The Cure - Ch. 4 - Thomas H.
TITLE OF STORY: The Cure
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter 4 of ?
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom and OFC Olivia
GENRE: Romance, Angst, Smut
FIC SUMMARY: After Tom has to take his sick niece to the pediatrician, he strikes up a fancy for the beautiful Doctor. The more he finds out about Olivia, the more he wants to know. How will he react when secrets about her past come to light?
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: This chapter involves drinking alcohol, so if that is triggering, please proceed with caution!
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: If you have yet to watch our Tom in Coriolanus, please do so! It really is spectacular! Check out the first half here. Unfortunately, the link I have for the second half no longer works. :( Feedback is always wanted and valued! <3C
Their glasses clinked together, before Olivia quickly brought hers to her lips, ridding the contents from the glass… and into her mouth. Tom did the same, only not nearly as quickly as Livi, and he coughed a bit from the harshness of the Ledaig whisky. She didn’t seem bothered by it though.
He cleared his throat as he watched her pour each of them another glass. “So, where were you before you were sent to London?”
“Well, last I was in Tokyo… and then before that, Bunbury in Western Australia… and before that, Detroit.” She answered, as she took another gulp from her glass.
“Ah, I just filmed some work in Detroit. A movie…”
“Mmm…” He groaned as he took another sip of whisky. “I played a vampire… Adam.”
“A vampire? Were you covered in glitter?” She giggled.
He could tell that the whisky was already getting to her, and to be honest, he was feeling a slight buzz from it as well. “Uh… no. I wasn’t that kind of vampire.”
“Oh, good.” She tilted her head back as she emptied her glass once again.
“You’re going to be sick, if you don’t eat something…” He cleared his throat as he handed her one of the hobnobs from the plate. “Eat this… at least one. Come on.”
“Fine…” She huffed as she reached out her hand to grab the biscuit, only she was beginning to see doubles from the alcohol, and missed the biscuit completely.
“See? That’s precisely why you should eat this. You’re already drunk.” His smug look wasn’t completely lost on her. He broke off a piece of the biscuit and held it up to her mouth. “Open.”
She did as he asked, but not before she rolled her eyes at him. She made sure that he knew that it was her decision to eat the biscuit, not because he wanted her to.
“There you are… that should help a little.”
“By the way, I’m not drunk. I’m at least three glasses away from being drunk.”
He laughed at her. “Okay… okay. I believe you!”
She topped up her glass, before moving to do his as well. He put his hand over the glass rim, stopping her. “I don’t think I need anymore, darling. I don’t need to perform tonight with a hangover.”
“Why do you call me darling when you hardly even know me? In America, you might get slapped for that. I mean, I wouldn’t slap you… but someone else might…” She asked as she took another tiny sip.
“Oh… well… I guess it’s just a thing I do. Are you bothered by it? I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a habit that I’ve picked up.”
“No, it doesn’t really bother me…” She blushed. “Just wondering is all…”
He nodded as he watched the red color flow to her cheeks. He didn’t know if it was the whisky, or him that had made her blush… whatever it was, it was perfect and beautiful.
She noticed him staring intently at her, and before she knew it, he had launched himself toward her and placed his lips squarely against hers. His large hands cupped her face, and their whisky flavored lips melted together. She let her tongue dart out to trace his thin lower lip, before his tongue joined hers. She tasted of hobnob, whisky, and black tea, and as he deepened the kiss, he felt a twinge of guilt and pulled away quickly. His forehead lightly rested against hers, as not to put pressure on his tender stitches. “I can’t… we can’t… you’ve drunk too much. It wouldn’t be right.”
She knew she wasn’t anywhere near drunk, she had just now gotten to that warm, buzzed feeling… she had a long way to go before she was drunk. She wanted to push things further with him, knowing that a physical release would help her feelings, at least for a little while, but she knew from experience that sex changes things a lot, and she didn’t want to get involved with anyone… that was a rule that she tried to live by. It was just got too messy when it was time for her to leave.
“I’ve got MarioKart…” She said, immediately wishing she could pick the words up, and shove them back into her mouth. Sometimes she embarrassed herself.
“I’ve never played MarioKart.” He whispered and smiled against her lips. “Will you teach me?” He resigned himself to the fact that nothing else could happen tonight. He didn’t want to rush her into anything, he barely knew her; plus she had been drinking… if they were going to be together, he wanted to be sure that she’d remember it tomorrow.
She cleared her throat to try and lessen the tension, as she slid off the couch and made her way to the small armoire at the end of her living room… all on wobbly legs. Maybe the alcohol was getting to her more than she thought. She opened the cabinet, revealing her television. “I may not have food… but I’ve got whisky and a Nintendo. Really, isn’t that what’s important?” She looked back at him to wink, but caught him with his hands on himself, mid-adjustment. When she realized why he was adjusting himself, her eyes grew wide. He laughed bashfully as she quickly looked away.
“Ah… I’m sorry. Can’t really control it.” He apologized quietly, as she turned to him and held a bright blue controller out.
“You can be Mario. I’ll be Princess Peach.” She smiled as he took the controller from her hands.
After a couple of hours, and a little more whisky on Livi’s part, she had taught him how to drift around the track’s curves in his Kart, and soon, he began beating her in the races. She blamed it on the fact that her vision was beginning to grow a little hazy, otherwise she’d be beating his ass.
“Well, that’s enough of that.” She stated, matter-of-factly, as she took the controller out of his hand in the middle of a race.
“Hey! I was enjoying that!” He laughed at her. “I was beating you!”
“I know. I don’t like losing.”
“I can see that.” He said, cocking his eyebrows. “Anyhow, I bet you’re tired after the night you had. Why don’t you come and sit beside me? I make a good pillow.” He held his long arms out in a gesture that looked so warm and inviting, but Olivia was unsure. “Well, come on. I don’t bite. Come, get some rest.”
She sighed, as she didn’t think he was going to give up until she did it. She plopped onto the couch beside him, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to lay on his chest. ‘Mmm… he does make a good pillow,’ she thought as she closed her eyes and inhaled him. It had been far too long since she had laid on a man like this, and just smelled him, and Tom’s woodsy, fresh scent was entirely too enticing.
Before she knew it, she was waking up alone on her couch. A pillow had been placed under her head, and her thick, crocheted blanket had been pulled up around her. For a moment, she wondered if everything that had happened over the last couple of days had been real… maybe she had been dreaming? She noticed a note on her coffee table, and as she sat up, the room spun and her head ached. Well, the alcohol had at least been real. She immediately regretted all the whisky as a wave of nausea swept over her.
The note was on the back of a crumpled receipt, and she silently admonished herself for not having actual paper to write on in her flat. It was written in a messy handwriting, and she squinted as she tried to read it.
A gift? She looked on the table beside her, and on a napkin lay 2 ibuprofen next to a bottle of water. Thank God. She swallowed the pills, and lay back down thinking about how thoughtful it was of him to leave her medicine out like that. She reached over and grabbed her cell phone off the coffee table, quickly going to her contacts. Yup, there he was. He had entered his number underneath the name ‘Thomas H.’ Just by looking at the name, you’d think that it could be any old Thomas H. off the street… until you looked at the photo he’d added as his contact photo. He must have taken it right before he left, because he was all bundled up for the cold day. Geez, that smile probably leaves scores of women keeled over dead in the street.
“Ugh.” She groaned as she put her phone back onto the coffee table and closed her eyes once more. She hoped that the ibuprofen would work quickly, because her head felt like someone was beating it like a drum. Finally, she sunk a little further into the couch, and drifted back off to sleep.
A loud knocking startled her awake a couple of hours later. She looked at her clock as she swung her legs around to place them flat on the floor. 2:24 P.M. Who is bothering her? When she looked out of the peephole, she noticed an older man standing there with several boxes on a moving dolly.
“Can I help you?” She asked through the door.
“I’m looking for Olivia Beckett. I’ve got a delivery.”
A delivery? What the hell could be in all those boxes? She opened the door for the man, with a questioning expression on her still sleepy face.
“Are you Ms. Beckett?”
“Yes… what’s all that?” She ran her hand over her hair, trying to make sure it wasn’t looking completely crazy.
“I’ve got a grocery delivery from Whole Foods.”
“A… grocery delivery?”
“That’s what I said.”
Livi wrinkled her nose at the rude quip from the man. She watched as he wheeled his moving dolly into her kitchen, depositing the boxes in the middle of the floor.
“There you are, Miss. Thank you.” He said quickly as he made a hasty exit.
She locked the door behind him, and walked into the kitchen surveying the stack of boxes. She stood on her tip-toes and peeked into the top box, seeing several bread items. ‘Oh man, that smells so good.’ She thought to herself as she pulled the box down and went through it. Freshly baked bagels, croissants, blueberry muffins, and chocolate chip cookies were housed in that box. She began to filter through the other boxes, and pulled from them different cheeses, fruits, meat, snacks, bottled water, teas and coffee for her Keurig. She certainly hadn’t ordered all this food, so she only knew of one person that would have. She immediately went to her phone and pressed the number beside the smiling ‘Thomas H.’
“Well, hello there.” He said, with the hint of a grin in his voice.
“How do you feel? I would imagine that you’ve got a bit of a headache.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I do… definitely not feeling so hot. The ibuprofen helped though, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She could hear metal clanging and voices reciting Shakespeare in the background, and knew he must have been at practice.
“So, I just received a huge delivery of groceries… I was wondering who the mystery person was that sent them to me.”
“Ah… yes, I don’t know who that could have been.” He joked.
“Tom, I really appreciate it… but you know that I can buy my own groceries.”
“I know you can… however, that doesn’t mean that you will. I know you stay busy at the clinic. Just consider it a kind gesture.”
“It was very kind. Thank you, again.”
“Save the chicken and pasta. I’m coming over tomorrow night and cooking you dinner.”
“Yes, if that’s alright.. I’m free tomorrow, and I like your company just a bit, Dr. Beckett. Now, go make yourself a sandwich, eat and lay down. I’ll give you a call later, alright?”
“Okay… and, thanks again, Tom.”
“You’re quite welcome, darling.”
After their goodbyes, Olivia stared at her phone for a moment. She didn’t know what was happening, and she didn’t know how to handle it. This was the point where she usually distanced herself from men. That moment when she starts to feel butterflies… the moment where she’s giddy at the thought of seeing someone… that was always her sign. She didn’t want to end it with Tom, though. She liked him a lot, even though it was still very new. He seemed to be warm and caring, not to mention ridiculously good-looking and down to earth… and she could get used to listening to the way he said “dah-ling” with that deep voice riddled with his strong accent. She decided to give it another day at least, before deciding what to do about him. After dinner tomorrow night, she’d know…