Heart Beat

Clowning around

"So what do you look like? Red nose? Curly rainbow hair?" The voice was familiar, the sentiment unusual to say the least! Angie grinned.

"And a very good morning to you too, MR. Hiddleston," she said calmly. "I'll have you know I'm bald, 3 foot six, and have size ten feet. I drive a car with a squeaky horn, and I ALWAYS wear a flower that squirts water. Is there anything else you'd like to know?" If he wanted to play games, she was JUST in the mood.

They'd opened up prompt the next morning, the client from the day before anxious to get their head shots done, and now, going on for lunchtime, all was quiet on the Photography Front. Simon was busy developing that morning's shots, ready for the viewing the next day, and Angie was at the computer answering emails and avoiding the bills that seemed never-ending these days. Were they really paying for the whole of Islington's electricity? Seemed so.

She'd been chewing her pencil and doodling bundles of non-existent cash when the phone rang, making her drop the pencil and swear in fright.

"Language!" came a shout from the dark room

"Yes, Cap, Sorry, Cap!" she smirked back.

"Good morning..." she'd launched into the usual but had been interrupted.

"Is that Chuckle Brothers Incorporated?"

"Actually, no," she smiled broadly, hiding her embarrassment well, "It's Pierrot and Koko the Clown today. Can we help you?"

"Ahhh, my bad. So, oh accident prone one, how are we today? In one piece, or do I need to send an emergency team?"

The conversation hadn't really improved and ended up with the confession of the bald head and the size ten feet.

Eventually, though, Tom relented and laughed like a drain, asking, "So really, are you ok? I was quite worried, you know. It did sound like a sore one. I hope it wasn't serious?" he actually sounded like he cared, which in all honesty he probably did if his reputation was anything to go by.

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks. A wee cut and a rather large bump on the head, but other than my pride, nothing else damaged. I really am sorry about yesterday, I don't want you to think Simon is anything less than professional. It's me that's the idiot around here, Tom." she paused."I mean, sorry, Mr Hiddleston. I rest my case!" she sighed.

There was a low velvety chuckle from the other end of the line, and it went straight in her ear and settled somewhere around her stomach, making her bite her lip. "Tom, please, I think Mr Hiddleston disappeared the minute you shed blood for me, darling."

The way he said darling made the world stop. It was the most casual but intimate thing she'd ever heard. For a second, she paused, then physically shook her head - instantly regretting it. With a wince, she smiled. She wasn't going to let it go to her now spinning head. He was Tom Hiddleston, after all. She knew all about him. His charm, his grace, his sparkling blue - or were they green - eyes and his, oh boy yes, that behind.... nothing she couldn't deal with. Just another pretty face. And arse. Oh God!!!

"Are... are you there, love?" he said softly."Are you ok? Should you be at work?"

"Oh, sorry, yes, sorry. I'm ok, honestly. " she stammered a little. Get a grip woman! "So, dates, you're looking for dates. Any preference?"

"With you darling? Any time anywhere!" he grinned. She was fun. This was going to be fun. He needed that. Fun.

"MR Hiddleston! If you DONT mind, I am a professional!" she said in mock indignation, more as a defence against the fangirl meltdown going on in her head than anything else. How did he DO it!?