Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Hot Buttered Toast

A/N: I'm backkkkkkkk!  Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter! You guys make me laugh and keep me entertained.  I loved hearing where everyone is from! It's so crazy!!  I'm back from the beach, and the bad news is I didn't get much writing done (family can be so distracting!!), but I did write a bit! Woo!  I need to catch up now, and hopefully respond to all your comments tonight.  Hope you enjoy this next chapter. 

I'm also working on a Michael Fassbender one shot (let's be honest, it's pure smut).  I'm not a huge Fassy fan, but it's for a friend *AHEMbluebell84AHEM* ;) I've only written Tom fics up until this point, so I felt I needed to get a little variety. So look out for that, if it's what you're into ;)

Thanks guys! You da best!

The high school is crawling with people.  The festival doesn’t technically start until 6, but the parking lot is already nearly full.  I pull up in the bus loop, so we can unload all the pastries.  Tom jumps right out and starts unloading. 

I sit in the car for a half a minute, trying to calm myself down.  I’m still buzzing from whatever happened back at the bakery.  I feel like I need to go stand on a mountain top and scream, or take a very, very, very cold shower.  One complete with polar bears and penguins and little floating icebergs.  Call me the Titanic, I’m sunk.

“Charlotte! These look amazing.  You’re going to be a huge hit.” I hear Mrs. Jacob’s voice screech through the air, and I am jolted from my lust filled reverie.  I jump out of the car, slinging my bag across my chest.

“Hi, Mrs. Jacobs.” I smile and she gives me a quick little hug.  That was new.  I see Mrs. Fitzgerald come out of the building, pushing a large cart.  She looks hurried and like she’s on a very important mission.  Both women are wearing capri pants and sweater sets, even though it’s hot out and the humidity must be at 100%.

“We have you set up in the cafeteria with the rest of the food.  We’ve got Bay Café—they’re doing mostly beverages like smoothies and cold drinks.  And Chase’s Chesapeake is supplying all the dinner food.” She pats me on the arm, and I falter at the mention of Chase’s Chesapeake Inn.  Of course he’s catering. Of course. 

“Tom, honey, stack all that here.” Mrs. Fitzgerald stands back and watches as Tom hefts the containers of pastries onto the cart.  He’s smiling and being charming with her, and I can barely focus on Mrs. Jacob’s chattering away in my ear.  She’s talking about different venues, and the bagpipers and something about a bagpipers union, but all I can do is smile blankly and nod and sort of stare at Tom as he moves quickly around the car.  He looks at me, just as Mrs. Jacobs is mentioning something about high cholesterol amongst bagpipers (what?!) and he gives me this big salacious grin.  It makes the dimple on the side of his cheek show up and I just blink dumbly at him, and feel a flush across my chest and up my neck.

Gods of grape jelly, I kissed that man.  I kissed him…a lot.

Mrs. Fitzgerald and Mrs. Jacobs usher us into the school, and Tom says he’ll move my car over to the parking lot.  I nod, and follow the clucking women into the busy school.  There are people decorating, and setting up craft and vendor tables in the hallways.  They take me into the cafeteria, where they have some huge table set up. 

“You don’t have to stay the whole time, Charlotte.  We have volunteers who will watch your booth.  You’re already being a sweetheart and donating your lovely pastries.” Mrs. Jacobs grins and pats me again on the arm. 

“We’ll stay for a bit. I think Tom’s hungry.” I say, though I’d sort of rather spoon feed him dirt than something from Chase’s.  Mrs. Jacobs and Mrs. Fitzgerald stick around for a few minutes to make sure I’m settled in, and then they go on their way, making sure everyone else has what they need.  I start putting up my Tiny Baker sign, and arranging the pastries and cookie bars.  Tom comes back from parking the car a few minutes later and then we have just enough time to finish setting up the tables before streams of people start coming in.