Lessons With the Professor (A Tom Hiddleston Fanfic)

Chapter 1

I am awakened with a jolt by a soft nudge at my shoulder, my head lolling against the cool glass of the reverberating window. Stifling a massive yawn with the back of my hand, I rub my eyes like a child and stretch in what little space I have, popping all my joints. 

"That's a good feeling, isn't it?" my companion smiles, taking a sip of her coffee. 

"Mmhm. Didn't you get any rest?" 

"Moving objects are a pain to fall asleep in. I can never do it." 

I sigh. "That means you can't sleep on the bus, either, can you?"

"Nope."

I slide my lukewarm cup of tea towards her. "Better drink that, then. You need all the caffeine you can get." She downs it, and puts the cup down on the tray, focusing her attention back on the movie playing on the tiny screen in front of her. I lean over.

"Beauty and the Beast. Again?" I mock.

"Oh shut up."

"How can you even hear anything with all this noise? The headphones are definitely not top-notch quality. Oh, that's right. You've got every word and action memorized."

"Reyna! Stop." She frowns.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. I was just teasing. Don't get all worked up. We haven't even gotten there."  I put my forehead back on the window, wrapping my blanket tighter around me and grumbling about how I'd need to dump it in boiling hot water the minute I find a laundromat. There was no way i'd be getting sick. A tap pokes my cheek from outside, followed by lots more, pelting the side of the plane like hailstones. I press my nose harder to the glass, hungrily watching the fat drops of rain shower upon us and slide off into the world below. The pitter-patter turns into a steady drumming, and I can barely make out the lights on the wing through the enormous grey clouds. But through the raucous noise of the storm, I make out a soft whimpering, closer by. Turning myself around, I find my best friend with tears rolling down her cheeks and soaking the front of her hoodie.

"Jeez, Camryn! It's not even gotten to the sad part yet!" She makes no movement to indicate that she's heard me. I whisper loudly to her.

"Your makeup's going to run."

"No, it's not." she says forcefully. "I wore waterproof for a reason."  The corner of my smirk catches her eye, and she shoves me. "Oooh, I hate you so much sometimes."

"Love ya too."

Just then, the intercom crackles, a woman's voice greeting us gently. 

"We will be arriving at Heathrow Airport in about 15 minutes. Once we descend to 3000 miles above ground, please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices. You will be able to turn them back on once we arrive at the terminal. The weather is 15°C, with rain showers expected through the night. Once again, we thank you for flying with us, and proudly welcome you to London and the rest of the United Kingdom."

I squeal. "We made it!"

"Don't get too excited. We still probably need an hour and a half to gather our luggage and get necessities and such before getting on the bus."

I raise my eyebrows. "And I thought you were the one that got all excited about traveling." Camryn breaks into a grin at that, and hugs me tightly. 

"We made it, we made it! We're in London!"

"That we are dear friend. That we are." I chuckle. "Welcome home."

~*~

After quickly changing into drier clothing, I stand in front of the large mirrors in the airport bathroom. Combing the snarls out of my wavy hair, I find that the dampness in the air has made it look even fluffier than normal. I groan.

"And this is why I hate humidity." I mumble, sweeping my midnight tresses into a messy ponytail. Putting on my jacket, I wait outside for Camryn, who's still changing. A few minutes later, she walks out, carry-on in tow. 

"Dammit Ryn, why've you got to look so pretty all the time?" I whine. We're wearing the same thing, matching white Union Jack tees we purchased specially for the occasion, but that's where the resemblance stops. I've let my shirt hang out over a pair of simple black leggings and have my leather jacket slung over my shoulders, rain boots shuffling quietly. She's decided to tuck her top into a pleated skirt and has her hair in a bun with a small crown clip, and her British-themed nails peek out from under her cardigan. The ebony riding boots pulled over sheer black tights tap a soft rhythm. "You look like you just came from the runaway. I look like I came straight from bed."

"Hush it, you." She bats at me with her free hand. 

"Make me." I reply in a matched tone. Pulling out my cell phone, I check the time. "We better get going, before we miss the bus. There is no way I am spending the night here."

"Agreed." 

"Oh, and remember to change the time on your phone. We're not in New York anymore, Toto." I remind.

"Says the girl who's put their phone on military time ever since she's gotten it." Camryn mutters, but does it anyways.

"Well excuse me. Besides, military time is used by people in medicine, so I thought it'd be easier to adjust starting early." 

"Ugh stop it, Miss I-have-a-full-ride-to-university-because-I'm-so-smart." 

"Ryn!" I hiss. "Shut up. You're the one that got called in personally by the director of the Royal Ballet on top of that full scholarship."

"What's this I hear about ballerinas and university?" a voice says, making us jump. "Oh, sorry," the young man apologizes profusely, while stooping to pick up our bags. "How awfully rude of me. I didn't mean to muddle in your conversation, or scare you. Please accept my sincerest apologies." We look at each other with raised eyebrows, suppressing giggles. So it was true, that the British were as nice as people said. 

Regaining my composure, I say with a smile, "It's no worries at all, please. Thank you for putting our bags away, we appreciate it very much." The worry from the man's eyes vanishes, and he returns back to his old self.

"Oh, thank goodness! Well girls, my name is Harry, and I'll be your bus driver for the evening. Now, where is it that you'll be off to?"

Ryn checks her planner. "Um, Cambridgeshire." 

"Such a lovely place. Lovely, lovely." Harry chirps. "Please, come in before you catch a cold." he says, beckoning to the double-decker red bus towering over us. We enter, and find it filled with identical rows of loveseats instead of the hard chairs we were expecting.

"This'll be more comfortable than I thought." Camryn relaxes noticeably. 

"If you girls would like to get the best view, please feel free to go upstairs. There is no extra charge, and since it is a one-and-a-half hour trip, I suggest getting a good glimpse of the view." I nudge Ryn.

"Hey, there's something you can do to pass the time," I say, climbing the small staircase and dropping my bag on a seat near the middle of the bus. "Thank you, Harry."

 "Anytime." he says, heading back to the driver's seat. We make ourselves comfortable, and glance around.

"Thank goodness there's no one up here," I mutter. "I can sleep without anyone judging me."

 Ryn turns to look at me. "You're not seriously thinking of sleeping now, are you?"

"Why not? Moving modes of transportation make me drowsy. I might as well be well rested for tomorrow." I say, fluffing my pillow and proceeding to lay it against the arm of the chair. "Plus, I'm sure we'll have much free time later on to enjoy the sights and sounds of the country. We do live here now, after all."

"Well, I'm going to enjoy my first few hours of England with eyes wide open."

"Suit yourself. But don't forget to wake me up."

"Trust me, I don't hate you enough to leave you on a bus in a whole new place all by yourself in the middle of the night, alright?" she says, grinning.

But I am already asleep.