Falling For You [Tom Hiddleston]

5

Claire's POV

I slipped out of Tom's large, warm bed at dawn, quietly getting dressed and silently padding down the stairs. Leaving him a brief note on the kitchen table, I couldn't shake this feeling that something was off, so after looking around the ground floor in the weak daylight I did a quick check outside - only to notice fresh gouges on the kitchen doorjamb.

Sighing, I made a mental note to break that gently to Luke when I had a chance to talk to him later today. Tom didn't even have a decent security system installed; I could've easily bypassed it even without a code. Despite the complications this was probably going to create for me, the fact that someone had actually attempted entry last night made me very glad Luke had contacted me; he was right when he'd said he thought he was in over his head.

Unlike the side door, the front door was unmarked, but it faced the street. I sifted through the mail, wondering if there would be another letter today; but when there wasn't anything suspicious, I decided to leave it for Luke and put it back as I'd found it. A glance at the clock reminded me I needed to get going, so I reset Tom's security system and locked the door behind myself, frowning again at how outdated his system was.

It was a beautiful London morning, if a bit chilly after the downpour last night. Spring was running late this year; it had been unseasonably cool the past few weeks, feeling more like late February than almost May. Having a little bit of time to myself to get my thoughts in order before jumping into my day was important to me; while I usually went for a morning run instead, a stroll was equally enjoyable.

I found my thoughts circling back to Tom many more times during the mile and half walk back to my apartment than I cared to admit. I didn't like leaving him the way I had, but it couldn't be helped; I had a job to do. I couldn't afford to allow myself to become distracted by Tom now, not when I was getting so close to having all the evidence I needed to lock Caleb, Owen and their whole crew away - hopefully for the rest of their lives.

The sun hadn't yet cleared the horizon when I jogged up the three flights of stairs to my small apartment, smiling to myself as I realized the whole thing would only take up two rooms of Tom's house. Letting myself in with my hidden key, I glanced around before replacing it in its hiding spot. I wasn't surprised to see that Caleb's men had left my purse sitting on the floor just inside the door where I wouldn't miss it - along with a wilted bouquet of red roses. I hated roses - especially red roses; they were so cliché.

I sighed and reluctantly picked them up, taking them into the little kitchenette to find something to put them in. My place was still bugged, so he'd find out if I just chucked them, so instead the stench of decaying roses constantly permeated the small space. The moment I walked into the kitchen I knew Caleb had had Owen search my flat again while I was gone. Things were just slightly enough out of place that it probably wouldn't be obvious to the casual observer - unless you knew what to look for, and I did; I hadn't become the youngest female Detective Inspector on the Met just by batting my eyelashes at the Chief.

It was a minor annoyance that Caleb still didn't completely trust me - or rather his cousin didn't. Owen's latest search just confirmed my suspicions, so it was fortunate that I'd taken the extra precautions of only having whatever 'Claire Campbell' should have at this apartment. Times like this I appreciated the department arranging my lodgings but the down side of being undercover for such long stretches was that after a couple months, I really started missing my own bed. The one at this apartment wasn't nearly as comfortable as my own - nor Tom's, for that matter. At least one night with him more than made up for all the less than pleasurable experiences I'd had to endure with my current mark.

The worst part was that I was after a fairly paranoid criminal - so therefore I was regularly followed by at least one of Caleb's minions. I hadn't even been back to my own house in over a month, relying on a close friend to check in on it for me occasionally and bring me my mail at work; I couldn't exactly forward Clarissa Kingsley's mail without blowing one of my best covers yet.