Ice Cold (Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction)

A Personal Encounter

I knew I would be most comfortable in Emily's trailer when I'm not needed, so I head back there. Mobs of actors and crew begin to fill the empty space between buildings, trailers, and tents.

Stepping into her cool trailer, I find Chris Hemsworth sitting nonchalantly on the little couch, which he's much to tall for. I become paralyzed with shyness standing before this blonde man. He, obviously, was unfazed by my appearance.

"Hi Jo!"

"Um, hey. Just stoping by." I reach for my stuff in the chair I left it in this morning, and I pull out my phone. I pretend to look through it to avoid social contact. He noticed my disinterest in conversation and instead turned on the little T.V., bolted to the corner. Chris flips through the channels, news, reality T.V., game show, news, weather, cartoons. He flips through another round, staying on the first news channel.

I look up, mistakenly. Chris took that as an invitation to speak.

"So you and Emily are awfully close, aren't you? I see you two together a lot."

"Oh? Oh! Yeah, we're pretty close. She's like my older sister. Helped me get through the early stages of filming. I really don't have any important job anyway."

"No! How would we get through the day without caffeine so early in the morning if it weren't for you."

I ease into conversation, "Thanks, at least you're not here sun up till sun down and then some." He chuckles and looks up at me from the couch, and I continue, "You and Tom are practically attached at the hip." I point out.

"Well he's like a brother to me. Tells me everything." He looks up again mischievously.

"What?" I inquire, suspicious of what he was hinting at.

"Nothing, why?"

"Never mind." I wave it away and turn back to my phone, still interested in the conversation. What does Tom tell you? I thought to myself. He turns away and focused his interest on the news.

Curiosity killed the cat, "What do you mean, he tells you everything?" Chris mutes the T.V. and sits upright, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Let's just say there's a certain someone, whose name I shall not reveal, that he has found an interest in." Chris slaps his knees and gets up. Walking past, he grabs my shoulder one-handed. "I'll leave it at that. Bye Jo, I'm going home now." Realizing the time I jump up, ready to get dinner, then realize that Emily has my car. Crap.

I leave the trailer anyway and walk over to Tom's. After knocking, he opens up, still in his casual outfit.

"Jo! What a lovely surprise. Come in?" He gestures inside.

"Thanks!" I step in. His trailer is the same layout as Chris', but it's set up differently. The couch sits right at the doorway, a mirror and dresser line the back. It's cleaner.

I make myself at home on his couch, propping my feet up on the cushions.

"I took your advice and cleaned a little." He closes the door and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "What brings you here?"

"I dunno. Emily's trailer was empty, she has my car, and I didn't want to be alone."

"Oh! Well you're welcome here anytime. Anything for a friend." He grins.

"Thanks, what do you do in here in your spare time? There's almost nothing in here."

"I read fan letters. Watch T.V. Sometimes I go over my line."

"Fan letters?" I asked, intrigued.

His impossible British accent flows, "All the time. You wouldn't believe how many I get daily."

"Try me." I sit forward. Tom goes to a little door and opens it, revealing clear trash bags filled with envelopes. I sit in awe at the mass horde of letters.

"Well?" His eye brows raise.

"Point taken." He pulls out a letter and opens it, clearing his throat.

" 'Dear Mr. Hiddleston (AKA McHottieson), I am a 17 year old girl from Denver, Colorado whose birthday is in 13 days. It would be super awesome if you could come as a surprise guest. THANKS! Kenna.' " We chuckle at the minimalism of the note together, and he sets it aside. "Just one of many from my fans. Would you like me to continue?"

"Sure," I laugh, excited to hear another.

" 'Tom. You have been there for me in the rough times. My parents divorce, my aunt's death, and my pet gone missing. Recently, my best friend committed suicide and I just know what to do. Please send advice because I am lost. Yours Truly, Amanda J.' " Tom's face droops a bit. "Well, I must say, that note was not as cheerful as the first." He sets that letter aside too. "I get those sometimes, but I never gets easier to deal with. I just learn to get over it."

"Hm." I reply.

"You said Chris left? It must be me my turn to film soon then. One sec." He excuses himself and steps out, leaving the door open. Almost as soon as he left, I hear his footsteps slapping the pavement just outside.

"Yes, I have to go now and get changed into my outfit. You're welcome to stay here if you like, or you can come watch the filming." He offers.

"I'll watch." I jump up to leave, and follow Tom out the door. Spotting the parking lot, I notice my car still missing. Great. Still, I walk to the set.

Everyone gets into place, costumes and make-up, and the director yells, "Action!" Tom moves around the set, growling at his actor counterparts as Loki. He glides across the floor, occasionally glancing in my direction slyly.

Soon, the director ordered everyone to leave, as we were done filming for the day. I leave, but Tom bolted to his trailer, eager to be rid of his uncomfortable costume. My car still isn't here.

I sit outside the set, waiting for Emily to arrive. The sky slowly turns from a deep orange, to a dark blue, signaling for night to come. As the sun goes down, a chill blows through the area and I huddle to myself.

A black car pulls quietly around the corner and stops in front of me. The darkened window slides down and a voice comes through.

"Do you need a ride Jo?" A British accent swims through the air towards me. I bend over to peer into the car.

"Oh, I'm waiting for Emily. She said she would have my car back by now but I haven't seen her."

"Jo it's freezing and dark. Please allow me to take you home. She should know that if you're not here, she will take your car to your home."

Uncertainly, I agree, "Ok." The car clicks to unlock the door and I step in. I rest my stuff in my lap, close the door, and rest my head on the headrest behind me, welcoming the comfort of the leather interior. It has been a long day. The digital clock on the dashboard reads 10:46. Ugh.

"Uh, Jo. Your address?" I spout of the numbers and street name and listen to him type it into his GPS. I then close my eyes and listen to classical music. We ride on in the dark for a while, and I crack my eyes open, Tom hasn't noticed. He has a closed mouth grin and nods his head gently to the music. I rest my hand on the console of the car and drift in and out of sleep.

What seemed like 2 minutes, was half an hour later and Tom gently shook my shoulder to wake me.

"Jo," His voice is soft, "We're here."

"Hm?" I yawn and stretch my legs trying to figure out my location. My apartment complex.

"Do you need me to walk you in? I'm not sure I trust you in this state." He breathes a chuckle and removes his hand.

"Yea sure." I reach into my purse and search for keys.

We walk together into the building, passing the secretary working the graveyard shift. He helps me up to the third floor, door 15C. I fumble for my keys and insert them into the lock, turning it, clicking the door open.

I sigh, "Thanks Tom." I rub my eyes.

"Anytime, love." He nods a goodbye and closes the door for me. I throw my things to the floor near the coat rack and flop onto my couch face first. I drift into a deep sleep, only knowing that I will repeat the routine again tomorrow.