Extra Special

Aftermath...

"Are you ok love?" the voice at the end of the line was soft and warm, it was exactly what she needed.  

"Noooooo, even my skin is sore Tom" she whimpered as her pounding head made her lie down again "I feel like death.  This is all your fault Hiddleston!" she sniffed "If you didn't have such impeccable taste in wine, I wouldn't have drunk so much!" she wasn't at all annoyed she was just looking for an excuse for the mother of all hangovers.

Tom laughed quietly "would you like me to come over?  I could bring painkillers and something to eat?  Something massively greasy and hangover quelling? A bacon and sausage roll?  A fried egg roll?" he teased and she made gagging noises down the phone at him in disgust.

"I'm never eating - or drinking - again." she whined putting a hand over her eyes.  God she was a appallingly poor human being when she was hungover. Tom snorted and she smiled, despite herself.  The notion of never eating again was not one that either of them could imagine her living up to. "But you could still come over... if you wanted to..." she said softly.  "I- I think I need you to tell me what I did last night. I'm sorry if it was anything bad. "

Tom laughed, loudly this time, eliciting a 'shhhhhhh' from her in response. "You don't remember? Anything?" he couldn't think she'd been THAT drunk. 

"No, I remember everything up until the taxi.  How I got home, into bed, all a mystery.  Who brought me?  Who..." and here she whispered as if trying to keep it a secret "who undressed me?"

"Ahh well" he said mysteriously "thereby hangs a tale.  It was really rather funny actually..." he stopped.  "But I'm sure you don't really want to know." he was teasing her mercilessly.  This was mileage he could extract for years if he played his cards right.  He wasn't, by nature cruel and sadistic, he just loved that finally he'd got one over on her.  This could be comedy gold. 

Rosie, however, didn't think it nearly so amusing. "Stop it Hiddleston, I mean it!" she tried to sound mad at him, but just ended up sounding pathetic. Even she laughed now.  "Ok, so you're not going to tell me, I get it.  Make me suffer eh?  Get some mileage out of it! I know how your mind works Mr.!  Please still come over though?  I'd really like you to?" she waited, fingers as crossed as her frazzled mind and aching body would let her.

Tom smiled broadly and immediately agreed.  "Of course I will darling. Be there in a little while.  I'll buzz you.  Now you go back to bed till I get there, but please drink some water ok?" despite his earlier teasing, he now sounded genuinely concerned and it made her all warm and fuzzy inside.  He really was an angel.

"Ok, see you soon" she hung up and lay back, smiling and clutching the phone to her.  If only she could remember last night.  She was absolutely sure it had been Tom that brought her home - after all no-one else would have known where she was living - but what had she said to him?  Not much, she doubted she could have bitten her own fingers to be perfectly honest, but you could never tell.  Maybe he'd be more co-operative face to face.  As she tried to form a plan, she drifted back off to sleep.

She was woken sometime later by a loud and insistent buzzing.  For a moment she was completely confused.  What?  Where was?  Who?  Then she came to in a rush. Hangover, Tom, DOOR!

Throwing back the quilt she padded quickly into the hall and pressed the door release, then she put the front door on the latch and wandered into the kitchen.  All this activity was far too much and she sank onto a chair and laid her head on the table, the cool wood soothing her.  She moaned quietly.  "Please let me die.  Please." 

"Not a chance love" a voice said at her ear and a large, warm hand stroked her forehead "Come on, let's get you sorted.  Shower first and something to eat..." she tried to object but there was no argument.  "Nope. Shower - you smell like a vineyard and then something to settle your stomach.  I promise you'll feel better.  Now do I have to carry you to the shower as well?"

"Oh God! You carried me?" she whimpered  "Tom?"

"Yes love" 

"Why do I have a bruise on my forehead?  Did I fall? Is that why you carried me?" she asked like a little lost soul.

"Well, not exactly" he now flushed and felt more than slightly anxious. "I - em - well - it was me.  I hit you off the door as I carried you in last night." he put his hand gently on the blue-ish purple-ish lump above her left eye. "I'm so sorry darling." 

Rosie smiled, despite everything, he was still her angel. "It's ok.  If that's the only legacy from last night I think I did pretty well out of it." she wandered through to the bathroom and in a couple of minutes he heard the shower going and faint sounds of a cat in pain.  

"You ok love?" he popped his head out the kitchen door and she stopped singing. 

"What?"

"Nothing love!" he called and went back to making her snack, laughing like a drain.

Twenty minutes later, she sat, all shiny face and damp hair devouring a bacon roll.  And then another. And two mugs of tea. Tom watched with growing amusement as she stuffed it all away at a rate of knots that would have scared a piranha. "hungry now are we?" he murmured and she stopped, looking him dead in the eye.

"Try and take it away and see what happens..." she threatened.  For a moment, they sat eyeing each other up.  Then slowly, her expression changed.  She stood, looking sweaty and pale "I- I don't think I... " she bolted from the room.  Tom shook his head for the umpteenth time that morning and sauntered after her.

Kneeling beside her, he held her hair back and rubbed her back.  When she was done, he helped her sit up and passed her a glass of water. "Better?" he asked, without any trace of sarcasm.  He knew she was feeling like hell.

"Yeah." she said putting the glass on the floor beside her. "Sorry." she winced and sat back, looking marginally more human that at any point so far. "I must look a right state" 

"Well, not your finest look I'll grant you, but I still love you darling." it was out before he could stop it.  

She didn't say a word, just looked at him and smiled a little. "thank you" was all she said. She got to her feet and pulled him up to stand too. "Come on, lets have another go at a cuppa.  I think we both need one now don't we?"  she walked out the bathroom and back to the kitchen.

Tom just stood and watched her go.  That was it?  Nothing?  No reaction?  This was not how he had hoped things would turn out today.  In any sense.  

What he didn't - couldn't - know was that Rosie was currently working out why she hadn't said it back.  She'd wanted to, really wanted to. For days, but in that perfect moment, something had stopped her. Until she could work out what that something was, she couldn't lie.  She only hoped that he would wait around for her to do so.

And what she didn't know, in turn, was the very fact she hadn't, made him all the more determined to prove his worth.  He only hoped that she would wait around so he could.