A/N: I’m still working on this part so bear with me…
Germany had not been what Tom had hoped for. He was looking for respite from the memory and desire that he felt for Fiona McKellan but was rewarded only with reminders of her at every turn. One weekend, a friend wanted to go to the auction house in Koln to bid on a particularly stunning set of Tiffany lamps. While looking over the lots up for auction, he came across a book of verses that was being sold by ‘McKellan Rare Books – London’. Not wanting to be anywhere near anything having to do with Fiona, Tom feigned a headache and left. Christmas was no easier when Eric Collins, now Emma’s fiancée, invited him to his parent’s country home for a Christmas party. As Mr. Collins gave Tom the tour of the house and they got to the library, Tom was reminded that some of the books that Eric’s father owned, were purchased through McKellan Rare Books. He thought that he could bury that memory until Mr. Collins showed him his newest acquisition; a 15th century manuscript of Decameron by Boccaccio complete with illuminations, purchased for him by McKellan Rare Books. She was seemingly everywhere that he went. But, he did as she asked. He did not try to contact her in any way, form or fashion. No matter how badly he wanted to.
The security at the party was thick. No one was getting in without proper identification no matter who they claimed to know inside. Tom was thankful. After attending the last party Benedict had thrown, he didn’t want the whole world to know that he danced like a loon on the bar with a girl half his age. That was a night that he didn’t want to repeat. The space that Ben had rented for the party was a cross between theatre and industrial storage. He must have spent a fortune on the party this year. After a rigorous security check, Tom was allowed admittance into the soiree. There was alcohol, women and drugs everywhere. Benedict had really outdone himself this year. The theme was 1920’s cabaret; flappers, jazz and gin. Although it was supposed to be a fancy dress party, Tom chose to go with a tasteful tuxedo and bowtie. He would just tell anyone that asked that he was channeling Cole Porter. Roulette and poker tables dotted the immense room that had been transformed into a cabaret from the age. Scantily clad waitresses meandered through the crowds taking drink orders and sometimes more than that. He was no virgin when it came to exclusive parties, he knew exactly who some of the women were; escorts.
A waitress came up to him almost immediately and took his order for a drink but also offered something a bit stronger than alcohol and definitely illegal. He wasn’t ready to get completely wasted yet so he just went with a martini. With drink in hand, he scanned the room for anyone who looked familiar. There were loads of industry people in attendance; producers, writers, directors, agents. He said hello to a few people he knew from the BBC and was introduced to a lot more people whose names he would never remember. Then there were those from his line of work, actors. Young ingénues and not quite done old timers made their rounds through the throng of partygoers just as he was doing. After his third martini, Tom was feeling pleasantly drunk when someone put their hand on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of the Gucci tuxedo.
“Tom! You made it!” Benedict yelled over the music. The two shared a brotherly embrace and Tom could immediately tell that Benedict had already partaken in some of the illegal party favors going around. It made no matter, this was his party after all. Ben was decked out in a three piece suit and fedora hat complete with pocket watch and cigar hanging out of his mouth. After talking about work and doing the general catching up, Benedict asked “So what do you think of the party this year?”
“Fantastic! I like the roaring 20’s theme. Sorry I didn’t go all out on the costume like you.” Tom said gesturing to Benedict’s suit.
“I’m not! Wouldn’t want to get upstaged at my own fucking party. You didn’t bring a date?” Benedict asked, downing the rest of his drink and placing it on the tray of a passing waitress. Tom looked down at his feet for a moment before replying.
“Not this year. I guess no one would have me. What about you?” He asked, trying desperately to redirect Benedict’s attention away from his own life.
“Fuck right, I did! I want you to meet her. Hold on a minute.” He said to Tom as he went searching for his date. In the meantime, Tom ordered a shot of tequila and a vodka on the rocks from the bar and slammed the tequila without a chaser. This was a party after all. As he waited, the warm and fuzzy feeling from the alcohol consumed him and he was beginning to feel looser and less constricted by the events of the past year. Nothing had made him think of Fiona and he didn’t want to think of her. All was going well.
“Tom!” He heard a voice yell from a few yards away. It was Benedict and trailing after him must have been his date. As he maneuvered his way around the rest of the guests, Tom waited patiently and just enjoyed the music, lights and people around him. “To be young and successful in London…” he thought to himself as Benedict finally made his way to him. Benedict held the woman with him around the waist and she was whispering something in his ear, her face covered by Ben’s hat. “Tom I want you to meet a friend of mine. I would like to introduce Ms. Kerry Covington.” Ben intoned over the music. It was then that the woman turned her head slowly to look at him and time stopped. Her hair was different. It was shorter, coming only to her shoulders, straight and a dark chocolate brown now but he there was no mistaking those silver grey eyes. To the untrained eye, she was cool, calm and collected but she couldn’t hide her own shock from him when he stuck out his hand in the customary gesture and she looked down at it apprehensively. “Kerry, this is one of my best mates and a fine fucking actor. May I present Mr. Tom Hiddleston.”
“A pleasure…Ms. Covington was it?”
“Yes it was. Nice to meet you Mr. Hiddleston.” She replied timidly. He wasn’t going to blow her cover, at least not yet. He was fuming inside and wanted to out her immediately but that would mean ruining Ben’s party and that was something he refused to do. She was still stunning though. That feeling of control that he ached for was bubbling up inside of him once more. It seemed to be fueled by her very presence. Until now it laid dormant; a burning ember inside of his mind. It was now sparking and flaming furiously once more.
“Jude!” Benedict yelled across the room, interrupting Tom’s thoughts of dominance. “Sorry, Tom. Gotta play the host role a while longer. Let me know when you leave?” Benedict asked.
“Of course.” Tom replied as Benedict grabbed Fiona’s hand and hauled her off to introduce her to Jude Law and the rest of his guests. Tom was seething now seeing her again and with one of his friends and colleagues no less. He ordered another tequila shot and went off to try his hand at one of the roulette tables. He bet 1,500 quid on black and lost it all. He didn’t even care right now. After talking, drinking and gambling a bit more he decided that he needed to go somewhere to cool off for a bit so he decided to wander around the building. He went through the kitchens where wait staff and cooks were hurriedly trying to get food out to the buffet tables unnoticed. After walking around a bit longer his mind was finally calming and he was coming off of the high of anger and shock that had blown him out of the water. Finally, he decided that it was time to go back to the party for a while longer before heading home and he attempted to find his way back to the main room through the maze of doors and hallways. As he went down one corridor, he thought that he heard a noise that sounded like a chair scraping across the floor. Curious, he followed the direction of the sound that was then followed by muffled moans and cries. The noises seemed to be coming from behind a door at the end of the hall. Cracking the door slightly, Tom peered inside and immediately felt sick to his stomach.
Inside the room was something that Tom could not unsee. Benedict sat in a chair in front of what appeared to be a dance studio mirror with Fiona, hands tied behind her back, writhing and moaning on his cock. Tom was enraged by now, watching his friend fuck the woman that his dreams were made of. With their backs to him, Tom could see everything from their reflections in the mirror. Benedict sucked and bit at Fiona’s neck as one hand squeezed her throat and the other fondled her clit. He watched and listened to every breath and moan that came from her mouth. He thought that it couldn’t get any worse than this but it did and he was frozen still when he heard Benedict say, “Come for me. I want to watch you to come.” Tom was horrified as Fiona did as she was commanded. Arching her back and groaning, Tom watched as she gave herself to his friend right there in front of the mirror. Tom couldn’t watch any longer and he ran from the hallway and back to the main room where he found a waitress and ordered his third shot of tequila. As he waited, he noticed Benedict reemerge from backstage trying to inconspicuously zip up his trousers; Fiona was nowhere in sight. Tom tried to not make eye contact with Benedict by hiding his head low to the bar but it was no use. Benedict spotted him almost immediately and made a bee line for him.
“Enjoying yourself?” Benedict asked, a slight slur jumbling his words. Wanting desperately to get out of there as soon as possible and confront Fiona, Tom tactfully replied, “Yeah, great party man. The music is good, the drinks are impeccable and the ladies are top notch. Speaking of, where’s your date? Did you lose her to Jude or Martin?”
“Oh, Kerry went on home. She said she wasn’t feeling well. Headache or something. What about you? Did you find someone to take home tonight or at least for 30 minutes?” Benedict joked, completely unaware of Tom’s intentions.
“No, no. Not really feeling it tonight, probably too much booze. Actually, I think that I’m going to head home myself. I just remembered that I have a conference call with L.A. in the morning and I don’t want to be completely hungover.” Tom answered, throwing in a fake yawn for effect.
“Ah, I understand. Well take it easy and give me a call next week. We’ll have lunch or coffee or something. Ok?” Benedict said, slapping him on the back.
“Sounds good. Thanks for the great time.” Tom replied trying to reign in his temper when he realized that the hand that just touched him was the hand that was around Fiona’s throat.
After making his farewells to the rest of his friends, Tom climbed in the backseat of his rented car and told the driver to drop him off at a shop on Hillsleigh. The cold was keeping most people indoors so he was not afraid of running into any photographers or fans that night. The anger inside had burned up any effect the alcohol may have had on him so he needed something else. Going into the shop, Tom kept his head low and his voice quiet as he bought a pack of cigarettes. He had never smoked outside of the occasional night at a bar or pub but tonight he wanted the calming effect of the nicotine. Standing outside the shop, under the awning, Tom looked down the street towards number 35. He was done with thinking things through and decided that now was the time to be rash.