#like totally head over heels smitten down BAD for thomas

[sidneycarter]

love the idea that post The Situation thomas is just increasingly obtuse when it comes to jimmy's feelings.

so when one day mrs hughes mentions in passing at how much easier it is to handle james now he's settled down, thomas is incredibly confused. and a little bit heartbroken too of course.

it gets even stranger when on valentine's day alfred sulkily asks jimmy how many cards he's sent that year and jimmy merely shrugs and smirks. mrs patmore chastises them for gossiping and announces that surely, jimmy's only got one to be sending.

then one night, most of the staff are enjoying a rare night off in the pub. as usual, a host of pretty girls surround jimmy, and one particularly brave one asks jimmy if he's got any plans on one of his half days. jimmy throws her a cheeky wink and says "sorry, darling, but i'm spoken for."

thomas starts feeling really rather hurt. he's known all along that this would happen eventually - that jimmy would eventually move on and find a nice village lass, but it still stings to hear it. somehow, it hurts even more knowing that clearly jimmy has fallen for someone but he hasn't even told thomas.

thomas puts on a brave face and elbows daisy in the side. "d'ya hear that? jimmy's kept that quiet 'asn't he?"

daisy looks at him with a frown and cocks her head to the side. "well, not really--" but before she can say anything else she's swept up into the rowdy conversation of the table.

a few weeks later, thomas and jimmy are alone in the servants hall, with thomas reading the paper in his rocking chair and jimmy tapping out melodies on the piano. the tune he's playing is sweet and gentle, and thomas finds himself swaying his head along. as the song draws to a close, a gentle round of applause sounds from the doorway.

baxter stands smiling. "let me call you sweetheart is one of my favourites. it was beautiful, jimmy."

jimmy blushes prettily and stands, closing the piano lid. "thank you, mrs baxter. good night."

after he's gone from the room, baxter enters to fill herself a glass of water. she smiles fondly at thomas. "he's so smitten you know. head over heels." she rolls her eyes affectionately.

it takes months until thomas finally figures out the truth of what's going on. well, to say he figures it out is somewhat generous.

he's in the servants hall again, this time feeling a little despondent with a cup of tea. jimmy had gone to the pictures with alfred of all people, their friendship seemingly improved since jimmy's given up on chasing ivy's skirt. thomas is resolutely not waiting up to make sure jimmy gets home safe. anna is the only other person still up, and she sits opposite thomas stitching one of lady mary's hemlines in companionable silence.

thomas dwells on his own thoughts for a while, until anna rests her sewing on the table and fixes him with a worried look. "are you quite alright, mr barrow?"

"hm? oh, yes anna, i'm very well thank you." he takes a sip of his tea to hide his moue.

anna looks unconvinced. "thomas," she says seriously, "is it-- have you and jimmy had a falling out?"

that genuinely surprises thomas. for all his worry and sadness over jimmy's as yet unknown love interest, they'd never fallen out. "no, no, of course not. he's just busy, that's all, which is to be expected now he's, you know," thomas waves his cup vaguely in the air, "courting the mystery lady."

anna chokes on a laugh. "the mystery lady?"

"yes. he's-- he's courting someone, isn't he? everyone keeps saying that he's... or suggesting that he's taken with someone." Thomas adds somewhat bitterly, "seems quite serious if you ask me. not that he's told me anything about it of course."

anna stops giggling and looks at him oddly. "thomas you-- you can't mean--"

"-- do you know who she is, anna?" thomas interrupts a little desperately. he's becoming tired of it all and he just wants to know-- how bad it is, for how long he's going to have to tend to his broken heart.

"thomas. thomas, jimmy's sweetheart is-- well, it's you."

"me?" thomas has a brief, sickening memory of his feelings before, and how miss o'brien toyed with them so badly. but he knows in his gut, that anna would never, and could never do that. he knows she's being honest, as confusing and terrifying as the statement may be.

"yes." anna smiles. "he's like a little puppy when he's with you. surely you've noticed? he gazes at you with stars in his eyes. he wants to do everything you do, and it seems like every other conversation is all about what you've been telling him this week. he only ever plays love songs on the piano when you're in the room. he laughs at all your jokes and he's not even glanced in the direction of a girl since last year." anna shakes her head. "i thought you knew and were just letting him get used to it."

"no i didn't -- i didn't know, i thought," thomas can feel himself blushing, "i don't know what i thought."

anna stands with a stifled yawn. "you make each other very happy. if you really didn't know, i think you ought to talk to him. good night, mr barrow."

"good night anna. and thank you."

thomas is left in the still and quiet of the room, watching the steam spiral up from his cup. a private and hopeful smile spreads across his face. yes, he thinks, nodding his head, perhaps we should talk.

#thommy #thomas barrow #jimmy kent #downton abbey #sorry what even is this #this is completely unproofread written in one sitting in lapslock #my apologies #thank u to freya for listening to me rant about this concept before telling me to actually write it out #just them being cute #them being in love #im so obsessed with the idea of jimmy being obsessed #like totally head over heels smitten down BAD for thomas #and thomas being like :))) we are friends now and i am happy with this situation i will never ask for any more #obviously he's hiding his neverending jimmy feels #but he's just :))) that theyre in cahoots now #meanwhile jimmy is like #crumbling because he's so in love #and everyone else around them is like ummmmmm could u be more obvious #like we're not even shocked anymore #0 people are surprised #fic #im tagging this fic but idk why because it isnt really its wordvom

[winterisakiller]

Get Better - Chapter Fifteen

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 15/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between.

Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for being an absolute godsend in regards to this story. I would truly be dead in the water without you.

Alright we are getting closer to the end now, just two more chapters after this. 

This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri​ @theheartofpenelope​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @noplacelikehome77​ @blacksuitofdoom​ @wolfsmom1​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @just-the-hiddles​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @messy-insomniac-bookgirl​  @echantedbytwh

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 “You say nothing happened but you and I both know that is bullshit,” Lorna pointed out knowingly as she and Cath straightened up their respective stations. “Nothing doesn’t cause you to turn a brilliant shade of crimson.”

 Cath kept her head down, her attention acutely focused on the set of brushes sitting before her. She’d been attempting to dodge this line of questioning for the last few hours, with varying degrees of success. After the almost kiss (because Cath had known Tom was going to kiss her like she’s known the back of her hand) had been abruptly cancelled, Tom had taken his coffee from the tray in Zawe’s hands and all but dashed out of the room at the timely ring of his mobile. Bobby had barked a few times in hopes of gaining attention before seeming to give up and curling on his bed in the corner of the room, watching the remaining inhabitants with wide, dark eyes.

 Lorna and Zawe had shared twin looks of shared understanding as they watched Tom dart from the room and had pounced on Cath once they were alone. They peppered her with question after question after question, barely allowing her a word in edgewise. Cath had done her best to deflect, repeating over and over that nothing had happened save her thanking him for his thoughtful gift. Which of course they’d insisted on seeing. The look which spread across Lorna’s face spoke volumes.

 “Shit,” Lorna murmured. It took her a moment to recover and a wide grin flashed across her features. “Not into you my ass.”

 Zawe had taken the book from Lorna’s hands and studied it, a knowing look on her face. “This is quite an early edition.” She opened it to its title page and her eyes goggled. “Cath, darling, I think this is a first edition.”

 It was Cath’s turn to stare in disbelief. She quickly snatched the book back. “No, it can’t be. That’s insane.” And it was. Why on earth would be possibly spend that much money on a book for her? This was the kind of thing you gave a family member…Or a lover. So why had he given such a thing to her? Because he likes you, even if he’s utter shit at it, she chided herself.

 And he was utter shit at it; burning hot then cold with her until she couldn’t determine just where he stood. Gods above, he was frustrating. She stared blankly at the book in her hands. The urge to shove it back at him, regardless of how rude the gesture would be, washed through her. She couldn’t, couldn’t accept this in all good faith. Even if he could afford it (she had no proper idea just how well off Tom was, but reason told her it was quite) the meaning behind such a gift...

 “Boy is quite smitten when it comes to you,” Lorna pointed out, a note of awe in her tone. “And if you say this is something a just friend would get you as a gift, I swear to god I’ll string you up by your toenails.”

 With clearly no way out of the conversation, Cath went with the tried and true method of distraction. She rounded on Zawe, smiling. “So what time is the surprise get-together you totally aren’t planning for my birthday?”

 Zawe gaped at her and Cath burst into a fit of laughter.

 “I…Um…” Zawe stammered, waving her hands as she searched for words.

 “You are not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are,” Cath added, between giggles. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and she hoped to god this would work. She couldn’t take any more of Lorna’s pestering.

 Lorna, however, snorted a laugh. “Neither are you, my dear.” She shot a pointed look at Cath. “Anyone with eyes can see you’re head over heels about our young Thomas there.”

 Well shit. That had backfired unexpectedly. Cath ignored the smug grin that spread across Lorna’s face and took deep breath. “Whatever I feel or don’t feel has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that someone,” she shot a pointed, but amused, glare at Zawe, “is plotting a surprise party that I most definitely do not need.”

 A smirk painted across Lorna’s face. “So you do feel something then.”

 “Lorna…”

 “Your words, Cath,” Lorna quipped back. “You and I both know you like the man. More than like if we’re being completely honest. And I know you are reluctant to push…But girl sometimes you just need to go for it.”

 “We are not talking about this because there is nothing to talk about.”

 And there wasn’t anything to discuss, not yet. Not when Cath was so uncertain of just what was happening between her and Tom. If anything was happening. That Tom felt something for her…even just in the physical sense, was becoming clear. But attraction didn’t necessarily mean anything more than that. His blowing hot and cold with her, his frustrating advance and retreat only muddled the playing field to the point Cath wasn’t sure it was even worth pursuing.

 All that she knew was the conversation needed to end, and now. Tom had left but that didn’t mean he couldn’t or wouldn’t return any moment. If he overheard…

 Cath took a deep breath. “Can we just, please, leave it be?”

 Lorna opened her mouth, a witty retort no doubt on her lips, when a thunder of steps echoed from the hall. A moment later Charlie popped his head into the dressing room. He glanced between Cath, Lorna, and Zawe. “Am I interrupting?”

 “No, not at all.” Cath answered, a bright, though forced, smile on her face.

 He smiled as he made his way into the room, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it onto the back of a chair. He opened his arms and pulled Cath into a quick hug. “Happy birthday, Cath.”

 “Thank you.”

 Behind them Bobby barked once, determined to his presence known. Laughter erupted from the group, breaking the tension between them. The spaniel hopped from his basket and sniffled at Charlie’s feet. Laughing, Charlie shook his head and dropped to his knee. He scratched Bobby affectionately behind the ears, letting the spaniel lick at his face. “And just where has your human run off to?”

 “Phone call,” Cath answered, turning and busying herself with the brushes at her station. God help her if Zawe or Lorna chimed in.

 “Seemed urgent, the way he tore out of here,” Lorna added.

 Cath swore under her breath. Lorna just couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Do we really need to gossip about our coworkers behind their backs?”

 “Who said anything about gossiping? I was merely stating a fact. He darted out right after the phone rang, which points to it being rather urgent.” Cath could hear the smirk in her tone. “Now if you want to talk about gossip…”

 “Let’s not and call it a day, shall we?” Cath cut in, turning back to face Lorna, her eyes narrowing.

 Charlie clapped his hands together. “Okay, I’ve clearly missed something.”

 “It’s nothing,” Cath responded. “Just a bit of a disagreement over intention. Nothing to worry yourself over.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was just past three. “Don’t you and Zawe need to be stage side warming up?”

 “Alright then. I can tell when I’ve been dismissed,” Charlie sighed, turning towards Zawe. “Well darling, shall we?”

 Zawe shot a knowing glare at Cath before nodding at Charlie. “We shall. See you ladies in a bit.”

 Once they had cleared the room, Cath turned her attention to Bobby, who returned to his bed, dark eyes wide and watching. “Hello there, handsome.” She reached her hand towards him and allowed him to sniff her twice before he licked her palm. She could hear Lorna behind her, moving items around on her station top and waited for the wave of questions and insinuations to start once more.

 To her surprise they didn’t and the two (three if you counted Bobby) passed the remaining time before the three actors returned for costumes and make-up in relative silence. Lorna did, however, shoot her knowing looks as Cath powdered Tom’s face. It was almost worse, the lack of prodding and the knowing glances. Lorna was thinking and, as Cath had come to learn all too well over the years they’d known each other and had worked together, a thinking Lorna was a dangerous Lorna.

 The universe righted itself, however, once the three actors had taken the stage. Lorna had the decency to wait until the dressing room door had closed behind a lingering Zawe before pouncing. “Is now an acceptable time to discuss this non-relationship relationship you and Tom are in?”

 “For fuck’s sake, Lorn, there is nothing going on between Tom and me. Nothing.”

 “Have you told him that? Because between the looks he gives you when he thinks no one’s watching, the way he talks about you nonstop, and that book he gave you today, it’s not hard to see he’s got it bad.” Lorna shot her a pointed look. “And you aren’t exactly subtle either, at least not to anyone who actually knows you. So why all the denial?”

 “There is no denial, Lorn,” Cath stressed, locking her eyes with Lorna’s. “He is a friend and that is where it ends. End of story.”

 Lorna shook her head, “I don’t believe that for a second. Especially not after the way I saw you look at him and he you this afternoon. That book is not something you give just a friend.”

 Cath let out a deep breath and turned her attention back to cleaning her brushes. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”

 “You say nothing happened but you and I both know that is bullshit. Nothing doesn’t cause you to turn a brilliant shade of crimson,” Lorna pointed out, dropping her clean brushes on the station tabletop. “Just be honest with me.”

 “Nothing happened. I gave him a hug in thanks that is it.” She didn’t turn to meet Lorna’s eyes, keeping her focus on the station before her. Why wouldn’t Lorna just leave it alone? It was hard enough trying to navigate the confusing mess between herself and Tom as it was. Lorna’s constant need to prod only made it worse.

 “I love you to death, Cath my dear, but I know you’re not telling me the whole truth.”

 Bobby’s sudden, urgent bark broke the silence that had fallen. He bounced up from his doggy bed and paced in quick, furious circles. “Shit,” Cath muttered. “I’ve got to take him out lest he messes the flooring.”

 Without another word she darted for the lead Tom had left draped over the edge of one of the chairs in the corner and quickly hooked it to Bobby’s collar. She and the spaniel sped down the stairs and out the stage door, heading towards his preferred light pole down the street. Bobby quickly did his business and, ignoring the small throng of people standing near the stage door who watched them with interest, allowed himself to be lead back into the theatre by Cath.

 She paused on the stairs, ignoring Bobby’s attempts to pull her back up and towards the dressing room. Cath knew Lorna wasn’t about to give up and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the firing squad once more. But there was little choice in the matter. Hiding down here would only work so long. The show was at least half way over by this point and sooner rather than later, she’d be needed to help with make-up removal and costume organization. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cath jogged up the remaining stairs, Bobby beside her.

 Lorna was settled in the chair before her station when Cath and Bobby made their way back into the dressing room. Wordlessly, Cath knelt and unhooked the spaniel’s lead, patting him affectionately on the rump as he darted back to his bed in the corner. She took her time hanging the lead back up over the edge of the chair.

 Behind her, Lorna cleared her throat. “Cath, I’m not trying to be a pain in the arse…”

 “Well you’re doing a good impression of one.”

 “I’ll let that slide,” Lorna countered, “because you are my friend and despite how frustrating you can be, I love you. But honestly, Cath, why are you fighting this so hard? I get that you’re worried about what could happen if things go pear-shaped, believe me I do. But this is Tom we are talking about. He is one of the least assholish men I’ve ever met…Not that he can’t have his moments…” she countered with a smile. “But I doubt he’d make your life a living hell if you tried something and it didn’t work.”

 Cath sighed, “It’s not as cut and dry as you seem to think.” So much had happened that Lorna didn’t know. So much that she, herself, had tried her best to ignore. Not that ignoring helped the matter any.

 “Oh now?” She heard the chair creak and Lorna’s footfalls on the floor coming towards her. “Do elaborate.”

 She turned to face Lorna, hands crossed at her chest. “You say Tom is so obvious in his manner. That it’s clear what he wants. Well it’s not. Not at all.”

 Lorna rolled her eyes in what was clearly exasperation and carried on. “It looks pretty clear to me. He’s smitten and all you have to do is try talking…”

 The kiss and that next afternoon flashed through Cath’s mind. The feel of his hands on her shoulders, her back. The warmth of his lips on hers. The taste of the whiskey he’d drunk on his tongue as it tangled with hers. Cath rubbed her forehead and let out a frustrated groan. “I’ve fucking TRIED, Lorn. And I’ve never fucking seen anyone back pedal that quickly!”

 Lorna’s eyes widened at her outburst. “What now?”

 “He kissed me that night we went drinking and he walked me to a taxi. He bloody kissed me and then turned around the next day and called it a fucking mistake! And then he blows hot and cold and I don’t fucking know how to read him anymore!” Cath dropped herself onto the chair at her station, resting her elbows on the smooth countertop. “So no, Lorn, he is not so bloody obvious to me!”

 “Well fuck me,” Lorna blurted, shaking her head, “you kept that right quiet!”

 Cath sighed, rubbing her temples with the thumb and pinky of her right hand, “What would have been the point of making a huge production of it? He’d made his choice and the only thing I could do was live with it.”

 “But…”

 “Don’t Lorn, okay. Please just don’t. It’s hard enough just trying to keep things with him straight I don’t need you pushing and pressing me as well.”

 Lorna offered her a sympathetic smiled and nodded.

                                                           —

 Tom waved one last time at the crowd of people still waiting at the stage door of the Harold Pinter Theatre. Charlie and Zawe had made their way inside a few minutes prior, leaving him to pose and sign for the last few people on his own. He capped his sharpie, shoving it thoughtlessly in the pocket of his jeans, and headed through the stage door, security following closely behind. He was tired; his hand and jaw ached and he would give just about anything to crawl into his nice, warm bed and stay for at least a fortnight.

 He took the stairs two at a time, the thought of a warm cup of tea and mindless hours sitting on his couch hurrying his pace. As he rounded the last few steps towards the dressing room he could hear Bobby barking and darting around the room. He paused and smiled softly to himself. The spaniel had been restless before he’d left to head on stage, jumping at his heels and darting between himself and Cath. Tom had done his best to calm Bobby, but it was clear something had happened between the time he’d darted (and he couldn’t in good conscious think of it as anything else) from the room earlier that afternoon and his return an hour or so later.

 Cath had been…off as well, though he couldn’t quite place his finger on why. No, he thought with a quiet sigh, that is a bloody lie. He knew very well why. He’d only gone and very nearly kissed her once more. And then he’d gone and darted off like the coward he was. It was little wonder she’d been so hesitant with him before the show and even more so when he’d returned after to change and clean up before heading outside with Charlie and Zawe. She hadn’t been overtly cold towards him but had very much kept herself apart from him; giving one or two word answers to his questions and only making eye contact when it was absolutely necessary.

 Her distance stung but Tom knew he only had himself to blame. Once again he’d leapt without looking and pushed at boundaries he clearly had no right to cross. Not anymore. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a coward before…He shook the thought away. There was little he could do about any of it now.

 Steeling himself, Tom took the last few steps into the dressing room. Bobby was running right circles around a softly smiling Cath. Sensing Tom’s presence, the spaniel skidded to a halt, turned and darted towards his master.

 “Hello Bobster, ready to head home?”

 Bobby barked once.

 Tom scratched the spaniel affectionately behind the ears before raising his gaze towards Cath. “Thank you again, for watching him. I know he can be a right handful.”

 She offered him a tight-lipped smile before turning abruptly on her heel and digging through her purse. Tom watched in confusion as she pulled the book he’d given her from it and thrust it back in his direction. “I can’t accept this.”

 He blinked in bewilderment, reaching out automatically to take it from her shaking hand. “Cath…I don’t understand…I thought you…” he stammered, trying desperately to find the right words to phrase his lack of understanding. She’d loved the book when he first handed to it her. Her abrupt about face confused him.

 “Why did you give me that, Tom?” She didn’t wait for his answer, plowing on as though she hadn’t asked him the question in the first place. “It’s a bloody first edition for Christ’s sake! It’s ridiculously expensive and completely inappropriate and I can’t accept it.”

 “But it wasn’t!” he shouted back, startling Bobby, who let out a yelp of alarm and darted back towards his bed. Tom took a deep breath. “It wasn’t,” he repeated again, calmly. “I found it in a charity shop near Notting Hill for next to nothing. I didn’t even know it was first edition until after I took it home.” It had been just as much a shock to him as anyone. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when it was so bloody perfect. “But that doesn’t matter. I saw it and I knew it was yours. I knew I needed to give it to you.”

 “It does matter, Tom! Of course it bloody matters!” She all but hissed at him. Her green eyes were wide and her expression harried. “People don’t go around gifting coworkers with bloody first editions! That is not bloody logical!”

 Tom tensed, not understanding why she was refusing to accept something so freely given. She’d been so ridiculously happy when she’d first opened the book, why did knowing what edition it was change any of that? It’s not as if he’d gone out and spent a ruddy fortune on it. He’d found it completely by accident and spent next to nothing on it. “Why can’t you just accept it?” He pleaded, his own ire growing. “I gave you that book because I knew you’d love it. I knew how much it bloody meant to you! Why on earth does it matter where I got the damned thing or how much I bloody paid for it? It’s a gift! The rest doesn’t matter!”

 Cath whirled on him, eyes blazing. “It matters, Tom!” She threw her hands up into the air in exasperation. “Why are you so fucking blind to how much it fucking matters?!”

 “I…I don’t understand,” Tom stammered, a cold dread flooded him. Whatever was happening, and he was beginning to think he had the wrong end of the stick, he’d clearly misjudged the situation. And badly.

 She let out a frustrated bark of a laugh. “You never bloody do.” Cath took a deep breath, crossing her arms at her chest. “I’m tired Tom. I can’t keep doing,” she waved a hand vaguely between them, “whatever this is happening with you and I. You need to figure out what it is you want and then stick with it. Because I can’t take the back and forth anymore. If you want me, bloody say it. If you don’t just say it. Fucking hell, just do something because this hot and cold with you is driving me around the bend and I am just tired. Just please, for both of our sakes, make up your goddamned mind.”

 Tom blinked as her words slowly sank in. He watched as her eyes darkened in time with her features. He could feel the frustration radiating from her in waves and fought the urge to reach forward and take her hands in his; doing so would only serve to anger her more. And he’d apparently done more than enough of that. Beside him he could hear Bobby’s impatient whining though it seemed far away.

 Ben’s pleas from weeks ago to simply just sit and talk with her flooded through his mind. His friend had been right. Of fucking course he was, Tom thought bitterly. If he had been smarter…Or indeed braver, he would have taken Cath aside and done his utmost best to explain then and there what was going on with him. And maybe she would have understood. Maybe she wouldn’t have. But he would know either way.

 Now…Now Tom knew if he didn’t at least try to talk with her, to let her know all of the jumbled and mess-up contradictory thoughts in his mind, he would lose her. Not just as a potential something but as a friend. And that…That thought terrified him.

 “You’re right,” Tom heard himself start, his voice thin and wary. He watched as she tensed before him, waiting for whatever he said next. Her arms remained tightly crossed at her chest, eyes lowered but determined, face carefully blank. “I need to talk about…this…About us. I should have done it a long time ago. But I didn’t and that…That is on me. And I know I don’t have any right asking this of you and you have every right to tell me no. But I want to try to explain…To talk. Can you…Can you let me do that? Would you come with me so I can try?”

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

[winterisakillerwrites]

Get Better - Chapter Fifteen

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 15/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between.

Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for being an absolute godsend in regards to this story. I would truly be dead in the water without you.

Previous

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“You say nothing happened but you and I both know that is bullshit,” Lorna pointed out knowingly as she and Cath straightened up their respective stations. “Nothing doesn’t cause you to turn a brilliant shade of crimson.”

Cath kept her head down, her attention acutely focused on the set of brushes sitting before her. She’d been attempting to dodge this line of questioning for the last few hours, with varying degrees of success. After the almost kiss (because Cath had known Tom was going to kiss her like she’s known the back of her hand) had been abruptly cancelled, Tom had taken his coffee from the tray in Zawe’s hands and all but dashed out of the room at the timely ring of his mobile. Bobby had barked a few times in hopes of gaining attention before seeming to give up and curling on his bed in the corner of the room, watching the remaining inhabitants with wide, dark eyes.

Lorna and Zawe had shared twin looks of shared understanding as they watched Tom dart from the room and had pounced on Cath once they were alone. They peppered her with question after question after question, barely allowing her a word in edgewise. Cath had done her best to deflect, repeating over and over that nothing had happened save her thanking him for his thoughtful gift. Which of course they’d insisted on seeing. The look which spread across Lorna’s face spoke volumes.

“Shit,” Lorna murmured. It took her a moment to recover and a wide grin flashed across her features. “Not into you my ass.”

Zawe had taken the book from Lorna’s hands and studied it, a knowing look on her face. “This is quite an early edition.” She opened it to its title page and her eyes goggled. “Cath, darling, I think this is a first edition.”

It was Cath’s turn to stare in disbelief. She quickly snatched the book back. “No, it can’t be. That’s insane.” And it was. Why on earth would be possibly spend that much money on a book for her? This was the kind of thing you gave a family member…Or a lover. So why had he given such a thing to her? Because he likes you, even if he’s utter shit at it, she chided herself.

And he was utter shit at it; burning hot then cold with her until she couldn’t determine just where he stood. Gods above, he was frustrating. She stared blankly at the book in her hands. The urge to shove it back at him, regardless of how rude the gesture would be, washed through her. She couldn’t, couldn’t accept this in all good faith. Even if he could afford it (she had no proper idea just how well off Tom was, but reason told her it was quite) the meaning behind such a gift…

“Boy is quite smitten when it comes to you,” Lorna pointed out, a note of awe in her tone. “And if you say this is something a just friend would get you as a gift, I swear to god I’ll string you up by your toenails.”

With clearly no way out of the conversation, Cath went with the tried and true method of distraction. She rounded on Zawe, smiling. “So what time is the surprise get-together you totally aren’t planning for my birthday?”

Zawe gaped at her and Cath burst into a fit of laughter.

“I…Um…” Zawe stammered, waving her hands as she searched for words.

“You are not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are,” Cath added, between giggles. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and she hoped to god this would work. She couldn’t take any more of Lorna’s pestering.

Lorna, however, snorted a laugh. “Neither are you, my dear.” She shot a pointed look at Cath. “Anyone with eyes can see you’re head over heels about our young Thomas there.”

Well shit. That had backfired unexpectedly. Cath ignored the smug grin that spread across Lorna’s face and took deep breath. “Whatever I feel or don’t feel has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that someone,” she shot a pointed, but amused, glare at Zawe, “is plotting a surprise party that I most definitely do not need.”

A smirk painted across Lorna’s face. “So you do feel something then.”

“Lorna…”

“Your words, Cath,” Lorna quipped back. “You and I both know you like the man. More than like if we’re being completely honest. And I know you are reluctant to push…But girl sometimes you just need to go for it.”

“We are not talking about this because there is nothing to talk about.”

And there wasn’t anything to discuss, not yet. Not when Cath was so uncertain of just what was happening between her and Tom. If anything was happening. That Tom felt something for her…even just in the physical sense, was becoming clear. But attraction didn’t necessarily mean anything more than that. His blowing hot and cold with her, his frustrating advance and retreat only muddled the playing field to the point Cath wasn’t sure it was even worth pursuing.

All that she knew was the conversation needed to end, and now. Tom had left but that didn’t mean he couldn’t or wouldn’t return any moment. If he overheard…

Cath took a deep breath. “Can we just, please, leave it be?”

Lorna opened her mouth, a witty retort no doubt on her lips, when a thunder of steps echoed from the hall. A moment later Charlie popped his head into the dressing room. He glanced between Cath, Lorna, and Zawe. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” Cath answered, a bright, though forced, smile on her face.

He smiled as he made his way into the room, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it onto the back of a chair. He opened his arms and pulled Cath into a quick hug. “Happy birthday, Cath.”

“Thank you.”

Behind them Bobby barked once, determined to his presence known. Laughter erupted from the group, breaking the tension between them. The spaniel hopped from his basket and sniffled at Charlie’s feet. Laughing, Charlie shook his head and dropped to his knee. He scratched Bobby affectionately behind the ears, letting the spaniel lick at his face. “And just where has your human run off to?”

“Phone call,” Cath answered, turning and busying herself with the brushes at her station. God help her if Zawe or Lorna chimed in.

“Seemed urgent, the way he tore out of here,” Lorna added.

Cath swore under her breath. Lorna just couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Do we really need to gossip about our coworkers behind their backs?”

“Who said anything about gossiping? I was merely stating a fact. He darted out right after the phone rang, which points to it being rather urgent.” Cath could hear the smirk in her tone. “Now if you want to talk about gossip…”

“Let’s not and call it a day, shall we?” Cath cut in, turning back to face Lorna, her eyes narrowing.

Charlie clapped his hands together. “Okay, I’ve clearly missed something.”

“It’s nothing,” Cath responded. “Just a bit of a disagreement over intention. Nothing to worry yourself over.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was just past three. “Don’t you and Zawe need to be stage side warming up?”

“Alright then. I can tell when I’ve been dismissed,” Charlie sighed, turning towards Zawe. “Well darling, shall we?”

Zawe shot a knowing glare at Cath before nodding at Charlie. “We shall. See you ladies in a bit.”

Once they had cleared the room, Cath turned her attention to Bobby, who returned to his bed, dark eyes wide and watching. “Hello there, handsome.” She reached her hand towards him and allowed him to sniff her twice before he licked her palm. She could hear Lorna behind her, moving items around on her station top and waited for the wave of questions and insinuations to start once more.

To her surprise they didn’t and the two (three if you counted Bobby) passed the remaining time before the three actors returned for costumes and make-up in relative silence. Lorna did, however, shoot her knowing looks as Cath powdered Tom’s face. It was almost worse, the lack of prodding and the knowing glances. Lorna was thinking and, as Cath had come to learn all too well over the years they’d known each other and had worked together, a thinking Lorna was a dangerous Lorna.

The universe righted itself, however, once the three actors had taken the stage. Lorna had the decency to wait until the dressing room door had closed behind a lingering Zawe before pouncing. “Is now an acceptable time to discuss this non-relationship relationship you and Tom are in?”

“For fuck’s sake, Lorn, there is nothing going on between Tom and me. Nothing.”

“Have you told him that? Because between the looks he gives you when he thinks no one’s watching, the way he talks about you nonstop, and that book he gave you today, it’s not hard to see he’s got it bad.” Lorna shot her a pointed look. “And you aren’t exactly subtle either, at least not to anyone who actually knows you. So why all the denial?”

“There is no denial, Lorn,” Cath stressed, locking her eyes with Lorna’s. “He is a friend and that is where it ends. End of story.”

Lorna shook her head, “I don’t believe that for a second. Especially not after the way I saw you look at him and he you this afternoon. That book is not something you give just a friend.”

Cath let out a deep breath and turned her attention back to cleaning her brushes. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”

“You say nothing happened but you and I both know that is bullshit. Nothing doesn’t cause you to turn a brilliant shade of crimson,” Lorna pointed out, dropping her clean brushes on the station tabletop. “Just be honest with me.”

“Nothing happened. I gave him a hug in thanks that is it.” She didn’t turn to meet Lorna’s eyes, keeping her focus on the station before her. Why wouldn’t Lorna just leave it alone? It was hard enough trying to navigate the confusing mess between herself and Tom as it was. Lorna’s constant need to prod only made it worse.

“I love you to death, Cath my dear, but I know you’re not telling me the whole truth.”

Bobby’s sudden, urgent bark broke the silence that had fallen. He bounced up from his doggy bed and paced in quick, furious circles. “Shit,” Cath muttered. “I’ve got to take him out lest he messes the flooring.”

Without another word she darted for the lead Tom had left draped over the edge of one of the chairs in the corner and quickly hooked it to Bobby’s collar. She and the spaniel sped down the stairs and out the stage door, heading towards his preferred light pole down the street. Bobby quickly did his business and, ignoring the small throng of people standing near the stage door who watched them with interest, allowed himself to be lead back into the theatre by Cath.

She paused on the stairs, ignoring Bobby’s attempts to pull her back up and towards the dressing room. Cath knew Lorna wasn’t about to give up and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the firing squad once more. But there was little choice in the matter. Hiding down here would only work so long. The show was at least half way over by this point and sooner rather than later, she’d be needed to help with make-up removal and costume organization. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cath jogged up the remaining stairs, Bobby beside her.

Lorna was settled in the chair before her station when Cath and Bobby made their way back into the dressing room. Wordlessly, Cath knelt and unhooked the spaniel’s lead, patting him affectionately on the rump as he darted back to his bed in the corner. She took her time hanging the lead back up over the edge of the chair.

Behind her, Lorna cleared her throat. “Cath, I’m not trying to be a pain in the arse…”

“Well you’re doing a good impression of one.”

“I’ll let that slide,” Lorna countered, “because you are my friend and despite how frustrating you can be, I love you. But honestly, Cath, why are you fighting this so hard? I get that you’re worried about what could happen if things go pear-shaped, believe me I do. But this is Tom we are talking about. He is one of the least assholish men I’ve ever met…Not that he can’t have his moments…” she countered with a smile. “But I doubt he’d make your life a living hell if you tried something and it didn’t work.”

Cath sighed, “It’s not as cut and dry as you seem to think.” So much had happened that Lorna didn’t know. So much that she, herself, had tried her best to ignore. Not that ignoring helped the matter any.

“Oh now?” She heard the chair creak and Lorna’s footfalls on the floor coming towards her. “Do elaborate.”

She turned to face Lorna, hands crossed at her chest. “You say Tom is so obvious in his manner. That it’s clear what he wants. Well it’s not. Not at all.”

Lorna rolled her eyes in what was clearly exasperation and carried on. “It looks pretty clear to me. He’s smitten and all you have to do is try talking…”

The kiss and that next afternoon flashed through Cath’s mind. The feel of his hands on her shoulders, her back. The warmth of his lips on hers. The taste of the whiskey he’d drunk on his tongue as it tangled with hers. Cath rubbed her forehead and let out a frustrated groan. “I’ve fucking TRIED, Lorn. And I’ve never fucking seen anyone back pedal that quickly!”

Lorna’s eyes widened at her outburst. “What now?”

“He kissed me that night we went drinking and he walked me to a taxi. He bloody kissed me and then turned around the next day and called it a fucking mistake! And then he blows hot and cold and I don’t fucking know how to read him anymore!” Cath dropped herself onto the chair at her station, resting her elbows on the smooth countertop. “So no, Lorn, he is not so bloody obvious to me!”

“Well fuck me,” Lorna blurted, shaking her head, “you kept that right quiet!”

Cath sighed, rubbing her temples with the thumb and pinky of her right hand, “What would have been the point of making a huge production of it? He’d made his choice and the only thing I could do was live with it.”

“But…”

“Don’t Lorn, okay. Please just don’t. It’s hard enough just trying to keep things with him straight I don’t need you pushing and pressing me as well.”

Lorna offered her a sympathetic smiled and nodded.

                                                         —

Tom waved one last time at the crowd of people still waiting at the stage door of the Harold Pinter Theatre. Charlie and Zawe had made their way inside a few minutes prior, leaving him to pose and sign for the last few people on his own. He capped his sharpie, shoving it thoughtlessly in the pocket of his jeans, and headed through the stage door, security following closely behind. He was tired; his hand and jaw ached and he would give just about anything to crawl into his nice, warm bed and stay for at least a fortnight.

He took the stairs two at a time, the thought of a warm cup of tea and mindless hours sitting on his couch hurrying his pace. As he rounded the last few steps towards the dressing room he could hear Bobby barking and darting around the room. He paused and smiled softly to himself. The spaniel had been restless before he’d left to head on stage, jumping at his heels and darting between himself and Cath. Tom had done his best to calm Bobby, but it was clear something had happened between the time he’d darted (and he couldn’t in good conscious think of it as anything else) from the room earlier that afternoon and his return an hour or so later.

Cath had been…off as well, though he couldn’t quite place his finger on why. No, he thought with a quiet sigh, that is a bloody lie. He knew very well why. He’d only gone and very nearly kissed her once more. And then he’d gone and darted off like the coward he was. It was little wonder she’d been so hesitant with him before the show and even more so when he’d returned after to change and clean up before heading outside with Charlie and Zawe. She hadn’t been overtly cold towards him but had very much kept herself apart from him; giving one or two word answers to his questions and only making eye contact when it was absolutely necessary.

Her distance stung but Tom knew he only had himself to blame. Once again he’d leapt without looking and pushed at boundaries he clearly had no right to cross. Not anymore. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a coward before…He shook the thought away. There was little he could do about any of it now.

Steeling himself, Tom took the last few steps into the dressing room. Bobby was running right circles around a softly smiling Cath. Sensing Tom’s presence, the spaniel skidded to a halt, turned and darted towards his master.

“Hello Bobster, ready to head home?”

Bobby barked once.

Tom scratched the spaniel affectionately behind the ears before raising his gaze towards Cath. “Thank you again, for watching him. I know he can be a right handful.”

She offered him a tight-lipped smile before turning abruptly on her heel and digging through her purse. Tom watched in confusion as she pulled the book he’d given her from it and thrust it back in his direction. “I can’t accept this.”

He blinked in bewilderment, reaching out automatically to take it from her shaking hand. “Cath…I don’t understand…I thought you…” he stammered, trying desperately to find the right words to phrase his lack of understanding. She’d loved the book when he first handed to it her. Her abrupt about face confused him.

“Why did you give me that, Tom?” She didn’t wait for his answer, plowing on as though she hadn’t asked him the question in the first place. “It’s a bloody first edition for Christ’s sake! It’s ridiculously expensive and completely inappropriate and I can’t accept it.”

“But it wasn’t!” he shouted back, startling Bobby, who let out a yelp of alarm and darted back towards his bed. Tom took a deep breath. “It wasn’t,” he repeated again, calmly. “I found it in a charity shop near Notting Hill for next to nothing. I didn’t even know it was first edition until after I took it home.” It had been just as much a shock to him as anyone. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when it was so bloody perfect. “But that doesn’t matter. I saw it and I knew it was yours. I knew I needed to give it to you.”

“It does matter, Tom! Of course it bloody matters!” She all but hissed at him. Her green eyes were wide and her expression harried. “People don’t go around gifting coworkers with bloody first editions! That is not bloody logical!”

Tom tensed, not understanding why she was refusing to accept something so freely given. She’d been so ridiculously happy when she’d first opened the book, why did knowing what edition it was change any of that? It’s not as if he’d gone out and spent a ruddy fortune on it. He’d found it completely by accident and spent next to nothing on it. “Why can’t you just accept it?” He pleaded, his own ire growing. “I gave you that book because I knew you’d love it. I knew how much it bloody meant to you! Why on earth does it matter where I got the damned thing or how much I bloody paid for it? It’s a gift! The rest doesn’t matter!”

Cath whirled on him, eyes blazing. “It matters, Tom!” She threw her hands up into the air in exasperation. “Why are you so fucking blind to how much it fucking matters?!”

“I…I don’t understand,” Tom stammered, a cold dread flooded him. Whatever was happening, and he was beginning to think he had the wrong end of the stick, he’d clearly misjudged the situation. And badly.

She let out a frustrated bark of a laugh. “You never bloody do.” Cath took a deep breath, crossing her arms at her chest. “I’m tired Tom. I can’t keep doing,” she waved a hand vaguely between them, “whatever this is happening with you and I. You need to figure out what it is you want and then stick with it. Because I can’t take the back and forth anymore. If you want me, bloody say it. If you don’t just say it. Fucking hell, just do something because this hot and cold with you is driving me around the bend and I am just tired. Just please, for both of our sakes, make up your goddamned mind.”

Tom blinked as her words slowly sank in. He watched as her eyes darkened in time with her features. He could feel the frustration radiating from her in waves and fought the urge to reach forward and take her hands in his; doing so would only serve to anger her more. And he’d apparently done more than enough of that. Beside him he could hear Bobby’s impatient whining though it seemed far away.

Ben’s pleas from weeks ago to simply just sit and talk with her flooded through his mind. His friend had been right. Of fucking course he was, Tom thought bitterly. If he had been smarter…Or indeed braver, he would have taken Cath aside and done his utmost best to explain then and there what was going on with him. And maybe she would have understood. Maybe she wouldn’t have. But he would know either way.

Now…Now Tom knew if he didn’t at least try to talk with her, to let her know all of the jumbled and mess-up contradictory thoughts in his mind, he would lose her. Not just as a potential something but as a friend. And that…That thought terrified him.

“You’re right,” Tom heard himself start, his voice thin and wary. He watched as she tensed before him, waiting for whatever he said next. Her arms remained tightly crossed at her chest, eyes lowered but determined, face carefully blank. “I need to talk about…this…About us. I should have done it a long time ago. But I didn’t and that…That is on me. And I know I don’t have any right asking this of you and you have every right to tell me no. But I want to try to explain…To talk. Can you…Can you let me do that? Would you come with me so I can try?”

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