Making Jane Proud

Chapter 29 - Tall, Dark and Exotic

"What do you think?" Tom's hair had been cut very short and dyed a nondescript brown for his upcoming roles.

"Well, it's a completely different look to Loki," she said, walking slowly around him to get the full effect. "Makes your ears stick out." For her teasing he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her into his arms while growling in her ear. The sound of her giggling drove him to lay claim to her neck and jaw with his mouth before fixing on her lips. "Back home we call that a short back and no sides," she added when she had breath again, so he kissed her once more until they both needed to come up for air.

"You are a cheeky little minx."

"Maybe so," she grinned, "but I've got more hair than you now!"

The sound of her laughter lifted the weight that had been in his chest since he had come home last night to find her in tears; it had been her last day at school and saying goodbye to her students and colleagues had been very difficult for her.

He saw she had both of their bags out on the bed and had begun packing a few items into hers, so he started going through his drawers and wardrobe choosing shirts, trousers, socks and underwear. Ellie rummaged in the wardrobe too.

"Will I need to bring a really nice dress? Are you going to take me anywhere fancy Thomas?"

He raised a brow; she rarely called him Thomas. "That is most definitely a possibility Eleanor." She grinned. "Do you have one that won't crush?" Nodding, she pulled out a hanger holding a soft, flowing dress of midnight blue and set it to one side, turning to the bottom of the cupboard to fish out a pair of dainty silver heeled sandals, then she came and sat on the bed near his case as he continued packing.

"So I'm going to catch the Metro from Gare du Nord to Porte Dauphine, is that right?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "It's the end of the line, so you can't miss it. The hotel is on Rue Marbeau, about a ten minute walk from the Metro station. Have you got a map? What time do you get in to Paris?"

"Two forty-five. I'll have a map with me – I hope I don't get lost as I won't have you there to speak French and ask directions."

"You'll be fine, most Parisians speak some English at least." He came closer to peck her cheek. "And no self-respecting Frenchman would fail to assist a beautiful damsel in distress."

"Oh smooth, Thomas, very smooth." It was his turn to grin.

"Send me a text when you get to the hotel," he told her, "and I might have an idea by then of what time I'll be finishing my scenes."

"Okay."

They talked more as he packed about the things they both wanted to see and do in Paris then later, when he was done, joined friends for dinner and returned home around midnight, making love tenderly before falling asleep in each others arms.

---

In the soft beams of light the last quarter moon slanted around the room in the early hours of the morning, Tom lay on his back thinking about the day ahead. In a few hours he would leave for the airport and Ellie was to join him on Tuesday, giving them a few days together in the City of Light. It would be a brief hiatus from the real world where obligations and work and partings existed and he wanted it to be something golden they could look back on when time and distance wormed its way between them.

Turning on his side he moulded himself to the curve of her, her back warm against his chest and his arm lightly around her waist. When her hand moved to rest on his he felt guilty and whispered, "Did I wake you?"

"No." She squeezed his hand. "Tom, I...I've been thinking and I want you to promise me something."

"Of course darling." He kissed her bare shoulder; it tasted faintly of lemon. He wondered briefly where this was going but was more interested in the way the moonlight was dancing across her curves, creating intriguing shadows and hollows.

"While we're...apart...you're going to be meeting a lot of new people...interesting people."

His fingertips were skimming her hip and thigh exploring shadows and leaving a light layer of goose bumps in their wake. "Mmm."

She sighed. "Promise me that if you...meet someone...you'll tell me yourself and not let me...read about it on the Internet or in the paper." They'd talked before of actors and others in the public eye – into which his roles would increasingly thrust him - whose private lives were frequently the topic in gossip columns, whether the information was true or not.

He stilled, realising what she meant and feeling hurt and angry that she could think he could possibly..."It's not going to happen," he responded gruffly.

"Tom, we...we have to be realistic...we will hardly see each other for a year...you might..."

"Are you going to meet someone else?" He interrupted, jealousy at the mere thought mixing with his indignation to form a boulder in his chest.

"No, of course not."

"Yet you think so highly of my faithfulness that you've decided I will." He pulled his arm away and rolled onto his back again, hands clenching at his sides. He sensed her turning over to face him but refused to look at her, staring straight ahead at the patterns of light on the ceiling for a few minutes of tense silence.

"I'm sorry...you're absolutely right..." She changed position again. "I suppose I am just as likely to meet someone tall, dark and exotic while you're surrounded by beautiful actresses and breathless female fans who want to..."

What the hell? He silenced her with a kiss so searingly intense they were both gasping for breath afterwards, their hands entwined either side of Ellie's head. "You're not to meet any exotic...you're mine," Tom growled, kissing her neck as she made little sounds of pleasure and wound her arms around him.

"I'm yours, Tom, I am...but darling, I'm...I'm scared."

He stopped and saw her fear in her eyes; the heat he felt melted immediately, replaced by a tidal wave of tenderness so overwhelming he shivered. Turning on his side, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against his thumping heart, trying to think of words to reassure them both and feeling totally inadequate when he didn't have a clue what they were.

"I'm scared too darling," he managed at last, "but I think...we just need...faith. Faith in each other," he squeezed her gently, "faith in us."

She gave a huge sigh. "Faith." Her head nodded, her rumpled hair tickling his chin and her arms tightening around him.

He hoped fiercely that it would be enough.

---

"I'll see you on Tuesday."

"Yes."

"Don't forget to record Ben's show for me."

"I won't forget."

"Take care of yourself."

"Yes love, I will."

He was finding it difficult to leave, hugging her close to him one more time as the boarding announcement for his flight came over the loudspeakers again.

"Go, Tom. Go be a fabulous Scott Fitzgerald, but remember one very important thing."

"What's that darling?"

"I love you." She squeezed him tight as she kissed him and he cupped her face with his hands, almost dropping his boarding pass in the process.

"I love you too," he murmured into her ear, then kissed her for the last time and turned to pick up his carry-on, striding to the gate without looking back until he was through and there was no chance he could change his mind. She blew him a kiss and smiled; he acted out catching it and placing it in his heart before walking around the corner and down towards the aircraft.