A/N: It took forever to get this out. Sorry. But then suddenly I was on a roll, and here you have it.
---

The entire weekend was a disaster and when Beth comes back to work on Monday, she’s as ready as she’s ever been for that divorce.

True, she doesn’t want Tom to win – Sophie and Liesa laughed at her for that when they went out for dinner yesterday evening.

„Beth,“ Liesa had said, fork and spoon working through her pasta dish, „by now I’m ready for a divorce from Tom if that means he and his crazy fiancée will leave town.“

She really has been crazy. The paps in town seemed to have multiplied by a thousand and by now Beth feels like she’s slowly gone insane.

Being photographed whenever you leave your flat doesn’t help the situation at all. They haven’t even stopped shouting her name. It’s just not constantly asking for a comment anymore.

She's never been so glad to not have followed Tom to Los Angeles all those years ago. How is anyone able to handle that?

This morning they followed her to work. Again. But she refused to stay at home any longer. People are relying on her, babies don’t wait for their midwife to stop being haunted by paparazzi when they want to come out.

And her colleagues will get used to it. Eventually. Plus, there’ll be less photographers when Tom and Julia finally make their way to London. Surely.

“Oi,” Vanessa, the youngest doctor in the team and a friend, greets her as Beth prepares for the day in the little room for the team. Beth looks up at her from where she’s sitting at the small table. “You’ve brought your friends again today.”

She grimaces. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay holed up at home, and I hoped they’d be gone by now. If they bother you too much, I could call the police I guess? Or make them leave somehow.” The only way she can think of is calling Tom, though. And she won’t do that. She's seen way too much of him over the weekend, walking through town, in another cafe, which was again Julia's great idea, and of course in the papers as she went out for groceries.

“As long as they leave the patients alone I think we’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

Vanessa is quiet for a moment as Beth continues to get ready, eating a banana and reading the morning paper. She can feel eyes on her and hears the shuffling of clothes as if the other woman in the room is having a hard time standing still. Beth looks up again, and indeed, the doctor is eying her, blushing a bit as she’s caught doing it.

“What?”

“Tom Hiddleston, huh?”

“Eh, yes. A while ago, actually.”

“Why haven’t you ever said anything?”

Beth frowns. Vanessa didn’t grow up here just like some of her patients. It’s never really been a secret for all the others living here.

“Because I don’t go around talking about my former love life or about my famous ex-husband.”

“Husband.” Beth just raises a brow, making Vanessa blush a bit more. “He’s still your husband if I got that right?”

“Only on the paper. Believe me.”

“But why?”

By now, Beth has stopped eating. She stares at the banana, her stomach churning. Well, she’ll eat a bit more at lunch then. She stands up, throws the rest of her banana in the bin and shoots Vanessa a look.

“I’m not really discussing the reasons for a separation with anyone. Fact is, we haven’t been together for a long time.”

“No,” the doctor shakes her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, why aren’t you divorced? He’s going to get married again, you haven’t seen each other in years, if we believe what the town has to say about this, and you could move on too.”

Beth gasps. “I...” Okay. How dare she? “What do you mean, moving on? I have. Haven’t been thinking about him in forever. And I’m happy for him. He could have done this years ago.”

“You could have too, you know?”

“What?”

“Filing for divorce. It’s not like he has to. You can do it too. You knew where he was.” At Beth’s raised brow, she continues, “it’s just... you could have avoided quite a bit of unnecessary pain. But it’s good that you’re doing it now.”

“Uh-huh.”

She thinks of the thick envelope lying on her living-room table. She’s read through it, not that she really cares as long as this finally comes to an end. All that it needs will be a tiny signature – well, three actually – and she’ll never have to see Tom again.

Vanessa's voice pulls Beth back. “Except if you still want to be married to him. Who wouldn't, right? But that’s probably a little too ‘Hollywood love story’ and not enough ‘but he snores and his also engaged to another woman’ in our case.”

Beth shakes her head once. “Let's focus on the work first, yes?”
---

Tom's breathing heavily, Julia next to him, both sweaty, naked, and very much still in bed at – Tom checks the clock – 12.12 p.m. on a Monday.

He just hopes his dad really is out visiting a friend from today to tomorrow like he’s said.

“Wow,” Julia whispers, and as Tom turns his head he can see her grin. She looks at him. “That was great.”

“Yeah.”

They shuffle a little closer towards each other, both drawing patterns on the other's body, trying to – though not really willing to – come down from the high.

“Is it because it’s your childhood room and it needs to see a bit of action?” she giggles. It turns to laughing and a bit of screaming when Tom’s fingers cease the soft touches and start the tickles instead.

“Take it back,” he laughs above her, but his fiancée just shakes her head, squeaking now.

“Never!”

She’s a bit more playful now, possibly because the public meetings have been well received by the media, and their publicists of course. Maybe it’s also because now that she knows Libby, or Elizabeth as she calls her, Julia doesn’t feel so threatened anymore.

The tickling turns to kissing, biting, moaning, and almost a second round of love-making when Tom's phone rings.

His moan isn’t one of arousal this time.

“Don't answer,” Julia whispers, but it’s too late, because he’s already checked the caller ID.

He frowns as he answers, still playfully swatting Julia’s hands away. “Libby?” Why is she calling him when she normally has to be at work? “Are they bothering you again?”

While the pictures are great for him and Julia, Tom can’t help but feel guilty every time he sees Libby's face in some paper. This is all she claims she never wanted and he basically threw her into a tank full of sharks.

“I’m at the back door,” she whispers back. “Can you open up? I’m on my lunch break and have something for you.”

“What do you have for me?”

It makes Julia stop trying to seduce him, instead she’s perking up at the mention of Libby possibly delivering something. “Maybe it’s the papers,” she whispers.

“Tom,” comes an almost frustrated groan from the other end of the line, “I’m trying to not be seen by anyone. Could you please let me in?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’m... give me a minute, please.”

As he hangs up, Tom is already out of the bed looking for the old jogging bottoms and a t-shirt he just dropped somewhere last night. Julia is getting dressed as well, causing Tom to throw her a questioning glance.

“Why are you getting up?”

“Because she’s clearly here to deliver the papers. And I want to thank her for that.”

Tom's heart gives a mighty thud at that possibility. That’d be exciting. They could finally go to London and then go back to the US, plan a wedding and get on with their busy lives. He’s starting to miss the busy life and not being overly cautious, trying to hide from the press. Really. He is.

“Now, come on, we don’t have all day.”

Tom shakes his head to clear it. Yeah. Get on with the day. Probably it isn’t even Libby delivering the papers. He knows her. She’s much too stubborn for that.

They make their way downstairs and to the back door. Just before Tom opens it with is right hand Julia takes his left one in hers.

And he fights the urge to pull away. Libby’s had a few rough days. They shouldn’t hit her in the face with their happiness. Right.

But Tom doesn’t pull away, because he also couldn’t deal with the hurt look on Julia’s face.

The first thing Tom registers is how utterly tired Libby’s looking. Guilt hits him. Is this his fault? Before he can think it through more thoroughly, he also spots the big envelope in Libby's hand.

Tom's stomach drops, making his knees go weak. She wouldn’t toy with him like this, would she? No. This must be the real deal.

Huh. Who would have thought?

The way Julia squeezes his hand tells him she knows as well.

“Come on in, Elizabeth, come on in,” Julia rushes, and Tom must school his features and stop the beginning frown. This isn’t her house and definitely not her right to invite people in.

To be fair, it’s also not Tom’s house. Libby’s probably even spent more time in here than he did. Still, he works on that smile on his face, ignoring his rapidly beating heart and clammy palms.

“Yes. Come in. What is it?”

She steps inside, looking around a bit like she’s never seen this place before. Tom’s sole focus is on that envelope, now in her two hands. She’s shaking a bit, he realises with a start. That’s good somehow. She’s not immune to the tension then.

“I,” Libby begins, but she stops herself and looks between Julia and Tom. Her eyes first meet his, then she drops her gaze to the couple’s joint hands. “Actually, could we have a few moments alone?” she asks as she looks up and directly at Julia. “It's kind of private.”

His fiancée’s grip doesn’t loosen as a defiant look settles on her face. “I think this also has a lot to do with my future. I’d like to stay.”

Tom’s desperation for only one fucking conversation in this town happening without an epic confrontation between them – him and Libby that is – must be showing on his face, because except for a raised eyebrow and a slight pause before she talks on, it doesn’t seem like Libby is bothered at all.

She sighs, then takes a deep breath. “Fine,” she whispers and then looks at Tom, holding out the envelope. “The papers are signed. I should’ve done this years ago. I’m sorry I just waited around when I could’ve made it so much easier for you.”

He stares at her. Stares and doesn’t register anything else than her brown eyes glistening and his own heart missing between two and fifty beats. Tom doesn’t know how much time passes before Julia bumps his shoulder with hers and Libby frowns at him. His eyes zoom in on the slightly shaking envelope between them.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, not even sure if he’s answering some question and if so what he’s been asked. Tom just knows that he suddenly has that huge yellow envelope in his hand, and that it’s shaking even harder now. “Okay,” he breathes out.

“Good.”

“Well, look at you,” Julia then says. “All mature and finally putting the past behind you. Thank you, Elizabeth.”

But Tom only looks at Libby and the way she’s now swallowing heavily, looking like she’s on the verge of crying. And suddenly his own throat feels dry, and his eyes sting, and he knows he should say something. He just doesn’t know what.

What is appropriate in this situation? He’s certainly experienced break-ups – obviously – but this somehow feels heavier despite them not having seen each other for so long before this.

Should he hug her? Or offer her a muffin? He knows it sounds ridiculous, but Libby always needs something sweet after she’s been stressed out. Well, at least she always needed it after her exams all those years ago. He always had some sort of cake ready for her when she got home in the evenings. But before Tom can move or do something, anything, Libby makes the decision for him.

“I’m glad it’s all settled then. Have fun in London or... wherever I guess. I’m sure Diana and James will tell me all about it.”

And then she's gone without so much as a handshake. The door closes behind her, and Libby is no more. Well, for him at least. But he’s got Julia, so everything's going to be alright.

At the moment though, Tom's too numb to even smile at Julia’s enthusiastic chanting of “We've made it!”.
---

Beth hates those times when something goes wrong during a birth and she can’t do anything more than letting the doctors and nurses do their job, and stay to make sure the expecting couple still has a professional there who knows them and their original plan.

She’s exhausted when she makes it to the cafeteria at 10 o'clock at night, both the mother and the baby fine after all, but not without going through complications first.

Now, she just wants a bit to eat, before doing the paperwork and then go home and sleep all through next week. Or well, maybe go to work tomorrow again. Many more mothers will be waiting for her.

And that’s good like that. She loves her job, though Beth sometimes has to convince herself.

“Lucas?” someone calls from behind her just as Beth has taken a small plate with a deliciously looking cheesecake. She needs something sweet after a day like this, she doesn’t know why, but it’s always been like this even when she was studying for her degree.

When she turns, Beth stares at a solid chest dressed in the hospital's blue scrubs at first. When she lifts her head though, brown eyes smile down at her. It’s Doctor Paulson, the one that worked on ‘her’ mother-to-be today. She's been working with him for a while now. And he still looks as good as ever. Not that she noticed.

“Oh, hi.” Her voice sounds a bit squeaky, but after clearing her throat, she manages another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He has dimples when he smiles. Actually, he’s got a lot going for him when he smiles. And honestly also when he doesn’t.

“Hi.” Shit. She’s said that.

“Miss Lucas, I just wanted to say that it was a pleasure to work with you these past few hours. And before that as well. I know it’s never easy for you when the lives of your patients are at risk, but you’ve done a great job calming them down.”

“Oh, thank you. You too.” She should say something more, maybe like ‘thanks for not letting them die’, or ‘it’s always a pleasure to meet you’. But then Doctor Paulson smiles again, and there are his dimples. Again.

“Can I join you and your cake?”

“Sure. Sure. Yeah.”

“I’ll pay.”

And then he’s suddenly rounded her, going straight to the lady at the counter, pointing at Beth's plate and letting that little machine scan his hospital badge.

Beth hurries after him, her plate firmly in her hand, when he points at a table in the back. What the heck?

“You don't have to pay for me, I’ll pay you back, just let me...” she rambles when she finally sits opposite him at the table.

“No, you won’t. Enjoy the food, Lucas. And maybe see this as a test date? Before I invite you to some real restaurant, maybe on a Saturday night?”

“Ah.”

She wants to say no. She really does. Because except for some run-ins during work she doesn’t really know him. She’s not even sure what his first name is, because all his badge says is M. Paulson.

And then she thinks about what all her friends said about moving on, and that she really did sign her divorce papers today. And if that isn't reason enough to actually risk something, she doesn’t know what is.

“My name’s Martin, by the way,” the man in front of her smirks.

She laughs. Okay then. “Beth,” she smiles. “And you’ve got yourself a deal.”