the view of the bay would be great. 

"Come on, let's grab a drink before we go" she dragged Peter to the lifts and he groaned, he would never understand her in a month of Sundays - one minute desperate to leave, the next dragging him to the top of the hotel.  Oh well, as long as she was happy.  He just wished she could have the final icing on the cake, but so far, no sign of that particular two-legged attraction.

The lift arrived and the doors opened - in typical Comicon week fashion, it was packed.  They squeezed in, Lizzie pressing herself into the corner and someone pressed the button for the roof.  She grinned at Peter, equally pressed into the other corner and he just grimaced and rolled his eyes.  They were almost there when the lift stopped at the second to top floor.  Surely no-one else could squeeze in she thought.  There was a tiny space beside her, she prayed they had at least showered this morning!

The doors slid open and there was a collective murmur of people making room, from where she was squished, she couldn't see who had come in.  Some extremely nice aftershave relieved her worries about being so close but the only view she got was a pair of long legs and a back as they slid into the corner in front of her.  Arriving at the roof the lift lurched to a stop and the newcomer stepped back, right onto her foot!

"Ow!" she yelped, his full weight on her.  She winced and closed her eyes, waiting for the lift to empty so she could rub her aching toes.  The sea of humanity surged out and as soon as there was room, she followed and bending over, whipped off her shoe.  The stranger took a step forward and then turned to her,

"I'm so sorry darling, that was entirely my fault.  Are you ok? " He held out a hand to steady her arm as she balanced on one leg and rubbed her foot. 

Lizzie's head almost snapped off her neck as she registered the voice.  No! Surely not! As she looked up, she was met with the sight of a tall man in a blue jumper with a beard and glasses. For a second she faltered, was it him?  Then their eyes met and she was sure.  Behind those glasses, were the eyes she had fantasised about many times. 

"Oh my goodness" she gasped "Tom!"