The first few hours of the flight actually ended up being pretty enjoyable. Reese and Tom chatted civilly, taking turns talking about where they lived, where they were headed, jobs, home life, and everything in between. She learned that he had two sisters, and was in fact born in London. How he liked to run every morning and absolutely loved to dance. In return, she told him she only had one brother, who was getting married the following weekend, and was born and raised in Portland Oregon. She moved to LA when she was eighteen, to pursue a career in screenwriting, which had been put on hold because of money issues, and was currently gathering dust while she worked in a rundown bar in the center of the city. Also that she was passionate about distance running and enjoyed jogging in the evenings, rather than early in the day.

     The whole time she spoke, Tom watched her with a sort of curious intensity, like he was actually genuinely interested in what she was saying.

     "Screenwriting?" he'd asked, "very noble profession," (she'd laughed a little at this) "have you done any movies?"

     Reese shrugged halfheartedly. The truth was, she had one or two finished scripts in forgotten files on her computer, but she hadn't gone to any great lengths to get them out into the world.

     "Not really," she told him truthfully, crossing her legs and shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I-I've finished a few outlines, but I haven't got any takers yet. It's hard because you can't make a living on something that's just sitting on your computer, gathering dust."

     Tom chuckled, a low raspy drawl in the back of his throat. "I'm sure you're a suburb writer, Reese. You should just keep trying -- the answer will always be no if you never ask."

     Reese laughed again and shook her head. "Well, isn't that inspirational?"

     Tom shrugged and chuckled, bowing his head in mock gratitude. She liked his laugh, it was cute. Of course, she reasoned, maybe she wouldn't be having the same thoughts if she didn't find him so attractive -- after all, she hardly knew the guy, he was merely a nice stranger she met on a plane.

     After about half an hour longer, the conversation lagged, and Tom excused himself to do a bit of work on his laptop. Reese nodded (No, of course, Tom, you shouldn't even have to ask) and pulled out a book you had brought. She got bored of it pretty quickly, though, but still refused to open the little window to the right of her seat, terrified of seeing nothing but sky -- or the earth plummeting closer to her. Either way, she resorted to forcing her eyes shut and leaning back in her chair, faintly hoping she might get a little nap in before she landed. After all, LA was three hours ahead of Hawaii, so Reese had a long rest of the day ahead her.

     Sleep came more easily than she'd expected, blanketing her in darkness, drowning out all surrounding sounds of quiet chatter and clacking of keyboards. She felt warmer, and as she nodded off, Reese felt her hand slip off the armrest, then knew no more.

***

     Reese awoke to a gentle shaking, someone grasping her shoulder lightly. Her head bobbed and fell, knocking her back into consciousness. Plane sounds came flooding back. The baby behind her had resumed screaming its head off, and if felt as if they were spiraling down. Way worse than taking off.

     "Reese? Hey, wake up. We're landing now, the pilot says buckle your seatbelts."

     Reese broke away from her drowsiness with a start at the word landing. She could feel the gravity shift as the nose of the plane tilted forward. Her arms felt like lead, and her legs went rigid. Her neck was slick with nervous sweat and she reached up with shaking hands to wipe it off.

     "R-right," she managed, scrambling with her seatbelt and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Had she really slept for three hours?

     "Hey," Tom said, more softly. His hand still rested on her shoulder, warm and more comforting that she would've cared to admit. He was looking at her, a reassuring smile plastered onto his tired face. "There's no need to be scared. We're almost down now, and it's smooth sailing from there."

     Reese flashed him a grateful smile and resumed her death-grip on the armrests.

     She jumped a little the moment the plane touched down, but she got ahold of herself pretty quickly after that. Reese and Tom pretty much sat in silence as they waited for the announcement saying they could leave. When finally he gave them the all-clear, she fumbled to grab her backpack, then her suitcase, stored in the compartments above them.

     As Tom was still in front of her, he'd already gotten his suitcase down and was watching as she ducked around in front of him to try and reach hers.

     "Here," he said from behind her, "let me."

     Reese was about to object, but he reached up with ease and grabbed the handle of her small black case. "This it?" he asked, and after she nodded, he slid it out and plopped it down in front of her as if he hardly even had to think about it.

     Now that they were both standing, Reese realized just how tall Tom was, drawn up to his full height. He had to be at least six foot, she reasoned, and compared to her five-foot-four frame, he practically towered above her.

     "Er, thanks, Tom."

     Now the line was moving forward, and Reese stepped behind him, following the flight attendant's directions. A few seconds later, she was off the plane and finally able to breathe normally again.

     To her surprise, Tom had stopped for her and was standing with his hand out. "It was an absolute pleasure talking to you, Reese. Maybe we'll see each other in Hawaii?"

     Reese smiled and accepted the handshake, slipping her small, sweaty palm into his.

     "And thank you, Tom. You actually made the flight not quite as terrifying as it could have been."

     The shake was curt, and once he let go, she pulled her hand quickly to her side to grasp her suitcase.

     "Maybe we'll see each other around?" he asked, stepping back slowly, dragging his bag behind him. "It's not impossible."

     Reese nodded and chuckled lightly. "You're right, it's not impossible."

     With one last wave, Tom was off, walking briskly through the growing throng of people. She watched him until he disappeared from view, then turned on her heel, and headed to the elevator.

     Her brother probably hadn't even come down to pick her up, she thought bitterly as she went, I'd be better off getting a cab.

***

     Indeed, Reese's brother had not sent anyone to get her, let alone come himself, so she had to resort to trying to snag one of the taxis outside the airport. It was chaotic, to say the least, and it took her at least twenty minutes to get to a cab before some other desperate traveler, dragging three suitcases along could steal it.

     Reese let the man take her suitcase and slipped into the back seat. The car's engine sputtered to life, and they were off, albeit a little shakily, towards the hotel her brother had booked the guests.

     She grabbed one of the celebrity magazines strewn across the seat opposite her, and flipped lazily through it, understanding very little, but figuring it was entertainment all the same.

     Reese froze, however, mid-page turn, as one large image caught her attention.

     It was Tom.

     He was smiling out from his page, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised suggestively. The title read: Hiddlestoned, Hotting Up With Hiddleston, New Avengers Fashion.

     Not only was Tom an actor, he was a celebrity -- and a very well-known one at that.