The 12 Dates of Christmas

The One with the Boyfriend (Tom Hiddleston)

A/N: This one is dedicated to all of you that have read "Hello Again" and have sent me so many wonderful messages about it, and the characters in it.  Thank you.

"Holy fuck, it's Christmas!" Santos exclaims, stomping wildly through the falling snow. The streets of New York are covered in a blanket of perfectly white snow. At least for a few wonderful moments. The air is crisp and clean-- the sort that hurts when you breathe too deep. The sky is a milky gray, heavy with snow. I watch him, holding back a giggle as his dark hair is speckled with white snowflakes.

"Indeed, it is," Tom chuckles next to me, his arm intertwined with mine as we slide clumsily together on the patches of ice on the sidewalks. It's so good to have him here, with me. It'd been almost two months apart, with him working on a set in Australia and me based at home in London. Then, when Santos had called with a bit of an emergency, it had been some sort of divine intervention that'd we'd both been able to hop on planes and make it to the east coast. The past few nights had been spent holed up in a swanky hotel room (courtesy of Tom), drinking champagne, eating room service, and catching up on lost time. Santos had to threaten to call in a bomb threat in order to get us to leave and come out to see him.

"I haven't seen a white out like this since LL Bean on a Black Friday!" He twirls, almost slips and falls on a patch of black ice. He curses loud enough that I'm pretty sure half of New York hears, his voice echoing off the snow covered streets and tall buildings. I snort back a laugh, and steady myself as Tom slides forward on his boots.

"Like you've ever been to an LL Bean." I roll my eyes, as Santos twists around and shoots me a wink and two finger guns.

"You caught me in a lie, Gracie girl." He twists back around, and begins gingerly making his way through the slush. "Do people really still buy off the rack?" He shoots over his shoulder, and I laugh and shake my head.

"Yes. Normal people." I call out, and Santos looks at me like I've just told him Santa doesn't exist.

"How is Cillian?" I ask, changing the subject. Tom runs forward, sliding on the ice and slamming playfully into Santo's side, which sends Santos careening toward a parked car. Their laughter rings through the streets.

"He's stressed out. He couldn't even leave goddamn Chicago with the blizzard going on. It's like the Abominable snowman splooged all over the Windy city!" Santos groans and Tom laughs loudly, while I scowl at both of them. Get these two together, and all hell breaks loose. Tom thinks Santos is hilarious and Santos...thinks Santos is hilarious as well. It's just a continuous loop of ridiculous comments and grade school laughter.

"That's graphic." I shake my head, and then run forward, sliding and looping my arms around Tom's middle. He grins at me, and leans down, brushing snow from my hair. I never get tired of his smile. His warm, caring eyes.

God, he's fantastic. It's been a year since we both realized we were being monumental idiots. Since he finally asked me out, and I ugly cried in his mother's house on Christmas before happily accepting his offer. It'd been a long time coming. Three long years of watching him fall for other (very ridiculous) girls. And trying to convince myself that he was just a dude I could casually sleep with. Again, did I say we were idiots? Because we were.

"Are you two sure you want to come with me tomorrow? Wouldn't you rather go back to your hotel and shag all weekend? Or are your naughty bits already rubbed raw?" Santos cackles, and starts packing snow into a snow ball. Tom smiles, holding me a bit closer as he leans down and kisses me gently.

"She hasn't said pineapple yet, so all systems are go." Tom murmurs to me, and I can't help but smile. A reminder from our days when we were each other's back up plans, when we really wanted to be each other's only plans.