Benedict Cumberbatch and the Nerd [Benedict Cumberbatch one shot]

Chapter 3 8 minutes 19 seconds

Day 3

A deep depression settled over me as the third day of my trip rolled around, today was my last day on the set, and to make matters worse I didn’t have enough money to take a cab. I suppose you are wondering what I spent the money on. Art, music, books on Shakespeare, perhaps? Well, um, okay I bought a million T-Shirts of Sherlock, one Doctor Who T-Shirt, and a purse with pictures of William and Kate on it, oh, oh and a Paddington Toy Bear. I sighed as I looked at the pile of T-Shirts on my bed. Maybe the front desk would be able to map out a public transportation route for me. As it turned out the set was only about 3 miles from my hotel, I think that is about 5 kilometers, sorry I must have been absent the day we covered the metric system. Okay, so with my umbrella in hand I set out to walk to the set. Even though the rain was coming down pretty hard, I didn’t mind. The wet cobble stone streets were quintessential London in my mind, after all wasn’t it rainy when Lucy entered the wardrobe into Narnia?

About half way to the set the charm of the rain had worn off and I was in a bad mood again. Now, dear reader, take some advice from me, never let the universe know you are having a bad day, because it will only get worse. Sometimes I think that Greek Mythology is really the way things are run and that the gods sit up there and laugh at our misfortunes. I was so immersed in my own thoughts that I barely noticed when a gust of wind jerked my umbrella out of my hands and into the street. I ran after it only to get there in time to see a bus run over it. I swear the guy did it on purpose. By the time I got to the set I was soaked. Someone from wardrobe met me at the entrance of set and took me off to a trailer to get a change of clothes. I would love to tell you that I fit perfectly into one of Louise Brealey’s outfits, but no such luck I am not very small. I finally ended up wearing a pair of sweats that I assumed one of the crew left behind. Wardrobe could have at least let me wear the coat. The coat, you ask? Yeah, you know the long, beautiful coat Sherlock wears. I didn’t see much of Benedict and by lunch time I was pretty bored.

Around noon hospitality sets out lunch. There are several long tables with sandwiches, fruit, stuff to drink, it’s buffet style so that the actors can come and go as they like. I grab a cheese sandwich and sit at one of the tables that are sheltered by a temporary canvas roof. I sit there about an hour, pathetically waiting for Benedict. He and Martin finally come and get some lunch. Benedict briefly waves to me and then he and Martin sit at another table, going over the script I guess. I watch them out of the corner of my eye, hoping for an invite. I don’t get an invite and other tables have begun to fill up with cast and crew. Suddenly, I am transported back to Junior High. Its lunch time and no one will sit with me. I only get noticed when a boy squirts me with a ketchup packet. Everyone laughs. A wave of sadness hits me in the gut so hard I feel like I’m going to throw up. I get up from the table and just like Junior High; I finally find a place to hide out. Okay, so in Junior High I would have sat there and cried. However, I’m an adult now, so I pulled out my e cigarette and let the nicotine course through my body.  Don’t let anyone fool you, there are some great things about being an adult, and I’m ashamed to say smoking and eating junk food for dinner and staying up late are just some of them. Well I was just about done with my e cig when Benedict came and sat on the steps to the trailer with me. Of course it’s his trailer I sitting in front of, he must think I’m some kind of freak. Without a word he starts smoking as well.

After a few inhales Benedict looks over at me. “Feeling better?”

I really am feeling quite relaxed. “Just capital, how about you?” I laugh.

Benedict smiled. “There is nothing quite like a cigarette.” He then blows out a plume of smoke.

I openly gawk. God, he even looks sexy, smoking a cigarette. Then out of the blue Benedict looks at me and says, “Charlotte, how do you feel about playing a dead body?”