Life Is What You Make It (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic)

Chapter 2: We're Giving You the Chair!

A Deer in the Headlights

"Ha ha, that was... just a joke," I manage while trying to regain what little composure I have. In my head, explosions have gone off, and I'm marching around like a drum major with a baton, singing, 'Tom Hiddleston spoke to me! Hooray! Tom Hiddleston spoke to me! Hooray!' in a tune I am sure is similar to They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Ha.

What little bit of brain that is still this side of crazy is saying, Be cool, Mac. Say something like, 'Sup?' Thank Poseidon I don't listen to either one.

Like my guardian angel, Anna pops around the partition and says, "Hey stranger," while giving Tom a peck on the cheek. Tom returns the greeting with a peck and the best hug he can manage from the chair and a semi-standing position. Anna then looks at me without Tom seeing. The look on her face is somewhere between a sly grin and concern for my sanity. You and me both, Sister!

"Tom, have you met Mia?" Anna asks. Tom smiles warmly, and says, "No, I haven't, but with her unbridled hatred for Marvel, I think I better ascribe to the adage, 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.'"

Tom reaches out with his hand, and I take it. It's warm and large... very large. As I take it, he pulls me close, and without another word he brushes his lips over my knuckles in classic gentlemanly fashion. His eyes meet mine steadily, though, which is both reassuring and disconcerting.

The problem is I imagine Tom continuing to kiss my hand, then my wrist, then the sensitive inside of my elbow, then... I break from that thought as I realize Tom's very blue eyes are still staring into mine. I pull my hand back, and blush slightly. Damn it, I do not blush! He seems to read my look, and he appears a bit confused.

Not wanting him to think of us as enemies, I quickly start babbling like a loon to sooth his concern over my intentions because, you know... babbling like a loon is always a good choice for any awkward situation.

"I am soooo sorry about my Marvel drooling comment. Not that Marvel can actually drool, that would be taking anthropomorphism a bit too far. You know, the ability to anthropomorphize is quite an interesting human ability, especially with inanimate objects. I remember my first car. She was painted white, so I called her 'guera' which is Spanish slang for 'white girl'..." I trail off as I see Anna giving me a wide-eyed look like, 'Mayday! Mayday! The train is off the tracks! Elvis has left the building! Pardon me, but your crazy is showing!' Tom is also speechless, but I see a grin tugging at the corners of his oh-so-delicious-looking mouth.

It's Chris Pratt who saves me in a way that only Chris can do. It starts as a low chuckle, then Chris bursts into the most maniacal laugh that would rival every Disney villain ever imagined. "Oh, Mia, where have you been all my life?" Chris shouts. "I think you missed your calling. You should either switch to being a standup comedienne or a therapist, because you already know all the kinds of crazy that a person can be!"

My juvenile base brain kicks in, as it usually does when I'm mentally sparring with Chris. "Well, it takes one to know one, Pratty McPratter, mayor of Pratt town." I peek around the partition, and his face is entirely consumed in a grin. I mouth, 'Thank you!' and Chris winks conspiratorially at me.

Thankfully, Amy the Harried comes out of nowhere to announce, "Miss MacKenzie, there's a chair available now," to which I turn to my frienemies and say in my best Elvis voice, "Thank you, thank you very much. I'll be here until Thursday. Be sure to tip your waitresses" and walk away quickly.

No Prep for the Wicked

The chair I'm shown is just on the other side of Tom, but there is no partition between us. Just then, I recognize the prep crew from our movie set, Candace and Maggie. Thank Vishnu, I don't have two more people to embarrass myself with! I think.