You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 43

You've been laying with your back loosely pressed to Tom's front, drifting in and out of sleep. You both woke before the sun even rose and have spent the early morning murmuring a soft, fragmented conversation.

As the suns starts to rise you can hear movement in the household. Careful, quiet steps across the second story translate to shifting floorboards above your head. You can make out a muffled discussion. Then there is a thud and the quick pattering of feet. Over that noise you hear Sarah shout down the stairs a warning: "Incoming!"

You have time to turn slightly in Tom's arms and voice your question, "What?"

The explanation – Tom's nephew – lands atop you, knocking the air from your stomach. "It's morning time!"

You had caught most of the flailing limbs from the sneak attack, but judging from Tom's grunt and sudden shift of his arms you suspect he might have just gotten a jolt to the groin. You shift your body gently to try to shield him from any further harm while maneuvering his nephew in the opposite direction. "Yes, it is. Good morning!"

He reaches over you to pat Tom on the face a few times, clearly not satisfied that Tom hasn't acknowledged him yet. "Good morning. Good morning!"

You're trying not to move too much and cause Tom more discomfort but you can't help but silently giggle at this adorable child. Tom isn't quite as amused at the moment, still holding himself a little rigidly. He at least manages out a returned greeting. Satisfied that the both of you are awake, Tom's nephew wiggles from your grasp and launches himself from the sofa, running back up the stairs at full force.

Tom buries his face in your shoulder, breathing slowly. "Darling I can feel you laughing."

"I'm sorry, Tom. I know that isn't helping. Are you alright?" With the danger gone from the room, you shift away from him to allow him some breathing room and time to readjust.

"I'm fine. I will be fine. Just give me a minute." He breathes steadily before grumbling, "See – now if we'd been in a bedroom – with a door. That locks."

He pauses his muttering when you lean over to kiss him, "Just imagine what that would have felt like had I not been there to block most of the blow?"

He nods. "I am temporarily indebted to my human shield." He lifts one hand to run it up one of your legs, hooking his arm over your lap to prevent you from getting up.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, "Temporarily?"

Tom shifts to sit up now, though performing the motion gingerly. His reply is accompanied by a mischievous grin. "Yes. Which is why I require a door. With locks."

Well there's something to distract you for the remainder of the day. You release a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh, a moan, and a groan.

With the rest of the household now awake Emma calls down the stairs to you, "______? Tom? The shower is free if one of you wants to dash in. ______, I left clothes out on the counter that should fit."

You descend the stairs again to find Tom sitting at the kitchen table with Emma and Diana. He jumps up to trade you places and get ready for the day. The scent of breakfast getting started fills the room. No wonder he's rushing, it smells delicious. "Thank you for lending me clothes for today Emma. I'll um – I'll get them washed as soon as we get back tonight."

Diana's smile falls slightly, "Oh but are you sure you have to go? You've already stayed one night and there's plenty of –"

Tom has already made it out of the kitchen, but has clearly been listening. He calls back down the stairs. "Plenty of room? Mum, I love you but we're not staying a second night. I don't think either of us could manage another night squeezed onto the sofa."

She looks at you, then to the living room and the sofa where the neat stack sheets that had been used are resting atop one of the cushions. "But – he didn't fold it out?"

The sound of running water starts overhead, signaling Tom's presence in the bathroom to take his shower. You huff out a laugh and shake your head. "No. No he did not." Thinking about his tone you add, "... and I think he's still fighting off a bit of grumpiness over his morning wake up call." The smell of the food is making your stomach grumble. If it's ready before everyone is downstairs you might have to snag a piece of bacon, purely for taste testing purposes. You nod towards the stove, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Emma releases a laugh while Diana shakes her head, "Stop trying to get her to put you to work, _______. Enjoy being a guest while you still can!"

The phrase makes you blush and your heart rate go up a notch. Enjoy being a guest while you still can. Sarah may have her reservations regarding you, but Emma has evidently already accepted you as an inevitable part of the family.

"Maybe next time, sweetheart. Will we be seeing you this Christmas? Or maybe New Years? Oh but we have you here, now. That's what counts." Diana squeezes your forearm.

Emma joins in, "Next time something happens, if there is a next time – come here and we'll all join in to make him see reason."

You give your head a gentle shake and knit your fingers together, "I was the one that needed to be persuaded to see reason, but I'll keep the offer in mind all the same. Sarah um," you're choosing your words carefully, "...mentioned how angry he was that I thought he had cheated." You cast a guilty look at Diana, "I'm sorry I doubted him. Healthy relationships aren't something I've excelled in, in the past, and the media..." You stop yourself. You're making excuses. "Never mind that. But I promise, we are doing better – I'm doing better."

She has both her hands clasped around yours now in an effort to comfort, "I can see that." She pats your hands as she holds them within her own, "Call it mother's instinct, but I knew that wouldn't be the end of it."

Or turning a blind eye. You'd been convinced that it was over – too angry with him, then convinced he was better off removed from your sphere of chaos and unwilling to budge on the issue. At least someone had held onto their faith that your relationship with Tom hadn't been destroyed by your stubbornness.

No, you chide yourself. That wasn't entirely true – Benedict had maintained throughout the few month period of resolute silence that the relationship could and would be mended.

"He wouldn't stop talking about you, for starters." Emma amends her statement nearly in the same breath, "Well – ranting to begin with. But we got him to see it from your view. Eventually."

Somehow these wonderful people had been able to look beyond the fact that you'd hurt Tom, betrayed his trust, and argued on your behalf to get him to let go of his frustration long enough to see your side of the events.

Their actions had mostly been motivated by wanting Tom to be happy – or perhaps just wanting him to quit harping on the issue – but in the end they'd also contributed to your own happiness.

It seems more people had a hand in reuniting you with Tom than either of you were probably fully aware. 

You aren't permitted to dwell too long on your thoughts, once again the thunderous patter of quickly inbound feet alert you to a surprise attack. Tom's nephew hurtles through the kitchen, bypassing all others to halt by your side. He gives you a once over, "Those are Aunt Emma's." 

Emma grins, "Well spotted. ______'s dress wouldn't do for adventures today so she is borrowing some clothes."

He immediately brightens at the word adventures. Oh dear. What are you in for today?